A/N: Here's my tag to 4x12. I just hope that they'll actually kiss tonight. If they do I'll cry and explode. Fingers crossed!
Theres a brief flashback in the middle of this that references the scene between Coulson and May in episode 11
May's POV
"Here, I think this is it." Phil motions for her to meet him at the end of the hall.
Phil leads her to a room with all sorts of books. They walk into the library and begin their sweep, making sure it isn't occupied.
Sam Koenig had led them here. He told them that this was where the darkhold was. It took some time to extract the information from him, but he had finally relented and told what he knew.
Currently, Mace, Mack, and Daisy were trying to save Billy, while she and Phil stood by. If unsuccessful in the rescue op, Sam would call Phil and reveal the location of the darkhold. He had already said that it was somewhere in this library, but there were way too many books for them to go searching. They wouldn't have enough time.
All this time to spare and nothing to do. She knew it wouldn't take long for Phil to break the silence.
"So...Want to tell me what's been bothering you?" He actively avoids eye contact with her, choosing instead to scan the rows of books lined up on the shelf in front of him.
She sighs. "I don't know what you're talking about." She knew this was coming. He had been paying a lot of attention to her. He was bound to sense that something was on her mind.
She watches him turn towards her with a playful smile on his face. "Come on. I thought we had gotten past all of this."
She looks away from him. Do not meet his eyes. That's his greatest skill; the way he just stares at her. It radiates warmth and security. It makes her want to forget how messed up everything was and just be with him.
"Seriously," he says. He takes a step closer to her. The space between them now less than what could be considered as friendly. "Melinda...You can tell me anything," he tells her softly.
Not this. "I know. I've been trying to figure out how to do...something." How to tell you that I'm not her. I'm not the one you think I am. Everytime I get the courage to tell you, the words won't come out or I'm frozen in place. My mind, or more specifically my creator Radcliffe, won't let me tell you.
"Something...?" He repeats back to her, hoping for her to elaborate.
She steps up in his personal space and grabs his arm. "I-"
His phone rings, interrupting her. She spots momentary disappointment in Phil's eyes as he accepts the call. He shoots her a look that clearly says that they'll be continuing this conversation later.
She watches, curiosity piqued as he looks around the room.
"Yes, I see that," he reports to the person on the phone who she assumes is Sam. "Good...I'll check in once we're out."
He meets her eyes. "They don't have enough time to get him out safely. We have to bring it to the exchange," he explains.
"Here," he says, walking over to a shelf next to the lone desk in the room, his attention focused on the coat rack. Strangely enough, there were a bunch of coats and bags hanging on it. This was odd. It seemed like no one had been this room for decades. It had a major abandoned vibe to her.
"If you came looking for a book, would you look on the coat rack?" He asks, flashing her a grin. He hunched over and began sifting through the layers of jackets that were hung on the rack.
"It's just been sitting here?" She asks.
"I guess he figured that would be the last place anyone would look." She watches as he reaches his hand in between the jackets and pulls something out. It was a worn brown leather bag.
"Clever," she comments.
"Yea." He smiles, clearly impressed by this hiding spot.
"Are you sure you didn't come up with that?" She teases him.
"I wish," he chuckles, eyes sparkling.
The way he's staring at her now makes her heart soar. He makes her feel like a teenager. Her heart won't stop beating frantically whenever he looks at her with all of that admiration.
"Did you mean it when you said you're ready for whatever comes next?" The words are out before she thinks it through. This isn't the time for this, but she can't wait any longer. She glances at him worriedly, anxiously awaiting his response. If he regrets what happened between them 5 hours ago she'll be crushed and humiliated.
Everything has been so uncertain lately and she just wants that conformation, to know that this is true. That he wants this after all of these years.
He leans in.
Her heart feels like it's in her throat. If she didn't know how to school her features and get a hold of her blood pressure she would be feeling really embarrassed right about now.
He kisses her chastely with a promise of something more. His lips are soft and warm, yet she could also feel the passion in them. Kissing him seemed like the most natural thing in the world.
He pulls away from her slowly. "With you...Yes," he says, confidentiality.
Butterflies flutter in her stomach in response to his words.
She realizes that they've been standing here smiling at each other for far too long. As much as she wanted to keep doing just that, they had a job to do. "We should..."
He coughs, "right, we need to go."
[[[[[[5 hours ago.
"We are who we are flaws and all."
"And you're fine with that?" He asks her.
"Yea...I am." She grasped his bicep comfortingly.
Before she could say anything else Daisy walks into the room.
May pulls back immediately on instinct.
"Oh sorry, I didn't know that you guys were in here. I'll come back," Daisy says, not meeting their eyes.
She opens her mouth to object, but Daisy's gone before she could get any words out.
She stands up and is about to walk away, feeling like the moment between her and Phil had passed.
To her surprise, Coulson steps in front of her before she can pass him. "May...I.."
Maybe he feels like this is the moment. He could be tired of waiting, just as she was.
"I've been thinking about...us. And...I don't want to waste anymore time. I'm ready for whatever comes next. I want...," he trails off, but his eyes flicker to her lips. He slowly reaches up and cups her cheek. Then, leans in and kisses her.
After that, they hadn't really had time to talk about it. They had been swept up by the chaos of hearing that the Billy Koenig had been taken hostage plus fitz saying that the Radcliffe that they had in custody was actually an LMD. And now they're here. ]]]]]
"Wait, let me see it," she requests, putting a hand out for the darkhold.
He passes it over to her.
She lifted the flap of the worn leather and saw the black book. Her hand grasped the spine of the book and pulled it out, making sure that it was indeed the darkhold. "It's definitely the darkhold," she commented.
Suddenly, Radcliffe's face appears in her mind. "Bring the darkhold to me," she hears Radcliffe say. She feels compelled to listen to him.
When she clears her eyes of the haze Phil is there in front of her, brows furrowed, eyes intently focused on her face.
"May," he calls, both hands lightly squeezing her shoulders.
Everything feels cloudy. All thoughts have been flooded with focusing on the darkhold. Get the darkhold and run. Ditch him. It's like someone is sinisterly whispering in her ear.
"Melinda, are you okay?" He shakes her shoulders this time. His grip much tighter than before.
Her hand drifts over towards her right hip where her gun is holstered. Before she even knows what she's doing, she has her weapon pointed at his stomach.
His hands automatically drop from her body. "Woah, May," he says gently. She pushes the gun further into his stomach, making him move backwards. He raises his hands purely on instinct, she knows. It's just human nature, if someone points a gun at you you put your hands up. "May...look at me," he tells her seriously.
She stares at her hand, unbelieving that it's actually her own hand holding a gun to Phil. This is Phil. What are you doing?
Her grip is anything but steady. He could probably knock the gun right out of her hand if he tried.
She feels her other hand tightly wrapped around the darkhold, securing it to the side of her body.
She's trying to fight it. In response, her hand clenches around the handle of the gun. She holds it so tightly that the metal slices into the palm of her hand.
Her arm lifts on its own accord, pointing right at his chest where his heart would be. "Back up, Coulson," she orders him harshly.
"Talk to me. What's happening?" His mouth hangs open in alarm.
The gun feels heavy with intent in her hand. All she knows is that she has to get out of here. She has to get away from Phil. It's like something deep inside her was unlocked and now she was afraid of what that might be. This would ruin everything.
"I'm...so sorry. I don't want to." She can feel his resistance to the gun. His body pressing back towards her again. "Stop. Just stop," she begs him, borderline on hysterical. "I don't want to hurt you."
"Then don't," he tells her simply. He takes a hesitant step towards her.
Her finger hovers over the trigger in response.
"Phil. Stop. Stop! Please. Get away from me," she warns. It's as if she had become a video game character and was being controlled by someone else.
Oh god! She has no control over herself anymore. The last thing she would ever want to do is hurt him, but she can't make herself put down the gun.
This is just a reminder of the reality. She had been so swept up in this that she had forgotten that this was all an illusion. She wanted to become Melinda May. She believed that she was Melinda May. She had wanted to forget about the metal under her skin, to forget it all because she's in love. She loves him so much that he made her forget everything. She wanted to be with him always, but she can't. They can't do this. She can't do this to him. It's like a bucket of ice cold water has been dumped on her head.
In some sick twisted way she silently wishes that he would pull his gun out and just take her out. It would be better for everyone in the end. She wouldn't be able to bring the darkhold to Radcliffe and Phil would get the real Melinda back, wherever she was. But this is Phil and she knows that he would never do that. He would never hurt her even if she was about to kill him. That's the evil genius of Radcliffe. He had to know that Phil would never do anything to hurt her.
That fact would surely change if he knew what she truly was.
She can barely stand seeing the compassion in his eyes. He thinks that she has no control over this. That the darkhold has somehow possessed her. He still wants to help. He still thinks she's human and not some kind of metal imposter wearing Melinda May's face. "Melinda-"
That name makes her stomach clench. It's just a reminder of what she's not. She's not Melinda. She doesn't even know what she truly is.
"No! I'm not...", she cries. Her mouth clenches up before she can spew the rest of the words that she desperately wants to say. She needs help!
The smell of gunpowder invades her nostrils. She stares in horror as Phil stumbles backwards into the bookcase behind him. His back knocks into the wood and rows of books. The bullet must've hit him in the thigh. She watches silently as he covers his right thigh with both hands. The blood is already begining to drip onto the carpeted floor.
She can't even process what she's just done. A bullet had left the chamber because she pulled the trigger. She shot Phil.
There's only one thing left to do, leave him before she hurts him some more. Or before she has the chance to kill him.
"May!" She hears him yelling for her as she runs out of the room with the darkhold. She does this all without any hint of hesitation or a glance back in his direction because she's a cold heartless, monster.
All of this proves on thing. The thing that she did not want to admit, but now cannot deny. She is not Melinda May and never will be.
/End/
Let me know what you think! Please and thanks for reading.