A/N: This is set some time after Skye is released from quarantine, but before much else happens.

May paused from her practice with Bobbi's battle staves when Coulson stuck his head in the door.

"It's ready," he informed her, a trace of sorrow clouding his steady expression.

May's lips tightened, and she nodded, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly before setting aside the staves and following him.

The team gathered in a small alcove near the lounge, where a new, floor-to-ceiling plaque hung on the wall, engraved across the top with the following words:

THE WALL OF VALOR
In Honor of the Members of S.H.I.E.L.D. Who Gave their Lives in the Service of Humanity
"Wars may be fought with weapons, but are won or lost by men." - Gen. George S. Patton

May's eyes traveled around the small, ragtag group of agents - of family members, really - who were gathered there. Skye, with that face she wore when she was trying to be brave, tears standing in her eyes, and her facade utterly failing to mask the survivor's guilt May knew she was battling. Fitz beside her, watery-eyed, though possessed of a certain self-assuredness May couldn't remember seeing in him in quite a while.

On the other side of the hallway, Simmons, her grief turned inward as anger against herself. May knew the feeling all too well, and she knew the inevitability of walking through it; but she hoped for Jemma's sake that her reactionary response would be short-lived. It wasn't healthy, and it didn't suit Simmons' compassionate nature. May hated the thought of that nature becoming yet another casualty of war.

Arranged between the two scientists were Bobbi, Hunter, and Mack - Bobbi with her brave face on, the one May knew wasn't feigned, only her eyes betraying the sense of loss and regret that the experienced agent had long ago learned to compartmentalize. Beside her, Hunter was uncharacteristically sober, his arms folded across his body, his periodic shifting of weight from one foot to the other the clearest indication of his discomfort, perhaps with the emotions he himself was experiencing. Mack stood tall and steady as usual, his face a mask of sorrow he didn't bother trying to conceal.

Beside Coulson, Billy Koenig was stony-faced, clearly holding back tears. And Coulson - May's heart swelled with bittersweet pride as she looked at him. Coulson, whose concern and respect for those he led had driven him to call them together for this time of remembrance. The grief and the weight of loss lay heaviest, perhaps, on him - the man who held himself responsible for every misstep, every circumstance he could and couldn't control. The lines on his face seemed deeper now than they had been just a few months ago, and May found herself wondering when it was exactly that they had both gotten so old, when the spark of idealism and naïveté had gone out, smothered under the burdens of harsh reality and heavy responsibility.

That spark was never destined to last long, in a life such as this. May glanced back over at the three youngest agents, a lump rising in her throat as she came to terms with the idea that she was watching them go through exactly what she and Phil had.

Coulson cleared his throat and addressed the team.

"It's been...a difficult few months. There's not a person in this room right now whose life hasn't been touched by tragedy, by loss, by betrayal. And in the midst of all of it, I thought it would be fitting for us to take the time to commemorate those we've lost: those who upheld the virtues SHIELD stands for, who did not allow darkness to overtake them, but who stood strong for what was right until the very end." His expression faltered, and he swallowed hard, taking a moment to collect himself before he continued. "Though they are no longer with us, their sacrifices were not made in vain, and the light of their commitment to serving and protecting others should serve as an inspiration and a strength for us in whatever dark days may lie ahead."

Coulson glanced over to May, who nodded slightly in approval and encouragement, that lump in her throat perilously close to turning into tears. She was wrong, she realized. The years, and the miles, had certainly stolen Phil's naïveté, but his idealism was alive and well, refusing to succumb under the weight of everything he carried.

Maybe that was the reason she was pretty sure she would follow him anywhere.

Coulson nodded to Mack, who came over to hand him a stack of metal circles, painstakingly engraved with SHIELD logos and names. So this was the secret project Coulson had put him on after San Juan, the one he'd been working on incessantly down in the garage.

One by one, Coulson began hanging the names on the plaque, pausing after each name to allow a moment of silence.

Victoria Hand

Eric Koenig

Skye's eyes were glassy, her lips tight and angry. Billy Koenig covered his face with one hand.

Isabelle Hartley

Bobbi pursed her lips, blinking back tears, and exchanged a quick, enigmatic look with Mack. Hunter shifted his weight and sniffed subtly, his forehead creasing with grief and guilt.

The next metal circle had a slightly modified version of the SHIELD logo. Idaho, it said simply.

Hunter blinked in surprise, and May watched as his eyes welled with tears he was too caught off guard to restrain. He dashed them away quickly, but seemed to stand a little straighter in the wake of seeing the mercenary's name added to the SHIELD Wall of Valor.

The next few names were difficult for Coulson: Noelle Walters and her team members in Amsterdam. May knew Coulson held himself acutely responsible for their deaths. That had been a dark day for him.

At last, there was only one name left.

Antoine Triplett

As Coulson hung it, the heaviness of fresh grief was palpable in the hallway. Skye choked back a sob, and Fitz moved closer to her, whispering what May assumed were reassurances. Meanwhile, Simmons broke down and wept freely, brushing tears from her cheeks, and May crossed the hallway to wrap a steadying arm around her. The scientist rested her head on May's shoulder, quieting at the comfort the senior agent offered.

She'd be damned, Melinda May thought to herself, if she let this world destroy these young people the way it had destroyed her. Trip would hate to see that. No, May would be there for them, in a way that no one had been able to be there for her. She'd help them be strong. That was the least she could do.

Life could be brutal sometimes. But just maybe, if they clung to one another, they'd make it through.

"Let's not forget them," Coulson said quietly, his voice choked with emotion. "Let's keep fighting for their sakes."

And that's exactly what they would do.