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Published:
2020-10-04
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2020-10-17
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2/?
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Et Resurrectionis Erimus

Summary:

Time Travel is a bizarre thing. It turns out that once two genius scientists know how to do it, they aren't going to forget that.

And once you can time travel, is death really final?

It appears not, as once more Philip J. Coulson is not dead.

A fic detailing what would happen if FitzSimmons utilised time travel to resurrect Phil once more and how the rest of the team take this! Basically indulgent Philinda and Family.

Notes:

This is basically me just not accepting the fact that Phil is dead. I can't! And I loved the ending but I feel like leaving it as LMD Phil just felt... empty. I know people didn't want him brought back - but I did! And so here is a fic where I basically just get to enact all my S.H.I.E.L.D future feelings and pretend that Phil is alive and they can all be happy, okay?

They say it takes an army and I definitely had my own little army to look over this who I am so, so, incredibly grateful to.

Firstly, giant thanks as usual to my absolutely incredible beta, Sanctuaria, who hyped this up so much and who I couldn't post anything without, because she catches hundreds of my stupid mistakes! You are awesome.

Also, to MelinduhhMay, my lovely friend who I got this idea formed with, as we were brainstorming our rp and I just ran with it. I love you, you are so talented and thank you for letting me use this!

To IndependantAlto who writes incredible fics that always inspire me so much and who was kind enough to read this for me and point out all of my choppy sentences and little mistakes that hadn't been caught, you were so positive and kind and helpful, I'm so grateful to you! And heroesofmarvelanddc, you were so positive, thank you!

And last but not least, to the guys on discord who read this, Snap and Deadpool, you were so sweet to do it and so positive you made me feel confident enough to post it and also Snap, thank you so much for your feedback it was so helpful.

Okay, I'll shut up now, I hope you enjoy, thanks for reading!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Chapter 1: The Academy

Chapter Text

Time travel was a rather bizarre thing. It had to be kept incredibly secret, of course. But that was something which Strategic Homeland Intervention Enforcement and Logistics Division agent Philip J. Coulson was used to by now. He certainly shouldn’t have been capable of conscious thought on this plane of existence, anymore, and that was just as closely guarded a secret. 

 

It also turned out that once two genius scientists had found a way to time travel, they weren’t going to forget how they managed it, even if the initial machine broke. And they had a robot version of Phil. Who could go and save the real version of himself, without any adverse effect to his mind. That came in useful.

 

So there he was. Whisked off a beach in Tahiti and handed the GH.325 serum. It was colder, here in America. But he was alive.

 

It was a tough one to get his head around, that was for sure. By now, you’d think Phil Coulson would be used to dying. But he had truly thought that was it that time. Nothing had prepared him to be taken away and faced with... himself. But somehow not. This version of him had a slightly different voice, there wasn’t as much light behind the eyes.

 

And it made both more sense and zero sense when he was told. Robots and time travel? Again? Well. Having to be able to control it like that would have been useful. An evil version of himself? Par for the course, he supposed. Stealing faces was old news. They’d met all of his heroes - and he wasn’t there? And weirdest of all, Fitzsimmons had a kid? They were still kids themselves!!!

 

It was just the aforementioned twosome who knew about him as of yet. They were keeping it under wraps just till they could formulate a plan and adjust him to everything. That, of course, meant having to come up with excuses as to why Auntie Daisy and Uncle Daniel couldn’t come for tea; unlike the little seven- year- old, they knew Coulson far too well not to realise he seemed different from ChroniCoulson. Jemma was avoiding Daisy’s calls herself anyway - she was better at lying than she had once been, but lying to her sister was not something she had ever successfully managed. 

 

Fitz had cried when Coulson walked in. Jemma had kept surprisingly calm, but the tightness of the hug she gave him belied her relief and happiness at seeing him again. Coulson was struck by how normal they appeared, Jemma with a streak of flour on her cheek from baking with Alya and hair swept up into a messy bun, Fitz with a cookbook in hand for dinner. They seemed like composed, mature adults. and Phil was hit by a wave of nostalgia for the pair of inexperienced Brits who had greeted him in the academy that fateful day, talking too fast and worried about being told off. Alongside that, however, was a huge amount of pride, and the corners of his mouth twisted further into a smile as he watched them. It was the life they had always deserved. 

 

A dinner followed. Fish Pie, which little Alya managed to get all over her face. And they just… talked. For Phil, it was an onslaught of knowledge, the broad strokes of what the team had been up to for the last few years. His heart constricted painfully at all he had missed ,- his daughter falling in love, his team gaining happiness. But it was also filled with joy at the fact that they had that happiness. It was everything he had ever dreamed for them.

 

It was late that night, Alya put to bed and a bottle of wine half finished, that Phil brought up the topic they had skirted around. 

 

He just hoped she was happy... 

 

After everything, all they had been through, Melinda was truly owed joy. She had had enough pain and fear in her life, from the Bahrain incident and everything with Andrew to each and every member of her little family being damaged and needing her to be strong. She had been, he knew. But he had a rare insight to see how much strain she was under, being the rock for the team. Melinda May deserved to be able to have every need met, and to be able to relax and enjoy her life. 

 

‘She’s okay,’ Jemma said softly. ‘She likes her new job. Training the new generation…’

 

It fit her. Coulson knew - or had known at least - better than anyone that under her tough outer shell, Melinda May cared for her people, her protegees. She had done an incredible job of training FitzSimmons and Daisy - and once upon a time getting a naive communications trainee by the name of Coulson up to scratch.

 

‘She liked the last lot of students,’ Jemma continued. ‘And it’s not so long till our little one will be heading there!’

 

She exchanged a soft look with Fitz for a moment.

 

‘She seemed... lonely, though. When we last saw her,’’ Fitz added, yelping as Jemma elbowed him in the side. 

 

Jemma quickly changed the topic, bringing up pictures of what Coulson Academy looked like. He took in a sharp breath at the picture of May in front of the gates, face serious but eyes alight. 

 

Scrolling down the page, they spotted that the Academy had a space for a communications teacher and the beginnings of an idea grew in their minds. 

 

Fake applications were swiftly drafted, a false name written across the top so as not to spoil the surprise. A rather nondescript but qualified agent appeared before them. He'd always liked the name Clark. It wasn’t too rare for agents to change their names to avoid capture, so hopefully it wouldn’t be questioned, at least before a first interview. It was sent in. 

 

X X X X 

 

The morning of, he was nervous. What if she didn’t believe it was him? He wouldn’t blame her. What if she just didn’t want to see him?

 

He tried to push all of his worries out of his head as he got ready, firmly-pressed suit fitting like it always had. 

 

With a chorus of Good Luck from FitzSimmons he straightened his tie and headed to Coulson Academy. 

 

It was a beautiful day, which made the beautiful school before him even more impressive. It was clearly new, clean and modern, but also elegant and without that particular feel of a school, warm rugs and big bookcases rather than whitewashed hallways and dark blue carpets. Its headmistress had clearly had a hand in the decor. 

 

Up the spiral staircase in the entry hall he went, a young student directing him to ‘Miss May’s office for the interviews.’ There was a small waiting area with a young teen boy sat behind a desk with a tag. ‘Flint, Administrative Assistant,’ had wide eyes at the sight of him and Phil gave him a warm hello with a smirk. He was trying to ignore the fact that this could foil their whole plan if Flint raised a fuss at recognising him, but he just blinked wildly and told him to head straight in.

 

He was greeted with quite a sight to behold. Sat by a large window, Melinda was bathed in light. Her hair fell out of a loose updo in soft tendrils onto the desk, where her head was bent marking some books. He felt as if every atom in his body was reaching out to the familiar sight. 

 

‘Miss May?’ He pretended to ask, a slight playfulness to his voice. 

 

She lifted her head, starting to say, ‘Ah yes, Mr Gregg?’ before the words died in her throat. She blinked, shock racing across the beautiful eyes he knew so well and she swallowed. 

‘Phil?!’

 

Chapter 2: But it couldn't be Him.

Summary:

Melinda sees Phil. Will she be happy to see him?

Notes:

Hi!

Here's chapter 2 of this Lil' AoS fic - and I still don't own the show!

Another thank you to Sanctuaria, IndependentAlto and MelinduhhMay, who are all incredible, gave me the best feedback and helped get this to where it is now! You are all so talented and your writing inspires me each and every day!

Thanks to deadpool on discord also for reading this and being so positive!

And last but not least, thank you to Mo and Jed for creating a world that causes me such joy and lets me express so much emotion. I am so grateful to you guys and you are amazing <3

(See the end of the chapter for more notes.)

Chapter Text

Melinda Qiaolian May did not have time for this. She had a million and one things going through her brain about the day-to-day running of her school, all the lessons she had to plan and phone calls she had to make. She was also due a call with Daisy as they hadn’t spoken for a few days, and she needed to check in with her young scientists who had been avoiding her calls.

 

The last thing she needed was her young and excitable communications teacher deciding to leave so as to go and ‘defend the world.’ She had hired him some months back because he’d reminded her of an old friend, but now she was regretting that. She should have known he would have some ambitions about being a field agent, not that she was one to talk. 

 

The communications post was one she just could not seem to fill long-term. Daisy and FitzSimmons always said it was like the Defense Against the Dark Arts post at Hogwarts. Melinda pretended like she didn’t know what they meant and got long lectures on the Potterverse on a regular basis as a result. 

 

But that was why the interviews she was holding were sandwiched between two classes, on her lunch break, alongside marking student essays. Her schedule was a complete mess, but this was the only time she could manage. There had only been a few applicants, but one had seemed okay, if a little dull. That was almost better, if she hadn’t heard of him he was unlikely to be of interest to aliens. Always a bonus. 

 

She looked a mess. Not one to usually care about that, as she didn’t need to be glamorous to teach, she was annoyed. Formal interviews called for a different appearance to her usual, she would have hoped to at least appear presentable. Unfortunately, today’s events had all colluded with each other to prevent this, waking up late for once and then having a high-intensity combat class to teach. 

 

Nothing could be done about that now though. Her hair fell out of its pins, curling around her face and she sighed, tucking it back behind her ear in annoyance as she neatly printed on the work in front of her, giving a short comment for improvement. Most teachers would just scrawl across the page, but May wanted her students to at least be able to read her feedback… some of them needed it. 

 

At the quick knock on the door, Melinda looked up, readying a neat, company-ready smile on her lips. That was almost becoming too natural now. 

 

As she glanced upwards and her eyes settled on the man before her, she blinked hard in shock. 

 

It couldn’t be him.

 

Her mind came to a halt like a record scratching suddenly and she just stared in shock. In front of her was… Phil Coulson. Not the robot. Anyone else would struggle to tell the difference, but Melinda had always felt they weren’t really that similar. The LMD didn’t have Phil’s sweet, awkward mannerisms quite right; it stood too tall. One thing she had always loved about Phil was that no matter what rank he was,he still somewhat acted like the timid, awkward trainee she had once befriended. She knew the man before her in his every mannerism, from the slight slope of his head as he looked at her, to the nerves behind the smirk his lips held. 

But it couldn’t be him.

 

Phil Coulson was dead. He died on a quiet beach on Tahiti, waves rolling steadily back and forth, initially at the same speed of his breath but eventually much faster as it became more laboured. A matching gold ring on his finger to the two she wore now, one on her ring finger and one on a chain around her neck. He had taken in air for the last time, so slowly and painfully with his head on her lap. 

 

It couldn’t be him. 

 

After a moment of staring, Phil started to softly say her name and she cut him off with a sharp, ‘No.’

 

She stood out of her seat as she spoke, stepping back, eyes wide. One hand came to hold her necklace and the other wrapped around her chest in a sort of defensive stance. 

 

Phil tried again, face falling into concern. 

 

‘Mel, it’s me,’ he said softly. 

 

Her brain registered the voice and responded, picking up all of the intonation. She unconsciously relaxed a little, it really did sound like Phil. 

 

But it couldn’t be him.

 

‘I grieved him,’ she said quietly, her voice cracking. ‘I know I’m never going to speak to Phil Coulson again. Phil Coulson is dead. He’s gone. We don’t get that happy ever after, life isn’t like that. He was taken from me and I had to be okay with that. It was the hardest thing I have ever done, but damn it, I did it! You can’t be him.’

 

Her voice rose as she spoke, and a hot, furious tear rolled down her cheeks. 

 

Phil looked heartbroken. It was clear he wanted nothing more than to reach out to her, but there was an invisible barrier between them. He hated that she had gone through this pain; if he could have given anything at all to take it away from her, he would have done so at any cost. 

 

He tried again, ‘I - I know…’ but cut himself off as a wall of emotions erupted within him and choked his words. He swallowed softly, looking down. 

 

For a moment, Melinda felt a little seed of hope start to plant in her chest and she looked up at him, desperately wanting to believe him, everything in her wanting it to be him. 

 

But it couldn’t be him.

 

As Melinda stared up at him, her brain scrambled for any possible way in which Phil Coulson could truly be in front of her. There was only one possible option, and as she realised, anger flooded her. 

 

‘They didn’t,’ she said, fire burning icily in her eyes. ‘They didn’t update their software. Why would they do that? It’ll never be Phil Coulson! You can’t create a good heart through mechanics!’ Melinda was pacing now, a hand in her hair.

 

She almost wished FitzSimmons hadn’t created an LMD Coulson. She understood it, of course she did. She wanted nothing more than Phil Coulson back. But it could never be him. And, selfishly, she hated to see his face and know, each time, that it wasn’t her Phil. It felt like a thousand needles, slowly pricking at her chest, to be so close to what she had always wanted but unable to actually have it. It was like an eternal tease, pushing her to imagine her dream life but holding it away from her. 

 

Phil let out a long breath, eyes pained. After a moment, he simply reached out and touched her hand. Melinda couldn’t help but let out a soft sigh of her own at the contact, her skin reacting to the familiar touch and eyes flitting up to meet his for the first time. Everything about it felt… right. Touching the LMD had felt somehow wrong. Touching Phil was like coming home.

 

‘May I?’ he said softly, asking for permission to hug her. She couldn’t muster it within her to speak but simply nodded. 

 

Phil gently wrapped his arms around Melinda, pulling her close to him. Her head came to rest against his chest, where it fit perfectly into place like jigsaw pieces going together. It felt like coming home, and all the tension in both of their shoulders melted away at once. 

 

‘You should relax more. Go on holiday sometime. To Tahiti, maybe,’ he whispered into her ear, joking softly. 

 

It was him.

Notes:

So they meet again! I didn't want to have May be instantly so happy because honestly that doesn't feel right to me with who she is! Do you guys agree? I'm still playing around with how to write angst but I hope this was angsty enough with a sweet enough finish too? Any and all feedback is loved and I hope you enjoyed!

 

TabiCatt xx

Notes:

Whoop I'll leave this one there folks! I was a bit unsure about some of the characterisation in this, and I'm nervous about putting it out there but it just sort of rushed out of me when I was actually meant to be doing some work and I had to get it down! I'm really excited to see what you think so please let me know? Even if it's bad it'll be helpful because how can I improve for the next chapters??
Thanks again for reading and I really hope you enjoyed!