Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. fic: Loyalties (3/5)
Jemma took a sip of her wine and changed the channel on the TV. The sad truth was, a few months ago, an evening in with trashy reality shows would have been quite welcome. Now, many of her thoughts were on how much longer Garrett and Ward were going to wait on her to replicate the serum…and what they would do with her once they decided they had waited long enough…and whether the delay was due to Mack’s sabotage or her own reluctance to let Garrett reach his full potential. Because, perhaps contrary to popular belief, Jemma wasn’t amoral. And the more she saw of Hydra and people like Garrett, the more she began to regret some of the choices she had made. It wasn’t like she was secretly dreaming of defecting to S.H.I.E.L.D. or anything, but she was starting to wonder if there actually was a limit to her scientific ambition. It wouldn’t do much good to figure out all the answers to the universe, after all, if she played a part in destroying the world while she was at it.
And, of course, the rest of her thoughts were on Mack. She missed him when she was away. It sounded silly, but she couldn’t help it. She could call up some friends and go out, she could take some much needed private time, but all she wanted to do was sneak back onto the plane and hang out with him.
They’d be grounded for the next three days while Garrett met with some contacts and the plane was restocked. Ward, meanwhile, was finding a new engineer. He had asked Jemma if she wanted to have input, and maybe she would have, but he had also given her this too-charming smile and said something about wanting to make sure she was happy and productive so she could do her very best work and stick around for a long, long time. Between the creepy flirtatious vibe and the implied threat, Jemma felt like something was crawling up her back. She had politely declined.
Anyway, three days. She could stay away from Mack for three days. Their relationship had gotten a little too codependent and dangerous anyway. She had run out of batteries for…the device in her bunk. It had gotten much more use after Jemma had acknowledged that he might just be a real person…ghost…whatever. He was so important to her, so perfect for her. He could argue science with her for hours and implore her to be a better person than she claimed she was and make her want more out of life than she had ever realized and remind her how it felt to be the focus of someone’s attention. The notion that someone like that could actually exist but she could never really have him caused such intense longing in her, she couldn’t help but spend more and more time thinking of him in the private, dark intimacy of her own room.
So, yeah. Maybe it was a good thing to have a few days apart.
***
Simmons sat bolt upright in bed, heart pounding and breathing fast. She wasn’t sure what exactly had woken her, but it wasn’t the pleasurable dreams she had grown used to, that was for sure. She forced herself to inhale and exhale slowly, trying to see anything in the dark room as she listened closely.
There it was. A creak from the floorboard in the hallway just outside her bedroom. She slowly reached over, groping around on her bedside table for some kind of makeshift weapon. All she could find was a hardcover book. Jemma lifted her eyes to the ceiling and shook her head. It’d have to do.
She carefully and quietly slid out of bed and then tiptoed towards the door. She just managed to get into position next to the door when she saw the knob slowly turn. She held her breath and tried not to pass out from fear.
An Asian woman, wearing black leather like some kind of ninja, stepped into the bedroom. Perhaps someone more trained in combat would have known how to handle this situation better, would have waited to see if there were any more people coming, something. Jemma just swung the book as hard as she could at the woman’s head.
There was a satisfying thud and a grunt of pain, but Jemma didn’t wait to see if it had been enough. She ran as fast as she could (not very fast considering she was barefoot and in a nightie and there was barely any light to see by, but the adrenaline was doing its job). She made it to the kitchen by the time she heard the woman shouting something behind her.
The front door was kicked open. Jemma spun to face the new threat. She caught a glimpse of an unfairly attractive man aiming a weapon at her. It flashed with some kind of light and then - there was nothing.
***
“Good morning, Dr. Simmons.”
The man’s voice was calm and pleasant, with a bit of underlying humor though Jemma couldn’t for the life of her figure out what was so funny.
She pried her eyes open and turned towards the speaker. He was wearing a suit and tie and frankly looked rather forgettable. Somehow she knew she shouldn’t underestimate him.
“Who are you?” she asked, trying to sit up. But she was strapped to the table - immediately panic started to well up. “Where am I? What do you want?”
He held up a hand, interrupting her. And then, to her surprise, he stepped forward and began to undo the straps.
“I apologize for these. You were thrashing around quite a bit in your sleep. For your own protection, you understand. But you’re not going to hurt anyone, are you?”
Jemma wasn’t making any promises.
“Welcome to S.H.I.E.L.D. My name is Phil Coulson. I just have a few questions for you.”
She should have known.
“Would you like a change of clothes?”
Jemma glanced down and noticed she was still in her nightgown. And it was very cold in the room. She crossed her arms over her chest and nodded.
“I’ll have Skye bring something for you. And then we can have a little chat.”
***
“Hi Jemma. Can I call you Jemma?”
Coulson had only been gone about five minutes, but it was more than enough time to realize there was no way to escape the sterile, hospital-like room they had her in. So she had spent the remaining time sitting on the edge of the bed, kicking her legs back and forth and trying to figure out what she’d say to get out of this.
“Are you supposed to be the Good Cop?” To be fair, that was probably not the most diplomatic start.
The woman smiled. It was a pretty smile, and Jemma noticed they were probably close in age. In a different world, they could have been friends.
“Sure, why not? Though we’re all pretty nice, in my opinion. Not everyone makes the greatest first impression, unfortunately.”
Jemma shrugged and made a sarcastic face. “Breaking into someone’s home and kidnapping them maybe isn’t the best way to make friends.”
“How about giving them clothes?”
She held out some sweatpants and a t-shirt with the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo. Jemma looked at them for a moment, feeling strangely hesitant. Like maybe there was a deeper meaning behind her desire to put the outfit on beyond the fact that she was practically naked.
“They’re not going to hurt you, or anything,” the girl said, shaking the clothes slightly.
Jemma reached out and grabbed them rather than let herself worry about it more. Turning away for some semblance of privacy, she pulled the sweatpants on quickly. Then she stripped off the nightie and replaced it with the t-shirt.
“I’m Skye,” she heard, the sound slightly muffled by the fabric she was pulling over her head.
Jemma turned around again. “You can,” she finally said. “Call me Jemma, I mean.”
Skye smiled again, somewhat more genuinely. “Follow me, Jemma.”
They walked through several hallways of something that resembled - and probably actually was - an underground lair. Only S.H.I.E.L.D. She tried not to be too distracted as they walked past the windows of a large, sweetly-equipped lab with blinking computers and long tables full of all sorts of goodies. Jemma could feel her hands twitch with the desire to get her hands on some of them.
And then they were in a briefing room. A few people sat around a table, with Coulson standing in front of them all. Jemma looked around. One of them was the one who shot her with whatever that device was, and he was now giving her a friendly, almost flirtatious smile. She still thought he was unfairly attractive, but she wasn’t about to return the smile. The guy sitting next to him was incredibly muscular, could probably squeeze her to death with one hand. He too seemed friendly, but much more suspicious than the first guy. And then there was another man who gave off a kind of arrogant jock vibe, and the Asian woman she had hit with the book. She looked the most stern, and Jemma was a bit afraid she’d be paying for that move sooner than later.
“Hello again, Dr. Simmons. Please have a seat.”
She decided not to argue and sat down immediately. Skye pulled out the chair next to her and flopped into it.
“So formal, DC. It’s Jemma.”
“Jemma,” Coulson began again. “Let’s get right to the point. You attempted to search the internet for me and members of my team. Why? What were you looking for?”
Jemma was quiet for a long moment, trying to figure out how to even begin to answer - or if she should risk answering at all. What would they do if they found out she was Hydra? Maybe she could just pretend they had the wrong person. But then she’d never find out the truth about Mack, never find a way to help him if she could. She’d have to go back to that plane with nothing but the growing knowledge that she was running out of time.
If she was going to die one way or the other, she could do something about the guilty conscience that had been eating at her since she signed the contract with Hydra. She could take as many of them down with her as possible. And maybe, just maybe, that was the real reason she had typed Coulson’s name into that browser.
Genuine tears sprung to her eyes as the truth struck her. And as she took a breath, she remembered a long-ago exchange.
“Only took 48 hours to crack you. Not much of a supervillain, are you?”
“I’m not a villain,” she whispered. “I need help.”
Coulson shared a quick glance with the Asian woman. Her face softened almost imperceptibly, and Coulson pulled out the chair in front of him. He spoke as he sat down, again with that calm, pleasant, sincere tone.
“Tell us everything.”
So, Jemma did. She went back to the beginning of it all, and talked about how the man she later learned was Garrett had approached her one day after work, had talked to her about an amazing opportunity to conduct cutting-edge science and see the world. He spoke of unlimited resources and gave examples of the types of things that had been analyzed after New York, extraterrestrial wonders beyond her imagining. And yes, of course, she had heard about Hydra and Captain America, but in the face of all that promise, it was easy to believe his assertions about propaganda and Hydra’s modern activities compared to the dark days of their past and how no one should be judged for their past. She found a way to justify it all, despite all the protests and pleas she heard from family and friends and her own inner voice.
But those justifications couldn’t hold up. Not in the face of what she saw and what the others did. Donnie, and all those people who died that day. They hadn’t been the first to die, and they wouldn’t be the last. The brainwashing. The implied threats against her life whenever another attempt to replicate the formula had failed.
She was so afraid. She regretted everything so much. The only thing she couldn’t regret was Mack. He was the one, really, who opened her eyes to all the horrors that were going on. Who believed she was better than Hydra and wanted her safe and happy. Who ultimately had given her the idea to try and find Coulson, because he had so much faith in the goodness of S.H.I.E.L.D.
She stopped talking finally, feeling the desperation drain out of her. She had told them as much as she was willing or able to, and she could only hope for the best. The others looked around the table at each other for a moment.
The next question came, surprisingly, from the muscular man across from her, and it was the last question she was expecting.
“Who’s Mack?”
Jemma’s jaw dropped, and she fumbled for an answer. The others watched her intently. “You won’t believe me,” she finally said.
Coulson gave her a quick smile. “Try us.”
“He’s…he’s…a ghost.”
Another long pause. “A ghost?” Skye asked.
“He haunts the plane. Well, my lab. I think he must have been part of your team. Did…did someone die?”
“No,” Coulson said firmly. He looked at the man who had asked about Mack. “And there was no one on our team by that name.”
“Well,” Jemma hedged. “I doubt that’s his real name. He couldn’t remember it, so he just suggested Mack. I never thought it sounded right, even if it is Scottish-y.”
The Asian woman looked at her sharply, and Jemma heard Skye gasp next to her.
“Scottish?” Skye asked, her voice somewhat strained.
Coulson cleared his throat and the room went silent. After a moment, Coulson asked “What is this Mack like?”
Jemma started to feel really confused. “Um…curly hair, kinda skinny. Really smart. He gets unreasonably angry over silly things sometimes, just starts yelling nonsense. He’s - he’s my best friend. I know that sounds stupid, but…he’s real. I know he’s real.”
“Well,” Coulson paused and looked down. “Well, we’ll have to deal with that later. First things first, after all. I’d like to offer you a deal, Jemma.”
“What?”
“Go back to that plane.”
Jemma’s shoulders fell and she felt her stomach tighten into a knot. “No,” she could barely get out. “Please don’t make me.”
“Go back to that plane,” Coulson said again. “And we’ll be right behind you. Lead us to where it’s being held, so we can retake it. And when we bring it home, we’ll bring you with it.”