in between the silence
Fandom: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Characters: Melinda May, Phil Coulson, Lance Hunter, mentioned: Andrew Garner
Pairing: Melinda May/Phil Coulson, some Melinda May/Andrew Garner
Length: 800 words
Warnings: No Archive Warnings, tags to 3x07
Summary: Of all their silent conversations, this was the one that broke his heart the most.
She seemed so invincible. But just touch her and she’ll wince. She has secrets and trusts no one. She’s the perfect example of betrayal. Because anyone she’s ever trusted broke her.
She hadn’t moved since the doctors had begun working on Andrew. He watched her from the other side of the glass, breathing evenly as she watched the surgeons, covered in blood, operate on her ex-husband.
He hadn’t seen her in months.
He had sent agents, dozens of them, trying to find her. After Andrew had returned from Maui without her, he had been searching for her. Never found her, of course. No one could find Melinda May unless she wanted to be found.
But he couldn’t stop looking.
And when she had appeared just the other week, she was suddenly there and suddenly gone. It was so fast, meaningless, cold almost and he didn’t even have a chance to say what he wanted to. His pre-planned apologies.
His arguments.
His anger.
And there she was, standing across the room and he couldn’t make force himself to walk towards her. It was minutes before his heavy footsteps made it across the hallway and into the large open, hospital room. He could clearly see her reaction to his sudden presence. Her body tensed, muscles almost indistinctively rippling into fight or flight mode.
He was interrupting her vigil and he didn’t know what to say to comfort her.
He slid down on the wall next to her. His back protesting at the movement as his shoulder brushed against hers. Melinda’s body enclosed on itself slightly, making her smaller, less of a target and he pretended not to notice.
Neither of them spoke for the longest time and the only sound was the beeping of Andrew’s heart rate monitor.
“You two have the same face.” His voice was course, scratchy as he sat down next to her. Melinda’s dark eyes lingered on Andrew’s form a moment longer before turning towards Phil. “Granted you had been shot and tortured at the time, not unconscious.”
Please look at me.
Her face didn’t change at the tone of his joke and he internally sighed. The time apart hadn’t lessened the feelings of hurt she had left with. “I looked for you,” he broached gently.
“Here I am.”
Her voice was soft, barely there. It reminded him of the time after Bahrain when each syllable he and Andrew and Maria pulled out of her was a hard fought victory.
You knew where I was. You just never came.
He swallowed hard before speaking again.
“Are … are you staying?”
“No.”
I can’t.
The single word was a sharp shard through his heart. He knew that he had left things with his best friend, unfinished, broken, but he’d never had imagined that she’s leave on vacation and never return. She had always come back. Even after Bahrain. Even after her string of failed suicide missions. Her divorce with Andrew. She always came back. Except this time. He struggled to respond.
“I called…”
You never answered.
“You sent agents to tail me,” she corrected with a sigh. God, she sounded exhausted. “To try and convince me to come back to base. Level Three agents, no less.”
You should have come yourself.
“I got rid of the levels,” he said immediately, the sentence rolling off his tongue before he could reel it back in.
Please forgive me.
Melinda lifted her eyes to meet his for a moment and he could the coldness sliding between them. Sizing her up, she looked smaller, thinner than he had last seen her. There were growing black circles under her eyes that had been just as dark as she when she had left.
What have you been up to May?
“Melinda?”
There was a deep groan that had May on her feet before Coulson could even respond. She moved to the side of Andrew’s hospital bed. He was covered in layers of bandages, sheets and contrasted to his dark skin. His suit was thrown haphazardly over one of the chairs.
Judging by Melinda’s anguish, he would have believed that the good doctor was dying, when he knew differently. Just a broken hip. A few scratches. Potential concussion.
It’s going to be okay.
I hope.
He couldn’t hear the whispered words they shared. He couldn’t find it in himself to not be jealous. It was Andrew. It had always been Andrew, from the very start. He knew that of course, but as the Professor fade back out of consciousness, May glanced once over her shoulder.
He hadn’t moved, a quiet presence, unwavering. The look in her eyes made him want to cry, the pain was tangible and he could feel it in the air.
Oh, Melinda, please don’t go.