This sort of ties in/follows on from another of my fics called Fix You, but they can be read as standalones.

Spoilers for season 2. This is your warning.

As usual, I don't own anything or make money from it etc.

In the current world of fear and pain, finding solace was a rare occurrence.

May missed the BUS, missed how she could escape to the cockpit and lock herself away, taking the time to wind down and clear her mind alone. She missed the low hum of the engines as they flew, lulling her into a dreamless sleep in her bunk, whilst the autopilot took control of getting them to their destination safely.

But in the recent weeks, May had found a new place to go.

The labs downstairs were Fitz's playground. He retreated there most days, spending hours collating data, looking for ways to replicate the cloaking device the S.H.I.E.L.D helicarriers used so that they could finally get their BUS back out into the world. But it was hard. He was alone in his mission; the rest of the team were incapable of solving the problem due to their lack of knowledge and experience in the world of science. His mind continued locking him out from the thoughts and words he so longed to communicate however, and with each passing day his frustrations grew deeper.

May made tea. Not the traditional British kind with milk and too much sugar she'd witnessed both Fitz and Jemma consume gallons of in the previous year, but green tea, calming and sweet, designed to relax and soothe the mind. The heat from the cheap porcelain mugs almost burned her hands as she carried them down to the lab, and she momentarily longed to be in a place with good crockery, warm sheets, and daylight streaming in through windows to the outside world. But instead they were underground, in a slightly damp converted bunker, fighting to save what was left of their lives.

Descending the staircase, she could hear the low tones of the engineer below, and she knew with a heavy heart that he was talking to Jemma again. It was cruel really, the twist of fate that had partially taken his mind from him, and May could only imagine the way he felt like he was flailing. Fitz had sacrificed himself to save Jemma in that pod, and once they returned, both alive, she had left. Jemma had her reasons for leaving the team, and May would never hold them against her; she knew too well the feeling of drowning amongst emotion, the strength that could have in holding a person back, and prevent them from ever seeing their lives clearly again. But in doing so, her departure had left Fitz more isolated. His partner was no longer there to hold him up, and his mental fragmentation had bloomed more clearly than they had all seen before.

He and Jemma had worked together since their first years at the Academy, inseparable, bouncing ideas to-and-fro as they bickered and bonded and became best friends. May couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt every time she now saw Fitz, knowing it had been her decision to put the pair on the plane in the first place. Sure, she hadn't known Ward had been working for HYDRA, and neither had she pushed the button to drop the pod they'd taken refuge in into the ocean, but it was with a forced smile she entered the lab each day. She'd taken them from their cosy world, promising the adventure of missions and freedom and wonder, but the result had turned into horrors worse than any could have imagined.

It wasn't surprising that the protective force May had felt towards the younger members of her team during the past year, had now only grown into something stronger, more resilient and determined. She had never been a mother, never felt that maternal drive pushing her through life, but she'd be damned if anything was going to happen to Leo Fitz now.

He stopped talking when she came through the automatic glass doors, warily looking up to see who had come to not speak to him properly this time. That hurt more than anything else: that the team he'd once considered family no longer spoke to him or treated him as they used to do so. If he had lost a leg, or suffered serious broken bones, or had his perfect skin marred by scarring, then perhaps people would still believe he could do his job at the same time as sympathising with him. But mental injuries brought with them the additional complication of having no physically visible trauma; nothing to focus on or bandage up or kiss better, which often meant less understanding, and less acceptance of something being wrong.

"I brought you some tea."

May set the mug down gently onto a paper coaster, and hopped up onto the empty surface across from him. Fitz nodded in thanks, and continued to study the metal fragments under his microscope.

She was one of the few people who visited often, who made the effort to come to him each day; even if they said only a few words to one another during the time she would spend sitting on a bench as he worked, her presence brought him some comfort, to know he was not alone. Some days, she would stay for ten minutes, other days over an hour. Sometimes, when May came to see him with a genuine science-related question about something the team needed, he felt slightly awkward, like he didn't want her to see him struggle, and those were the times she made sure to remain with him as he worked and help as much as she could. He needed to know that they still thought of him as their engineer, and as their friend, and Melinda May wasn't about to let a brain injury change that.

She remembered the first time she had sat here, feeling like she needed to do something to help. Fitz had told her she was welcome to stay, which had surprised her slightly because it was his zone, but she had nodded and stayed all the same.

"I can't help you much when it comes to engineering and science" she'd said softly, when he murmured to her about the molecular structure of something.

"That's alright" he'd replied after a moment, "I can't help you much when it comes to kicking ass."

They shared a look, and both smiled slightly. The silence that followed was comfortable, and both were happy for it to continue each day.

May knew next to nothing about the world of science he lived in, but she was patient when he couldn't find the right words, and was happy for him to bounce ideas off of her, despite being unable to offer any feasible responses to most of it. But it was better than him discussing things with the hallucinatory version of Jemma; this arrangement seemed to work for them both, and so neither complained.

For now.

Please review and let me know what you think! I love the potential for a May/Fitz relationship; the idea of Mama!May helping her science baby through his recovery is appealing to me.