Chapter 2
Looking at the perfectly spaced suits and the aligned ties hanging in his closet, Phil Coulson remembered the last time he wore a tie. Rosalind had done it for him. He could’ve come to love her. He wasn’t sure, though. They were so much alike, still suspicious of one another despite having slept together.
Rosalind was dead. So was Trip and the many others that Phil hated himself for not remembering all their names. Guilt ate at him over killing Grant Ward. Not for the taking of his life when he was down. No, Phil would never be sorry he did it. That’s where the guilt came from. He should feel remorse. It was so unlike him not to. So much so that he’d told Mack to keep at the job as Director of SHIELD.
Phil wasn’t worthy of the position that Fury had put so much trust in him to fulfill.
He brought up the new hand attached to his implant. Just another reminder of how far he was from the idealist Phil Coulson used to be and the stranger he was now.
SHIELD had always been the protector of what was right. Phil had kept faith in the organization most of his adult life and he’d been given the task of rebuilding SHIELD into what it was supposed to be.
Everything he had done up to the moment Rosalind was killed had been just for that.
The suits in his closet taunted him, reminded him and he hated them. Phil reached in with his mechanical hand and jerked them off the hangers not caring about the seams ripping from one another. He grabbed the large hangers with the numerous ties, mangled the metal with his mechanical fist and threw them to the floor along with everything else.
He hadn’t even heard the door open, but when he looked up Melinda was coming into his quarters.
“I haven’t worn them in months,” Phil informed her.
Stoic as ever, Melinda folded her arms. “You need to pack.”
“Why?” Phil was still angry, but not at her. He was instantly sorry for his tone.
“I’m having a quinjet drop you off at the Bali safe house.”
“Last I checked, you’re not the director.”
Phil grabbed a couple of the torn shirts from the floor and tossed them in a trash can.
“The orders came from Mack. He wants you to take a week off.”
“Maybe I shouldn’t have left him in charge,” Phil bit out.
“He won’t relinquish the job until you’ve taken some time off to get your head together, Phil.” Melinda came over and went for the black duffle bag on the floor. She tossed it on the bed. “I agree with him. Get packed.”
“What the hell am I going to do for a week in Bali?”
“Rest, lay under the sun, snorkel or get laid. Take your pick or all of the above, Phil.” She moved closer to him. “You’ve gone non-stop since Fury handed you the Bus. It’s time for you to stop for a little while. Let life catch up to you.”
“Will I even get to take my phone?”
Melinda always surprised him when she smiled a little while not undercover.
“Everyone is under strict orders not to talk shop should you call.”
“A full seven days.” The affirmation was in her eyes and Phil stepped over the tattered suits to the bed. He opened the duffle and began packing.
It was good that everyone saw him off. Afterwards, everyone would separate for the upcoming holiday. Skye – no, Daisy – was leaving with Fitzsimmons to spend Christmas with them. Melinda was flying out to see her parents. She’d told him they actually agreed to be in the same room together. Phil had smiled at that. He suspected his friend needed it more than she’d admit.
Phil was strapping in as the quinjet lifted off. He took a drink from the bottled water and snacked on the strawberry Twizzlers Daisy had stuffed in his pocket. He rested his head against the seat and the thrum of the engines put him to sleep.
He was jarred awake when the quinjet landed. Phil glanced at his watch and then at the pilot.
“What’s wrong? Why’ve we landed so early?”
By his calculations, they still had at least two hours of flying left to do.
“I’m sorry, sir,” the pilot said. “I lost control of the stick just before we landed.”
“Weapon,” Phil ordered. He unbuckled and got to his feet. Phil opened up a compartment and grabbed the icer. As the ramp began lowering, he readied for a fight.
It was a lone figure that stood not far from the opening of the quinjet. Phil dropped his aim when he recognized the man.
“Stark?”
Tony Stark moved forward. Phil had never seen him so furious.
“I always took Fury for the fucking lying spy-king of your little organization, but Agent, I’ve got to say, you beat him hands down.”
Phil motioned for the pilot to lower his weapon. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
“You think the Avengers quit looking at space after New York?” Tony asked arching his eyebrow.
“You’ve been hanging around Natasha too long.”
Tony had a sardonic laugh. “I wouldn’t say her name too loudly right now. We found you out, Coulson! A wormhole anomaly is going to be detected by my satellite. You might as well have flashed a neon sign!”
“I see.”
“So, I did little reconnaissance on my own and came upon the ruins of a once state-of-the-art Frankenstein castle and what do you think I found?”
“I can well imagine,” Phil responded dryly.
“The remains of retrofitted Stark Industries weapons. I gotta admit, Coulson, you’ve got some class one talent in your little band of SHIELD agents. I don’t know whether to hire them away from you or kick your ass for a multitude of reasons, one of which is being dead when you’re so much alive.”
“And you knew I was on this particular quinjet.”
Tony sighed and stepped off the ramp. “The communications telemetry gave you away once I zeroed in on the anomaly. If the Avengers hadn’t had their hands full at the time we might’ve joined your little party. Tracking you was easy once you got back from your trip to wherever the hell you went.”
“Does anyone else know?”
“In about fifteen minutes they will. I called a meeting and you’re the surprise.”
“Stark, they can’t know I’m alive.” Phil had to convince him.
Tony stormed back up the ramp and got in Phil’s face. “You don’t get to make that decision for us anymore!”
He turned around and walked out. Over his shoulder, Tony yelled, “Get your ass off the quinjet and follow me!”
Resigned to his fate, Phil sighed and did as he was told.
~*~
Clint had just paired the recruits to practice some hand-to-hand drills when Natasha met him near the mats in the gym. He glanced in her direction.
“Lassiter would be good for your advanced class. She’s got some real talent for kicking ass.”
“Good. Come on. We’ve got a meeting.”
“I’m in the middle of a class, Tash. It’ll have to wait.”
Natasha eyed the student Clint was referring to. “Lassiter.”
The young woman turned. “Yes, ma’am.”
“Take over.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
When Natasha started for the door, Clint hurried to catch up to her.
“What’s so important that I can’t finish the class?”
“Stark called it.”
Clint rolled his eyes as he opened the door. “Remember the last time? He tried bribing us to go to that stupid movie premier.”
“You went.”
“Only because none of us were going until he turned it into a fundraiser for cancer kids. Jesus, who could say no to that. And for the record, I’m not going this time even if it’s for puppies who need prosthetics.”
“You enjoyed yourself well enough,” she reminded him.
“I used to be a spy, remember? Besides, I was happy to be ignored by the press. They don’t even know who Hawkeye is anymore.”
“We still get inquiries from time to time. You need to be in the field more often.”
“You should get that Bishop kid. She’s a helluva good archer.”
“Clint,” Natasha said with an impatient sigh.
“I’m serious. She’s good. She’d keep Stark in check.”
Seeing the look out of the corner of her eye, Clint let them walk silently for a moment.
“Stark said he had a new gamma tracking system. It was Friday’s idea.”
“Shut up.”
“Nat, it might work.”
“He’s not dead. That’s enough for me.”
“It’s not, but I’ll let it slide.” Bruce Banner was still a tender subject for Natasha. Clint had caught her more than once with a slight redness in her eyes.
They arrived at the conference room and Natasha reached for the door. Clint went through to see Steve and Maria Hill waiting.
“Anyone have a clue what this is about?” Clint asked. He strolled to the coffee and poured a cup.
“You know Tony,” Maria said. “He always plays his surprises close to the vest.”
“Surprises?” Steve asked. “That’s what he told you?”
Maria shrugged.
“Where’s Sam?” Natasha asked Steve. It was no secret that Steve had sent Sam out on discreet inquiries from time to time.
“The VA in DC. He’s taking care of a friend.”
The door came open and everyone turned to see Tony come. The billionaire held it open for another figure that hesitantly entered the room.
The entire room froze in shock as Phil Coulson, the dead agent who had been key in starting the Avenger Initiative, silently entered.
Silence was broken when the coffee cup slipped from Clint’s hand and crashed to the floor. Tony crossed in front of Maria. She was not in the least bit surprised.
“You’re owed an explanation and it will take some time,” Phil began.
“I’d say so,” Steve said after finding his voice.
Clint couldn’t move or breathe. All he saw was Phil Coulson alive, the man he’d practically killed standing in front him as if he’d never been stabbed through the chest by a maniacal demigod.
“Nat,” he whispered.
“I see him,” Natasha muttered in a low voice.
Maria stepped forward. “Everyone, just calm down. Let’s take a minute before anyone starts lobbing accusations.”
“You knew?” Steve had raised his voice.
“You are so fired,” Tony stated. “First Fury and now Coulson. Any more not-dead SHIELD agents we need to know about?”
“That’s not your decision to make, Stark,” Steve told him. “Hill doesn’t work for you. She works for the Avengers and the call’s mine.” He turned his attention to Maria. “Wouldn’t you say, Maria?”
Before she could answer, Natasha moved from her spot surprising Clint. She stopped in front of Phil.
“You fucking bastard,” Natasha said gritting her teeth. She then pulled him into her arms.
Clint saw the shudder of her shoulders and he knew she was struggling not to lose it in front of the room. She stepped back and went to the other side of the room away from Phil. His eyes were still on her when he heard his name.
“Barton.” It was Phil’s voice. “Clint.”
He whipped his head around to Phil, the man he’d loved and thought he’d never see again. Instead of relief and joy, rage surged through Clint. His fists still clenched, he strode over to Phil and swung feeling the warm flesh contact his.
When the red hot anger cleared, Steve was pulling him back and Phil was on the floor.
“You…you…” Clint was breathing hard, furious and hoping Phil would get up so he could hit him again. Instead, his former handler looked up at him as he wiped the blood off his nose with the back of his hand. “My house tomorrow night. Nineteen hundred hours. Be there!”
He jerked away out of Steve’s hold and stormed from the room.
Phil was helped to his feet by Steve.
“Where do you think he’ll dispose of my body if I go?” Phil asked.
Tony handed Phil a handkerchief. “I’d be more worried about what he’d do if you didn’t.”
After wiping the blood away, Phil glanced at Natasha. “Is there anything I need to know ahead of time.”
“It’s not my place to say.”
Natasha left the room and Phil sighed. He hadn’t been surprised by Clint’s reaction. Phil knew little of how Clint spent his time these days. He’d tracked his former asset long enough to make sure he still lived. Knowing that Clint was with the Avengers and recovered from Loki and the loss of SHIELD had made it easier to keep his distance.
“Your pilot is on his way back,” Tony informed him. “I’d rather not have your people showing up here uninvited so you better let them know you didn’t quite make it to Bali.”