Chapter Text
New Year's Eve 2007
"So now, I think I'm gonna go and make out with Professor Swanson."
"Sure, babe!"
Jemma rolled her eyes as Milton continued to spy on Dr. Stone's conversation and waited for the perfect moment to join in. There wouldn't be any as Dr Stone had made it perfectly clear to everyone –but Milton apparently– that he didn't like him.
"And I'll probably go to his cabin in the mountains for the rest of the holidays too. And we can talk about how you'll get a job in this department when pigs fly."
"Sounds good."
Jemma sighed, grabbed another glass of champagne from the bar and left Milton's side. It'd probably be another hour before he even noticed she was gone. She should never have brought him here. She should have known something was off when he'd suddenly asked her out a week before New Year's Eve after only vaguely flirting with her for two years without ever making a move. Of course, he'd heard she'd been invited to the faculty's New Year's Eve party. Like her, he would be graduating next spring, even though he was four years older, and he hadn't been shy about his hope of getting a job in the science department in the fall. Jemma would have been fine if he'd asked her out just not to be alone and have someone to kiss at midnight. That was pretty much why she had agreed in the first place. It was nice having a date for once and, even though she didn't like Milton all that much, he was attractive, despite what Fitz said, and it would have probably been nice to kiss him.
But no, that idiot had just come to network. And he did it very badly. At least, with the way he'd been ignoring her since ten minutes after they'd showed up here, she wouldn't have to be embarrassed being seen with him.
Jemma took a sip of her champagne and sighed. At least, that would never disappoint. She wasn't normally allowed to drink here in the US but no one was going to ask for IDs at a party where most people were old enough to be her grandparents.
Jemma had just found a place to sit at the back of the reception hall when Fitz walked back into the room. While his evening had started out better than hers –Celia seemed sincerely interested in him– his date had enjoyed the open bar a little too much and had ended up throwing up an hour before midnight. Fitz being the sweet boy that he was, he'd driven her back to her apartment and made sure she was hydrated. Jemma didn't think he'd be back before midnight, or at all really, but here he was with ten minutes to spare before midnight. He looked around for a moment before finding her and he smiled the moment their eyes met. Jemma's lips pulled up of their own volition in return. He looked so handsome tonight with the gray suit she'd helped him choose and his curls mostly tamed.
He made his way to her through the crowd of dancing and talking people and grabbed a nearby chair to sit right next to her with a sigh.
"Celia got home alright?"
"Yep. Where's cabbage head?"
Jemma chuckled –she didn't mind the nickname anymore– and nodded towards where Milton had managed to approach a very annoyed Dr. Stone.
"Idiot," Fitz just said and that little word somehow made her feel a little better.
She put her head on his shoulder and he shifted even closer so that he could wrap his arm around her shoulders. There was a little flutter in her heart at the gesture. Fitz was warm and more solid than he used to be. And his scent –a mix of his soap and the laundry detergent he loved so much his mum still sent it to him from Scotland– had become something she associated with home more than anything else in the years since they first met. She wrapped her arm around his waist and he let his head fall against hers. They remained like that for a long moment. She loved that wherever she was, if Fitz was here, they were always able to tune out everything and everyone else to be in their own little world. She really didn't need a date when she had the best best friend in the world.
Suddenly, people started counting down and they slowly, reluctantly, extricated themselves from their embrace just in time to ring in the new year.
"Happy New Year!" they said in unison with matching soft smiles before she leaned forward and pressed a kiss to Fitz's cheek. He wrapped his arms around her once more for a quick hug before seating back in his chair.
"Wanna dance?" he asked, turning to her after a minute.
"Do you?"
He laughed as he looked back towards the dance floor where quite a few of their very respected professors showed their...interesting dance moves.
He grinned as he looked back at her. "I actually do, yeah."
"You finally found your people."
"Deep down, I think I've always known I was a grumpy old drunk physics professor in the body of a young man."
Jemma burst out laughing but as funny as it was, it was also very true. He stood up and took her hand to help her up before offering his arm. She smiled at that. She did like his old man manners. They were really quite charming with the appearance of someone who still looked younger than his 19 years.
They got to the dance floor and started to dance a little shyly at first –it was still all their professors there– but with the music and champagne helping a bit, they soon started to really dance. Fitz did his weird move with his arms and grabbed her hand to make her twirl until she was dizzy and breathless with giddy laughter. Without them realizing it, two hours had passed when they decided to take a break.
Jemma slumped against the bar, quickly followed by Fitz. She was sweaty, her hair was a mess and her feet hurt like hell but she couldn't keep the smile off her face if her life depended on it. This was by far the most fun she had ever had at a New Year's Eve Party. Scratch that. At any party ever.
Fitz handed her a glass of water and she took it gratefully.
"Let's never bring a date to a New Year's Eve party ever again," she declared after downing the glass in one go. Fitz turned to her with raised eyebrows. "We go together and we have fun and we don't worry about having a stupid date."
Fitz's lips pulled up into a smile matching her own. "And I promise I will never ditch you for Dr. Stone."
"And I promise to never throw up on your shoes. Or anywhere else on your person."
Fitz put his hand on his chest. "Why would I need a date when you're saying such romantic things to me?"
Jemma giggled at that before affecting a more serious expression. "So?"
Fitz cleared his throat and affected the most serious face he could muster with his clothes looking so disheveled, and extended his hand. "I think we have a deal."
She shook his hand but didn't let it go as she pulled him back towards the dance floor. She had a feeling this was going to become a very good tradition. No matter how men disappointed her, she would always have her best friend Fitz to start the new year.
Five years later
"Happy New Year!" Fitz cried out as he engulfed Jemma in a hug. She laughed happily as she shouted the words somewhere against his skin. They remained like that for a moment before Jemma pulled back slightly and pressed a resounding kiss to his cheek.
The contact of her lips sent a little spark of electricity through him and made his cheeks grow hot. He should have gotten used to it. They'd been best friends for almost ten years and Jemma was an affectionate person. She always kissed him like that on New Year's Eve or when he did something really nice for her and yet, every time, he felt like a bloody teenager who had just been given his first kiss.
Not to mention the way she was pressed against him in the nice little black dress she was wearing. But he took a deep breath and tried to ignore it. He'd just been single for a while and Jemma was distractingly pretty tonight. That was all.
"Oh wait," she said, grinning as she grabbed his face in her hands.
"What are you–"
She turned his face to the left, ignoring his protest and started rubbing his cheek with her thumb.
"Simmons, will you stop—"
She swatted his hand away and continued rubbing his cheek. "I got lipstick on you. Let me take it off or do you want even more rumors to circulate about us?"
"What? What rumors?"
Apparently satisfied she'd removed all the lipstick from his cheek, she stepped back and gave him a disbelieving look.
"Fitz! We're spending all our time together and we're at this party together. I've even said no to a date tonight. Of course, there are rumors."
Fitz raised his eyebrows. "You did. You said no to a date? I mean you didn't have to if you wanted–"
"Of course I had to. We have a deal, remember?"
"I know but—"
"And I wanted to. Go with you I mean." Jemma's smile softened. "I'll always have a better time with you than with Jake and his symmetrical face."
"Ugh Jake!" Fitz let out with a fake gag. There was probably something to say about the fact that Fitz had always hated every guy Jemma had dated or even just been interested in. But tonight wasn't for self analysis, tonight was for partying.
"He's not that bad!" Jemma said, rolling her eyes. "But our deal has worked well for us these past five years, why change anything?"
Fitz nodded, a smile pulling at his lips at the memories of the past New Year's Eves they'd spent together. They had done informal evenings at the bar, a very formal party when, in their last semester in university, Jemma had become friends with someone Fitz was still convinced was some sort of royalty, and everything in between. They always had fun together and never brought a date, even when one of them was dating someone, which was somehow very rare when the end of the year was getting close. Fitz had come to anticipate these platonic dates with Jemma a lot more than the actual dates he'd had over the years. Which was...weird. But once more, tonight was for partying, not thinking.
A waiter walked by with a tray of champagne and Fitz grabbed two glasses, enjoying the way Jemma's eyes lit up at the sight of it. Jemma had changed a lot over the years. She was more confident and less awkward, her hair was shorter, her clothes more adult, but her love of champagne had never changed. And there seemed to be no lack of it tonight. The party held at SHIELD, the company they both worked for, wasn't quite as formal as the royalty one but it was still pretty fancy, especially since they were not only celebrating the new year but also the merging with REAL, another tech company (honestly, who thought of these names?).
"Wanna dance some more?" Jemma asked when Perfect from Ed Sheeran came through the speakers. Fitz raised his eyebrows. While he was at ease showing off his silly dance moves on pop music, he wasn't sure such a romantic song would help with his muddled feelings.
"Maybe drink your champagne first, I'm not—"
"Oh please, I love that song!"
"I don't want ruin my jacket, this suit cost more than—"
Before he had the time to finish, Jemma downed her glass in a few gulps, her face scrunching up as the bubbles went down her throat.
"Jemma!"
"Come on," she insisted, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the dance floor. Fitz sighed. He was powerless to resist her when she looked at him like that. He downed his champagne as well and they put their empty glasses on a tray just before reaching the crowd of dancing couples. Jemma wrapped her arms loosely around his neck and he put his hands on her waist as they started swaying to the music.
"You look very dashing tonight, you know."
"Dashing? I was going for devilishly handsome," he replied with a grin to hide the blush on his face at her compliment.
She rolled her eyes. "You couldn't do devilish, you look too sweet."
Fitz shook his head and in what he thought was a rather smooth gesture, grabbed her hand and made her twirl before pulling her back. She crashed back into him a little more harshly than he had expected —he suspected the champagne more than his strength was responsible— and she ended up in his arms, more hugging than dancing. His heartbeat picked up as he felt all her warm curves pressed against him. Honestly, why was he doing that to himself?
"You can try and be all Gomez, you're still sweet," she whispered into his ear before pulling back slightly.
"Fine. I suppose I'll be sweet."
A soft smile pulled at her lips. "Sweet and dashing. There were lots of looks directed at you tonight, you know? It wouldn't have been hard to get a date if you wanted to."
Fitz raised his eyebrows and she nodded. His lips pulled up into a devilish grin.
"Well, you should have told me earlier. I would have someone else to kiss at midnight," he said as he let go of her and pretended to look around for someone else. He could barely make a step away before she caught him and wrapped her arms tightly around his neck, forcing him to look down into her eyes. There was mischief there but he could swear there was also a hint of something else. Could it be jealousy?
"Don't you dare! You're mine tonight."
I don't deserve this
You look perfect tonight
Fitz sighed. Stupid singers and their stupid songs perfectly narrating people's lives.
"Always."
A few hours and several glasses of champagne later, Fitz followed a giggly, tipsy Jemma into the back of a cab. With Fitz living much closer to SHIELD, they'd agreed that Jemma would drive to his place and they could take a cab to the party and back together. Jemma had insisted that she could be reasonable and would probably be able to drive home straight away but Fitz knew better than to trust Jemma with champagne. So he'd changed the sheets and laid out some of his clothes she could sleep in and got a blanket and sheets so he could sleep on the couch. She would protest but he was a gentleman and he wouldn't let her sleep on his couch. And even if it was just her forcing them to drink electrolytes as they fell asleep on the couch watching slightly depressing New Year’s Eve TV, he liked the idea of having her to himself for a few more hours. As silly as it was given that they spent the better part of their waking hours together, he didn't want the night to end.
Jemma wrapped her arm around his and let her head fall on his shoulder with a happy sigh. Fitz turned his head to the side and got a whiff of her lavender shampoo. Being drunk wasn't making him quite as talkative as Jemma but it was making it very hard to ignore his stupid heart and the feelings that threatened to burst out of him every time Jemma smiled at him. He was trying not to be that guy and not to see every smile or affectionate touch as a proof of sexual or romantic interest but Jemma had been…different tonight. Ever since the disaster of five years ago, New Year's Eve had always been about each other so it was not weird for Jemma to be so close to him all evening but still, it had felt like she was almost flirty at times.
Fitz took another look down and saw that she had closed her eyes. She was wearing a lot more makeup than usual but you could still see her freckles under her dark lashes and his heart did a little somersault at the sight.
"Bloody hell," he muttered under his breath. He shouldn't be allowed to drink so much in her presence. She was his best friend and he was probably imagining it all.
"Wha'?" she mumbled sleepily.
"Nothing. Get back to sleep."
"'m not sleepy."
"Sure."
By the time they made it out of his elevator, she was indeed not sleepy anymore and Fitz couldn't resist making her twirl all the way down the corridor and into his apartment when she told him once more how much fun she had dancing with him. The little nap in the back of the cab seemed to have sobered her up a bit, bringing her back somewhere around 1 AM Jemma: tipsy but full of energy and mischief.
Once inside, they took off their heavy coats and scarves and Jemma sat on the couch to remove her black high heeled shoes while Fitz gratefully left his by the door and untied his bowtie. He started on his way to the kitchen to get them some water but was stopped in his tracks by the pouting expression on Jemma's face.
"Everything alright? Are you feeling sick?"
She shook her head. "You're just…" She stood up and came to stand in front of him. She was suddenly much shorter without her high heels. "You have no business looking so handsome at three in the morning when my makeup probably makes me look a fright."
"What? No, you look beaut—"
"Take it off!"
"What? Your makeup?"
"Take off your jacket. it's the suit, it's making you look too good. It's, it's…just take it off."
Before he had the time to say anything, she was pulling at his collar and Fitz's heart was jumping inside his chest.
"Are you insane? Just—" He swatted her hands away —he really didn't need Jemma undressing him now— and took off the jacket himself. "It's a really expensive jacket, don't rip it off!"
He folded the jacket delicately and put it on the back of the armchair to take care of it later.
"Alright, the jacket is off. Are you happy now?"
She shook her head and a soft, fond smile pulled at her lips.
"No, it's even worse but I suppose I'll have to live with it."
"And you look like a beautiful panda bear."
She gasped and swatted his arm as she laughed. It was true that the makeup around her eyes was a little smudged but it only made her hazel eyes stand out even more.
"Come on, off to bed before you try and take off more of my clothes," he said with a teasing grin as he grabbed her arm and pulled her towards the bedroom.
"Awww, no sad New Year's night TV before bed?"
"We can watch cheesy New Year's Eve movies tomorrow if you want."
"Alright I guess."
"Let me just grab a few things and you can have the room all to yourself."
"Fitz, I can sleep on the couch, you don't have to—"
"Jemma, don't fight me on that. You won't win."
She glared at him before shrugging her shoulders. "I would but my coordination isn't a hundred percent right now so I'll—"
Her foot chose this exact moment to catch onto the edge of the thick rug Fitz had recently bought so he wouldn't have to walk on cold tiles in the morning. He tried to catch her but his coordination not being exactly a hundred percent either, he lost balance and they would have probably ended up in a heap on the floor if it wasn't for the proximity of the wall. Instead, Fitz ended with his back to the wall and Jemma practically draped over him.
"Oops sorry, I suppose I'm a little bit tipsy."
Fitz laughed as Jemma righted herself by holding on to his shoulders.
"A little bit tipsy? Try completely pissed."
She rolled her eyes. "You don't get pissed on champagne."
"And you don't have to carry a tipsy person up the stairs."
Jemma squinted her eyes at him. Which would have been more impressive if she wasn't still standing so close and it made her cross her eyes a little.
And she was standing close. With her hands on his shoulders. It felt rather intimate and Fitz's heart started beating faster. Jemma must have noticed him notice it because her eyes went to her hands then down and back to look him in the eyes. She didn't move though.
"You didn't carry me, you helped me up the stairs because they were icy and I wasn't wearing the right shoes to walk on ice." He raised his eyebrows and her smile softened as she tilted her head to the side. "Because you're sweet like that."
"It's true. I'm a very good friend."
"The very best," she said, punctuating her words with a peck on his cheek and bringing her body even closer to his. How could she feel so warm despite always complaining about being cold?
"The bestest," he whispered back before pressing a kiss on her forehead. Bad idea. The lavender smell was intoxicating. And when he pulled back, he realized his hand had somehow landed on her waist. Probably for balance, but it wasn't like she needed it now with how tightly she was holding on to his shoulders.
"Now, who's drunk?" she whispered, close enough that he could feel her breath on the skin of his neck. The sound and sensation went straight to his groin and he had to bite back a groan. It was one thing to manage to hide the more than tender feelings coming to the surface whenever she did something sweet or smart or, well anything really, it was another to hide what she did to him when she insisted on remaining so close. "You can't even speak English properly now."
Fitz took a deep breath. "You're right. Which means I should really—"
"But you are the bestest," she cut him off and just as he was starting to move, she lifted herself up on her tiptoes and what was probably supposed to be another kiss on the cheek landed on the corner of his lips.
It felt like an electricity coursed through his body at the contact, shocking him but somehow making him feel more alive at the same time. Whatever it really was, she must have felt it too because she gasped and pulled back slightly. Fitz was about to blurt out whatever silly teasing about being drunk would come to mind to stop his body from lingering on the effect of such a short and light contact but the words died in his throat. Jemma had a look in her eyes he'd never seen before. At least not directed at him. Surprise and then determination mixed with something else. His hand on her waist tightened in response and her lips parted on a sigh. She was breathing faster and Fitz thought he might become hypnotized by the rapid rise and fall of her chest, by how it made the fabric of her dress look a little too tight for a moment every time and how some of her freckles only showed when her chest was rising. His fingers were itching to touch them.
This was insane. They were far from sober, as proven by how he was apparently incapable of taking his eyes away from her chest. He should take his hand away from her. He should…do something. And yet he couldn't find it in himself to move away.
"Jemma, I should take you…to…b–"
Her lips were on his and he was kissing her back before he really had the time to register what was happening. When he did, his arms were wound tight around her waist and she was arching against him to kiss him better. She was so warm and soft and yet he could feel every muscle in her body tensing as she kissed him with everything she had. Fitz had never doubted kissing Jemma would feel fantastic. But even in his wildest dreams, he had never expected her to be so passionate about it. The kiss had gone from gentle and tentative to almost desperate in a matter of seconds. He imagined her running an experiment in her head and he would have joked that he was flattered she'd come up with such a conclusion so quickly but he was just too turned on and overwhelmed to even consider breaking the kiss to talk.
Instead, Jemma let out a needy little moan against his lips and Fitz lost whatever control he had left. After years of ignoring his love for her, of trying not to notice how she became more and more beautiful with each passing year, of pretending he didn't die a little bit inside every time she went on a date with someone else, it all finally exploded over this one little sound. Jemma Simmons, his best friend, the most incredible person he knew and the woman he'd loved for longer than he liked to admit, wanted him.
Holding on tightly to her waist, he turned them around and pressed her against the wall, the proof of his arousal now evident against her hip.
"Fitz!" she let out in a gasp as their lips separated. She fisted the collar of his shirt and for a second, he thought she was pushing him back but instead she started attacking the buttons. She got them and the buttons on his vest open in record time for someone in her inebriated state while Fitz started kissing down her neck, pushing down the strap of her black dress as he went.
"Mmmh more!" That soft, breathy voice was going to be the death of him. Her hand slid down his back and closed on his bum, making his hips push against her of their own volition. She giggled at that and he retaliated by biting on the soft skin at his disposal. Her giggle turned to a whimper and he sucked on the skin some more until she grabbed his face and brought his lips back to hers. She kissed him hungrily, with her arms wrapped as tightly as she could around his neck, as if she wanted their bodies to fuse together. After a long moment, she pulled back just enough to whisper against his lips.
"You're right, Fitz. Time to take me to bed now."
He'd heard playful Jemma countless times before but never like that.
"Jemma?" he breathed out. "Are you—"
She kissed him, capturing his lower lip between hers for just a second and still managing to cover his entire body in goosebumps. "I'm not as drunk as you think I am."
She pushed at his shoulders and took his hand, her eyes on him almost black with lust but full of a determination he knew very well. She started towards the bedroom and he could only follow.
She stopped at the edge of his bed and reached behind her back. Then she pushed the straps of her dress down and it fell on the floor like Fitz thought only happened in movies. The dress revealed a matching black lacy ensemble and actual bloody stockings.
That was it. That was the most erotic moment of his entire life and nothing would ever top that.
His jaw must have actually dropped because a mischievous smile pulled at her lips and she let her eyes travel up and down his body before looking back at him and raising her eyebrows in a "what are you gonna do about it now?" look. This goddess was seeing him with most of his shirt off and for some reason, she liked what she was seeing. He would be insane to make her wait a second longer.
He grabbed her by the waist and pushed her backwards until she fell onto the bed with a cute little squeal and he followed right after. They kissed and moved and shifted, filling the air with moans and laughter until their clothes were spread out all around the room and he was on top of her, looking down into her eyes. One last time, he searched her eyes for any trace of hesitation but all he could see was desire and fondness in her hooded eyes. She nodded with a smile, answering his silent question, before parting her legs for him to settle in the cradle of her hips.
The first time, they made love in the soft light of the bedside table lamp. Fitz had meant it to be slow and gentle to take the time to commit it all to memory. But years of pent up emotions and desire made it desperate and frantic and no less incredible than he always thought it would be. The second time, he thought Jemma had already been drifting off to sleep but the simple touch of his finger along the curve of her breast and waist was enough to reawaken her desire. She took control this time and, bathed in the light of the full moon, Fitz thought she might actually be a goddess.
Finally, they settled under the covers in each other's arms. When Fitz looked into her smiling face before sleep overtook him entirely, he thought it was fitting that it was happening now. New years were for new beginnings, weren't they?
As he slowly regained consciousness and the light filtering through the windows hit his eyes, Fitz remembered just how much he'd drunk the previous night and groaned. It wasn't usually that bad because Jemma always made him drink a ton of water and electrolytes before going to bed. She was very annoying about that but he had to admit that—
Jemma!
He had sex with Jemma. They had sex. Together. Jemma even started it. Twice. And they had fallen asleep in each other's arms.
His frown turned into a smile as it all slowly sank in. He'd wanted to talk after but she'd been so sleepy and looked so peaceful in his arms that he'd decided not to bother her. And anyway, they usually spent New Year's day together. They'd have plenty of time to talk.
He turned around, hoping to find her on the other side but his arm was only met with a still slightly warm bed. He sat up in bed to look for a sign of her. Maybe she'd just gone to the loo or to the kitchen to—
She was getting dressed. Something contracted in his chest.
"Jemma?"
She startled and turned to him with a weird smile.
"It's alright, you can go back to sleep. I just need to go home and change."
"Oh. But I thought maybe we could have breakfast and uh...talk."
She gave up trying to put her stockings on and came to sit on the opposite side of the bed.
"There's clothes you can wear here if that's the—"
"I just…I think I need to be alone to think for a little bit."
Fitz thought he might be sick. Last night had felt like a dream and now…
"D-did I do something wrong? I'm sorry, I shouldn't have kissed you back. I should have resisted. I was weak because I've just been so—"
"You did nothing wrong," she cut him off with a gentle hand on his cheek. "What we did, we did together. I was drunk, yes but I knew what I was doing and I was certainly an enthusiastic participant."
"But do you… How do you feel about it now? Do you regret it?"
If she didn't feel the same or thought it was a one time thing, it would break his heart but he needed to know. He'd been pining over her for too long and if last night didn’t mean the same for her it did for him, he needed to know once and for all so that he could move on.
"No…I just...I don't know."
Fitz sat up straighter and moved away from her. There was hurt in her eyes for a second but then her lips pulled up into a tentative smile.
"We're best friends and you're the most important person in my life and I don't want to—" She sighed. "I just need to think for a little while. I'll call you, okay?"
Fitz took a deep breath. He was trying very hard not to blink. How could he go from happiness and hope to being on the verge of tears in a matter of minutes. Jemma shifted a little closer but didn't try to touch him again. His eyes fell onto the hickey he’d left on her neck and his chest constricted even more at the memory. The rush he’d felt when she moaned in pleasure at his touch and kisses. How would he survive knowing how it felt like to be with her while knowing he’d never be with her again.
"I swear you did nothing wrong. The party with you was wonderful as ever and then it was…" For a second there, Fitz thought he could see the kind of look he'd seen in her eyes the previous night. But then she was looking away and the look was gone. "I'm just overwhelmed and tired and hungover. I just need a little time. Can you give me that?"
All Fitz could do was nod. Because of course he had to give her that. What else was he supposed to do? Demand that she tells him how she felt right this instant? Not that a part of him didn't want to ask her just that but it wasn't right and he knew it.
"You can still take…anything you want, clothes I mean, if-if that's not comfortable," he said vaguely gesturing to the dress she had put back on.
"Thank you," she said with a soft smile. She seemed to hesitate for a second then leaned forward and pressed a kiss on his cheek. "I'll see you soon, Fitz."
And with that, she stood up, grabbed the clothes he had laid out for her the previous day and left the room. A minute later, he could hear the door to his apartment open and close. His hand remained on his cheek for long minutes. That simple, affectionate gesture that used to give him a rush and maybe a little hope, now hurt more than he could express it.