[ It's complicated, he wants to say, but Markus has stood here for ages untangling this already. Too clever and too patient to ignore, not flinching away despite the most gruesome detail coming moments earlier. Complicated is an excuse like all the others. Either Ophelia shares the blame, or she doesn't. He rubs at his temple, considering. No, conceding. ]
I guess we both deserve the blame. [ but she's the one that everyone blames, so he makes a point to shoulder as much of it as he can. Hard to say if that's born of his instincts (and the undying loyalty) fostered in the Framework, when Fitz has always been inclined to blame himself the second anything he touches turns to rust. ]
Maybe if it was your first day feeling like that, [ a pleading look, head tilted to assess Markus' reaction. ] feeling everything without being able to compartmentalise or, or, or reflect, with too much power at your fingertips, fresh out of world where you were willing to kill for someone, and still ready to help him — to help me and save all my friends, even though I wanted something different now than I did in the Framework, you would — she did expect the same in return. [ what she had when they in the virtual was supposed to carry over, the same as the rest. The powers, the human body, the partner. ] Y'know, she chose me, [ gesturing between them. ] so I'm supposed to choose her, too.
[ his mouth thins, features caught in indecision. Should he feel guilty that he couldn't give that to her? Should he have been more careful, at least on day fucking one? He was a mess at the time, still reeling, and her actions after the fact aren't defensible, not even to him. ]
Only when she was talking about it, I thought she meant — I thought she meant she would understand if I chose my partner in this world 'cause Jemma — [ a noise of disbelief. AIDA absolutely read his file, knew his flaws and head inside and out, how could she not have accounted for the Jemma of it all? Telling, then, that his tone shifts, no longer uncertain, when he speaks about Jemma Simmons. If there's one thing he believes in, it's this. Her. ] — a love like ours has crossed galaxies and time and the bottom of the bloody Atlantic Ocean. [ he lifts his hands, as if helpless. ] S'not going away just because I've got a double life in my head.
[ He hadn't been sure the sentiment was shared, at first, only that his love wouldn't ever fade. Now, he knows she feels the same way. ]
So, when I said that, when I chose wrong, she went off. [ that, he doesn't blame himself for, though he frames it from her perspective and punctuates the statement by crashing his fist into his other hand. Again, a little bit of pain in his stitches. Noise, the slap of skin. Grounding and punishing. ] Started killing my coworkers and friends. [ a pause before the inevitable, gaze unflinching on Markus, even as he watches for flickers of emotion (judgment, unease) in his friend's face. ] We had to kill her first to keep the body count from climbing higher. [ and with finality — ] She's gone.
[ gone to wherever androids turned humans go, when they're burned in SHIELD bunker by inhuman hellfire. That's it. The whole of the truth, at least from Fitz's own perspective, tinged by his biases in the Framework and beyond it. ]
no subject
I guess we both deserve the blame. [ but she's the one that everyone blames, so he makes a point to shoulder as much of it as he can. Hard to say if that's born of his instincts (and the undying loyalty) fostered in the Framework, when Fitz has always been inclined to blame himself the second anything he touches turns to rust. ]
Maybe if it was your first day feeling like that, [ a pleading look, head tilted to assess Markus' reaction. ] feeling everything without being able to compartmentalise or, or, or reflect, with too much power at your fingertips, fresh out of world where you were willing to kill for someone, and still ready to help him — to help me and save all my friends, even though I wanted something different now than I did in the Framework, you would — she did expect the same in return. [ what she had when they in the virtual was supposed to carry over, the same as the rest. The powers, the human body, the partner. ] Y'know, she chose me, [ gesturing between them. ] so I'm supposed to choose her, too.
[ his mouth thins, features caught in indecision. Should he feel guilty that he couldn't give that to her? Should he have been more careful, at least on day fucking one? He was a mess at the time, still reeling, and her actions after the fact aren't defensible, not even to him. ]
Only when she was talking about it, I thought she meant — I thought she meant she would understand if I chose my partner in this world 'cause Jemma — [ a noise of disbelief. AIDA absolutely read his file, knew his flaws and head inside and out, how could she not have accounted for the Jemma of it all? Telling, then, that his tone shifts, no longer uncertain, when he speaks about Jemma Simmons. If there's one thing he believes in, it's this. Her. ] — a love like ours has crossed galaxies and time and the bottom of the bloody Atlantic Ocean. [ he lifts his hands, as if helpless. ] S'not going away just because I've got a double life in my head.
[ He hadn't been sure the sentiment was shared, at first, only that his love wouldn't ever fade. Now, he knows she feels the same way. ]
So, when I said that, when I chose wrong, she went off. [ that, he doesn't blame himself for, though he frames it from her perspective and punctuates the statement by crashing his fist into his other hand. Again, a little bit of pain in his stitches. Noise, the slap of skin. Grounding and punishing. ] Started killing my coworkers and friends. [ a pause before the inevitable, gaze unflinching on Markus, even as he watches for flickers of emotion (judgment, unease) in his friend's face. ] We had to kill her first to keep the body count from climbing higher. [ and with finality — ] She's gone.
[ gone to wherever androids turned humans go, when they're burned in SHIELD bunker by inhuman hellfire. That's it. The whole of the truth, at least from Fitz's own perspective, tinged by his biases in the Framework and beyond it. ]