Okay but imagine Fitz and Jemma barricading themselves in a
room, the LMDs on the other side, trying to force their way in. They’re
together, but they’re also trapped, and they’re scared. They search for
something to help them, anything at all, but they know they can’t run forever.
They face the trembling door– trembling a bit themselves– holding a hammer and crowbar, and waiting for the inevitable.
“Follow me.” A voice whispers. LMD May stands near the back, face half hidden by the darkness. Fitz and Jemma turn around, and stay in place. Jemma grips the hammer tighter and narrows her eyes. “And why should we trust you?”
LMD May steps forward, and Fitz and Jemma really get to see her clearly. She looks… tired. Like she’s tired fighting the fights May has been fighting for years. That she’s tired being chased by ghosts and tired of seeing them. That she’s tired of becoming one. Like she’s been through everything May has ever gone through even though they know she’s not May and she knows she’s not May.
“Because Radcliffe told me that I wasn’t built to last,” she begins, and she still looks damn tired but she straightens her shoulders and looks them straight in the eye. “And if I wasn’t built to last, then I’m sure as hell going to do something right before I fall.”
(And she did.)