A/N: Thanks for the feedback, it's much appreciated! This chapter takes place over S01E19 and S01E20 – May leaving and coming back.

Disclaimer: Agents of SHIELD and all affiliated characters belong to Marvel, those brilliant bastards.

Chapter 4: Buried

May gazed rigidly out the window as they whizzed down the long, deserted roads, avoiding eye contact. Her mother was one of barely a handful of people who could decipher her emotions, but May couldn't face discussing them now. Particularly since her mother's brand of intuition was rather more cutting than, say, Phil's.

She was in turmoil, stunned by the events of the last few days. Destroyed by the loss of the friendship of the person who meant the most to her. After so long of trying to push him away, she had finally found the one way she could have succeeded. Except this time, she only wanted him back.

And she would do it. She would find him his answers and prove to him that she was on his side. And if, after that, he still couldn't forgive her, well … that was a punishment she would have to learn to live with, although the prospect filled her with cold horror. As such, she remained fixated on her goal and ignored the possibility of failure.

"And how's Phillip?"

Taken by surprise, May said, "He's -" before managing to check herself.

"Coulson's dead, Mom," she amended, although she knew it was probably too late.

Her mother looked amused.

"Do you really think I don't know that Fury brought him back?" she asked. "Do you think me so out of the loop, Melinda?"

May hadn't spoken much to her mother since returning to the field, only reporting that she had and that further details were classified. But it wasn't impossible that she had found out about Coulson; she and Fury had been friendly for many years, something that May had always found somewhat discomfiting.

"Fury's dead, too," May said, trying to change the subject. "I assume you heard."

Her mother gave a snort, but said nothing. May eyed her for a few seconds and reflected that it seemed those who knew Fury best were all of the opinion that he was still out there.

Comforted by the thought, and suddenly feeling a sort of camaraderie with her mother in the face of the uncertainty she was facing in all other areas of her life, May found herself asking, somewhat resignedly, "How did you know? About Coulson?"

Her mother's eyebrows shot up.

"From you, of course."

May stared at her.

"I never said -"

"No," said her mother in an irritatingly patronising tone that immediately reverted May back to annoyance. "But I know you, how stubborn you are. The only way you would have gone back into the field was for him."

May rolled her eyes and turned away, as usual thoroughly infuriated by her mother's insight into her feelings.

"Am I wrong?" said her mother, still aggravatingly amused. May said nothing. "So, I called Fury and asked him."

May let out a breath of utter disbelief.

"And he just told you?" she demanded.

"Of course, why wouldn't he?"

May shook her head and didn't bother trying to point out that the vast majority of SHIELD thought Coulson dead, including the Avengers, and that the rest of the intelligence community had been expressly kept in the dark. Her mother had always had an easy air of entitlement about confidential information and, as long as May had known her, had never felt that there was a good reason why she shouldn't know something.

They drove in silence for another mile or so, and then her mother said, "So? How is he?"

"Fine," said May, a little tightly. And then, worried her mother might sense the nature of her strained relationship with him, she added, "Rattled, with everything that's happened. But otherwise, fine."

"And where is he now?"

The audacity of such a question was too much.

"Sure, how about I give you his precise co-ordinates?" she snapped. "Or implant him with a tracking device for you?"

"I only meant that I notice he's not with you, Melinda," her mother retorted, nettled. "I assumed he might be."

"Yeah, well, I'm looking for information for him," said May coldly. "We do function as independent entities, you know."

"Not often," her mother muttered, and May glared at her.

They had had arguments about Phil more than once in the past. Her mother had always felt him a threat to her relationship with Andrew, warning her to be careful. I can see how much he means to you, Melinda. Just be sure that Andrew stays your priority. This, of course, had enraged May every time it came up, and was the source of many of their worst arguments.

It wasn't that her mother disliked Phil. Quite the contrary, she, like pretty much everyone, was thoroughly charmed by him. A good man. We're not all so lucky as to have partners like that.

But she knew the reason May had chosen to marry someone outside of SHIELD was that she had wanted a family, something borderline impossible between two field agents. Her mother supported this, having made a similar decision when marrying May's father. But her job had, in the end, ruined her marriage and as such she had become overly concerned about the same thing happening to May.

"What's that supposed to mean?" May demanded now. It was probably a bit unwise, but May's nerves were frayed, and she suddenly welcomed the thought of a proper argument, a release for her tension.

Infuriatingly, her mother said nothing.

"Is this some kind of I-told-you-so thing?" May pushed, her voice rising slightly. "About Andrew?"

Her mother rolled her eyes.

"Why so sensitive?" she asked, also annoyed. "I didn't mean anything by it."

May was fuming.

"It's not because of Phil that Andrew and I split, you know," she said, her voice shaking.

"I know that."

"If anything, Phil tried to keep us together, he -"

"You always deliberately misunderstand me," said her mother loudly, talking over her. "I have never said I thought Phillip was looking to ruin your marriage in that way. Of course he wasn't. I know he has always been a good friend to you."

Remembering suddenly that that might not be true anymore, May felt her stomach drop down a few inches. She barely heard what her mother said next.

"I was worried that you didn't have your priorities straight, something you always chose to ignore."

May, who was now wondering how she could have ruined a friendship that had survived almost three decades in the face of extreme pressures, including a fair few encounters with Lian May, didn't bother responding.

"But I like Phillip, you know that, and I'm grateful to him. He has always had your back and he helped you in ways nobody else could have."

May's rage had dissipated as quickly as it had come and suddenly, to her horror, tears sprang to her eyes. She looked out her window quickly, but there was no point trying to hide them. God, talking to her mother was always a mistake. This conversation was doing nothing to help her and everything to remind her of what she would lose if she lost Phil.

"Melinda?"

Her mother sounded both surprised and worried. May had never cried in response to a disagreement with her before.

"I don't want to talk about this anymore," she said, as firmly as she could while fighting tears.

There was a strained silence.

"I'm sorry," said her mother, and this was so unexpected, so unprecedented, that May actually turned to stare at her, despite the moisture still in her eyes. Her mother shrugged and said, with exaggerated composure, "I don't want to reopen old wounds. I can see you are struggling with new ones."

May let out a sigh and they sat in silence for another ten minutes. While this might be some kind of record in restraint for her mother, her unasked question dominated the small space in the car until May felt it was suffocating her.

"I made a mistake," she finally confessed. "And he's sent me away."

Her mother looked hard at her.

"That must have been a big mistake," she commented unhelpfully. "To push him so far?"

Gritting her teeth and regretting, for the umpteenth time, confiding in her mother, May said, "It was."

"I assume this … information you're looking for, is a way of making things right?"

May nodded, staring out the window again.

"If it's enough."

"Well it had better be," said Lian May firmly. "I haven't forgiven you for leaving Andrew, and I certainly won't forgive you for losing Phillip."

May, who ordinarily would have reverted straight back into a towering rage in response to this, felt only deep sadness.

"Me neither."

x x x

Fighting the nervous dread in her stomach, May slipped into his dark room at the motel, hoping to avoid the rest of the team for the moment. She had to speak to him first, to show him what she had found. And then she would find out whether she would be allowed to stay.

Whether he would want her to stay.

Hearing about Ward from Hill had been an odd experience, an intense twisting knot of horror and fury in her chest that was mostly dominated by an even greater sense of urgency to get back to Coulson. She didn't know how he might be feeling about her after everything, but she did know that she should be there for him, now more than ever. Even if he didn't want her to be. Even if he no longer thought of her as someone he could trust, as a friend.

The point was that, even if he felt that way, she knew he was wrong. And if he allowed her to stay, if only as an ally, then she would do it for him. Because she, at least, knew he could trust her.

Of course, there was always the possibility that Ward's betrayal would have made him even more angry, less tolerant of lies, maybe even less trusting of her. That he would tell her to leave again and never come back. But the thought of this possibility was too painful, so she firmly tucked it away and waited, trying to rehearse what she would say to him. How she might, once again, beg for his forgiveness.

When he finally opened the door and stepped into the room, her heart leaped with nerves, afraid of how he might look at her, afraid of the anger and disgust she had seen in his eyes when he had looked at her before. A look she wouldn't soon forget.

He paused at the sight of her, the door clicking shut softly behind him.

And in that long moment, as they stared at each other, she knew that it would be all right. He took a few steps forward, remorse etched into every line on his face.

"I was … hoping you'd come back," he said quietly.

There was another pause as she felt the tension ease out of her muscles as intense relief washed through her body.

Before she had a chance to say anything, he began, "Ward is -"

"I know," she said quickly, not wanting him to have to say it. "Hill told me."

She felt her heart ache at the sight of his tortured expression as he gave a tight nod. She knew he blamed himself. But she didn't have time to talk about that now, and she walked forward as well, coming to a stop in front of him.

"There's something you need to see," she told him earnestly, determined not to discuss anything until he had seen what she had found.

Once she had opened the laptop and started playing the video, she didn't look away from him as he watched it.

She had no idea how the news may affect him, how it may even affect his decision to forgive her. It had occurred to her, as she had watched in shock in her hired car, that this may very well trigger more anger directed towards her. While she hadn't known about this, had she not kept the truth about TAHITI from him, he may have had the chance to find out this detail earlier, to discuss the matter with Fury before Fury's supposed death.

He, however, simply sat in stunned silence as he watched, and then for several long seconds after the video had ended.

"Huh," was all he seemed to manage.

She continued to watch him, a bit nervous, but he just continued to sit there, frozen.

After another minute of this, she decided to take matters into her own hands and reached over to shut the screen. He seemed startled out of a reverie, and he turned to stare at her.

"How did you find this?" he asked her, dazed.

"I dug up your grave," she said shortly. "Are you okay?"

He got to his feet and rubbed his eyes as he turned to face her properly.

"I don't know."

"At least we know you're not Hydra," she said, trying for some flippancy. "That's encouraging."

He dropped his hand from his eyes and gave her a tiny smirk.

"So comforting to know you had your doubts."

But he was teasing her, and her immense joy and relief crashed dramatically with a great well of repressed hurt and misery, and she gave a watery laugh as her eyes filled with tears again. She wished she wouldn't keep crying in front of people.

His expression sobered into one of concern and regret.

"I'm so sorry, May," he said quietly, taking a step closer. "For everything I said to you. I was way out of line."

"No," she said softly, swallowing back the lump in her throat. "I should never have lied to you."

"You were looking out for me," he said. "As always."

"Not always," she muttered bitterly. "Not when it mattered."

There was a beat as he stared at her, looking faintly confused. She turned away, wishing those words hadn't slipped out, and also wishing he was the kind of person who would let it go.

He wasn't.

"What do you mean?"

"Forget it."

"May …"

Helplessly, she returned her gaze to his as she watched comprehension dawn slowly over his features. He shook his head slightly as he stared at her, his eyes filled with empathy.

"No, don't blame -"

"I should have been there," she said through a clenched jaw. "I'm supposed to have your back, I -"

"Loki is basically a god, Melinda," said Phil firmly. "No-one could have stopped him. Even Thor -"

"I would have stopped him," she said, her voice cold and certain. She knew, somehow - even if the rest of the world doubted it, even if they said it was impossible – she knew that she would have prevented his death had she been there.

"I would never have let you face him alone," she continued now, glaring at him, daring him to contradict her. "I would never have let you die."

He responded with a gentle smile, eyes filled with affection.

"I'm so glad you came back," he said and reached over to squeeze her wrist.

The gesture took her slightly by surprise, and she felt her expression soften into one of matching affection.

"Thank you for forgiving me," she said, her voice barely above a whisper, struggling to get the words out past her emotion.

He shook his head again, but she pressed on, wanting to say what she had been rehearsing before.

"I know I betrayed your trust. We don't lie to each other. That's not what we do." She paused here to steady her breath. "I promise you, it'll never happen again."

"I know," he said kindly. "And I promise never to doubt your friendship again."

Taken aback, she blinked at him.

"That's not what we do, either," he said, his smile tinged with sadness.

She let out a breath through her nose and twisted her hand in his so that she could squeeze his wrist as well. It was all okay now, she thought to herself as they smiled at each other. There was nothing else that needed to be said. She felt the warm familiarity of their trusting companionship reform gently between them and felt happier to be back with him, out in the field, than she ever had before.

"So," he said after several long moments, "will you be sleeping here? I don't have another room for you."

"Sure," she said, letting go of his hand, suddenly unable to stop smiling. "If that's okay."

"Of course," he said. "I'll just go and change in the bathroom."

They had shared hotel rooms and beds countless times during their years working together, so it felt as natural as anything to get ready for sleep while he caught her up on everything that had happened since she had left.

"Sounds like I missed out on all the fun," she observed, settling in to her side of the bed while Coulson dug around, looking for his phone charger. "If I'd hung around a little bit longer -"

"Ward probably would have killed you," Coulson finished grimly. "So, all in all, I'm glad you weren't around for that part. As unfun as it was to come back and discover you were gone. Where did you go anyway? Did you walk?"

"For a while," she said. "Then my mom picked me up. She says hi, by the way. She's pleased you're still alive and pissed with me for upsetting you."

Phil looked amused, but his eyes were tinged with warmth. Like Andrew, he got on far better with her mother than she did.

"Sounds like a fun car ride," he said, finally producing his charger.

"Oh, it was a blast," she said coolly. "We really could have used a buffer."

"Hm, well I'll have you know it's no picnic for the buffer, being caught between two Agent Mays."

He gave her a cheerful grin and disappeared back into the bathroom to brush his teeth.

She chuckled and lay down, facing the window and closing her eyes, looking forward to a proper night's sleep. Her first one in some time. She was exhausted. She felt Phil lift the covers on his side of the bed and climb in beside her. He switched off the lights and she felt herself begin to drift off.

"Wait a second," came Phil's voice suddenly. "Did you say you dug up my grave?"

x x x

tbc

A/N: I'm going to expose my obsessive side here a little. I always try as hard as I can to keep my characters as in character as possible. OOC fics are a pet peeve of mine. So, I was worried that maybe them sharing a bed in the end may seem a bit ooc, but the more I thought about it, the more convinced I was that it would make less sense if they didn't. They have little to no funds for extra rooms, and who else would May share with? Skye and Simmons? Somehow, I just don't see that, not at this point in the series. I just feel like she and Coulson would have so much experience with this sort of thing that they'd barely even think about it. Anyway, I'll stop defending myself over such a silly detail now, and just say thank you so much for reading!

Also, I want more Mama May in the series!