A/N: Hello, all! To the precious anon on tumblr, this is the chapter I was talking about, hehe. X) I think someone requested some Melinda May scenes a while back when I first introduced the Bus team in this fic, so here it is! Time for some angsty fluff (at this point, what else would you expect from me?). Just in case, I'm going to throw out a spoiler alert for Season 2 of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D., as one of the later episodes delves into what happened to May in Bahrain, and I explore that a lot in this chapter. You have been warned!
Thanks for all the faves, follows, reviews, and continued support! I also drew a new cover for the fic, which there will be a link to in my bio because I like how it turned out. :-) I also made a speedpaint of the process of, well, drawing it, so I'll post a link to the video of it on YouTube as well. Hooray for art!
When Agent Melinda May heard the news of Natasha's pregnancy, she simply smiled and congratulated the younger agent whom she had once trained years before. After that, May went on her way and kept to herself.
Little kids weren't really her thing. Or being maternal. Or any of that stuff, really. It surprised her that Natasha, who seemed to have always envisioned herself in a similar non-maternal way as May had, ended up being one of the few people in S.H.I.E.L.D. who took on the double life of an agent and parent. Really, though, May was more than happy for Natasha, and had a feeling this change of pace would be good for the spy.
Once Maggie was born, though, May steered clear of both Romanoff and Rogers. Again, little kids weren't really her thing. Girls even more so. Even though Maggie was just a baby and not at all like the girl from May's fateful encounter in Bahrain, as Phil pointed out, May kept her distance.
She didn't like letting people in, especially vulnerable little girls.
And, much to her fears, that was exactly what Maggie was: a vulnerable little girl. Though she was tough, and outgoing, and optimistic, and strong on the outside, May knew who the girl's parents were, and what that would probably mean for Maggie's own mental state somewhere along the line.
She was too innocent for this life, May thought. Too innocent to be surrounded by bloodshed and violence, even if it were justified in the overall heroes versus villains way of the world. There was no way such joy and faith could be preserved in someone so small for so long.
Skye eventually met the girl when she was five. The agent had been so busy with Inhuman business for years, that it seemed like she never got the chance to meet Maggie, until then. It was an unintentional meeting, with Skye detecting Maggie's presence from a 'molecular level' when with Phil. Apparently, Maggie had a unique molecular 'sound' to Skye, that May didn't really understand, but didn't try to decipher. After all, this was coming from the agent who claimed she could sense other people's hands at cards on team game nights, and that turned out to just be bluffing, in the end (which May had suspected all along).
Finally, Phil seemed to have had enough with May avoiding the daughter of the agent who had served as her prodigal rookie for a short time, years and years ago. He forced the two to meet in his office, after tricking May and luring her there.
(He informed her he needed help defending himself from possible pranks Skye or Clint may be pulling soon, and would also need May to plan offensive strategies for him to get them back. Of course she fell for the temptation.)
When she walked into the room, Maggie just kind of stared at her. It wasn't judgmental or guarded, May noted, but generally curious and intrigued. She then looked back up at Phil, who May understood had become somewhat of an uncle figure for the girl, as if requesting permission to run up and greet the newcomer with a hug. (Seriously, though, the child of Natasha Romanoff - and she hugged willingly?)
Phil just gave Maggie a reassuring smile and nod, saying some brief words about a certain "Agent Melinda May" from all the "saving S.H.I.E.L.D." stories coming to visit. Next thing May knew, there were arms thrown around her waist, and an excited babble of fangirlish nonsense flowing from the redhead's mouth.
This was the daughter of the stoic Black Widow and no-nonsense Captain America? Damn, May thought. Life sure worked in mysterious ways.
"Phil." The discomfort in her voice was evident, but also lined with irritation and agitation. Her gaze was icy, and body tense. Maggie seemed to take no mind or notice, though, and Phil just shrugged nonchalantly.
"She gives the best hugs, so I suggest you try her out," Phil offered, his expression and smile light. "You wouldn't believe how well Captain Rogers and Agent Romanoff have trained her in the art of physical affection."
May couldn't believe her ears. Here she was, with a six year old girl literally attached to her at the waist, while May was trying to block out memories of a seemingly similar little girl who demanded pretty much the same amount of attention.
Part of her wanted to hug Maggie back, honestly, but she was terrified. What if she had to take her out a moment afterward? What if Maggie suddenly turned on May and Phil, forcing their hands in killing her? What if Maggie really wasn't who she seemed to be?
May's head spun from all these fears and questions, but Phil just watched her calmly. He blinked, arms crossed over his chest, examining her closely. "She won't break if you touch her, Melinda."
Those words chipped the ice surrounding May's heart just a bit. How did Phil know, for sure, that this would not end badly later?
Maggie was looking up at her now, with those big blue eyes of hers. She looked so innocent and curious, it was kind of starting to freak May out. Just a bit. "You're funny."
"Funny?" May automatically echoed from pure confusion, then cursed herself for engaging the girl in a conversation. If she talked to her, May just knew she would get attached.
"Yeah, funny," Maggie confirmed nonchalantly, still looking up at May. "You don't hug back."
May just blinked, and Maggie followed with the same action. It was an odd stare down, really. Briefly, May thought back to when she first met Natasha, the quiet and cold-hearted assassin, back when Clint initially brought her in. Phil had asked May to help out with training the two 'kids,' as he referred to the newly born STRIKE Team: Delta.
And May did. She spent a lot of time sparring with Natasha in the gym, and swapping fighting techniques with her. Natasha eventually emerged from her silent shell and befriended May, but never talked about her past. May didn't push her, as she didn't want to talk about her own, either.
Now, though, May had to wonder: would Natasha still let Maggie be around the senior agent if she knew the truth about Bahrain?
May really didn't want to know the answer to that question.
Maggie finally released the agent, but still stood right in front of her, her eyes never leaving May's gaze. Phil was just smirking from where he stood behind Maggie, a few feet away.
"You both share a mutual interest in pranks, by the way," he offered, causing May to raise an eyebrow. He reached behind himself, onto his desk, grabbing a crumpled up piece of paper. Unfolding it, he offered it to May.
She took the offering, and opened it fully. She smirked when she saw the Captain America is my true love! scrawled over it. Thinking for a moment, she deduced it to be Maggie's handwriting, though the word choice was probably dictated by someone else (read: Clint Barton).
"That was taped on the back of my jacket this morning," Phil sighed, shaking his head in exasperation. "This one claimed to know 'nothing' about it."
He gestured to Maggie's giggling form, and, God, the girl was cute. May forced herself to focus her eyes on the wrinkled sign once more, because she knew Maggie was more than capable of charming whoever she wanted just by a simple glance.
Unfortunately, Maggie was now even closer to her, leaning over her arm to examine the sign. "Uncle Clint told me what to write, and he helped me spell. But I wrote it all by myself!"
She was really proud of herself, and looked up at May expectantly. May could kind of tell Maggie must be really spoiled by all her 'relatives,' judging by the way she was waiting for May to praise her penmanship at age six.
"Being able to write isn't anything special," May quipped instead, handing the paper back to Phil without so much as a glance at Maggie. "Your writing is messy, and could use some work."
May wasn't trying to be mean, really; she just wanted Maggie to stay far away, and unattached. Emotional attachments were fatal in this line of work, and their lifestyle in general. The less Maggie liked May, the safer she would be, May argued to herself.
But Maggie didn't look discouraged. Instead, she was already working on a new way to get around May's walls. "Can you teach me how to write better?"
Phil was still smirking like an asshole, and May glared at him. He knew that Maggie was persistent, and wouldn't just let May enter her life for a brief ten minutes and just leave. Of course Maggie wouldn't let her do that, of course.
"My handwriting isn't very good, either," May tried with a shrug. "You can ask your Uncle Phil; he's had a hard time deciphering a lot of my reports in the past."
That was too much information, May silently scolded herself. Now Maggie would have a reason to be able to relate to her. Damn it.
"Really?" Maggie asked, surprised, looking back and forth between the two senior agents. "Uncle Phil, really?"
"Yeah, really," Phil went along with her little lie, amused. "Maybe you two should try to better your handwriting together."
That got Maggie's excitability going. She was rocking back and forth on her feet now, and May just gave Phil the look of death.
"That's such a cool idea, Uncle Phil!" Maggie agreed energetically. "Can we do it, Agent May? Please?!"
She was dragging out her vowels and syllables now, and her eyes were just begging for May to comply. May sighed. Where Natasha Romanoff was dangerously persuasive, Maggie was adorably irresistible. It was actually somewhat frustrating for May, who had experienced more than her fair share of Natasha's mischief. It looked like the apple had not fallen far from the tree, after all.
Maggie was beaming up at May still, and the woman just sighed. "I don't think that's a good idea."
"Why?" Maggie tilted her head to the side, looking as earnestly curious as ever. "Your handwriting is probably better than mine already."
Though the sentence came out in a childish jumble of mispronounced words and stumblings, May easily deciphered it word for word. She almost smiled, in fact. Damn it.
"It just isn't," May insisted vaguely, stepping away from the uncle and niece duo. "Look, I gotta go."
She turned toward the door, and was about to make her grand escape when Maggie caught her by the hand. May tried to bury the instant feeling of panic that had flared up inside of her at the sudden contact, memories of the last little girl who tried to take her hand filling her vision.
"I wanna see you again." It wasn't a question or even a request - Maggie spoke like it was law. Even then, her voice was still as soft and casual as ever, her grip on May's hand loose. "So we can play."
May had no clue how her distant behavior resulted in Maggie wanting to play with her, but she didn't bother asking.
"Can we play sometime?"
Maggie looked hopeful, and completely earnest in her request. It would be hard to say, 'no.'
So, May compromised instead. "Maybe."
Finally, she made her getaway, as Maggie released her hand as she walked away, without looking back once.
Maggie turned to Phil after May had left. "You're right, she is shy."
Phil gave a little laugh at that, walking up to the small girl with his hand raised. "You handled it extremely well, though. High-five, baby Avenger."
May heaved an exhausted sigh as she unlocked the door to her office, immediately dropping her duffel bag to the floor once inside. Closing the door behind her, she flipped the lights on, and groaned at what she saw.
"Good evening, Agent May," Skye greeted with a (very obviously fake) British accent, from the middle of the floor, where she sat on a blanket with Jemma Simmons and, of course, none other than Maggie Rogers. "Would you care to join us for tea?"
They had a small tea set sitting between them, the cups empty and small plates holding plastic toy foods. There was a paper plate in the middle of the setup, though, holding actual food - cookies, it looked like.
May caught a whiff of them as she inhaled - they were Romanoff's chocolate chip cookies, no less. Those things were legendary within S.H.I.E.L.D., as the amazing taste of them took nearly every consumer by surprise, considering Natasha's generally less-than-satisfactory cooking skills with everything else.
"Mama made cookies," Maggie added cheerfully, but then realized her lack of an accent. "I mean, 'Mama made cookies!'" The accent was about as awful and botched as May had been expecting, but still pretty cute.
God damn it all.
"Agent Coulson told us you'd be arriving home this evening, and we thought we'd surprise you when you returned," Simmons answered May's unasked questions, her accent actually legitimate and natural. "There's nothing like a nice tea party after a long mission."
May's mission hadn't been long at all, actually, compared to some of the hefty things she'd done in the past. She had only been gone two days this time.
What could she do? It wasn't like May could just kick them all out. Well, technically, she could; it was her office, after all, that they had let themselves into. (Or, more accurately, Phil must have unlocked it for them, as he was the only other person who had access to the room. Damn it.) She made brief eye contact with Skye, whose gaze was suggesting May not do anything that could potentially hurt the young girl's feelings.
The funny part about that was that May recognized Skye's expression as one of her infamous Melinda May glares (titled and compiled by Phil Coulson, of course) - though it was a more low-key one, it was still dangerous, and usually used in the context of her loved ones being threatened or hurt.
Damn, Skye had only known Maggie for a year, and, yet, she was already crazy protective.
So, with another sigh, May crossed over to them and joined the tea party, sitting between Skye and Maggie, as Simmons and Skye made sure there was no room between the two of them for the senior agent; that basically forced May to sit next to Maggie.
"Would you like one of Mama's cookies?" Maggie offered, holding out one of the many cookies - Jesus Christ, how long did Tasha spend in the kitchen? - from the plate in the center of the blanket.
"Thanks," May murmured, taking the small dessert from Maggie. She bit into it quietly and slowly, trying to ignore the pressing gazes of both Skye and Simmons and the nonchalant gaze of Maggie.
Maggie suddenly giggled a bit, and May nearly fell head-over backwards in surprise. "Mama said you usually eat a lot of them, so that's why she made a lot," she explained happily. "I wish she usually made this many."
"You and me both, kid," Skye nodded her head in agreement, mouth stuffed to the brim with cookies, causing her cheeks to bulge a bit. "I wish your mom came to work more often with cookies."
"Skye, you hafta speak like Agent Simmons, remember?" Maggie corrected the hacker. "That's the rule of a tea party."
"Sorry, Your Majesty, it slipped my mind," Skye sighed, swallowing her mouthful of cookies and bowing her head in shame. Simmons hid her amused laughter at the sight behind the tea cup she was pretending to drink from.
"Maggie is the princess of this tea party," the scientist explained to May, noticing the dark haired agent's raised eyebrows. "We switch off every time."
"Next time, I'll corn-rate Agent Skye," Maggie added, completely butchering the pronunciation of 'coronate.' It amused May, and the woman actually found herself chuckling. (What the hell, May, keep it cool, keep it cool…)
One thing May found interesting was Maggie's use of the title 'Agent' in front of everyone's names. Phil had been the one to bring it up to her after their initial encounter weeks before, though May had noticed it all along, but never voiced it. Apparently, Maggie thought it was so cool to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, that having the term 'Agent' before your name was the coolest thing ever. Therefore, she used it for people whenever she could, even though she pretty much knew them all on a first name basis by this point.
Well, that is, she pretty much knew everyone on a first name basis by this point, except for Agent Melinda May.
"Nah, I'll pass; I think it should be May," Skye suggested, eying her supervising officer mischievously. "Don't you guys think so, too?"
Simmons nodded with the same mischief in her eyes, believe it or not. That just showed how much she had grown since she first began working with the other women in the room, May thought, as Simmons used to openly allude to her fear of May.
Maggie also nodded, though her eyes were filled with pure enthusiasm, and no mischief, for once. "That'll be so much fun!"
"If that's what you want," May shrugged, briefly glancing at Maggie, before turning back to her chocolate chip cookie.
"You hafta talk in the 'Agent Simmons voice' if you wanna be Tea Party Princess, though, Agent May," Maggie reminded her very seriously, her expression leaving no trace of casualty or joking around. Before she registered her own reaction, May smirked.
Oh, damn it all.
Maggie's eyes never stopped wandering the room. Every time she moved, even the slightest bit, she would turn back and look over her shoulder. There were enemies hiding in the depths of the shadows, she swore, as she had seen them emerge only minutes before.
She had just woken from a nightmare.
Phil was trying to calm her down, but it wasn't going very well. During these scary times, Maggie needed one of the Avengers, specifically her parents. She huddled under the blanket, almost looking like she was cold, despite the September heat.
The Red Room attack had occurred two months prior, and Natasha had almost completely recovered now, thanks to her enhancements. In fact, that was the reason Maggie was at the Triskelion in the first place - all of the Avengers had been called in for a team meeting, and Pepper wasn't available to watch her.
That resulted in the Avengers just bringing her along, and Phil watching her for a while. He loved spending time with her, so he was more than happy to do the job.
Unfortunately, Maggie wanted to be anywhere but there in that moment, and he didn't know what to do.
And when Phil Coulson panicked, he panicked wisely - he called Melinda May for help.
She was always so calm and collected and just generally a badass, that chances were usually good she would have an answer during the times Phil did not.
So, that's how May ended up walking through the door two minutes later, only to be greeted with the sight of Phil standing at one end of the room, with Maggie huddled in a blanket on the couch on the other.
She looked so frightened, May was actually frightened herself. From what she had seen of Maggie before the Red Room attack, the girl was never less than happy and always expressive. But now?
Now, Maggie's empty gaze could rival that of Natalia Romanova's.
That was what immediately told May that this was no prank, no trick just to get her to spend time with Maggie; something was actually wrong here.
May walked up to Phil, slowly and quietly, so Maggie could see everything she was doing. The redhead didn't greet the senior agent at all, though.
"Phil," May spoke quietly, her voice as sharp as ever, "what happened?"
The man sighed, looking defeated and just plain sad. "A nightmare. A bad one, at that. Every time I try to approach her, she just shrinks farther into that blanket, and away from me. I know she just needs some time to properly wake up and gather her bearings, but I can't just let her sit there, scared and alone."
May looked back over at Maggie's trembling form as Phil spoke, able to visualize everything he was saying. Though a cooling off solitary period was usually vital for haunted adults, troubled children were much different. And for someone as dependent on others as Maggie was, at the vulnerable age of six, she needed someone to be there with her while she snapped out of it.
Thinking back on the descriptions she'd heard and read of what happened when Maggie was alone with Natasha on the run and the final confrontation, May turned back to Phil. "I remember, when they first came back, Hill said sudden male voices usually startled Maggie. Even though she may be seeing you right now, you're still a grown man looming over her, which almost ended awfully last time that happened."
Phil's expression tightened with acceptance at his inability to help as he nodded. "Then, can you help her?"
This was it. May had fought, pushed, protested, and done everything she could have possibly done to keep Maggie at a distance no closer than arm's length. She had persisted in closing the little girl out, and refusing to let her in.
Fate was speaking now. Maggie was in trouble, and May was the only one who could help. Melinda May was destined to be in Maggie Rogers' life and protect her, despite the past and the last little girl May had tried to help.
May finally nodded in response, accepting this existential revelation. She walked slowly up to Maggie, watching as the small girl looked up at the approaching presence with a terrified expression.
"Maggie? Maggie, hey, it's me, Agent Melinda May," May spoke softly with each step. Maggie's expression scarcely changed, aside from a quick blink. May took that as a sign of Maggie's logical side trying to fight its way back to the surface through this paranoid, nightmarish funk. "I'm not going to hurt you, I promise."
That statement meant a lot to May, she later realized. This encounter was paralleling the occasion with the gifted girl, somewhat, but May pushed the anxious thought and her increased heart rate to the back of her mind. Maggie couldn't and wouldn't hurt her; Maggie actually needed her.
When May reached the couch and crouched down to Maggie's eye level, Maggie quickly hid under the blanket, as if that would protect her. What May would have normally expected to be a childish and silly action was now just nervous and pitiful. Maggie had been under a bed when Alexei Shostakov confronted her, but now that she was on top of a couch, she had nowhere else to hide.
"Hey, hey, come out of there," May gently prodded, giving a light tug to a corner of the blanket. "It's me, May. You're at the Triskelion, and you're completely safe right now, I promise."
May waited patiently as Maggie slowly and carefully lifted the blanket, her blue eyes looking a bit clearer and more alert than when she had initially hid. Maggie eventually let the blanket drop from her shoulders and pool around her on the couch.
"See? It's just me, Agent May. I won't hurt you, I promise," May assured the girl.
She took another leap of faith away from Bahrain, this time deciding to be the person to offer her hand.
"Take my hand, touch me, feel that I'm telling the truth."
Maggie looked between the offered appendage and the unexpectedly gentle and sympathetic expression of May. Phil watched from the other side of the room, silently appreciating the huge steps May was taking and hoping this would ultimately help Maggie heal, too.
After a few seconds, Maggie grabbed May's hand, and squeezed it as a test. May's smile just grew softer at that.
Finally, with a quiet voice, Maggie addressed her. "Agent May?"
May nodded slowly but deeply, making sure the motion was big enough for Maggie to see and comprehend, as opposed to the micro nods and expressions May was used to sharing with other agents. "It's me, I promise, Maggie."
Maggie seemed content with that answer as she also nodded, and then threw her arms around May's neck for a comforting hug. The gesture took May by slight surprise, and she fell backward to the floor from her crouched position. She grabbed Maggie as she re-settled on the floor, crossing her legs and pulling the six year old into her lap.
This was supposed to feel so wrong, a voice inside of May swore, but the rest of her disagreed. This felt so right. May was meant for this. She was allowed to be maternal; what had happened in Bahrain wasn't her fault, and didn't mean she had to lose all warmth and compassion.
And, now, Maggie was crying, her voice shaky as she tried to explain her dream. "I th-thought Alexei was gonna catch me again. I thought he ki-killed Mama."
May silently grieved at the fact Maggie both knew what that meant and had an actual memory of fearing the action being done in front of her. She rubbed the girl's back slowly and gently, not sure if this was how to comfort a child or not, but just going with her gut. "Ssh, it's okay now, you're safe. Alexei will never hurt you or your mother again," she murmured softly, hoping her tone and diction would have some sort of positive effect.
And, it seemed to, as May could feel Maggie quickly nod against her shoulder. Despite what had led to this, May found herself smiling, relieved that Maggie was feeling better, and that Bahrain seemed to have left her mind despite the close presence of little Maggie Rogers. Here they were, sitting on the floor, Maggie crying her fears out, Phil watching from the sidelines, and May reconnecting with her pre-Bahrain self.
"Thank you, Agent May," Maggie offered with a sniffle after a few minutes, leaning back so she could actually meet May's gaze. May offered a smile as Maggie swiped at a stray tear that fell from her eye. "I feel better now."
"Good," May commented reassuringly. "Sometimes, it just takes talking about what we're afraid of to feel better."
She could swear she could feel Phil's gaze burning into the back of her skull at the irony.
"That's what Daddy says, too," Maggie agreed, bringing a fist up to each eye to rid them of the excess water of the unshed, leftover tears.
"Well, he's definitely right," May verified, glancing back at Phil, who was now grinning like an idiot.
Bahrain was now the last thing on May's mind.
A/N: Sappy ending is sappy, eh? Also, kudos to everyone (hopefully a lot of people?) who got the reference in the title, "I Don't Think We're in Bahrain Anymore." XD For those of you who didn't, it's a reference to the line, "Toto, I don't think we're in Kansas anymore," in Wizard of Oz.
