Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Dinner.”

“Fast approaching, yes, and we’ll eat it, I’m sure.”

“Yea, no, no, no, but uh… Me and you, maybe we could eat somewhere else. You know, somewhere… nice.”

Jemma went still as she processed Fitz’s words.

“Oh,” she said simply, feeling her face get warm. Any other words failed her. All she could do was smile in a way that hopefully didn’t look too stupid and nod in a way that wasn’t too jerky.

Fitz nodded along with her, a small, adorable smile appearing on his face. “Good. Okay. Uh, well, uh… You should come find me when you’re finished here, and uh, I’ll start working on options to run by you for that.”

With that, he walked away and closed the door, leaving Jemma alone in the lab. Coming out of the surprise and (endearing) awkwardness of that interaction, Jemma felt a smile reach her eyes as she fully processed what that meant. Fitz, asking her out on a lovely dinner date! As much as Bobbi grilled her on her feelings, she didn’t quite realize how happy that idea made her until it was made into an imminent reality. For the longest time, she hadn’t allowed herself to acknowledge those kinds of feelings at all.

After months of hell, things finally felt like they were looking up.

Now eager to finish things up in the lab as fast as possible, Jemma quickly sorted out the remaining things they’d gotten from the Afterlife as fast as she could. Not too quickly that the job would be done poorly, of course, but efficiently with no time to dawdle and leave Fitz (or herself) waiting. But as she moved some things aside, a stack of books caught her eye and made her pause for a moment.

Upon closer inspection, she realized that these books must have been the records of Inhuman history that Skye’s- Daisy’s, Jemma mentally corrected herself- mother had kept. Jemma recalled Agent Coulson mentioning potentially sending those books to Dr. Garner to study further. She wondered what they were doing in the lab. The historical side of things certainly wasn’t Jemma’s expertise, nor was it Fitz’s. But still, something drew her to those books.

Surely, Coulson and Garner wouldn’t mind if she took a look.

Curiously, she opened the book at the top of the stack, eyeing the various drawings with interest. She didn’t read too closely, figuring it would be best to leave scrutiny to Dr. Garner, but it was still interesting to catch a glimpse.

Then, upon turning another page, she was suddenly hit with a puff of light colored gas that shot out from the center of the book.

A split second moment of confusion- had Jiaying poisoned the book? What was that?- was followed by panic. Instinctively, Jemma backed away, trying her best to not breathe in any more than she already had. To her surprise, her movement grew slower as her legs stiffened. As she watched a stone-like layer of black travel up her legs and held up her hand to see it forming there, too, the dreadful realization sank deep into her stomach of what that gas was.

Terrigen mist. The book had been trapped with terrigen mist.

Her heart raced, but there was nothing she could do except helplessly watch as the blackness slowly crept over her body. The thought crossed her mind to scream, call out for help, but her vocal cords were paralyzed. It wouldn’t make a difference anyway, and she knew that.

A rapid tidal wave of thoughts and memories crashed through her mind. Being put to bed by her mother, watching the stars with her father, her days at the academy, meeting Fitz…

Oh, Fitz. A film of tears couldn’t help forming over her eyes. She hoped that he wouldn’t be the one to find her crumbled body there. After all he’d been through, he deserved to find out in a gentler way.

As the layer of stone completely covered her face, all she could think about was her family, her friends, and hope that Coulson remembered the request she made to him another time when she was sure she was about to die and tell her father first.

Then, suddenly, light cracked the black that had consumed her vision.

As the cocoon fell away, she took a few shocked, skeptical breaths, hardly believing that this was real, as she watched her outstretched hand break free as well. After only a few moments, the seemingly deadly substance that had formed over her body was a pile of black dust on the ground at her feet, and she was alive, still standing, still breathing.

That meant-

No, no, it couldn’t possibly be that. Surely, this was a fluke of some kind. Perhaps it wasn’t real Terrigen mist. Something meant to imitate it, maybe? Or perhaps it was in that old, dusty book for so long that it had somehow lost its effectiveness. A million other possibilities worked their way into Jemma’s mind, and she was willing to believe just about any of them, because the alternative made no sense to her.

She couldn’t have possibly gone through Terrigenesis. She was not an Inhuman. There was no possible way! Daisy made sense. Her mother was an Inhuman; it was in her blood. Jemma was just a plain, normal, human girl from Sheffield with plain, normal, human parents.

With numb, wobbling legs, Jemma walked around the lab in search of a reflective surface. The glass casing of one of the artifacts did well enough. She studied her faint reflection, looking for any abnormality, but she found none. Her face, her eyes, her hair, everything was normal. Then again, Skye still looked like a normal human, too.

Jemma then looked around to see if anything in her environment was changing. She wasn’t sure what to look for (things starting on fire? The air changing? Materials shifting physical or chemical properties?), but regardless, nothing appeared to be happening. Everything looked normal. She felt normal. At least, she was fairly sure she felt normal.

The Terrigen mist must not have been real, or it had degraded, or any of the possibilities that weren’t Jemma becoming an Inhuman were true. One of those things had to be the case, because Jemma was not an Inhuman and whatever just happened to her was not Terrigenesis.

Still, though, there was a strange feeling about this occurrence that she couldn’t shake.

Jemma’s still rubbery legs took her out of the lab with hardly a conscious thought as she moved through the hallways. She wasn’t sure whether she was looking for Fitz to forget about what just happened and go on a dinner date, or if she was looking for Coulson, or May, or anyone, really, to inform them of what happened. Real and functioning Terrigen mist or not, who knew what else those books could have been trapped with? Maybe another one held actual Terrigen mist. In that case, Dr. Garner had to be warned before those books were sent to him.

As she passed through busier parts of the Playground where various agents were still moving about, Jemma felt a sudden dull ache in her head as a faint buzzing noise filled her ears. She slowed down and took a look around. What the hell was that sound? Had an electronic device of some kind broken?

The buzzing got a little louder as someone else was about to pass by, who she quickly realized was Hunter. A bit relieved at a familiar face, Jemma was about to approach him and ask if he, too, heard the noise, but a change in the nature of the noise distracted her. A strange… whispering noise of some kind overtook the buzzing and began to fill her head. With it, various images flashed through her mind that she couldn’t make any sense of.

Hunter paused, looked at her for a moment, and said something to her, but she could hardly make out his voice over the noise.

“I’m sorry,” she said, smiling politely through the increasing pain in her head, “what did you say?”

“I asked if you were alright,” Hunter replied. “You look like you’re seein’ a ghost.”

“Um, sorry, just…” Jemma had to put all her focus into talking, getting her bearings straight. “Um, just looking for Fitz.”

Hunter’s eyes lit up and, despite the sudden sensory overload, Jemma felt a hint of… excitement?

“Yea? He told me that he was finally making a move,” he said with a huge smile. “Congratulations. Don’t break the man’s heart, alright? And don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”

With a wink, Hunter walked away, and thankfully, the buzzing and whispers went away along with him. As she stood alone in the hallway again, the realization slowly sank in that the Terrigen mist definitely did something to Jemma. Her legs grew unsteady again. She was an Inhuman. She had gone through Terrigenesis. She was an Inhuman.

What was she going to do? She had to tell someone about this. What would happen to her then? She remembered how Skye- Daisy, damnit!- was after her own Terrigenesis. She could hardly control her powers. How long would it take Jemma to control hers? What even were her powers? Were those Hunter’s thoughts she was hearing? That was a terrible power to have unchecked. What if she was stuck hearing everyone’s thoughts uncontrollably for the rest of her life? How would Fitz feel about that? Or Daisy? Or anyone?

Jemma took a deep breath in, closed her eyes, and exhaled with a long sigh. She would search for Fitz first. He, at the very least, had to know that their dinner date needed to be postponed.

Thankfully, Fitz was in his quarters with the door open a crack and Jemma didn’t have to search through the Playground and deal with more people’s thoughts. Fitz’s mind was far calmer than Hunter’s, thankfully. It was actually quite peaceful in that moment, almost… warm. There seemed to be a song of some kind stuck in his head, one that Jemma didn’t know, but found to sound quite pleasant. There were images of her, images of both of them…

She stopped herself from focusing on that, trying her hardest to block it out. How could she intrude upon him like that? God, she needed to get these awful powers in check as soon as possible.

“Jemma?” he softly called from inside. She could feel the smile on his face before she even saw it, and felt a pang of guilt as she realized that that smile likely wouldn’t be on his face for very long. Nevertheless, she smiled back out of sheer habit, though hers was far more nervous than his. “Have you, uh, have you decided where you want to eat?”

With an awkward chuckle, Jemma tried her best to focus on anything but the thoughts that slowly encroached upon her head as she walked into the room and replied, “We’re going to need to take a rain check.”

There was disappointment, anxiety, a hint of Is she being serious right now? and a Is there something wr- No. She had to stop listening in on that. She had to focus on his actual voice.

“What do you mean?” is what his actual voice said, trying to sound calm, but still colored by those thoughts despite Jemma’s best efforts to drown them out.

She felt a pang in her head as his thoughts became a buzz. The headache mingled with the anxiety and made her nauseous and hardly able to bring herself to speak at all. Her head felt so tight all of a sudden. How was she going to explain this?

“Jemma, what’s- what’s happening?” Fitz asked, pointing behind her and staring with wide eyes. She felt his fear. His thoughts buzzed louder and louder.

Slowly, Jemma turned her head. A water bottle and notebook on his nightstand were floating in the air. His pillow and blanket were floating as well, along with a painting above his bed.

He said something that she couldn’t hear verbally, but she could hear the corresponding thought. What is going on?

She could hardly even process that, definitely not enough to adequately answer his question. Her head kept aching, the constricting pain intensified by the fear, the concern, the worrying, the buzzing, the increasingly louder mental blaring of What the hell is going on? as he said things she couldn't hear or understand.

”Stop yelling!” she suddenly shouted, throwing her hands over her ears. A bit of the tight feeling in her head loosened up in an instant as she heard the things that were floating drop, the painting crashing onto the headboard. At the same instant, the increasingly frantic stream of Fitz’s consciousness grew quieter.

“I wasn’t yelling,” he said, stepping closer and gently holding her wrists, slowly guiding her hands away from her ears and holding them. “Jemma, please, talk to me. What’s going on?”

A fresh wave of tears gathered in Jemma’s eyes as she finally said in a small voice, “The books Daisy’s mum kept were trapped with Terrigen mist.”

Even if she couldn’t hear his thoughts, Jemma could see the gears turn in Fitz’s brain as the realization slowly hit him and his eyes went wide once more.

“And you-” He freed one hand from hers and pointed to her.

She nodded her head.

“And… you can do-” He pointed to all the things that had just been floating in the air.

Jemma shrugged. “I don’t know. I-” She cut herself off, almost ashamed to admit it. But he had to know. “I can hear thoughts.”

She squeezed her eyes closed, letting the tears fall, and tried to think of anything to not listen to or feel whatever his internal reaction was.

“Oh,” he said flatly after a moment.

“I’m sorry,” she immediately said. “I-I’m trying not to, I swear.”

“It’s okay, Jemma.” Fitz wrapped his arms around her and held her close. “I’ve got nothing to hide, definitely not from you, right?”

Jemma breathed out a small laugh against his chest. She supposed if the roles were reversed, she’d rather him in her head than anyone else.

“And we’ll get through this, alright?” he continued. “Just like we always do. I’ll be by your side no matter what.”

She tried to drown out the pang of guilt she felt at that. Fitz was far too good for her, staying by her side with no hesitation when she left him in his moment of need. But they were together now, and if there was any upside to this newfound ability, it was that she could feel that he wholeheartedly believed what he was saying, that she would get through this. That they would get through this.

“Let’s find everyone else,” Fitz said.

The dread sank in as Jemma realized that she had to be bombarded with everyone else’s thoughts. If just Hunter’s alone, or even Fitz’s alone could give her such a headache, she couldn’t imagine how seven different minds all at once would affect her.

But still, she went with Fitz out the door and tried to focus on his comforting hand around hers rather than how very scared she was.

Chapter Text

The walk through the Playground was actually rather soothing, with Fitz going at a deliberately slow pace and holding onto Jemma’s hand the whole time. She still felt a bit of dull pain in her head, but it was less from Fitz’s thoughts themselves and more from her efforts to not actually hear too many of them. That still felt so terribly intrusive and was easily the part of these new powers Jemma wanted most to get under control quickly, arguably even more than the telekinesis she apparently now possessed.

But the thoughts that made it from Fitz’s head into hers were soft, warm, reassuring. It’s gonna be okay. It’s gonna be okay, Jemma. She couldn’t help but smile at it, squeezing his hand and letting him squeeze hers back. It was easy to let the imminent trouble of a newly transformed Inhuman with uncontrollable headache-inducing mind reading abilities and telekinesis fall to the back of her mind and believe everything Fitz was saying both out loud and in his mind, that everything would be alright.

Then, the sight of Coulson and Daisy in Coulson’s office brought Jemma right back to reality as, even before she actually got near them, the mere thought of hearing two other people’s thoughts stacked on top of Fitz’s filled her with dread.

Even before they went inside, two new streams of consciousness wormed their way into Jemma’s head. Images of Daisy’s parents, images of Gordon, images of an arm with a severed hand, all blurs in the background to a conversation they were having. Inhumans and people like me and secret warriors were the only things Jemma could make out as her ears began to ring. She squeezed Fitz’s hand again and he squeezed back, though that didn’t provide quite as much relief as it did before.

“Sir, may we come in?” Fitz asked.

What is it now? I’m busy with something, what could be such an emergency with Fitzsimmons? There better not be some alien portal opening up right now or I swear to God- “Can it wait a moment?” Coulson asked.

Even Fitz’s thoughts grew a bit louder. No, it can’t bloody wait a moment. “This is something urgent.”

Daisy looked at them from behind the glass. Simmons looks like hell. Is she okay? Another alien virus outbreak?

Coulson followed her gaze. Simmons. Something is wrong with Simmons. What the hell happened?

Soon, Jemma could hardly make out any specific thought over another. Their growing worry was making her heart race, the thoughts racing through their minds were getting louder and more disjointed until all it was was noise, and her stomach felt like it was turning inside out. She broke her hand out of Fitz’s and brought both hands to her ears, but it didn’t block out any noise nor provide any relief.

“-Terrigen mist,” she vaguely heard Fitz say over the drone of thoughts, which then led to Coulson and Daisy’s minds getting even louder.

Terrigen mist?

If she got hit with the Terrigen mist from the Afterlife and survived, then that means…

Simmons is an Inhuman?

Simmons is an Inhuman.

Simmons is an Inhuman.

Jemma could hardly suck a proper breath into her lungs as the noise overwhelmed her. Her vision grew blurry, her legs felt as though they were about to give in, and she could hardly even see or process Fitz trying to comfort her, or Daisy running towards her, or Coulson asking ”What’s wrong? What’s happening to her? repeatedly (words she only heard as they were echoed by his thoughts), or that tight feeling accompanying the throbbing pain in her head as objects in Coulson’s office began to lift up. A mug, a book, a stapler, a stack of papers, and more items Jemma couldn’t quite see.

Daisy said something that Jemma couldn’t process at all while reaching a hand out towards her, which she slapped away like it was instinct. She pushed Fitz’s hand away, too, wanting to keep both of her hands free and tightly cupping her ears. It wasn’t until her cheeks felt wet that she realized she had tears in her eyes, and that she was struggling to draw in breaths because she was sobbing. The items floating in the room began to shake and fling about. She stumbled back against a wall, banging her aching head against it and ignoring everyone’s protests. She wanted it to stop. All the pain, all the noise, she just wanted it all to stop.

Once again, Daisy got closer, and this time, she was nearly struck in the head with a mug, then a thick coffee table book. Coulson got hit with another book, but this didn’t dissuade him as he gently laid his arm on Jemma’s back. Jemma tried to shove him away, too, but she ran out of energy quickly as he led her out of the office.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered as the objects in his office fell to the ground. “I-I’m so sorry.”

The team gathered for an emergency meeting outside of a holding cell that Simmons had been brought to. Daisy glanced inside the room. They managed to get the lights in this particular cell a little lower, and Simmons lay on the bed inside under the low light with her arm over her face. It was heartbreaking to see her so distressed, the sight bringing Daisy back to the stressful days in quarantine after her own Terrigenesis. And while the uncontrollable quaking massively sucked, hearing other people’s thoughts constantly sounded like hell.

“So, Simmons is an Inhuman,” Mack said with a half-disbelieving, half-questioning tone.

“Well, she got hit with a Terrigen mist trap, survived, telekinetically flung my coffee cups around my office, and Fitz says she can hear thoughts,” Coulson replied, “so I’d say there’s a pretty decent chance.”

“The question is, what are we gonna do?” Fitz asked.

“We help her figure it out and adjust,” Daisy simply replied. “Just like we want to do with all Inhumans.”

Mack glanced at her. “All Inhumans?”

“Jiaying may not have been a good person in the end, but her mission with the Inhumans in the Afterlife was still important,” Coulson said. “She taught them how to control their abilities and she gave them a place to belong. We want SHIELD to be a place like that for Inhumans, too.” He took a look inside the holding cell. “And it looks like we’re starting that mission with another one of our own.”

“Sorry, I’m still a bit hung up on the fact that she can read our thoughts,” Hunter said. “Helping her adjust to that means that, like, she won’t hear everything, all the time, right?”

“Hearing me, Coulson, and Fitz all at once made her overwhelmed,” Daisy responded. “She was having a meltdown. She was in pain. I don’t want her to go through that again if there’s anything we can do about that.”

“We can’t keep her locked away forever,” Fitz said. “I feel like someone should be in there with her, at least.”

“No one’s going in there until she’s ready for company,” Daisy said back.

“But she was fine with just me.”

“I know that, and I’m sure it won’t be long before she is again, but she needs to be alone right now. Away from any of our panicky heads. Alright?”

Fitz didn’t respond, only held his hand to his forehead as he paced around the area. Daisy couldn’t blame him for wanting to be in there with her. A part of her did, too. But Simmons’ comfort was more important, especially so soon after Terrigenesis.

“And we’re not gonna keep her locked away forever,” Daisy continued. “We’ll figure this out. She’ll figure this out, and we’ll all help her.”

Jemma didn’t know how long she’d been asleep before her head finally felt well enough to let her eyes crack open. She’d woken up a few times before, but her head felt so foggy and muddled that she fell right back asleep. Even this time, as the fog was clearing, she wasn’t entirely sure where she was at first. It certainly wasn’t her bed, hence why she kept waking up despite her exhaustion. But where was she? It was so quiet, not even any white noise.

She sat up in bed to look around, and was immediately greeted by the honeycomb walls of a holding cell. Her stomach sank as she remembered exactly why she was there.

How long had she been in there? How long was she sleeping? She didn’t even know if it mattered. She certainly couldn’t leave there and be bombarded with the minds of everyone in SHIELD again. She had to learn to control it somehow, but she had no idea how to do that alone, and anyone who could help her would be another stream of thoughts she’d have to try and block out. And that wasn’t even touching on the telekinesis she also couldn’t control. She winced as she remembered what happened in Coulson’s office.

“I’m going to be in this cell forever,” she muttered to herself, burying her face into her hands.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” a familiar voice said from outside the cell. Jemma headed to the door and saw Daisy on the other side. “Is it okay if I come in? Fitz wants to visit at some point, too, but we both agreed it’d be best to go one at a time, and I wanted to talk to you first, if you’re comfortable with that.”

Jemma considered that for a moment. On one hand, if there was going to be any other mind for her to have to hear, she preferred the comfort of Fitz’s, especially since she knew what his thoughts sounded like alone. But Daisy was a comforting presence, too, so surely, she wouldn’t be so bad. Plus, she was another Inhuman. She was likely there to help Jemma, and would be of more use in that regard than Fitz.

“If it sways you at all,” Daisy said, holding up a tray with a plate of pancakes and bacon and a cup of coffee, “I did bring breakfast.”

So Jemma had been in the holding cell all night. That did make sense. And now that breakfast was mentioned, the fact that Jemma never ate that dinner she and Fitz were planning last night and hadn’t eaten anything at all since the previous afternoon was hitting her. She looked at Daisy and nodded, despite the nervous feeling in Jemma’s stomach that was only partially subdued by the hungry feeling in it, and Daisy opened the door.

...secret warriors once Dr. Garner and May get back, but she might not even want to be a part of that, Daisy’s mind was racing, if quietly, as she followed Jemma to her bed and sat beside her. She’s in SHIELD, where she belongs, no matter what. Focus on helping her through this.

Jemma considered asking what that was all about, but decided against it. Instead, she turned her focus to the sweet smell of fresh American pancakes and the enticing bitter aroma of the hot coffee. The moment she sat down in the bed, she poured the container of syrup on the tray over the pancakes and eagerly dug in. They were delicious, as any food would have been after roughly eighteen stressful hours without food.

Daisy’s thoughts still whispered. I really hope she likes this. Pancakes are comforting, right? Don’t they call them hotcakes in England? No, that’s not true. Damn, I should have made some myself. Those smell really, really good. Eh, not worth more time in the kitchen.

“You didn’t have to make me this,” Jemma said after savoring a sip of the coffee. “I would’ve done just fine with some cereal, or a Pop Tart.”

Daisy shrugged. “I figured after the stressful night you had, fresh out of Terrigenesis, you deserved a treat.”

Jemma smiled. “Thank you very much.”

“No problem.”

When would be a good time to actually start talking? After she’s done eating? Probably, but what do I talk about until then? Feels weird to just watch her eat, but also feels weird to go into small talk. Like, “How are you doing?” Probably not great, actually. I know I wasn’t.

Jemma couldn’t help herself but to titter a bit through her sip of coffee. Part of her still felt bad for listening in, but Daisy’s mind was endearing. It wasn’t the warmth and reassurance of Fitz’s mind, but it was strangely comforting nevertheless, perhaps because Jemma recognized some aspects of her own train of thought.

“What?” Daisy asked.

“Daisy… are you neurodivergent in some way?” Jemma asked.

“Well… some of my foster parents took me to get tested for a whole lot of things, but I don’t remember or care how any of that turned out.”

“Fair enough. You do remember that I can still hear what you’re thinking, right?”

Shit, shit, shit, I thought I wasn’t thinking too much anymore. How do people get their brains to be quiet? Is that a thing people even can do? “Sorry.”

Jemma felt bad for listening in again when she saw Daisy’s face flush a bit. “No… I’m sorry.”

“You can’t help it.”

“I know. But I still feel horrible intruding.”

“Hey, hey. Don’t worry about whether you’re intruding on anybody right now. I know, and everybody else knows that you can’t help it right now. I just don’t wanna hurt you. I don’t care what you hear as long as it’s not too overwhelming.”

Jemma smiled at her. “When it’s just you, it’s not so bad.”

She figured she’d keep her own thoughts about Daisy’s thoughts being endearing to herself. That still felt a bit strange to say.

Daisy smiled back. “Good, because I’m probably gonna want a lot of one-on-one time with you to help you with this.”

Setting the tray down after finishing the pancakes, Jemma looked at her expectantly. “I suppose let’s start now then.”

Daisy dug into her pocket, pulling out a fidget cube and squeeze toy. “I want to get you something better than this, but this is what I found laying around.”

Jemma took the trinkets and eyed them curiously. “How am I supposed to use these?”

“Well, it might not help you control the mind reading yet, but what these will help you do is ground yourself. Give something else for your senses to focus on that isn’t everybody’s heads screaming at you. You’ll need that if you want to control these abilities. And to hopefully prevent any more coffee table books from being chucked into Coulson’s face.”

Jemma winced. “I’m so sorry for that.”

“It’s okay. No harm done. Let’s just sit in the silence for a bit. Play with those. Try and focus on what you’re doing with your hands instead of whatever is coming out of my head.”

“Alright.” Jemma nodded, looking at the toys. She tightened her grip on the squeeze toy for a moment, smiling to herself as the cartoonish eyes popped out.

Daisy’s thoughts were still a constant whisper. This will work, right? Of course it will. Don’t think like that.

But instead of focusing on that, Jemma did as Daisy told her and focused on her hands, the feeling of the toys she was holding. She squeezed the toy again. It was brilliant to touch with a smooth purple outside and soft inside. It was so easy to squish, and the urge to do it again and again was irresistible. She was no stranger to trinkets like this. When she’d first come to the academy, she always had one on hand. But she thought she outgrew the need for them and got rid of hers. It felt so childish to sit there playing with one again, but it did quickly remind her of why she enjoyed having them back then.

And that’s when she realized- she hadn’t been catching any of Daisy’s thoughts. The headache had faded.

“I think it’s working,” she said.

“Good,” Daisy responded. “Is it alright if Fitz comes in for a while now? He’s been anxious as hell all night.”

Jemma felt another pang of guilt at that, but tried to push it away. “Yes, please. I’d like to see him.”

Daisy left the cell with a smile, leaving Jemma alone once more, but in a significantly calmer state of mind. The process of getting these powers under control no longer seemed so daunting. She squeezed the toy a couple more times, just for fun.

She wasn’t alone for too long before Fitz appeared on the other side of the door. “Can I come in?”

Jemma beamed at the door and nodded. Fitz opened it up and slowly came in, sitting beside her in the bed.

Hope she’s alright. Wonder what she and Daisy were talking about. She seems to be looking better…

Like she did with Daisy, Jemma squeezed the toy a few times, focusing on the softness in her hands, until Fitz’s thoughts painlessly fell to the back of her mind. He was still a comfort, but it was good to practice and it was good to avoid eavesdropping as best as she could.

“Feeling better?” he asked.

Jemma nodded again. “Feeling much better, yes.”

“Got some fidget toys there?”

She felt her face grow ever so slightly warm. “Daisy said they’d help me ground myself.”

“You used to have those at the academy.”

“I know.” She breathed out a laugh. “I can’t help but feel like a little girl again.”

“Adults can have those, too. They do all the time. Think I don’t need to stim once in a while?”

“I suppose.”

Jemma felt warmth on her back as Fitz wrapped an arm around her. She gladly accepted it and snuggled up against him, laying her head on his shoulder.

“Besides,” Fitz said, “I think it’s adorable.”

Chapter Text

A few days had passed since Jemma went through her Terrigenesis, though it was hard to believe it had been that short of a time. Just days ago, she was living a normal life (as normal of a life as a SHIELD agent could live, anyway), working in the lab, sorting through the mess of the whole situation in the Afterlife. Now, spending her days in a holding cell, isolated from most of her fellow agents aside from Fitz and Daisy, and slowly, slowly learning to control her powers was her new normal. She hadn’t made much progress since Daisy gave her the fidgets to help the streams of thoughts feel less overwhelming, but she was also very nervous to go any further than that and very thankful Daisy was going at her pace. Still, Jemma knew she needed to gather up that courage to move forward at some point, preferably sooner rather than later. She couldn’t stay holed up in the holding cell forever, especially with work in the lab surely piling up.

Then one evening, Fitz came to the door of the cell with a big smile on his face, one that Jemma took great joy in seeing.

“Hey, mind if I come in?” he asked.

“Of course.” Jemma matched his grin.

As he opened the door and stepped in, Jemma noted that he looked a bit unusually dressed up. He wasn’t in a suit, but he wore what looked like a brand new white button up much nicer than his usual wear, though with the sleeves rolled up showing off his arms, tucked into a pair of slacks. Tying together his ensemble was a little red bowtie that would make the Eleventh Doctor proud.

The two of them sat on the couch, and Jemma took out a fidget cube, absentmindedly pressing a button on it a few times. Curious as she was, she tried not to dig into Fitz’s mind to investigate, though the surface level thoughts that she could sense were as sweet as his smile was, almost sounding like music. Subconsciously, her taps on the fidget cube matched up to the beat of a song only she could hear.

“What’s got you dressed to the nines?” she asked.

“Well, I figured, if you’re comfortable, I could take you on a bit of a field trip out of here.”

Jemma tapped on the cube a little faster, the music starting to fade. “Fitz…”

“I know, I know. Don’t worry, me and Daisy, we’ve made sure no one else is around. And she thinks it’s a good idea.”

“Well…” Jemma sighed out, thinking on it for a moment while still tapping at the fidget cube, “I suppose it would be nice to look at something other than the walls of a holding cell for a change. I don’t have to dress up, do I?” She looked down at her lovely, but plain jumper that wasn’t nearly as nice as what Fitz was wearing.

Fitz’s hand went down the sleeve of that jumper until it rested on top of her hand. “You’re beautiful, Jemma, no matter what you’re wearing.”

A fantastic upside to this power was that Jemma knew that he meant that with his whole heart. That alone, for the first time since her Terrigenesis, made what initially felt like a curse suddenly feel like a blessing. To be sitting next to a person she loved dearly and feel how deeply fond he was of her. To feel that she was loved. The music returned, and it was a song she could listen to all day.

She held his hand back. “Then lead the way.”

The anxious fidgeting continued to an extent as Fitz led Jemma out of the holding cell. The last time she walked through these halls, it was when she was guided by Coulson and Daisy into the cell while hazily recovering from a meltdown. It almost activated her fight-or-flight response, even though she’d walked through the Playground countless times before Terrigenesis and there was, as Fitz promised, no one around.

Despite that, she could still hear the music from Fitz’s mind, and found herself sinking into it more and more, her nervous fidgeting once again finding a soft, almost danceable beat. A few soft, hazy images faded in, of the table in the lounge decorated with a tablecloth with a bottle of wine at the center, plates of food…

“You’re taking me to dinner," she blurted out.

Fitz grumbled a little and shook his head, some disappointment creeping in over the music. “Goddamn bloody mind reading…” he muttered.

“I’m sorry.” Jemma apologetically smiled. “I’m assuming that was meant to be a surprise?”

He chuckled. “Yea, I was hoping I could, I dunno, think of… something else louder.”

“If it helps, I wasn’t expecting you to take me out of the cell today, so it’s still technically a surprise.”

“Yea, I suppose it is.”

Of course, Jemma felt bad for ruining the surprise, but she couldn’t feel bad for too long. She could tell it wasn’t breaking Fitz’s spirits, so she opted to not let it break hers, either. They were overdue for the dinner date he’d wanted to take her on, after all.

Eventually, they reached the Playground’s completely empty lounge, the table at the center looking exactly as it did in Fitz’s mind with a radio playing soft, ambient music and the savory smell of freshly cooked food filling the air. Like the gentleman he was, Fitz pulled one of the two large chairs placed next to the table and motioned for her to take a seat with a gentle smile on his face. Jemma gladly did so, watching as he grabbed the bottle of wine at the center of the table, struggled for a moment to pop the cork, and filled her glass, spilling a couple drops onto the tablecloth. A twinge of embarrassment hit his thoughts (though externally, he coolly moved forward and filled his own glass as if nothing happened), but Jemma didn’t mind at all.

After both their glasses were full, Fitz raised his, and Jemma clinked hers against it before they both drank. It wasn’t exactly the fanciest or nicest tasting wine, definitely not akin to what they would have gotten at a high class restaurant, but Jemma still savored it. She was out of the holding cell, alone with her best friend, crush, potential romantic partner, whatever he was. The specifics of that didn’t matter, either. She liked being with him, hearing the melody coming from his mind.

For a moment, she pondered on that. Having silence and solitude in the cell was better than hearing every bloody SHIELD agent’s thoughts at once, but having Fitz around was much better than silence. Having Daisy around felt the same way. Both of them were sources of warmth and music. What would she ever do without them?

The music playing on the radio swelled, breaking Jemma out of her own thoughts and causing her to remember that there was, in fact, a different source of music other than Fitz’s brain. Any other night, she would have found it decently pleasant, but at that moment, it felt like noise. Noise that drowned out the melody she actually wanted to hear. With an annoyed frown, she turned the radio off.

“Sorry, was that-” Fitz stammered. “Uh, I thought it was…” Was it too loud? Is it too much to hear both that and me? Am I thinking too loud? Was it just an annoying song? Daisy told me it was, but I thought Jemma liked-

“No, no, you’re fine, Fitz,” Jemma answered the questions he was thinking.

“Not, uh, not too loud or anything? In my head?”

“No.” Jemma shook her head. You’re perfect, she thought, though she couldn’t quite bring herself to say it.

Fitz’s face turned a slight shade of pink. “Wow, thanks.”

Jemma stared at him wide-eyed. Did she say that out loud?

Fitz stared back equally incredulously. “Did you… not say that out loud?”

“I… what were you responding to?”

“You- you said I was-” ...perfect.

“Oh!” So I did say that out loud?

“Apparently.”

Jemma’s mouth fell open. She knew she didn’t say that out loud.

“You didn’t?”

Surprised as she was, the pieces were falling into place. She couldn’t just hear others’ thoughts, but…

“I think… part of these new powers involves the ability to telepathically communicate.”

“Really?” Fitz responded with interest. “I suppose that makes sense, doesn’t it?”

Jemma giggled and nodded, feeling some level of excitement rather than fear for her powers for the first time. She felt like she did when she was a little girl learning advanced algebra for the first time, or when she managed to memorize the periodic table all the way up to the lanthanides, eager to show off to her parents and classmates.

“Let’s test it,” she said out loud, before looking Fitz in the eyes and thinking with full intention, focusing on him, ”Can you hear this?”

Fitz nodded, still wide-eyed and slack-jawed.. ”And you can hear this?”

Jemma nodded back, grinning ear to ear. ”Fitz, this is amazing. We can communicate with each other in our heads.”

Fitz’s shock visibly began to subside as a smile slowly fell across his face, too. ”I have to admit, that is pretty cool.”

”This will be so useful when we’re on stealth missions.”

”Oh, well- A mental image played in Fitz’s mind of the two of them having a secret conversation during a team meeting. ”Yea, stealth missions."

Jemma considered that mental image and nodded. ”Oh, that, too. Just like when we used to pass notes to each other at the academy!”

”Yea, except we can’t get yelled at for this.”

”Do you think Coulson would be able to tell?”

”May probably would, somehow. I’m not entirely convinced she can’t read minds herself, if I’m being honest.”

”That is true.” Jemma considered the two of them during a meeting, staring at each other and smiling and nodding to things no one else could hear. She figured with amusement that they were doing the same now. ”God, if anyone came in right now and saw us, we’d probably look mad.”

Fitz breathed out a short laugh. ”Oh, definitely. We’ll have to practice our poker faces if we ever want to do this in front of anyone else.”

”Especially May.”

”Yea, especially May.”

The two shared a laugh before taking more sips from their wine, and the telepathic conversation faded into the melody that was Fitz’s natural internal monologue. Jemma let it wash over her for a moment, not prying into it or focusing on any specific thing he was thinking about, but not drowning it out, either.

I like this, she thought, not with full intention to mentally say it to him, necessarily, but still hoping he would hear it. Being with you, hearing you.

She was thankful he did hear it as he responded. ”I’m not hurting you or anything?”

”No. Not when it’s just us. It’s like… It was her turn to blush. ”It’s like music.”

”Really? My silly ol’ thoughts are music, huh?”

”They are to me.”

Fitz looked down at the table somewhat bashfully. ”Never thought that would ever be the case. Especially after…”

He didn’t need to outright think it. The sudden sour note of his music said enough, along with the flashes of hospital beds and pill bottles. Jemma, in turn, saw him comatose again, remembered how she left him, and felt a sharp pang of guilt.

“I’m sorry,” she said out loud.

“It’s okay, Jemma.”

“No…” She spoke through her mind again, unsure if she’d be able to get the words out verbally. ”I left you behind when you needed help, and now I need help, and you’ve been there for me. You’ve been so kind…”

”Jemma…”

”I just feel like I don’t deserve this.”

”You deserve the world,” he immediately thought back, his mental voice clear as a bell. ”Nothing will change that for me, alright? You’re here now. And I’ll be here for you, no matter what.”

Jemma looked into his eyes once more, a beautiful ocean of blue she wanted to drown in. Once again, he meant every word of what he said. There was no doubt, no hard feelings, nothing that indicated that he held any of those actions against her. It still felt undeserved, but who was she to shut down his feelings?

“I’m sorry,” she said out loud again. “I trust you.”

“Stop apologizing,” Fitz responded. “Let’s enjoy dinner. Let’s have more fun with your shiny new telepathy, yea?”

”If you insist,” she thought, trying to smile away the remaining guilt. It felt so easy to talk to him in that way, much easier than any other aspect of her powers. ”What are we actually eating anyway?”

Fitz lifted a finger and walked over to the kitchen, the appetizing smell getting closer as he presented a tray with two plates on it, both decorated with a filet mignon, assorted vegetables, and silverware wrapped in a napkin. He definitely didn’t slack with the presentation, which paid off, as it looked as good as it smelled. She was sure she would have been plenty happy even if he’d just thrown a bag of fast food in front of her, but she did greatly appreciate how much effort he was putting in, especially for her first meal outside of the holding cell in days.

After presenting the food, Fitz topped off both their wine glasses and the two clinked them together once again, drinking and enjoying the food. There wasn’t much more to say, out loud or mentally. They just enjoyed being in each other’s presence, Jemma softly tapping her foot in time to his melody that grew sweeter and softer as the evening went on.

The two of them walked arm in arm back to the holding cell. As much as it was an area of peace, quiet, and safety, Jemma almost didn’t want to go back. She would have loved to spend the whole night with the whole Playground to themselves, just her and Fitz, but she knew that that was impractical.

“Thank you very much,” she said as they stood in front of the entry to the cell. “This was nice.”

“I’m glad,” Fitz responded. There was something else on his mind that she could sense even before he spoke it aloud. “Um… there’s- there’s no rush to answer this, I- I know you’ve got a lot on your mind, but, uh…” His stammering was made a lot clearer by the internal monologue driving it. What are we? No, that’s not how I should put it… But what are we?

”I don’t know,” she said in his head, fidgeting with her hands. ”I know that I like you, very much, and that being around you is wonderful.”

To her own surprise, she suddenly thought of Daisy and her own rapid-fire stream of thoughts that delightfully contrasted with the gentle way she guided Jemma through her powers. She wasn’t sure why that was pushing its way to the front of her brain. Were Daisy’s thoughts musical, too?

No, she couldn’t think about Daisy. Fitz was the one with her, and his internal questions were valid. What were they, indeed?

“I’d like to do this again,” Jemma said, as she was sure of that at the very least. “Maybe when I have these silly Inhuman powers figured out a little more.” She looked into those blue eyes again and smiled. “You do mean the world to me, Fitz. No matter where things go, I want you to know that.”

His anxious, unsure train of thought calmed down into something more melodic once again. “You know I feel the same way.”

“Of course.” With some hesitation, she followed an impulse and gave him a kiss on the cheek, watching his face turn red again. “Goodnight.”

She kissed me, she just kissed me- “Uh, yea, goodnight. See you tomorrow.”

He opened the door to the holding cell, replaying the cheek kiss in his head, and let Jemma go inside. Feeling light on her feet, she collapsed on her bed and smiled to herself, feeling once again like an excited young girl.

Chapter Text

The morning after the dinner with Fitz, Jemma was still riding the high of both the time she spent with him and her newfound telepathic abilities. It was the first time she'd been genuinely excited about her powers in any way. That mental space she'd opened up with Fitz reminded her of their days at the Academy, sneaking into each other's dorms with snacks and soda to watch movies, hash out experiments, and just talk about the things teenagers talked about until the sun peeked through the window, no one bothering them all the while. She hadn’t had that kind of space with him or with anyone for so long, not with the same young, innocent excitement those moments carried during their adolescence, anyway.

She woke up that morning longing to open up that space again. The very notion that she wanted to use her Inhuman powers in any way was strange in a pleasant way. It made this existence feel not only liveable, but exciting.

Which is why when Jemma saw Daisy's friendly face at the other side of the door, she felt a rush of excitement that sent her out of her bed and bounding eagerly to the door.

"You must've had a good time with Fitz last night," Daisy said.

"Yes, I did," Jemma responded, before projecting into Daisy's mind, "And I discovered something."

For a split second, she felt a pang of worry that it didn't work, and that she would just be staring awkwardly into Daisy's eyes with an unsent message. But something shifted in Daisy's face, a look of confusion as her eyes darted between Jemma's unmoving lips and her eyes.

"Did you just..."

"Talk into your head? Yes I did."

"Wait, that's actually cool as hell." An excited smirk fell across Daisy's face, and the mix of her awe and Jemma's own pride made her heart flutter. "You found that out while you were with Fitz last night?"

"Yes, and by accident, too." Jemma said mentally, wishing to use this power even more with Daisy, "We talked like this for a long time. I can hear you respond, too."

Daisy looked back at her for a moment, considering that. "So... can you hear... this?"

Her response was a bit more stilted than Fitz's were, likely still navigating how to mentally "speak" rather than just think. Jemma chuckled a little at that.

"Yes, I can."

"This is so cool." The way that statement was hastily mentally whispered made Jemma unsure if it was an intentional response from Daisy or just an off-the-cuff thought, but she enjoyed hearing it nevertheless.

Other thoughts followed in quick succession, feelings of pride towards Jemma, happiness that Daisy was privy to such telepathic communication, relief that there was progress. Jemma, despite her reservations about snooping into people's thoughts, let it all in. Daisy's thoughts were intoxicatingly electric, fast-paced but comfortable, like the invigorating hustle of a busy day in the lab when finals were approaching at the academy.

As Daisy's consciousness continued to stream into Jemma's, Jemma's heart began to beat faster as a wave of... something swept over her. She couldn't quite tell what that something was, if it was coming from herself, Daisy, or both, but it was both overwhelming and intoxicating, like the rush of a high from a stimulant, almost knocking the wind out of her.

"I'm happy you're getting more comfortable with your powers," Daisy said out loud, bringing Jemma down from that high as a twinge of discomfort suddenly marred her stream of consciousness ever so slightly, "but I do have news you might not be too thrilled about. May and Garner are back."

"Why would that be unfortunate news?" Jemma asked, feigning ignorance. She could have never been unhappy at May returning, truly, and she valued Garner, too, but she could tell before Daisy even said anything why his return, in particular, would be daunting.

"Garner wants to talk to you," Daisy said. "And it is important, but I know how I feel when I'm on his couch and he's psychoanalyzing me, and while you have been making progress..."

She took a deep breath, considering her words. Jemma tried not to peer in too much, but she could get a hint of what Daisy was thinking.

"I haven't even left the bloody cell since my Terrigenesis," Jemma finished her sentence.

"Which is fine," Daisy immediately said. "God knows it took me a long time to adjust to my own powers and not quake everything around me. I just don't know if you're in a good place to have your brain poked at right now."

"Which is exactly why I need to talk to him."

Daisy slowly nodded. "Yes. It just might not be fun."

Jemma shrugged. "The things we need never are."

"Tell me about it."

Flashes of the Afterlife passed through Daisy's mind, the image of her father standing over her mother... Jemma shook her head and pulled out one of the trusty fidgets, trying not to hear or see anymore of that.

"But you don't have to worry about that yet," Daisy continued. "For now, how about we just eat some breakfast and you can use your head talk-y powers on me for a bit?"

Jemma couldn't help but smile. The joy at the prospect of hearing more of Daisy's electric mind and opening that secret little mental space up to her outweighed the anxiety.

"Of course."

They sat in Jemma's bed together, talking about both nothing and everything, just like she liked to do with Fitz.

As Daisy had guessed, Jemma never liked speaking to psychologists or therapists much. She saw their worth, of course, and knew that it was good for everyone to keep their mental health in check, and she deeply respected Dr. Garner as a professional in his field, but the idea of anyone knowing her brain better than she did herself made her anxious. Talking about and addressing her problems also made her anxious, even though she logically knew that this was unhealthy and irrational. And her newfound status as an Inhuman was, even to her friend and ally, a problem she was especially anxious about discussing.

“Of all the Inhumans I’d be talking to in the coming months,” Garner said, looking into her eyes through the window of the pod with a soft smile, “you were the last person I would’ve expected to be one.”

“I suppose that makes two of us,” Jemma responded quietly, pulling out one of the fidgets.

“I can imagine it’s been a difficult adjustment for you.”

As much as Jemma wanted to downplay it, she knew she couldn’t, so she nodded. “I may have had a bit of a meltdown in Coulson’s office and just about telekinetically destroyed it.”

“So I’ve been told. That was a little over a week ago, though. How have you been doing since?”

“Staying in here, for the most part. Sure, it gets boring, but it’s comfortable enough, and Fitz and Daisy both visit a lot, and Daisy has been helping me.”

“How’s that been going?”

“It’s been going…” The tight, painted smile Jemma was holding fell. “It’s been… stagnant, I will admit. But it has only been a little over a week.”

“I understand. You can’t rush.” Garner jotted something down on his clipboard and studied it for a moment. “You are formally diagnosed as being on the autism spectrum, correct?”

“Yes, during my first year at the SHIELD Academy. They initially gave me the diagnosis of ‘Asperger’s Syndrome’, but I’ve long rejected that eugenics and Nazism-rooted terminology and the scientific world is doing the same.” Jemma knew she was rambling, but it felt nice to talk about a subject she knew rather than the intangible subject that was her feelings and emotional state to a therapist. “But it doesn’t and never has affected my capability as a SHIELD agent or scientist, nor does it have any bearing on-”

“I know it doesn’t,” Garner politely cut her off. “But I can see how already existing sensitivity to sensory stimuli might be aggravated by suddenly being able to hear other people’s thoughts.”

“I suppose that’s true, though I would think this would drive anyone crazy whether they’re autistic or not.” Jemma held up the little fidget cube she was playing with. “But it does mean I already know the benefits of stimming, and it does help.”

Garner acknowledged the toy with a nod. “That is good. Have you been out of the cell, talked to anyone other than Daisy or Fitz to see if it helps in those situations?”

“I’ve been a bit nervous to, if I’m being honest. Daisy has been encouraging me to go at my own pace.” Jemma frowned. “I’m just… not sure how long ‘my own pace’ will be. Fitz took me out of the cell last night, but that was with no one else around.”

“Taking the courage to do that is a step forward, even if there wasn’t anyone else around. I won’t make you tell me the details of what you and Fitz did outside of the cell-” Garner flashed a bit of a smirk- “but did anything happen in regards to your powers?”

Jemma perked up, feeling a little buzz of excitement. “Yes, actually. I found out I can telepathically communicate.”

“Really? And this was an ability you could control?”

“Much better than the telekinesis and mind reading, yes. I discovered it by accident, but it felt so… natural to be able to do it with Fitz.”

“Things like this are still progress, even if it doesn’t feel like it.” Garner found her nervously darting eyes and looked into them. “But… I would like to try something. I don’t want to force it, so feel free to say no.”

“What is it?”

“I would like to let you out of the containment pod. Talk to me face to face for a moment.”

Jemma felt her anxiety spike as her heart beat fast. “Why?”

“Because I think small little breaks out of the comfort zone you’ve made in here could help you. I won’t force it, and if you feel overwhelmed, you can step right back in, but I just want to try it. Use your grounding methods, see if it works when it’s not someone you’ve been seeing every day since this happened.”

This was exactly what Jemma was afraid of, why she’d felt so much anxiety since he arrived. But the reason she was so afraid he’d want her to do this was because she knew she needed it, and she knew he knew she needed it. She’d never make any progress staying in her cell, isolating herself from everyone. She loved Daisy and Fitz, but she missed her other friends. She hadn’t even been able to see how Bobbi was doing after her surgeries.

“Okay,” she said softly.

“Okay?” Garner repeated.

Jemma nodded, clutching the fidget cube tight in one hand and fiddling with the strings of the hoodie she was wearing with the other. She took a breath as Garner fiddled with the lock on the entrance to the pod. I can go back in if I’m uncomfortable, she reminded herself. There’s nothing to be afraid of.

The door opened. Garner stood right outside, waiting for her. Immediately, her head was filled with a dull, but prominent buzz. The patience and calm she felt emanating from him was reassuring, but the drone of thought after thought, psychological term after psychological term, flashes of her, flashes of Daisy, flashes of various psychology students he taught, immediately caused Jemma’s head to ache. She thought she even saw a shadow of May burned somewhere into the back of his mind, like the afterimage one sees after they look at a bright light, and the intangible tension that tinged that afterimage put a slightly ill feeling in her stomach.

Taking a few steps forward, avoiding looking Garner in the eye and fighting the urge to cover her ears (though she knew it wouldn’t help), she tapped away at buttons on her fidget and focused on both that and the breaths she slowly drew into her lungs. The thoughts faded into much more tolerable and much less audible background noise, but the moment she took any modicum of attention off of her breathing and her fidgeting, it got louder again. Why was this so much harder with Garner than it was with Daisy or Fitz?

“How do you feel?” he asked out loud, his words echoed by a slurry of thoughts that forced their way into Jemma’s head the moment she broke her focus to listen to his words.

Jemma initially tried to open her mouth to verbally respond, but couldn’t bring herself to, every attempt to formulate words just making the ones in Garner’s mind louder and louder. Instead, she quickly shook her head and slunk back into the containment pod. Thankfully, Garner didn’t attempt to coax her back out and simply closed the door, dissipating the noise in an instant.

“I’m sorry,” she reflexively said.

“That’s okay.” Garner smiled. “I understand.”

“I must say, it’s an interesting experience to be able to hear your therapist’s thoughts.” Jemma tried to laugh, but it came out far more awkward than intended.

“I’m sure it is. It’d probably make my job easier if I could hear my patients’ thoughts, but I suppose that would also be a little uncomfortable.”

“The book with the Terrigen mist almost went to you. You could’ve ended up in a mess like this instead.”

“I guess you never know. I’m just glad it didn’t turn either of us into dust.”

Jemma tightly smiled through a sigh. That was just about the only positive thing she could say about this experience.

“I suppose I’ll let you be,” Garner continued, “but I would like to follow up with you.”

“Well, my schedule for appointments is currently wide open.”

“I’ll find you when you’re feeling up to it,” Garner responded. “Take care. Goodbye, Jemma.”

Jemma waved as he left, then collapsed into the bed of the containment pod. Whatever excitement she had left over her telepathic communication abilities went up in smoke. She’d never be able to use them with anyone at this rate. Once again, everything felt utterly hopeless.

“Needless to say, Simmons is far from ready to be part of your Secret Warriors,” Garner said to Daisy.

“Well, yea, you don’t need a psych degree to figure that out,” Daisy replied. “But how is she, like, generally speaking?”

“Generally speaking, she’s nervous, anxious, terrified of being around anyone other than you or Fitz without a barrier in between.”

“Can’t say I blame her.”

“Neither can I. But I do think there’s something that could help, and she might respond to it better with you than with me.”

“What is it?”

“You do know she discovered a new aspect of her powers? The ability to talk to people in their heads?”

“Oh, yea!” Daisy smiled a little, remembering how excited Simmons was about that. “She was happy. It was the first time I’d seen her excited about her powers.”

“And she discovered it while she was out of that holding cell, with Fitz.”

“Yea,” Daisy repeated. Being with Fitz did noticeably help Simmons a lot; it’s exactly why Daisy helped orchestrate that. Was that the solution? Being with Fitz more?

Did she help Simmons in any similar way? A part of her hoped she did, but she knew it didn’t matter. She’d do whatever she needed to do.

“So, what does that mean?” she asked.

“She needs to be taken out of her comfort zone more,” Garner answered. “I got her out of the containment pod, in range of me, for a couple seconds, but she went right back in.”

“The little fidget toys didn’t help?”

“Not enough. Not yet. She will get better, she will learn to keep this under control, just like you did.”

“But she needs to be around other people to learn to control it.” Daisy remembered what she learned in the Afterlife. How she learned to control her own powers after she let herself feel the vibrations in the earth that they manipulated. If Simmons learned to channel her mind reading abilities into a method of communication, that certainly meant something similar was starting to happen.

“That’s right,” Garner said. “Around other people, out of the cell, anything. Even if it’s just you and Fitz being in there at the same time instead of visiting separately, or both of you walking her around the base. Still go at her speed, of course, but it’s something to consider.”

“Well…” Daisy considered what Garner was saying. “I guess me and Fitz have some field trips to plan.”