Disclaimer and Copyright: This work of fiction is based on characters and settings created by Marvel Entertainment and affiliates. All recognizable characters, settings, and plot elements are copyright © Marvel Entertainment and their assignees, including The Walt Disney Company. The author believes this work falls within the scope of the Fair Use Doctrine as a transformative work. For more information, see the Organization for Transformative Works.
All original characters, settings, and plot elements are copyright © Cate Eliot. This work of fiction is available for use under a Creative Commons Attribution-NonCommercial-ShareAlike 3.0 Unported (CC-BY-NC-SA 3.0) license.
Summary: Before every Academy inductee knew "The Calvary", a few knew "Melinda". After S.H.I.E.L.D.'s fall, those that still defend their agency are scattered and being hunted. With HYDRA moving towards finishing their super soldiers with Garrett at the command, pushing forward to save the world might mean looking into the past. (Philinda, team fic, with guest Avengers, picks up at 1.20.)
Author's Note: After writing longer standalone pieces for the Marvel Universe, I really wanted to work on a longer work with a lot of moving parts and pieces. "Porcelain, Ivory, Steel" is focused on May and Coulson, with appearance from the Avengers, Lian May, Maria Hill, Fury, and other. It will contain mainly Philinda, Clintasha with some SkyeWard, SkyeTrip, and FitzSimmons. As of now, I'm not 100% sure how long it will be, but expect a lengthy, well written novel. The scene picks up in 1.20 "Nothing Personal" near the end of the episode.
I really appreciate all feedback, good or bad. Please review. So without further ado, dim the lights, cue the music, and enjoy the story…
"My skin has turned to porcelain, to ivory, to steel."
-George R. R. Martin
CHAPTER ONE
"I was hoping you'd come back."
He knew it was her even before he saw her face. It was in her posture, the way she stood patiently, but at attention, as if her mere presence was holding up the building around her.
He couldn't see her face. She moved with the shadows around her, blending in so well it was almost impossible to tell what was darkness and what was woman. His heart jumped and he stopped short at her arrival, the guilt of the words he had screamed at her, at his best friend, was still raw in his mind and judging by her posture, clearly in hers.
She was nervous, an expression he rarely saw of her, but he knew why. She wasn't sure if he wanted her here and his heart crumbled a little more in his chest. His mind went blank with his rehearsed apology and like always, she was stronger than he was and broke the silence.
Coulson allowed the video to play through twice before he sat there numbly, just staring at the black screen. He mind was buzzing with noise that he couldn't process and he blindly turned in the chair, looking in the still dark room for
She wasn't more than an arm's length away. She never was. He hadn't heard her move from behind him to his right, back into his eye line. She always did know what he needed before he did.
"Did—"
His throat was raw, but she didn't need him to finish.
"No, not until months after."
He jerked his head in a nod and rubbed his palms over his heads, feeling exhaustion roll off him in waves. Ever since they had left Providence, running, his mind couldn't stop imagining the worst, staying alert. He had Trip, a specialist, but the young agent had nothing on May. Coulson knew he couldn't keep the others safe alone.
"Time for bed."
Her tone was gentle, but left no room for argument and Phil rose up from the battered motel chair automatically. Her fingers were gentle in untying his tie. They had always had a fluidity to the way they moved around each other. In the old days, Clint Barton had called it chemistry.
The moon caught the side of her face and lit up her pale face with long smooth contouring shadows. Her fingers moved the blinds away as she watched the empty courtyard. It was a movement he had seen her do a million times, even now it captivated him. He always wondered if she did it on purpose.
In the time back at the Academy and early on in their missions together, he would have immediately said yes, she'd love to twist him around with her large intelligent eyes and quick tongue, but as the years went on, he wasn't so sure.
She felt him watching her and her eyes flickered over to him without moving any of part of her body. He shrugged out of his button up without breaking eye contact and slipped into an old cotton shirt. May had moved back to analyzing the grounds.
He walked over to her, not truly realizing how much her presence calmed him until now. The back of his hand brushed hers and the contact immediately caught her attention.
"Stay?"
The fear and vulnerability was clear in his eyes and she conceded.
"I'll wake you."
Her unspoken objection was clear and the revelation about her nightmares sent him spinning through their last few months together on the Bus. How had he not know they had come back? He knew how, she was a master concealer; of pain, fear, of exhaustion, but he mentally kicked himself. He was supposed to be better than that. He was supposed to have her back.
"I don't care."
She shrugged out of her leather jacket without another word, slipping out of her boots and under the comforter with him. His body radiated warm as his arms curled around her waist. It felt like a moment of the old days. She smelled like jasmine; exotic and calming, and he found himself drifting off almost immediately.
Her nightmares woke them first.
He didn't remember what he was dreaming, a muddled mixed T.A.H.I.T.I. mess he suspected, when her voice pulled him from it.
"Tíngzhǐ."
She hadn't moved from his arms, but it was clear she was distressed. Her eyes moved under her eyelids and her body was tense. May twitched slightly in his arms. He ran his hand up and down her spine, "Melinda." He kept his tone quiet and calm.
"Qǐng tíngzhǐ."
Her name seemed to settle her slightly and she stopped moving, but her mutterings continued, barely louder than a whisper. "Wǒ - wǒ bùnéng—Xiǎo nǚhái? Nǎ lái de xiǎo nǚhái?"
He felt a familiar wound reopen as he watched her fight an opponent he couldn't see. "Melinda, I need you to focus on my voice. Everything's all right, no one is in danger," he said soothingly. "You're okay."
"Qǐng bùshì tā. Shānghàile wǒ, ér bùshì."
She was talking too quickly for him to keep up with her Chinese. He ran a hand through her hair, feeling her normally cool skin feverishly hot.
Coulson couldn't wake her; after Bahrain he quickly learned that whatever was going on in her mind was too powerful for him to rip her from. He had made the mistake of trying to shake her once, desperate to try anything to stop the tears, and ended up being thrown through a mirror. The sound of breaking glass wasn't enough to wake her; only May could do that.
He had however learned to be very good at trying to quiet them away.
"Everything's okay, try to breathe."
She still and for the next few minutes he listens to her breathing before he's sure that for this moment, her ghosts have settled.
He drifted off again.
Tíngzhǐ: "Stop"
Qǐng tíngzhǐ: "Please stop."
Wǒ - wǒ bùnéng: "I-I can't."
Xiǎo nǚhái? Nǎ lái de xiǎo nǚhái?: "The little girl? Where's the little girl?"
Qǐng bùshì tā. Shānghàile wǒ, ér bùshì: "Please not him. Hurt me instead."