Chapter Text
The mission was supposed to be routine—a simple recon to retrieve stolen S.H.I.E.L.D. tech from a Hydra facility. But nothing about the ominous energy signatures Fitz detected screamed “routine.”
The Hydra lab buzzed with tension as the team moved through its stark halls. Daisy led the way, her instincts sharp, while Coulson and Mack flanked FitzSimmons. The energy signatures Fitz detected had only grown stronger as they descended, radiating from a strange device mounted on a raised platform.
The team stood just outside the lab as Fitz adjusted his scanner. “This… this shouldn’t even exist,” he stammered.
“What shouldn’t?” Daisy asked, crouching beside him.
Fitz glanced at her with wide eyes. “This isn’t just tech. It’s—”
“Something feels off,” Daisy murmured, her hand hovering near her ICER.
“You’re telling me,” Mack muttered. “This place is giving me flashbacks to the Monolith.”
Jemma exchanged a glance with Fitz. “Could it be another portal? The readings are… similar.”
Fitz frowned. “Similar, but not the same. This energy—it’s manipulating space-time, not just opening it. If someone’s been tampering with it—”
Before he could finish, the device emitted a low hum that rapidly escalated into a deafening roar. A shockwave rippled through the room, and everything blurred into blinding light.
When the light faded, they were no longer in the Hydra lab.
The air was heavy, tinged with the smell of smoke and metal. The buildings around them were grim monoliths, adorned with crimson banners bearing Hydra’s emblem. Armed patrols marched in the distance, their boots pounding in unison.
Mack was the first to recover. “What the hell just happened?”
Fitz checked his scanner, his face pale. “We’re… not in Kansas anymore.”
Mack looked around, her body tense. “No kidding. This looks like a Hydra recruitment poster threw up all over reality.”
Coulson’s jaw tightened. “Stay sharp. We need to figure out what we’re dealing with and how to get back.”
As they moved cautiously through the city, it became increasingly clear that this wasn’t just an alternate timeline—it was a nightmare. S.H.I.E.L.D. was nonexistent. Resistance was crushed before it could begin. Hydra ruled unchallenged.
And then they saw her.
The first encounter was like a punch to the gut.
They were cornered in an alley, Hydra soldiers closing in, their rifles raised. But it wasn’t the soldiers who froze them in place—it was their leader.
Daisy.
Her hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, and her black combat suit bore Hydra’s emblem. Her posture was commanding, her expression cold. She moved like a predator, her every step calculated.
“Quake,” one of the soldiers said, “they’re unregistered and armed.”
Her lips curled into a faint smirk as she eyed the team. “Well, well. Looks like we’ve got ourselves a little rebellion.”
Coulson stepped forward, his voice calm but laced with urgency. “Daisy, it’s us. Don’t you recognize—”
He didn’t even finish before she flicked her wrist. A seismic wave rippled through the ground, knocking him back.
“That’s far enough,” she said, her voice cool and unwavering. “Take them in.”
The team resisted, but they were outnumbered. Quake watched impassively as they were overpowered and restrained.
As the soldiers pulled them away, Jemma’s voice rang out, raw and desperate. “Daisy, please! It’s me! It’s Jemma!”
For a split second, something flickered in Quake’s expression. Confusion? Recognition? But then it was gone, replaced by steely resolve.
“I don’t know you,” she said coldly.
Jemma’s heart shattered as they were dragged into the Hydra stronghold. Simmons struggled against her captors, her gaze fixed on Daisy. “This isn’t you!” she cried.
But Quake didn’t even flinch.
The team was dragged to a Hydra stronghold, their hands bound, their equipment confiscated. The facility was a cold labyrinth of steel and concrete, designed to crush the spirit of anyone who entered.
In separate cells, they could do little but wait. Coulson, pacing his confined space, racked his brain for a plan. Fitz paced anxiously, muttering calculations under his breath as he tried to make sense of their predicament. Mack sat on the edge of his cot, glaring at the Hydra guards who passed by.
Coulson leaned against the wall of his cell, his mind racing. “This isn’t just an alternate timeline,” he muttered to himself. “This is a reality where S.H.I.E.L.D. never existed.”
Jemma sat on the floor of her cell, her arms wrapped tightly around herself. The image of Daisy—her Daisy—standing there in Hydra black, her eyes void of warmth, played over and over in her mind.
“I don’t know you.”
The words cut deeper than she thought possible.
It wasn’t long before Coulson was taken for interrogation. He expected the usual Hydra tactics—intimidation, threats, maybe some light torture. What he didn’t expect was to find himself face-to-face with Daisy in the interrogation room.
“You’re not exactly what I’d call a high-value target,” Quake said, her tone dry as she leaned against the table.
Coulson studied her, searching for any sign of the woman he knew. “I’ve been called worse.”
Her lips twitched, but the smile didn’t reach her eyes. “Why don’t you save us both some time and tell me who sent you?”
He leaned forward, his voice soft but steady. “No one sent us. We’re not from here.”
Her expression hardened. “You expect me to believe that?”
“I expect you to remember,” Coulson said. “Daisy, this isn’t who you are. You’re not Hydra. You’re S.H.I.E.L.D. You’re a hero.”
For a moment, her mask slipped. Her fingers brushed the Hydra emblem on her suit, and her brow furrowed as if she were trying to remember something just out of reach.
But then she stood abruptly, her walls back up. “Nice try,” she said coolly before leaving the room.
Jemma wasn’t surprised when she was the next to be interrogated. What she didn’t expect was for Daisy—her Daisy, or at least some version of her—to be the one asking the questions.
As Quake entered the room, Jemma’s breath hitched. Despite the Hydra insignia, despite the coldness in her demeanor, she was still Daisy.
“Daisy,” she said softly, her voice trembling despite her resolve.
Quake’s eyes narrowed. “You’re persistent, I’ll give you that. But my name is Quake.”
“No, it’s not,” Jemma replied, stepping closer. “It’s Daisy Johnson. You’re an agent of S.H.I.E.L.D., and you’ve saved my life more times than I can count.”
Quake scoffed. “You’ve got the wrong girl.”
“I don’t,” Jemma insisted. “You may not remember me, but I know you. I know your heart, Daisy. And this? This isn’t it.”
Quake sat across from her, studying her with an almost clinical detachment. “You’re a scientist,” she said, her tone unreadable. “Your file says you’re brilliant.”
Jemma met her gaze, refusing to flinch. “And yours says you’re a hero.”
Quake’s expression darkened. “Is that what they told you?”
“It’s not just what they told me,” Jemma said softly. “It’s what I know. I know you, Daisy.”
“You don’t know me,” Quake snapped. “I was born to Hydra. Raised to lead. You don’t know a damn thing about me.”
Jemma’s heart ached at the venom in her voice. “I know more than you realize,” she whispered.
For a moment, Quake seemed to falter. Her eyes darted to the ground, her hands trembling ever so slightly.
“Stop,” she whispered, her voice barely audible. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I do,” Jemma said, her own voice breaking. “You’re my friend. My family. And I refuse to let Hydra take you from me.”
Quake turned away, her shoulders tense. “I’m not who you think I am,” she said, her voice hollow.
“You are,” Jemma said firmly. “And I’ll prove it.”
The words lingered in Quake’s mind long after Jemma was dragged back to her cell.
“You’re my family. And I refuse to let Hydra take you from me.”
Family. The word clawed at something buried deep inside her, but she shoved it down, forcing herself to focus on the Hydra report in front of her. The rebels had been identified as a significant threat, yet their claims still gnawed at her.
Who is Daisy Johnson?
She dismissed the thought with a shake of her head. Quake didn’t have time for distractions. Hydra’s work was too important—she was too important.
And yet, when the next mission briefing came, she found herself watching the rebels’ profiles on the monitor for a moment too long.
In the cells, Jemma huddled close to Fitz, her voice low. “She hesitated, Fitz. I saw it. There’s still a part of her that remembers.”
Fitz adjusted the makeshift device he’d been working on. “Maybe, but it’s not enough to rely on hesitation. If we’re going to get out of here and save her, we need to act fast.”
Coulson leaned in. “What’s the plan?”
Fitz held up the small device, a rudimentary EMP built from parts scavenged during their capture. “This will disable the cell doors and most of their security systems for about five minutes.”
“That’s all we’ll need,” Mack said confidently.
Jemma, however, wasn’t convinced. “And what about Daisy? We can’t just leave her here like this.”
Coulson nodded. “We won’t. But if we’re going to reach her, we’ll need to remind her who she really is.”
Quake stared at the glowing holographic map on the table in front of her. The rebels’ escape from a Hydra facility weeks ago replayed in her mind. Something about their words refused to let her go.
“Quake?” A voice snapped her back to reality. It was Commander Blake, her superior. “Your focus seems divided.”
“Apologies, sir,” she replied smoothly. “The prisoners… their claims are strange. One of them said they knew me.”
Blake’s gaze hardened. “They’re insurgents. Manipulators. Don’t let them get into your head.”
She nodded, but the unease didn’t fade.
“Finish the interrogation,” Blake ordered. “If they don’t talk, they’re expendable.”
Her stomach twisted at the command, but she masked it with a curt nod. “Understood.”
Fitz’s EMP worked perfectly. The cell doors slid open with a hiss, and the team sprang into action. Coulson and Mack took point, dispatching guards with precision, while Jemma stayed close to Fitz, clutching a Hydra weapon she barely knew how to use.
As they moved through the labyrinthine stronghold, Jemma’s thoughts kept drifting to Daisy.
“She’ll come after us,” she whispered to Fitz.
“Then we’ll be ready,” he replied grimly.
But Jemma wasn’t sure she would be. Facing Daisy as an enemy had been hard enough—what would she do if they couldn’t bring her back?
They didn’t have to wait long. As they reached the control room, Quake was already there, waiting for them. Her arms were crossed, her expression unreadable.
“Well, that’s impressive,” she said dryly, glancing at the disabled systems around her. “You made it further than most.”
“Daisy,” Coulson began, stepping forward, “you don’t have to do this. You don’t have to be their weapon.”
She tilted her head. “That’s funny. Because I don’t feel like a weapon—I feel like I’m exactly where I’m supposed to be.”
Mack stepped up, his tone firmer. “They’ve brainwashed you. Hydra has twisted everything you are.”
Her gaze flicked to Jemma. “You’re all so determined to make me into someone I’m not. Why is that?”
“Because we know you,” Jemma said, her voice trembling. “Because we love you.”
Something flickered in Quake’s eyes, but she quickly looked away. “Enough of this.” She raised her hand, the air vibrating with seismic energy.
“Don’t make us do this,” Coulson warned.
Quake hesitated, her hand shaking. But then the door behind her opened, and Commander Blake entered, flanked by Hydra reinforcements.
“Kill them,” Blake ordered.