#post 5x14

“Do you trust me?” Fitz asked her point blank after another disastrous mission between them. His handsome face twisted in suppressed fury, his tone grim and unforgiving. Wringing his hands together in worry…digging at the dried blood embedded in the creases of his palms. She had been wounded again…and it could have been avoided if she’d just let him help her.

“Wh-What happened to us, Daisy?” He implored. His beautiful blue eyes searching…searing…straight into her very soul for answers to the invisible wedge that had been forced between them since they last spoke eons ago.

Daisy closed her eyes at his words, hoping it would hold back her tears. She’d been dreading this conversation. Been preparing for it the moment Jemma had softly taken her hand and led her across time and space looking for—“Ours, Daisy…he’s just as much yours as he is mine.”—future husband.

She’d know he’d figure it out eventually when they came face to face again…and the blazing hot electricity been them had died down and old resentments replaced its intensity. Fitz had always been dangerously perceptive when it came to her and Daisy had never been good at letting bygones stay buried. So it had been a long time coming really…but she still wasn’t ready for it. For her to choose. She’d either finally have to forgive him…or lose him forever.

Both options stung.

She opened her eyes, forcing herself finally face this. To hold onto that tiny sliver of bravery that she had when it came to him. He deserved that much from her. “I don’t know...” She answered honestly…but there was a tried smile on her lips as she gently took his bloody hand. “But I’ll get there…for you, Leopold Fitz, I’ll try…”

He just gripped her hand tighter and grinned back.

Tipping her head back and blinking to hastily dispel thetears already gathering in her eyes, Jemma cleared her throat lightly andforced a casual, pleasant tone as she replied, “Just as soon as we know that therewere no after-effects, I promise.”

Even though Daisy’s only reply was a short scoff, Jemmacould tell what she had to be thinking as clearly as if she’d spoken the wordsaloud: if it wasn’t for her husband,she wouldn’t even be there in the first place, she wouldn’t have to worry about after-effects.

Taking a shaky breath, Jemma allowed herself another briefmoment to resettle her tumultuous emotions before crossing the room and aroundthe end of the bed to check the monitors that Daisy was hooked up to. It tookher far longer to read the numbers displayed on the screen than it normallywould have, her eyesight blurred slightly by the tears that refused to be heldback.

Sniffling what she hoped was at least somewhat discreetly,Jemma quickly jotted the numbers down on her tablet, then finally turned toface Daisy herself. Her gaze was directed straight ahead, at the blank wallacross from her, but faraway, as though she was anywhere else but there. Therewere dark smudges of makeup here and there on her cheeks and chin, left thereby tracks of tears, and Jemma almost made a teasing remark about how shethought Daisy always wore waterproofmakeup –

“That way, even if youstart crying – you know, if you see a sick puppy or you’re on your period orsomething – you’ll still look totally amazing,” she’d said once to Jemma,back in the early days on the Bus, when Daisy had been Skye and the only reasonshe could have imagined that they would be crying was because of an injuredanimal or an overflow of hormones.

However, she bit her tongue at the last moment, as makingsuch a comment now would be in rather poor taste. And, somehow, she only feltworse as she brushed the fond memory aside – though, she hadn’t thought such athing possible.

Pressing her lips tightly together, Jemma quickly raised hergaze away from the broken expression of her friend, instead focusing on thebandage on her neck. She set aside her tablet, tugging on a pair of sterilegloves and lifting a hand to check on Daisy’s wound.

“Your hand’s shaking.”

Nearly jumping out of her skin at the sudden break in theheavy silence of the room, Jemma automatically dropped her gaze and was startledto find Daisy now looking back up at her. For a long moment, she simply stareddown at her in something no doubt comparable to a deer in the headlights.

After a tense moment, though, she broke their gaze to glanceat her hand. It was, in fact, trembling quite terribly where it was hoveringabove Daisy’s neck.

Sucking in a breath and drawing her hand back to clasp them bothtogether, in hopes of calming herself down, she murmured, “I’m sorry. I just…giveme a moment.” She took a step back, coming to rest up against the wall behindher and closing her eyes for a beat, trying her best to regain control overherself, if only for long enough to finish examining Daisy before she brokedown.

After all, Daisy had been the one to suffer the most, and shewas the one who had been harmed at the hands of a beloved friend; the very lastthing that she needed to deal with now was Jemma’s emotions about the wholething.

But, despite her best efforts, she could feel the tearsburning at the backs of her eyes, could feel a sob building in her throat, andshe pressed the back of her gloved hand to her mouth, trying to keep it all in asshe whispered another, more desperate, “I’m sorry,” before fleeing the room.

Or, well, she attemptedto.

Something was hindering her, stopping her from making herharried retreat to the nearest empty room to break down in. Glancing back, shewas surprised to find that Daisy was now half-sitting up, her fingers claspedaround Jemma’s wrist, her eyes wet with threatening tears of her own.

There was a desperate pleading in her widened eyes, arighteous anger in the tense set of her jaw, and an overwhelming horror in thetrembling of her bottom lip. And, though she didn’t speak the words aloud,Jemma knew instinctively what she needed – the one thing that she could offerher, which didn’t feel like nearly enough, but it was all she had.

So, wordlessly, she retraced her steps until she’d closedthe space between them, bending at the waist to throw her arms around Daisy,who returned the hug with a ferocity that caught Jemma momentarily off-guard.Almost immediately, she could feel the wetness of Daisy’s tears soaking theshoulder of her shirt, could feel her shaking in her embrace, and Jemmasqueezed her eyes shut, her own tears slipping past her defenses and rollingdown her cheeks once more.

She wanted to apologize to Daisy over and over again for thetrauma that she’d suffered at the hands of the man that she loved, she wantedto try and say something that mightreassure her in some small way that the horrible things she feared that shewould do wouldn’t come to pass, and above all, she wanted to promise her thatthis would be the last time that the world sought to break her and tear herapart at her seams.

But, none of the words that she could speak would changewhat had happened that day – nothing could, as difficult and heartbreaking asthat was to come to terms with, as much as it left the terrible taste of griefand guilt on her tongue. There wasn’t a way to fix this situation; there wasn’ta way to fix Daisy, to fix Fitz, to fix their shattered friendship, and thatwas perhaps the hardest part for her to truly accept.

The thought of Fitz alone, traumatised, and segregated from everyone and everything, levels beneath them, made her heart ache. She couldn’t bare the thought of him alone again. Not after everything they had been through. Not after everything he had been through. She had left him alone before, after he nearly died, and what had it done? Caused nothing but pain and heartbreak and animosity between them for ages. And his lack of human contact from his imprisonment while they were all in the future had evidently done him no favours, the demons in his mind swirling until they had surfaced in a rush of agony and terror, nearly drowning him and destroying any sense of calm that had settled around them.

And yet… she found herself focused on her own reality. One where he wasn’t the one who needed fixing, if just in that moment, because of her realisation:

She didn’t know how to sleep without him anymore.

Before she knew what she was doing, she kicked the blankets off, not bothering with her shoes as she padded through the silence of the base, heart hammering in her chest as she took the elevator down and traversed the hallway. There were so many things she wanted and needed to say to him. So many things she needed to tell him. To understand. To try and fix the rift that was growing between them so that they could have what Deke claims they do in the future. To find a way to mend the bond and the brokenness that is encompassing her husband and keeping him away from her. She didn’t have time to contemplate a single thing to fruition, however, before she found herself outside the cell, fingers typing in a pin-code, her hand wrapping around the doorknob and pushing it open. His reaction to her presence was instantaneous.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Fitz grit out, standing on reflex at the sight of her at the door. “You’re not safe here with me, Jemma. You should-”

“Shut up,” she snapped, trying to blink the tears away that were building on her lashes. She wanted to be brave. To be able to comfort him. To find a way to help him. But her exhaustion made her selfish, her body craving the relieving calm that she always found in his arms. “I… I can’t sleep without you…” she whispered a heartbeat later, feeling her breath catch in her throat. He didn’t move towards her, keeping his distance as his expression crumbled, longing and sadness etched on his tired features.

“Jemma…”

“Fitz, please,” she begged, hiccupping. The sound of her emotion broke down the last of his defences as he rushed towards her, gathering her into his arms and peppering kisses across her face, never able to deny her anything. Jemma threw her arms around his neck, holding him close as she tried to get just a little bit closer. “I need you,” she breathed. Resolve shattering, he pulled her into a heated kiss, biting at her lips as he tried to devour her.

“God, I want-” he groaned, teeth rough against her as he backed her up, pressing her back into the wall, hands roving over her body. One slid between her legs, pressing against the loose fabric of her trousers until his fingers could encounter her clit, grinding slow circles against it. Unable to stop herself, Jemma arched her back, hips pressing more tightly against his hand as she gasped.

“Yes,” she forced out, body thrumming with arousal.

She knew it was a bad idea. They both did.

They hadn’t talked through enough of what happened, both still immensely raw from the realities of his deteriorated mental health and hew own secrets; his essential betrayal of their closest friend due to his actions mere hours before. But she couldn’t stop herself if she wanted to, body and mind desperate to feel close to the man she called her husband, regardless of his sins. He bit at her neck a second later, causing her hips to buck against him as she gasped, the sound loud in the otherwise quiet room.

“Are you wet Jem?” he queried, sucking at the skin over her pulse, a leg sliding between hers as he pushed her back into the wall harder, the hand that had been between her legs moving up until he could catch both of her wrists in his hand, pinning them above her head.

“Y-yes,” she whimpered, feeling heat suffuse her body at his words. She had only intended to seek comfort by lying with him until she could fall asleep when she entered the room, but she couldn’t bare to think about pulling away. At her response, he dropped her wrists only to grab the hem of her shirt, practically tearing it off her body before hastily shoving at her trousers, the material pooling at her feet a heartbeat later. His hands quickly moved to his own clothes, frantic as he undressed until they were pressed naked against one another save for Jemma’s knickers, the cloth already soaked and clinging to her aching skin.

Without warning, Fitz looped one arm behind her back, the other going to her hips as he lifted her clean off the floor, her legs immediately wrapping around his waist as a squeak escaped her, hands scrambling at his shoulders. He started moving them towards the bed, his cock pressing hard and insistent between her legs with each step, the sodden fabric of her knickers getting shoved to the side with one particularly jarring movement until his erection was prodding at her centre, dragging through the wetness as the crown dipped into her, shaking a whine from her lungs.

“Look at me,” he begged, still a few feet away from the bed. The second she complied, he pushed into her, arms fitted around her as he tried to pull her tight to his body. Jemma cried out, head falling backwards at the sudden intrusion, her cunt pulsing around him as he pressed deeper and deeper. She found herself against another wall almost immediately, her spine against the hard concrete as his hips started to snap against hers. She came without warning, body seizing up as her orgasm rushed through her, consuming her. Chest heaving, she tried to pull him into a messy kiss before she dropped her head to his shoulder, clinging to him as he slowed his thrusts, still rigid inside her.

Before she could comprehend what was happening, she felt him moving again, her back peeled off the wall only to find the pressure of his mattress a second later, Fitz looming over her as he pulled back. He only parted from her body long enough to completely tear her knickers off, throwing them over his shoulder before he immediately sank back into her body, grunting at the sensation of her wet heat. Growling, he grabbed her hips, surging deep within her at a punishing pace, filling her over and over.

“Fitz, please, oh God,” she moaned, head thrashing against the sheets at the rough way he was fucking her. Fitz grit his teeth, cock throbbing, but he ignored his own rising pleasure, lowering his head until he could take a nipple into his mouth, sucking hard at the pebbled flesh and dragging his teeth over the tip. Jemma screamed, bucking beneath him, her hands pressing hard into his shoulders and scoring the skin there. He chuckled softly, slowing his pace to get himself back under control, feeling his cock twitch inside her as he trailed his tongue and teeth up her neck before pulling her into a messy kiss.

Arousal still thrumming through her, Jemma tried to clear her head. They shouldn’t be having sex. There was too much left unsaid. Too much hanging over their heads. Too much fallout that could result. And yet she couldn’t push him away, pliant beneath him when he pulled out, rolling her over and spreading her legs wide before shoving back into her, thrusting sharply. She tensed, body clenching around him as he bottomed out, deep, languid rolls of his hips against her ass as he humped her. She scrambled to get better purchase on the bed, hands sliding in the sheets as she arched her back, knowing that her knees would be sore later but unable to care, the position commanding and just too good.

His hands spread her thighs just a little wider before moving to her hips, fingers clinging to her as he started to push himself deeper and with a renewed purpose. Jemma moaned, burying her face in the pillow as she cried out, unbidden in the dim light of his room, feeling her arousal dripping down her thighs with each tug of his cock against her entrance. Jemma squirmed, not sure whether she wanted to be closer or further away, but he didn’t give her the choice, dragging her back harder, and harder with each buck of his hips. She felt dizzy with arousal, desperate to cum again, her clit throbbing painfully as she tried to brace herself on one arm and get her hand between her legs. She managed it after a few false starts, body rocked by the force of his movements, until she could slide two fingers against the hard bundle of nerves.

She came almost instantly, screaming into the bedding as Fitz continued to ride her, her release so powerful that she felt it splattering against him, the sounds of her body wet and lewd in the room. He released her after a moment, letting her body sag into the blanket as she twitched through the aftershocks, cunt wet and sloppy as his cock popped out for a moment before he shoved it back in, fingers rubbing along her swollen lips, feeling where her body enveloped his.

“P-please,” Jemma murmured, unsure what she was even asking for as he leaned his chest against her back, his forehead pressed to her shoulder, sweat dripping off his hair. She inhaled sharply at his next thrust, his cock filling her in a way that made her head spin, her body stretched taut around him. The energy seemed to have shifted, his movements no longer frenzied, but impossibly deep and intense. Desperate for a reprieve, she clawed at the sheets as his arm went around her hips, holding her tight to him while his other hand slid up her torso, fingers grabbing hard at her breast before moving further up, sliding around her throat. Jemma’s breathing hitched, panic sluicing through her for a split second before she realised there was no pressure in his fingers, but rather just a warm weight against her skin, his palm resting against her collarbone. It felt immeasurably possessive all of a sudden, the warm metal of his wedding ring pressing into her flesh.  

“God, I love you,” Fitz breathed, voice a pang of hot air against her shoulder as he pressed into her collarbone, pulling her back towards him as he rolled his hips. “You’re mine.” Jemma groaned, the sound strangled as she felt another jolt of arousal rush through her, pooling at her oversensitive centre. “Say it,” he demanded.

“Y-yours. I’m yours. Always. Forever,” she gasped, feeling his fingers move from her hip to her cunt, stroking over her clit in deft circles. She whined out a pitiful noise, yelping and letting her hips slam back against him when she felt him move his hand back, tucking a finger in next to his cock and pushing inside her. The sensation was too much and not enough all at once, the finger moving at a different pace than his cock as he started to thrust again, his fingerprint searing onto her fluttering walls as he pressed in, seeking out her g-spot. “P-please!”

“Tell me what you need,” he murmured, dragging his teeth along her shoulder blade, the hand on her neck and chest warm and slick with sweat against her heated skin.

“I – I, please, I need to cum,” Jemma gasped out, her body thrumming with energy and the desperate need to orgasm again. Fitz chuckled into her neck before pulling his finger out, surging into her harder than before as he tilted her hips up, pounding against her cunt. He didn’t let her find release, however, a groan erupting from his lungs before he pulled out, quickly manhandling her until she was on her back, thighs splayed open as he sheathed himself again, their eyes locking. His pace was slow again, but gritty in a way that he hadn’t been when he was behind her, his hips stuttering against hers, grinding into her clit.

Her legs wrapped around his back then, arms banding around his neck as she rocked against him, meeting each of his thrusts as best she could. He kissed her, tongue plundering her mouth as her nails dug into his spine again.

“Tell me you love me,” Jemma moaned, desperate for the reassurance even though he had already said it once to her.

“I love you,” he groaned into her neck, sucking on her pulse. “Fuck, I love you more than anything.” At his words she felt herself brake, pussy clenching tight to the rigid line of his cock and fluttering around it, desperate for him to sink deeper.

“FITZ!” She screamed his name, unable to control herself as he thrust into her, his pace furious and messy until he lets out a roar, cock slamming into her once more before he pressed as tight to her as he could, hip bones digging into the sensitive skin of her thighs as he scrambled for purchase against sweat-soaked sheets. She thrashed, swearing that she could feel his cock pumping spurt after spurt of hot cum into her, so much that it was dripping out as he shivered through the last dregs of his release.

They stayed wrapped up in each other for what felt like ages, their chests heaving against one another as they both desperately tried to catch their breath. She felt his tears hitting her shoulder then, his entire body shaking as he sobbed, clinging tightly to her. Jemma felt her heart clench, trying to smooth her hands over his shoulders as she whispered soft platitudes into his hair, cradling him against her chest until he finally finished crying, body heavy with exhaustion as he calmed, sweat cooing on their skin.

Eventually, Fitz pulled away, both of them wincing as his cock slid from her, a thick trail of cum immediately following.

“Shit,” he muttered, voice raw eyes watching it pool against Jemma’s skin and the sheets. She shook her head, reaching out to tug him down next to her again as she rolled to her side. “I’m sorry. I should have –”

“Shh, don’t,” she whispered, her kisses sleepy and messy as she wrapped herself around him, throwing a leg over his hip to keep him close, needing the reassurance of his body as much as he had moments before.

“No, Jemma, I shouldn’t have –”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jemma insisted, licking into his mouth.

“But I-” he tried again.

“I’m already pregnant,” she murmured, the smirk that crossed her lips at the words both affectionate and saucy all at once. “You can fill me up all you want.” He stilled immediately, eyes wide.

“W-what?”

“Its how I know we’re going to get through this. You… you are a good man. And you are going to be a good father. We’ll get there.” Hands shaking, he pulled her tight to his chest, tears sliding down his cheeks again as he buried his face in her hair.

“Jem…”

“Why don’t you lie down in my room?” He offered, already steering her down the hall and into his bunk. His things were messy, scattered across the chair and desk, but his bed was neatly made. Jemma stumbled as they cleared the threshold, her knees giving out with exhaustion and shock. Deke quickly tightened his hold on her, half-dragging her to the bed until he could deposit her on the mattress. She was sobbing again within seconds, the sounds loud and so gut wrenching that it made Deke’s chest hurt. “What can I do?” He asked, desperate to make it better.

“I just want to be alone. Please,” Jemma forced out between hiccuping breaths. Every fibre in him fought against leaving her alone, but he obeyed, dropping the blanket over her carefully before slipping out of the room. Sighing, he ran his hands through his hair, unsure what to do with himself.

He took to wandering around, restless energy simmering beneath his skin as he circled through the base. He didn’t dare disturb Daisy, Mack or Elena - the three of them holed up in medical. He didn’t think he had ever seen Daisy so angry and hurt, her eyes shining with raw betrayal. He wasn’t sure what she would have told Mack and Elena. Wasn’t sure what Jemma would have said to them either, not privy to their family conversations.

In the end, he wound up back at his own door, carefully stepping inside to find that Jemma had cried herself to sleep. He sighed, exhaustion finally overwhelming him as he tugged his chair closer to the bed so he was nearby if she needed him, falling asleep within minutes.

It didn’t last long.

Jemma woke up screaming, scrambling against the bedding as if searching for something, her eyes wild as she backed into the wall, knees drawn up.

“Hey, hey, you’re alright,” Deke rushed, voice raw from sleep.

“Stay away!” Jemma yelled, panicked, eyes flicking around the room so frantically it made his head hurt.

“Grandma! Breathe.” The moniker he gave her seemed to jumpstart her mind, her hands falling to her sides as she finally settled her gaze on him. The calm lasted for only a heartbeat before she dissolved into tears again. Deke awkwardly stood up, sitting down on the edge of the mattress until she threw her arms around him, crying into his shoulder.

“What am I going to do?” she whimpered. “How are we supposed to fix this?” He knew she wasn’t talking about the world’s impending demise, but rather the entire team’s shattered relationship with Fitz - not to mention the impact to her own. It was something he didn’t have an answer for.

“I don’t know. But we’ll get there.”

—

She’s brittle suddenly. Barely speaking, only performing medical assessments and treatment and answering May’s questions when the other woman gets back. Deke follows her around, watching the dark circles under Jemma’s eyes grow and deepen in colour over the next few days. He knew he was acting like a dog, always at her heels, but he feels compelled, knowing that she’s one minute away from breaking completely.

He’s the one that goes into her bunk to get her clean clothes, her face blanching until she’s fleeing for the bathroom at the prospect, even two days after everything has fallen to shit. She’s stayed with him, his pillow nearly always soaked with her tears whenever she isn’t working.

Daisy regards him with an angry look whenever she sees him, arms crossed over her chest as he scampers after Jemma wherever she goes. Part of him wanted to care. The other part doesn’t. Too concerned with the state of his grandmother.

No one ventured down to the containment floor save for Piper, the woman gritting her teeth and following May’s instructions to at least make sure Fitz didn’t starve to death.

He thought about going down there once or twice, but in the end decided against it, simply because of how Jemma was deteriorating before his eyes. She could barely keep anything down. It was like their discussion in the tunnel had opened a dam of distress, manifesting in frequent nausea and vomiting. Deke tried to comfort her when he could. Held her hair back when she threw up while tending to Elena, the other woman’s eyes wide and worried before Jemma had hastily excused herself, Deke on her heels.

“I should be the one taking care of you,” she whimpered, hours later as she lay on his bed, head aching and exhausted.

“It’s okay,” he rushed, needing to reassure her. Jemma sniffed, closing her eyes against the tears that were building again.

“I’m terrified,” she admitted quietly.

“Of what?”

“That… that if I forgive him… that I will lose the rest of my family. That they’ll… that Daisy, especially, will never forgive me. That they’ll hate me.” The words came out broken and defeated. “But he’s my husband. I love him. Do I think he made the right choice? Yes, and no. We should have talked about it. Come up with a different solution but… but I understand his reasoning as well. And I can’t imagine what he must be thinking. How he must be struggling to comprehend what happened. His worst nightmares manifest in the recesses of his mind taking control because he knew… that he had to do something all of us would be against. Himself included. I just… I’m going to lose people I care about no matter what decision I make.”

“You won’t lose me,” he said quietly, awkwardly rubbing her arm in consolation. Jemma let out a shuddering laugh, unable to stop herself from crying.

“What am I supposed to do?” She croaked.

“Sleep on it.” Deke suggested, tucking a blanket around her. It took her a while, but she eventually fell into a restless slumber.

—

“Jemma. Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Elena asked, watching the other woman putter around the medical room. It was the first time in days that Jemma had appeared without her newly acquired shadow, Deke having still been sleeping when she got up a little while before.

“There’s nothing going on,” Jemma replied, breathing through a wave of vertigo before she moved to check Elena’s vitals.

“Jemma,” the inhuman said again, her voice pointed. “Are you going to tell him?”

Jemma crumpled at the question, sinking into a chair with her head in her hands.

“I don’t know if I can,” she confessed, hand straying to her stomach. “I don’t know if I can do this at all.”

“No matter what happened, don’t you think Fitz has a right to know?” Elena pressed, feeling guilty immediately when Jemma burst into silent tears.

“I don’t know if I want to tell him. If I can. I… if I go down there you’re all going to hate me,” The words came out hitching and raw, Jemma’s eyes focused on the floor. “And you have a right to. He hurt all of us. Betrayed all of us. Lied to me. Took Daisy’s choice away from her but… but all I want to do is let him hold me and tell me this is going to be okay.” She was gasping for breath by the end, hastily wrapping her arms around herself to try and keep herself from shaking apart. Every part of her suddenly felt like it was trembling, as if the next breath could tear her to shreds.

Deke chose that moment to crash into the room, barely paying Elena any attention as he rushed over, pulling Jemma into a tight hug.

“I’ve got you,” he murmured, feeling her hands scramble at his coat. “Come on, let’s put you back to bed. You’re exhausted.” Elena expected Jemma to protest, but she didn’t, nearly collapsing into Deke’s hold as he got her to her feet and led her out of the room, passing Daisy as they went.

“What was that?” The hacker queried, coming into the room with her tablet in hand. Elena clenched her jaw for a moment before looking Daisy straight in the eyes.

“I think we need to talk. About Jemma. And Fitz.” Her words were firm and measured, her resolve prepared for the angry look that crossed Daisy’s face.

“I don’t think -” Daisy began.

“Jemma is pregnant,” Elena said, cutting her off and watching Daisy’s eyes grow wide as she dropped down into the chair Jemma had vacated.

“What?!”

“She’s been sick almost every day. And Deke keeps watching her like something is wrong.”

“Well that could be-”

“Daisy, in all the time you have known her and all the crap we have gone through, have you ever seen Jemma be sick?” She pressed. Daisy took a moment to think before shaking her head.

“Well, she hasn’t told us so…” Daisy muttered.

“Do you blame her?” Elena shot back. “I don’t blame you, or Mack, or Jemma for being angry about what happened. Or for being angry with Fitz. I’m angry too. But Jemma is carrying something we cannot understand. She hasn’t told us because she probably thinks we’re going to be mad. That we would hate the baby. That we’re going to hate her because she’s having a baby with the man she loves, no matter what he’s done. I’m not telling you to forgive Fitz. That’s your decision. But I am telling you to go easy on Jemma. I don’t think she would be able to live with everything if she were to lose that baby.”

Daisy sat quietly, nodding at the words.

“I’ll try,” she finally said.

—

“What’s going on with you and Simmons?” Daisy asked, cornering Deke in the kitchen as he stared at the various packages of food, hoping to find something Jemma could keep down.

“W-what? What do you mean? Nothing’s going on,” he scrambled, promptly knocking a box of cereal to the floor. Daisy frowned, crossing her arms over her chest as she waited for a proper answer. It took a moment but eventually Deke sighed, irritation and exhaustion removing his filter. “I’m sorry, I seem to be the only one willing to talk to her since all this shit blew up in our faces. She’s sick and not sleeping and her husband fucked up royally but she still loves him but she can’t even bare to talk to him cause she knows the minute she does, you stupid vultures are going to beat the shit out of her. Emotionally, I mean.”

“Deke-”

“No, you know what? That is my grandma you’re talking about and treating like garbage. I’m allowed to be pissed off and want to keep her safe, okay?!”

The words feel like a slap to the face, sending Daisy reeling as she stumbled backwards.

“What?!” She demanded. Deke clenched his jaw.

“You heard me. And I get it. I get that you’re pissed and you can’t forgive my grandpa for what he did. I can understand that. But you do not get to take that out on her.” He didn’t say anything else, grabbing a few things off the counter and disappearing from the kitchen. Daisy just blinked, watching him go.

—

“Jemma?” Daisy called her name quietly, not wanting to alarm the other woman who is trying to work simulations about Coulson’s illness at the other end of the room, tucked into an alcove and seemingly trying to make herself as small and inconspicuous as possible.

“D-daisy,” Jemma stammered, panic barely shuttered away behind her eyes. Daisy couldn’t help but wince when she got a proper look at the other woman. Skin pale, deep circles beneath her eyes, and a sadness that was nearly all encompassing. One that instantly conjured the word hopeless in Daisy’s mind.

“Can we talk for a second?” The hacker queried, inching forward until she was directly in front of Jemma.

“Alright.”

“I’m still really, really angry,” Daisy started, blowing out a long breath. “And it’s going to take me a long time to… to move past that. And I can’t be sure that I ever will. What happened… It just… I don’t know where to go from here Jem. I really don’t. But… but I know that regardless of how angry and betrayed I feel it’s not fair to expect… to make you feel like you can’t… that you can’t tell Fitz what’s going on.”

“There’s nothing going on,” Jemma defended, swallowing hard at the sad look Daisy threw her.

“Jemma. You’re allowed to tell Fitz you’re pregnant.”

An awkward silence settled over them as Jemma stared for a moment before dropping her gaze.

“I don’t know if I should,” she muttered, cursing her hormones for the millionth time when she felt herself tearing up again. It felt like all she ever did was feel sick, be sick, cry, and sleep; the few moment in between filled with immeasurable feelings of guilt and regret. “If… if the stress of everything is what caused him to disassociate I can’t… dropping this on him… I can’t.”

“But what’s the stress doing to you?” Daisy prodded gently.

“I’m sorry. You shouldn’t have to be consoling me when -” Jemma’s voice broke on the words.

“Stop. You are my best friend. And yes, I am tired and angry and scared. I am so scared Jemma. Coulson is missing and might be dying right now. I now have these powers that are going to destroy the world and that terrifies me. But at the same time…. you finally thought you were getting a bit of happiness and suddenly it was ripped away from you. Again. I… I can’t be a part of making that worse. I love you… both of you, too much for that. Even if I can’t forgive him.” Daisy pulled her into a tight hug then, kissing the side of her head. “Just… think about it. Telling him. We can figure it out. Get some help. Okay?”

“Okay.”

—

Jemma still didn’t go to the containment cells. Rather, it was Daisy that sucked in a deep breath before venturing into the darkened area, keeping to the shadows as she watched Fitz through the window. He was muttering to himself, fist banging against the side of his head as he fought with his own demons. He looked utterly disheveled, unwashed and unkempt. Someone had brought him a change of clothes, but it did little to distract from the black circles beneath his eyes.

“Hey,” she called softly, drawing his attention. He startled, frowning at the sight of her.

“A-are you actually here or am I even more fucked up than I thought?” His question was rife with uncertainty, voice rough from disuse at anything above a whisper for days on end.

“You’re pretty fucked up, but I’m not a hallucination,” Daisy retorted, arms crossed over her chest. He nodded, eyes dropping back to the mattress as he fidgeted with his wedding ring.

“It’s not an excuse or a defence but… I think I might be schizophrenic,” he mumbled.

“More likely its dissociative identity disorder compounded by PTSD and your brain injury,” she replied. “You’re right though. It’s not an excuse.”

Silence settled over them, Daisy’s eyes tracking his movements while Fitz stayed on the bed.

“I… I have no right to ask for your forgiveness. And I’m not. I don’t deserve it. But… for what it’s worth, I am so, so sorry. Sorry that I didn’t figure it out sooner. That I didn’t find an alternative. That I didn’t discuss any of it with you to get your consent. That- that I put your life and everyone else’s in such danger. Y-you should t-turn me over to the p-police. It would be safer if I was locked up away from you all.”

“Yeah, because that evidently worked so well after the Framework.” Her words felt like a knife, plunging into his stomach. Daisy let out a long breath, foot tapping nervously against the floor, a battle warring inside her from the moment she had decided to come down and face him. Part of her wanted to hurt him; part of her wanting to banish him, and the last, tiny part wanting her friend to just understand why she was so, so angry and hurt and betrayed. “I’m only going to say this once so I need you to listen and try to understand,” she said.

“Okay,” he said after a moment, glancing up at her for a brief second before his eyes went back to his wedding ring.

“Ever since I was a kid I have had my choices taken away from me. Foster home to foster home. At school. Even being dragged into this fucking circus we call our lives. None of that was my choice, not really. And then I became Inhuman. Didn’t get a choice in that. Got possessed by Hive. Nope, no choice in that either. And then sucked into the Framework and spat back out and then pulled into the future and tortured, thrown into a ring where I was meant to kill or be killed. Being told I’m going to be the one to destroy the world… I didn’t get a choice in anything. And I wanted to stay there. In the future. Because I wanted you all to be safe. And then C-coulson took my agency from me there, too. He knocked me out so I couldn’t fight to stay. He didn’t give me a choice Fitz. It was… it was my choice to keep my inhibitor. Because I cannot stomach the idea that I am going to kill everyone. And… and you took that away from me. I am losing every little bit of control I have over my life. No one is letting me make choices for myself. And to- to have the closest people I have to family be the ones to take that away from me…”

The words echoed around the room, making her chest tight as she forced them out, noticing how Fitz was silently crying at her confession, splashing onto the blanket beneath him.

“I am so, so sorry. I know it isn’t enough. It never will be. But I am.” The words were broken but she heard them. Sucking in a deep breath, she pushed the door open, walking into the room. Fitz jolted backwards, backing into the wall, his eyes wide.

“I don’t know if I’m ever going to be able to forgive you,” she said.

“I wouldn’t ask you too,” he rushed.

“But… you are still my family. And right now, your wife needs you. She is terrified of losing you. So we need to figure out a way to get you some help. So that you can learn to deal with the crazy amount of traumatic shit you’ve been through.” He nodded in reply. “But for now I need you to do two things for me Fitz.”

“Anything,” he croaked.

“I need you to get some sleep. This… trauma like this is worse if you’re not sleeping. And I need you to tell me or Jemma when you’re hearing him. And what he’s saying. What.. what your brain is telling you. I can’t trust you unless you start being honest with us.”

--

Jemma was asleep on the sofa when Daisy got back. The biochemist’s head was pillowed on Deke’s legs, the man timidly stroking her hair. Daisy sniffed, eyes still red from crying after her confrontation with Fitz. It left a bitter taste in her mouth, having such a terse conversation with someone she considered a brother, but she had needed the catharsis.

“How’s she doing?” Daisy whispered, swiping at her nose with her sleeve.

“Really tired today,” Deke replied.

“So… they’re really your grandparents?” she asked, sitting on the opposite chair.

“Yeah.”

“So… you’re looking after your grandma. While she’s pregnant with your mom. That is… messed up.”

“Thanks.”

Silence settled between them as Daisy fidgeted.

“I don’t know where we all go from here,” Daisy confessed after a beat.

“I don’t think any of us do,” Deke said, tucking Jemma’s hair behind her ear. “But we’ll figure it out.”

--