Chapter Text
“Why – why would you make me do this, you’re my best friend in the world!”
“Yeah, and you’re more than that, Jemma.”
He took a deep breath, and watched her face as it slowly sunk in. Her eyes widened, then creased, in shock, confusion, fear – not exactly the emotions he was going for, but then again, this was not exactly the confession he would have liked.
“And I couldn’t find the courage to tell you,” he continued, to fill the silence more than anything, but also to get it out, so that it was undeniable, so that she would know. They only had a few seconds left. “So please…let me show you.”
He looked back up, to a face he thought he had memorised years ago. Her cheeks were blotched with tears, her eyes shining and dark, her lips soft, but dropped in horror, unable to find the right words for whatever she wanted to say. When she breathed, it was sticky with tears, and Fitz wished he could have hugged them away, but they didn’t have time. Then she spoke, and he didn’t catch it, but he threw away his thoughts of timing and the universe for the moment. Nothing was more important than her words to him in that moment.
“What?” he barely mouthed it, afraid to hear them, though he had no idea if a confirmation or a rejection would be worse right now. He got neither.
“My arm,” she repeated. His heart sunk as she continued: “There’s no way I’d make it up – not pulling you too, and I’m not leaving you here. You’ll have to do it.”
He wanted to argue, oh how he would have loved to fight her on this, but he knew she was right and they didn’t have time to negotiate anyway. If they waited much longer, the charge would never ignite and this whole thing would be a waste, and they really would die down here. Both of them.
She put her hands on his, wrapping them tightly around the tiny canister that was to be their saving grace.
“But…” he mumbled, feeling how light it was as he looked at their hands. “But there’s only enough…”
“I won’t make it to the surface without you, Fitz. This is very noble and all, but there’s no point in the both of us drowning.”
She sniffed, to stop her voice breaking under the pressure. No, don’t cry, he wanted to tell her, as he looked back into her shining, insistent eyes. God, she was beautiful, even when she was crying, and why had he never told her all this before?
“Jemma-“ he began, only to have her cut him off.
“There’s no time, Fitz. You can do it. I trust you.
She smiled, and Fitz found himself mimicking her. On a silent, invisible cue, he turned and slammed his fist on the button for all he was worth.
The boom was an echo that deafened him. He grabbed Simmons’ sleeve on her good arm, and dove below the waterline. She fought alongside him for a couple of feet, propelling them as best she could, but with no air in her system, she soon turned into a drifting deadweight. His lungs ached as badly as his heart, counting the feet as they passed, feeling the one extra breath in his lungs, the breath he had given to Simmons, determined it would not be her last. He couldn’t fail. He must not.
When at last he did break free of the water, it was heaven and hell all at once. The sun was already hot where it shone down on him. Waves drowned his suffocating lungs as he gasped for breath. Salt bit at his eyes, nose, mouth, and all the raw cuts that decorated his skin. Simmons drifted, still, beside him.
“HELP!” he shouted to the sky, though salt water and sun were all but blinding him, and his voice was so hoarse it was hardly going to carry. “HELP!”
Then, by some absolute miracle, he heard propellers. He felt a hand wrap around his, and pull him upwards.
“This is Director Fury,” a voice said. “Doctor Fitz, you’re safe now. We’re taking you to Coulson. Your questions will be answered after you and Simmons have received medical attention.”
“Simmons…” He moaned as more hands, attached to white coats, took her from him. The propellers were starting to cause a roaring headache – or at least, adding to the one that was making his head spin from the pressure changes. His nose was bleeding. Excellent. Was he even standing upright?
“Fitz.”
He felt hands on his shoulders, and then nothing.