Summary: The mission does not go as planned, and neither do the conversations.
This is it, the chapter that started it all, and brings it all together.
This chapter is dedicated to my Lindy, who encourages my writing habit.
And thank you Mari for the review, it really made me smile :).
Daisy comes back to consciousness with a start, gasping for air. She's lying on her back, a heavy layer of dust settling on everything around her. There's a sharp pain in her left side that tells her that she probably has some broken ribs, and a splitting headache that suggests that she has taken a good knock to the head.
Daisy sighs deeply, wrapping her right arm around her screaming ribs and laying her left arm over her eyes to block out the too bright light. She shakes her head a little to clear her thoughts, and tries to reach out her senses to gauge her surroundings. A low grade buzz sounds in her ears, but other than that, it's silent.
Daisy racks her brain, trying to remember where she was, and how she got there. The last thing she remembers is a mission to retrieve intel from an abandoned factory, and an explosion, and…
"SIMMONS!" Daisy yells as she sits bolt upright. Her yell is cut off as her ribs and head adamantly protest the movement, and she collapses back onto the dirty floor, groaning in pain.
Yep, broken ribs, Daisy thinks when her vision flashes white.
"Daisy?" Simmons' voice comes from nearby, cut off by a cough.
"I'm over here, Simmons!" Daisy calls out. Her ribs throb too painfully to try to sit again.
"Daisy?" The voice is much closer now, and Daisy turns her head to see Simmon's head poke over a half collapsed wall. She has dust in her hair, and a trickle of blood running down from her hairline to her jawbone. She gasps in shock when she spots Daisy, and moves toward her friend with a limp in her gait. Daisy feels like she blinks and Simmon's hands are on her, feeling for injuries.
"Daisy, where are you hurt?" She asks, breathless, running her hands down Daisy's sides. Daisy hisses in pain when Jemma passes over her last three ribs on her left side. It's enough to answer Jemma's question.
"I think your ribs are broken, Daisy," Jemma says, looking concerned, I need to open up your jacket to take a look."
Daisy nods, and touches where blood has started to dry on Jemma's cheek. "I know the drill," she says cryptically.
Jemma unzips Daisy's jacket and pulls up the black tank she wears underneath, hissing at the purple bruises already forming on her ribs. She pushes on Daisy's sternum, Daisy cries out and curls toward the injured ribs. Jemma's mouth stretches into a firm line.
"Alright, probably broken then. I had a field medical kit with me before… whatever happened. I'm going to go try and find it. Don't move until I get back," she directs back at Daisy, slowly standing up.
Daisy tries to take stock of her body and her surroundings. She knows that her head is pounding relentlessly, and that makes it harder to focus.
Jemma comes back, a torn medical bag over her shoulder. She kneels down next to Daisy and helps her sit up, moving her to sit against the nearby wall.
Jemma opens the medical bag and digs around. She's able to pull out a few bottles of water and a blister pack of painkillers. She tears open the blister pack and puts them in Daisy's hand. "Here, take these," she says, handing her a water bottle as well. Daisy obliges without any fuss, knowing that Jemma is in Doctor Simmons mode, and there's defying her.
Jemma dabs at the blood on Daisy's forehead, treating the cuts and bruises that she sustained in the explosion without speaking.
Daisy is having trouble holding herself upright. The pain in her head is making her want to just lie down and close her eyes, but she knows she shouldn't. She can't pinpoint why, but she knows that someone, somewhere has told her not to sleep after a head injury. She keeps finding herself tilting forward as her body wants to doze off.
"Daisy, do you want to lie down?" Jemma asks softly, finishing up bandaging the wound on Daisy's head. "You can put your head on my thigh if you like, it might be more comfortable."
Daisy hesitates, it's not like they haven't cuddled before (but usually Fitz is on the other side of Jemma, and it's a movie night), but Daisy doesn't quite feel in control of her tongue currently. Daisy opens her mouth to politely decline, but, instead, she says, "That sounds so fantastic."
Dammit, Daisy, She scolds herself.
Jemma smiles, her face lighting up, "Alright! Hold on just a moment, I'm going to pull a few more water rations and my firearm over here so we don't need to move for a while."
Jemma slips the gun into her holster and picks up the medical kit nearby.
Something about the gun catches Daisy's eye. "That's not an ICER, is it Jem?" She asks
Jemma shakes her head, not saying anything.
Daisy blinks in shock a few times. "Since when did you become such a badass and start carrying an actual gun? I thought you weren't comfortable with that?"
Jemma's eyes get a little further away, "Well, sometimes trauma changes you," she mutters darkly. Daisy chooses not to respond to that.
Jemma settles herself down next to Daisy, leaning against the half collapsed wall and Daisy gladly lays her head down in her lap. Jemma brings her hand up and plays with Daisy's hair. "Go ahead and close your eyes for a little bit. I'll be here to wake you up soon," she says soothingly.
Daisy closes her eyes, and lets herself drift off.
"Hey Daisy," a familiar voice starts clearing the fog of sleep around Daisy. "Hey I need you to open your eyes for me."
Daisy blinks her eyes open, her head is resting on something comfortable, but her ribs are pained and breathing only makes it worse.
Jemma slowly comes into focus, "Hey there, how are you feeling?" Jemma asks softly.
"Hurts," Daisy grunts, groaning a little.
"I know, would you like some water?"
Daisy nods, and Jemma helps Daisy sit up, careful of her ribs, and leans her against the wall. A bottle of water is pushed into her hands. Daisy drinks, enjoying the feeling of the cool water on her throat.
"How long was I asleep?" Daisy asks after a moment.
"About half an hour, it's starting to get dark and I wanted to make sure that I could still wake you. I think you have a concussion," Jemma replies.
"Have we missed check in yet?" Daisy asks.
Jemma glances at her watch, "Check in is in half an hour, we should expect them to come flying in to rescue us soon. I hope." They lapse into silence again as Jemma zones out.
"How are you feeling, Jemma?" Daisy asks quietly, trying to break the tension in the air.
"I'm doing alright. I think that my ankle might be sprained, but I took some pain reliever and I'm feeling okay."
The two women are silent again.
"So how long have you been carrying a standard edition SHIELD side arm for?" Daisy asks Jemma, not being able to stand the quiet any longer. The buzzing in her ears is driving her mad.
Jemma shrugs, "The first time I carried one was in Los Angeles, with the whole Eli Morrow situation? The director insists that I carry a lethal sidearm if I accompany any teams on missions. His reasoning, and I quote, is 'If it gets to the point that you should have to fire a shot, it better be lethal because your team will be dead.'"
Daisy rolls her eyes, it sounds like something Mace would insist on.
"Do you remember when you had to start carrying a sidearm?" Jemma continues. She seems less spaced out now, more with it.
"Yeah, I do. The first time Ward handed me one, I thought I was going to shoot myself in the foot. Wow, that feels like it was a completely different person," Daisy replies, looking off somewhere beyond Jemma.
"I mean, you're not so different," Jemma smiles, reaching over and poking Daisy's cheek.
"I am different now," Daisy says, looking away, "you said it yourself, trauma changes us. And God if the both of us haven't had trauma the last few years."
Jemma pulls her hand back, "Yeah, that we have. You aren't the hacker we pulled from the van anymore."
Daisy giggles, "And you aren't the goofy, genius lab rat that I fell in love with."
Both women stop dead, Daisy covers her mouth in shock. Had she just said that out loud? How had that slipped out?
Jemma looks at Daisy in shock, her mouth slightly open, "Daisy… did you just say… that you fell in love with me?"
Daisy nods, not taking her hand off of her mouth.
Jemma stands up and starts to pace, crossing and uncrossing her arms.
Daisy can tell that Jemma is holding something back, and Daisy has already gone on a self-destructive streak for the day, so why stop here?
"What, Simmons? What do you have to say?" She tries to say calmly.
A dam finally bursts in Simmons' chest, and she's practically yelling, "You left me! You left me after I had just gotten you back from Hive, and when I was still reeling from things not working out with Fitz, and you wouldn't let me in to help you deal with the loss of Lincoln! Because I was hurting from his loss, too." Tears are running down Jemma's face as the grief she's been suppressing for 8 months finally breaks through.
Jemma puts her head into her hands, continuing to pace, "and now you're telling me that you used to be in love with me?"
Tears pool in the corners of Daisy's eyes. This is what she knew would happen, she knew that Jemma could never love her in return, not after everything she had done.
Jemma stops, looking into Daisy's tear filled eyes, she sighs, "You still are, aren't you? In love with me that is."
Daisy nods. Not meeting Jemma's gaze.
Jemma sighs, not sure what to even say. A silence takes falls between the two of them.
"Go on, tell me," Daisy whispers, tears running down her face, leaving tear tracks in the dust, "Tell me you don't love me."
Jemma is completely shocked. She blinks a few times, of course I love you! She wants to scream back. I've loved you since before you ever left. I've loved you since you were still Skye. I've loved you since the day you stepped foot on the Bus. I dream every day of when I get to hold you and call you mine.
But instead of saying any of her thoughts, Jemma closes the space between them, drops to her knees, and her lips crash into Daisy's, her hands braced on her shoulders.
Daisy initially reacts in shock, gasping, partially because the impact of Jemma amplifies the pain in her ribs, and partially because she can't believe that this is actually happening.
Then, after the wave of pain and shock has passed, Daisy returns the kiss with equal fervor. Kissing Jemma is better than Daisy could have ever imagined or daydreamed about. And while it hurts her most recent injuries, she knows that Jemma is being nothing but gentle and soft. Only Doctor Jemma Simmons could be soft and gentle, but frantic and passionate at the same time.
The kisses leave Daisy breathless, and she tries to get in air between the kisses, and Jemma pulls her lips away from Daisy's.
"Oh goodness, Daisy I'm so sorry! I shouldn't have done that with your injuries…"
Daisy shakes her head, "no! No, I needed that. Can I just take a raincheck," she stops for a second, trying to catch her breath, "Take a raincheck for when it doesn't hurt to breathe?"
Jemma chuckles, placing a soft kiss on the end of Daisy's nose. "Of course," she says, a blush creeping up into her cheeks, "You can cash it in when you're feeling more up to it."
Daisy nods gratefully, exhaustion showing on her face.
Jemma glances behind her and lays back on the ground, using the medical bag as a pillow. She pats the ground next to her, holding her arm out. Daisy smiles and slowly moves her way into Jemma's left side. Daisy groans in pain as she settles into the comforting embrace.
"Fitz told me that we're cursed. I think it's just me," Jemma says quietly, playing with a lock of Daisy's hair.
"Why is that, Jem?"
"Well, Fitz and I spent 10 years dancing around each other, only to think we were in love, to find out we were just better as platonic soulmates. Then there's Will, who," her voice cracks, "died billions of miles from home trying to save my sorry ass. And then there's us," Jemma trails off, sniffing. Daisy pushes herself up on her elbow with great effort, looking directly into Jemma's eyes.
"What about us, Jemma?"
Jemma took a deep breath, "I keep thinking that I've completely blown my chances of ever being with you. After you changed, I thought I had blown any chance I had in the world of being with you. And then after I got back from Maveth, I was so wrapped up in my own trauma that I didn't see you struggling. And then after Lincoln, you left. And I thought I would never see you again. And then I let that grief of you leaving destroy any chance of happiness I had with Fitz…" Jemma trails off, trying to hold back the tears. Daisy lays her head back on Jemma's chest.
"You never blew your chances with me, Jem. It was always there. I just, I don't know. I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I haven't told you how I feel before now, I should have told you the first time I thought that I had feelings for you."
"When was that?"
"Remember when you jumped off the bus, and Ward jumped out after you to save you? Yeah. It was then," she stops for a moment to take a breath, her ribs are aching terribly now, and taking a breath has gotten more labor intensive.
"Oh Daisy, why didn't you say something?" Jemma wraps her arms around Daisy carefully, cradling her closer to her chest.
"Because I didn't understand the feelings I was having. I didn't know that I was… that I was…"
"That you're gay?" Jemma offers softly.
"Yeah, that, but not completely gay, like half gay? A quarter gay?" Daisy turns into Jemma's shirt to hide her blush. "Sorry, I'm not good with words," she mutters, muffled by Jemma's shirt.
Jemma laughs, "there's a word for that Dais, it's 'bisexual'."
Daisy groans into Jemma's chest. She picks her head up to look at Jemma, "I know, but that word, just, it makes me feel so… I don't know, dirty. Like there's something wrong with me, ya know?"
Jemma sighs, "I know the feeling. Believe me. I've known that I was bisexual since I was in my teens at the Academy. Sometimes the reactions that people have are," she pauses, weighing her words, "unsavory. But there is nothing wrong with you Daisy. I promise," Jemma runs her hands through Daisy's hair comfortingly, glad that she can finally have this conversation with her best
friend.
Daisy goes quiet, and it worries Jemma a little bit. The expansion of the other woman's chest against hers feels wrong.
"Hey Daisy, when did you figure these feelings out?"
When Daisy doesn't respond immediately, Jemma rubs Daisy's back in circles a few times. Daisy gives an incoherent groan in response.
"Daisy?" Jemma questions more firmly, rubbing Daisy's back again. Her heart rate is climbs when Daisy fails to answer, and becomes dead weight against her side. Jemma sits up and rolls the now unconscious Daisy onto her back. The Inhuman's breathing is ragged and fast, and her brow is furrowed in pain in her unconsciousness.
Jemma presses her fingers into Daisy's neck to find a pulse. She finds one, but it is weaker and faster than she would like.
"Dammit, Daisy!" Jemma murmurs, "Daisy, can you hear me?"
When she again gets no response, Jemma quickly rubs her knuckles over Daisy's sternum, breathing out a sigh of relief when Daisy pulls away from the stimuli. Jemma then adjusts Daisy on the ground and tilts her head back, opening up her airway. She leans forward and listens to Daisy's overly fast breathing, and she hears a telltale crackle on an exhale.
Jemma swears out loud, she taps on the swollen left side of Daisy's chest, and hears a resounding thump, and Daisy groans in pain again.
Jemma starts to swear again, now knowing that Daisy's lung has collapsed.
Jemma scrambles to get to the damaged medical bag, hoping that at least one pneumothorax kit remains in the pockets.. She moves quickly, knowing that Daisy is in serious danger of going into respiratory arrest, and Jemma doesn't know if she can get her going again with a collapsed lung.
Jemma pulls the bag to her, and rummages through the torn bag, yelling in triumph when she is able to find not only a sterile pneumothorax kit, but a sterile nasopharyngeal airway. Jemma flips the Dr. Simmons switch, and is back kneeling next to her injured friend in a heartbeat.
Jemma slips the airway in Daisy's nose, and cuts her undershirt with a pair of bent scissors to get access to her injuries.
Jemma can hear her heartbeat in her ears as she palpates on Daisy's chest for the 3rd intercostal space near her collarbone. She wishes she were in a more sterile environment, but she knows that she could be in major danger of losing Daisy if the collapsed lung progressed further.
Jemma lines up the needle in the space between Daisy's ribs and pushes straight down. Daisy flinches in pain, and Jemma hears a rush of air escape from the needle with a hiss.
Jemma lets out a breath of air that she didn't know she was holding. She busies herself setting up the one way valve and tapes the tubing to Daisy's chest. Each exhale causes more air to be expelled from Daisy's chest.
Within 5 minutes, Daisy's breathing is better. Jemma knows she isn't out of the woods yet, that Daisy needs some more serious medical treatment, but this will work until Jemma can get her back to the Playground.
It had to. Jemma had more to say to Daisy.
Jemma sits next to Daisy's bed in medical, holding her hand as she sleeps.
Daisy still has a chest tube in her side, keeping her healing lung from collapsing again, and she is still on intermittent oxygen therapy. She hasn't woken up yet, and it's been 3 days.
But Jemma keeps a vigil beside her bed, ever since she was medically cleared herself, she sits in a crappy plastic chair, holding her hand and reads to her, or just writes her reports (Jemma's not yet cleared for duty, leaving her to catch up on some long neglected paperwork).
Jemma just waits, because, true to her life, Jemma never got to tell Daisy how she really felt with words. And she thinks that she finally has the words now.
Daisy comes back to consciousness slowly, starting with a soft groan as the pain sets back into her body. Jemma stops writing her purchase order and looks at her friend stirring in the bed.
Daisy rubs at her face, pulling at the nasal cannula wrapped around her head.
"Daisy, leave that on. You need it," Jemma says as she pushes Daisy's hand away from the plastic tubing. Daisy groans and mumbles a few unintelligible words.
"What was that?"
"It itches," Daisy says a little more clearly, blinking her eyes open, and then closing them against the lights. Jemma reaches up and turns down the overhead lights.
"You're on a pretty high dose of morphine, remember how it makes you itch?" She asks Daisy, and Daisy nods sluggishly.
"Explains the wiggles," Daisy mumbles softly. Jemma cracks a smile. She had forgotten how amusing Daisy was on pain medicine. She reaches down and grabs Daisy's hand, rubbing her fingers between her own.
"Do you remember what happened, Daisy?" Jemma asks.
Daisy nods, "Unfortunately, yes," she mutters. "It sucked."
"Daisy, why didn't you tell me that breathing was getting so difficult?" Jemma asks, tears filling her eyes.
Daisy takes a deep breath and swallows a few times before she is able to reply, "I didn't want you to worry. I was managing to breathe okay."
Jemma scowls, "Until you couldn't, and you passed out on me, Daisy." Jemma leans forward and rests her forehead on Daisy's bed, not letting go of Daisy's hand.
Daisy blinks heavily, trying to get her thoughts together through the morphine. She squeezes Jemma's hand.
"I'm sorry, Jem. I really didn't notice it, I was a little bit distracted by, well," she raises her eyebrows suggestively, "You know…"
Jemma laughs a little. She's nervous for what needs to come next, and even if Daisy isn't entirely with it, Jemma needs to tell her. She needs to tell her that the feelings are returned.
She needs to tell Daisy that she's in love with her, too.
"Hey Daisy, are you with it enough for us to finish our conversation? The one from before," Jemma fidgets her feet around.
Daisy looks up into Jemma's eyes, her eyes are glassy, but not as far off as they were before. She takes a few breaths, "I can be, if I need to be." She smiles, and her eyes unfocus a little.
"Daisy," Jemma says, eyes shining with unshed tears, "I do love you. I've always loved you. I loved you when you were the girl in the van, and I love you now as the hero in the gauntlets. And there's nothing you can do to ever change it."
Daisy blinks a few times, trying to process everything that was just said. She scoots her body as far left as she can get on the narrow bed without bumping her chest tube on the railing. She pats the bed next to her. "Stay?" She says softly.
Jemma smiles softly. She reaches down and pulls off her shoes. Very gingerly, Jemma climbs into the bed next to Daisy. She lies on her back, sliding an arm under Daisy's head, trying to be careful of Daisy's oxygen tubes and intravenous lines. With Jemma's help, Daisy rolls to her good side and curls into Jemma's side, much like they had been in the field.
"Jemma?" Daisy asks, closing her eyes again. It's difficult for her to get comfortable, but how she's laying here, curled up into Jemma's side, makes the discomfort not as noticeable.
"Yes, Daisy?" Jemma rubs little circles on her back and it starts to coax Daisy back into sleep.
"I love you," Daisy murmurs into Jemma's side, looking up into Jemma's eyes.
Jemma leans down and kisses Daisy gently on the nose, not quite able to reach her lips without jostling the injured woman. "I love you, too, Daisy."
Daisy dozes back into sleep, and Jemma isn't that far behind her.
And that's how Coulson finds the two of them, tangled together in the hospital bed, and he decides that whatever is was that he came into the room to ask Jemma can wait.
But not before he snaps a picture.
