Note: This was done in a hurry, in between cramming my assignments. So, any typo/grammtical/etc errors are on me. Sorry.
-xxx-
The sky was perfectly overcast for today. Grey and angry, streaks of white clawing across its billowing blanket. The wind howls like an enraged wolf. I want to howl with it. But I keep my head down, clutch tightly to the daffodils and watch the grass under my feet blur with tears.
Shit. I'm not even there yet and I'm already crying like a whale.
Miles nudges me gently. I shake my head, force a small smile, even when my heart is breaking. He wraps his arm around me and gives me a soft squeeze. Miles. I've missed him and it's so good to have him back although...although I would never wish it to be this way. After SHIELD fell, Miles' electronic bracelet stopped working. He didn't even know until he tried hacking into Thailand's airport system to try and get himself a ticket home. And it worked. He made it back. I am glad he's back. I'm relieved. I'm glad he's standing next to me. In silence. At Fitzsimmons' graves.
The whole thing with Ward and HYDRA didn't go well. They didn't make it out alive. I cried for days, weeks even. I cannot even begin to imagine how Coulson and May felt when they finally found their bodies, crushed by metal and concrete, hands still grasping onto each other, Fitz's body hunched over Simmons. I try to will away the lump in my throat, but it doesn't go away. Tears are falling again.
I kneel down, place the daffodils on their graves. Simmons loved them. Thought they were sunshiney and happy. Fitz hated them. They reminded him of bees. I crack a smile, I want to laugh, but no one's here to share our inside joke. Miles barely knows them. He calls them the English girl and the Small Guy. Fitz would throw a hissy fit if he knew.
Fitzsimmons' parents agreed to bury them side-by-side. They only had each other in SHIELD Academy, and on the Bus, and even in their last moments, they were together. No one could bear to pull them apart. It was a closed coffin kind of funeral because Coulson said we wouldn't want to see the damage done. I remember the look in his eyes. The look I never want to see again. And May... She was stone. Cold, hard stone. It was like she'd lapsed back into her past, her eyes were almost hollow. Triplett was there too, mostly quiet. I saw him walk away into the distance and wipe his face with the sleeve of his shirt. I know he'd bonded with Fitzsimmons over a bag of junk food. I cried almost throughout the funeral. So did Fitz's mum. And Simmons' dad. I'd never met them until the day of the funeral. But in our grief, we understood each other.
When their graves were lowered into the ground, Simmons' mum wailed. She kept calling, "Jemma... Jemma, my baby... " I couldn't stay and watch them bury my friends. So I wandered away until Coulson came up to me and told me it was done. Fitzsimmons' parents asked us to please visit, especially Fitz's mum, she had no one else. Trip promised that he would. He even gave her his number so she would have someone to call and talk to. I promised Simmons' parents I would visit whenever I was in town. And then we left, Miles and I; Coulson, May and Trip.
Here I am, one year after the whole HYDRA shit and it's not any easier. Miles and I moved to a low-cost apartment lot. I had nothing on me and Miles only had his computer to shift from his old apartment. We make do. I work in a record store, doing typical administrative stuff. Truth be told, I have enough of dangerous living for now. I just want to lay low and be normal for a bit. Nobody in the record store looks at me weird. That's nice. Miles does shifts in the kitchen of a cafe. He's keeping low too. I had some stuff in my van about places Miles and I frequented. He's in as much danger as I am. I've had minimal contact with Coulson. Sometimes he calls me on encrypted numbers, asks how I'm doing. I don't ask where he is or what he's doing. I never went through interrogation training and I don't want to have the kind of information that would jeopardise the lives of my friends. I have never heard from or seen May or Trip. But my gut tells me they're alive, kicking ass somewhere the way they know how to.
I don't know anything about Ward. I've been trying my hardest to erase him from memory. With Miles around, it's a lot easier than I expected. Miles doesn't try to kill me. And Fitzsimmons... Well, there they are, in their graves. Together in death as they were in life. I wonder if Fitz ever told Simmons he loved her. But I can hear his voice in my head, with his Scottish accent going like, "What? Jemma's like my sister!" No she isn't, Fitz. She's the other part of you that makes you whole. And I wonder if Simmons got tired of Fitz's silence and took matters into her own hands. A kiss would be nice, I think. Simmons would blush.
I run my fingers across the lettering on their graves:
JEMMA SIMMONS
Beloved daughter, sister and friend.
LEOPOLD FITZ
Beloved son and friend. Forever missed.
Fitzsimmons parents aren't into the whole fancy shmancy sayings, huh? I just think it would be nice if the "beloved" was changed to "courageous". They were the bravest friends I ever knew.
The End
-xxx-
Note: Yeah, I know. I'm sorry. And about Miles, I dunno, I liked him. :)