A/N – The story is turning out to be more challenging that I initially thought it would be, so I'm doing a lot of reading to keep up with my plans. Hopefully, the story would turn out okay.

CHAPTER 1

The Bus has remained on autopilot even it has been hours since the three agents returned from the mission. The Bus was still heading to New York City as planned and was scheduled to land in approximately three hours. However, the cockpit was uncharacteristically empty, to Coulson's surprise. May was nowhere to be found.

Coulson headed down to the lab to check on Simmons and the BTN-4. The doors were completely locked when he arrived. He rapped at the glass thrice. Hearing this, Simmons sets down the test tube and the glass dropper she had at hand before heading out.

"How's the BTN-4?" asked Coulson, as he followed Simmons back to her working area.

"It's still in the freezer, sir. I've been dying to work on it since we arrived, but I've decided to wait until we're grounded and I'm at a S.H.I.E.L.D. research facility with all the equipment I'd need. From what the files we got in the lab, the BTN-4 is really something and I don't want to unleash that monster while we're flying thousands of feet up in the air," she replied.

"So what were you working on, then?" he pointed at the glassware Simmons was using a while ago.

"It also says in the files that BTN-4 is a bacterial strain that looks and behaves a lot like Mycobacterium tuberculosis, or the bacteria that causes tuberculosis, since it's an improved version of the bacteria to divide faster, be more infective, and be generally be more dangerous than its predecessor. So since the genome of MTB has been fully sequenced, I'm making revised formulations of the BCG vaccine that could possibly cure the BTN-4, just in case we'd ever need one."

Coulson nodded. He was already informed that whoever was or were behind the BTN-4 planned to attack on three cities – Tokyo, Chicago, and Rio de Janeiro. Considering the population of these cities, he could imagine the disastrous effect BTN-4 would have. While they already have the BTN-4 at hand at they already destroyed the facility where it was, two other facilities in still unknown locations in the United States still have the bioweapon and S.H.I.E.L.D. is still racing against the clock to prevent the bioterror attacks from happening.

"Have you seen Agent May?" he asked. Simmons shook her head. "I haven't seen her since we got back, sir."

The cockpit was still empty when he came back to check if she was already there. Coulson went to the other areas in the Bus where May could probably be, but much to his avail, May wasn't there. He knocked on the door of her quarters, but didn't receive any response.

He was going back to the cockpit once again when he remembered that he hasn't been to the kitchen just yet.

Needless to say, relief washed over him as he saw her standing in front of the sink with her back facing him.

"May," he called out, and she turned around to face him. She held a bag of ice against her right arm. Coulson immediately rushes towards her in concern.

"What happened?" May remained silent.

"May," said Coulson, forcefully. "What happened to your arm?"

She shrugged. "I took a bad hit," she replied, taking a seat on one of the dining chairs. "It's nothing to worry about."

Coulson took a chair and sat in front of her. "Let me see it." May placed the bag of ice on top of the table and hesitantly drew her arm to Coulson so he could examine it.

She instantly winced as Coulson lifted her sleeve above her injury. May's arm swelled, and the deformation of her arm became evident now that her sleeve was not there to cover it up anymore.

"We have to have Simmons put your arm up in a sling," May grabbed her improvised ice pack from the table and placed it on her arm again.

"She's working on the BTN-4. There's no need to bother her, Coulson. I could handle my arm until we –"

"Melinda, your arm needs to be in a sling, and you know it. You're coming with me to the lab so she could help you with that, got it?"

May followed Coulson out of the kitchen and down to the lab with her jaws clenched.

Simmons ended up cutting a large square out of one of her lab coats as the Bus wasn't equipped with any splinting equipment. "This is my fault," She turned to May as she folded the square cloth in half, making a triangle. "That guy wouldn't have hit you if it wasn't for me."

May shook her head in response. "I was only doing my job, Simmons. I was there with you to handle the guards while you while you retrieve the bioweapon."

Simmons sighed. "But you didn't have to get hurt if I'd just defended myself," she muttered under her breath.

Fitz entered the lab as Simmons was tying the ends of the cloth behind May's neck. "What happened to Agent May?"

"She broke her arm during the last mission," Coulson answered.

"Is she going to be okay?" asked Fitz, walking towards Simmons' direction.

"The sling would only prevent further damage, but we'd have to get her to a hospital as soon as possible," said Simmons. "May, I'm really sorry…"

May placed her free hand on Simmon's shoulder. "There's no point in blaming yourself for this. This is not your fault."

"You'd better rest, May," The three agents turned to Coulson. "I'd be notifying HQ that we'd be landing in New York on autopilot. Any unnecessary movement would only make your arm worse. You can stay here, with FitzSimmons, or you can rest in your room, but there's no way you're going back to the cockpit, understand?"

May resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The two's interaction made FitzSimmons share a look.

May estimated that they'd be landing in less than two hours. However, she still had a long trip ahead of her.

While Coulson exited the lab and headed back to the Command Center, FitzSimmons went back to work and May took a seat on of the lab stools.

After a short video call to the Headquarters and Coulson's short discussion with the person-in-charge regarding the circumstance that they'd be arriving while in autopilot, the Bus was given the clearance to land without a pilot in the cockpit.

Coulson pulled out his phone from his pocket, searched for a name that he'd grown fond of over the years in his contacts, and pressed the call button.

The person on the other end of the line picked up after three rings.

"State your name and clearance level, please."

"Agent Phil Coulson. Level 8."

For a moment, the opposite line went silent. He hears the phone being passed on to another.

"Hello, Phil. Well, my job description doesn't actually permit me to say that it's nice for you to call."

Coulson smiled. "It's great that she's still has that harsh sense of humor intact," he thought.

"I hope you don't have any patients today, Annie. May's got a broken arm."

A/N – OC ALERT! Get to know more of Annie in the upcoming chapters. Stay tuned.