This is set the night after they get to the Playground and Coulson's named director, you know, after season 1 before the part when he goes nuts. I know this was like forever ago but I found the draft in my history notebook (XD) and decided to finish it

The water of the shower ran freely down her back. She closed her eyes as it hit her face, wetting her dry and tired body. There was a knot in her throat. Heaviness in her chest. But she didn't want to cry. She didn't know how to do it either.

Crying was kind of nice, actually. But tears are a privilege. At least that's what Melinda May used to believe. Tears were an equivalent of weeping, of losing control, even if it lasted no more than a few seconds and one tiny drop of salty water. They mean having the right to feel something. And -

She was too exhausted to think. And sad. And angry. So very angry. With Ward. And Hydra. And the freaking world… And Phil.

And she didn't deserve to. Not really. She didn't have to worry about whether she was half extraterrestrial or not, had to deal with brain damage due to hypoxia, had the responsibility of recreating miracle drugs, nor had an agency to rebuild. She was a talented assassin, a pilot and an adult woman, who had left home on her own. She had no right to worry and honestly didn't want to deal with something that was damaged beyond repair. Even if that something was herself.

She was so goddamn angry and she couldn't do anything, because she didn't have a real motive or a solution. Stupid berserker. Stupid Hydra and Ward. Stupid Phil.

May turned off the water and wrapped herself in a towel. She put on her pajamas, black leggings with an old Academy T-Shirt, and looked at the mirror. She wanted to punch herself in the face. She wanted to punch Phil in the face.

So she wasn't exactly thrilled when she came out of the bathroom and found herself meeting face to face the director of S.H.I.E.L.D

"You need something?" she asked dryly.

He scratched his chin both nervously and thoughtfully, trying to find an answer. He was sitting on her bed, one of the few places of her room that remained uncovered with boxes or plastic covers, with the sleeves of his shirt rolled up to his elbows and the top two buttons undone, no tie; in a way that would never let someone else see. Even if her room was dark and she could barely see him, she could notice how damn relaxed he was. And he didn't even know how hard it was for her to not turn away and run.

"I... I just wanted to make sure that everything between us was alright" he finally said. "You know, no hard feelings"

That was the classic and cheesy movie-line that you are supposed to say to a colleague, to someone who's not that close to you and with whom you might never work side by side again. It's not the kind of apology you tell the person who has been your best friend for over thirty years, who have always watched your backs and who you shot.

"I'm sorry" he murmured. "I'm an idiot. It's just that... I'm so glad you are back"

She didn't say anything at first, knowing that if she opened her mouth she would probably yell. But then she took a deep breath, trying to remember that she also wanted to fix their situation. "That was like a century ago, just let it go" she said. She tried to seem optimistic, but her smirk also felt fake and unnatural.

"Thanks" He half-smiled, appreciating the fact that she was as desperate as him to change the subject. "It's really weird, you know? Being the director… not what I expected, though" she raised an eyebrow. "I don't know… maybe a dinner, a restaurant" he shrugged. "Something like that"

"A bouquet of roses too?" she walked towards him and sat down next to him. Heck, even if she wanted to scream her voice off and punch him in the face she also wanted so badly to rest her head on her shoulder, just like she used to do it all those years ago. That 'we're just allies' thing was really killing her.

"Ha, ha. No… It's just that… If I ever imagined myself as the director, I never thought it would be under these circumstances" he admitted. Her wet hair was soaking his own shirt, but he didn't seem to care. "Dinner would have been something… Normal"

May just shrugged. She was begging for him to stop talking, but as long as he wanted to be there with her, she would let him. A proud tiny part of her wanted to believe that no normal human would ever take her down. It was a lie, though. He could tear down all her resolutions and barriers with only a few words.

"You could have come. Also the kids," he continued. He was exhausted; she could tell that by the lack of zest in his voice and the redness in his eyes, framed by deep dark circles. "But, whatever, it doesn't matter anymore… "his gaze fixed in her and he squinted his eyes to see more in the darkness. "May, what do you have on the neck?"

"Nothing" she instinctively covered herself with a hand.

Coulson stood up and turned on the light of her nightstand before approaching her again to take a closer look. And he didn't like what he saw. Her neck had a series of black and purple marks, surrounded by some green and red zones. Her arms also had several wounds, and on the edge of the shirt he could see the spots increase. Reading his thoughts, she rolled up the shirt, showing a series of red and purple bruises on her ribs.

"I'm fine" she assured him. "I swear"

Coulson shook his head in disbelief. He leaned over her and gently stroked the marks of her neck and finally realized what they were. Fingers.

"He tried to strangle you?" he asked with a choked voice.

"I'm fine. He didn't break anything"

"At least you got checked over? By Jemma or…"

"Tomorrow"

"No" he said, frowning. He put a hand over her ribs and applied a small pressure with his thumb and index finger. She bit her tongue, a gesture that was not lost on him. "I think this one is fractured. Stay right here"

"I said no, Coulson" May hissed, standing up.

They looked at each other in the eye. He wasn't surprised by her attitude, not really. He shouldn't be, May thought, because if he had really thought that she would take his words and crap and don't say anything about it, then he didn't knew her at all.

"Why? I can't believe he did this to you, that bastard traitor…" she snorted and he looked at her, incredulous. "What? You don't agree?"

"It's not that" the woman shook her head, walking away to avoid meeting him in the eye. "God, of course I agree, it's just that… Forget it"

"Why are you saying that" replied Coulson, doing the same. "He's just a miserable son of a bitch and…"

"Then what am I?" May interrupted him. She knew she was entering dangerous waters, but she was already too deep to stop herself. "If he's that, in what place I stay?"

"What the hell are you talking about?" he grabbed her wrist and she turned around angrily. "What do you mean?"

"You thought I was the traitor!"

"But you weren't!"

"That's not the point" May let go of his grip and backed off. "You thought I was the traitor! You thought I had killed Bill and betrayed you! If you hate Ward so much, if you don't trust me anymore and we're just allies, does this mean you hate me too? If I had been the traitor and hurt Ward and he was in your side, would you be calling me a bitch right now?"

"This is different, for God's sake!" he exclaimed, kicking a chair. The sweet and eternal gentleman Phil Coulson was gone, and had been replaced for a man that she barely recognized. "This time…"

"No, it's not!" she cut him off fiercely. In the more of thirty years they had known each other, they had never had a fight like that one. They had never yelled at each other like that, and certainly not because of their trust or friendship. "You didn't believe me, even if I begged you! And then you shot me!"

"I know, I'm sorry, it's just that… I panicked!" he said.

"You panicked!?" May snapped, this time looking straight into his eyes. She didn't usually speak that much, but she was too angry and hurt even to think about Bahrain. "Do you have any idea of why I did what I did? Because I was at your fucking funeral!"

"You… You were at my WHAT?!"

"Yes, you had a funeral and I was there!" she yelled, smacking her fist against her wall. Fury told me you were dead and I… I couldn't believe it! I read like four hundred pages of reports from that day, I saw tons of security videos; I went to the hotel you had been staying… I was at your funeral, Phillip!"

"I didn't know…"

"Of course you didn't know!" she laughed bitterly, raising her palms as in an act of innocence. "Because you didn't know I was trying to protect you, and you didn't know what the hell means to hear your only friend is dead! Well, I knew it, and when Fury told me that they could bring you back and that he needed me to protect you, I said fucking yes! Why? Because I was at your funeral! And guess what, that's the only moment I saw in my mind when I held the stupid berserker!" She stopped, still with the air in her lungs. She exhaled andblinked, surprised, as her chest rose and fell with the rhythm of her heavy breathing. She hadn't planned on telling him that, and he just stared at her with his mouth slightly open. "I… I saw Bahrain, but just when I held one piece" She continued with a broken voice, more calmly now. "But then, when the damn thing was complete… I saw you, your funeral. That's why I couldn't face you. That's why I took Ward. And today… I just saw your face, when you yelled at me and shot me. You mean a lot to me. But I guess that you don't care. So goodbye, Phil."

Too much. Too much words, too much pain. Too much of herself going out. May turned around to leave. Where? She had no idea. Maybe to Skye's bunk. It didn't matter. She had said it. Everything. She felt kind of awesome, but also awful at the same time. And now it was time to go. She should have been used to that heartbreak. And she was. Sort of. But that didn't stop it from hurt more and more every time.

"Melinda, wait" said Coulson, walking towards her.

She stopped, but stayed in her position, facing the door instead of him. "Why?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper. "I know I gave you enough reasons to think I had betrayed you, but why couldn't you believe me? After all we've gone through…"

"That's exactly why I couldn't" He said. He exhaled heavily, then sighed and took a deep breath. "I know I should have believed you. But I couldn't"

"Why?" insisted May.

"Because I… it's just that… ever since I was a teenager, no matter what happened, I could always count on two things. I had the agency… and you, Melinda" he confessed, clearly stressed. "S.H.I.E.L.D was already breaking down and the possibility of you being also a lie… I couldn't take it. I told myself that it made sense if you were the traitor, because it was all too perfect and… I panicked. I shot you because I wanted so badly to believe you and I needed to think"

It seemed as if he meant his words. He probably did. May finally turned around and, looking at him again, just for the tiny time frame of a blink of an eye she could see again the boy she had met at the Academy all those years ago. A talkative and kind boy with big blue eyes and a warm smile.

She could still remember what it was like in those missions where they only had each other to trust. How one look was enough for a change of plans and a small gesture could have more meaning than hours of chatting with another person. Yes, she definitely had not forgotten how it felt, and that made her want to cry. Oh, why couldn't he believe her? Her only true friend… Did it mean that he looked at her like everybody else? Nobody trusts the Cavalry, she thought bitterly.

She didn't know since when or how, but Coulson was now very close to her, enough to feel his warm breathing on her face and get lost in his deep and beautiful blue eyes. If she stood on her tiptoes she could kiss him. And she wanted so badly to do it. It would be so easy, she thought, grabbing the lapels of his shirt and pull him down to her lips. But she didn't do it. He didn't want that from her. He loved Audrey.

"I'm sorry… I was a stupid asshole" he said, looking straight into her eyes as he talked. "I'm so really sorry, Melinda. For real. There is no one I trust more than you"

"I will never betray you, Phil" she whispered, feeling a knot in her throat. "Never, no matter what happens"

"I know" said Coulson. "You always take care of me support me and when it was my turn…I failed you" He reached out a hand, but instead of putting it on her shoulder as how she had expected, he held the side of her face and gently caressed her cheek with his thumb. "I'm so sorry, Mel…"

May gave him a small smirk.

"You hadn't called me like that in so many years" she commented.

Out of a sudden, he hugged her tightly. Not thinking it twice, May hugged him back and buried her face in his chest, truly smiling for the first time in a long time. She was no longer angry. She was so happy they had been able to repair their… God, that wasn't a friendship, it was much more than that.

But it wasn't love either, or was it? It was even stronger than that. They didn't have a typical relationship, they had a… reality, yes, that was the most accurate word she could find to describe the way she felt about Phil. A reality, built over facts. Facts like how much they knew and cared and trusted each other, how she would never betray him and how he wouldn't leave her… Facts.

"We're gonna make it" he whispered in her ear. She didn't know if he was talking about the agency or whatever it was that thing they had. "We're together… And you're so going to let me patch you up right now"

May nodded, and then closed her eyes tightly, desperately trying to cling onto his words. She let out a small single tear, crashing her own shield and, finally, losing control in the only place she was safe; next to Phil. Maybe she deserved to cry after all. Even if it was of relief.

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