Couldn't have imagine so many supports from you. Happy 2015!
Please do review. I'd love to share your understanding on the canon characters. Your reviews will also motivate me to keep going in the new year.
When his cell rang, Coulson was both nervous and relieved. It couldn't be from anybody other than May. He almost forgot how inconvenient mobile devices used to be. Before May set off for her mission, they agreed on a temporary protocol for emergency contact. He was glad to hear from May, but he also knew she wouldn't be calling if it wasn't absolutely necessary.
May's voice came through. "Mission success." she said concisely, after they exchanged their confirmation of identity.
"Good." he knew there was more.
"You can send the girl back now." her words came bluntly.
Coulson could think of nothing but growl. "What?!" he couldn't believe what he had heard.
"Her name was listed in an objects-affected-by-operation monitoring programme." May ignored him, "That's why we got the mission. It's a routine checkup. I cleaned up the files. Now her name is no longer in S.H.I.E.L.D. system. She's cleared now. Nobody will knows we are having her."
"How could you say that." he exclaimed, "This is Skye we're talking about, for god sake. And you just want to send her back to orphanage?!"
"We have to. She DID grow up in an orphanage." Her calmness irritated him further.
"Yeah, right. That's a clean shot indeed. Get rid of her, leave her on her own. She reached her adulthood anyway didn't she?" he bit back sarcastically, "Have you ever heard of her terrifying stories living in a van? Wait, I guess not, 'cos you don't TALK."
There was an audible inhale, but her voice was measured and steady when she went on, "I leave her on her own because she has to be on her own. Drop the hypocrisy, Phil. You know all she will have IS herself. "
Obviously he stopped processing whatever she said. "Do you know she keeps asking when you'll be back?" Coulson said incredulously, "She loves you so much. Have you formed a goddamn habit? Pushing everybody away?"
There was a moment of dead silence.
"You have no idea what you are talking about." May dropped the words one by one in a dangerously calm manner. And with a quiet click, the phone went dead.
Coulson stared at the cellphone and was furious for a moment. Then the rationality kicked in and he felt a stabbing pain in his chest. May never hung up on people - it was simply who she was, generous and tolerant - and that fact alone spoke volume. Also, it was hardly the first time that he somehow misunderstood May and said hurtful things.
However, there was no way he would send Skye back at this moment. May would have to deal with him when she came back.
Out of the corner of his eyes, Coulson saw Skye stumbled out of her room. "What's wrong?" she asked fearfully.
"Nothing, princess." Coulson put on a warm smile and hugged the girl, "Go get dressed. We are heading for McDonalds."
=x=
They was having great fun digging in fast-food. Skye clutched fries in both of her hands and still managed to take a sip of her juice. When she finished, her fingers were smeared with sticky ketchup, and so was her face. She lifted her arms and looked at Coulson a little helplessly.
"You can wipe it clean on your pants. It's May's turn to do the laundry." Coulson smirked revengefully - deep down he was still a little mad at May's decision - while handing her some tissue.
Skye dropped her mouth wide open, scandalized. And Coulson almost regretted remarking like a rebellious child.
"May will come back tomorrow?" Skye had cleaned up her face and was squeezing the remaining ketchup into her chocolate sundae.
Coulson watched her devouring the sundae in amazement. "No later then tomorrow, yes." he answered.
"Can we eat here again?"
"Yeah, I think so."
"I don't think May will let us. She says fries is unhealthy."
"How about I tell May to come home one day later? Then we can come here again tomorrow."
"No!" the girl exclaimed, "She has already missed two of my training. No."
"Okay I won't." Coulson sighed, realizing how strong the bond between them and Skye had got, and furthermore how damaging it would be if they broke it up, "I promise you you can see her tomorrow."
=x=
When they finally got home, Skye was exhausted but wasn't ready to sleep alone. Coulson set up the second-hand VHS and played one of the Disney cartoon videos he had bought.
It took no time for the girl to fall asleep. Coulson carried her to her bedroom and sat in the dark at her feet.
May's words earlier still haunted him. "You have no idea what you are talking about", she had said, and no matter how much he would like to object, Coulson admitted that she was right. Melinda May had always been a mixture of mystery and wonder to him. After all those years in the field side by side, he had learnt her habits, likes and dislikes; they could communicate with a look and he knew how to create a tiny smile over her lips. However, he also knew there was part of her that he wasn't getting at all; the part she had hidden from the world as if her life was depending on its secrecy; the part that caused her distant look and stiff lips, and underlay her every move.
There had been a time when he kept probing, nudging her to open up. She shut the door in front of his face, both literally and figuratively. He had decided she needed space and stopped intruding the privacy of her heart. He missed his best friend and he had accepted her for who she became. They connected to each other in a way that he had never experienced with anybody else. Even when she was in Administration and their contact was reduced to occasional email and phone calls, sometimes across different timezones, Melinda May had been the first one he wanted to share with or seek advice from when he got a reward for the agency, or made a dorky mistake on his girl friend. Throughout the years, May had always been there on the other side of his phone calls, listening patiently to his rambling and saying the exact words he needed to hear. Meanwhile, she talked less and less about herself. He had asked for the first few times and noticed she avoided the subject, and he rarely repeated that again.
Reluctantly he admitted that he had made it habitual to turn a blind eye to her real feelings. His excuse was that she was capable of dealing with whatever situation and determined to do so.
An apology would not be sufficient this time, not as Director, not as a friend, not as partners living in different bedrooms down the same hallway, and definitely not as a man whose heart she held a special position in. He needed to listen to her, and she needed to talk. They wouldn't get anywhere further if she couldn't trust him with her darkness. He'd better push her to talk, even if only revealing a single thing he didn't know about.
What did he not know about May?
He did not know about Bahrain. He did not know what her life was like behind the desk in a small office cubicle.
He did not know what had happened after he died and before she was on board with him again.
He did not know if she had ever felt the same way as he did right now.
Honestly, he did not even know if the chance of communication had already slipped away.
Everyone else regarded May as a distant emotionless soldier, but the closest friends of hers knew better. Out of all the people, May would have expected Coulson to keep that in mind. However, she supposed he wasn't the one to blame. One might forget about her real inner self if she pretended to be someone else for too long; how could you expect other people to remember that for you?
She didn't blame Phil but she didn't want to face his accusation either.
May pushed people away so that others did not get the chance to do the same thing to her. She couldn't afford the illusion that she could rely on someone to understand her and bear with her. She was at her strongest and most controllable when she was on her own.
The first night she moved back from hospital to her flat on base, she couldn't shut her eyes. Her eyes had got puffy and sore from keeping watching over her own shoulder, but whenever she rested them, she couldn't hold back the panic arose in her.
It took her until 2:14 in the morning to admit that she needed to stay with somebody. She threw on a coat over her pajamas and went out in her slippers.
Phil lived on the other side of the base.
She saw the light of his flat was on from outside the building. She almost turned around and left but the fear of being alone overwhelmed her.
She walked upstairs and stopped at Phil's door, pressing her ear close to its surface.
She heard laughters, from male and female, and clashes of beer bottles. She couldn't recognize Phil's voice but the whole flat sounded like a cheerful and relaxing place.
Phil had visited her everyday since she was sent to the hospital straight from Bahrain. He had spared her hours out of his tight schedule only to sit at her bedside and coax her to talk. She was aware that she had been neither a cooperating patient nor a enjoyable companion, but no matter how much she protested, he hadn't missed one day.
Phil had his own life, a demanding career, and a cellist girl he determined to chase after since Academy. How long was it since the last time he enjoyed himself with his friends?
She could not intrude his well-deserved gathering. People broke under pressures, so did relationships. May cherished her friendship with Phil so much and she knew she couldn't overstay her welcome. If she could have her way, she would hog his sofa and turned to a coach potato, being utterly unreasonable and oblivious. If only she could act out and let go. But no, she didn't believe she deserved consolation, and no, she didn't think even her closest friends would offer that kind of self-destructing service. She wouldn't drag them down with her anyway.
It was easier to lick her wound in private. She could live with one phone call per week with Phil. He never belonged to her and what he had contributed to their friendship was generous enough.
May quietly left the building. The wind froze her bare feet on her way back - she hadn't noticed how cold the weather was getting.
"I can handle myself." she muttered to nobody but the pale streetlights.
=x=
May walked down the street enveloped in darkness. She unlocked the door and her heart fell when she saw Coulson sitting at the table. She didn't want to reignite the argument right now.
However, Coulson smiled at her slightly, much to her relief. "Go freshen up." he suggested, "I'll heat up the dinner." He stood up and handed her the folded card he was holding on his way to the kitchen.
At least Coulson was still the same guy who remembered she never ate commercial airline food.
Curiously, May unfolded the card and revealed the colorful picture drawn by crayon. In childish handwriting it wrote "Welcome home Agent May".
May sighed and tucked the card in her pocket. She pushed open the door towards Skye's room.
The girl was sleeping peacefully. May lifted the blanket and covered Skye's outstretching arms. She was getting used to her presence, that was the moment she knew she had to cut if off. Personal attachment always came back to haunt her when she tried to do the right thing. Still, she let herself get attached occasionally because a small stubborn wishful part of her believed it was also the right thing to do. Besides, if it really helped the people she cared about, May didn't mind embracing thistles and thorns - she had learned how to handle pain from consistent practice; if somebody had to bear the brunt, she would be a more economical option.
She had got herself attached again, this time to a skinny six-year-old, who was like molten chocolate filling of a cake, oozing out into her life. The girl was so vulnerable yet so brave, so suspicious yet so trusting. She had an unruly soul but she also reciprocated the tinniest sincere kindness with all of her golden heart. She was relying on them and May liked to think that she was installing love and self-esteem, something she had eventually forgotten that she still had it in her, let along passing it on to a child. She was confident, for the first time in her life, that somebody felt a longing for her company, and she secretly enjoyed watching the girl in silence.
Then she learned the girl's name, and foresaw for the inevitable. There was no reason to prolong the suffering if the ending was gonna be the same. That's why she made the phone call, because there was no way she would look at Skye's eyes and still send her away. Phil stood his ground against her, and she was kind of glad he did. Now what she could do was to compartmentalize and focus on the present, which wouldn't be her first time either, so she could live with that.
May took out a brand new box of stunt plane Lego off her backpack and put it next to the girl's pillow before she left the room.
TBC
I always feel that Coulson didn't understand May as much as the other way around.
Downside of setting the timeline in 90s - I have to keep checking which devices existed during that time. I have been taking all the technology for granted and almost forget I lived through the time period, albeit as a kid, when smartphone and online videos were not available. I learnt that VCD was invented in 1993, so I went for video tapes instead. Maybe somebody from California can tell me around what time VCD actually got popular?