summary: alternate ending for 1.17 "turn, turn, turn". character study of melinda may.

author's note: title(s) from beyonce's "run the world (girls)"

spoilers: for agents of s.h.i.e.l.d. episode 1.17 "turn, turn, turn" and captain america: the winter soldier.


run the world

Victoria Hand smiles, vicious, at the sight of Garrett in cuffs. She cocks her head in thought when Agent Ward asks permission to escort her, and she has to admit, she's tempted. She's known Garrett for years; almost as long as Coulson has. Still, she can't know what it means to have him as her SO, betrayal sitting deep in her gut, rotting away. It's on the tip of her tongue to say yes, but she'd be stupid to rip Coulson's team apart even more so than it already is.

She sees Agent May picking up debris in the background.

Well.

More than Coulson's already ripped it apart himself, she thinks.

"Agent May," she calls out, not even sure what she's doing even as she does it. "Would you mind escorting the Hydra agents to the Fridge with me?"

Agent May raises an eyebrow, and glances towards Coulson. He keeps his back towards her, and Victoria files that information away. She can hear the Widow saying "love is for children" echoing in her mind, but who the hell knew what went on in Melinda May's mind. Maybe she did love Coulson, and if so, this type of thing would be as damaging as Bahrain. Best to remove her from the situation while she could.

May nods, and Victoria smiles.


When Melinda turns away and leaves the central control room, she knows what she's walking away from. She's walking away from the Bus, from this team, from Phil. She's not okay with it, not in the least, but what other choice does she have? She won't apologize to him. Not for following orders, not for protecting him, not for doing her damn duty.

"Agent May! Agent May!"

She doesn't want to turn, doesn't want to acknowledge the wayward engineer chasing her. She's done with them all now, isn't she?

"Agent May, please!"

Her rapid stomp slows to crawl, allowing Fitz to catch up to her.

He doesn't slap his hands to knees, huffing and puffing dramatically in the way she had come to expect from him, before the team had come together. Instead, he simply looks in her the eyes, assessing.

She waits, feeling the blood drip down her face, feels the aches in a body that just might be getting too old for these kinds of things.

Finally, when Melinda is more than ready to turn on her heel and find the nearest flat surface to pass out on, Fitz speaks.

"I get it now."

Melinda raises an eyebrow.

"I get why you shot me."

"It was an ICER," she grits out.

Fitz scrunches his nose, like he wants to argue the point, but continues on his previous train of thought. "That doesn't matter. I get why you shot me. It was to protect Coulson; to protect all of us."

Fitz looks like he's waiting for some big declaration of understanding on her part, but she doesn't have the energy for it.

"You knew if Coulson found out about the private line, if we all found it, it would splinter the team. It would create trust issues. You were just looking out for him. The same way Simmons and I were looking out for Skye."

"You sent out the blood sample, didn't you?"

To his credit, Fitz doesn't wince.

"No," he wavers. "Simmons took it to a lab in the hub to analyze it." He says all of this very quickly, and Melinda knows if she hadn't been working him for as long as she has, she wouldn't have a clue what he was getting at. For a moment she thinks of berating him, but she sharply reminds herself: this isn't her business any more. Even if she continues to fly the Bus, her time as a team member, as a part of this family, is over.

"Thank you."

Fitz looks jarred at her statement, and the surprise makes him look even younger. The tear tracks are in sharp relief against the dirt on his face.

"You saved my life," she clarifies. "Coulson's too. We'd all be dead if it weren't for you."

Fitz winces.

"The grenade was luck," he mutters. "I've never shot any one like that before."

He's looking at his feet, and Melinda wouldn't be surprised if he'd started crying again. Against her own better judgment, she nudges his chin up so that she can look him in the eye.

"You saved my life," she repeats. He nods, accepting it.

She echoes his nod, pats him gently on the shoulder, and turns to leave. She knew dealing with the fallout from Phil would be difficult, but she hadn't ever thought the rest of the team would break her heart.


The ride to the Fridge is as boring as the attack on the Hub was dramatic.

Garrett has two armed guards at him at any point, plus Melinda's own vengeful glare. Ward had put up what she considered to be an unnecessary fuss about her escorting him; she assumes he just wanted a chance to enact a little personal revenge. She wonders if he'll ever truly get a handle on his emotions. Somehow she doubts it.

Agent Hand makes snide comments about Garrett's silence, no doubt hoping to goad him into action. Melinda knows how Hand feels about loose ends, and she most likely would rather Garrett and the rest of the Hydra agents killed. Being that she was most likely the highest ranking SHIELD operative still alive, she could fully well make that decision. But Hand was too intelligent to make those type of gut decisions, which was why she'd ended up in such a high ranking position to begin with. Melinda is grateful for the chance to sit and settle, ignoring the absence of the mindless chatter of the Bus.

The drop off at the Fridge causes a bit of anxiety: no one thought to ensure that the place was clear of Hydra before flying over. Each agent is privately interviewed in an attempt to vet them for loyalty, but it's clear Agent Hand isn't quite sure how the process should go. What worked for Triplett and Simmons isn't going to work for everyone, and it's 36 hours of being parked outside before they actually escort Garrett in to his cell.

They hit another road block when the cell needs two senior officers to access it.

Hand looks ready to pull out her carefully dyed hair before turning sharply to Melinda and snapping, "Welcome to level eight, Agent May," and striding over to the nearest console to upgrade Melinda's credentials.

Halfway up the walkway into the plane, Agent Hand says, "Hope you don't mind a detour before we head back to the Hub. Your team's already left, but we can figure out a rendezvous easy enough."

May's response is a curt nod, but she winces internally at the thought of Phil picking up and leaving without a word. She's not sure what else she expected.


Their detour ends up being in New York. Stark Towers, to be specific.

Melinda fights the urge to groan. She'd say she's been through too much recently to want to deal with Tony Stark, but really, she never wants to deal with the man. She was grateful that the Widow's infiltration and undercover skills far outstripped her own; she doesn't know how Romanoff survived those months with Iron Man.

Turns out they're not here to see Tony Stark.

They're here to recruit Maria Hill.

Melinda knows she shouldn't be surprised; she knows about what happened at the Triskelion. The same thing, if on a lesser scale, has been happening all across the globe. Hydra agents have come out of the woodwork at every SHIELD facility, and not many have come out of it in as good condition as the Hub.

She and Agent Hand are led into a well-furnished corner office, with large paneled windows and a beautiful view of the city. Maria is on the phone, speaking Spanish in the same slow, lilting voice she once used to provide op information.

Melinda stands by the door as Victoria seats herself across Maria.

When Maria finishes her phone call, she doesn't give Victoria a chance to speak.

"Do you know who that was?"

It's a rhetorical question, and Victoria knows it.

"That was my mother. I haven't been able to tell her what I do at work for twenty years."

Victoria doesn't waver.

"The safety of world charts a little higher than the small talk you make with your mother, Agent Hill."

"It's Maria now. Or Ms. Hill, if you're so inclined." Maria leans back into her chair.

"SHIELD needs you, Maria. The world needs you."

Maria laughs. "Leave the inspirational speeches to Nick, Victoria. You're too stern to carry it off."

Melinda can't help it. Her hands clench into fists. There's no way Maria doesn't know.

"At ease, Agent May," Maria calls to her. "And come sit; we're safe here. I'm sure of it."

Maria is waving at her genially, gesturing to chair next to Victoria. Melinda envies her this, this ability to blend back into civilian life as if she'd never left it. Despite Maria's assurances, she has already catalogued every threat and exit pathway from this office. Sitting in the chair Maria has indicated would leave her back vulnerable and limit her line of sight, which is probably why Maria had set up her office that way. It irritates her to comply, but she does it any way.

"I'm not surprised you don't know." Maria addresses the both of them. "Computer, privacy mode. Level: absolute."

The change is dramatic, but as this is a Stark building, Melinda isn't fazed. The windows shutter, the locks on the door clicks shut, and even the computer goes dark. Overhead lights flicker on, and the room takes on an eerie look.

"Nick Fury is alive," Maria announces. "I don't know where he is, and I don't know his plans, but I know he's alive."

"And SHIELD?" Victoria prompts.

"I don't know, but I doubt he'll be staying on as Director. The World Security Council is still in shambles after what Pierce did, and we don't know how likely their replacements will be Hydra operatives. He's gone rogue," Maria's grin is back.

"Then you are needed even more, Maria. You should step up as Director."

Maria snorted indelicately. "You need a director. You don't need me."

Victoria's patience was clearly running thin, but this was not Melinda's area of expertise. She stayed quiet. "You are the highest ranking SHIELD Agent that is still available to us. Our organization is reeling, Maria, and I do not think we could withstand another blow. Without your direction, SHIELD stands to lose everything we have spent seventy years working towards. Are you truly going to condemn the world to Hydra?"

Maria's eyes narrows, all traces of humor gone. "Do not preach history to me, Agent Hand. You have no idea what I have given to SHIELD." Maria shakes her head. "I don't expect you to understand. I do expect you to respect my wishes."

Victoria sighs and stands. She and Melinda make their way to the door.

"A word of advice, though. Don't make Coulson Director."

Victoria stops with her hand on the doorknob.

"Understood, Maria."

Maria raises the privacy screens and they leave without another word.

Melinda wonders how her team is doing without her.


The return to the Hub is uneventful, and Melinda is beginning to feel an itch under her skin. She recognizes it from her early days in Administration, when she could blank out the details of Bahrain, of other missions that had eaten away at her, piece by piece. Compared to the copying and collating and filing, the excitement of the field and the joy of doing what she was best at was tempting. But she had reigned it in then, and she knows she is more than capable of doing it again. It simply surprises her how much she doesn't want to. She wants to be back on the Bus, sharing looks with Phil, sighing at FitzSimmons's antics, sparring with Ward, protecting Skye. She wants to be back with her family.

Slowly by slowly, the Hub is being rebuilt. Students are helping where they can, but no one thinks for a second that their age protects them from possible Hydra connections. Melinda hates this time of suspicion and paranoia, but believing themselves to be fool-proof has clearly led to disaster.

Victoria does not name herself Director. Instead, she is constantly on the phone, discussing the state of the remaining SHIELD facilities, how quickly the World Security Council can be rebuilt, and if the Triskelion and Project Insight should be scrapped completely. Melinda knows she's talking to Coulson's team, but Hand never breathes a word to her.

Meanwhile, Melinda has taken on the duties that Hand herself used to attend to. She's drafting missions, analyzing behavioral data to weed out possible Hydra agents, assembling Ops teams, restructuring classes to suit their imbalance of teachers to students. She doesn't sleep much, but she's grateful for the work.

It's three months before any one from the Bus speaks to her. Of course, it's completely by accident.

Their biotechnological sectors have been hard hit by Hydra. It's natural that Hand would contact Simmons to assist in the rebuilding process. But still, it's a shock to walk into the control center and see her young face blown up on their largest screen.

Simmons is in the middle of politely, if not adamantly, refusing to return to the Hub to teach, saying she's needed on board on the Bus, that she's never been cut out for teaching, and that she'd skipped so many classes that it wouldn't even make sense for her to attempt to teach them, when she catches sight of Melinda. Her eyes widen and her jaw falls open, but nothing comes out.

Finally, she breathes out, "Agent May."

For once, Melinda cannot read Simmons's expression, but she wants to believe that the girl misses her. She's not foolish enough to be very confident in that interpretation.

"Agent Simmons," Hand prompts. "If you will not return to the Hub to teach, we would still request your presence to help get the Biochemical department under some semblance of control. Our highest ranking agent in that field on base is Tancharoen and she's only just graduated last year."

Simmons pouts unhappily, but still shakes her head no.

"I'm terribly sorry, Director Hand, but I just can't."

The video wavers and Melinda can tell that the Bus has shifted suddenly. Simmons has gripped the edges of the holotable nervously, looking around.

"It's still Agent," Hand says, but it's clear that she's lost Simmons's attention.

"Again, terribly sorry, Direc – Agent Hand, but I really must go. Thank you for the offer!"

Victoria sighs.

"I could collect her, if necessary." Melinda supplies, unsure about the offer she's making.

"If I were Director, I could order her to return. Agent Fitz too. Hell, that whole team should be back here, helping with rebuilding this damn place."

Melinda is silent.

"I know you'd rather be with them, Agent May." Victoria shifts her feet, and Melinda mindlessly catalogs the motion as anxiety. "I've been meaning to have this conversation with you for weeks now, but with how busy we've been, I haven't had the chance. Coulson has requested that you not be returned to the Bus, Melinda."

She knows the use of her first name is meant to soften the blow, but she and Hand had never been that close.

"Tomorrow at 0800 I am making the announcement that I am stepping up as Director of SHIELD. And if you would be so inclined, I would like you to be my Deputy Director. Of course, that isn't a lot of time to think about – "

"Yes."

If Victoria was surprised by her quick response, she doesn't show it.

"Alright then. Let's get to work."