WHERE IS THE SUN

  grcntwcrdisms  during any...

Imagine her getting cravings and crying at the stupidest things

  during any pregnancy,  jemma’s stress levels are...

FUCK ME THAT WOULD BE GOOD

during any pregnancy,  jemma’s stress levels are through the roof.  not in the cliché yelling and  snapping  at everyone but instead a painful opposite: growing far quieter and shoulders seeming heavier.  every waking moment fully  ( overly )  aware of every little thing that could go wrong at every point of the pregnancy; medical terms torturing her in the back of her mind every time she tries to so much as rest. 

any normal woman has a mountain of risks and genetically  ensured  twists to expect.  most women haven’t been through all that she has - her classified file full of descriptions of the traumas her body has face time and time again.

an alien virus. scar tissue buried inside her by the blunt trauma to her abdomen from both missions and from the pod.  six months stranded on an alien planet.  being tortured.  injuries sustained in the framework...

a novel of reminders that maybe her own body would be her enemy against her getting the normality she’s so desperately craved for so long.  every little kick from the baby she  already  loves so dearly causing her heart to stop with the momentary panic that maybe she’s not strong enough to cope with losing yet another thing she already loves so dearly. 

it hurts.   the thought of losing any of their team in this hell          the thought of having to unplug their body and know she’d let them down          it hurts.   they’re all a team, the words dancing in her mouth regardless of how her lips still don’t part,   some part of her tempted to voice the tired thoughts.   they’re a team,   and he’s part of that team.

but this version of him wouldn’t understand the weight of the words.   he wouldn’t know the sentiment behind them because at least here he’s the hero he’s always wanted to be in body as well as mind:   a desire she can relate to.   perhaps,   if AIDA had been a touch more human,   she would have seen the desire written so deeply into jemma’s own DNA.   she’d give everything         her humanity, her life         for the people she loves.    she and the ‘patriot’ are the same because for them death is always an option because their lives will never make the list.

‘ I’d be a liar if I said I didn’t understand. ’   that much is true regardless of if the stars decorating the sky are truly there or fragments of demented coding.   ‘ we’re alike, you know.   it’s easy to forget that we’re worth saving too. ’   and maybe they’ll end up the same,   futures likely already written somewhere  //  somehow.

Even though he’s probably picked his daughter up from school enough times that he can count them on a single hand, he doesn’t really feel like he’s been missing much of anything. Usually it was one, if not both, of her grandparents that pitched in and picked her up for him. Hope was very detail oriented, always loved telling him stories about her day at school. And it seemed, as though she had a particular obsession fascination, for her teacher, Ms. Simmons.

Being a single Dad was hard, and although his parents helped him out when they could. He couldn’t really ask them to go to the Parent-Teacher Night in his stead, there’s a reason it was called Parent-Teacher night, for a reason. As he sat before her, Mack smiled when she mentioned how well she was doing. ❝ That’s lovely to hear, ❞ came his response, with a genuine smile.

❝ My parents do a good job making sure she does her homework by the time I get home. She’s pretty good at picking up things easily. ❞ Laughing lightly when the teacher explained what his daughter wrote, Mack could shake his head fondly. ❝ Yeah, that’d probably be my fault, ❞ he replied while accepting the paper. ❝ I work as a mechanic, and she’s usually propped up on my tool box watching me work in the garage. Like I said, she picks up on things quickly. ❞

Reading over the document some more, his smile only grew wider. ❝ How’s she doing with everything else? Like with her history and science studies? ❞ Math and reading he had no problem helping her with, but history? Well… It’s never been his strong suit.

❝ Well, Hope is good friends with Olivia - my little girl. So I’m allowed some bias if I ever want Olive talking to me again. ❞ Her smile was a genuine thing, regardless of playful tone. Most people tended to not realise they were the same Simmons family, Jemma’s own little girl the one exception that came with trying to judge the children simply by their talents. Not that it changed her approach to any of them... it was just curious.

Gently tapping on the desk she nodded at his question, turning to gently flick through the file on the desk again. Fingers light on the papers as again finding where the answer would be written in black and white as she lightly hums under her breathing - some parents always ready to put up an argument if they didn’t like the reply she gave. Taking criticism as personal attacks, claiming somehow she was out to get at their innocent babies instead of the chance for positive feedback.

‘ absence makes the heart grow fonder. ’   her tongue has always been sharp, hints of her father to be found in the way her shoulders tense and her own value is easily lessened.   nails scraping on her tender palms as if hoping that the stinging of her flesh will remind her how to think properly.

she’s a mess.   she’s been a mess for so long now it’s hard to remember the girl she was before – brown eyes still as bright as the stars yet so much duller than they’d once been.   pink lips pressing together for a few moments  (  almost  )  tight enough to completely drain them of colour.

still though.   there’s an elegance in how her head tilts back and her eyebrows rise,   ‘ or whatever the saying claims. ’

Daisy: You know, I’m not really a jewelry person.

Simmons: You don’t have to wear it.

“you know,  your taste in women is pretty awful.”  she has to admit, she knows how many people would die of shock if they were ever to witness this. brown gaze on fitz and only him as her teasing tone lingers on  pink  lips  - with one order, he could have her killed (or worse) like has with plenty others. just because they’ve been sleeping together a fair while doesn’t mean she won’t end up on the wrong side of him playing doctor. 

still, she takes a  moment  to let her shoulder nudge his, following his gaze to the blonde. hydra agents all too busy with the annual celebration to admit every last one of them is paying attention to their leader’s son and what he’s doing.  “surely carly is too  grr  even for your tastes?”