Tell Me
A week had passed since Phil found out that his long lost son was actually kidnapped by HYDRA and abused all these years, turned into an assassin and forced to kill. If Phil was being honest with himself, he was terrified of telling Alan the truth - would he hate his father for not saving him? For giving up? Phil did not want to stop searching for Alan, but the video had convinced the oldest Coulson that his son was, indeed, dead. Despite that, he kept searching for years until Nick was convinced that it was time to move on but never forget. So, Phil felt guilty - guilty that he couldn’t protect his son in the first place, guilty that he could not save him afterwards, guilty that he gave up. Clint shared similar notions - after all, Clint was there when Alan was kidnapped. The entire ordeal was not easy on the rest of the Coulson family, Melinda spent days watching her son pace in the containment room he was placed in, and she was often joined by Nat and Grant. Even Skye, who was only five when Alan disappeared, was dealing with a wave of different emotions that the eighteen-year-old could not quite comprehend.
Therefore, it goes without saying that none of the Coulsons really had the courage to approach the teen and that him that he was a Coulson too - which was slightly ironic, as they had faced danger far more worrisome than an upset teenager, even if the said teenager was an enhanced and basically enslaved HYDRA agent kidnapped as a baby. In the family’s defence, Alan had not exactly been friendly towards them either, sending them glares that made both the Avengers and SHIELD Agents think they were enemies sent to kill him. He was kept in isolation for a week, without any visitors, and with every second that the observers spent watching him, they became more and more unnerved.
Any person in Alan’s place would be panicking, or at least worried, trying to find a way out of the situation. However, that being said, most people did not spend their entire lives as brainwashed assassins working for a terrorist organisation. Alan worked out daily, slept in his cot (no more than two hours at a time, which worried his parents, not that he knew that), ate whatever he was given without question, and spent the remainder of his free time smiling coldly at the camera in the corner of the room. Doctor Cho was not wrong, he never hesitated to give out information that could be valuable for the destruction of HYDRA and the inhibition of their plans, but that did not mean that he was not hostile and sceptic of the people around him. The fact that he was left alone for the week, other than the questions about HYDRA here and there, obviously did not help to diffuse the atmosphere.
Of course, Phil did not mean to leave his son in isolation for seven days, but he could not help his panic. Who knew what the poor teen went through over the last thirteen years? Phil knew that, logically, he should take his son out of isolation or at the very least, man up and talk to him, but he was scared. He faced aliens and gods and all kinds of terrifying deities without a second thought, but the idea of talking to his teenage son absolutely petrified him. There were so many questions with no answers, and all Phil could do was think about them and talk them over with his family.
It really was not until Nick had finally had enough and shouted at Phil - “I swear to God, Phillip Coulson, if you do not go over there and talk to your SON right now, I will lock you AND him in there until the two of you HUG IT OUT!” - that he (not so) willingly decided to make a move. So, there he was, seven days after the whole incident, entering the room where his son was held, all of his other children and his wife watching them through the camera.
Phil closed the door behind himself, hesitating momentarily before sitting in the chair situated in the middle of the room. Alan, who had been in the process of working out, made no motion towards the director, continuing his set of pushups. Phil had to admit - his son was in exemplary form, probably in better form than the greater part of SHIELD Specialists, and they were all in top shape. Phil pushed the thought of recruiting the teen for SHIELD and focused on his son. His Alan. Watching the teen up close gave him the opportunity to truly appreciate the similarities - the colour of Alan’s hair was so similar to his own, the icy cold of the teen’s baby blue eyes resembling his, Clint’s and Nat’s as well. Phil looked at Alan and finally saw his son, not the one who was recruited by HYDRA but the one that he lost thirteen years ago. His son, who was barely fourteen and had already been through more than most adults go through in their entire lives, even at SHIELD. Phil spent almost thirty minutes watching his son do his own thing (because that’s not creepy at all, Phil), Alan paying close to no attention whatsoever to his father. Once the teen finished his set, he dried himself off with a towel that had been provided and took a seat across from the other man, smirking once again.
The two sat in silence for a few moments, maintaining eye contact. Alan draped the sweaty towel over his shoulder and leaned in, placing his elbows on his knees, grinning while looking the older Coulson in the eye.
“So, Coulson, is there anything else you want to ask me before I get sent away to the Fridge?” The question was phrased nonchalantly, and Alan seemed like he could not care less about being sent away, but Phil thought that there was more to it. Then again, why would the kid think he wasn’t going to be sent away? It was not a big surprise that Alan knew his name - he was very well known (and hated) amongst the different terrorist organisations that SHIELD fought against. Phil was more concerned by the mention of the Fridge - the SHIELD detainment and storage facility at a classified location - no one outside of SHIELD was supposed to know about its existence. Shaking off the feeling of surprise and mirroring the younger Coulson’s pose, Phil similarly leaned in, eyeing his son.
“Tell me, what makes you think that you will be sent away?”
The question seemed to have caught Alan off guard, although he tried to cover it up, his head tipping back in laughter… The laugh was so different from the childish giggle that Phil remembered. “Now, you do not have to lie to me, Coulson. You do not need to trick me into trusting you so that I give you more information - I may be fourteen, but I was raised at HYDRA. I know how these agencies operate, the exchange of information for the promise of freedom or security or immunity, or whatever other kind of bullshit you-”
Alan’s rant was cut off as he noticed a change in Phil’s expression - it seemed as though the older man was on the verge of telling Alan off for swearing. Phil noticed the change and mentally facepalmed - he was the director of a spy agency, and he could not even interrogate his son without messing up.
Alan laughed again, a sly smirk plastered on his face, his eyes glinting in understanding. “So, it is true then?”
Phil internally cursed himself for what felt like the millionth time that day, having a pretty solid idea of the hint his son had dropped but not willing to show it.
“What is true, agent?”
Alan kept on the brave facade, leaning in even closer, looking the older man right in the eyes. “The stern glare you shot my way when I swore, the way you almost told me off for the language - the rumours are true.” The kid chuckled, relishing in his own understanding. “The big bad boss from SHIELD is a dad. The infamously cold Phil Coulson has children. HYDRA knew Nick Fury had a son, but they had only heard speculations about your family. So, who is it, Coulson? Hawkeye? The Black Widow? Maybe both of them, they do work together remarkably well. And the third one - the one with them during my last mission. The specialist under John Garrett, he must be another one of yours - although he does not look like you as much as the other two.” Alan leaned back, satisfied with himself. One slip and he was able to find out more about the other man’s family than HYDRA was able to in years.
Phil sighed, not denying the information. After all, the kid would find out anyways - he was also his child, after all - not that the feisty teen knew that yet. Might as well tell him. “You’re right - I am a father. Hawkeye, Clint, is my eldest. Black Widow, Natasha, is my daughter. Grant, the “specialist” that you mentioned, is another one of my sons. Skye, my second youngest, is currently a cadet in the Academy.” Phil paused, eyeing the kid in front of him. No doubt the young teen had done the math and knew there was one more child that Phil had not mentioned yet, but for whatever reason, the teen did not push it. “I have told you about me, and it seems only fair you tell me about yourself. You told us a lot about HYDRA, and the information was very valuable - so thank you for that -but nothing about yourself. I am interested in how you were trained; if there are other young agents like you….”
Alan thought for a moment before shrugging, figuring that it would not do harm at this point.
“I never had a name. As a kid, I was called the “Black Spider”, and the name stuck. I think that the earliest memory that I have of my training is waking up in my room with three people standing next to my cot - two HYDRA goons and a certain Daniel Whitehall. I had just turned three, or so they said. Whitehall said I was the perfect age for their new project, and I did not know what he meant at the time. He injected me with a serum, telling me that I was different, stronger than others. The serum made me stronger, faster, and more agile - but I was the only one who survived - the other toddlers died before the age of four. Most of them weren’t able to withstand the serum; others couldn’t pass the training.”
Alan stopped talking for a second, his eyes glazed over, lost in the memories, trapped in a nightmare. Phil waited patiently, knowing that there was so much that the younger of the two wasn’t showing. It pained his heart to think that his son was unable to let go of the facade, knowing fully well that it wasn’t his fault, and that Alan was unaware that he had a family he could trust.
Phil hesitated, before asking another question. “Do you remember your family - life before HYDRA?”
Alan shook his head, letting out another cold chuckle. It was obvious that he was only doing so to hide the pain the question caused. “Coulson, I grew up at HYDRA - what do you think? I never knew my birthday, heck, I don’t even know my real name. I have no friends and no family - both are considered a weakness. If you care about them more than you care about the mission, they are a weakness. All I know is that I am about fourteen years old, and was basically born into HYDRA, or have been there since a very young age. We knew better than to ask our handlers.” Alan stopped talking, clenching his fist in anger. He was still a kid, he did not deserve all of this. “You told me that Skye is your second youngest. So who is the youngest?”
Phil took a deep breath, trying to muster the courage he needed to tell his son the truth. “My wife, Melinda Qiaolian May-Coulson, another SHIELD agent, gave birth to our fifth and youngest child, Alan, in 2005. Unfortunately, he was kidnapped in 2006 when we went to the mall for an outing. We spent years searching for him, until HYDRA sent me a video of his death.” Phil detached himself from the situation, the memories being all too painful. Alan looked uncomfortable, but understanding started dawning on his face. Phil’s voice turned to pleading as he uttered his next words. “I swear, I searched for him everywhere, but that video… I thought he was dead. Except…” Phil looked his son in the eye, unable to continue.
Alan gulped in anticipation, already putting the pieces together. “What are you saying, Coulson?”
“I am sorry, kid. I am so, so sorry we did not find you sooner.” Phil pleaded with his son, asking him for forgiveness.
Alan paled, crossing his arms over his chest in an attempt to comfort himself. “So, I am…”
Phil nodded shakily. “My son. Alan Reid Coulson.”