Chapter Text
Melinda May jolts up abruptly; a dying scream imprinted on her parted lips. The walls of the warehouse fit into place, and suddenly the putrid smell of blood fills her nose.
She’s in Bahrain. The woman with superhuman strength must’ve knocked her out.
***
It’s instinctive, almost like she’s going through the patterns:
The two men advance, she fumbles to grab the lamp.
One of the men move to attack, and she swings the lamp at him, knocking him down.
She moves to attack the other man,
He shoots,
She screams, feeling the bullet tunnel into her flesh,
She knocks him down.
Then there’s the woman.
She moves to attack her with the pole but with one giant sweep the woman twists the pole and flips her onto the ground.
She’s on her knees now, feeling the blood slowly dripping down her shins and onto the floor.
The woman moves to attack her but this time, she’s holding her arms out. Was this how she managed to indoctrinate everyone?
Not. Today. Not. Her. She drives the pole deep into her abdomen and watches the woman fall.
There’s a silence; a cruel silence that hangs heavy in the air.
Then she sees a young girl. Perhaps she was just a bystander who accidentally wandered in? No. May’s smart enough to know that working with SHIELD, there are never such chance circumstances.
“You killed mother.” Says the girl.
For a second, May sees it all. She sees the girl with the uncontrollable control of emotions; sees her hands collide with the blunt of the gun; sees herself aim the gun with shaking fingers. She doesn’t miss the target.
And then she blinks and the hallucination is gone. All that’s left is a small girl trembling next to her and when she reaches to embrace the girl in a hug, nothing happens. And as she sits on the floor with the girl tucked into her arms, she’s suddenly washed with a feeling that she’s been here before, sat in this very place, holding the same girl.
After that, it’s a blur. The fallen agents in the next room rush out of the building, Phil Coulson rushes in and now she’s here, sitting on the edge of an ambulance, the girl safely tucked behind her, wrapped in blankets, protected from everything. It feels strange and it feels beautiful.
With fumbling fingers, she calls Andrew.
“I did it, I saved the girl.” She exclaims, barely able to contain her feelings from bubbling out.
She frowns. She went in and managed to take out an entire building of people, managing to save the entire SHIELD team that went in, and the girl was never in the line of fire. So why did the thought of the girl being alive make her heart feel like it was too big for her body?
There’s no time to think about it though, because at this moment Coulson walks towards her again and pulls her into a hug.
“I did it, I saved the girl.” She repeats, chanting it like a mantra into the crook of Phil’s neck.
If this is her happy ending, she’ll take it.
***
God, she’s missed this- Tucked deeply into Andrew’s arms as they drift asleep. Would she sound completely delusional if she said it felt like an eternity ago they were like this?
She shifts closer to him, trying to drown out the thoughts. She did everything she was supposed to right? In another universe she might have been able to save the mother as well but in another universe she might have not been able to save the girl, or save herself so this was good, right? Yes. This was good. It had to be.
***
Walking into the SHIELD briefing room the next day, she is greeted by a hush. For a second, her vision blurs and she feels the weight of everyone’s judgement weighing down on her, feels everyone’s fear of her, feels the curious whispers about her ordeal. But then her vision clears again and she sees that while there isn’t a room full of thunderous applause, there’s a room of silent respect.
Feelings of enormous relief wash over her body, so why does she feel that this respect isn’t for her?
It’s too perfect. The smooth mission, Phil, Andrew, SHIELD, all of it it’s…too good for her. Sure, the mission could be just another mission in her ledger of successes that was the reason she was still alive and breathing, but something about this just seemed like it was doomed to be a failure, like it was a constant in space-time that couldn’t be changed.
“Melinda” A voice calls out from the crowd, and from it emerges Phil Coulson.
“Did I mention how glad I was you’re alive?” He says, smiling as he approaches her, the crowd slowly dissipating into the background. This doesn’t feel real. In a real world, Phil Coulson would never be staring at her like she just lit up the dark in him. This wasn't real. This wasn't real this wasn't real this wasn-
She takes a step forward and places her hands on the back of his neck, tilting her head, and presses her lips onto his. The caress of his lips is rough against her chapped lips but when his hands shift into her hair his tongue traces over her lips and her eyes close in pleasure. When she breaks it off she feels the absence of his steady heart, feelings the absence of the warmth of his breath. This Phil moves forward to kiss her again.
She pulls out the gun from her holster, cocks it and presses it to his temple. Tears are streaming down her face freely now, but this Phil only seems confused.
She pulls the trigger. In the perfect simulation, Phil Coulson would go after her with passionate abandon. The real Phil Coulson wouldn’t.
The world around her disintegrates into a myriad of pixels, and then fades to black.
***
Melinda May jolts up abruptly; a dying scream imprinted on her parted lips. The walls of the warehouse fit into place, and suddenly the putrid smell of blood fills her nose.
She’s in Bahrain. The woman with superhuman strength must’ve knocked her out.