A/N: May and the ducklings hugging is incredibly important to me. It spans from pre-series to speculating about next season, so some spoilers! Title from Youth by Daughter.

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

I. Natasha

She aches, all over.

The mission had been simple, but they hadn't been expecting the firepower the enemy had had, and she'd wound up with a bullet in the shoulder, and bruises all over her back from falling back onto the ground. Phil had stitched her back up and gotten her out, leaving Barton and Maria to clean up; her arm would be in a sling for a few weeks, but it had been a through-and-through, and she was fine.

Natasha's waiting at her desk; she doesn't hear them come in, and she's half-sitting on the edge of the desk, tapping her foot impatiently, arms folded over her chest. Phil clears his throat and Natasha jumps, eyes wide and dark red curls swishing around her shoulders.

"I'm fine," Melinda says before Natasha can even open her mouth. "I got shot, it was nothing, I'll be fine."

"Mel…"

"Nat," Melinda cuts her off, giving her a look as she reaches her desk. Natasha contemplates her for a minute before she steps forward, wrapping her arms around Melinda carefully and hugging her quickly, whispering her words quietly in her ear.

"I'm glad you're okay."

(It's the first time the redheaded Russian has shown emotion outside of training, and Melinda relishes it quietly.)

II. Maria

Maria finds her after everyone else has gone home- she'd stayed late in the hopes that she'd see Phil. She's flicking through a book lazily, not really actually reading, when Maria walks up to her desk. She's silent, but her eyes are red and she looks sad, and Melinda stands up immediately, heart inexplicably in her throat.

"What is it, Maria?" she asks, and her voice seems loud in the vast silence of the room even though she's barely whispering. Maria swallows, drops her gaze to her toes, and looks up at her, licking her lips before speaking.

"He's dead, May."

Melinda looks at her, blinks, and simply shakes her head. "He can't be."

"He is. Loki- Loki's scepter went through his heart. He died on the helicarrier. He's gone, Melinda," Maria says, voice shaking as her eyes grew wet, unable to keep up the stoic face any longer. Melinda inhales sharply, pain lodging in her chest as she tried to breathe out. She's trying to breathe when suddenly there's a warm body pressed against hers and a wet cheek on her neck, Maria's arms around her shoulders.

She stiffens initially but relaxes after a moment; she touches Maria's back lightly, letting the younger woman collect herself against her shoulder. Maria had been two years below her in the Academy, but they'd bonded quickly, and where Melinda had been, Phil wasn't far behind. They'd been easy friends, the three of them, and even with the distance the years had caused, Melinda stilled trusted her with her life.

So she let Maria hug her, let her have this moment of weakness.

(She couldn't allow herself to be weak, though- that was for later, when she was alone and drunk in his apartment, wrapped in his shirt.)

III. Jemma

Jemma's unpacking when she finds her.

She'd tried to give her some space, a chance to find her place, but she'd just gotten the sense that something was off, and she hadn't been able to hold off anymore. She knocks quietly, and Jemma's voice is only slightly shaky when she calls out that she can come in.

"Oh, hello May," Jemma says as Melinda shuts the door behind her, genuine warmth in her face.

"Are you okay, Jemma?" she asks, and Jemma's cheeks pink slightly before she drops her gaze back to the clothes in her hands. "It's okay if you're not, you know."

"I have to be," Jemma replies quietly, sinking down onto her bed. Melinda sits next to her, touching her knee gently. "I miss him. Nothing is the same anymore."

"It won't be," Melinda says after a moment of silence, covering one of Jemma's hands with both hers. "Your relationship with Fitz is going to change because you're both different. You have to adjust- you have to let the change happen. You're both hurting, and he won't let you in right now. You just have to show him you're not going to leave. Not again."

"I didn't-"

"You did, Jemma," Melinda corrects her quietly, softening her words with a small smile. "And that's okay, because you needed to do what you had to to heal. But now he needs you, even if he'll never admit it or ask for it. He needs you to be there, just as much as you need him."

Jemma looks at her, large eyes wet, though she manages not to let any tears fall before she surges forward, wrapping her arms around Melinda's neck, hugging her tightly. Melinda stiffens minutely at first before she relaxes, hands resting gently on Jemma's back as the younger woman sniffles quietly into her neck.

(All she wants is to see Fitz and Jemma come together in a way she and Phil couldn't after Bahrain unmade her. She promises herself she'll do whatever she has to to help.)

IV. Bobbi

Bobbi's in the training room when Melinda finds her.

She's got out her batons and she's twirling them in agitation, pacing across the mats. Melinda leans against the wall, folding her arms, just watching her for a while before she speaks.

"You pace any more you're going to wear a hole in the floor."

"I'll pay to replace the mats," Bobbi responds back with easily, causing the edges of Melinda's mouth to pull up into a half-smile. "Can't help it. Pacing helps me think."

"Always did," Melinda acknowledges with a nod, gaze watching the silver of the batons flash through the air. "Want to talk about it?"

Bobbi shakes her head, blonde ringlets slipping and sliding over her shoulders, catching on the collar of her shirt. She stops pacing after a moment though and faces her, chewing on her lower lip.

"Have you ever lied to someone you love?" She sighs at the look Melinda gives her, closing her eyes briefly. "I don't want looks, Mel, I want answers. And don't tell me your looks count as answers, because that's the last thing I need to hear right now."

"Of course I've lied to people I love Bobbi," Melinda starts to answer, and Bobbi shakes her head, cutting her off.

"Not people you love. The person you love. That you're in love with," she clarifies, breath catching in her chest as the last word leaves her mouth in a soft exhale. Melinda nods again, but her gaze is softer and sadder, dark eyes hazy with memory. "Is it supposed to feel like this? Like there's a weight on my chest and pressure on my shoulders and there's this taste in my mouth that feels like betrayal."

"That's what happens when you're in love," Melinda answers quietly, pushing off the wall and walking onto the mats, only a foot away from Bobbi now. "It's time to make the decision. Is the person you love more important than the secret you're keeping? Or do you love the person enough to let them share the secret with you?"

Bobbi just looks at her, and for a moment she looks just like the girl Melinda trained, young and bright and naïve, fresh off the boat into the Academy. She aches for those days, sometimes- but before she can dwell, Bobbi's got her arms around her, stopping slightly so her taller frame envelopes Melinda's slight one.

"Thanks," she whispers quietly before she lets go, batons out and flashing as she walks away, leaving Melinda in the quiet of the gym.

(She wonders for a moment if she should take her own advice; if she should stop lying to herself and to the man she's been in love with for as long as she can remember. But then she remembers the life they live now, and she pushes that urge down. Bobbi may be able to find that happiness, but she lost hers years ago.)

V. Fitz

Fitz is alone in what used to be the lab when Melinda finds him.

She sits down next to him, back against the wall, without a word. They sit silently for a while, Fitz playing with something with the fingers of his good hand, head bent and gaze on his hand.

"We missed you at dinner," Melinda says after a moment, and Fitz raises his head for a moment, lifting his shoulder briefly before looking at his hand again. "Have you eaten?"

"I will…uh, I will later," he answers, and Melinda frowns.

"Jemma wasn't at dinner either," she continues, and she sees Fitz perk up slightly at her words. "Is there a reason you still haven't talked to her?"

Fitz stays silent, keeps his head bent, and Melinda sighs softly, leaning over to rest her hand on his knee gently.

"You have to let Jemma in, Fitz. You're not gaining anything by pushing away someone you love," she tells him quietly. "You're only hurting yourself, and you're hurting her."

"I don't…I don't," he starts, and Melinda shakes her head before he can finish.

"Fitz, you can't make excuses anymore. You love her. Show her that," she says, and then pauses, swallowing, before she continues. "Losing someone you care about because you're too stubborn to let them in hurts far worse than putting yourself out there."

Fitz looks at her then, and she's sure he can see right through her; he blinks, and then he leans forward and turns, wrapping her in a hug. She hesitates for only a moment before she returns it, her hands on his back as she hugs back. She releases him and lets him slip away quietly, his footsteps loud in the empty room.

(She hopes she's helped. She can still remember the sting of losing someone she called her best friend. She doesn't wish that feeling on anyone.)

VI. Skye

Skye's barricaded herself in her room when Melinda finds her.

It's been a week, and everyone was still reeling from the events of the chamber. Trip was a devastating loss; there was a hole in the team where he'd been, and Skye had taken his death the hardest. And her reveal that she and Raina had been impacted- been changed by the obelisk- had only caused her to pull even further away from the people who cared about her.

Yesterday, she'd gathered up her courage and called in the one man she swore she'd never call again, and asked him to come help. Tomorrow, her ex-husband would be arriving on base- he was specially trained to deal with this kind of trauma, and both she and Phil were hoping he could help Skye overcome her grief for Trip and learn to control her new powers.

"Skye?" Melinda calls, one hand on the door and her forehead pressed against the wall, listening intently. "Skye, can I come in?"

She doesn't hear any refusal, and when she tries the door it's open; Skye is curled up with her back against the foot of her bed, her head buried in her arms and her knees tucked into her chest. Melinda swallows, shutting the door softly behind her and coming to sit in front of Skye. She touches her ankle lightly and Skye shrinks in on herself, shaking her head.

"Don't touch me," she whispers, raising tear-streaked cheeks to look at Melinda. "I don't want to hurt you."

"You can't hurt me Skye," Melinda replies softly, fingers curling around Skye's knee and squeezing gently. "And you can't keep hiding in here. Not when there are people that want to help you out there."

"No one can help me. I'm a monster," Skye says, her voice hitching in a sob as she says the last word, a fresh wave of tears slipping down her cheeks.

"No, Skye. You're far from a monster," Melinda replies firmly, sitting forward on her knees, reaching up to brush Skye's tangled brunette locks from where they stuck to her damp cheeks. "You're Skye, just like you always have been. You are who you chose to be, and you always will be. No one can take that from you- even someone who believes he holds the right to call himself your father."

Skye takes a shaking breath, blinking away more tears as Melinda tucks her hair behind her ear, thumb brushing away the drops sliding down her cheeks still.

"You deserve to be happy and loved, by people who truly know the person inside of you and who love the person they see every day," Melinda continues softly, hand dropping to Skye's shoulder as Skye's knees fall to the side, allowing her closer. "You deserve the family that's waiting out there to show you that they love you no matter what, and to remind you that you are blameless in everything that's happened. Don't push them away, Skye. You need them."

"You say that like you understand," Skye says after a moment, and Melinda grows quiet, dark eyes searching Skye's face thoughtfully.

"Because I do," she responds, voice so soft Skye has to lean forward slightly to hear her. "I know what it likes to feel like you're a monster, and that no one can understand or help. I understand wanting to push everyone you love away so that you can't hurt them, and I know the loss you feel right now. But I can tell you, if you succeed in pushing everyone away, you won't feel better. You'll feel worse, because you'll be alone; you'll tell yourself you're unlovable, and you deserve to be unlovable, and happiness is the last thing you'll ever have again."

Melinda looks at Skye then, lets her see the tears that have formed while she was speaking. "And you'll spend years of your life believing everyone was better off for walking away from you because you're damaged."

Skye reaches for Melinda's hand, lacing her fingers through hers and squeezing, her own tears falling as Melinda swallows before speaking again.

"I want you to have what I didn't think I deserved when I came back from Bahrain," she whispers, reaching her free hand up to cup Skye's cheek. "I want you to understand that you have a family that loves you so much, Skye- it doesn't matter if you're different or changed, you are still the Skye we love. And you have to let us help you. Please let us help you."

Skye looks at May for a moment before nodding, new tears falling. Melinda's breath hitches in relief before she moves forward, enveloping Skye in a hug so tight she can barely breathe; she simply hugs her back harder, face buried in her neck. She's surrounded by warmth and love and she's so wrapped up in the feeling that she doesn't even realize the ground is shaking slightly until Melinda laughs softly, right next to her ear.

"You're going to be just fine," she says, brushing away the last of Skye's tears and holding her face gently. "I'm not going anywhere, Skye. I promise."

She means those seven words more than she's meant anything else in her entire life. Promising to help this girl feels right, to her very core.

(And, it's the closest she'll ever get to motherhood.)