A/N: Hello everyone! So, just a heads up, I might not be updating the story in a day-to-day basis starting next week since I'll be going back to university again for the new term. I'll try my best to update once a week! But for the meantime, here goes the update!

Melinda walks back home directly after the funeral. She knows she shouldn't have. She could've stayed with Natasha or Maria, took up their offers so she wouldn't feel alone, so she could share this grief with someone else. But she doesn't want to. She wants to wallow up in the guilt and grief and anger that Phil; her Phil is gone. He is nothing but a treasured memory.

Once she reaches her apartment door, she unlocks it and enters quickly, closing the door behind her as she leans back, letting her bag, wet umbrella and the box Audrey gave her drop on the floor. She allows herself to cry, feeling the painful aching in her heart and letting it consume the rest of her body. She slides down the door and ends up on the floor, her knees tucked closer to her chest as she cries, whispering Phil's name over and over again.

At some point, and she felt it was after an hour of crying and weeping, she reached to the box and held it close. She sets it down her lap, and contemplates whether or not to open it. The box is tied with a black ribbon, elegantly knotted. Melinda knows this is something Phil would indeed do. She unties the ribbon and takes the lid off, revealing, indeed, folded yellow and white papers and pictures.

She takes the stack of pictures in the box. There is a picture of their graduation at the Academy, where Phil was carrying Melinda bridal style, with grins plastered on their faces. Melinda smiles at the picture. She has an exact same copy of that picture by her nightstand.

There is a picture of them in their vacation in Budapest, and a picture of Melinda in Hawaii. She flips the picture of herself and at the back of the picture, it says, "The love of my life" with a small heart after it. Melinda closes her eyes and leans her head back on the door, letting out a sigh. She proceeds to look at more pictures in the stack. There are more pictures of her and the two of them together.

The last photo of the stack is a picture of their baby girl, lying on a pink blanket the day she was born. Melinda could still remember every detail of her baby girl's face, but of course twenty-five years have passed and now would have been a lot different. She doesn't remember Phil taking a picture of their baby girl, but it's not like she could ask. She flips the photo and at the back of the photo, writes, "Daisy Louise May Coulson". Melinda puts the photo aside as she puts the stack back to the box.

She then proceeds with the letters in the box. She takes the one in the bottom of the stack. The letter is written on a yellow pad paper. She unfolds it and starts reading:

07/02/03

To my Daisy,

Happy birthday. It's been 15 years since you were born, and 15 years since your mother and I lost you. It's also been 15 years since we started looking for you. We never gave up, and we never will.

I've always wondered how we lost you. Your mother and I work in an organization specializing in these kinds of cases and usually we win, we succeed, but this time it didn't. Maybe it was too personal for us to dig deep, too painful for us to cross roads and boundaries to come looking. S.H.I.E.L.D. has given up on the lookout for you, and I remember it well when they decided to announce you dead. Your mother refused. I remember the fire in her eyes when she refused to let Director Fury announce you dead. I remember the fight she was willing to put to make the others believe that you are not dead, but alive, just missing.

I must admit that sometimes, it's hard to believe that you can still be alive.

Did we miss something? Did your mother and I miss a single detail that led us to not finding you? Have we ever seen you somewhere, in the park or in a playground when you were little but we just couldn't recognize you because you could have looked different the last time we saw you, and that was on the day you were born? You were small, pink and wrinkly, but to my eyes, you were the most beautiful baby girl I have ever seen.

Daisy, I must be honest with you. Every time I look at your mother, I remember you. You both have the same eyes. Those chocolate brown eyes that captivated me when I first saw your mother. It hurts every time I see her. I see the pain in her eyes when you were taken away from us, and I see the burning fire in her eyes that fuels her determination to search the whole world for you. I see the love in her eyes; love not for me, but for her husband, Andrew. I can't help but get hurt because she shouldn't have the pain in her eyes, and burning fire that wants to take everyone down in her way just to find you, and that love for someone else but me.

What have I done wrong?

I love your mother, baby girl. I love Melinda with all my heart. What do you think I should do? You would probably think of your old man as cheesy, but I hope you feel this too; this love for someone you know is right for you. When you do, Daisy, do me a favour and don't let go of this person. Never, or you lose the person, like the way I lost your mother and the way I lost you.

Someday, Daisy, I will see you. Before I breathe my last breath, I will find you and I will embrace you and welcome you home.

I love you and I miss you, Daisy. Come home.

Dad

Melinda could not contain the tears any longer as she puts down the letter and cries again. She wants to tell Phil she loves him. She loves him with everything she has and she's sorry it's too late to say it. She could never hear his voice again, never see him smile or laugh. For more, he never got to see his daughter before he died. He never got to find her. Neither of them did.

For hours of this day, Melinda had only thought of Phil's death as something surreal now. He is dead. He is gone. He is never coming back. The love of her life is gone forever.

Her thoughts are interrupted by a knock on the door. She sniffed and groaned. "Go away." she says weakly, not even willing herself to stand up.

"I don't think that's an option, Agent May." she hears Fury's muffled voice on the other side of the door. She sighs. She doesn't have the will to stand. She couldn't.

"Open the damn door, sir." Melinda responds, not moving an inch from her original position.

"I would, but you're blocking it." Fury says. Melinda rolls her eyes weakly and pushes herself away from the pathway. Once clear, Fury opens the door and stares at Melinda who is sitting on the floor, with Phil's unsent letters scattered around her.

"You have got to be kidding me, May." Fury mutters under his breath as he kneels down to level with Melinda who looks at him sadly. "Get yourself together, I have good news."

"Good news?" Melinda scoffs. "Is Phil dying some good news to you, sir? If so then don't worry, I got the memo."

Fury balls his fist and rolls his eyes. He understands Melinda, he really does, but grief strikes her so badly. She's hurting, and he gets it.

He couldn't think of any other way to say it. "I have a way on how to make Phil live again."