#plechka

She couldn’t sleep, hadn’t for a while now. So, she spent her nights working out. Push ups, training her falls, Thai chi. When she got so exhausted that her thoughts went quiet, she went back into bed and slept for two or three hours. Then, the alarm went off and she woke up, took a shower, got dressed and had a cup of tea. After she’d had a couple of sips, she usually was needed by someone. Then that didn’t stop for 17 hours. When Phil, at the end of the night, came up to her and touched her and in a gentle voice told her to go to sleep, she went to her room and changed into her workout clothes. The same process started over, and started over, over and over again. And he kept asking for her, kept looking for her, kept wanting to find her. And he touched her, he smiled at her, he told her to get some sleep with concerned eyes and a gentle voice. Over, and over, and over again.

Until he stopped. 

She saw him going to Fitzsimmons, sharing thoughts and ideas. She saw him joking around with Daisy, asking her for help when he needed it. She saw him step up as the leader he was supposed to be, once again, being the rock everyone needed. And she was happy. He was in his element again. This was who he was supposed to be. He’d always been there for everyone who needed him, not just for her. He’d never been only hers. He’d never been hers, period. 

That realization wasn’t new or unfamiliar. Still, she waited for a knock at her door every night, and when it didn’t come, she went down to the gym, put on gloves and punched, punched, punched, until the only hurt she could feel was in her knuckles. 

He was there for everyone now. Except her. The kids needed him, she knew that. She needed him, too, but she could cope. And he wasn’t hers to have.

Her heart bled when his smiles became less frequent, when his hand didn’t discreetly move under the table at meetings to secretly grace hers. She clenched her teeth and she moved on. He wasn’t hers to have. Never had been.

She was coming back from the gym, her knuckles almost bleeding, when she noticed from the hallway that her bedroom door was slightly ajar. Her whole body became tense and she mapped out the fastest way to the gun in her bedside drawer.

When she opened the door to look inside, she took a breath. 

He was sitting there, on her bed, in his grey pants and a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. He’d been hunched over, his hands folded under his chin. As she closed the door behind her, he looked up. 

“Melinda…”

His voice was raspy and breathless and her chest felt tight.

She went to the dresser and opened the doors, pretending to look for something. She needed to have her back to him right now.

“What are you doing here, Coulson?” Her voice was cold and ruthless.

She could feel his confusion and hurt in her back. “I… I wanted to see you, I’m sorry…”

She stopped. She stared at her black pants, piled up high, and she desperately tried to swallow her tears. She took out her leather-jacket to have something to do. “You don’t have to check up on me, you know.” She turned to him, clutching the jacket in her arms. “You have a lot on your mind.” She hugged her arms around her ever tighter. “You don’t need any more obligations on that long list of yours.”

His eyebrows scrunched up. “You’re not an obligation.” He put down his hands on the bed, sitting up straighter. “You’re a priority.”

She resisted the temptation to roll her eyes. “You don’t have to-”

He stood up. “I know.” He walked closer, his eyes searching hers and they were so gentle, so affectionate, so soft, she couldn’t… “I do it because I want to.”

He was so close now, she felt his breath on her face. She herself couldn’t breathe. 

He shook his head. “No, that’s not right.” He licked his lips and swallowed. “I do it because I need to.”

Her heart hammered in her chest and his eyes were so blue and she couldn’t look away. 

“I know I’m making you uncomfortable and I’m sorry, I’m trying to be better, I just needed to see you, just for a second, to make sure that you’re still…” He sighed and glanced down at his feet. “I’m sorry.” He smiled a sad smile that made the tears in her eyes spill over. “I’ll go.”

He began to turn away from her, and was almost at the door, when she realized what he’d said. 

“Stop.”

He did. He turned back to her, but avoided her eyes.

He bit his lip. “I’m sorry-”

“Stop saying that.”

He looked up at her harsh tone. 

She crossed her arms, her body becoming tense again. “You didn’t seem to need me for this past week.”

His eyes were questioning and bewildered as they looked at her. “I gave you space, I put your needs before mine, I-”

She scoffed. “My needs?” She shook her head. “You think my needs are to be ignored by you, while you’re oh so supportive with and invested in literally everyone else, I mean I saw you talk to Piper about her new shoes for god’s sake, what the hell was that-”

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Of course she fucking was.

She glared at him. “Screw you.”

He shook his head, a smirk breaking out. “No, no, you are.”

Screw him.

“Did you come here just to make fun of me, or-?”

“I’m sorry.” He cleared his throat, trying to become serious. But failing. “I just can’t believe you’re actually jealous, of me, I mean, that’s just-”

She didn’t even try to stop the eye-roll this time. “Coulson…”

Her ‘I’m-gonna-kick-your-ass’ voice seemed to have some effect in wiping that infuriating smirk off his stupid face. 

“So…”

She looked up at him. He smiled, and her heart warmed. She’d missed him. So goddamn much. 

“Hot chocolate?”

She nodded. Coulson’s hot chocolate was the best thing ever. 

His smile grew bigger and she couldn’t help but return it. Screw him.

As they walked through the corridors, his arm brushed up against hers.

“Melinda May and jealous in the same sentence, who would’ve ever thought…”