See more on my P@treon.
[email protected]/Dreamerlord Just replace @ with a
Read more than 60+ chap there
******
They reached the hotel not long after.
It was a quiet, high-end place—secure, clean, and far from the noise of the city.
Everyone split up at the entrance.
"I'm going straight to my room," Ethan said. "I need a shower."
"Same," Sharon said quickly, clearly tired.
Grant stretched his shoulders. "I'm dead on my feet."
Storm nodded. "Rest well. Tomorrow will be busy."
They went their separate ways.
Ethan's room was simple and dark, just the way he liked it.
He dropped his coat on a chair, loosened his collar, and went straight to the bathroom.
Hot water hit his back as soon as he stepped into the shower.
He closed his eyes.
"Finally…" he muttered feeling all sand rinsing off his body making him feel lot better again.
After a long shower, he dried off, threw on a clean shirt, and collapsed onto the bed.
Within minutes, he was asleep.
In another part of the hotel, Coulson and May checked into their rooms.
They were right next to each other.
May raised an eyebrow.
"I thought we were leaving tonight."
"I was planning to," Coulson said as he took his key card. "But then I thought… we could both use a break."
May crossed her arms.
"You just want to talk."
Coulson smiled. "That too."
She sighed, then nodded.
"…Fine."
They agreed to meet downstairs in an hour.
Later that evening, Coulson and May sat in the hotel restaurant.
Nothing fancy. Just quiet.
Coulson looked at her over his glass.
"You've been tense."
May didn't deny it.
"Andrew… I don't know what happened," she said quietly. "It's like he vanished. He doesn't even pick up my calls anymore."
Coulson frowned.
"Did something happen between you two?"
"Not that I know of," May replied. "Nothing that should've caused our divorce."
Coulson paused.
"You already divorced him?"
May nodded.
"He left. Disappeared for over six months without any reason."
"You didn't try to talk to him?" Coulson asked gently.
May looked at him sharply.
"Why do you care so much about this?"
Coulson met her gaze.
"Because both you and Andrew are my best friends. Of course I want to know why you two don't even see each other anymore."
May looked down at her plate.
"Maybe people like us don't deserve a good life."
Coulson didn't answer right away.
They ate in silence for a few moments, the clink of cutlery filling the space between them.
Finally, he spoke.
"People don't lose a good life because they don't deserve it," Coulson said calmly. "Sometimes they lose it because they don't know how to face it."
May didn't look at him.
"Andrew didn't even explain," she said. "He just left. Six months. No calls. No messages. Nothing."
"That doesn't sound like him," Coulson said quietly.
"People change," May replied. "Or maybe I just never really knew him."
Coulson leaned back slightly.
"Or maybe something happened that he couldn't talk about."
May scoffed.
"You're still defending him."
"I'm not," Coulson said. "I'm trying to understand."
She shook her head.
"It doesn't matter anymore. What's done is done."
Coulson studied her face.
"You don't sound like someone who's moved on."
May met his eyes.
"And you don't sound like someone who plans to drop it."
He smiled faintly.
"Guess we're both stubborn."
"Still, you should have—" Coulson started, but May cut him off with a sharp glare.
"Okay. No more talk about Andrew," she said.
Coulson raised his hands slightly. "okay."
May paused, then looked at him again.
"So… what's your relationship with Ethan?"
"What do you mean?" Coulson asked.
"I saw the way you were looking at him," she said. "It was genuine concern."
Then she added dryly,
"Don't tell me he's your secret son."
She stared at him like she had just uncovered a big secret.
"No," Coulson said quickly. "He's not my secret son or anything like that."
After a moment, he added,
"Though he is the son of someone I know. Someone he can't even meet."
May raised an eyebrow as she looked at him.
"So his father let you do what should've been his job?"
Coulson shook his head.
"I wouldn't say I'm a father figure to Ethan. We're not that close. He doesn't even call me 'uncle.'"
May shrugged.
"But you're at least on a first-name basis."
Coulson sighed.
"…Yeah. Still, it's not that close."
"Hm. They're here too," May said, nodding toward the entrance.
Ethan walked in, followed by Sharon, Grant, and Storm.
A waiter approached and led them to a table nearby. It was a four-seat table. They sat down and began ordering.
For a few minutes, no one spoke.
Plates were set down. Drinks were poured. The quiet clinking of cutlery filled the space.
Ethan ate calmly, like this was just another normal dinner.
Sharon glanced between the tables.
"…Did we interrupt something?"
Coulson smiled lightly.
"No. We were just talking."
May looked at Ethan.
"You fought well today."
Ethan nodded.
"Thanks."
Grant leaned back in his chair.
"So… I guess this is my last normal meal before I join SHIELD."
"You're going to SHIELD, not the afterlife," Ethan said expressionlessly. "Why are you acting like I'm killing you?"
Grant choked on his bite.
"I didn't mean it like that," he said quickly.
Ethan shrugged.
Grant looked at Ethan again.
"Still… you sure about this?"
Ethan didn't look up from his food.
"Yes."
Grant studied him for a second, then nodded.
"Alright then."
Coulson cleared his throat and looked at Ethan.
"By the way… can you make me some cool spy stuff?" he asked.
Ethan paused mid-bite.
"…What do you mean?"
"You know," Coulson said, gesturing with his fork. "James Bond–type things. Not flashy nonsense—actual useful gear."
Ethan looked at him for a moment, then nodded slowly.
"Okay."
May raised an eyebrow.
"That was easy."
"I already made some for me anyway," Ethan replied. "Just not labeled as 'spy toys.'"
"You've already made some?" Coulson asked, surprised.
Ethan nodded. "Yeah. I'll show you after food. We can take a walk."
Everyone nodded in agreement.
