The Magical Aftermath
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The BUS leveled off in the sky and Agent Grant Ward stepped into the cockpit. Agent Melinda May glanced at him and continued flicking buttons on the panel before her. Once control of the craft had been handed over to the auto-pilot and Ward had settled in she left.
He never questioned why she had asked him to take over. She never told him.
Melinda May had only one destination in mind: Phil Coulson's office. Nothing would distract her from her objective.
She didn't even bother with the formality of knocking before she went in. He should know better by now.
She found him looking absent-mindedly through the window to his left, some Avenger collectible being unconsciously fiddled with in his hands. She started doubting whether he had even heard her come in until he spoke to her.
"Did you know?"
She waited for him to turn his head and look at her. What greeted him when he finally did was a simple raised eyebrow. He understood. She didn't. She wouldn't have told him if she had known, but she hadn't. He looked away again.
"Yeah, I didn't think so."
She took a step closer and cocked her head to the side. He didn't need her to speak. He needed someone to listen to him, and she was the only one he could speak to; she always had been.
She waited, as she always had.
He focused his attention on her once more, and this time she could tell that he was mostly back from wherever it was he had gone. His eyes weren't wavering any longer but were firmly fixed on hers.
"I remember now."
She came closer and leaned on the desk by his legs. Her gaze never left his.
"What they did to me, I remember everything."
She nodded once slowly. She'd been there with Skye. She had heard his screams, begging for death to take him. She had come to that conclusion. To break Phil Coulson to that extent….she didn't want to imagine what had been done to him.
"You don't need to tell me, but I'll be here."
He broke away from her yet again. He just couldn't look her straight on. Of everyone, she would understand the best, but he couldn't.
She did understand. He was the one who had gotten to her first in Bahrain after all. She understood, at least partly.
"You need to sleep."
"I'm not that tired."
Again her eyebrow came up. 'Yes, you are,' it was telling him. He disagreed anyway.
"Nah, I have some work to catch up on."
This time her eyes rolled and she stood upright. Her look became pointed. He risked it again.
"Besides, this plane can't fly itself."
"You know it can, and Ward has the comm. if anything should happen."
He looked up at her. He knew she trusted no one with 'her' plane and was touched she had left it in order to be here with him. As he kept his eyes locked on hers she saw the fear in his eyes. Her face softened. She really did understand.
"I'm not leaving."
He finally acquiesced and stood. She followed him through the door back to his private room and watched as he changed for bed. He didn't even try his hand at modesty, simply undressed and put on his pajamas without thinking or giving pause.
He got under the covers. She laid on the other side of his bed and stared up at the ceiling, her hands folded over her stomach. He took a similar position, one arm going under his head.
"Why is your bed more comfortable than mine?" She asked with a frown.
"I'm the boss." A semi-content look made its way onto his features.
"Humph."
He looked at her and smiled the first real, albeit small, smile since everything had happened.
"Thank you."
She turned on her side and smiled warmly back at him. She took his free hand in one of hers and squeezed it gently, bringing them to rest gently on where she knew his scar was.
"Sleep."
"Stay?"
"For a few hours."
He chuckled. "You're thinking about Ward alone in your cockpit, aren't you?"
Her eyebrow rose. He caught her look and smirked.
"You know that's not what I meant. But since were on the subject. How did that work out?"
She turned away. This wasn't a talk she wanted to have with him.
"It didn't."
"He's clingy, isn't he?" He needed to rile her up. This was something he knew how to do and was comfortable, normal. "He seems like he'd be clingy."
She shrugged. He knew better.
"I don't need that complication at the moment."
"So he is clingy."
She gave him the death stare, hoping to shut him up. It never did. But he did change his tone.
"He didn't trust you."
She looked away and whispered, "No."
He nodded. He'd seen it coming, had seen the result of it in the unofficial missions reports she had sent him.
"I trust you."
Her gaze softened and returned to him once more. She never could be too mad at him, nor for long.
"Sleep," she told him softly.
"You too," he told her back, just as softly.
With that he pulled her closer to him, wrapped his arms around her and closed his eyes. It had been a long time since they had been in this position. It was a lifetime ago. But right now he needed that lifeline. She was that lifeline.
She needed it too.
She snuggled into his side and sighed softly. She would sleep. In a few hours she had to get up to fly the BUS again. Right now all she wanted was to assure herself that Phil Coulson was really alive and intact, mostly.
They settled into each other. Both ignored the old feelings threatening to erupt themselves through their hearts and provided comfort to each other. That was all this was at the moment, comfort.
Hours later, when Melinda awoke from the sleep she had told herself she wouldn't have, it was to find her bedmate staring intently at her. His face was serene and it reassured her that he would be ok. They both would.