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“You’re a fire, burning up in my brain. You can’t be tamed for me. You struck a match and left me to burn.” Let Them In by Pvris
Bobbi refuses to grieve for Jemma, it doesn’t feel right. Grieving would be admitting that she was gone for good and until there was evidence of that being a fact Bobbi wasn’t going to admit to it.
It’s been three months, three solid months with no real leads. Fitz was heading up any real investigations. Bobbi could run back end and she had a hand in research but she wasn’t on the front lines, she couldn’t be. Her body was hardly ready for doing much of anything that involved getting out of bed, never mind leaving the base and that seeded a jealousy too strong to be considered casual.
Bobbi dreams about her and she thinks it’s strange because it had been so long since she thought of Simmons in that way. She had been distracted with Shield divided and Hunter’s grudge against her. Bobbi thinks most of her dreams are made up, painkiller infused fantasies of Jemma in lab and in reach but the most vivid are the ones that are partly drawn out of memory. There was the way Jemma smiled at her on the quinjet on their extraction from Hydra. The surprise on her face the first time she had launched into a spiel about complicated genetics and realized that Bobbi had been comprehensively following along. Though the one Bobbi finds is hardest to wake from is a memory that she finds questionable. Its blurred and clouded with morphine and the heavy feeling of anesthetic wearing off.
In the dream Jemma is speaking to her, telling her that she’s alright but there is a long way to go. She can feel the brush of cool fingers on her cheek and she knows Jemma is close to her, hovering near to be heard. Jemma whispers things she is sure her subconscious has provided and inserted into the vague memory but she can’t help but to wonder about it.
Some days she breaches the keep out warning on the heavy containment door and she sits watching the encased rock that seems so much more eerie now that it is solid. It was the first thing they’d noticed, it doesn’t change anymore, no more sudden whoosh of liquid just to pull back into form. It is a barrier, an unbreakable shell, and everything about it chills Bobbi to the core.
What is more terrifying is how she can feel herself falling and how awful it feels to be falling into nothing. She wants more than the memory of Jemma’s breath tickling her neck and the last blurry image she has of concern riddled into Jemma’s expression even as she told her she was going to be alright, always the endearing liar. Bobbi doesn’t want to feel things for a ghost. She doesn’t want to give in to whatever was creeping into her but she wouldn’t grieve either. Not finding Jemma wasn’t an option, but loving her, that was another story. A problem for another day.
send me a “☁” and i will put my itunes on shuffle, pick my favorite line from the first song that comes up and use it for a drabblmuse
