Chapter 3
After Maria left to show Phil where he’d be staying, Steve glanced at Tony.
“Think you can take it easy for once?”
“Hey, I’m not the guy that’s been playing zombie for the last three years, seven months…”
“Stop it, Tony,” Steve chastised. “Did you even get a look at Coulson? The man’s been through hell.”
“And the rest of us hasn’t had more than our share of Lifetime movie events? I shouldn’t have to remind you of my murder-bot fiasco or the doomed lovers scenario that Romanov’s going through right now.”
“And did you happen to notice Coulson’s left hand or did that escape your attention while you’ve been pissed at him.” Tony opened his mouth to speak and Steve held up his finger in warning. “Don’t say it, Tony.”
With a huff, Tony nodded. “Fine. Yes, I noticed and no, I don’t care. I’ve lost people, Steve. We both have. The good ones don’t do what Coulson did.”
“During the war, I saw men come back after a hard battle, who’d watched their buddies blown to pieces. Before Bucky…” Steve faltered for a moment. “When I got Bucky back, I saw how tired and haunted he looked after what they did to him. Bucky, these men…all of us, Tony. At one time or another we all had that same look Coulson’s got in his eyes now. Including you. Pepper told me about you after the Chitauri.”
“That might work on me, but you saw Barton. In no way is he interested in sharing a candlelit spaghetti dinner with Coulson in an alley.”
Steve almost smiled. Tony most always used references he understood.
“They’ll work it out or not. We’re not helping things along.”
Tony wasn’t happy with it one bit. He always got involved with things that were none of his business. It was second nature.
“Hey, were you serious about making it snow by Christmas?” Steve asked.
“As long as Mother Nature promises the right temperature, I’ll provide the white stuff.”
“Has anyone ever told you you’re not God, Tony?” Steve started for the door.
“Always and I prove them wrong every single time.”
~*~
With Maria at his side, Phil made the call to Melinda. He wasn’t quite sure whether to be concerned or not when she expressed no surprise at the development. When he pried for details on operations, Melinda wished him a Merry Christmas and hung up on him.
The quarters Phil was taken to appeared far more comfortable than his own. For the last few years, since Fury handed the reins of SHIELD over him, he’d made due with an uncomfortable cot. The main room was a living area with a small kitchen. The bedroom and bath were through another door. His duffle bag had already been delivered.
He grabbed it up and went to the bedroom with Maria following him. Phil set it on the bed and yanked it open. Clint was still foremost in his mind.
“How’s the hand?” Maria asked leaning in the doorframe.
“You noticed? I didn’t think anyone else did.”
“It looks a bit unwieldy. Stark could…”
Phil scoffed before she could finish the sentence.
“If he had his way, he’d call me Agent Hook and I’d have the prosthesis to match.” It wasn’t Tony’s furious face he was seeing. It was the look of utter betrayal on Clint’s.
After emptying the duffle, Phil went to the dresser and opened a drawer.
“Why didn’t you tell them?”
Maria shifted from the doorframe before answering. “You didn’t want them to know.”
“I never said not to tell them,” he reminded her.
“No, but if you had wanted them to know you would’ve done it already.”
She was right and Phil sat on the bed. “Every time I considered it, there was a multitude of reasons not to. SHIELD fell and when Fury gave me the job of director it was a given the more secrecy, the better for us.” He sighed, feeling older than ever. “The directorship should’ve been yours. I had no business accepting it.”
“Jesus, Phil,” Maria said with a shake of her head. “I didn’t want it.” She moved to sit next to him. “Remember when you asked for support and I didn’t give it? You were pissed as hell I walked away.”
“Yes.”
“SHIELD was gone and so many I trusted, people I called friends some who were closer to me than my own family, turned out to be Hydra. Most of those that didn’t wound up dead.” Maria looked away from him and down at her hands. “I wanted as far from it as I could get. Working for Tony Stark did that and I could still do some good with the Avengers. You may not want to hear this, but I’ve never regretted that decision.”
“I’ve made a mess of it, Maria. Be glad you did.”
“Phil, what the hell happened to you?” She leaned closer to him.
Phil stood, unwilling to allow any comfort. He grabbed some shirts off the bed.
“I’m not the Director of SHIELD.”
That’s all Phil could say and as he put his things away, Maria left.
~*~
It was as if he was reliving it all over again. Clint found a spot between the buildings among the storage containers to be alone. He planted his hands on the wall and leaned forward, resting his head against the cement. Closing his eyes, he remembered Loki, the fight with Natasha and in the aftermath crumbling when she told him Phil was dead. The grief and regret tore at him just as sharply now as it did then.
The Clint of old would have put a fist into the cement wall uncaring of the damage. He breathed in and out trying to let go of the rage and pain. Thinking of Riley would always ease his anger, but not this time. Seeing the little boy who called him Daddy, smiled at him as if he held the universe made Clint nearly cry.
He’d do right by Riley. No matter the cost to himself.
Hearing a step, Clint swung around. Natasha stood far enough away to give him the right amount of space. She always knew what he needed.
“Just one question, Clint.”
“You want to know why I told him to come to the house.” She knew him too damn well sometimes.
“This is the worst possible time for you to be noble.”
“Riley is Phil’s.”
“He’s yours!” Clint was surprised by her vehemence. “You have raised and loved Riley as your own since Audrey died!”
“You think this is easy for me! I’d die for him, but he’s not mine and he deserves his father…his real father, Nat!”
“And your real father was a fucking bastard to you and your brother. It takes a helluva lot more than blood to be a father, Clint.”
“Phil deserves to know his son,” Clint said in a low voice.
“No one is saying he doesn’t, but giving Riley to Phil doesn’t make it the right thing to do.”
“Phil was a real bastard for playing dead on us, Tash, but you can’t tell me he would’ve still done it knowing he had a son.” She said nothing. “Tomorrow night, he’ll meet Riley and I’ll tell him everything.”
“Everything, Clint?”
He licked his dry lips and sighed. “As far as Riley’s concerned, yeah. He’s Phil’s son and I’m not standing in his way.”
Natasha walked over to Clint and placed her hands on his cheeks.
“Promise me something.”
“I’ll try,” he whispered.
“You got the shock of your life a few minutes ago and you’re still reeling from it. Don’t make any rash decisions for a while. Give it some time before you do something you’ll regret.”
He nodded. “I’ll try. See if Steve will take over my classes. Kate Bishop can run a few of the weapons drills. I need some time before Phil comes over.”
Natasha kissed his cheek. “Okay.”
“Okay.”
Clint leaned against the wall as Natasha left. He hadn’t changed his mind. He’d need the time to prepare for the inevitable. Riley was Phil’s son and he belonged with his father.
~*~
Feeling drained, Phil had crawled into bed after a hot shower and went immediately to sleep. He woke four times through the night. Two of those were due to nightmares that kept him up and pacing. When 5am rolled around, Phil gave up going back to sleep.
It was an hour later when he found the cantina. With only six days until Christmas, there were only a smattering of trainees and staff left in the facility. Phil grabbed a tray and after considering his choices, he got fruit, an over easy fried egg, piece of toast and coffee. It was a large breakfast for him.
He went to a table in the corner and sat with his back to the wall while keeping an eye on the entrance. Phil stabbed at his eggs when he began calculating escape routes. He had never gotten out of the habit after so many years.
Phil was surprised when Steve sat down in front of him with a tray loaded with two stacks of pancakes, three cartons of milk and four apples.
“Not afraid to be seen with me?” Phil asked with a hint of smile.
“I’m always up for good company,” Steve told him.
Looking away, Phil added jelly to his toast. “Most would disagree, especially me.”
“Do you remember our ride to the hellicarrier?”
“I made a terrible impression when meeting my childhood hero,” Phil admitted.
Steve couldn’t help but smile. “You told me the world needed old-fashioned heroes and what I represented. I never forgot that, sir.”
Phil huffed a laugh. “Just Phil. You outrank me.”
“If you’ll call me Steve.”
Phil nodded and took a sip of coffee.
“I have your cards,” Steve stated. He took a deep breath trying to ignore the stunned look on Phil’s face. “No one ever asked and I just kept them.”
“Are you asking if I want them back?”
“I wasn’t the old fashioned hero, Phil. You were.” Steve set down his fork and leaned forward. “Anyone that’s willing to put his life on the line to save others is a hero. I think that’s why you don’t have both hands. Am I right?”
Phil’s eyes went to the black prosthetic. “It wasn’t enough,” he murmured. He looked up at Steve. “I’m on a forced vacation because I wasn’t being a hero. I went in for entirely personal and vengeful reasons.”
Steve said nothing and Phil wiped his mouth, then set it on the tray. He wasn’t hungry anymore.
“You brought SHIELD down,” Phil told him. “It was compromised and Hydra had to be dragged into the light of day at great personal cost. I know about Barnes and what he meant to you, still means, I think. You didn’t let your desire to save him stand in the way of saving millions of lives. I put lives at risk for vengeance and I didn’t care about the costs. I’m not the man you met on the quinjet. That Phil Coulson is dead.”
Phil picked up his tray and left. Even as tired as he felt, he had the need to work off some energy and a gym was in order. It crossed his mind that he could leave Avengers HQ with little notice. He didn’t need any more reminders of the past no matter how much of it was left undone.
~*~
It was later that afternoon which Phil found Natasha doing her yoga exercises outside near the trees away from the main building. It offered enough privacy that she wouldn’t be bothered or easily found. He still had some spy skills left.
Natasha was on the mat arching her back with leg forward and stretching. She glanced at him out of the corner of her eye as she maneuvered into another position.
“I wondered if you’d find me before I finished.”
“Clint doesn’t have quarters here.”
“Fifteen miles from here is a cute hamlet of a town. Clint bought a house.”
“You wouldn’t mind giving me the address, would you?”
Natasha raised her eyebrow and Phil swore she almost smiled at him.
“What do I have to do?”
“Twice a day,” Natasha stated as she got to her feet. “Six in the morning and three in the afternoon.”
“I’m not up for sparring.”
“You look like shit, Phil.”
“How many times are you going to want to kick my ass for what I did?”
Then she did smile and Phil followed her to a tree where a bottle of water sat. Natasha took a drink.
“I’m over it.”
He was sure he misheard her. “What?”
“I don’t believe in wasted energy,” Natasha simply replied. “Holding onto anger longer than necessary is that.”
Natasha, Phil thought. Practical as always.
“Tai Chi is 6am. Yoga is later. I expect to see you for both.”
“If I agree, you’ll give me Clint’s address.” Phil shook his head. “Doesn’t sound like you’ve gotten over it that much.”
“Phil, consider it a doctor’s order.”
“Fine,” Phil said with resignation. “I’ll be there.”
Victorious, Natasha set the water down and that was when Phil noticed the second mat. She picked it up and tossed it next to hers.
“Get barefoot. I’ll give you Clint’s address after our first session.”
Phil slipped off his shoes and socks, then walked to join Natasha.
“I’d almost forgotten how good your instincts are. You knew I’d come.”
Natasha began with a simple stretch and Phil copied it.
“He’ll shut you out, but don’t let him,” Natasha told him. “If you let him have his way because of some misguided sense of guilt, I will kick your ass.”
“Misguided isn’t the word I’d choose.”
“Phil, if there’s one thing I know about you since the day we met is that mission came first. Guilt was trained out of me in the Red Room, but you taught me when I came to SHIELD that it had a place and a purpose.”
When he mimicked Natasha’s next move, Phil struggled to keep his balance. He felt a bit like Lord of the Dance when he stretched out his arm towards the sky.
“What makes you think my guilt doesn’t have a place and a purpose now?”
“Nicholas Rowe,” Natasha stated keeping her focus. “He said, ‘guilt is the source of sorrows, the avenging fiend that follows us behind with whips and stings’. It compels us to move forward and make right when it is within our power. Remember?”
Phil thought back to the conversation he’d had with her upon their first meeting when Clint had brought her to SHIELD. It had been key in Natasha’s decision to remain with them.
“You won’t get anywhere with Clint if allow your guilt to get in the way.”
“You’re not going to tell me the reason why he wants to see me, are you?”
Natasha turned her head slightly as she eased into another pose. Not another word was said as Phil mirrored her.