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“It’s just a flesh would, Jemma.” Fitz let out a hiss of pain, as Jemma touched the splat shaped mark on his neck with a cotton ball.
Jemma bit down on her tongue, trying her hardest to keep from spouting ungrateful words at her friend.
Fitz squirmed uncomfortably, whether it was due to her trying to clean his wound or from the awkward silence that passed between them.
Either way, the silence was more than either of them could stand at this moment.
“Just a flesh wound?” She repeated, her accent coming out in a harsh tone, “An accident that, oh I don’t know, could just have gotten you severely injured or-” her voice trailed off, her words getting caught in her throat.
Killed, that’s what it could have gotten him.
Here she was a good deal away from him, worrying about defending her own precious life when he was out on the front lines, risking his neck for the greater good of humanity.
Releasing a huff of irritated air, she turned away from Fitz hastily, ripping off her gloves and slamming them down on the lab table.
“I’m angry that you did not call me, I could have helped you! I mean, what if you had died? What if that phone call had been our last few moments? What if-”
“Jemma.”
Her body froze the instant she heard his voice, her heart skipping a beat at the tone it carried.
She heard it before, not that long ago when they stood above the entrance for Maveth. There was no guarantee that he would return safely, but she was positive that he would.
This was Fitz, her best friend, her partner, her..
She sucked in a shaky breath, turning slowly to face him.
He gave her that look, the one that filled her stomach with butterflies. His bright blue eyes had this soft, knowing look to them, his lips were pressed in a thin line.
He saw completely through her.
“The wound isn’t bothering you,” he pointed out, “So what is?”
It was this question alone that caused the person he knew all too well, to crumble before him.
A shaking hand pressed itself to her lips, as the tears she had been holding since her conversation with May were starting to well up within her eyes.
This went beyond Fitz nearly dying again, beyond feeling ashamed and guilty for Lash, for Will, for everything that ever took place while she was under the title of “Agent”, this was all deeply rooted somewhere, and in something else.
And now she could no longer keep it locked within.
“There’s a flesh wound on my heart, Fitz.” she lowered her hand, the first couple tears escaping her eyes. “Hell, this isn’t even a flesh wound. Fitz, this wound is deep and I-every time something happens, the wound opens even more.”
Fitz’s eyes softened, causing a heavy sob to escape her lips as she leaned herself against the lab table for support: “Truth is it never heals, not before something is stabbing itself back into the same spot, the same wound, and leaving me a bloody mess on the floor.” She raised her hands, her vision becoming blurred by the tears that burned her cheeks.
“Fitz, there is blood on my hands! Stains I can’t remove no matter how hard I try! Will’s blood, those poor Inhumans blood, YOUR blood!”
“Stop, Jemma, stop.” Fitz pushed himself off the stool, stopping just several inches from her.
Memories surfaced back to a little while earlier, back to when that kiss took place. It happened in this very lab, in the very place they stood.
No here she was again, back pressed firmly to the table with him only a short distance away. Only difference was the tears in her eyes and the fact that they were just the opposite of what she wanted, what she knew that he wanted.
“I can’t do this,” she finally breathed, after moments of listening to his soothing breath.
Fitz lowered his head, his posture stiff as if her were preparing himself for another heated argument.
“Jemma, I already told you-”
“ NO, Fitz! I can’t be your friend!”
This stopped him right in his tracks, leaving him frozen right in his very spot. Did this mean that she was done with him as a whole?
He botched all chances of getting to be something more with her, that he could live with, but losing her friendship?
He would have rather blown to a million bits tonight.
“Jemma,” he panicked, his hands reaching for her before he stepped back.
“Whatever I have done, I am sorry. I didn’t mean to-”
“No, you fool!” She hissed through her teeth, her nails digging into her palm, “I can’t be your friend because I don’t want to be your friend, I want you!”
As if to prove her point, before even giving him so much as a chance to respond to her statement, she threw herself forward and directly before him.
Memories of their first kiss flooded her mind, as she brought her arms around his neck and his face to hers.
Her lips met his instantly, her head spinning from the quick outcome of this whole entire situation. He himself did not hesitate to return her kiss, the taste of her salty tears were on his tongue, the slight sensation of her fingers were brushing against his wound.
Oh, but neither of them cared, they didn’t give a damn.
Both of them got what they wanted, after dancing and walking on eggshells around one another, they finally got what they both wanted.
As Fitz placed his hands around her waist, allowing the kiss to deepen, Jemma felt the wounds from every poor decision, past mistakes and regrets begin to close shut, healing her heart once again.