Ŧเтz.

ᴰᴼ ᵞᴼᵁᴿ ᵂᴼᴿˢᵀ. ❖ ʟɪᴛ/ᴅᴇsᴄ ❖ ᴘʀᴇ-ᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇᴅ ❖ ᴀᴄᴀᴅᴇᴍʏ ᴀᴜ ᵂᴿᴵᵀᵀᴱᴺ ᴮᵞ #TURβΩ RT? vine.co/v/5JObZWD297W

»@OfHacktivism« —But he imagined it would be much harder to lose. In much harder circumstances.

»@OfHacktivism« —them together. Seen how happy he made her. He couldn't even imagine what that was like with Simmons...the real Simmons.—

»@OfHacktivism« — And to have someone else die to fix his mistakes was even worse than imaginable. Lincoln was Daisy's soulmate. He'd seen—

»@OfHacktivism« —going before, had him collapsed like a broken tree, unable to support all of the weight it had been given on its own.—

»@OfHacktivism« —of hope that kept him going. He was just...gone. Gone with her. And he'd never felt so empty. The willpower that kept him—

»@OfHacktivism« —to do? There were no clues to track down...no lore to follow. Not this time. This time there wasn't even the tiniest shred—

»@OfHacktivism« —sorry." His head dropped again as fresh sobs racked his entire body. He really just wanted to disappear now. What was he—

»@OfHacktivism« —She was mine to take care of. I should've been with her. I needed to be with her...not...Not Lincoln...I'm so...I'm so—

»@OfHacktivism« —should've never-..." He lifted his head, staring at her with his watery, ocean blue eyes, "Jemma was my responsibility.—

»@OfHacktivism« —plunging deep in his chest. He gripped his shirt as fresh tears dropped to the floor. "I'm...Sorry. I'm so sorry. Lincoln—

»@OfHacktivism« —she was just...she was gone. She'd been gone. And every time that thought crossed his mind it felt like a knife was—

»@OfHacktivism« —all of him felt like he should've been with her. It was Fitzsimmons. He was her partner. They were...inseparable. And now—

»@OfHacktivism« —the inside out. Like anything and everything he ever knew had just exploded inside of a space shuttle. Part of him— no,—

»@OfHacktivism« He ran his hand under his eyes, trying to clear up some of the moisture there. He felt like he'd been ripped apart from—

»@OfHacktivism« —sorry, Daisy..."

»@OfHacktivism« —much as he blamed himself. Tears hit the ground by his feet and he grit his teeth. He should /not/ be crying. "I-...I'm—

»@OfHacktivism« —fell to the ground, in grief or shame he didn't know. He wouldn't blame her if she hated him now. Or if she blamed him as—

»@OfHacktivism« —were somewhere all alone, but now he looked at a broken Daisy Johnson and he felt himself begin to crumble too. His head—

»@OfHacktivism« —felt better than he did. He knew there were much more tragedies out there. Ward still walked the earth. Hunter and Bobbi—