Phil Coulson couldn't sleep. He couldn't remember the last time he had a good night's sleep that left him feeling refreshed in the morning. He couldn't shut his brain off. Thoughts raced through his mind. Thoughts of Tahiti, thoughts of cello music and thoughts of… he shook his head. He couldn't discern what was real, what was implanted, and what was imagined in his mind.
He rolled over in his bed. He felt the gentle sway of the plane. It was comforting to him in a way. This was his home. His team was here. She was here and the gentle sway of the plane was her doing. Coulson let out a sigh. He wondered how long it was until they would land. The long flights home weren't bad when he got to sleep. He had to stop thinking about her. Not only was she a member of his team and even though it was against policy but she was sleeping with Ward. A pang of jealousy filled his soul for a moment. When his team had been assembled, he told her that he needed her. It was true in more ways than one. He rolled over again.
He shrugged his shoulders and crossed his arms. His chest was sore and tight from yesterday's physical conditioning. The workout had gotten his head right but only for a short time. He needed a massage. His mind floated back to Tahiti and then to reality. Tahiti wasn't real and his mind kept questioning what of his current experiences was real. He had to clear his head. He rolled out of bed and walked into the bathroom.
He bent his head down, splashed cold water onto his face and looked up. He saw the large scar on his bare chest. The scar was hairless unlike the rest of his chest, which made it stand out more noticeably. He gently touched it and knew the one on the back was even larger. He was glad he couldn't see it. Coulson had changed and he felt unfamiliar to himself. He straightened his sore but strengthened arms and looked himself in the eye in the mirror. His emotions vacillated between wanting to tell himself to snap out of the funk he was in and having compassion for himself in this time of emotional turmoil.
Coulson wasn't sure if it was his resurrection, the knowledge that Ward was warming May's bed or the combination of both. It could also be something else. The human mind was as complex as the universe and after coming back to life his could be altered forever.
"Enough." Coulson spoke the word out loud as he turned back to his room and pulled a button down shirt from the drawer and pants from the closet. If he couldn't sleep, there was always a backlog of paperwork he could attend to, and if he decided to procrastinate he could always watch that 80's movie he loved streaming online. He buttoned his shirt, leaving the top few open. Coulson entered his office and turned on the light. He turned on his tablet and began to read. He put his head in his hands as he looked down at the screen.
Melinda May sat in the cockpit and looked down at her watch. It was far past midnight. Where the hell was Ward? He said he would be coming to take over for her so she could get a few hours of sleep at least. She waited a few minutes and checked her watch again. She shook her head and looked back out the window. Ward was hot. Ward kicked ass when the chips were down but he was so emotional. May secretly envied that about him. Her feelings were so deep inside half the time she didn't know what she was feeling. The one thing she knew was how much she cared for Coulson. Her body tensed as she had that thought and she glanced at her watch again, her irritation building. She had requested to be placed at S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters to watch him after his near- death experience and to protect him if need be. He had been in love with the cellist and May not only respected that but was happy for him as well. It was something else she envied. Ward was a good fuck but she didn't feel much else for him. If she had felt something, she couldn't imagine even sharing a cab with him, much less his bed.
Melinda May was "the cavalry": the one that came in to save the day on countless missions that had no hope of succeeding. When people thought of her, they thought of the lives she had saved. When she thought of herself, she thought of the one's she hadn't. She'd seen so much death, so much destruction. And now was not the time to think about it. "Enough." She muttered to herself. "Where the hell is Ward?"
"Ward is right here." Grant Ward walked in as the words flew from her mouth. He was freshly showered and dressed and he grinned at May as he walked in. "I know I'm late. I…"
"I've been awake for 20 hours, Ward. I'm flying the plane that you're on. I assumed if you valued your life, you'd show up on time." May spoke dryly as she turned on the auto pilot for the swap. She took off the headset and handed it to him.
"I'm trying to play nice." Grant smiled at her as he sat down. "You know I can do it."
May could only manage a smirk at him. "Yes, you're very trying." She folded his arms as she turned away from him. He gently touched her arm to turn her back to him. She paused and slid her arms to her sides. He pulled her in to give her a kiss on the cheek but she pulled back. "Goodnight, Ward."
Ward's expression turned to one of dejection as she left the cockpit and closed the door. "Goodnight, Melinda."
May unzipped her jumpsuit a few inches. It would be only a few minutes before she would be in her bed getting desperately needed sleep.