2016

"Have you attempted to contact Jennifer Coulson?" Agent Ross's voice was sharp, each word a calculated jab.

"No."

"Has Jennifer Coulson attempted to contact you?"

"No."

"Do you have any information on the whereabouts or—"

"I told you, no. My sister has not contacted me or Emily since she left two years ago. I said I would reach out if that changed." Matt pinched the bridge of his nose, a habit he had developed to stave off mounting frustration. Letting out a small huff, he continued, "If that's all, I'm now late to pick up Emily—"

"Yes, Mr. Coulson, you can go now." Agent Ross snorted, dismissing him with a wave of his hand.

Matt shoved his chair back and rose, irritation simmering beneath his surface. He leaned forward slightly, resting his palms on the cold table, his eyes boring into Ross's. "But you do know—she is one of the best in her field, smarter and stronger than anyone I've ever met. I doubt she'd make the mistake of crossing your path again, Mr. Ross."

"Agent," Ross corrected him with a glare.

Matt smirked, relishing the small victory. With a quick turn on his heels, he skirted out of the CIA interrogation hall. The atmosphere in the bullpen was tense; agents moved about with purpose, their eyes darting toward him as he passed.

He clutched his book bag tightly, the familiar weight a reminder of his mission: finding his sister. The idea that JJ was being painted as some corrupt "Public Enemy No. 1" was ludicrous. She wouldn't have betrayed anyone, especially not S.H.I.E.L.D. Matt knew of its downfall, the web of lies spun by Hydra, and he refused to believe the smear campaign the CIA was peddling.

Concern gnawed at him. JJ was resilient, a warrior in every sense, yet losing contact with her for nearly two years would unravel even the most steadfast of minds.

Matt shuffled up to his Honda, digging into his bag with growing annoyance, the digging intensity reflecting his anxiety.

"Dammit, I must have left my keys in there," he muttered under his breath, frustration boiling over. He was about to head back into headquarters when a soft jingling noise behind him made him whirl around.

"Looking for these, pretty boy?" Shemar stood there, a teasing smile on his face as he dangled the keys in front of him.

"Shemar." Relief washed over Matt, quickly replaced by the weight of the moment. He shifted his bookbag behind him, the worry creeping back in.

"How are you holding up?"

"Honestly? Not well." Matt heaved a sigh, glancing away to hide his vulnerability. "I've tried to keep up the act for Emily, but this is—I'm falling apart. The secrecy, the bullshit—wanting so badly for her to come home—"

"Come here." Shemar spoke tenderly, wrapping him in a tight embrace. He felt Matt's quiet sobs escape, the weight of fear and uncertainty spilling over.

He pulled away slowly, allowing Matt's watery eyes to meet his. Shemar cupped his face, his thumb brushing away a stray tear, his gaze softening with concern. "Has... has she reached out to you?"

Matt whipped his head away, anger flaring within him like a wildfire. "You—I can't believe you just asked that! I told you exactly what I told them. JJ hasn't sent a letter, called, or 'dropped by for dinner', okay? She hasn't contacted us!" His voice rose, nostrils flaring as he gripped his shoulder bag strap tighter.

"Okay, all right. I'm sorry. I had to ask," Shemar muttered, his tone subdued, the warmth replaced by concern.

Matt watched warily as Shemar shifted his weight, unable to meet his eyes. He sniffled and wiped his nose with the back of his hand, feeling the tension in the air. "Yeah, well, you and everybody else."

"Matt, I—"

"I have to go. Emily's waiting—"

"Oh... yes, sure, sorry. I'll talk to you soon, okay?"

Matt rubbed his inflamed eyes again. "Yeah, sure."

Shemar reached out, gripping Matt's hand as he turned away. Matt swiveled back, eyeing their clasped hands and the guilt radiating from the man who'd never failed to make him weak in the knees.

"I'm sorry, Matt. Truly."

Matt stepped in close, lacing his fingers with Shemar's. He lifted their interlaced hands, placing a timid kiss on the back of Matt's hand before finally meeting his gaze again.

"I know." Matt smiled sadly, the warmth of their connection a fleeting solace in a world spiraling out of control.

Tugging himself away, Matt turned toward his vehicular sanctuary. He slid into the driver's seat and tossed his bag on the passenger side, revving the engine to life. As he peeled out of the parking lot, he briefly glanced at his bookbag, a tearful look haunting his features.

Did Shemar see it in his eyes? Did he somehow know that buried deep in his bag was a new letter from JJ?

A sudden vibration in his pocket broke his heart's focus on the disappearing vehicle. Seeing the caller ID, Shemar grimaced and pressed the answer icon.

"Did you get anything out of him?" Agent Ross's voice crackled through the phone, impatient and commanding.

"No, sir, but I think he knows more than he's letting on," Shemar conceded, a weight pressing down on him.

"I think so too. Stay on him, Coleman. He knows where she is."

"Understood, sir."

Shemar huffed a heavy sigh as Agent Ross disconnected the call, worry pooling in his gut. He watched the parking lot as Matt's car disappeared, knowing that their lives were about to change forever.