Hey nonny! Thank you for the prompt, I hope you like it!
[send me an angst prompt + a ship]
Fitz had, what his therapist graciously called, abandonment trauma. It had started as a child, she said, with his father, and had grown with each event after. The brain injury he’d suffered had only exasperated it. On dark days, it was all he could focus on. He saw the door shutting behind his father, Jemma turning and leaving him when he needed him most, Jemma disappearing into the monolith. Jemma. Every time Jemma left felt like a bleeding wound torn open new.
“I’ve got to go,” Jemma said, packing her bag.
“Mack asked me to go check out something on site, do a little undercover work.”
“Jemma,” he said.
“I’ll be okay.”
“No, I know, that’s,” he said, and he tripped over his tongue with a growl. He hadn’t had that happen in a while, and that day had been hard for his brain. “You’re always leaving me.”
Jemma stopped, and turned to face him.
“How many times do I have to watch you walk away from me?”
“Fitz,” she said with a sigh. “We talked about this.”
“You talked, but I still have to stand by and watch you leave whenever something comes up, like you’re trying to get away from me.”
“That is not what this is.”
“No? Because it sure as hell seems like it to me.”
She set down the item she had been preparing forcefully.
“You’re still not over this cursed thing,” she said, trying for calm but the upset tremor in her voice betrayed it. “We are not cursed. I’m not leaving you because of some curse, Fitz. I have to go do my job.”
“It’s not just this. It’s not – it’s a recurring theme with us. It is always you walking away from me, leaving me behind, abandoning me when I needed you. I can’t keep doing this. Over and over.”
“I can’t do this right now,” she said, voice clipped. “I have to go do my job, and be in the field. So, if you don’t mind, we can argue about this later. Maybe when you’re feeling more reasonable.”
He scoffed, and didn’t flinch when she shot him an icy glare.
“I have to go,” she repeated, zipping her bag and shouldering it. “We’ll talk about this when I get back.”
She left, shutting the door with an angry click. Fitz closed his eyes and regretted it all immediately. He hadn’t told her that he loved her. She was going out into the field where anyone could hurt her, could betray her, and the last thing she could hear from him was that. If she never wanted to see him again when she got home, his insecurities finally too much, he would understand. He didn’t really want to be around himself, either.