The Father's Return

Looking for May

Her head pounded like someone had thwacked her with a sledge hammer, a high pitched ringing noise settling inside her ears. Her jaw ached as she opened her mouth to let out a long sigh. Pain like this was almost unbearable to contain, in fact she felt numbness take over her whole body, until she was taken lightly by the arms and dragged across the cold, dusty floor. The hands that held her were strong but gentle as she drooped her head backwards in exhaustion. She couldn't find the energy to open her eyes to see the person above her, and the dread that festered inside of her grew and grew as she was lowered to the ground. All was dark and cold around her, the grime on the floor coating the back of her hands as she lay motionlessly still.

Suddenly there was a bright light the flashed over her eyelids, making her flinch at the strain it caused. Giving almost all the effort she had left, she slowly opened her eyes, only enough to see the light shining down on her face. A warm body moved closer to her side, an arm carefully wrapping around her back and holding her up. She heard a muffled voice becoming clearer over the high pitched ringing in her ears.

"Come on, open your eyes. That's it," spoke a soft voice, a hand placed on her cheek.

"Wake up, come back to me May." Just then she opened her eyes a little more and focused enough to figure out who held her in their arms. She smiled, her jaw aching.

"You're late." She laughed lightly then croaked, coughing up hot liquid that she spat into the dust beside her. It wasn't till she looked down that she saw a puddle of blood, deep red starring right back at her. It wasn't just the blood she saw that she'd thrown up either; following the way she'd been dragged across the room, she saw a trail of smudged gore that stopped just underneath her leg. Then it all came flooding back to her; the bar, the attack, the pain, that crunch...

She shifted backwards as she starred at her broken shin, her hands shaking with fear and disbelief.

"It's alright May," Coulson held her closer in his arms, "Just stay calm and listen to my voice."

She wouldn't speak, she couldn't speak. The gore and action had built up and up until now and she found herself finding it hard to breathe.

"May, look at me, look at me," he said clearly and raised her chin. She looked up at him, tears shining over the brown irises in her eyes that had brought him comfort, anger and affection. She trembled and lifted her arm off the dusty ground, and placed her hand on his.

"That's it, I'm here now and it's alright. Breath in and out again." He calmed her down until she closed her eyes and rested her weary body against his. He stroked her head; she looked strangely peaceful yet disturbed at the same time, and he felt so much fear, sadness and care inside. Had he gone with her she might have come away untouched; well, a little less damaged that she'd come to be.

"Coulson," Jemma said through her ear piece, "Have you found her?"

"Yeah she fine, but she'll need serious medical attention," he replied observing her injuries and watching her curl up to him.

"Right, I can see you two on the map," she replied pointing out the two small dots on the hand held tracker, "I'm on my way." Jemma picked up her rucksack and left the plane, leaving Skye to scan over the CCTV footage from the diner.

Jemma entered the old building, the door squeaking on its rusty hinges as she pushed it open. Cringing, she quietly walked in and down a dusty hallway. Her every step echoed slightly and she winced at the deadly silence.

Should've stuck to the flats, she thought as she walked on in her brown heeled boots. Coming to a door or the right she found that a flight of stairs descended steeply below.