A/N: This chapter is an alternate ending relative to the first one. It's about what would have happened if Melinda found out that she and Phil were soulmates. If you went here expecting a continuation, I'm really, really sorry.
This is told in Phil's POV, because I thought it would be nice if we got to see how he felt during the first chapter.
Phil Coulson was preparing for his next session. Raina steps into the room and hands him a clipboard. He thanks his receptionist, then proceeds to skim through the patient information. Melinda May, mid-20's. Air Force pilot. Laser tattoo removal? He's heard amusing regret stories about tattoos, but boy he really can't wait to hear this one.
He was putting on his gloves when he hears the door open. When he turns, he is greeted with the sight of what he could easily describe as the most beautiful woman he's ever laid eyes on. She had her dark hair up in a ponytail, her bangs framing her face and drawing attention to what he considers were eyes with a mischievous gleam in them.
"So, what is it?" he attempts to break the ice. "A drunken tattoo?"
She huffs. He's fairly sure that he's just made her laugh, but also based on her reaction, he's fairly sure that it's not a drunken tattoo.
He introduces himself, and she does the same. He doesn't tell her that she doesn't have to introduce herself – he reads every clipboard before each session, like a good doctor should. When she offered him a handshake, he also doesn't tell her how his heart jumped up his throat, recognizing what he thinks is a familiar mark on her wrist.
She tells him that she wants it gone. For a moment, he felt the whole world crashing in on him. But is it really her? He isn't even certain yet. He swallows the forming knowledge about their connection, gulping it down some place where he hopes it wouldn't come back up. He has to know for sure before telling her.
He balls his hands into fists so as to resist the urge to touch her. He pronounces himself weak when he finds himself giving in, stepping toward her because damn him if he really wants to know. He's waited his whole life for her.
If it really is her, he's glad that they met under these circumstances. If things were any different, it would have been inappropriate for him touch her. He's never been happier with his choice of profession than right now.
When he steps closer into her space, he finds himself not wanting to be an inch farther from her. For the rest of his life. She offers him her hand and he thanks the heavens that he was able to stop the gasp that was forming in his throat.
He examines the tattoo. It was exactly like his – two eagles, wings mid-flight and so in sync with each other. They seemed to move with every throb of her pulse. He was right. It was exactly like his own.
He's frustrated at the synthetic material that's separating their skin, but he doesn't show it. He feels the strong need to touch the delicate skin under the tattoo, to really touch his soulmate. He's found her. But he's confused. Why would she want it removed?
"Where did you get this tattoo?" The room has been silent until he spoke. He knows that soulmate marks start appearing shortly after birth, but he feigns ignorance in an attempt to have a conversation with her.
"I've had it since I was little," she shrugs.
"So this is your..." he can't bring himself to say the words, not when he knows that he's removing the one thing that binds them together.
"My soulmate mark," she finishes his sentence for him and just hearing those words from her mouth made his heart sink. Why would she want to do this?
When he finally asks her, she says something about not liking being told what to do. He hated to admit it, but he completely understood. They might have been bound – and if he wanted to take a step further – destined to be together, but they still had free will.
He chooses to respect her decision. He realizes that deep down, in the long run, that choice would come with resentment. He never took enough chances. But surely she's felt the strange pull toward him, just as he has with her, right? Isn't that how one should feel when faced with their soulmate? Their bond is supposed to be like no other – unbreakable and inimitable.
"What happens if you meet your soulmate?" He looks at her, tests how she responds. He hopes that he doesn't look like he's begging her to take the hint. "What if they never believe you then?"
"I already have someone else," she smiles the smile he imagines he would also have if they were together. The smile of a person in love. "Why do you keep asking me these questions? Are you my soulmate?" she teases.
He is torn between letting her go and letting her know.
Phil Coulson never thought that his soulmate would ever break his heart, but he's found himself in the exact situation within thirty minutes of meeting her. Instead, he puts up his last line of defense – his humor. "Maybe I am," he shoots her back his best smile, the biggest one – the one that could hide the deepest hurt.
"Sorry to tell you this," she confesses, and he sees one corner of her mouth curve upward, as if to challenge him. "But I think my someone else might be proposing," when she says it, his hand working from above hers turns to stone. "Better raise your game, Mr. Destiny," was she... flirting with him? Sexual or otherwise, he's beginning to like this banter.
"All kidding aside, though," his expression turns serious, but gentle. "What if they're still out there? What if they've been waiting to meet you? Don't you think it'll crush them to know that you're with someone else?" he pauses. "What if they never told you, but you've already met them?"
He realizes that he's prodding, maybe forcing himself inside her perfectly happy life without him. He sees her features soften, and for a moment she looked like she was hesitating, but then she surprises him as she reaches out to touch his hand, the one that was holding the device. He keeps still the whole moment, anticipating the contact, his heart pounding in his ears.
He manages to quip out another joke despite his own anxiousness. "I'd hate to see your soulmate like this little guy over here," he turns his attention to the now lonesome eagle, flying solo on her wrist.
"I'm sure they'll find someone else," she says it with a warm kind of conviction, somehow comforting him with this unconventional break-up. "And besides, I think I would know if I met my soulmate," her hand finally reaches the exposed spot underneath his lab coat, just above where his glove ends and his skin begins.
They both gasp at the contact, electricity seeming to pleasantly run through their entire bodies. They regard each other for a while. She looks more shocked at the incident than he does. Phil gazes up at her as if he's saying, "Yes, it's me," and she has the look of recognition on her face, much like a cross between accidentally finding buried treasure and discovering a trunk filled with lost memories in an old attic.
The air is heavy between them, and she gently takes the device away from his hand, putting it away to the side. She turns his hand so his palm would face her, carefully pulling his glove down. Slowly, the two eagles reveal themselves, dancing beneath his pounding pulse. His eyes flutter shut when she touches his wrist, still processing the sensation of finding and being found.
When he hears her breath hitch, he opens his eyes to find her shaking her head. This is why he didn't want to tell her in the first place. He doesn't want to have to make her choose. Her eyes are welling up and as much as he hated the loss of contact, he takes his hand away from hers to remove his glove completely.
Soon his skin meets hers again, only this time it was the thickness of his palm against the softness of her cheek. She leans against his touch like she's done it so many times before in so many different lifetimes.
"I've been waiting for you," he says it so softly that his voice breaks.
"I'm sorry," she breathes out.
"You don't have to leave him," he forces himself to say the words, even though he means the complete opposite. He wants her all for himself.
Her fingertips graze his mark again, and when he looks at her, she's biting her lip. He sees that she's warring with herself. When she finally gazes up at him, her dark eyes are searching his blue ones. His breath is taken away by the emotion in them; they were conveying something he knew she wouldn't be able to say out loud.
He conveys the same message through his smile, and she intertwines their fingers together. She lets out a deep breath and simultaneously, his body does the same without even thinking about it. They stay like that for a while until she stands, reaching to cradle his cheek in the same gentle way he did when he first examined her tattoo.
Before he knows it, she is standing on her tiptoes and pressing a soft kiss on his mouth. He didn't have time to kiss her back, because she pulled away as fast as she initiated it. He bites his lower lip in an attempt to mimic the short contact, because right now he wants to lose himself in her but he won't push.
He looks at her longingly, and she squeezes his hand one last time before she picks up her things and leaves. Just like the kiss, she leaves as quickly as she came, her presence immediately becoming a ghost he thinks would haunt him for his entire life.
For a moment he doubts what the kiss meant. Was it goodbye? Or was it a promise – a small taste of something that will grow into something more? She's broken the rules many times; who's to stop her from breaking her own? If she would let him, he would help her rewrite their destiny again in a heartbeat.
He stares after her as she walks out the door, and he remembers the single eagle left untouched on her wrist. Maybe it was a promise.
A/N: Do what you will with the ending. I was actually thinking of removing Andrew from this chapter, but I couldn't bring myself to throw his and Melinda's relationship pre-Bahrain. I just loved seeing her smiling and being happy. :) Don't get the wrong idea, because I will not hesitate to defend Philinda 'till my dying breath. 3 They're the real soulmates lol.