Jemma, it's me. Don't turn around just play cool.

She looks out the window at the magnificent, yet terrifying view of space that once excited here so much but now just signifies an unbridgeable distance. She has a strange feeling, like her skin is tingling. She can almost feel his presence, his breath on her neck. She wonders how can it feel both like yesterday and forever. The mysteries of the fourth dimension Fitz would say, no doubt.

Oh, I've missed you so much.

Time is so cruel, she muses. She remembers how excited he used to be about the theories of space-time. On paper, it is elegant, fascinating formulas of past, present and future melding together seamlessly. But in reality, as in mathematics, perspective matters. From where she is standing, things feel finite and irreversible.

I spent six months locked up in a military prison.

She imagines again what happened to him. She worries that he may have been hurt, captured. It is strange to worry about someone who has lived his life already. She wonders if he ever thought that she would willingly abandon him?

Not to mention eighty years frozen in space, hoping to find you.

She knows in her heart that he kept fighting, never giving up hope. Maybe she shouldn't either. Not this time. Maybe there is a way back.

And here you are.

If only he were here, they could figure it out together.

You know, I realized something.

That pain in the pit of her stomach is back, that maybe she realized everything too late.

The universe can't stop us. Cause we have crossed galaxies, we have travelled through time, we have survived at the bottom of the Atlantic just so we could be together.

All the pivotal moments of the past ten years of her life have been defined by his presence. Now her life has become defined by his absence. She feels as empty as the endless vacuum of space.

She thinks about all the missed opportunities – she wishes all those times she would have been stronger, braver. She wishes she told him that she loved him right at the bottom of the ocean. Things could have been different.

Now a love like that, that is stronger than any curse.

She has always believed that their link, their love was unbreakable. Maybe the curse was just that – all the times they hesitated, all the things they left unsaid.

You and I, we are unstoppable together.

Because together, there was no problem they could not fix. Why were they so afraid then when it came to themselves? Why have they ever doubted that they could work it out whatever the problem was?

I don't want to live another day without you.

She has known for a long time that she never wanted to be without him.

So Jemma Simmons, will you marry me?"

She just couldn't find the words (scrap that, the courage) to say that she wanted to be with him, always, forever.

I know… I mean I said play cool, but I didn't mean play this cool.

She knew he thought about marrying her, she heard him say that his love would never fade. Maybe that's why she feels it pulsating through the vastness of space and time, no matter what her brain tells her about the evidence. Why hasn't she ever told him that hers would not either? Why hasn't she told him that she would marry him, like he promised the LMD that wore his face but could have never matched his essence? She banishes that thought immediately, the wound is still too fresh, too raw. If only she got another chance, she would not waste it. But it looks like they ran out of chances.

Jemma… [Is there a problem?]

She feels the shadow of a feathery touch on her arm that sends electric waves around her body. She spins around startled by Kasius' voice; and she forgets to breathe for a second. Because there he is, blue eyes she thought she'd never see again piercing her skull with hot intensity, burning with a question, confusion and warning. She wants to touch him to make sure he's not a hallucination, but she takes in his appearance, and she knows for sure she would never imagine him in a marauder outfit. In her head, he always wears soft flannels, cool cottons, fluffy cardigans.

I asked your servant a question which she ignored. [My apologies, my servants here are only allowed to hear the voice of their master.] Oh, are they? Well, why don't you tell me how your guests' needs are met when your slaves can't hear them.

She wants to scream with joy, wants to run in his embrace, but she knows immediately, without words that he's playing a dangerous game to be here. She sees him arguing with Kasius pointing at her and she is quietly pleased that the blue bastard seems cowed by his reprimands.

[There.] Thank you.

As Kasius turns off the switch in her ear, she finally hears his voice, his soft words penetrating her prison of silence. She keeps her features under control, but her heart is pounding so fast, a joyous, triumphant rhythm, because he has found a way. Again. After beating space, he beat time too. And together, they will fix this.

[This one is quite exemplary. In fact, she also travelled through time with the destroyer of worlds.] Hmm [Which probably explains her flawless complexion]

They stare at each other for a long beat as Kasius talks. Jemma tries to read Fitz's thoughts through his eyes – she sees the love, the hope, the resolve and tries to reflect the same back to him before they reluctantly break eye contact. It's essential that Kasius doesn't sense their connection. She focuses on the conversation trying to guess the game he is playing. She involuntarily flinches as Kasius touches her face in front of him, burning with humiliation and fear that he would do something rash, when she sees a hot anger flash in his eyes.

Is she for sale? [Not independently. She comes as a companion, for she is quite adapt at motivating the Destroyer.]

It's the smart play, still she cannot help but scoff silently at the absurdity of seeing the love of her life bargain for her, Jemma Simmons, fiercely independent woman, holder of not one, but two PhDs, as if she was a trinket at a marketplace. She gathers that must be his plan – attending the auction to purchase Daisy and herself. He moves closer and she wonders if there is a way Kasius will not notice the electric field vibrating around them with desire.

Ha. Well, I find that the only motivation people ever need is pain and it's proper application. [A wonderful sentiment. I should've expected no less from a man with such an impressive brooch.] Huh.

She looks along with mixture of awe and horror as Fitz, the gentlest, kindest, most loving person she's ever met says these horrible things as if they were the most natural things in the world, playing Kasius like a pro. She knows it's an act, but it is a fearsomely convincing one. Still she's afraid for him, what could happen if he slips up.

[I need you to go see what has been reaped from today's harvest.]

She risks one more sideways glance at him, but his eyes are downcast. He is so close, she almost brushes against him as she hurries off to fulfil the task Kasius asked her to do. She feels an almost unbearable desire to touch him, hold him, kiss him. And the denied touch feels like a void. A renewed hope and resolve makes her feel alive, because she is as determined as she has ever been to get out of here, to fix things, to not to wait for their future to start but to live it in the present wherever and whenever that may be, to leave nothing unsaid ever again.