She had always loved fairy tales.

After all, they were the first stories she'd heard while growing up, curled up into her father's side as he lulled her to sleep with tales of magic, far-off lands, damsels in distress, and handsome princes who came to the rescue in the nick of time.

As she grew older, she had become more and more disillusioned with the unrealistic expectations presented in those stories, choosing instead to immerse herself in the magic of atoms and enzymes, fascinated with the intricate workings of the universe and the human body. She always kept those first stories close to her heart, though, and even had a worn copy of Grimm's Fairy Tales tucked away in her bookshelf on the Bus.

But as she looked down at her friend, a girl she had only just begun to get close to, she couldn't help but be reminded of Snow White, kept in the in-between of life and death under the glass of the hyperbaric chamber. The comparison was only made worse by the hovering drone inches from her face, scanning Skye's vitals. It had been Fitz's idea to use one of the D.W.A.R.F.s to monitor Skye, and Doc was busily inputting her electrolyte and glucose levels, core temperature, and most importantly, her complete blood count. Time was crucial at this point, and Jemma didn't want to waste any on unnecessary testing before getting her into surgery.

They worked in silence, Fitz compiling the data for the hospital, and Jemma studiously monitoring the pressure and temperature of the chamber. She could feel Fitz's eyes boring into the back of her head, and knew he was monitoring her almost as much as he was Skye.

It hadn't taken her long to regain her composure after allowing herself to cry in Fitz's arms. She had allowed him to clean the blood off of her hands and face, and even consented to changing out of her stained clothes before resuming her position next to Skye. But Fitz had been relentless.

"Jemma, you need to rest."

"Not now, Fitz."

"We're not going to get there for another hour. I can watch Skye. Please, Jemma. You're going to need your energy."

"I'm fine, Fitz."

He gently grabbed her wrist and willed her to face him. She knew before she even looked in his eyes what he was going to say.

"Like hell you are."

"Fitz, I promise when this is all over, I will rest. But right now, Skye is all that matters. I have to stay here and make sure she doesn't-" She stopped herself, fighting down the hysteria. She couldn't afford another breakdown. Skye needed her. Fitz took hold of her hand and gave it a small squeeze, letting her know he understood.

"I'll stay with you then." She didn't trust herself to look at him, but she gave a small nod in thanks. He released her hand after another squeeze.

"What do you need?"

They had busily set to work preparing all the paperwork and logistical aspects of getting the hyperbaric chamber out of the Bus when they arrived, and Fitz had had his idea to use Doc to record Skye's vitals. Jemma relished in the busy work, fighting down the panic she felt rising in her chest. When everything had been completed and all she had to do was wait, she found herself wiping down the chamber with disinfectant. It was pretty unnecessary, considering the chamber wasn't actually dirty and Skye's highest chance of infection was from the open wounds in her abdomen. But it was something to do.

Her hands had stilled when she heard Doc whirring, and the image of Snow White had popped in her head. She inwardly cursed herself for the analogy, and was thankful she had nothing in her stomach to make her sick. She had been avoiding looking at Skye's face for the past hour, but her momentary lapse in control brought her gaze to the hacker's peaceful countenance. Jemma thought that if it weren't for the blood, she almost could be Snow White. She certainly was beautiful enough.

Doc's whirring slowed and she heard Fitz put the D.W.A.R.F. back in its case. She felt his elbow brush up against hers and knew he was seeking strength in her presence almost as much as she was his. They both looked down at Skye, and Jemma wondered how it was possible that in such a short amount of time, they had grown so close to this girl. She and Fitz had had friends at the Academy, sure, but none had made quite the impact that Skye had. She was an honorary part of their family now.

Jemma ached to talk to Fitz about what had happened on the train after she had been hit with the dendrotoxin grenade. He was the last member of the team Skye had talked to before she'd been shot, and Jemma knew that he was inwardly beating himself up for it. Fitz had been worrying her lately, snapping at her more often than usual when they bickered, spending more and more time tinkering with his inventions in the lab, barely sleeping. Something was bothering him, and whatever happened with Skye seemed to have made it worse. Yes, she needed to talk to him, but it would have to wait.

Coulson entered the room, interrupting her swirling thoughts. She and Fitz looked up at the same time. He had been on the phone for the last hour making sure the small S.H.I.E.L.D. medical facility was ready for their arrival. Jemma would have preferred to bring Skye to the more equipped facility in London, but Skye's condition was too critical to last another hour.

"We'll be landing in five minutes. Is everything ready?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good." He nodded and left the room.

Fitz sighed and turned to face his partner. "Are you ready for this, Jem?"

She put on her best brave face and nodded up at him. "Of course." She offered a small smile that she knew he didn't buy but he gave her an encouraging nod in return.

As soon as they landed it was utter chaos. Jemma tried to make herself heard over the noise as paramedics rushed the hyperbaric chamber into the hospital, followed closely by Coulson, Ward, and Fitz. She matched the pace of the doctor in charge of Skye's surgery, and indicated on the tablet the information Doc had retrieved. As they came to a door marked "AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY" the doctor nodded to one of the paramedics, who grabbed the tablet out of Jemma's hands and made his way through the doors.

"Hey! Be careful with that – it's got a sensitive interface!" Jemma ignored Fitz's complaints as she made her way to enter the door. The doctor turned around and placed a hand on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, but only Level 7s past this point."

Jemma felt her head spin.

"What? No, she's the only reason that that girl is still alive. You need her in there. I'm Level 8, and I am ordering you to let Agent Simmons go through those doors." Coulson sounded livid.

"I'm sorry, Agent Coulson, but my orders were strictly to forbid anyone under Level 7 to come into this operation."

"Oh, yeah? And who gave you those orders?"

The doctor looked uncomfortable. "Director Fury, sir."

There was a brief pause as everyone let this information sink in. Director Fury? How did he know what was going on? And why was Skye's surgery so important to him? Coulson looked confused, and momentarily defeated.

"Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a life to save and very little time to do so." The doctor swiftly turned on her heel and headed through the doors. Coulson made to follow after her. He called over his shoulder, "Don't worry, Simmons. I'm going to do everything I can to get you in here."

The colors around her began to swirl and Jemma thought she might faint. She swayed on the spot and Fitz quickly put his arm around her to steady her.

"Hey, hey. It's going to be okay. You gave them all the information they needed to start the laparotomy right away."

"But who knows what they're doing with her in there? Something's not right here, Fitz." Jemma felt bile rising up in her throat as she considered all the possible things that could go wrong without her there to monitor the surgery. She suddenly felt her knees give out and was vaguely aware of strong arms catching her before she hit the ground.