A/N - a little post 100th episode fic because how could I not? Spoilery through ep 100, obviously.
Bear the Weight
They're following Rick Stoner's video image through the Lighthouse when Melinda finally stops for a beat. Fitz looks back the moment he realizes she's no longer beside him.
"Robin?"
Fitz nods. He should have thought of it himself.
"Hunter said he and Bobbi would look after Robin and her mom. I can get a message to them."
Melinda nods, starts walking again.
"Tell them to keep an extra eye on her mom. I'm not sure when Robin loses her, but… we should try."
He will do it, of course, because it's the right thing to do and because May asked him to. But he'll also do it because he knows something new – something the Framework and its aftermath taught him –
What it feels like to bear the weight.
May does it every day, nonstop, and Fitz can't imagine what it must be like. It's been her life for years. He and Jemma talk about it all the time… how grateful they are to have each other to share the burden because they don't know how May does it… how she can care so much for them all and yet feel so singularly responsible for their survival. It would be enough to break most human beings and yet somehow, the weight just gets heavier, and May's shoulders find new strength to manage.
Now she carries this… the knowledge that someday, if they can't save the future, she will have to be a mother to a tortured Inhuman little girl who everyone else fears. And to no surprise, May does it – in that terrible apocalyptic world they must try to stop from becoming real, May carries Robin, too.
"It must comfort her," Fitz offers, wanting desperately to say something to acknowledge the immense burdens May shoulders. "Robin, I mean. To know that if we fail, you'll be waiting for her. It must help her so much."
The way May looks at him makes Fitz swallow hard. When they'd first become a team, Melinda May had been the most intimidating person Fitz had ever met. But that was before. And now when he looks at her, he doesn't see The Cavalry – a legendary warrior who induces fear. He sees Melinda May, a woman who has been to hell and back and is still standing there in the hallway with him, ready to fight off any threat, because she always puts herself between danger and them.
"I'd rather make sure Robin never has to know that world."
And Fitz nods, because of course she does. Of course May would rather never get the chance to love and raise Robin because that life means all the rest of them are gone… killed in a losing effort to save the world.
"Who says there isn't a world where she gets both?" Fitz offers as they head deeper into the lighthouse. "Maybe we save the world and Robin still gets to know you and learn from you not because you have to raise her, but because she's just lucky enough to know you."
He warms entirely at the slight smile his words bring to May's face. She doesn't say anything, but he knows he did for her what she's done for him a million times.
He gave her hope.
Daisy knows, of course, that May is talking about herself. The only person she'd ever think should go downstairs and try to seal the potentially lethal fear dimension rift that General Hale's bomb has torn open in the Lighthouse is herself. Because it's what she does, right? As much as Coulson believes in the idea of SHIELD, their shield is Melinda May. Except Daisy can see that they've asked too much of her. That their shield has a crack.
Going straight from the framework into space and suffering a terrible injury has taken its toll on May. None of them say it to her, but they've whispered about it to each other… how some small thing has shifted, and May's leg seems determined to never heal properly. None of them would want to take her on in a fight still – that hasn't changed. But she's a little less invincible than she was, and the team knows it.
But Daisy is the one to say it out loud, while she's ranting at Coulson about being an idiot who wants to kill himself. Daisy says it out loud and then does everything she can not to turn and look toward May because saying it out loud hurts – and she knows that her mentor will hate those words. The sound of them. The truth of them. And Daisy, who would rather die than hurt May ever again, had to be the one to say them.
She's anticipating a fight about it later, a classic Melinda May smackdown where she gets told that May's strength is not her concern and FYI, May still outranks her, and don't question her orders, ever. And Daisy will want to say and maybe won't be brave enough, because by then this fear/adrenaline rush will be over, is that it is her concern because she cannot spare May. None of them can. They're spoiled – needy – and too dependent on her, and it's not fair, but she can't keep running around acting like she's expendable because she just isn't. Their team needs May to be the calm in the center of the storm.
And if they screw all this up… if Daisy ends up quaking the world apart or the monolith exploded rift tears it apart or whatever the hell happens because they can't stop it, well, then May has to be the person who raises Robin and give them another chance.
She has to be their hope if everything else fails them.
So Daisy is ready to fight them both… May and Coulson… because it can be her. She's okay with it. She can go down there and risk herself because it's her turn.
And then Coulson collapses to the floor. And while they wait for Simmons to come, Daisy looks up and sees the look on May's face.
Daisy knows what it will do to her to lose Phil Coulson. He's the center of her world. But what she sees on May's face… it's a different kind of fear. Something that speaks to the ruin May will be if Coulson isn't okay. And Daisy wants so badly to focus on that, to think about May and her tender heart, but May looks up at her, puts her hand on Daisy's shoulder, and says in a strong voice –
"He'll be all right."
And Daisy needs to believe it, so she let's May be the strong one. Again.
Jemma cannot look at Melinda May. Literally cannot do it. Because it might kill her. The biochemist is barely holding it together, in over her head in medicine she doesn't completely understand, but one thing is incredibly clear.
Phil Coulson is dying.
And Jemma can't watch the reality of that settle on May's overtaxed shoulders. She carries so much and now there's this… the one thing she can't save Coulson from. No bullet to step in front of, no villain she can distract and pull her way, no safehouse she can leave him in until the threat is gone.
And then May says it out loud. To spare Jemma. And Jemma hates herself a little because even here in this room as they face the worst possible news, May jumps on the grenade to protect anyone else from having to be the one who say the words.
"He's dying."
Jemma looks at Fitz and knows he's with her… their minds pulled now between fear for Coulson, who they love like a father, and abject heartbreak for May, who they adore like the reluctant mother she is. They've talked at length about it… with Tripp once, and with Mack and Bobbi later, about how May relates to them. No, no one goes to her with their feelings. But they trust her with their hearts and their souls and their lives. Because she never lets them down. Not ever.
And now there's nothing Jemma can offer to make this tragedy go away. There's no alien serum to fix what's been undone by Ghost Rider. No medication available that will stop the necrotizing tissue from spreading. Jemma's got encrypted messages out to Maria Hill, who will get them to Stark, and maybe… maybe there's some genius in his lab that can help, but… Jemma feels utterly helpless in the face of the monstrous death overtaking her boss.
And she feels equally powerless to do anything to comfort the woman standing there, telling Coulson off for mishandling this, for keeping them in the dark – saying all the things they're feeling but are too wrecked to say.
May does it for them, even though she looks like she wants to shatter into a million pieces.
Jemma isn't honestly sure how many hours later it's all done… Coulson's trip down below to seal the rift – at least temporarily – Deathlok's arrival, their reunion with the SHIELD compatriots they thought were lost. Seeing Davis genuinely makes Jemma's heart leap – they were all certain he was dead, but there he is… scarred but whole.
And then Daisy and May are there, telling Jemma about the wedding and that it's time to get ready, and Jemma almost forgets how full her heart was earlier, watching May's unbearable strength in the face of the news about Coulson.
Daisy runs off to get more pins for the dress and leaves them alone, and Jemma reaches out and takes May's hand.
"No two people I've ever known deserve better than you and Phil Coulson. I'm not sure we can save him. But I'm sure he's still here. Now. And I just needed to say that to you."
That little half smile May's been flashing a lot appears now, and when the specialist squeezes her hand, Jemma can feel herself beam back the most brilliant smile of her life.
It feels like a such a small thing to give to a person who has repeatedly risked everything for her, for the man she's about to marry… but Jemma thinks small things matter more to May than grand gestures. So maybe it's enough to ease the weight… for just a moment, at least.
Mack isn't surprised when he shows up with a phone full of wedding videos and finds Melinda May checking in on Yo-Yo. What does surprise him is that the woman he loves is smiling… looking relaxed and like… like she isn't in brutal amounts of pain from having her arms sliced off by a psychotic assassin.
May doesn't stay long once he arrives. Just points out the slices of "wedding cake" – i.e. prepacked cupcakes – that she brought down for them to enjoy, then says her goodnight.
"You guys have a good talk?" Mack asks, not sure what else would explain the look on his girlfriend's face.
"I just got a primer in pain management. Using breathing techniques and meditation to help so Jemma can cut back on the hard stuff."
Of course she did, because that makes perfect sense. May has been injured more than almost any person Mack's ever known. He saw her medical file once when Jemma had it pulled up and it was ridiculously long. But little stops her. He's seen her bleeding with glass jutting out of her side still flying a plane. Because they needed her to, and May shows up… every time.
"Is it helping?" he asks, and Yo-Yo nods.
"Crazy, right? I mean, I need to practice because it takes focus to do it while you're doing other things, like talking to your crazy handsome man. But, yeah. It's helping."
Mack smiles at that, at the real relief on her face. But just as quickly, Elena's expression switches to something much more serious. He's momentarily worried until her next words make it clear what's bothering her.
"We have to be there, Mack. If Coulson… we can't let Melinda do that alone. No one is that strong. Not even her."
"We'll be there," he promises, determined to be true to his word. He knows that May closed herself off after Bahrain, and he knows Coulson never stopped trying to bring her back out of that awful place. May had finally worked herself free… becoming the heart of their team in the process. If for no other reason than for Phil, they have to be there to keep that slip into darkness from happening again.
But they'll also do it because they owe it to May. Not for the times she's fought against enemies for them. That was her job. But for times like tonight… where they were in need and May appeared, her few powerful words exactly what they needed to hear to go on.
He's in the shower, the hot water burning most of his skin. But not his chest. Phil is stunned at the difference in sensation around his wound now. How the nerves are starting to die and no longer transmit pain on the top layers. Inside it's different. Inside the pain reaches out and grabs him sometimes… like a fist squeezing his heart.
But after all that time in space, dealing with the dirt and the same clothes and the general ick, after facing all that insanity on the lower levels of the lighthouse with Lash and Hive and not Mike Peterson, he just needs to stand there under the hot spray and feel… feel alive, and hurt, and fragile.
It shouldn't surprise him that he doesn't hear her because she is literally one of the only people who's ever been able to sneak up on him. And he's not the least bit bashful - now that she knows he's sick, he doesn't really have anything to hide from May.
But it surprises the hell out of him when a wash of cold air sweeps through the shower as the door opens. And then her arms wrap around him, palms coming to rest over the ridges of his scar.
"You weren't there."
He isn't sure what she means, so Phil waits her out. Melinda didn't come here not to say what she means to say.
"I picked out your suit. I planned the funeral. I buried you."
Phil's eyes burn at her words and his hand rises to clasp hers over his heart. They never talked about this because it was too hard. But now he's dying again and there's not much harder than that.
"I'll do it again if I have to. But only if I have to. Because you don't get to just give up. You don't get to decide it's okay if you die."
He's asked it of her before. When he was losing his mind to alien DNA and afraid he'd turn into a monster, Phil asked her to kill him. To put him down. It seems criminal to him now that the words ever left his mouth. Because if it was her… if Melinda was telling him she was dying and there was no choice and to just accept it… if she'd asked him to put a bullet in her head…
"That thing down there… when it was trying to convince me that this, our life, was all in my head… it kept saying I was imagining a life filled with all the things I wish I'd done. Be a hero. Save the world. Have the family I never got to have."
She leaned her cheek against his back and squeezed him tighter with her arms.
"You've done all those things. They're real."
"Yeah, in the moment, I wasn't sure. But then I realized he never said anything about you. Not just you… not 'loved the woman you always wanted to love'. And that's how I knew it wasn't real. Because if I was dreaming a better life, a near perfect life… that would be part of it."
He turned then and let her see it. Let her see the black lines on his chest where death was coming for him. Let her see how bad it was. Because not telling her, not letting her see it, had been eating away at him as surely as his failing tissue. Melinda May was the person he trusted to always have his back. Every single time he'd kept a secret from her, it had led to disaster. Now there were no more… and he took the deepest breath he'd taken in months.
"It could be tomorrow," she said, her breath brushing over his skin, "or a month, or we could find a way to keep it at bay… or stop it."
He leaned his forehead to hers, his arms pulling her closer so the water was cascading over them.
"But whatever time you have left is mine. You want to make it easier for me to lose you? Take away the regrets."
The kiss was everything… loving and passionate and sad and joyful and longing and desperate and content all mixed together, and Phil looked in her eyes after and understood.
This was a burden they had to carry together. So she could survive it alone when he was gone.
"How's the leg?" he asked… his voice cheeky and sexy and all the things he wanted it to be despite the terrible odds they were facing.
"It'll hold. You sure your heart can take it?"
And she smiled for him as she said it… that big, beautiful thing that lit up her eyes.
"I mean, if I'm gonna go… there are worse ways."
Her laugh rang in his ears and triggered his own. He'd almost cost them this – underestimating her strength under the guise of protecting her. But if they couldn't win. If they couldn't beat death one more time then they would have this.
All the time he had left belonged to Melinda May.
It was a quick meeting – Fitz and Simmons had a wedding night to get to and Elena needed sleep and Daisy and Mack were so tired they could barely stand. But it was important that they were together on this.
They had a plan in place. Bobbi and Hunter had been looped in. They were on standby to bring any tech or medications Hill and Stark came up with to their location.
But what Bobbi and Hunter had already given them was something else…
An image. One crayon drawn image that Hunter had taken a photo of and sent to them with a single line of text.
"You can't save him. But mom can."
And in the image, there was a stick figure woman with dark hair and a shield in her hand, protecting what they assumed to be Phil from an all-consuming fire.
"Is May supposed to fight Ghost Rider or something?" Mack asked, his face a mask of concern, "because I'm not sure we should let her do that."
"We're definitely not doing that," Daisy seconded. "I'm not letting anyone else get near that dude."
Fitz looked at Yo-Yo and pointed to the text in the message.
"It says we can't save him but she can. Does that mean we ignore the prophecy thing?"
Yo-Yo shook her head. "All I know is that if we try to save him, it leads to disaster. I don't know what happens if it's just May and the rest of us… I don't know."
"But do we tell her?" Simmons asked. "Do we tell May about the message? Put it on her that there's hope we don't understand about her being able to stop this?"
And it's Daisy who steps up. Who makes the decision, so no one else will have to bear the responsibility of it. Just like her S.O. has a million times.
"No. We try to find out what it means. And if we do, great, then we'll tell May and let her decide what comes next. But I think it's our turn to carry this one without her. At least until we're sure."
They agreed, unanimously. This time they would bear the weight.
