Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D- My version

by cloey2023

Summary:

So Agents of SHIELD is currently one of my favorite shows, but i have a few things that i want to say. I needed more queer characters and more disability rep. We get some amputee rep but they all get super fancy prostetics that basically can do everything and more that the old limp could do. So i created a few Original characters. I know Original character stories don´t do so well, but i wrote it, so i might aswell post it. This takes me back to my roots. When i first started writing fanfiction, i wrote stories with characters that i wanted to play. I´m an actress and i really wanted to be in my favorite shows, so i made up characters, that i could play.
So Isla Stacy is my OC that i could play now. She is disabled queer and a badass SHIELD Agent.
Kate Petrova (You will get to know her in later chapters) is my OC that i would have been able to play before i became disabled. She is a dancer and it shows in her fighting style, she is queer and a badass SHIELD Agent.

Notes:

An: This is the first Chapter to introduce my Original Character Isla Stacy. I created her because i wanted a character with a physical disability. In Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. they have physicaly disabled people. Like Coulson and Yoyo as amputees and Fitz with the Brain injury But i wanted someone with complex chronic illness and physical disability. I wanted someone that is in a wheelchair that needs assistance and is still a badass Agent. And i wanted a openly queer main character. (I still believe Jemma had a crush on Bobbi in season 2 when the came back from Hydra, but i love her and Fitz so it's okay they didn't go through with that.) That is how i created Isla Stacy.

Isla Stacy is a medical doctor and a biologist and a Level 5 Shield Agent. She was not on the Bus, but working at a SHIELD hospital as a resident. Jemma Simmons is her SO. I always found it weird that Jemma is not a medical doctor, but somehow has all the knowledge, i know she is insanely smart and stuff, but yeah. Something Garett said about how a trainee learns from their SO but the SO also learns from the trainee got me thinking what if Jemma actually learned all or some of it from Isla. I have a few ideas how her story maps out with Hydra and the Inhumans and everything. I'm not going to spoil it now.

The way i will post this is though oneshots from different times in the show. It will not be chronological at all, but if you need some knowledge before reading the Story, i will start with a kind of Previously on Marvels Agents of SHIELD.

What you need to know now.

She was born 1993, which makes her 21 in 2014, when Hydra took over. She is german. Her mother raised her alone. Her grandfather is irish, that is where she got the name from, but both her and her mom lived in germany their entire lives.

She got sick when she was 11 and has been in a wheelchair ever since, but she has some movement left. She can stand with assistance and take a few slow steps, also with assistance. But mostly she uses a wheelchair.

She finished school at 14 and started medical school. She applies for a special scholarship and is taken. She goes to America at age 16 and finished Medical school and a PhD in Biology there. She started her residency at 18 and is now almost done at 21. Her specialty is Trauma medicine. Medical school is where she met Jemma and Fitz. Jemma takes a liking to the girl and becomes her SO, while she is working at SciOps. (I don't know how old Jemma actually is, but for this story she was born 1985 making her 24 when she became Islas SO and 29 in 2014.)

That is all.

Chapter 1

Jemma Simmons stood at the threshold of the Playground, her heart thudding quietly in her chest. The metallic tang of the underground base clung to the recycled air—coper and antiseptic, filtered through years of secrets and science. It hadn't changed, not in any visible way, and yet it felt alien. Like everything since Hydra.

She tugged her S.H.I.E.L.D. jacket closer around her shoulders, as the doors whooshed open. She was glad to change out of the outfit she had worn at Hydra. It wasn't any different from the clothes she usually wore, but for some reason it felt uncomftable. Coulson's voice echoed somewhere down the hall, and Fitz was... coping. She had seen him but they hadn't talked about what had happend at the bottom of the ocean. There would be time for that later. For now, she had someone else to see.

Someone she hadn't allowed herself to think about while embedded inside Hydra's lair, hiding behind false allegiances and sterile corridors. Coulson had told her, that they had gotten her out alive, but she had not been able to actually see her before she left for her mission.

Isla Stacy.

Jemma's footsteps were soft but purposeful as she made her way through the dim halls toward Lab 3. Isla had taken it over—modified the height of the benches, installed a custom interface for her wheelchair. Jemma hesitated before knocking, her hand resting briefly on the worn frame of the door.

Inside, music played softly—something instrumental, maybe Tschaikowsky, or a variant Isla had coded herself. Jemma peeked in.

Isla sat hunched at her desk, sleeves pushed up past her elbows, her straight brown hair caught in a messy bun. A tablet blinked gently beside her, lines of patient scans and genome sequences fluttering past her exhausted eyes. Even from here, Jemma could see how pale she looked, the light flush on her cheeks not quite matching her usual coloring

And the tremor in her fingers—barely perceptible, but there.

"Hey, trouble," Jemma said softly.

Isla's head jerked up. Her eyes widened, and for a moment, the guarded woman Jemma remembered melted into a stunned, vulnerable girl.

"Jemma?"

Before Jemma could respond, Isla was wheeling toward her, fast despite the controlled movement. The chair stopped just inches away, and Isla looked up at her with watery eyes and a disbelieving smile.

"You're back," she whispered.

Jemma opened her arms, and Isla all but collapsed into her. Her frame was thinner than Jemma remembered—her shoulders sharper, her back tense, her breathing too quick. But she held on tight, fiercely, as if Jemma might vanish again if she blinked.

"I didn't think I'd get to see you again," Isla murmured.

"I didn't either," Jemma admitted, brushing her hand gently down Isla's back. "But I'm here now."

When they finally pulled apart, Isla rolled back a few inches, blinking the wetness from her lashes and laughing shakily. "God, I look like a wreck. You—you're the one who infiltrated Hydra. I should be comforting you."

"You're allowed to cry," Jemma said softly. "Hydra tor S.H.I.E.L.D. apart from the inside, but it tore us all apart on the inside, too. I heard about your mom."

They sat together—Isla pulling a chair closer for Jemma while she adjusted her footplate. For a long moment, neither spoke. It was enough just to be near each other again.

"They just killed her to draw me out, Jemma. It's my fault." "No, sweetheart. It's not. Hydra. They are cruel and they do not have and ounce of remorse, when taking a life. I'm so sorry about your mother, but it is not your fault."

Jemma studied Isla as they talked, her scientific brain cataloguing data even as her heart ached. Isla's voice was a touch hoarse. Her shoulders slumped forward as though even sitting upright took effort. The flush on her cheeks was real. And concerning.

"You look exhausted," Jemma finally said gently.

Isla gave a hollow laugh. "That's because I am."

She looked away. "When S.H.I.E.L.D. fell, everything fell apart. I was two months away from taking my boards. Two months. And then I was on the run. The hospital taken over —patients disappeared, colleagues scattered. I didn't know who to trust. Some Agents came, but i didn't know if they were Hydra or S.H.I.E.L.D., i can't just run away so i hid in my secret underground bunker for three days i didn't know who to trust, but then i was able to get a message out to Coulson and he replied. Some Agents came to get me. I was still terriefied. And then they told me my mom was dead and that i couldn't even go home to burry her."

Jemma reached over and covered Isla's hand with her own.

"I've been trying to keep working," Isla continud. "There are refugees, injured agents, people still trying to build something out of this wreckage. I've been doing teleconsults, pharmacological planning, labwork, surgery, Emergency medicine whatever they need."

"That sounds exhausting. Isla, you need to take a break." Jemma was insanely worried about her trainee.
"As your S.O. i should have checked in more." "We are literally the same level now. If that even means anything. And you've been undercover."

Isla smiled, but it was strained. Jemma tilted her head and looked at the young girl. She had matured so much. Jemma sometimes forgott she was only 21. But right now she looked much younger. She could tell Isla was holding it all in. "Isla, talk to me."

Islas voice cracked, and her eyes burned with unshed tears. She had never been able to lie to Jemma. "But I'm so tired, Jemma. I haven't really slept in days. My legs hurt. My spine's been killing me. I—I don't think I can keep this up. But they rely on me. If i'm not there people die."

Her shoulders began to shake, her face crumpling with the kind of pain that ran deeper than nerves or bone. The kind of pain you didn't treat with a prescription. Jemma pulled her chair next to Islas abd hugged her close. Isla put her head on Jemmas shoulder.

"I'm so tired," she whispered. "And I don't know how to stop. If I stop... I fell asleep and an agent came in. I wasn't there fast enough and he died... I don't know what to do."

Jemma moved closer, gently pulling Isla into her again. This time, Isla didn't hold back. She sobbed against Jemma's shoulder, every breath a jagged tear in the silence of the room.

"You're not alone," Jemma murmured. "You never were."

They stayed that way for a while. When Isla had cried herself quiet, Jemma brushed a strand of hair from her face. " You have a fever." She noticed putting the back of her hand on Islas forhead.
"I'd like to check you over, if you'll let me."

Isla sniffed and gave a tired nod. "Yeah. Okay."

Jemma moved quickly but calmly, retrieving a medical kit from the side shelf. Her hands were steady as ever, but her heart was not. She hated seeing Isla like this—fighting a war on two fronts: one for the world, and one within her own body.

She took Isla's temperature first—low-grade fever, just as she'd suspected. Then her pulse: slightly elevated. She noted shallow breathing, mild cyanosis in her fingertips.

"When was the last time you slept more than four hours?" Jemma asked, keeping her voice neutral.

"Four days ago?" Isla tried to joke. "Maybe five."

Jemma gave her a look, and Isla sighed.

"It's hard to sleep. Everything hurts more when I lie down. And my brain won't shut off."

"Your pain is worse lately?"

"Yeah. I've had a few flares before but nothing like this. It's everywhere. Joints, muscles, nerves. I'm stiff all the time. And the fatigue—god, it's like gravity doubled."

Jemma nodded slowly, cataloging every word.

"You're pushing yourself far past your threshold. Isla, your body's screaming for rest and you're not listening."

"I don't know how to stop," Isla whispered. "As i said. There are to little doctors. They need me."

"They do, but the will not have you much longer if you break down." Jemma said firmly. "You're not S.H.I.E.L.D.'s golden girl. You're Isla. You're brilliant, and kind, and resilient. And you're allowed to rest. I'll talk to Coulson."

"They wouldn't take me seriously anymore. It's already so hard. Because i'm young and disabled they always underestimate me and don't think i can do it." Isla coughed. "Maybe they are right."

"No. Noone works harder than you do. Anyone saying anything needs to shut up and look at themselves. Isla you are still allowed rest. You need it. And i'm here now. So i can take over at least labwork and i've gotten pretty good in Emergency medicine." Jemma smiled and handed Isla a tissue.

"I think if i take a break it'll a crash over me. It was so terrifying. I'm scared it'll drown me."

"Maybe for a while" Jemma said, softer this time. "Then you'll heal."

She sat back slightly and studied her patient. "Here's what we'll do. I'm going to put you on a rest protocol—three days minimum, supervised. I'll set up a makeshift medical suite in your bunk. We'll monitor your vitals, administer fluids, and adjust your pain meds. Then I'll help you build a longer-term management plan. One you can live with."

Isla's eyes widened. "You'd do that?"

"Of course," Jemma said, almost insulted. "I was your supervising officer, but I've also been your friend. You saved my life twice, remember?"

Isla gave a breathy laugh. "Yeah. Once with the hemophilia crisis, and once when you nearly blew up that centrifuge."

"I maintain that was Fitz's fault," Jemma said with a grin.

She touched Isla's shoulder gently. "Let me help now. Let me take care of you."

Isla blinked back a fresh wave of tears but nodded. "Okay."

Jemma stood and began getting the things to set up in Islas bunk, placing fresh linens, a pulse oximeter, and IV supplies in a box, to carry them over.

"You're not alone anymore," she said as she worked. "And you don't have to be strong every second. Let yourself be human."

Isla watched her with something like reverence and something like disbelief. "You always knew how to fix things."

"Not everything," Jemma said. "But I can try."

Later, when Isla was finally resting in her bed, an IV drip in place and a warm blanket tucked around her legs, Jemma sat nearby with a tablet in her lap and a vigil in her heart.

The world had fallen apart. Hydra had nearly won. And everything hasd changed.

But some things—like compassion, and friendship, and love—held strong.

Jemma would see to it that Isla had the future she deserved. Not the one torn away by fear, but the one she'd fought so hard to earn.