Marked

Marked

Chapter 8—Too much information

Disclaimer: I do not own the Avengers. They belong to Marvel/Disney.

Physical therapy. More like torture. Coulson needed it, though. He was weak, couldn't really use his left arm, and he didn't want the others seeing him like that. Except Clint Barton was his current babysitter, and considering all the times they'd done this for each other, it was just one more round. Granted an injury this bad hadn't happened in a long time, but the two SHIELD agents had an unspoken agreement, along with Natasha, that they were there for each other through thick and thin. Coulson was hurting like hell, and wasn't going to ask for anything for pain. He could tough it out. Maybe. He'd try, but he was distracted by the thoughts in his head and the book he was trying to read.

He stuffed the book under his pillow. He was not explaining "50 Shades of Gray" to Steve Rogers. Coulson considered losing the bet he made with his sister. $20 was a small price to pay for not finishing the book. Or he could use it as an opportunity to teach Darcy about finishing what one started. She'd say it was a lesson in suffering and stupidity. Five chapters in and all he really wanted to do was pawn the book off on somebody else and crack the cover on the WWII book Pepper brought him, or the book of military essays she'd included. Or the Sookie Stackhouse novels Natasha had thoughtfully provided. Banner and Stark gave him the entire "Game of Thrones" series of books and DVD seasons, and of course, "Supernanny."

Hill brought him reports to read and Sitwell kept him in the loop with unofficial news from headquarters. Fury dropped by every couple of days to see how he was doing and talk about the future. Then there was one Steve Rogers. He talked about baseball, or asked questions Coulson didn't mind answering. The agent felt flustered sometimes around the younger man. Not because he was Captain America, but because he was getting the chance to learn more about someone he'd never even thought he'd meet.

And now, Rogers was standing in the doorway to his room, leaning against the frame, leather jacket thrown over his shoulder, with a questioning look on his face.

"What?" Rogers asked, catching the other man staring.

"Nothing," Coulson said. "Just tired."

"Want me to leave?" Rogers said.

"No," Coulson said. "I don't mind having you here."

"Why are you hiding a book under your pillow?" Rogers said.

"Tired of reading it," Coulson answered.

"Then don't read it anymore," Rogers said, sitting down.

"I'll lose a bet," Coulson said. "And miss the chance to teach Darcy a lesson."

"A lesson about what?" Rogers said.

"Perseverance," Coulson said.

"I don't think she needs any lessons in that," Rogers said. "When she has such a good example in you."

"One should finish what they start," Coulson said.

"Yeah, but sometimes you have to know when to surrender," Rogers said. "What's wrong with the book?"

"For your own well-being, do not ask me to explain," Coulson said.

"If you don't tell me, I'll just ask Clint. Or Natasha. Or Tony. He'll be happy to explain at length, and in very gory detail," Rogers said.

"It's a romance novel," Coulson said. "I'm not finishing it. I'll give it back to Darcy, and I'll pay her double just to get rid of it."

"There's nothing wrong with romance," Rogers said.

"'Romance' is what it is, technically, I guess, but that's still not an appropriate description," Coulson said.

"My definition of 'romance' and the modern version are completely different concepts," Rogers said. "I can accept that, but. . ."

"I told you, do not ask," Coulson said. "You will not like what you hear. It involves handcuffs. Please tell me you understand that reference."

Rogers blushed. "I do understand it," he said. "Natasha had to explain "something Tony said to Bruce, and it, uh, had something to do with handcuffs and being tied up. . .on one hand, I can appreciate Tony's openness and honesty, but there are some things I wouldn't mind if he kept to himself. Bruce was right—Tony's brain/mouth filter is broken."

"I don't think he ever had one," Coulson said.

"Tact is not one of his virtues," Rogers said. "Then again, he wouldn't be Tony."

"No, he wouldn't," Coulson said, yawning.

"Get some sleep, Phil. I'll be here when you wake up," Rogers said.

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Rogers was trying to sneak the book out from under Coulson's pillow when Darcy entered the room.

"What are you doing?" she demanded. "Don't wake him."

"I'm trying not to," Rogers said. "I just want to see the book he won't show me."

"What did he say about it?" Darcy asked.

"For my own well-being, I shouldn't ask," Rogers said.

"You should trust my brother," Darcy said, stepping around Rogers and pulling the book out from under her sleeping brother's pillow. "You'll be scarred for life."

"It can't be that bad," Rogers said.

"I'm taking it back," Darcy said, pulling back the flap on her satchel, dropping the book inside.

"He'll pay you double for taking it away," Rogers said.

"Phil said that?"

"Yes," Rogers said. "How did it go with Bruce and Tony?"

"They couldn't agree on anything except getting even with Fury," Darcy said. "They were talking science when I left. God, I only understood about half of what they said but damn if it wasn't one of the hottest things I've ever seen."

Rogers raised an eyebrow, like he was pondering her sanity or something. Darcy patted him on the head. "C'mon Captain, I need a coffee run and some company," she said.