[ the worst part of this all is that even jemma doesn't really know what is scaring her. the feeling of fear she can pinpoint, understanding how her body copes with that, how the brain adapts to be used to it. she can recognize it in the way she quiets, in the tension in her shoulders. will had warned her about a few of the symptoms, that you have to know how your body is trying to cope to either work through the fear to face it. she would not beat it, could not beat it, but she could handle it.
and she knows it's not the link that helps, but fitz. fitz, just being here, even if the space between them feels like it is growing with each second. each moment.
( she has noticed, in that subconscious kind of way that she knows him. how he carries himself a bit different, how his face is shaped, the crook of his smile. she knows she's been gone, she knows things would change, but what is scaring her the most of it all is how far they are from each other. how different. )
it's not fair. it's not fair that all he has to say are those four words and some of that terror eases away. because it wasn't that she thought he would stop, though with every belief has to come a negligible amount of doubt - rather, she didn't know if it would work. if they would be back. she remembers the nights of desperation, the nights of devastation, the nights of loss - but she hadn't stopped hoping. hadn't stopped trying to find a way. it's why she'd moved, jumped on the possibility, even in their hour of sunlight. it's why she ran for him, why will-
fitz chokes. a couple walks by. jemma is ripped just short of violent from her thoughts. his hand moves to the crook of her elbow and she feels the urge, the need to pull her arm just far enough away that his hand will find her's. but is that fair, now? with the link? with the ability to know? so she holds it back, hesitates mid movement.
( why is this so hard ) ]
I. [ her voice is rough, not pained, necessarily, but close. ] I don't- [ her gaze moves again, meeting his eyes then averting, trying to find something to keep her thoughts together. she doesn't know, but that isn't an answer for a scientist. it's not an answer for fitz. and after a moment of searching, her free hand lifts to press fingers into her forehead, her eyes held tightly shut. ]
We were supposed to get dinner. [ despite the near-whisper of her voice, it cracks over the last word. ] And then- I went through some kind of portal. And the planet I ended up on was off. Different. Gravity, the rotation around its sun, made of sand and little water and there was something hunting me, and- [ i thought you were with me. i thought you would follow me.
she can't say it, so she doesn't, closing her mouth and breathing, swallowing back anything else she almost says. at least for a moment. before she either forgets or doesn't care about why she shouldn't and she does pull back her arm, sliding her hand into his to squeeze, feeling it rush back again. and whether it's the link, or it's just fitz, jemma needs the reminder that he's there.
because he is. because he didn't stop looking for her. ]
no subject
and she knows it's not the link that helps, but fitz. fitz, just being here, even if the space between them feels like it is growing with each second. each moment.
( she has noticed, in that subconscious kind of way that she knows him. how he carries himself a bit different, how his face is shaped, the crook of his smile. she knows she's been gone, she knows things would change, but what is scaring her the most of it all is how far they are from each other. how different. )
it's not fair. it's not fair that all he has to say are those four words and some of that terror eases away. because it wasn't that she thought he would stop, though with every belief has to come a negligible amount of doubt - rather, she didn't know if it would work. if they would be back. she remembers the nights of desperation, the nights of devastation, the nights of loss - but she hadn't stopped hoping. hadn't stopped trying to find a way. it's why she'd moved, jumped on the possibility, even in their hour of sunlight. it's why she ran for him, why will-
fitz chokes. a couple walks by. jemma is ripped just short of violent from her thoughts. his hand moves to the crook of her elbow and she feels the urge, the need to pull her arm just far enough away that his hand will find her's. but is that fair, now? with the link? with the ability to know? so she holds it back, hesitates mid movement.
( why is this so hard ) ]
I. [ her voice is rough, not pained, necessarily, but close. ] I don't- [ her gaze moves again, meeting his eyes then averting, trying to find something to keep her thoughts together. she doesn't know, but that isn't an answer for a scientist. it's not an answer for fitz. and after a moment of searching, her free hand lifts to press fingers into her forehead, her eyes held tightly shut. ]
We were supposed to get dinner. [ despite the near-whisper of her voice, it cracks over the last word. ] And then- I went through some kind of portal. And the planet I ended up on was off. Different. Gravity, the rotation around its sun, made of sand and little water and there was something hunting me, and- [ i thought you were with me. i thought you would follow me.
she can't say it, so she doesn't, closing her mouth and breathing, swallowing back anything else she almost says. at least for a moment. before she either forgets or doesn't care about why she shouldn't and she does pull back her arm, sliding her hand into his to squeeze, feeling it rush back again. and whether it's the link, or it's just fitz, jemma needs the reminder that he's there.
because he is. because he didn't stop looking for her. ]
And then you found me.