Reveal Nothing
While he’s still convalescing, Fury stops by, just long enough to see how he’s doing. It feels odd, seeing his boss again after half a year of trying to save him, two years trying to kill him, and two and a half years wondering where the hell he’d gone and whether he was even still alive.
(Phil expects to have a similar reaction when he sees Clint, who Nat claims is alive and well and living under Loki’s roof like the rest of them. But he prefers to deal with one thing at a time.)
When Fury enters the room, Phil plasters on his noncommittal smile and they nod at each other, hold each other’s gaze for a moment. That’s all. They don’t bother with codes, and they’ve never cared for meaningless pleasantries; it’s enough to know that they’re both alive.
A few days later, when he’s finally well enough to join the group for dinner, he gets to see Fury again. They sit across from each other; Fury’s flanked by Clint and Natasha, so that Phil can see all of them without having to twist his still-healing abdomen. Their conversation stays harmless: the meal, their surroundings, Phil’s recovery prospects and the need for physical therapy for his left hand, which is still a bit weak after his near-death experience. Nothing they say is anything Loki could use, if he were even paying attention (which Phil assumes he is).
There are things that Phil would love to tell his former boss. What it’s been like, out there on the front. Maria’s pragmatism, Stark’s ingenuity, Captain America’s surprising adaptability and his courage—up until they’d lost track of him in DC. How often Phil has kept his cool only because of the lessons Fury taught him.
How hard it’s been to pull their forces together without Fury to put a boot up their ass.
But they’re on Loki’s turf now, and Phil can’t trust a word Fury says. Fury was compromised for at least two years, and even if he’s managed to break free—or been released—they know the rules when you’re behind enemy lines. You don’t spill intel that the enemy might use.
Which doesn’t mean they can’t enjoy a little time together. Among other surprising amenities, the gym has a racquetball court, so he and Fury start enjoying regular sessions there. At first, Phil sticks to his uninjured hand, and they take it slow; once Clint is satisfied with his progress, he begins to use his left hand for a few minutes a day, trying not to overdo it.
They spend time in the hot tub, and the steam room. It’s nice; in fact, it’s been so long since Phil was able to relax in company that he starts to relish that silence.
Before too long, of course, Loki heads off to the front again and Fury gets Phil started on the perimeter checks, looking for any little chink in the armor. Because as nice as it might be in here, there are still people dying on the outside, and neither of them is the sort to just sit down and let things sort themselves out.