Her fingers shook as she typed away at the small screen of her cell phone. Through tears she sent the message that she hoped to god he would see. She twisted nervously at the ring that hung securely from the chain around her neck. Her heart beat quickly in her chest as time felt as though it was creeping slowly just to mess with her.
Every passing second without a text back from Phil caused Melinda's chest to tighten. She placed the phone down on her desk, staring at it won't make a text come any faster, she reasoned with herself. Not a minute later, the familiar ringtone echoed throughout the empty room as she hastily picked up the phone. The phone kept ringing as she stared at the caller ID. Hill. She tried to force down every feeling of dread that had filled her chest as she answered the call.
"Hill?" She mentally cursed herself for the shakiness in her voice.
"Agent May. I assume you know what's been going on."
"Some alien invasion. Barton's been compromised. Phil is on the hellicarrier. That's as much as I know." She swallowed that lump of uneasiness that had settled in her throat waiting for the woman to respond.
"Loki. Brother of Thor. Unsure what he's actually here for. Most we know is that he wants Earth." Melinda scoffed. Of course. "Barton attacked the carrier, with help."
Melinda stopped her before she could go any further. "Are you sure we should be discussing this? I'm not a field agent, Hill. I don't have any type of authority."
"I don't care. Not right now." Melinda was surprised by the bluntness. While Maria was straight forward with everything she had to say, there was a forcefulness behind her words. "The carrier was attacked. Loki escaped. Your absolute dumb ass husband confronted him. Alone." Melinda's head immediately started spinning and her chest rose and fell faster than before. "Loki got him. Stabbed him. Through the chest. They called it on the scene."
It had felt like the earth stopped spinning. She tried to process the words, tried to create some sort of reaction to the news. It was like her brain had switched off. She felt empty, not truly comprehending the gravity of what Maria has said. "I'm sorry, May." Maria's voice cut through the prolonged silence. Quickly Melinda took the phone from her ear and pressed the 'end call' button before dropping it onto the wooden desk.
Phil couldn't be dead. Once this was all over he was going to walk through the doors and go on a rant about how stressful it was. Then he'd take her in his arms and begin talking about how totally awesome it was to work with the Avengers. He'd talk about meeting Captain America and the shit Romanoff and Barton had gotten themselves into. Without thinking, she grabbed the hanging chain before tugging down and breaking the clasp that sat on the back of her neck. She slipped the ring off the chain and threw the broken material to the side. She slipped the silver band onto her ring finger before holding her hands close to her chest. There she sat, holding her hands close to her chest, face void of any true emotion. The bright phone screen illuminated the dark room, projecting the last text Melinda had sent to the familiar number.
"Please be careful. I love you, Phil."
••••
It was grey, the whole world was grey. Exactly the type of day you would expect for a funeral. A part of her wished it wasn't. She wished the sun would shine. Phil wouldn't want to be buried on such a gloomy day. She shook the thought away as she slipped on her black shoe. Just one more black accessory, fitting for a widow.
She took a deep breath as she forced herself from the chair she was sitting in. A subtle knock on the door caused her to grab her umbrella before heading towards the sound. She opened it to find Maria, dressed in a black pant suit. The woman offered a small smile before stepping out of the way and letting Melinda through. She walked through the threshold, closing the door behind her and walking away. She opened the passenger side door to Maria's car and slipped in, quietly buckling the seat belt as the other woman started the car.
No words were exchanged between the pair the entire car ride. Melinda simply stared out the window, watching as small water droplets raced each other down the glass. Her heartbeat picked up as they inched closer towards the funeral home. As Maria parked, Melinda mentally prepared herself for the service. Preparing herself for the many condolences she was going to receive. The sympathetic looks she would get the entire time.
"May?" Maria spoke up, breaking Melinda's concentration. "You ready?" It was a dumb question really. How could anyone possibly be prepared to bury their husband?
She thought for a second, wondering if she should just lie to get Maria off her back. With a quick glance Melinda responded. "No." Before opening the door and getting out.
Life around her bustled as she walked toward the big wooden doors. By sheer willpower she made it into the building and was immediately bombarded by the sympathetic stares. She had decided days prior that she wasn't going to show up until the last possible minute. She couldn't sit around knowing Phil was right there as she waited for everyone to show up. She stared straight ahead as she walked, her shoes leaving a small sound in her wake.
She immediately sat in the front pew on her right. Maria walked up and slid in beside her. Nothing was said until Fury made his way to the front and began speaking. Speaking about Phil and how great of a man he was. All the things Phil used to do. Melinda couldn't stand the use of everything in past tense. She couldn't stand hearing her husband talked about as if he was some Renaissance painter. A man who used to do things.
She was derailed from her train of thought as she heard her name being spoken by Fury.
"Melinda," Her first name was foreign coming from his mouth. "knew him better than anybody else." That was her cue. Stand up and speak. She slowly got to her feet and walked to the middle of the room. She stared at the floor until she finally had the courage to look up. It was a small affair. Phil would have wanted it that way. She examined each of them.
Romanoff and Barton right next to each other, the guilt in Barton's eyes ran deeper than the sympathy in Romanoff's. Banner sat off to the side, staring at his hands, twisting them together nervously. Stark and Pepper, her hand clasped on tightly to his. Stark's usually smug expression was replaced with sorrow. Pepper had tears staining her cheeks. Rogers. She could practically hear Phil's voice in her head. Steve Rogers, Melinda! It's Steve Rogers! A small smile threatened to chip at her mask. She quickly shook it off and opened her mouth.
The first attempt was met with nothing more than silence. She quickly closed her mouth again before reopening and finally speaking. "Phil was," God did she hate past tense, " the best thing to ever happen to me. I wouldn't be where I am without Phil." She mentally slapped herself for the way she phrased the compliment. You're speaking at his funeral, dumb ass. "He deserved better than me. I pushed him away. He didn't care. He always came back. No matter how much I convinced myself that it was better for him to be as far away as possible from me, he didn't care. He constantly broke through that barrier of self doubt that I put between us. He loved me." Past tense. Loved. "And I love him." She loves him. No matter if he's dead, she still loves him. There's no past tense to her love for Phil Coulson. She loves him and will continue to love him.
She tried to continue but that lump of grief had secured itself in her throat, allowing nothing more than a sob to escape. She hadn't even realized the tears that were running down her face. She had so much more she wanted to say. She just couldn't. She'd save her words for a later date. Melinda stood there and cried before making her way back to the front pew with Maria. Maria placed a comforting hand on top of Melinda's, securing it tightly after Melinda had flinched away.
Nick continued to speak and Melinda continued to cry. She didn't hear the last part of what he was saying before it was time to carry him away. Stark, Banner, Barton, Fury, and Rogers (with the addition of a funeral home staff member) positioned themselves and picked the wooden casket off of the pedestal. They carried it the short distance from the home to the cemetery that was set up beside it.
Her movements felt sluggish as they placed the casket onto some sort of a contraption. The most she knew about the metal object was that it would lower Phil down. Beside the massive hole in the ground was a basket full of flowers. Roses. Red. Simple. Because Phil enjoyed the simple things.
One by one the attendees grabbed a rose and placed it on top of the polished wood. First Rogers. She heard Phil's voice in her head again. Captain America just put a flower on my casket. Steve Rogers is at my funeral. Her heart ached with wishing. Wishing she didn't have to be here imaging Phil fanboying at his own funeral. Another tear escaped her puffy eye as Banner placed the second rose. Barton and Romanoff followed, placing a third and fourth. Barton's scorched voice broke through the silence.
"I'm sorry." Melinda almost scoffed. It wasn't his fault. It was no one's fault. Other than that son of a bitch asgardian, no one was to blame. However, she knew deep down inside that the guilty feeling doesn't go away, no matter how much you acknowledge that it isn't your fault. Melinda still blames herself half the time and she knows the only thing that will change Barton's mind is time.
Pepper placed the fifth, shortly followed by Stark who placed the sixth. She was almost surprised not to hear some snarky comment from Stark about Phil's first name being Agent or how he was a complete idiot for going after Loki alone. Fury stepped up next, a seventh red rose.
"I'll make sure she takes care of herself. Granted she may kick my ass for trying, but I'll make sure." It surprised her to hear Fury say anything. He had already spoken practically the entire funeral, how was there anything else for him to say? It surprised her more to hear him speak so softly, the roughness of his "director voice" was gone, making a promise to a dead body.
The presence beside her shifted as Maria stepped forward. Eight. Melinda waited until Maria had stepped to the side with everybody else before she even thought of moving. Her legs felt numb, she didn't even realize she was walking until she was standing beside the casket. She reached over and grabbed the delicate flower twisting it between her fingers before lifting it out of its basket.
She carefully placed the ninth rose on the smooth wood. Her nails scraped slightly against the polish as she pulled her hand back. She laid her palm flat on the cold surface. More tears fell from her eyes as a whisper escaped her throat.
"I wasn't there. I was supposed to be there." She had gone over the conversation a million times in her head. The casual exchange between husband and wife that had occurred before the nightmare. The calm before the storm.
"You know they're retiring this fleet?"
"About time. Fury's putting every dime into the Triskellion."
"Not every dime. Fury's quietly started a new initiative. Instead of this catch and release with powered people, we form a team. Take Earth's mightiest, find out if they're heroes."
"and you mention this because you want my help?"
She could have been there. Right alongside him. Maybe he would be alive if she had been there. If she had just dealt with her trauma better, she could have convinced him to let one of the actual heroes handle it. She quickly threw away that thought. Phil was an actual hero. He put the world before himself. If it meant that lives would be saved, Phil would actively put himself into harm's way. He was everything that SHIELD stood for, made obvious by the fact that Fury chose him as the liaison to help with the Avengers Initiative.
"I'm sorry for not being there."
••••
"Agent May." A familiar voice echoed through the stapling and shuffling of papers. Practically every head turned to stare at the intruder, Melinda included. "Director Fury wants to speak with you." And with that, Maria was out the door, Melinda following stiffly behind.
Her dress shoes made a soft noise as she followed a few paces behind Maria. She kept a steady breathing pattern as she walked, of course many thoughts of what this could be about crossed her mind. Another plea to go back in the field. News of another agent's passing. Teaching at the Academy. Every possibility ran through her mind as they approached the office.
Maria opened the door, holding it open as Melinda stepped in. She tugged at the bottom of her button up as she stood in front of the dark wood desk. She held her hands behind her back, the fingers on her right twisted the cold band on her left ring finger.
"Agent May."
"Director Fury." There was no tint of anything in her voice. No emotion. Just a clear voice. Fury threw down a file onto his desk and pointed at it.
"Read it." She took a half step forward and grabbed it. Written across the front was a large 'Classified: Level Ten'. She thought about arguing, throwing the file back down and reminding him she was only level seven. She quickly decided against it, knowing that he called her for a reason and wanted her to read it for a reason.
She opened it and quickly began reading. Her heartbeat quickened as she read it, slamming it shut and throwing it back on the desk.
"What the hell, Fury? Why did I need to know that?" She was trying not to raise her voice and show how truly angry she was. She didn't want to know any of that, she had no reason to.
"We've had a successful experiment." He threw down another file. She lifted it up again, the same clearance level was displayed on the front. She opened it before slamming it shut and dropping it on the floor.
"No."
"May-"
"He's dead."
"He was. Now he's not."
"Because you used alien DNA on him! Fury what the actual hell?" Her voice was shaking, her whole body was shaking. She held her hands to her side, both of them in tight fists.
"May it was successful. Phil is alive."
"You used experimental practices on him, switching his memories, putting alien DNA in him!" She repeated everything she had read from the file. Fury already knew these things, but she was too damn furious to even think about what was coming out of his mouth. "All the other test subjects exhibited terrible side effects days, weeks after."
"That's why we waited six months. We believed if we had more time we could fix the problems. And we did, he's fine."
Melinda scoffed. "Fine." She repeated the words with venom. Tears threatened to spill over, her thoughts were racing a mile a minute. Phil was alive. Her husband was alive. She should be happy, grateful even. Instead she was absolutely pissed off. Experiments like that should never be used on anyone and the idea of them being on her husband made her want to slap Fury across the face.
"I didn't give the orders to have it done. I would have been fine if this hadn't been done." Fury moved from behind the desk to stand right in front of Melinda. "Melinda-" A death glare from the mentioned woman quickly silenced him. "I'm sorry. I didn't want to keep this from you. I know what he means to you."
"What he means to me-" The venom lacing her previous words didn't falter. "He means everything to me, Nick." She hadn't even realized she let his first name slip from her mouth. "He's my husband. You let the one person I love more than anything go through what must have been literal hell just so SHIELD could have some scientific advancement. I can't believe you." This was more emotion than she had shown in months. Phil's funeral had been a slip of emotion, more tears than anyone had seen since before Bahrain. She had been seen angry, she could always be angry. Sad had been a hard one to unlock. Five years of stored up tears had escaped during Phil's funeral. Even after everyone had left, she was still there, crying. Maria had stayed with her until she was finally ready to go home. Her tears had dried up in the car and were to never be seen again. Happy was something she had only felt with her husband, so after he was gone, there was not much other than anger. Anger had rarely let itself slip, only once or twice. Yet here she was yelling at Nick Fury on the verge of crying.
"May I need you to form a team." Melinda just stared at him."Well, I need to make the parameters for a team. Phil wants to make his own team. He'll want you, which is what we want. You'll have to watch him."
"Why me? You could get any specialist. Any communications agent. Anybody but me. I haven't been in the field for almost six years, Fury."
"Because he trusts you. He'll always trust you. Even if he thinks he's been stuck in Tahiti for six months, and you know the truth, he'll trust you."
"And when he finds out? Don't try and tell me he won't find out, because he will. He finds out that I knew the entire time and he's going to hate me. I just got him back, Fury. I can't stand to lose him again."
"He'll understand." Fury sounded so confident, so sure of himself. That smug little smile that was painted on his face made Melinda seethe. She had to hold herself back from reaching up and slapping him. Instead she just shook her head and turned around, heading towards the door. He hadn't dismissed her, she didn't care. She was seconds away from kicking his ass and if she stayed in that room any longer, she would have.
"You'll have the team by tomorrow."
••••
She heard the soft patter of shoes on the floor, but refused to look up. She stapled three pieces of paper together before moving the newly formed packet to the side.
"Agent May." Workplace. This was the workplace. She couldn't be Melinda here.
"No." She didn't know why she was playing these games with him. She had to go with him. Fury ordered it.
"So you've been briefed." More than you know.
"I'm not going back in the field." She couldn't look him in the eye. He had been home for almost a week now and she still avoided eye contact. He slept in the guest bedroom and she fell asleep alone while they were at home.
"Yeah. You've got such a nice set up here. You ever thought about adding a mote?" When she had originally left the field, he would visit her downstairs and try to get her to decorate the cubicle. She had refused everytime. After he had died she taped a picture of him up that she kept hidden behind papers and boxes.
She looked up at him, into his blue eyes that carried her away the first day she met him. Her heart skipped a beat as she tried her best not to find the joke enjoyable.
"I just need you to drive the bus." She looked away. She had already seen the bus. She knew where the phone was. "Liaise ground transpo, some on-site supervision. This isn't a combat op."
Deny him. You have to sell it. Fury's voice rang through her head. "Then you don't need me."
"I do." She found that hard to believe. She failed him. More than once. She had failed him in Bahrain. She had failed him during the battle of New York. Hell, she was failing him now by continuing this act. "'cause we'll be running ourselves. Picking the ops, making the calls." Her eyes followed him as he walked. God she had missed him so much. She didn't understand why she was pushing herself away, she just was. That's what she always did. "No red tape. This is where they actually make the red tape, isn't it?"
She couldn't help the smile that broke out across her face. Phil had joked about her administration job so many times that when he does joke about it, it shouldn't be funny. Somehow it always is. Even if it's not funny, it brings a smile to her face. Especially now, because he's here and he's himself.
"Melinda." The almost intimate slip up made her raise her head to look at him once more. He had said her name when he was finally allowed back home, before they had hugged then parted ways.
"You're really just asking me to drive the bus?" That is all Phil is asking. Fury's asking more of her.
"I'm not asking." A smirk lay on his lips as he began walking away. "It's a really nice bus."
Before he was fully gone he leaned down, planting a soft kiss on her cheek and whispering a small, "I love you." Her eyes drifted close as his breath tickled her cheek. Once they reopened, he was gone and the smile was once again back on her face. PDA in the workplace was something they had often refrained from, so everytime they so much as brushed hands while working, a shiver ran down her spine.
"I love you, too."