A/N: Finally, I figure out what I want to write. This won't be my only story today, so enjoy a little angst to start.


Quiet

Melinda May enjoyed quiet.

On a plane filled with a noisy hacker and even noisier scientists, a quiet moment to herself was few and far between. Staying in the cockpit all day was one of the few things that prevent the pounding headaches that almost always resulted from their antics.

The cockpit was quiet.

Only the hum of the engines and the occasional beep of something on the panel interrupted the pure, unmolested quiet that occupied the cabin. Occasionally, Coulson would slip inside and partake in their usual one-sided conversations, where he has some problem that he needs answers to, and eventually comes to the conclusion that she knew that he knew all that time. At times in the recent past she hated it. It interrupted her quiet.

Today, she pined for it.

It was too quiet.

She wasn't one to talk to herself, but she found herself doing it anyway to fill the empty void. Her eyes focused on the sky ahead, and only the sky, or maybe the panel slightly below. Never to the right. A pang of hurt resonated within her when she saw the empty chair beside her. Always empty, never full. No one sat there, because she didn't have a co-pilot.

She ran him away, in a fit of emotional backlash brought on by the words of a mad goddess.

Were she younger, she would have been happily in denial. Now, she knew it was true. She knew where he was; her co-pilot. Her noisy, talkative co-pilot. He didn't talk much either but he did when near her. Small talk, anything to hear her voice. Back then, it was amusing; now, she missed it.

He was quiet.

He always had something to say, when they passed by each other, or he was keeping her company in the cockpit. Now, he didn't say anything to her. He didn't look at her unless necessary. Even then, he couldn't look away fast enough. He hated her, and she deserved it. She ran him off when she let her emotions get the better of her. She didn't know how to get him back.

What was the point? He was already likely with her anyway. Skye. Who else could it have been; Simmons?

She laughed, breaking up the silence. It was almost laughable. Simmons was sweet; but she was cold, harsh and distant. Everything Skye wasn't. She could love him, care for him, give him everything Melinda couldn't give him. He deserved to be loved, and Melinda couldn't love anyone. Not anymore.

Regret and guilt loved quiet.

So did she, which was why she found herself inviting them both in like a pair of long-lost friends. He needed her, after what Lorelei did to him. Twisted his mind around her little finger, turned him into a plaything against his will. Took him and raped him under the guise of gentle love-making.

He tried to joke it away, but she could see through it like plexiglass. He was hurting. Badly.

He needed her, to comfort him, to console him, to give him a shoulder to cry on, because they both knew that he needed it. He needed her, and she turned her back on him. In emotional backlash from her charge, she turned her back on him. She regretted it immediately, but what could she say? What could she do, that wouldn't make him question if she really knew what she wanted? She didn't. But she knew what he wanted. He could have Skye; she wasn't going to stop him. He needed to be happy, to be consoled. He couldn't console himself by leaning on an ice statue.

That was what she was, an ice statue. Cold, rigid, unfeeling; everything that Grant Ward didn't want, didn't need in a companion. She was good for giving advice, that was it. Everything a lover was supposed to do, she couldn't. Well, she was also a good lay, but he had Skye for that now. She was younger, probably knew things that she didn't. Would probably do thing that she wouldn't. Skye deserved him. She didn't. She had her chance, and she threw it away.

It was a good ride while it lasted, but it wasn't going to. How could it? He was young, vibrant; he probably wanted to get married, have kids. Live a normal life. She couldn't give any of that to him. Skye could. He needed her more than he needed Melinda. He desired her more than Melinda. She had come to accept it for what it was.

Pain festered in quiet.

Her heart ached and lamented what she had done. It was an emotional response, brought on by the words of a mad goddess.

She wasn't one for jealousy. It was beneath her to envy what other people had. She envied what Lorelei had then, what Skye now had. The love and affection he showed her when he kissed her, it was something she wouldn't let him show her. She didn't do love; that was a fact. Every time they slept together, she made sure to sleep with her back to him, to make sure that feelings didn't develop. But, they still did.

She loved him, and it hurt to realize that she denied herself of him. Thinking about forcing herself to attending team meetings, team outings, team relaxation times; watching them get closer and fall in love while she was out in the cold felt a stab to the chest. Unrequited love was the most painful. It was funny, in a cruel way. If she had to choose which one of them would be unrequited, she would have picked him. Because she was an ice queen, cold of heart and frozen in feeling. She didn't do love, nor did she enjoy anything other than the quiet solitude of her frozen cabin.

Tears felt heavier in the quiet.

Hot, salty tears rolled down her cheeks. What had she done? He needed her, and she threw him to the curb. She needed him, and she cast him aside. Cruel irony made her realize what he meant to her after the fact. Now, he was gone, to better and brighter things. Skye could love him, give him everything and anything that Melinda couldn't. He deserved to be loved, and she couldn't give that to him.

The tears kept rolling, and her heart kept aching.

She loved him, needed him. He was gone, and was not coming back.

"I'm so sorry."

The sincerest apologies always went unheard in the quiet.