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can you hear me screaming please don’t leave me

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The mission doesn’t come as a surprise, not really. SHIELD needed someone to infiltrate a group of arms dealers somewhere in the murky region where surveillance failed to do its job. It’s a closed off region too, where technology had reached its peak in the 20th century. In short, it’s a remote and they needed a face that wouldn’t get caught.

A skilled agent, the rumor mill went, one who knew how to conduct themselves in a multitude of surroundings. A chameleon who could blend without any problem.

Daisy’s picked and all Jemma can feel is dread. Dread for Daisy, dread for her, because she’s heard of these kinds of threat. They’re life threatening. No one came out of these missions the same person they were before. They came out broken, damaged or dead. 

Time is of the essence, the director tells Daisy, and Daisy tells Jemma, and when Daisy has to leave, all Jemma can do hold her tight and pray that it would be enough to last her until Daisy came back home. 

Daisy watches Jemma get smaller from the window of the Zephyr. Jemma watches the Zephyr until she loses sight of it.  



Oh how much I miss you! Work is boring as ever, and more men insist on asking me out. How I wish you were home, how I wish you were in my arms once more. I understand you have to go on an mission and that it is important, but I long for when your mission ends and I can see you instead of sending you letters passed along by SHIELD. 

You would have enjoyed this month’s movie they were playing. I can’t remember what it was, nor did I care, but it was something I know you would have liked. It had women with guns, the American West and there were multiple scenes where the lead actress was showering. Her body reminded me of yours. 

Daisy, it has been a month and I have never felt so lonely. When you’re not here, it feels like I’m missing a part of me. Your words give me comfort, they always have. I love you. 

With love, 




The SHIELD carrier came as soon as it could. It’s two in the morning right now and I don’t have much time- working undercover for a bunch for right wing assholes who treat you like a secretary doesn’t leave a whole lot of time for thinking of personal matters. 

I want to quake the whole damn camp until all that’s left is rubble. They’re all creeps, Simmons, and I have never felt more angry at how they treat their women. Remind me when I get home to take down more wife beaters and child abusers. 

I’m glad work’s boring, I’d be worried if it wasn’t. SHIELD isn’t planning anything new, are they? No new tech advances, no new domestic spying programs to rival the NSA? I’d pay to hack one of their programs right about now, the camp has no technology whatsoever. They’re completely off the grid and it’s killing me. Could you check with the Rising Tide to see what they’ve hacked now? Last I heard Department of Defense files were leaked to the media, one of my friends there sent me clippings of the outrage. It was hilarious.

I think my sense of humor is going. That’s terrifying.

Jemma, I love you. No matter what happens, don’t ever forget that. You’re my best friend and my girlfriend, and nothing will ever change that. Even if I may be off the grid for extended periods of time, don’t ever forget that I would never leave you alone, not if I could help it. 

Love, Daisy.

PS: Tell Coulson that I’ve found a Lola lookalike. It’s an orange brown and it’s hideous. I’ve enclosed a picture of what it looks like. 



I showed Coulson the car. He thought it was a monstrosity, then proceeded to show it to Mack, who couldn’t stop laughing at how putrid the colour was. 

Yoyo told me last week that she was pregnant. She was so excited, you should have seen her face! She was positively glowing, telling me she suspected she was two and a half months along. I’m not sure when she plans on telling Mack, but I assume it would be a birthday surprise for him. Mack will be pleased, no doubt. He’s always wanted to be a father.

I’ve included terrible yet funny Facebook memes in the envelope. I wouldn’t suggest you open them among people, only when you’re alone. I found a Facebook page the other day I’m sure you’ll love, and I’ve picked out some of my favorites to share with you. 

I think Fitz has been looking for me, one of my scientists said they saw him around my station. If this is about our failed engagement, then I’ve already told him everything I have to day to him about it. I don’t know why he keeps entertaining the idea that we could get back together again, I’m perfectly happy dating you, and quite frankly, it’s getting a tad disturbing how he keeps on trying to talk me into giving him another chance. 

You’d think he would learn after six months that I wasn’t interested, but alas. I’ll send him an email if it comes to that, tell him once and for all that No, I am not interested in dating him again, and if he proceeded along his current behaviour I would have to report him. 

When you come home, we should go to the steak house around the corner. The fancy one, where the valets park our cars for us. The only benefit of Deke working there is that he is willing to give us discounts on the meal, and give us tables with the best view free of charge. Well, as long as we keep buying him tree shrubs every holiday and sending him the best fertilizer so he can maintain his garden of mismatched trees. 

Deke wishes for me to tell you that the restaurant has increased their variety of beers. Tells me that the new beers aren’t as good as their current ones, but he enjoys recommending them to people who don’t know any better. I’m not sure why he’s still employed, but his rough house attitude apparently attracts rich assholes who are willing to pay extra for a poor excuse of a server that doesn’t grasp the concept of email. 

I bought some new lingerie from Victoria’s Secret. I know that you’ll like them, one of them was a limited edition Quake themed underwear. 

With all my love, 



Tell Deke that as long he doesn’t drink on the job and steal too much beer from their backroom, he should be fine. I guess I shouldn’t tell him that I’ve used his name on government forms, then again, I don’t think he knows how to file taxes. Oops. At least I didn’t sign up for porn sites with his name.

Is Fitz doing the thing where he stares at you longingly from the distance again? Cause that got old real fast. Maybe you should call security on him again, see what they say. Threaten to tell Quake if they don’t listen. 

Thanks for the Facebook memes- they were hilarious. Glad to know what a joke is, and not what they call jokes back in the ‘60s. God, I really want to be the Destroyer of Worlds right now. They’d deserve it.

The letters may come slower now. I’ve been sending messages between camps, transcribing them for long distance travel. They talk in code, but the idea I’m getting is that they’re planning something big. 

Don’t tell SHIELD this, Jemma, but I’m scared. They’re ramping up operations between camps and it’s getting harder to send messages without getting caught. They shot someone on site yesterday for trying to run away. 

Promise me you’ll wait for me, when I get back. 

I love you.


PPS: Quake themed underwear? I can’t wait.



I overheard things about your mission I’m not sure you know about: they’re planning on transporting weapons. Missiles, I believe. Coulson told me to tell you, told me that he was worried for your safety. May told me they’re planning on attacking one of the nearby capital cities and leave rubble behind as all that was left. 

If you were planning on signing Deke up for anything, make it therapy to be a better person. He offered me discounts on beer to make me feel better. I wonder if he realizes drinking is for miserable people to not feel miserable, then deal with a bloody awful hangover for the next day. Deke isn’t entirely awful: just last week he told me Fitz was talking about me. Mentioned that Fitz had gone Facebook stalking, was looking for something that indicated I was single. I told Deke that it was nothing when he asked, but I’m sure he gave me one or more pitying glances when I thought I wasn’t look. He also told Mack.

Oh Daisy, what am I going to do about Fitz? We haven’t dated in ages, and we’ve both moved on from each other. I don’t understand why he hasn’t already found a new girlfriend; he’s a perfectly handsome man with a charming personality, it should be easy for him to find someone new. Fitz was and is my best friend for over a decade, he should have moved on by now. 

Daisy, I pray that you’re safe. I have been told by Elena and Mack that to some, prayer can be of great help. I doubt it helps us, but Elena did tell me she would be praying for you, and I hope that it helps. All I hope is that you come home to me and that you are safe. The mission was dangerous from the beginning but someone had to do it, and I dreaded that you were picked for the longest time. 

Please come home safely, Daisy, I will be here, waiting for as long I need to be. 




Hopefully my last letter has reached you. I dreamt of you last night. It pained me that you weren’t there sleeping next to me, but that’s the price we pay for being SHIELD agents, right? It’s currently one in the morning right now, and I know, I know you would tell me to go back to sleep, but I don’t want to fall asleep to wake up alone again. 

Sometimes I think we should quit SHIELD and leave. It’d spare use both the heartache, the pain, everything we’ve already gone through. I miss peace and quiet in my life. It’s such an odd feeling, really, missing the boringness of everyday life. I used to scoff at the idea of domesticity, thought it was a lonely way to spend life, when the world was ripe for exploration. 

I miss that now, and I can’t stop thinking of those Wednesday mornings we would sleep in and make pancakes side by side. Those times we went those awful bars in texas and gambled away three pickpocketed tickets to Gavin McGraw. That time we went to Hong Kong and people thought you understand Chinese and all you’d give them was blank stares. 

I miss you Daisy. It suffocates me sometimes, knowing you’re in danger and I can’t be there next to you. Please, please stay safe. 




Long time no letter. I can’t be long, operations have ramped up and it’s getting harder for SHIELD to pass letters along. I got your letters, by the way. The minute I get home, we’re going on vacation. I’m thinking the Bahamas or Florida, personally. Depends how much hispanic food you want to eat. 

Congrats to Mack and Elena- I’m sure she’s told him by now about the pregnancy. Mack’s going to be thrilled to be a dad and I wish him all my luck when the kid is born. I know they’ll treat her with love. I can’t imagine Mack raising a son- he loves daughters, but either way, I know he’ll be beyond happy to have a child with Elena. They deserve it.

If we do quit SHIELD, I know a place in New York a friend bought years ago. It’s a penthouse suite along the skylines of New York and the view is breathtaking. You’d love it. Not too fond of moving to Europe: their take on inhuman rights needs a lot of work and it’s too small. Too much collateral damage when I use my powers. 

Jemma, I’d destroy the earth for you. Not literally- don’t tell Deke that, he wouldn’t know a joke if it danced naked in front of him- but you know what I mean. You’re the love of my life, and we’ve shared one too many adventures to be separated by some fucking SHIELD mission that leaves me in the dark in some shithole in the area between Asia and the Middle East. 

I will come back home to you, I promise. You don’t ever need to doubt that.



If SHIELD allowed me to go to where you were, I’d take a bloody machine gun and take care of them for you. SHIELD wound never authorize it of course, but I’d quite enjoy taking a machine gun again. 

I was thinking the Bahamas or the Virgin Islands. Florida is a plane ride away, far too close for SHIELD to contact us. The afterwards, Paris. I have friends who would be willing to give us a tour of Paris for free, away from the tourist traps. Of course, the French have a varied approach to Quake, maybe it would be better to explore Paris by moonlight. We could attempt to climb the Eiffel Tower, but it’s got so many steps we’d never make it before sunrise. 

Perhaps London? If you prefer the cobblestone steps of the city where time comes to standstill, we could always go there. It’s always raining, which means we would have the opportunity to sleep in without worrying that we were missing anything. You’d enjoy an English breakfast.

I suspect it’s a girl for Mack and Elena, if only for that the baby hasn’t been kicking as much. Elena is positively glowing, Daisy. She and Mack are over the moon. I’m not their OB/GYN, but I do know enough about pregnancy to tell that they’re almost at four months. It’s an exciting process, pregnancy. 

Fitz talked about children, but they were never a reality. There were a few close calls when I thought I was expecting but they never meant anything, thankfully. I can’t imagine sharing custody of a child with Fitz, it would be terribly awkward and uncomfortable for both of us. 

If you get the chance, clock those bastards you’re reporting on. 

Please write back soon. Reading letters from you absolutely makes my day, and they are like a lifeline to me. 

With all my love and everything I have,




I write this letter in part for celebration and in part because I miss you. May has been promoted, and she told me earlier that the mission has been reported on successfully. She expects that SHIELD will soon strike and eliminate them, and I hope that you will be home by the time SHIELD strikes. 

Happy Birthday, Daisy Louise Johnson. You are the light of my life, you are my best friend and my closest companion. You have made my life so much better than what it once was, and all the pain and tears shed together have only made us stronger, inseparable even. Come back to me, Daisy. Come back home, to the apartment we live in with mismatched couches and charging cords scattered everywhere. Come back to me, to the bedroom we share, to the dinner table we have multiple uses for, to the couch where we’ve fallen asleep on each other at least once. 

It sounds silly, overly sentimental even, but you’ve become a part of me I don’t want gone. People have left me, and you never has. You’ve become the one constant in my life that I can depend on, and having you home means the world to be. 




Change of plans: they are preparing more, evacuating weapons. They have plutonium and unstable uranium. 

Please stay safe, Daisy. I wish you were here beside me and not living next to those madmen with nuclear weapons liable to go off any second. 




They’re displacing all the secretaries in the camp, sending them into the mountain to shoo them away. I’ve sent a signal to SHIELD already.

I’m coming home, Jemma, I’m finally coming home. 

I love you.


They meet in the airport, Daisy in clothes that were soaked in snow, dust and dirt, and Jemma in a blazer and jeans. Jemma runs up to her, almost sprinting, almost running, because she’s dreamed of this for so long, and here Daisy is, just a few meters away.

It’s still too far away for her taste.

She hugs Daisy for a good long time, ignoring everyone else around here. They didn’t matter, nothing else mattered beyond the fact that Daisy Johnson was home, that Daisy Johnson was in her arms, crying and embracing her for dear life.

Time stands still. Jemma doesn’t let go. 

“Jemma,” Daisy tells her, and Jemma looks at her, eyes wide with tears of happiness and a wistfulness finally gone, “I’ve been thinking about us. I don’t want to live without you.” Her voice is quiet, tender, hoarse with dehydration and filled to the brim with every emotion under the sun that Jemma knows to be longing, the bittersweetness of long distance, loneliness and feeling empty. She knows these emotions, as does Daisy. 

If they didn’t, neither of them would have been in their current position, but here they were, finally reunited. 

“Marry me,” Daisy tells her, asks her, practically begs her with her eyes, and all Jemma can do is say yes, yes yes yes yes yes, because this is everything she wants right in front of her, this is everything she could possibly want in front of her. 

This was all that mattered. 

They kiss right there, and everything is perfect. Jemma’s hair loose and free flowing, Daisy’s clothes filled with mountain dust and her boots covered in mud, and none of that mattered, not when they were finally together. 

“Jemma,” Daisy tells her after the spellbinding kiss ends, “let’s go home.” They leave the airport holding hands, laughter and tears plenty as they recollected their past, present and now, future.