She'd been hit, badly. Every muscle in her was screaming at her, stop moving. She couldn't stop. There was still men to take down, she had to protect herself, her team.

It wasn't until they returned to the BUS she realised how severe her injury was.

And she wasn't the only one.

Ward sprung into action as soon as he saw the blood on her shirt.

"Jesus, okay, okay we need to clean it. Do you want me to get Simmons? I could get Simmons."

May shook her head, the young agent had done more than May could ever imagine while they were out there, taking down countless enemy soldiers with the Night-Night Gun. Once they'd boarded the plane, May had spotted her running off to her bunk, Fitz holding onto her arm and following her inside as the door slid shut, they didn't need to be disturbed.

"No, don't bother her, just hand me the cloth and disinfectant," she told him sharply. Ward hurriedly handed her the supplies she'd asked for, watching carefully as she sterilised the wound on her side. He was hovering.

"You don't need to stay," May murmured, not looking up from her work. Ward shook his head,

"It's okay, someone should be here, just incase. You definitely got the worst injury of all of us." May remained silent, she knew there was no discouraging him.

"Bandage?" Ward nodded instantly, digging through the Lab's medical supplies before handing her one.

"Need my help?" Melinda relented, allowing him to hold her steady as she firmly stuck the bandage to her side.

"There, should be fine now," she said, hopping off her place on the Lab Bench. Ward followed her to the Cargo Bay and up the stairs to plane's lounge, which was completely devoid of any other members of their team.

"Maybe you should sit down for a bit," Ward suggested, May shook her head.

"I'm fine," she insisted but Ward gently grabbed her wrist.

"This time, let me help you." Her mind flashed back to Irish Church, Ward with the staff, the anger in his eyes.

She sat.


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