Agents of SHIELD fic: Feel the Tide (1/1)
Title: Feel the Tide
Disclaimer: I do not own Agents of SHIELD.
A/N: Yeah, I was not prepared for the first episode of S2 at all. I thought I was, but then I completely wasn’t. Fitz was breaking my heart the entire episode but then that ending… I wrote this as a coping mechanism. Beta thanks to lena7142. Title with apologies to Mumford and Sons.
Summary: Jemma knows what she has to do.
-o-
It’s hard to admit, but it’s also impossible to deny.
Fitz isn’t getting better.
His motor functions have evened out at an acceptable level, but his cognitive skills have plateaued. His speech functions are still badly impaired, and his memory center is still showing signs of damage.
Jemma knows how these things are treated. She knows the nuances of the therapy, and she knows how important it is. Fitz has to struggle and make mistakes. He has to work hard and come up with the answers on his own.
But watching him, Jemma can’t sit idle. When he’s looking for the word, she supplies it. When his pace staggers, she catches him. She knows what he’s trying to do, and she’s been finishing his sentences for the better part of the last five years. Two halves of one whole; this is what they’ve always done. This is who they’ve always been.
Except the balance is gone. It’s more Simmons than Fitz now, and that’s not going to help him. It’s going to keep him where he’s at, which is no place at all. The more she does for him, the less likely it is Fitz will ever do it for himself. Fitz needs to stand on his own two feet, and Jemma’s just a crutch.
Which is why she knows what she has to do.
It’s the same reason Fitz gave her all the oxygen at the bottom of the ocean.
You’re my best friend in the whole world.
Fitz might hate her for this; Fitz might never forgive her. Worse still, he may never understand why she left, why he has to do this one on his own.
But that’s what it’s like to drown. That’s what it’s like to pull yourself up even when the water pours in around you. It’s the worst feeling in the world, to want to breathe when there’s no oxygen left, but it’s the only thing that makes you fight harder.
And he has to fight. Jemma needs him to fight, because this time, she can’t do it for him.
It’s a long way to the surface, but Jemma has to think there’s still a glimmer of light.
From the bottom of the ocean, from the lowest point they’ll ever know.
There still has to be a hope -- for both of them.
It was the other way around.
At his bedside, she kisses him gently while he sleeps, putting a hand on his shoulder. He stirs, but doesn’t wake, and she smiles so wide it hurts.
She wants to stay like that forever, but the pressure in her chest is too much. She blinks back the tears, and squeezes his shoulder one last time.
“Fitz,” she says, voice catching as she takes one last breath and can’t stop the tears from rushing down her face. “You’re more than that.”
Disclaimer: I do not own Agents of SHIELD.
A/N: Yeah, I was not prepared for the first episode of S2 at all. I thought I was, but then I completely wasn’t. Fitz was breaking my heart the entire episode but then that ending… I wrote this as a coping mechanism. Beta thanks to lena7142. Title with apologies to Mumford and Sons.
Summary: Jemma knows what she has to do.
-o-
It’s hard to admit, but it’s also impossible to deny.
Fitz isn’t getting better.
His motor functions have evened out at an acceptable level, but his cognitive skills have plateaued. His speech functions are still badly impaired, and his memory center is still showing signs of damage.
Jemma knows how these things are treated. She knows the nuances of the therapy, and she knows how important it is. Fitz has to struggle and make mistakes. He has to work hard and come up with the answers on his own.
But watching him, Jemma can’t sit idle. When he’s looking for the word, she supplies it. When his pace staggers, she catches him. She knows what he’s trying to do, and she’s been finishing his sentences for the better part of the last five years. Two halves of one whole; this is what they’ve always done. This is who they’ve always been.
Except the balance is gone. It’s more Simmons than Fitz now, and that’s not going to help him. It’s going to keep him where he’s at, which is no place at all. The more she does for him, the less likely it is Fitz will ever do it for himself. Fitz needs to stand on his own two feet, and Jemma’s just a crutch.
Which is why she knows what she has to do.
It’s the same reason Fitz gave her all the oxygen at the bottom of the ocean.
You’re my best friend in the whole world.
Fitz might hate her for this; Fitz might never forgive her. Worse still, he may never understand why she left, why he has to do this one on his own.
But that’s what it’s like to drown. That’s what it’s like to pull yourself up even when the water pours in around you. It’s the worst feeling in the world, to want to breathe when there’s no oxygen left, but it’s the only thing that makes you fight harder.
And he has to fight. Jemma needs him to fight, because this time, she can’t do it for him.
It’s a long way to the surface, but Jemma has to think there’s still a glimmer of light.
From the bottom of the ocean, from the lowest point they’ll ever know.
There still has to be a hope -- for both of them.
It was the other way around.
At his bedside, she kisses him gently while he sleeps, putting a hand on his shoulder. He stirs, but doesn’t wake, and she smiles so wide it hurts.
She wants to stay like that forever, but the pressure in her chest is too much. She blinks back the tears, and squeezes his shoulder one last time.
“Fitz,” she says, voice catching as she takes one last breath and can’t stop the tears from rushing down her face. “You’re more than that.”