[ it's easy to just let it all go - now that fitz is here, now that fitz can handle it, she just. let's him. the part of her that has remained connected and objective keeps her aware of the fact they are moving, that fitz is walking her out of the crowd and away from the masses of people.
( jemma is so incredibly thankful for him. for this. there is nothing she needs to say and nothing she needs to explain and nothing, nothing, that he doesn't seem to get. maybe it has something to do with what they'd told her before, about the empathy link, about being able to touch and feel what others are feeling. but at the same time, she doesn't care. can't care. )
the comment does make her laugh, though - a kind of surprising bark of sound that pushes out of her chest, though it sounds and feels almost like a sob. of relief, of something else, she's not sure. but what it does do is pull her out of whatever haze she'd been in, her arms tightening around his middle, not quite ready to show the mess that her face must be at this point. ]
Your color coding is always off. I'm just going to have to redo it all.
[ whether it's just the sound of his voice, or the mention of things as banal and normal as tea and blankets and a lab, but piece by piece jemma can feel her chest fitting back together. it does take a few more breaths, a few more moments of simply listening to the sound of his heartbeat, his body in working order, the feeling of being here, having them both here, feeling whole. but after another few moments she does pull back - not far, just far enough to wipe at her cheeks and look up at him.
i'm never leaving you again.
jemma smiles at fitz, then. a soft, thankful kind of look as her eyes dart away before returning again just to look at him. he looks different, changed, but she can't really let herself be all that surprised. ]
How- [ a door slams, somewhere along the street. someone yells. it's nothing abnormal considering the size of the city, but it causes jemma to tense, to pull her attention, before bringing it back to him. to fitz. and she works on relaxing her shoulders again. ] how long have you been here?
no subject
( jemma is so incredibly thankful for him. for this. there is nothing she needs to say and nothing she needs to explain and nothing, nothing, that he doesn't seem to get. maybe it has something to do with what they'd told her before, about the empathy link, about being able to touch and feel what others are feeling. but at the same time, she doesn't care. can't care. )
the comment does make her laugh, though - a kind of surprising bark of sound that pushes out of her chest, though it sounds and feels almost like a sob. of relief, of something else, she's not sure. but what it does do is pull her out of whatever haze she'd been in, her arms tightening around his middle, not quite ready to show the mess that her face must be at this point. ]
Your color coding is always off. I'm just going to have to redo it all.
[ whether it's just the sound of his voice, or the mention of things as banal and normal as tea and blankets and a lab, but piece by piece jemma can feel her chest fitting back together. it does take a few more breaths, a few more moments of simply listening to the sound of his heartbeat, his body in working order, the feeling of being here, having them both here, feeling whole. but after another few moments she does pull back - not far, just far enough to wipe at her cheeks and look up at him.
i'm never leaving you again.
jemma smiles at fitz, then. a soft, thankful kind of look as her eyes dart away before returning again just to look at him. he looks different, changed, but she can't really let herself be all that surprised. ]
How- [ a door slams, somewhere along the street. someone yells. it's nothing abnormal considering the size of the city, but it causes jemma to tense, to pull her attention, before bringing it back to him. to fitz. and she works on relaxing her shoulders again. ] how long have you been here?