I&#x27;m the impossible girl.

#trustxthescarecrowxman #nsfw

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Even as he came down from his high, the Doctor’s hand never left her hair. His fingers carded lazily through her locks, pulling a gentle smile from her lips. His comment made her chuckle. She shifted, crawling up the bed so they were eye to eye once more.

“Can you blame me?” She asked, twinkle in her eye. “I’ve never seen you look that relaxed, and that was all my doing. What a way to stroke a girl’s ego.”

trustxthescarecrowxman

timetravelingclara‌:

Keep reading

#trustxthescarecrowxman #war and peace #nsfw

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His head dropped back to the pillow and Clara hummed contentedly to herself, the noise shooting a vibration through him. His fingers pressed insistently against her hair and she swallowed around him, tongue laving against the underside of his cock.

There was something powerful about having a Time Lord come undone beneath you, Clara was finding out. He always seemed so composed and put together, but with her lips around his length he seemed a mess. His hips rose to meet her mouth and dainty hands pressed them back against the bed, holding him in place as she continued her ministrations.

mycompromise

timetravelingclara‌:

Clara shook her head rapidly, swallowing her coffee before explaining. “No, I definitely think London would be more interesting,” she clarified. “But there are only so many teaching jobs there, and this way I’m a bit closer to my dad. Besides, Coal Hill is a nice place to work.”

He seemed to get caught up in his explanation. Teaching had a lot of excitement to it, especially when the students excelled. Although his answer was a bit cheesy, she couldn’t fault him for it. Many teachers felt that way.

“Well, I suppose it started because I love books,” she explained. “I love to read. I love that words on a page can take you somewhere brand new that you’ve never been before and that people all over the world can share that experience. This job lets me share it with every kid in my class all at once.”

He was rather enthralled with all of this already; learning so much so quickly, one could almost consider him the student in this moment. He tried his very best not to gawk like someone who had just decided that they could, in fact, fall in love with the person speaking. Unfortunately for the Doctor, in moments like these he wasn’t exactly the most subtle man in the world.

It was the wanderlust, the sense of adventure, the excitement. He was quite fond of Miss Oswald, he decided.

“Let me sneak another question in - just a small one, for curiosity’s sake: what’s your favourite book? Are you a classics kind of person? Sci-fi? Romance?” Who knew that books could act as such a valuable insight into the character of a person? “And I think - correct me if I’m wrong - that you have two questions to ask, now.”

Clara sipped her coffee as she contemplated his question. She’d never been one to favor a book over another, but she got asked the question quite often. She supposed she tended to gravitate towards a certain type of book, but nothing was off-limits for her library.

“I don’t think that I have a favorite,” she answered finally. “I have a soft spot in my heart for classics, but I’ll read just about anything I can get my hands on. I’m always looking for new authors to read.”

Now she had to ponder her questions. He’d made a comment before about whether or not she was from Earth, so she went with an easy question. “Alright,” she said, setting her mug back down on the desk. “Question one, then. Where are you from?”

His accent suggested England, possibly London, but he could just as easily have been born somewhere else.

#mycompromise

raiswanson

me reading my own writing: a classic! hilarious! ohoho i am oscar wilde i am very clever

also me reading my own writing: what is this abomination i have unleashed upon society. i’m like dr. frankenstein but with words that are bad

#OOC #Julia speaks

timetravelingclara‌:

brxkcnengineer‌:

Skye nodded at Jemma’s whispered request, squinting at the piece of glass in her palm. “On three,” she whispered back to her, looking to see the biochemist hide her face in Fitz’s curls. And honestly? It was a relief to Skye that Jemma wasn’t going to look.

She did her best to move quickly, carefully removing the piece of glass from her friend’s hand, immediately pressing a large piece of gauze over it to staunch the BLEEDING.

“It’s out,” she whispered, carefully lifting up the gauze to check on the wound. The bleeding was starting to slow down, thankfully.

Jemma tightened her grip on Fitz as she felt the glass shard slide out of her hand. Skye had been right - it was painful. She whimpered into the man’s curls, grip loosening as the pain ebbed away. She could feel Skye press a pad of gauze to the wound and forced herself to take a deep breath. “Thank you.”

She turned her attention back to Fitz, worried that she might have upset him. She and Skye had decided silently not to alert him to the problem, but he had to have heard what just happened. Her uninjured hand stroked his hair gently, his head still pressed against her chest. “You must be exhausted,” she murmured. “After this, when you think you can stand, we’ll go to bed, yeah? Your bunk or mine. Whichever one you want.”

“Can sleep on th’floor,” Fitz mumbled, his voice muffled. “I don’t care. Am just tired.”

He sounded like a child as he spoke, sniffling as he tried to sit back up, dizzy eyes looking around the lab, at the damage that he had done. “I’m sorry,” he whimpered, swallowing back the lump in his throat. “I didn’t… didn’t mean t’wreck ev… everythin’.”

Skye shook her head. “Fitz, it’s okay,” she said. “We understand. Don’t worry.” She looked over to Jemma. “I… wouldn’t let him sleep too much. He might have a concussion.”

Thank god Fitz hadn’t noticed her hand. She didn’t want to think about another possible spiral. She felt him sit up just as Skye finished wrapping her hand, blearily looking around the lab. “Don’t be silly,” she chimed in. “Maybe now the higher ups will finally give us those upgrades we’ve been asking for.”

A concussion. Of course. Jemma chewed nervously on her lip before leaning to put herself in Fitz’s field of vision. “You know what?” She asked. “I don’t think I could sleep if I tried. Let’s put on a movie, hmm?”

timetravelingclara‌:

brxkcnengineer‌:

Coulson was quiet at her request, hesitant to agree. He knew that she would just want to help, but he also knew that it would only end up making her more stressed, more overwhelmed. Just once, if they could catch a break, if they could go a month without one of them getting hurt.

She squeezed his hand, but Fitz didn’t squeeze back. The monitors beeped and the ventilators whirred, but FITZ didn’t move, his chest rising and falling at the pace dictated by machines, forcing him to BREATHE. Once more unto the breach…

“I’ll see what I can do,” Coulson finally said, giving Jemma a small nod as he turned to the door, leaving the two of them in peaceful silence, letting her sit by her fiancé’s bedside as he lay there, unconscious.

They were alone for a while, everything quiet and stable. Fitz hadn’t made any change, still unconscious with Jemma at his side. A few hours had gone by before there was a gentle knock at the door, and May stepped in, keeping her voice low.

“Simmons? You have a couple of visitors,” she told her, leaving the door open and stepping back out into the hall, letting Jemma’s mum and dad come in.

She knew Coulson well enough to know that he wasn’t going to bring her a computer. He was trying to be kind, to allow her to focus on Fitz and Fitz alone, but she wanted to help. She’d ask Skye for one later, she decided.

When Coulson left Jemma took a minute just to stare at Fitz. How had it come to this? A week ago they’d been getting engaged, laughter echoing about the base every morning since as they partook in what could only be described as the afterglow of the century. Everything had seemed new and beautiful and joyous, even the things that were normally monotonous. Fitz had been continuing to improve, his speech better than Jemma could remember it being. She hadn’t had a nightmare in close to a month. It had seemed like they were healing.

But now things were different. Now Fitz was in a hospital bed again, attached to a ventilator again, and the beeps of the machines made her want to puncture her eardrums so she’d never have to hear them again. She sat by his bedside for hours, regaling him with stories of her time back home. When she ran out of stories she retrieved a basin of water and a rag, gently swiping the dried blood off his face and neck so he looked more like himself. When she finally ran out of things to do — things to keep her occupied — she sat down and cried, feeling small and helpless by his side.

It was then that May came in, her voice gently disrupting the silence of the room. Visitors? It had to be the team. She didn’t know if she could face them right then. But then she heard the sound of nervous shuffling and looked up to see her parents standing in the medical bay of a secret S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. Outside the glass doors she spotted Coulson, who gave her a soft smile and a thumbs up. Jemma practically leapt from her chair, throwing her arms around her mother and sobbing.

“I don’t want to lose him…”

Jemma’s mother held her daughter close, rubbing gentle circles on her back like she would do when she was younger, when she was ill or upset, hoping it would still bring her the same comfort.

“You won’t lose him, love,” she whispered to her, shaking her head the tiniest bit. “You’ve still got him, and if there’s one thing I know, it’s that that man loves you too much to EVER leave you in any way.”

She pulled back to look her daughter in the eyes, giving her a gentle smile, wiping away her tears with her thumb. Her father stepped over, pulling her in for another hug, shushing her softly as she cried.

“It’s gonna be alright, Jemma,” he told her. “He’s gonna be fine, don’t you worry, darling. It’ll be okay in the end.”

Jemma glanced back at Fitz once more before allowing her attention to turn to her parents. “How are you even here?” She asked, sniffling softly as her mother bushed tears off her face. “We’re not allowed to have civilians on the base...”

It felt odd calling her parents civilians, but it was the rule. She suspected Coulson had something to do with it, but why? Was it a sign thst things with Fitz were worse than they appeared? She tried her hardest not to dwell on it. “I’m glad you’re here,” she said finally, wrapping her arms around her father as he pulled her in for a hug.

[update]

Hey all!

You may have noticed in the past few weeks that I’ve been writing as other characters, too. I am toying with the idea of making this a multi-muse blog versus making a new blog for Jemma Simmons. It’s much more likely this will become multi-muse.

Thanks for bearing with me during the transition period!

#ooc

timetravelingclara‌:

brxkcnengineer‌:

Fitz was quiet as Skye started to clean up the blood on his hand, bandaging it. He didn’t even notice when Jemma spoke to the other agent. He just kept his eyes closed, his head resting on her shoulder.

Skye looked up at her words, brown eyes widening in shock. “Don’t move,” she whispered, grabbing a roll of medical tape to secure the bandage to Fitz’s hand.

“Fitz,” she said gently. “I’m just gonna clean up the glass, okay? You can keep your eyes closed if it makes you feel better. Jemma won’t let go, just focus on your breathing, okay?”

The engineer grumbled something in agreement, managing a nod as Skye moved closer to Jemma, one hand gently grabbing her wrist to keep her hand steady, her other reaching to carefully remove the glass, another bandage at the ready.

“Don’t move.”

That was something Jemma could handle. She nodded at Skye, holding her shaking hand off to the side so blood wouldn’t drip on Fitz’s clothing. Skye bandaged his hand quickly and Jemma continued to murmur softly to him, telling him how much she loved him and how after this, when he was ready, she’d hold him the same way in their bed until he fell asleep.

Jemma stretched her arm out to Skye when the hacker motioned for it, elbow resting lightly on Fitz’s side in an effort to keep her hand steady. She could tell by the look on Skye’s face that taking out the glass was going to hurt, and she screwed up her face at the thought. “Do it quickly,” she requested, burying her eyes in Fitz’s curls so she wouldn’t have to watch.

Skye nodded at Jemma’s whispered request, squinting at the piece of glass in her palm. “On three,” she whispered back to her, looking to see the biochemist hide her face in Fitz’s curls. And honestly? It was a relief to Skye that Jemma wasn’t going to look.

She did her best to move quickly, carefully removing the piece of glass from her friend’s hand, immediately pressing a large piece of gauze over it to staunch the BLEEDING.

“It’s out,” she whispered, carefully lifting up the gauze to check on the wound. The bleeding was starting to slow down, thankfully.

Jemma tightened her grip on Fitz as she felt the glass shard slide out of her hand. Skye had been right - it was painful. She whimpered into the man’s curls, grip loosening as the pain ebbed away. She could feel Skye press a pad of gauze to the wound and forced herself to take a deep breath. “Thank you.”

She turned her attention back to Fitz, worried that she might have upset him. She and Skye had decided silently not to alert him to the problem, but he had to have heard what just happened. Her uninjured hand stroked his hair gently, his head still pressed against her chest. “You must be exhausted,” she murmured. “After this, when you think you can stand, we’ll go to bed, yeah? Your bunk or mine. Whichever one you want.”

timetravelingclara‌:

brxkcnengineer‌:

Coulson lingered in the doorway, hesitating at her question. What happened? The director took a breath, trying to think of the answer, of what he could say that wouldn’t make this whole thing any WORSE.

“We’re… not sure, yet,” he admitted, shaking his head a little. “The security cameras were damaged in the explosion, Skye has been trying to recover the footage, but… We don’t know for certain, but we think it was a sabotage.”

He was quiet for a moment, looking from Jemma to Fitz, seeing that they were in the same position as they always seemed to be – her at his bedside, holding his hand and just waiting for him to wake up. Tubes and wires everywhere, monitors beeping, assuring them all that Fitz was still alive.

“From what we’ve been able to recover from the damage, there was… something. Fitz went to see what it was, by the looks of it, as soon as he touched it, everything exploded. There’s footage of someone leaving the base, we’re running facial recognition, but we think this was a plan, an attack made specifically for Fitz.”

Sabotage.

The word seemed to echo in her head, sending her thoughts running a mile a minute. Who would do something like that? Had it been an attack on S.H.I.E.L.D.? On that specific base? On Fitz? She didn’t know which of the three was scariest but she knew which one she hated the most.

She listened on, nodding to show she understood though her eyes never left Fitz’s face. He was cut up, burns and scratches on what exposed skin she could see, and it made her want to find whoever did it herself. She’d give them a piece of her mind — and she’d make it hurt. Biochemistry could do all sorts of horrific things.

Coulson finally said what she’d been fearing and she felt her shoulders sag with defeat. An attack made specifically for Fitz. She took a breath to try and compose herself, hand squeezing her fiancé’s out of habit. “If you can bring me a computer, I can help,” she said. “I want to help.” The rest of her statement was unspoken, but Coulson knew. I want to help but I won’t leave him.

Coulson was quiet at her request, hesitant to agree. He knew that she would just want to help, but he also knew that it would only end up making her more stressed, more overwhelmed. Just once, if they could catch a break, if they could go a month without one of them getting hurt.

She squeezed his hand, but Fitz didn’t squeeze back. The monitors beeped and the ventilators whirred, but FITZ didn’t move, his chest rising and falling at the pace dictated by machines, forcing him to BREATHE. Once more unto the breach…

“I’ll see what I can do,” Coulson finally said, giving Jemma a small nod as he turned to the door, leaving the two of them in peaceful silence, letting her sit by her fiancé’s bedside as he lay there, unconscious.

They were alone for a while, everything quiet and stable. Fitz hadn’t made any change, still unconscious with Jemma at his side. A few hours had gone by before there was a gentle knock at the door, and May stepped in, keeping her voice low.

“Simmons? You have a couple of visitors,” she told her, leaving the door open and stepping back out into the hall, letting Jemma’s mum and dad come in.

She knew Coulson well enough to know that he wasn’t going to bring her a computer. He was trying to be kind, to allow her to focus on Fitz and Fitz alone, but she wanted to help. She’d ask Skye for one later, she decided.

When Coulson left Jemma took a minute just to stare at Fitz. How had it come to this? A week ago they’d been getting engaged, laughter echoing about the base every morning since as they partook in what could only be described as the afterglow of the century. Everything had seemed new and beautiful and joyous, even the things that were normally monotonous. Fitz had been continuing to improve, his speech better than Jemma could remember it being. She hadn’t had a nightmare in close to a month. It had seemed like they were healing.

But now things were different. Now Fitz was in a hospital bed again, attached to a ventilator again, and the beeps of the machines made her want to puncture her eardrums so she’d never have to hear them again. She sat by his bedside for hours, regaling him with stories of her time back home. When she ran out of stories she retrieved a basin of water and a rag, gently swiping the dried blood off his face and neck so he looked more like himself. When she finally ran out of things to do — things to keep her occupied — she sat down and cried, feeling small and helpless by his side.

It was then that May came in, her voice gently disrupting the silence of the room. Visitors? It had to be the team. She didn’t know if she could face them right then. But then she heard the sound of nervous shuffling and looked up to see her parents standing in the medical bay of a secret S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. Outside the glass doors she spotted Coulson, who gave her a soft smile and a thumbs up. Jemma practically lept from her chair, throwing her arms around her mother and sobbing.

“I don’t want to lose him...”

timetravelingclara‌:

brxkcnengineer‌:

He calmed more at her touch, his breathing evening out as he sat there, as she ran her hand across his back. His head was starting to ache, the pain reverberating through his skull. He whimpered, trying to cling to her as Skye came back with the first aid kit.

Fitz took a shaky breath as Skye took his hand, holding a penlight between her teeth, shining it at his palm to make sure there wasn’t any glass stuck there. Fitz wouldn’t look, wouldn’t speak, only just hissing in pain when Skye pressed a cloth to his hand.

“Ow,” he grumbled, shaking his head a tiny bit. He clung to Jemma even more, trembling in her arms as Skye started to bandage his hand. “Am… am sorry…”

Jemma chose not to focus on what Skye was doing to his hand, choosing instead to keep her attention on Fitz. For his part, he seemed worried about what Skye was doing, and she wanted to assuage those fears. She pressed another kiss to his temple as he hissed, hoping he’d choose to focus on that sensation instead.

She could feel his grip on her tighten. In a strange way, it made her feel better. He still needed her, even if she didn’t always do the right thing, even if she sill needed Skye’s help when it came to situations like this.

Jemma shifted under him, their movements having caused her to slip down on the slick floor. She pulled her hand off his back to push the two of them up, back to a better sitting position, and bit her tongue to stifle the sound of a hiss as her hand came down hard on a large shard of glass. She pulled her hand up to look at it, eyes blinking rapidly as she took in the medium-sized piece of glass sticking out from her palm, slow rivulets of blood beginning to come down to her wrist.

“Skye,” she murmured, voice gentle and quiet. She didn’t want to panic Fitz. “Look.”

Fitz was quiet as Skye started to clean up the blood on his hand, bandaging it. He didn’t even notice when Jemma spoke to the other agent. He just kept his eyes closed, his head resting on her shoulder.

Skye looked up at her words, brown eyes widening in shock. “Don’t move,” she whispered, grabbing a roll of medical tape to secure the bandage to Fitz’s hand.

“Fitz,” she said gently. “I’m just gonna clean up the glass, okay? You can keep your eyes closed if it makes you feel better. Jemma won’t let go, just focus on your breathing, okay?”

The engineer grumbled something in agreement, managing a nod as Skye moved closer to Jemma, one hand gently grabbing her wrist to keep her hand steady, her other reaching to carefully remove the glass, another bandage at the ready.

“Don’t move.”

That was something Jemma could handle. She nodded at Skye, holding her shaking hand off to the side so boood wouldn’t drip on Fitz’s clothing. Skye bandaged his hand quickly and Jemma continued to murmur softly to him, telling him how much she loved him and how after this, when he was ready, she’d hold him the same way in their bed until he fell asleep.

Jemma stretched her arm out to Skye when the hacker motioned for it, elbow resting lightly on Fitz’s side in an effort to keep her hand steady. She could tell by the look on Skye’s face that taking out the glass was going to hurt, and she screwed up her face at the thought. “Do it quickly,” she requested, burying her eyes in Fitz’s curls so she wouldn’t have to watch.

timetravelingclara‌:

brxkcnengineer‌:

When May landed the Quinjet, in an empty field a few miles from Jemma’s childhood home, she was quiet (as usual) and apologetic. Trip took her suitcase, sat beside her through the whole flight, trying to be of some comfort.

Landing back at the medical facility, Skye was the first person to embrace Jemma, hugging her tightly, apologizing quietly in her ear. Bobbi and Hunter both came up to her, trying to help. It felt like years had gone by before Coulson came up to talk with Jemma.

“He’s alive,” he started, watching the whole team breath out in relief. “He’s unconscious, but he’s stable. He’s banged up, looks a little rough, but he’s alive, Jemma. He’ll be okay.” He gave her a weak smile. “You can come and see him, whenever you’re ready, okay?”

Everything went by in a haze. She was aware of Trip sitting with her on the flight, of Skye hugging her when they landed, and of the fact that she’d cried quietly into Skye’s shoulder. She was aware of Bobbi’s gentle touch and Hunter’s stammered attempts to make her feel better, but none of it felt real. It all felt like a dream.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Coulson came to speak to her. She felt herself breathe a sigh of relief at hearing that Fitz was alive, even though Skye had told her as much on the phone. She didn’t care what Fitz looked like. She’d seen him worse before, bleeding out on the floor of a Hydra base.

When Coulson offered to let her see him she nodded, unsure if she could use her words without breaking down. She followed him back further into the facility, down winding hallways and into what could have passed as hospital room. Coulson settled her into a chair by Fitz’s bedside and she reached for his hand, fingers curling around his palm as she held on tight.

She could feel Coulson hovering in the doorway, waiting to make sure she’d be okay on her own before leaving. She didn’t know if she would be. “What happened?” She finally managed to croak out.

Coulson lingered in the doorway, hesitating at her question. What happened? The director took a breath, trying to think of the answer, of what he could say that wouldn’t make this whole thing any WORSE.

“We’re… not sure, yet,” he admitted, shaking his head a little. “The security cameras were damaged in the explosion, Skye has been trying to recover the footage, but… We don’t know for certain, but we think it was a sabotage.”

He was quiet for a moment, looking from Jemma to Fitz, seeing that they were in the same position as they always seemed to be – her at his bedside, holding his hand and just waiting for him to wake up. Tubes and wires everywhere, monitors beeping, assuring them all that Fitz was still alive.

“From what we’ve been able to recover from the damage, there was… something. Fitz went to see what it was, by the looks of it, as soon as he touched it, everything exploded. There’s footage of someone leaving the base, we’re running facial recognition, but we think this was a plan, an attack made specifically for Fitz.”

Sabotage.

The word seemed to echo in her head, sending her thoughts running a mile a minute. Who would do something like that? Had it been an attack on S.H.I.E.L.D.? On that specific base? On Fitz? She didn’t know which of the three was scariest but she knew which one she hated the most.

She listened on, nodding to show she understood though her eyes never left Fitz’s face. He was cut up, burns and scratches on what exposed skin she could see, and it made her want to find whoever did it herself. She’d give them a piece of her mind — and she’d make it hurt. Biochemistry could do all sorts of horrific things.

Coulson finally said what she’d been fearing and she felt her shoulders sag with defeat. An attack made specifically for Fitz. She took a breath to try and compose herself, hand squeezing her fiancé’s out of habit. “If you can bring me a computer, I can help,” she said. “I want to help.” The rest of her statement was unspoken, but Coulson knew. I want to help but I won’t leave him.

timetravelingclara‌:

brxkcnengineer‌:

Fitz more or less just slumped into her arms, the tears now falling freely down his face, his whole body trembling as he started to sob. He grabbed weakly at her arm with his uninjured hand, holding on to the fabric of her sweatshirt.

( Though, it was really his, and she’d been ‘borrowing’ it for the past few weeks. )

He just melted at her touch, shaking as he sobbed, tiny whimpers escaping him. He tried to speak, tried to get the right words, but he couldn’t speak, couldn’t manage the words.

Skye returned a moment or so later, setting the first aid kit on the floor, pushing aside the bits of broken glass. “Hey, Fitz, I’m just gonna take a look at your hand, okay?”

Fitz hit her chest with a dull thump and her arms wrapped around him instantly, securing him to her chest. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head, murmuring how much she loved him into his curls, her hand tracing soothing lines on his back.

“It’s alright, Fitz,” she soothed. “I’m right here. You’re safe. You’re right here with me and Skye, and we won’t let anything happen to you.” She could feel him trembling in her arms and it tugged at her heart. “I love you. I love you so much, and I’m here for you. I’m right here.”

Skye returned with the first aid kit and Jemma shot her a melancholy smile. Fitz didn’t seem to respond when Skye spoke to him and Jemma slowly shifted back so she could look at the engineer, one hand gently pulling his fingers from her (his) sweatshirt. “Let Skye look at your hand, okay?” She urged, pressing another kiss to his curls. “I’m not moving. You can stay right here with me.”

He calmed more at her touch, his breathing evening out as he sat there, as she ran her hand across his back. His head was starting to ache, the pain reverberating through his skull. He whimpered, trying to cling to her as Skye came back with the first aid kit.

Fitz took a shaky breath as Skye took his hand, holding a penlight between her teeth, shining it at his palm to make sure there wasn’t any glass stuck there. Fitz wouldn’t look, wouldn’t speak, only just hissing in pain when Skye pressed a cloth to his hand.

“Ow,” he grumbled, shaking his head a tiny bit. He clung to Jemma even more, trembling in her arms as Skye started to bandage his hand. “Am… am sorry…”

Jemma chose not to focus on what Skye was doing to his hand, choosing instead to keep her attention on Fitz. For his part, he seemed worried about what Skye was doing, and she wanted to assuage those fears. She pressed another kiss to his temple as he hissed, hoping he’d choose to focus on that sensation instead.

She could feel his grip on her tighten. In a strange way, it made her feel better. He still needed her, even if she didn’t always do the right thing, even if she sill needed Skye’s help when it came to situations like this.

Jemma shifted under him, their movements having caused her to slip down on the slick floor. She pulled her hand off his back to push the two of them up, back to a better sitting position, and bit her tongue to stifle the sound of a hiss as her hand came down hard on a large shard of glass. She pulled her hand up to look at it, eyes blinking rapidly as she took in the medium-sized piece of glass sticking out from her palm, slow rivulets of blood beginning to come down to her wrist.

“Skye,” she murmured, voice gentle and quiet. She didn’t want to panic Fitz. “Look.”

timetravelingclara‌:

brxkcnengineer‌:

Both Mr and Mrs Simmons were standing in the doorway, listening with heavy hearts as they heard their daughter speak. Skye. Tell me he’s okay. Tell me - tell me he’s alive. They both knew all of the difficulties that they’d had, about Fitz’s coma, his brain injury, the struggles that the pair of them had.

Skye was quiet as Jemma cut her off. “He’s alive,” she told her. “He’s in surgery, they med-evaced him to some SHIELD medical facility. We’re waiting on an update. All – all I know for sure is he’s.. some broken bones, um… punctured lung, and there – the SHIELD medics said there was a possibility of head trauma, but it’s really bad, Jemma.”

Jemma’s parents watched, listening as her daughter finished talking, hanging up the phone, starting to cry, but clearly trying to keep from BREAKING DOWN.

“Jemma, love,” her father started, stepping forwards, a gentle hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder. “Jemma, what’s happened?”

Broken bones. A punctured lung. Head trauma. It was almost too much to imagine. Hadn’t they been through enough? Hadn’t Fitz been through enough? He didn’t deserve this life, the one full of struggle and pain and injury, yet that was all the universe kept throwing at him.

When Skye finished giving her all the information she had Jemma hung up, the phone still in her shaking hand. She felt that she was crying — she didn’t know when that had happened — and suddenly it felt like she might never stop. Her father put his hand on her shoulder and she crumbled, turning into him and crying.

Eventually she managed to compose herself and explain. She’d have to cut her trip short, she said, and her parents agreed. When May showed up to collect her, her mother helped her slip on her coat, pulling her into a hug. “When Fitz wakes up, tell him we can’t wait for our first family dinner,” She’d said. Jemma had cried again.

Jemma was silent the entire flight. She had questions, she was practically bursting with them, but she couldn’t seem to make her voice work. It didn’t matter. She’d get them all in the end.

When May landed the Quinjet, in an empty field a few miles from Jemma’s childhood home, she was quiet (as usual) and apologetic. Trip took her suitcase, sat beside her through the whole flight, trying to be of some comfort.

Landing back at the medical facility, Skye was the first person to embrace Jemma, hugging her tightly, apologizing quietly in her ear. Bobbi and Hunter both came up to her, trying to help. It felt like years had gone by before Coulson came up to talk with Jemma.

“He’s alive,” he started, watching the whole team breath out in relief. “He’s unconscious, but he’s stable. He’s banged up, looks a little rough, but he’s alive, Jemma. He’ll be okay.” He gave her a weak smile. “You can come and see him, whenever you’re ready, okay?”

Everything went by in a haze. She was aware of Trip sitting with her on the flight, of Skye hugging her when they landed, and of the fact that she’d cried quietly into Skye’s shoulder. She was aware of Bobbi’s gentle touch and Hunter’s stammered attempts to make her feel better, but none of it felt real. It all felt like a dream.

Finally, after what felt like ages, Coulson came to speak to her. She felt herself breathe a sigh of relief at hearing that Fitz was alive, even though Skye had told her as much on the phone. She didn’t care what Fitz looked like. She’d seen him worse before, bleeding out on the floor of a Hydra base.

When Coulson offered to let her see him she nodded, unsure if she could use her words without breaking down. She followed him back further into the facility, down winding hallways and into what could have passed as hospital room. Coulson settled her into a chair by Fitz’s bedside and she reached for his hand, fingers curling around his palm as she held on tight.

She could feel Coulson hovering in the doorway, waiting to make sure she’d be okay on her own before leaving. She didn’t know if she would be. “What happened?” She finally managed to croak out.

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With Jemma away for a few days, Fitz had kept himself busy in his work, counting down the moments until she would call him at night, and they’d talk to each other until they both fell asleep. It wouldn’t even be a full week, but he still missed her.

After three days, it was just about halfway through the week where Jemma would be away from the base. He was meant to call her after he had finished his work… he just never got the chance to before the lab, their lab, EXPLODED.

It was Skye that called instead. The biochemist answered cheerily and it broke Skye’s heart to know that she was just calling with bad news.

“Jemma,” she started, doing her best to keep her voice from shaking. “Jemma, it’s Fitz. You… you need to get back to the base. The…” She took a breath. “The lab exploded and… you-you need to get back here. May can come and get you, she’ll… be there within the hour to get you and bring you back, just… It’s bad, Jemma. Really bad.”

The minute Skye said her name Jemma knew something was terribly wrong. She sat up straighter in her chair, abandoning her mug of tea as she waited for Skye to talk.

“Jemma, it’s Fitz.”

It felt like her heart stopped. Her head swum and she could feel the color drain from her face, her mother giving her an inquisitive look from across the kitchen. “What happened?” She whispered.

The more Skye said, the more Jemma felt like she was going to cry. The lab had exploded. It was bad. Skye didn’t say if Fitz had been inside the lab, but she had said that something had happened to him. Logically Jemma knew he must have been inside. It felt like she couldn’t breathe.

She nodded and nodded as Skye told her that May was on the way, standing and making her way blindly back to her room while she talked. “Skye,” she said finally, cutting off the hacker. “Tell me he’s okay. Tell me - tell me he’s alive.” She could feel her mother hovering in the doorway with worry, see her bring up a hand to cover her mouth when she heard Jemma’s question, but it didn’t matter. Frantic hands pulled her clothes off the bed and shoved them into her suitcase as she moved about the room like a hurricane. If she stopped, if she thought about it, she’d break down. That couldn’t happen yet.

Finally (although it had really only been a few minutes), Jemma zipped up her suitcase. “I’ll be waiting for May.”

Both Mr and Mrs Simmons were standing in the doorway, listening with heavy hearts as they heard their daughter speak. Skye. Tell me he’s okay. Tell me - tell me he’s alive. They both knew all of the difficulties that they’d had, about Fitz’s coma, his brain injury, the struggles that the pair of them had.

Skye was quiet as Jemma cut her off. “He’s alive,” she told her. “He’s in surgery, they med-evaced him to some SHIELD medical facility. We’re waiting on an update. All – all I know for sure is he’s.. some broken bones, um… punctured lung, and there – the SHIELD medics said there was a possibility of head trauma, but it’s really bad, Jemma.”

Jemma’s parents watched, listening as her daughter finished talking, hanging up the phone, starting to cry, but clearly trying to keep from BREAKING DOWN.

“Jemma, love,” her father started, stepping forwards, a gentle hand resting on his daughter’s shoulder. “Jemma, what’s happened?”

Broken bones. A punctured lung. Head trauma. It was almost too much to imagine. Hadn’t they been through enough? Hadn’t Fitz been through enough? He didn’t deserve this life, the one full of struggle and pain and injury, yet that was all the universe kept throwing at him.

When Skye finished giving her all the information she had Jemma hung up, the phone still in her shaking hand. She felt that she was crying — she didn’t know when that had happened — and suddenly it felt like she might never stop. Her father put his hand on her shoulder and she crumbled, turning into him and crying.

Eventually she managed to compose herself and explain. She’d have to cut her trip short, she said, and her parents agreed. When May showed up to collect her, her mother helped her slip on her coat, pulling her into a hug. “When Fitz wakes up, tell him we can’t wait for our first family dinner,” She’d said. Jemma had cried again.

Jemma was silent the entire flight. She had questions, she was practically bursting with them, but she couldn’t seem to make her voice work. It didn’t matter. She’d get them all in the end.

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“Everythin’ an’ more,” he hummed, nodding at her question. It wasn’t a surprise to him, they were meant to be together, and nothing could ever change that.

He propped himself up on his elbow, leaning back against the pillows so that he could see her and talk to her properly. He laughed a little when she spoke about her dad, saying he’d be much more amenable.

“Think I’ll invest in a helmet just in case,” he joked, shaking his head. “He seemed happy with me when I spoke t’him over the phone, but just in case he’s changed his mind about givin’ me his blessin’ or somethin’.”

Jemma shifted back to her pillow as Fitz moved, assuming he wanted to see her as they talked. She liked being close to him, though, so she reached for his hand, twining their fingers together as he talked. Underneath the covers their legs were still tangled together, his skin warming her despite the thin sheet over them.

So he’d asked her father for permission. A part of her was relieved — though not that he’d asked. Her father had always been protective, and she’d never known exactly what he thought of Fitz. To hear that he’d seemed happy when Fitz had asked for her hand was a good sign, and a step in the right direction. She smiled sleepily at him from her spot on the pillow. “Even if he does, I’ve already said yes. It’s out of his hands now.”

She surged closer once again, pressing her body against his side and draping an arm over his waist. “I love you, Fitz,” she hummer, voice heavy with sleep. The warmth of his body and the sound of his heartbeat lulled her to sleep.

That night, she dreamed about weddings.

————————

When Jemma’s first day off rolled around, Fitz had helped her pack. He’d insisted that she needed to take thing she didn’t need, resulting in a playful argument culminating in Jemma throwing a dress at his head and Fitz kissing her under it before they both dissolved into giggles.

Skye had rolled her eyes playfully as they kissed in the front hall of the base before parting, Jemma’s hand lingering in Fitz’s slightly longer than it needed to. She’d promised to call when she arrived safely and Fitz had promised to answer.

The first day with her parents went off without a hitch. Her mother was ecstatic to see the ring and her father seemed pleased, even commenting that ‘that young man knows how to pick a future family heirloom’. Jemma hoped he was right. She called Fitz that evening and told him he was still in her father’s good graces, no helmets necessary.

The second day, too, passed without any troubles. Jemma saw some other family members and discussed preliminary wedding dates with her mother, who somehow seemed more excited than Jemma was. “I remember this feeling,” she’d told her daughter. “I remember feeling like the world was mine after you father proposed. I think you and Fitz will feel that forever.” Jemma thought so, too.

Day three was shaping up to be normal, too. Jemma has taken her mother out to breakfast and visited some old school friends, catching up and meeting new spouses and children. She’d taken a walk through her favorite park and had just settled in at home with a cup of tea when the phone rang.

Skye.

Jemma answered with a smile. “What, do you miss me already?”

With Jemma away for a few days, Fitz had kept himself busy in his work, counting down the moments until she would call him at night, and they’d talk to each other until they both fell asleep. It wouldn’t even be a full week, but he still missed her.

After three days, it was just about halfway through the week where Jemma would be away from the base. He was meant to call her after he had finished his work… he just never got the chance to before the lab, their lab, EXPLODED.

It was Skye that called instead. The biochemist answered cheerily and it broke Skye’s heart to know that she was just calling with bad news.

“Jemma,” she started, doing her best to keep her voice from shaking. “Jemma, it’s Fitz. You… you need to get back to the base. The…” She took a breath. “The lab exploded and… you-you need to get back here. May can come and get you, she’ll… be there within the hour to get you and bring you back, just… It’s bad, Jemma. Really bad.”