Fitzsimmons

Space

Quick Note: I'll be uploading the second one promised tomorrow. This series will have three more chapters if everything works out correctly. This one is pretty dramatic, and there is some blood/needle stuff, so if that's a trigger for you, stay safe.

PS: NEW COVER BY THE AMAZING pennyandpaper

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Jemma decided she should've caught on to the true intentions of the Kree experimentation a month ago, before she was hooked up to a hastily built life support machine, with pints of her blood missing. They started her out easy. When she couldn't answer any more questions about human culture and biology (which took a month, at least), Bob had asked for a blood sample. Then another. As her generous meals and rest time decreased, the amount of blood removal increased daily. Soon Jemma found herself dizzy and unable to stand, much less walk, after the needles were removed from her pale, grimy skin.

She had taught them how to take blood. She had taught them the exact amount of pain humans could stand before losing consciousness, and the exact measure of blood cells needed to sustain life. And they had used it all against her in a matter of days.

They kept her alive, of course. A dead specimen is essentially a failed experiment. Jemma was reminded of all those mice she'd tested on during the Chitauri virus. The way they had squeaked helplessly, immersed fully in their staticky float before their bellies turned up and they died. Jemma felt a lot like one of those mice. Sitting helplessly, watching her life slowly drain away.

She also felt as though science had betrayed her, in a way. She was researching the Kree as they were beginning experiments on her, trying to form an alliance with their kind for technological advancement. She wasn't being invasive or destructive. She was following every experimental procedure accurately and respectfully. It shouldn't have turned out like this. Science had promised peace and prosperity. Why was she fighting for life because of it?

Jemma thought about science a lot. She also thought about Fitz a lot. Where was he? Did he know she was gone? Was he trying to get her back? Did he miss her as much as she missed him? Would they finally get dinner when Jemma came back?

Jemma stopped herself when she started thinking about the future. She wasn't guaranteed a future. She shouldn't plan for one.

But kissing Fitz was just a daydream, right? She thought about his lips a lot. And his hands steady on her hips and his blue eyes disappearing behind eyelids as he leaned in. His nose rubbing hers accidentally, and they'd both laugh breathlessly. Anticipation welling in her stomach until finally his mouth was on hers, fitting together like two puzzle pieces.

That daydream probably kept her alive.

"What is Leo?" Bob asked one day upon entering the lab. The bright lights flashed on overhead, but Jemma's head dropped towards the cement floor, so she didn't notice a difference. However, hearing his name from her captor's mouth made what little blood she had left boil.

"Don't say his name," she spit, though it came out rather weak. Soon she felt slimy hands on the sides of her face, and Bob pulled her head up and slid a bar under he chin to hold it there.

"You mutter it in your sleep. Why?"

Jemma started to feel embarrassed before she remembered his betrayal. She tugged at the tubes in her wrists furiously and grinding her teeth. "What, the Kree can't read my thoughts? I thought you were the technologically superior species."

"Oh no, we can. We've been reading your thoughts this entire time. The Kree simply don't understand certain aspects of human behavior. Which is why we need you. Tell me about Leo."

"Piss off."

A sharp blade passed over her palm, and Jemma was too shocked to react. Bob hadn't warned her, and the sight of her own blood seeping through the creases in her hand triggered the pain aspect. She clenched her jaw shut in defiance. What had Bobbi told her about withstanding pain? She had to find a way out.

"I know it hurts, Jemma."

"Don't call me that," she managed as she squeezed her hand shut, feeling cut leak even more. A drop landed on the toe of her shoe.

"Are you ready to cooperate now?" He sounded inquisitive, unaffected by the fact that he was now torturing information out of her.

"Never."

The blade crossed her face now, from her hairline to her eyebrow. A half inch further and it would've hit an optic nerve. Jemma shut her eyes tight as the blood oozed over them. Both cuts were fixable, but she knew a third would result in bleeding out. Bob stood in front of her, wiping at her forehead and applying gauze to the gash.

"Cut me again and I'll die." She spoke in a tone she'd never heard before. It wasn't threatening or warning. It was the convicted tone of a scientist, as if her body was viewed as an experiment even by herself now.

She couldn't let them happen. Heaving a deep breath, she closed her hands around the tubes in her veins and pulled, hard. They slid out of her arms, speckling her papery skin with red, but she was too busy pulling the bar out from under her chin to notice.

Jemma raised the bar above her head and jabbed it down as forcefully as she could manage in her drained state. It lodged in Bob's cranium with a wet thud, and she fell forward from the momentum, pushing him to the floor. His eyes were still open, but his body had gone limp, and Jemma pushed herself up, getting blue mucus all over herself in the process.

After taking her eyes off of the dead body, Jemma crossed the lab to the supply cabinet and swung the door open, leaving splotches of maroon on the glass from the holes in her wrists. She had only a few moments left of consciousness, so she grabbed a roll of bandages and a long metal bar, then limped her way to the lab door.

She managed to wrap her hands quickly as she walked, but she felt too faint to wrap her head. Only three feet away from the door, she collapsed, fighting the blackness ringing her vision. One final burst of energy would do it.

She allowed herself to think of Fitz, relying on the rush of dopamine to push her through.

I love Leo Fitz.

Jemma pushed up on her good hand, stretched her other arm out, and saw the bar slide through the door handles before blackness clouded her vision and she lost consciousness.