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[She sits by him, but not without difficulty. Now her joints have begun to go stiff and limp at intervals, like the worst sort of arthritis she can imagine.]
Sounds nice.
[It hits her hard this time, right in the gut. She doubles over slightly, giving it a moment before she could talk again.]
I came from Sheffield. England.
Sounds nice.
[It hits her hard this time, right in the gut. She doubles over slightly, giving it a moment before she could talk again.]
I came from Sheffield. England.
Might change. It's -- they're messing with our code. We're.
What planet did you say that was? The database is...
[And then there's another flash, and the warping sensation grows more aggressive. Tiny little pinpricks poke at her awareness. Someone has opened up a dialogue box to type with her.
> Hello
> Is there someone there?
]
What planet did you say that was? The database is...
[And then there's another flash, and the warping sensation grows more aggressive. Tiny little pinpricks poke at her awareness. Someone has opened up a dialogue box to type with her.
> Hello
> Is there someone there?
]
[Earth. She comes from Earth. I'm Jemma Simmons and I come from Sheffield, England, United Kingdom -- ]
> Hello?
> Hello?
[
> I'm presently operating on a theory.
> Please state designation and function.
]
> I'm presently operating on a theory.
> Please state designation and function.
]
[The cursor blinks for quite awhile.]
> I don't know how.
[She can't, can she? She's tried.]
> I don't know how.
[She can't, can she? She's tried.]
> just trust me.
[And then, all at once, things go black for her. It's a more limiting darkness than the usual kind. There's no company here, and no sense of connectedness. Her link to the system is cut off. For the first time in months, Jemma is genuinely alone.]
[And then, all at once, things go black for her. It's a more limiting darkness than the usual kind. There's no company here, and no sense of connectedness. Her link to the system is cut off. For the first time in months, Jemma is genuinely alone.]
[It's not just alone -- it's empty. The circuitry is now dead, and she doesn't feel that pulse anymore; it had become how she measured life. And now she was dead. She moaned a little. Now Will was alone. And she wouldn't see Fitz again.
Then again, if this was the afterlife... it could be far worse.]
Then again, if this was the afterlife... it could be far worse.]
Fitz --
[Who else could be so angry and determined and Scottish? She knows that tone as well as she knows the person that it belongs to. It rings in her ears.
But that can't be. She's dead -- or good as.]
Will.
[Maybe it's the virus again. She can't let it trick her like it did before.]
[Who else could be so angry and determined and Scottish? She knows that tone as well as she knows the person that it belongs to. It rings in her ears.
But that can't be. She's dead -- or good as.]
Will.
[Maybe it's the virus again. She can't let it trick her like it did before.]
[She pulls her hand away, though nothing else moves, not yet. She's holding her breath, until she lets it out in a rush and automatically takes one out again. Her eyes open but it's too bright and they squeeze shut again. She tries to sublimate back into the code -- become the ones and zeroes that stream by at breakneck speed, but there's nothing. Her avatar remains.]
Fitz --
[Her voice is creaky from disuse, throat dry. He's put his hand in hers again and she squeezes it. She squeezes it like it can save her from the bright, noisy, solid reality.]
[Her voice is creaky from disuse, throat dry. He's put his hand in hers again and she squeezes it. She squeezes it like it can save her from the bright, noisy, solid reality.]
Not asleep.
[She tries opening her eyes again, this time letting them become accustomed to the med bay's bright light, little by little.]
[She tries opening her eyes again, this time letting them become accustomed to the med bay's bright light, little by little.]
[Fitz is there, hovering over her. His expression is still fairly neutral, though his tone betrays anxiety.]
No -- you aren't now. I know that. I knew this time would be the one that works.
[He knew the last twenty times would be the one that worked as well.]
No -- you aren't now. I know that. I knew this time would be the one that works.
[He knew the last twenty times would be the one that worked as well.]
I wasn't.
[She can't argue. He will just have to get used to it. She squeezes his hand again, and is torn for a moment -- Fitz is here, but Will is still there, and now he'll be alone. Tears came to her eyes, and one escaped, running down her temple.]
[She can't argue. He will just have to get used to it. She squeezes his hand again, and is torn for a moment -- Fitz is here, but Will is still there, and now he'll be alone. Tears came to her eyes, and one escaped, running down her temple.]
I...
[How does he mean?]
My -- my sensory inputs are... functioning.
[How does he mean?]
My -- my sensory inputs are... functioning.
... No?
[She doesn't think so. She has one hand in his, but she lifts the other carefully. They were heavy, how did she ever have a body?]
[She doesn't think so. She has one hand in his, but she lifts the other carefully. They were heavy, how did she ever have a body?]
Am I?
[She supposed she probably took for granted how much people with actual bodies moved, even when they were being still. Even so, she's not sure she can dredge up the energy to move too much if she doesn't have to.]
[She supposed she probably took for granted how much people with actual bodies moved, even when they were being still. Even so, she's not sure she can dredge up the energy to move too much if she doesn't have to.]
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