Set during 2x19 - "The Dirty Half Dozen", but contains minor spoilers/allusions to the finale (aka nothing that would wreck the plot for you), and allusions to my canon from my oneshot collection (Avengers/AOS crossover) "Birds of a Feather" (don't worry, it's not necessary to read that before this). Inspiration was also taken from "(I think that) I'm still human" by Shadows of a Dream (I highly recommend it!)
It wasn't hard for her to keep her façade up when they asked about Bakshi – everyone was busy and it wasn't as if the man had been trained in combat, which made it easy to bluff that he simply "hadn't made it out". Jemma fussed over Mike, even if she couldn't do anything else to help with her limited resources. Mike had been either asleep or pensive since asking about Ward, and he didn't ask her about what had happened.
The biochemist then moved over to Skye and the other man, Lincoln, to make sure he was alright. She tried to shutter her feelings away, to compartmentalize as she had done while undercover with HYDRA.
From a logical point of view, Jemma knew that it wasn't healthy to lock away her feelings and fears as she was doing. The healthier option would be sitting down and talking with someone – getting her feelings out in the open so she could think them through instead of them burning her from the inside out. But who had that kind of time in their present situation?
And who would understand her motivation?
Their team, the six- no, the five of them, had been through so much together, but they hadn't been on the plane with her and Fitz, they hadn't been in the pod when it had fallen in the sea or felt the water rushing in on all sides as they tried to swim to the surface while carrying the dead weight of their friend, their partner-
Jemma dropped the scanner she was holding, and Skye shot up from where she had dozed off on the chair next to Lincoln's cot. She blinked heavily and rubbed her eyes with her hands.
"Jemma?" she asked with a yawn. "What's up?"
"Just checking his vitals," Jemma said, not meeting Skye's eye. "I want to make sure he's stable, so I was scanning him for internal bleeding or other damage, but he looks fine, so I'll just-"
She scooted toward the door, suddenly feeling awkward, as though she was intruding.
"Oh," Skye said, yawning again. "He is going to be okay though, right?"
"Lincoln should be just fine," Jemma said with a nod and a tight-lipped smile. "Up and about in no time."
"But he hasn't woken up- shouldn't he have woken up by now?"
"You said his heart stopped?" Jemma asked. Skye simply nodded in response. "Cardiac arrest is always traumatic, Skye. And if they'd already experimented… We also found some unfamiliar chemicals in his bloodstream that seem to have sedative properties, so they could easily be at work, too. They appear to have given him a larger than usual dosage because they didn't know how fast his metabolism worked."
"So he'd just sedated?" Skye clarified, sending a concerned look at the man lying next to her. Jemma couldn't help but wonder just who this Lincoln was to her – Skye had been missing for less than a fortnight, surely she hadn't gotten to know anyone too well…
"It seems so," Jemma said, nodding and coming a bit closer. "But the trauma he experienced didn't help. And you restarted his heart with…"
"My powers," Skye supplied. Jemma nodded, her eyes closed, and took a deep breath.
"Yes. You restarted his heart with your powers, but, in all honesty, it probably was the largest shock to his system. I'm not sure how you did it, but you restarted his heart – which is amazing by the way – unfortunately, we don't have the equipment to do any detailed scans of the tissue or see if any damage was done."
"I've gained a lot of control-"
"I'm just saying that your powers have been… destructive… in the past," Jemma said, turning away. "Regardless, Lincoln should be fine."
"Thanks, Jemma," Skye said, sounding sincere. Jemma felt a sting in her chest. She didn't deserve to be thanked – she had killed someone. Had failed to kill someone else, but had murdered an- well, not an innocent man, but a man who had only been trying to do the right thing.
Jemma released her tight grip on the tablet she was holding and took a deep breath, dragging as much of a smile as she could muster onto her face.
"I'm heading out, but you should rest too, Skye," she said gently, motioning with her head to the door leading out of the lab. "You've been here for a while, fell asleep even. Get some food, sleep in your bunk for a while. Lincoln's unlikely to wake up tonight."
Skye looked uncertain, staring at Lincoln for a moment, then at the SHIELD symbol on the wall before looking back to the man. Sighing, she got to her feet and reached out her hand to take his, squeezing it gently for a prolonged moment, then turned to join Jemma.
As Skye headed off, Jemma lowered the lights in the lab to a dim twilight and closed the door gently, taking one last look at the two sleeping men. Mike would be moved out in the morning, to head to a place with better resources and a more highly equipped facility so his leg could be reattached and his arm reactivated, but she wasn't sure how long the other man would be sticking around. Heart attack and cardiac arrest victims usually were confined to bedrest for a few days, but Lincoln still had yet to wake, most likely because of the large amounts of tranquilizers in his system. SHIELD didn't even know what kind of powers the man had yet, other than the fact that he seemed to have control over electrical energy.
Deciding to leave those thoughts for the night, Jemma headed to the kitchen. It was late, but she was quite sure she wouldn't be able to sleep for a while; she would make herself a cup of tea and read over some program files she'd been putting off while pretending to try and open the cube. The ruse had been necessary, but time-consuming, and she still felt like she had work to catch up on, even if SHIELD's agenda for their science department was relatively lax in the current climate.
Jemma fixed herself a cup of Earl Grey with one sugar and a dash of milk, then settled herself on one of the high stools, her tablet propped up in front of her. Most of the files were of new tech SHIELD had only just had inventoried or had transferred to the Playground from the Iliad, and Jemma spent long minutes scrolling through pages of information they had gathered about each machine or weapon.
Too soon her tea had disappeared and she was craving more substantial forms of nourishment, so Jemma started another kettle of water boiling for a second mug of tea and rummaged in the snack cupboard for the good crisps, which always seemed to find their way to the back of the second shelf – just a bit out of her reach.
"Need some help?"
Jemma started, whirling around with a gasp and nearly banging her head on the cupboard door, only to see Bobbi standing there, her curls limper than usual, but still in her daywear.
"Bobbi!" Jemma exclaimed, placing a hand over her racing heart. "You startled me." Her breaths were coming fast, but she forced herself to relax. It was just Bobbi. Bobbi might have been part of Gonzales' coup, but she still seemed sincere, still trustworthy, unlike another traitor Jemma could think of.
Thoughts of Ward triggered thoughts of Bakshi, which brought to mind the memory of the splinter bomb in her fingers, the adrenaline rush that surged for a moment when she kicked the man off her, only to be replaced by overwhelming dread and fear as he melted into dust before her eyes.
"Jemma? Agent Simmons?" Bobbi asked, her voice bringing Jemma out of her thoughts. "Are you alright?"
She was not alright, and she knew that, but she wasn't going to admit it out loud. No one needed to know – if she kept it quiet, if she put up a front, nobody would find out. Jemma took a deep breath and pulled another smile onto her face.
"I'm good, you just startled me," she lied, reaching over to pour the water from the steaming kettle into a new mug, a bag of English Breakfast bobbing gently underneath the stream. She swirled the bag around with a spoon, watching the brown leak out of the thin wrapper into the surrounding water, pretending to not intentionally ignore the woman standing behind her.
There was a rustle and the sound of shifting from the cupboard.
"Were you looking for these?" Bobbi asked, holding out the elusive bag.
Jemma looked up and nodded, the repetitive motion of stirring calming her mind. "Yeah. Thanks. I don't know how they always manage to get up there, but, well- I can't seem to reach them."
Bobbi smirked. "It's Mack. They're his favorite, and he seems to think that by storing them so high up none of the rest of us will be able to get ahold of them. I caught him at it once."
Jemma smiled before remembering she was much angrier at Mack than she was at Bobbi, and looked down at her tea again. Mack had betrayed Fitz, which was so much worse than what Bobbi had done. When Jemma had returned from working undercover at HYDRA Mack was the one who had helped Fitz the most. They had gotten along, playing Halo and other video games on the Xbox in their spare time, chatting about various machines and how the designs could be improved. Mack had helped Fitz so much more than Jemma ever could have done after the incident with the med pod, and maybe it was jealousy, or maybe it was simply a wish to protect Fitz, who had never even wanted to go into the field in the first place, but Jemma found it very hard to forgive Mack for lying.
"Penny for your thoughts?" Bobbi asked, skirting around Jemma to pour the rest of the water into her own mug, where a tag and string from a tea bag had fallen over the rim.
It took Jemma a moment to register Bobbi had spoken.
"Mmm?"
"You look really preoccupied. Wanna talk about it?"
"Not really," Jemma mused, nursing the warm mug of tea in her hands.
They stood for a few moments in a tense silence before Jemma broke it.
"So, why are you up and about this late at night?" The clock read five minutes after two in the morning, and Bobbi didn't seem like the night owl type.
"Could ask you the same question," Bobbi joked, taking a sip of her tea with a smile. "I just wanted something warm before heading to bed. Hunter got me in the habit – a British-ism and all that. You?"
The younger woman blinked quickly, dragging her stare away from where it had fixated on the clock on the wall. "Uh, no. No, I'm just reading some files before I go to bed. I've gotten behind on all the new tech, and I just wanted to browse a few of them, get the specs in my head and all…"
Her words trailed off, and she resigned herself to staring into the dark brown liquid of her tea.
"Whenever I got back from a mission, I was bushed," Bobbi said pensively, leaning back on the counter, sipping from her mug. "Once the adrenaline rush wears off, I'm pretty much out unless there's another mission or meeting to attend. Hunter always joked about how much I slept – 'an unhealthy amount' he always said."
"Mmm, I can imagine."
"You should probably head to bed soon – a good night's rest is important, especially for a scientist such as yourself," Bobbi said playfully, though Jemma could only conjure up a weak smile.
The thought of going to bed was positively frightening. The room was too small, with no windows, and it was too dark – even with the lamp on she would almost certainly fall asleep, which wouldn't do any good in the slightest. Jemma's waking nightmares were bad enough – how much worse would they get when she fell asleep and allowed her unconscious mind, her imagination, to get a footing on her memories?
"I'll be fine," she said to Bobbi, shrugging and walking over to where she had left the tablet. "I've had later nights and more stressful days."
She wasn't surprised to hear the casual tone of her words falter, and hid the trembling of her hands in front of her. Jemma tried to breathe, tried to calm herself and lock herself down again, but memories of those "more stressful days" came to mind in full force, leaving her mental walls in shambles.
Falling out of the Bus, limbs flailing, heart racing, a goodbye on her lips.
Rambling about the third Law of Thermodynamics and death and reincarnation as their oxygen ran out and bubble swirled outside the little window set high, letting in murky light from above through the depths of the ocean.
Coming to in the water, her clothes soaked through and miraculously alive, held by muscular and only slightly-less-than-indifferent arms, just longing for a comforting hug from a friend.
Sneaking out before dawn to a Quinjet with Coulson, not saying goodbye to Trip or Skye or Fitz, morphing her innocent biochemist persona into that of a HYDRA agent.
Forcing her limbs through endless meters of water, a dead weight pulling her down even as she struggled for the surface, and the spray breaking around her as she took a deep breath of fresh air, only to see an empty sky above them.
Witnessing Ftiz's eyes flutter open for the first time in over a week and exclaiming in joy – asking him so many questions, babbling on and on in excitement and relief – only to discover he could hardly answer a single one.
Jemma was sobbing before her mind registered the burn of tears or the clenching in her chest that felt like it would make her sick. A hand automatically came to her mouth to stifle the choked breathing, but it was too late for her to hide anything. Her crumbling façade had broken into shattered pieces with no hope of being rebuilt, and she was lost in her distress, crushed underneath waves of shock and fear and pain that she'd held back for so long.
She flinched away from a touch on her arm.
"Jemma-"
She shook her head, stumbling away. "Please- I can't- I didn't want to-" she muttered between sobs, shirking away from another touch, a hand on her shoulder.
"I didn't mean to! It- it was supposed to be Ward! I never meant- I didn't want- It just happened so fast-"
Her mouth was moving, forming words without her permission, and she fled, heart racing.
Jemma had only taken a few strides, had just managed to make it to the sitting room before she was pulled into the embrace of two strong arms.
"-listen to me, please!" came Bobbi's voice from above her head. "Jemma, it's alright. Calm down. No one's blaming you for anything," she said emphatically, even though Jemma knew it was a lie.
"I killed him!" she yelled, sounding insane even to her own ears. The brief silence after her shout lasted far too long, bringing with it a whole host of realizations that she hadn't allowed herself to comprehend beforehand. "I- I killed him," she gasped out, voice falling drastically just as she felt her legs give out.
Bobbi helped the younger woman over to the couch, settling her easily on the cushions. The scientist was staring straight ahead, eyes wide and hands shaking alarmingly.
It appeared to be a mix between shock and a panic attack, which wasn't surprising considering the circumstances. Bobbi had heard stories of what Ward had done to Fitz and Simmons, had seen the aftermath of the act in Fitz's eyes and hands, and heard it in his stuttering voice. Add Bakshi in the mix – someone who had emotionally manipulated Jemma while she'd been a double agent at HYDRA – and something was bound to go wrong.
She had known seconds after they had walked from the Quinjet, had noticed Jemma's scared looks around the base, Fitz's worried looks at her, the way she clenched her hands at her sides, the way he seemed to protect her with his stance. The others on the team were cool – May and Coulson had joined them in the office for debrief and Skye had rushed down to be with her powered friend – Lincoln. But Fitz and Simmons, they were anxious for reasons the rest of the team seemed unaware of.
It was Coulson's report however, that had solidified in Bobbi's mind the fact that Simmons' strange behavior had something to do with Ward and his cohort. Coulson reported that Ward had left Agent Palamas with them, and that he and Bakshi were unaccounted for apart from Ward's phone call.
From that information she had assumed Jemma had seen the man shot and killed while on the mission, and had simply neglected to report it, but from what she was saying, it sounded like the situation was much more delicate than that.
The young woman's eyes were still unfocused, her breathing shallow and tight, but she was no longer in danger of fainting or collapsing. Bobbi reached out to grab one of her hands and saw movement to her left, from the door. May was standing there, looking ready to fight even in her pajamas. She had to have heard Jemma's yells and come to investigate.
"I've got this handled," Bobbi whispered, just loudly enough for May to hear as the older woman took a few steps toward her.
"Panic attack?"
Bobbi nodded.
May looked her in the eye for a moment. "I trust you to help her through it," she said with a nod, then left to go back to bed.
May's approval meant a lot, even with all that had been going on. Bobbi swallowed, and grabbed Jemma's hand gently, pulling it onto her lap.
"Jemma, look at me," she said clearly and calmly. "Look me in the eye so I know you're listening."
Jemma turned her head slowly, hesitantly, to lock eyes with Bobbi.
"Now, I know you're scared, but I need you to calm down, alright?" she asked, squeezing Jemma's hand reassuringly. She waited for Jemma to nod before continuing.
"Good," she praised, "Now take deep breaths in and out until you stop shaking. Can you do that for me?"
Jemma nodded again, and Bobbi closed her eyes, breathing deeply herself to set a standard.
When the biochemist's breathing had finally slowed Bobbi opened her eyes.
"Better?" she asked.
Jemma nodded, her eyes clearer and the shaking of her limbs muted.
"Better," she confirmed weakly. She pulled her hand back and Bobbi let her go. She'd learned from her own experience that space was a good thing.
They sat there in silence for a few long minutes, Jemma's eyes downcast and her fingers playing with the hem of her shirt, Bobbi purposefully focusing on a nondescript patch of wall. She'd learned from Clint to be patient, and from Natasha to let situations play out naturally – not push them.
"Have you ever killed someone?" Jemma asked finally, still looking at her fingers and their improvisational dance.
"I have," Bobbi confirmed, gently, nodding. "When the situation called for it."
Jemma nodded shakily. "But- but have you ever k-killed someone because- because-" she took a steadying breath, "because you w-wanted to?"
Bobbi paused. "Do you mean for revenge?" she asked, having an idea about what Jemma was getting at.
Jemma's eyes flicked to the ceiling, shining brightly in the dim light with unshed tears, and she nodded jerkily, biting her bottom lip between her teeth.
"I haven't," she admitted, "but that doesn't mean I wouldn't if the circumstances were right. If the person had hurt my family – or used them to hurt me – I honestly don't think I'd have a problem killing them."
Jemma didn't say anything to that, but nodded again, eyes still over-bright and raised high.
"You killed Bakshi, didn't you?" Bobbi asked, keeping her tone even.
A watery brown gaze met her own, and a sob escaped Jemma's mouth before her lips tumbled into speech again.
"I didn't mean to, really- it was Ward and I was ready, but then Bakshi was there, and he was crumbling and his face- I couldn't- I don't-"
"Jemma. Jemma, look at me," Bobbi said, scooting closer. "I understand, okay? Remember what I said – if they hurt my family I wouldn't hesitate. I understand."
"But I killed him," Jemma said brokenly, looking lost. "I took someone's life-"
"To be honest, Bakshi was a pretty terrible person," Bobbi mused, speaking from her own experience. The man who had been Whitehall's right hand man was twisted in ways that could hardly be described.
"But he was brainwashed – he didn't know what he was doing," Jemma tried to reason.
"Brainwashed by Ward," Bobbi reminded her. "Personally, I'd rather take the bullet."
Jemma's eyes widened and she shook her head erratically, pulling her knees up to her chest as her breath grew shorter again. "I didn't shoot- it wasn't a bullet- it was- it was-"
"Hey, hey, it's good," Bobbi said, bringing her hand to the younger girl's face, lifting it up. "I don't need to know if you don't want to tell me."
She froze as if she were a deer in the headlights, but snapped out of it as she shook her head, visibly pulling herself together.
"I need to tell someone," she said, her voice steadier than it had been. "It-" she took another deep breath, "I hit him with a splinter bomb."
Bobbi was careful to keep a neutral expression, despite the conflicting emotions battling each other within her chest – sympathy for his death, near delight for the fact he deserved it, and sorrow that the girl in front of her had gone to such lengths, only to fail. Jemma didn't need emotions, Jemma needed reassurance and facts.
So, even though Bobbi wanted to punch something and/or leap for joy, she told Jemma a story.
"I joined HYDRA a few weeks before you did," she said, watching Jemma carefully. "Naturally, since I had been a SHIELD agent who wasn't allied with HYDRA, they didn't trust me much. Bakshi was the one who interrogated me for information, and to "prove" my loyalty to HYDRA.
"His methods were… rough. He doesn't have a conscience, and it showed. Eventually, even with my satisfactory answers and cover, I had to give them some intel. So I gave them the location of a SHIELD safehouse I'd stayed at once. Lesser known, and it wouldn't have major intel stored there, but enough to keep Bakshi satisfied. Unfortunately intel wasn't the only thing they found."
"There was an agent there?" Jemma asked, a hand rising to her mouth to cover her gasp.
Bobbi nodded. "Agent 33 had used the safehouse as a refuge after SHIELD fell. Bakshi's team captured her."
"Agent Palamas?" Jemma whispered, shock and sadness racing across her face.
"It was her," Bobbi affirmed gravely, nodding again. "And Bakshi's methods for torture were cruel and unusual, added on with Whitehall's Faustus technique for brainwashing, they were nothing less than despicable. I still feel sorry for turning her in, for being one of the key reasons she suffered so much. But I can't let that consume me. And you know why that is?"
"Why?"
"Because the alternative was giving up this base, or the Iliad. Two locations where I knew SHIELD agents were desperately trying to recover from HYDRA coming out of the shadows. Ultimately, the lives of the many-"
"-Outweigh the lives of the few," Jemma finished, nodding again, fresh tears filling her eyes, but her voice was steady and her gaze was clear. "The SHIELD code. I remember, when I graduated the Academy."
"Exactly," Bobbi said. "One life is important, but not more important than a dozen or two dozen others. Life's about making choices and sometimes we have to make hard calls, even if they're for the best."
She gave Jemma a hard look, and the biochemist stared back at her, confused.
"But how does this relate to- to Bakshi?" she asked.
"Jemma, you made the tough call this time," Bobbi stated. "No, I don't care if it was an accident, or if you meant to kill Ward – both of them did so many bad things both in general and to your team especially. I'm not saying they deserved to die, but I'm not saying they really deserved to live either. You might have been doing the wrong thing, but it was for the right reasons, Jemma."
The biochemist looked surprised and overwhelmed.
"But I still killed him," she said.
"But he was one man," Bobbi pointed out, "who had hurt so many more people. If anything, you did us all a favor by taking him out."
"But it still hurts," Jemma whispered, her hands twisting together again. "Knowing that I killed him, that he's dead…"
"And like I said, it never stops hurting," Bobbi said, stilling Jemma's movements by resting her own hand on top. "But it's the pain, the remorse we feel, that makes us human. What would we be if we didn't have that moral compass of a conscience guiding us?"
"A sociopath?"
Bobbi smiled, and Jemma giggled nervously.
"Yeah, a sociopath, but you'd be a monster who didn't feel, who would kill without hesitation, who would enjoy it."
"So you're telling me to embrace my pain?"
"I'm telling you to accept it, which is a different thing. Move on, keep working, and remember the pain, but don't let it overcome you and don't ever let it destroy you. Being a field agent is all about making tough calls and split second decisions, heck – being a SHIELD agent means you make those tough calls.
"But I know you, Jemma," Bobbi said, keeping her gaze fixed on Jemma's eyes. "And I know you will do what needs to be done, and that you will do the right thing when the time comes. And that's what matters."
"You think so?"
"I know so," she assured her.
Jemma gave Bobbi a tearful smile, then leaned forward to wrap her arms around the blonde. Bobbi wasn't expecting the gesture, but chuckled and pulled Jemma closer.
"Thanks, Bobbi," she said, "I really needed that."
She pulled back from the hug and wiped off a few tears with her sleeve.
"Anytime," Bobbi said with a laugh.
"…So," Jemma asked after a brief silence. "Are you heading to bed soon then?"
Bobbi yawned. It had been a stressful day, even if she hadn't gone on the mission, and she really was bushed. "I'm planning on it. You?"
"I might," Jemma conceded, though she looked wary.
"Sleep with the lamp on," Bobbi recommended.
"How did you-"
"I felt the same, after the first time I killed someone on a mission. But really, keep a lamp on. It's not too difficult to sleep, but it's easy enough to pretend you just forgot to turn it off."
Jemma laughed at that, and Bobbi felt a smile sneak onto her own face.
The brief laughter was cut off by a yawn, and the smile turned into a smirk. "Sounds like your body wants to sleep anyway," she said, shifting her legs off the couch and stretching her spine to pop the joints. "You should probably listen to it, give it a break now and then at least. It'll be another crazy day at SHIELD tomorrow, you know."
"Don't I know it," Jemma said, rolling her eyes. "Thanks again, Bobbi."
"It was no trouble. My SO did the same for me, but since you didn't have an SO, I figured I could help you out."
They shared a smile, and walked the few steps back to the kitchen in silence, their tea having long since grown cold as it sat on the counter. Bobbi grabbed both mugs and emptied them out, disposing of the tea bags and setting them by the sink to be washed, leaving Jemma to grab her tablet and wait anxiously at the entrance to the kitchen.
Together they walked back to the hallway where their bunks were, sharing a glance down the hall as they each opened their own door to head inside and get some rest, their demons settled for the night.
Well, considering I was planning on this being around 3,000 words, it sort of spiraled out of control. ;) That's okay though, I thoroughly enjoyed writing it, and that's what matters, right?
((*AOU SPOILER ALERT*))The ideas about monsters and humans and feelings came from Age of Ultron (what I think Natasha actually meant when she said she was a monster) and, ((*SPOILER ALERT OVER*)) again, Shadow of a Dream's "(I think that) I'm still human". I can only take credit for interpretation of those ideas in the context of this story, not as my own ideas. :)
Also, ((*SPOILER ALERT FOR THE FINALE*)) the finale basically destroyed all my feelings for ships - Huntingbird, Fitzsimmons, Skylin, Philinda, Mayner (May and Andrew?), etc. - and my feelings for basically every character (aka. Simmons and Coulson and Skye and May and...). Discuss more with me in reviews/PMs though, as I'm not going to rant about everything here. ;)
I will say this... I'm unlikely to eat fish oil ever.
((*SPOILER ALERT ENDS*))
Thank you all for reading, and I hope you enjoyed this little dose of Simmorse friendship love, as I enjoyed writing it!
Leave any comments/questions in a review and I'll get back to you when I have a chance. :)
Love you all, and good reading!
~Dancer