May's perspective

Melinda lay in her apartment, half on the bed, half on the floor. She had not left her room in days and the only person allowed in was Phil. Phil Coulson. She didn't deserve him. He visited her, bringing food, gifts, and happiness into her apartment but she didn't want that. She wanted to punish herself, to lock herself in and never come out but it was gradually getting harder. No-one else understood. She didn't deserve any of this. They didn't know what she had done. She had shot a child. Not accidentally, no. She had aimed at the girl and pulled the trigger. If other people knew this, then maybe they would understand, but she was too afraid to tell them. For them to lose the hope for her that she had already lost in herself. It was a day she had been dreading and postponing for weeks. Melinda had to go to the office to pick up transfer forms. She wanted transfer from field work to admin, but she couldn't ask Phil to pick them up for her. He didn't know. He couldn't know. He would try to persuade him out of it when she had already made the decision. She couldn't be responsible for the loss of anymore lives.

Coulson's perspective

Phil was driving towards May's apartment. He was worried about her and confused. He loved her more than anything, but she didn't know that. After Bahrain, she had divorced Andrew without even meeting with him in person, locked herself in her apartment and not let anyone in, Except him, why? He brought her food and stayed with her for several hours. Mostly in complete silence, but not her normal relaxing silence. She was always quiet, but she had lost herself in there, and he had no idea what happened. How could he help her if he didn't even know what extinguished her flame? He knew he would have to ask her, but could he cope if the question meant eternal banishment from her life. Would she cast him out if he asked her what happened? He couldn't go on like this. He had to ask her. She was in pain, ever increasing pain and he couldn't bare to see her like this any longer. Just as he was thinking this, he pulled Lola into the parking lot. He could have flown her in, but he opted for the more discreet mode of transport. He stepped into the elevator, floor 18- It was like she was trying to drive people away. Floor 18? What if the elevator stopped working? That's a lot of stairs? Then again, she is a specialist, she probably climbs them for fun, he laughed to himself.

Phil walked straight into Melinda's apartment. She was one of shields best and she had left the door open? Her apartment was in its new usual state- dark and messy. It used to be spotless and welcoming, but everything had changed. She sat in the middle of her bedroom, barely acknowledging his appearance. If it was possible, she seemed even more distant and distressed than normal. She was unresponsive, which made him panic. Although uninjured physically, she would be forever mentally scarred. Slowly, he sat down next to her gripped her hand. She adjusted her position slightly and gripped his hand back. A rush of relief flooded through him but it was short lived when he realised that his standards for her progress had deteriorated down to moving her hand. He helped her off the floor, and onto the couch. Why had she been on the floor in the first place, he wondered. He had been planning to ask her today, what went down in that building? But after seeing her like this, he couldn't bring himself to ask. She needed his help, whether she wanted it or not. He wasn't about to ruin that because of his curiosity.

May's perspective

She felt terrible. She was a lost cause. Anyone could see that, but he kept coming. He had a future at shield, a very successful one too. Just because hers was ruined, shouldn't mean that his is ruined as well. She knew that Fury would side with her- not that she could cope with leaving her apartment for long enough to arrange a meeting with fury and discuss the matter. She hated herself for that relief, that hope that she experienced when he visited. That feeling that everything would be ok. She knew that it couldn't be ok, she didn't deserve it to be ok. She also knew that she couldn't live like this, -completely reliant on others to survive. That's how she had come to the internal compromise that she would transfer to Admin. She would get to sit in solitude, while Phil could live his life. She was determined not to ruin his life. He sat there patiently, with her, always looking like he had something to ask, but way too afraid to ask. Melinda knew the question of course. What happened in Bahrain? It was engraved into the front of her memory. She could never forget it and he deserved the answer.

"I killed the girl," she whispered.

Coulson looked confused at this.

"The girl in Bahrain, I killed her."

Before she finished the last phrase, heavy tears started to run down her face. She couldn't help it. How could she be doing this. She didn't deserve his sympathy.

Coulson's perspective

Guilt pierced his stomach. Was it so plainly obvious that he had wanted to know? It would be a long time before he forgave himself for making Melinda May cry. She had never cried in front of anyone. Ever. Not when she had been shot, or lost someone, or killed someone. Never. He pulled her into a hug, and she buried her head in his shoulder. Tears continued to flood her eyes and drip onto his shoulder and her smooth dark hair fell in a perfect sheet down her back.

Coulson had no idea how long he had been there but by the time she released him, orange sunset was spilling through the crack in the blinds. He left the apartment and carefully locked the door, before heading down the 18-storey elevator towards the parking lot. On reaching Lola, he discovered that he left his keys at Melinda's apartment. Groaning, he headed back up to the apartment, cursing the elevator for being so long. He let himself, to discover her sleeping on the couch peacefully and the keys resting on the table. Quietly, he picked up his keys, brushed a strand of hair out of her face and locked the door, before facing the elevator again. It had been a long time since he had seen her sleeping without tossing and turning from nightmares. Maybe he had helped her. Maybe she had needed to talk about it.