Compromised

Coulson hadn't been the same since the Guest House. Everyone could see it. Whatever he saw in there before they managed to get out had him shaken and unhinged. His actions just prior to that should have been a warning sign. Ward didn't like using real guns on real people unless it was absolutely necessary. Coulson ordering them not to use the nite-nite guns, despite that being the very reason they were created, and it being the most logical choice to use them, should have told him something was up. He should have objected.

But he didn't, because Skye was hurt. He shot those men dead, because his rookie was hurt.

Coulson was coming unhinged. Everyone could see it.

Their leader was losing it, meaning that trust within the team was of absolute importance. When May of all people was revealed to be a spy, the hinge broke further. Coulson was more shattered after that news than before. Hearing that his closest friend on the Bus was spying on him, reporting his actions to someone in the shadows, the cracks he was already showing only grew larger.

"Who are you reporting to?"

Watching him interrogate her like a criminal was hard to watch, for multiple reasons. She may have been a double agent, but this was still May. She was their friend, their teammate; she didn't deserve to have questions fired at her like she was a terrorist. In hindsight, letting Coulson question her in the first place was a mistake. He shouldn't have been in there.

"Who are you reporting to? Answer me."

Watching her sit there silently, head down and shoulders slumped was hard for him. This was the same woman who tore his heart out just a few weeks ago, but he had been trying to sort it out in his head. He still cared about her. More than cared. He was the second most hurt by her reveal after Coulson.

"May, do you hear me?"

Her head rose slowly. He could see the pain and guilt in her eyes. "Yes."

"Then answer me." Anger was barely restrained in his voice.

Ward knew her answer before she gave it. "I can't tell you."

Coulson's fist slammed against the metal table. May flinched involuntarily. "You'd better. You owe me that much," he spat.

"Phil –"

"Unless it's an answer, don't."

She remained silent, letting whatever plea she had prepared die on the tip of her tongue.

Ward could feel his jaw tightening.

Coulson sighed heavily and stood.

"Phil, please. You have to tru–"

"Trust you? I did. Then I found out you were a double agent."

He left, slamming the door behind him. He said nothing to anyone as he brushed by them en route to his office.

May sunk her head and hid her face in her hands. He could feel something tightening in his chest. This was the same woman who left him right when he needed her. He was well within his rights to turn his back on her when she needed him. But he couldn't. "Skye, Simmons, check on Coulson after a while. Fitz, do something," he ordered, with no room for arguments in his voice.

When they left, he approached the interrogation room.

"Guess we're done here," she stated coldly. More coldly than she had ever regard him.

The knob felt heavy when he turned it to open the door. He entered silently and closed the door behind him. She didn't react to the soft click of the door closing. Her breathing was soft, but he could hear faint hitches. Melinda May didn't cry. But there was one man in the world who could coax tears from her.

He sat down as silently as he entered, folded his hands on the table, and just watched her quietly.

Her head shook, a soft murmurs trickled out of trembling lips. They sounded like apologies.

He took a deep breath. "May."

Her head shot up. Her slightly reddened eyes, glistening on the edges of her bottoms eyelids, clouded with more guilt.

"Just," he started before stopping abruptly. Seeing her broken like this was like watching something so painful that all he wanted to do was avert his eyes. But he couldn't, because she needed him. She may not have valued him as much as he did her, but he wasn't going to leave her. "Just tell me the truth."

"I can't."

He could see it in her eyes; the truth was right on the edge of her tongue, but something was blocking it. "Why not?"

"I have my orders." Her eyes sunk to the table. Her hands cupped her own cheeks for a moment before slowly falling to the table. They were trembling.

"The Clairvoyant?"

She shook her head.

That was a relief. Skye said that Quinn said the same thing before he shot her, so he had to be sure. "Please, just tell me." He wasn't pleading, but there was a certain want in his voice that indicated that who she was reporting to wasn't the only thing on his mind. It wasn't. He couldn't help it. There were more important things to worry about, but if she couldn't tell, she wasn't going to.

She swallowed. She caught the memo.

"Is he safe?"

"Yes," she said desperately. "Please, you have to believe me. He isn't in any danger from us."

He licked his lips and eyed her carefully. Her eyes were filled with so much guilt that he thought they were going to burst. It would have been the first thing she made sure of before taking an assignment like this, he was certain. If she said Coulson was safe, he was going to believe her. "Okay."

"You don't always have to think the worst of me," she murmured so softly that he almost didn't catch it at first.

He breath caught in his throat. "Guess we're done here." She looked up and looked him dead in the eye. They shared a gaze for what seemed like hours. "Then why?"

She closed her eyes. "I've been compromised, Agent Ward."

That was the last thing he wanted to hear. And also the first thing. "In that case, we definitely aren't done here. I'll try again later."

She nodded.

He nodded back, and then left as silently as he entered. Coulson was standing there with Skye, Fitz and Simmons.

"Why?" was all he asked.

He licked his lips again. "Because, she needs someone to trust her. I still do."

"Why?" It was Skye this time.

"She once told me not to think the worst of her, so I'm not. May doesn't do things without a reason; I aim to find out what it is." It was as simple as that.


His watch struck three in the morning. The team was asleep, having booked motel rooms for the night in a small town in Idaho. All but him, anyway. He had volunteered to stay on the Bus with May to keep an eye on her. It was only them, giving him an opportunity to get the answers he had been silently begging for for weeks.

He stalked quietly until he reached her prison cell. She was sitting on the bed, not in it, arms propped on her knees and chin buried in her chest. He thought she would have been asleep, but then, he should have known better.

The door opened and closed quietly.

"You're here," she stated.

"I said I would be." He walked cautiously until he was standing beside her. Slowly, he lowered himself until he was sitting. The bed creaked as it adjusted to his added weight. He was certain that everything he wanted to do right then was against protocol. When it came to her, it could have gone to hell for all he cared.

"I know."

He didn't move to comfort her, like he wanted to. He didn't kiss her, like he wanted to. Sitting this close to her made her words play through his head on repeat. Hearing and watching her end it over and over and over and over again made him angry. Seeing her broken and defeated like this stayed his anger. "Does what you said to me back then have anything to do with this?"

She shook her head slowly.

He was afraid of that. It couldn't have been that simple. "Then what? Tell me." He was close to demanding, but he spoke softly. Calmly. He needed to know, but she was too fragile for him to handle her like he normally would.

She didn't answer for a long time. He thought that she was trying to come up with a lie. Could she? In this frame of mind, where she could barely muster up the gumption to speak, could she actually lie to him? He wasn't sure if he wanted an answer to that. Half of him just wanted to believe whatever she told him and move on. The other half wasn't leaving until she told him the truth. Even if it took all night. He was leaning toward the latter half.

She breathed in shakily, and exhaled slowly. Calming breath, maybe. "She said that you desired someone, and that it wasn't me."

At first, he had no idea what she was talking about. Then, it hit him.

Lorelei.

Even thinking the name made a torrent of bile rush up his throat and nearly spewed over the floor. He breathed in sharply and forced it back down. The taste of blood filled his mouth.

"You don't want me, not really. So I ended it."

It was so succint, so politic, that he almost thought that she was back to her usual self again. Seeing her sagging shoulders told him otherwise.

He remembered what he told Lorelei. "Who did I desire before you? Heh. Okay, there was this woman on the plane. She was brave, had a heart of fire and cared deeply about her friends. And she was so beautiful. I loved her. I knew that I could always go to her for a wise word or a good lay, either way."

"'Tis this 'The Cavalry', is it not?"

He cackled. "No. The Cavalry doesn't give a shit about anyone."

He shook involuntarily until her voice was out of his head. "May –"

"You have your answer. Get some sleep."

"May, I told her that the woman I desire was brave, strong, with a fiery heart and cared deeply about her friends." He sighed in deeply and touched her hand. "I also said that she was beautiful."

Her hand jerked away as she snorted derisively. "You're describing any woman but me, Ward."

"No." He reached and grabbed her hand. "I told Lore… Lorelei what I saw in you. What only I have seen in you. She must have gotten you and your other side confused."

Her hand was a limp as a corpse, and just as clammy. She was just as silent. She breathed softly. "Is that how you see me? As someone who cares about people?"

"It is."

"How? I dumped you when you needed a shoulder to lean on." Her words were harsh, but not aimed entirely toward him. He could taste the self-deprecating undertones laced in them.

His sigh was sharp and short. "You said you were compromised."

She grunted.

"You weren't talking about your 'employer'."

She was silent for a long time. Her hand was still limp within his grasp. He was afraid that she wouldn't listen, that he was going to lose her forever. He didn't think that he could go on on the Bus, seeing her everyday, being in close contact with her everyday, while knowing that they could never go back to the way things were.

He needed her.

"I wasn't."

Melinda was an enigma wrapped in a mystery in the form of the most beautiful woman he had ever met. Her most endearing qualities were also her most frustrating. He was angry at himself for giving her another chance like this. He should have given her shit. He was well within his rights to. But he didn't.

"I'm sorry it turned out like this," he said quietly. He gave her hand a squeeze and let it slip from his fingers. He stood, the bed creaking in the coming absence of his weight, and walked to the door.

"Grant."

He didn't stop until he was halfway out the door.

"Stay." It was said with none of her authoritative command, and sounded everything like a plea. "I need you." Her voice cracked at the end.

He closed his eyes. An entirely new can of worms was presented to him. Coulson, if he found out about this, wasn't going to be happy. That much was an understatement. Despite that very real possibility, he stepped back inside and closed the door.

He was just as compromised.


A/N: I'll leave it open for your imaginations to run wild ;)