philinda + 58
58. things you were afraid to say (a season one au set during TAHITI)
The impossibilities keep stacking up, but if there was one thing she was good at, it was avoiding what was staring her in the face.
She sits in the medbay, watching as Jemma fills another vial with her blood. Skye was fighting for her life, and the anger at the unfairness of it all makes Melinda want to punch something. Phil is across the way, waiting for Jemma to take his blood, and she can’t look at him. The devastation on his face lines her stomach, eating away at her.
“All done,” Jemma’s voice is soft, but her hands shake a little as she undoes the tie on Melinda’s bicep, taping a cotton ball to her elbow and having her hold her arm up for a few moments before she goes over to Phil, tying off his arm.
Melinda swallows hard as Phil places his palm on Jemma’s shoulder, calming the scientist- the natural ability to calm is something she knows would have made him a wonderful father, and the shame wells in her stomach again as sadness layers in her heart. She closes her eyes, thinking about going to check on Skye, but her legs don’t feel like moving, so she just leans back until her head is against the wall.
She listens to Jemma and Phil’s movements- she can hear when Jemma tells Phil she’s collected enough blood, and then there’s the whirl of the centrifuge and the clicking of keys on the keyboard as Jemma pulls something up. There’s silence, and then the scientist gives a gasp.
Melinda’s eyes fly open, and she looks at Jemma in concern, but the young woman is staring at her screen, disbelief in her eyes.
“That can’t be right,” she furiously begins to type, and the machine starts again, it’s whirl loud in the otherwise silent room. Phil looks at Melinda, frowning in concern, and she meets his gaze briefly before looking back at Jemma, who’s chewing on her lip and tapping her foot impatiently, entire body vibrating as she waited for the machine to finish.
It dings, and Jemma types, and she exhales sharply before she turns to look at them.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” she asks, looking between the two of them, and both their frowns deepen.
“Tell you what?” Phil asks, and Jemma swallows, straightening her shoulders.
“That Skye is your daughter,” she answers, and both their jaws drop before Phil shakes his head.
“We’ve never had a child,” he answers, and Melinda’s throat closes as panic settles in her chest. Slowly- so slowly they both almost don’t notice- she shakes her head, and Phil’s face slackens. “May?”
“We did have a child,” she whispers, and Phil flinches out of the corner of her eye. “But she died in the hospital, I saw her body.”
Jemma lets out a noise, but Melinda shuts her eyes against the wave of tears that burn, fists clenched until her nails dug into her palms.
“How could you keep that from me?” Phil’s voice is hoarse, and she opens wet eyes to look at him, chest tight.
“You were in Russia. Fury didn’t know when you’d be out of deep cover, and she died. How could I tell you about a child we’d lost?” she asks, a sob in her voice as tears slip down her cheeks. “It was enough grief to have her and hold her and then lose her in less than a day. I couldn’t- I couldn’t put you through that.”
“I came back and you were married,” his voice is broken, and she swallowed. “We weren’t partners again for nearly two years.”
“I couldn’t,” is all she can offer, and he looks away. “I was scared that if I saw you, I’d tell you everything, and I couldn’t break your heart.”
“You already had,” he whispers, and Melinda’s lip trembles as she drops her gaze to the floor.
“Well I don’t know how, but Skye is your daughter- she has half your DNA and half his, and it’s a perfect match,” Jemma tells them after a moment. “She needs to get to a hospital, but I can transfuse both of your blood samples to buy us some more time.”
They both nod blankly, unable to look at each other, and Jemma takes the samples and leaves the room. They both sit there, unable to move, until finally Phil speaks.
“What do we do now?” he asks, voice heavy, and she swallows, shrugging.
“I don’t know,” she whispers, finally lifting her gaze. “I never thought...”
Phil nods, shoulders jerking, and something shifts in her stomach- she slides off the medbay bed, and goes to stalk out of the room, but Phil’s voice stops her.
“Where are you going?” he asks, and her fists tighten as she answers, not turning around.
“To have a chat with Quinn.”
