"How?! How is it they have Mac?" Elena shouted as Coulson forcefully maneuvered her into the pod as the doors closed, Daisy launching the boosters in time to pull away from the collapsing oil platform.

"AIDA?" May suggested, looking to Coulson with a raised eyebrow.

Still catching his breath, he shrugged, "Could be. She did teleport."

"Wait, what?" Daisy turned around, "AIDA teleported?"

"Yeah." Coulson straightened, "Apparently she's inhuman now. So, y'know, that's great."

"Jemma was right." Daisy cursed.

Coulson tskd, "She usually is. But, if Aida is how Mac got up to the Zephyr it could mean she's a friendly now."

May snorted, "We don't have that kind of luck."

He turned back in time to see her stumble back onto the bench as the pod docked with the Zephyr. With a quick reach, he held her steady, eyes searching and reading her uncharacteristic infirmity.

Daisy saw it too. "May?" Her eyes flicked to Coulson, "What's wrong? Is she okay?"

"You try waking up under assault on a sinking oil platform after a life in a computer." May snapped, trying to pull away from Phil.

"Not to mention chemically inducing a massive adrenaline spike in an attempt to fight off said assault." He bit out reproachfully, waiting until the pod was secured before releasing her arm and granting her space.

"Sir! May!" Jemma greeted them at the door, "Oh thank God."

Elena pushed around her, "Where's Mac?"

"Davis and the others brought him upstairs." Simmons indicated, locking eyes with Daisy, "He's still in the framework."

Elaina didn't wait for more, rushing up the stairs without a word.

"And them?" Coulson nodded to the unconscious Fitz and AIDA in a puddle on the floor.

Simmons looked over her shoulders, "Iced. Precautionary measure." She looked back, "I was hoping to move them into the pod once you all were on board."

"It's a good idea." May nodded, leaning against the doorframe.

Coulson's eyes tracked her for a beat before helping Simmons drag the unconscious bodies into the pod.

Davis descended the stairs as Jemma was securing the door.

"Convenient timing." Coulson rolled his eyes at the agent, leaning against the bulkhead.

"You didn't have to carry an unconscious Mac up to the flight deck." Davis cracked his neck and rolled his shoulders.

"Fair enough." Phil nodded, "You've been piloting?"

"Yes, sir." Davis straightened.

"How long?" He crossed his arms, feeling the chill of the airship.

Daisy stepped up, "We've been in the air about 10 days. You, Mac and Fitz have been in the framework for about 11." She looked past him to May, "We figure almost 6 weeks for May."

Coulson's jaw tensed, "What's our situation?"

"Low on fuel, supplies and all charges." Jemma glanced at the monitors, "We have less than 12 hours of flight time left."

Understanding dawned, and his eyes flicked from Daisy to Davis, "What's wrong? Why haven't you landed?"

"Your robot doubles caused some havoc. General Talbot is looking for us." Davis replied without the acerbic tone he had previously shot at Simmons and Daisy.

"We are just under 4 hours from the base." Daisy stepped up after sharing a quick look with Jemma.

"Our doubles?" A draft swept through the cargo bay and Phil suppressed a shiver as his still damp clothes clung to his skin. He pressed his right hand over his eyes. He was feeling more than a little whiplash and needed to buy himself some time to compartmentalize and get a hold of reality.

Dropping his hand, he looked to the young pilot, "Okay, bring us back to the base."

"Sir, what about…"

"Talbot?" Coulson interrupted Simmons, "It's a risk we need to take. I can talk with Talbot; I can't refuel the Zephyer without landing. We need supplies."

Davis nodded, accepting the order and jogging to the flight deck.

Taking a deep breath, Coulson looked in turn to each of the three woman left with him in the cargo bay. "Jemma, Daisy, I don't need to tell you what great work you've done."

"You haven't even heard the whole story yet." Daisy bounced her eyebrows, a smirk growing.

"And I have no doubt I'll be doubly impressed." He shivered again, this time he didn't bother to suppress it, "But first I need a shower and change." He turned to May who was barely holding herself up. "And you are going to bed."

" 'm fine." May managed right as her knees buckled.

"May!" Daisy rushed forward but Coulson got to her first, catching her before she fell far.

She started to resist but he lowered his voice to whisper, "Let me help you, Melinda." At that, she relaxed and raised her arms around his neck, allowing him to pick her up.

Coulson stilled the two younger women with a look, "She'll be okay."

Exchanging a glance with Jemma, Daisy relented and stepped back.

Nodding to them both, he headed to the airship's living quarters.

For all her strength and capabilities, Melinda May was a surprisingly slight woman and Phil was stronger than he looked, but he did just come out of an 11 day enforced coma and he was grateful that the Zephyr didn't have the same spiral staircase to the captain's quarters that the old bus did.

Reaching the small state room, he exhaled, everything in the same condition as he remembered it.

He loosened his grip on the woman in his arms, "You want the shower first?" When she didn't respond, he looked down, "May?"

For a second his heart raced but calmed when she breathed; she was asleep.

He blinked and indulged himself an amused smile. They'd been close the past 4 years but it had been a decade since the last time she had fallen asleep on him.

He bit back a small groan, bending as low as he could to settle her on the bed without waking her. Adjusting the sheets, he stepped back watching as she curled to her side.

He smiled again.

It had been a confusing two months. The best he had been able to figure, it had been the real May who was genuinely upset by his and Fitz's disappearance to the shadow realm. But then it was a fake May with whom that concern had fueled the growth of a long dormant aspect of their relationship.

She had sounded like May, acted like May, referenced May's memories and proclivities but it wasn't May. It was a robot with whom he split the bottle of Haig and a robot with whom he opened up about feeling out of sorts in his own skin, about wanting something more…whom he had kissed after talking about taking a vacation together.

After everything they had been through, how had he not known?

He dropped to the chair at the side of the bed, watching her breathe. He thought he had known everything about her; every tick, every preference. Hell, this had happened before. When they were in Miami he'd asked about the coffee just as a final check; he had suspected something was wrong from the little ways Agent 33 had responded to the conversation in the car. Back then it had taken him less than 15 minutes to identify the deception.

This time it had been a month.

Maybe part of him was willing to be deceived if it meant late nights over scotch and take out?

He released a harsh breath.

Then there was the framework.

He pressed his palms against his eyes. Daisy had said it was only 11 days; but it felt like a genuine life time. He hadn't even known May. She was high in command of Hydra and he was a twitchy teacher with an ex-wife.

But when they were thrown together, it was like something clicked, he knew he could trust her, was willing to stand between her and a rifle. She had tied his tie, like she had done for him countless times since he had lost his hand and her reassurance was all he needed to get on TV and call for an uprising.

And now, here they were.

Escaping the oil rig had provided a familiar pattern to fall into. Being in a tight spot had always been more comfortable than any kind of serious conversation they probably should have had ages ago.

He squeezed his forehead. It was pounding and all this thinking wasn't helping. He was exhausted and wet and cold.

With a quick feel of her pulse, he assured himself that May really was fine before digging his duffle bag out from the locker and heading for the shower.