To Love Is To Destroy

Chapter 14

“I take it that the base meets with your exacting scrutiny?” Phil said, his arms folded as Stefan finished his tour. Stefan gave a silent sigh, knowing that he’d brought the hostility onto himself; it didn’t stop him from being…tired.

Tired of the fighting, the backbiting, the commentary. To be fair, he’d waltzed in here – and Phil was right, they weren’t doing anything overtly illegal. Yes, they were SHIELD. Yes, they had weaponry, but from their operation reports, they’d acquired it back from the ones who’d taken it, or constructed it themselves. He looked over Agent Simmons’ lab once more and then turned to regard Phil.

They’d been here for four days. Natasha had gone about recovering Clint’s clothing and equipment with the intent of squirreling the archer to an Avengers base instead. Doctor Marks had protested. Natasha wouldn’t be swayed. The bickering had reached a level where Phil had come out of his office for the first time in days to quell both sides with a look.

Sam had stepped in to mediate from there, talking Natasha out of bringing Clint with them immediately. The logic was that the Playground was as safe as he was going to get – especially considering the hearing aids that Agent Simmons was developing for him would only make him more effective, and he needed more time to recover as it was. When Stefan was satisfied there wouldn’t be another fight, he’d gone looking for Phil only to find he was gone again.

Stefan had a feeling he was being avoided. He had barely seen the Director at all, save for a brief appearance at meal times to collect a plate of whatever was on offer before retreating. Skye had latched onto Stefan, whispering furiously that he shouldn’t take this as normal. Apparently, there were team building game nights when the Avengers weren’t around.

He tried not to let the little coal of jealousy get a spark, but he remembered what Phil had been like before. It was like being doused with cold water all over again to watch Phil give his team quiet words and then pass by without a glance at the Avengers sprawled around the mess hall. This wasn’t the Phil Coulson he’d known.

He’d been…excited to see Stefan. Enthusiastic.

Now, though, Phil seemed eager to get them out of his hair. Perhaps he’d never known Phil at all – but the words on his arm and his own memories told him that this wasn’t the case. Phil was hurting too. The destruction of SHIELD had to cut deep, and the forced rebuild took most of his attention if not his energy.

Stefan wondered if Phil had a mark too. All these questions did was spawn more questions and he realized he hadn’t answered Phil yet – the Director’s face was pinched with stress and Stefan chided himself.

“Everything looks in order,” he said. “Though I’m not really sure I can say that, given I don’t know what daily operations for SHIELD looks like anymore. I did, at one point.”

“SHIELD’s focus now is on defense and containment – we don’t know who HYDRA’s released. Carl Creel has been contained, but he’s only one of many.” Phil swallowed, and Stefan watched the bob of his Adam’s apple. “We’re just lucky the base in the Arctic was safe – Blonsky getting out is not high on my list of things I’d like to see happen.”

Stefan nodded. “We can see about rounding up any that get loose.”

“This is my mess, Captain. I’ll clean it up.” Phil’s voice was quiet between them and Stefan wanted to breach the distance somehow. This wasn’t how things should be. This man had been a friend to the Avengers in the past. He was doing his duty.

Stefan also knew that his duty involved a HYDRA plant in the basement.

It was one thing to want to remember Phil as a good man. When he’d died, it had been easy. Now, this tired, beaten man in front of him was making choices that weren’t easy to recover from. Stefan’s brows drew down in a frown, and Phil echoed his action, looking as though he’d read Stefan’s train of thought.

“There’s nothing wrong with asking for help, Phil.”

“Captain.” Phil took a deep breath. “I’m not inclined to ask for help from a man who was ready to walk in here and shut me down. SHIELD is recovering. I’m recruiting again. The ABC agencies can’t take all of my agents.”

Phil ran his hand along the metal of the table, his fingers twitching. Stefan wondered if it was a tic or if that was normal. He realized…he didn’t know.

He didn’t know Phil Coulson at all.

“I’ve got to keep moving. Despite your assertion that SHIELD is corrupt and unnecessary, you know you need us. You and Stark can’t keep these threats contained, despite your considerable accomplishments.” Phil fixed him with his gaze. Stefan found those blue-grey eyes locked with his, as Phil almost seemed to will him to understand.

Stefan opened his mouth but let it close after a long moment. Phil, despite the bitterness in his voice, had a point. They had no plan other than stopping a threat by beating it into submission. He and Tony weren’t killers by nature. Natasha would do what needed to be done, and he had faith that Clint would do that, too. Doctor Banner was tormented by the people he’d hurt already. Thor was a warrior, and was no stranger to death, but he would not grant an enemy an unclean passing.

The shades of gray Phil talked about were edging into his life whether he liked it or not.

Phil didn’t look like he enjoyed winning the argument.

“I wish this were easier,” Phil said. “But we’re not easy people. We have conviction, and we have drive. Our goals aren’t different. Our methods are. I want SHIELD to be what it was created to be. Something to protect people from what’s out there.”

“Why?” Stefan asked.

He wasn’t sure if it was a ‘why you’ or a ‘why SHIELD’ but he stilled as Phil slowly rolled up the left sleeve of his shirt. Stefan’s mouth went dry. The only sound save his own breathing was the rustle of the fabric. The bandage covering Phil’s wrist loosened; the unrolling seemed to slow time for just a moment.

“I would think you would know why,” Phil said. His voice was quiet, waiting for judgment. Stefan stared at his name, written across Phil’s wrist plain as day. He reached out to touch, rubbing with his thumb as though to smear the letters. Instead the touch galvanized him like he’d come home.

Stefan sucked in a breath. He wanted to lock his hand around Phil’s wrist, bury his face in the crook of Phil’s neck and shoulder. This feeling – he wanted to wallow in it. He had the urge to get as close as he possibly could to Phil, strip them both skin to skin right there in the lab. It was like nothing he’d ever felt before.

From the look on Phil’s face, he hadn’t expected it either.

“Phil.”

“Captain. Please let go of me.”

Stefan released Phil’s wrist. His reluctance must have shown in his face, because Phil hurriedly wrapped his arm.

“We’re not…different,” Phil said. “But you should know. I’m not going to give up on this. My work’s not done. I don’t think it’ll ever be done. Please understand.”

“You don’t want this,” Stefan said, threads of despair and hurt working its way through his voice.

“It’s not that,” Phil said.

“Then what is it?” Stefan snapped. “You knew. How long?”

“I think I always did,” Phil said.

Where Stefan was stiff anger and hurt, Phil was resigned patience. It was infuriating in the worst way. Stefan had been lost for so long, adrift in the wake of Patricia, in the wake of Bucky, and yes – in the wake of SHIELD.

“How long,” Stefan ground out.

“A while.”

“Your wrist?”

“Not until recently. I wished. Harder than most. But I guess the time wasn’t right.” Phil gave him a significant look and Stefan realized then that the soul mark taking so long to appear had been his own doing.

Patricia rose up like a specter between them, and Stefan took a step back as though he’d been dealt a physical blow.

“I don’t—”

“I know you didn’t,” Phil said. “I also don’t begrudge you happiness.”

He took a deep breath.

“I was sixteen.”

Stefan leaned hard on the table. “Sixteen.”

“I wanted to get to know you, to learn about you. I figured what was the harm in it? I’d never meet you.” Phil dropped his eyes to Jemma’s workstation, not looking at Stefan. Stefan wanted to drag his eyes up, make him look, but he didn’t dare reach for him again.

He wouldn’t let him go.

“We need to—”

The chirp of his comm interrupted him and he swore softly.

“It’s Tony.” He answered. “What is it, Tony?”

“We need you, Widow and Falcon back here ASAP. There’s a problem.”

“Want to elaborate?”

“Busy!” There was the muffled sound of repulsor fire and Stefan swore again. “Is Hawkeye there?”

“He’s not fit for duty yet,” Stefan said. Phil kept silent. Whether this was a fit of pique or respect for Avengers business, Stefan couldn’t tell. “He’s safe for the moment, though.”

“Damn. Could have used him. All right. You three get here.” The line went dead, and Stefan made a sour face. He glanced at Phil.

“This isn’t over, not by a long shot,” he said.

“I imagine it isn’t,” Phil said. “But your team needs you, and that’s more important.”

“No,” Stefan said, as he moved for the door. “It really isn’t.”

Jemma checked Leo’s vitals once more, as she did every day. She let her thumb linger over the pulse in his wrist. Closing her eyes, she tried to will him into waking up, as scientifically unsound as it was. She knew better, but that didn’t stop the attempt.

Someone cleared their throat, and she jumped.

Jemma whirled to see Director Coulson standing in the doorway.

“Sir.”

“You looked like you were thinking really hard,” he said. “Penny for your thoughts.”

“Just…just the one thought, really, sir,” she said softly.

“He’s doing okay?” Phil asked, nodding toward Leo’s sleeping form.

“No change.” Jemma moved to offer Phil one of the chairs. She took the other. “The hardest part of a coma is waking.”

“Yeah,” Phil said. “That I know.”

He took her hand, gently. She realized too late that it was her left, and she’d not worn the cover. Phil didn’t seem surprised, he merely turned it over, the letters there in stark relief.

“You knew?”

“I guessed,” he said. He lifted his own sleeve and showed her the bandage. “It’s…hard for you, I’m sure.”

“I don’t even know if I—” She looked down. “I’m sorry sir, this isn’t your concern.”

“Jemma.” She looked up at him, and he squeezed her hand. “It’s bothering you. It’s my concern.”

She nodded, pushing her hair back over her ears. “When we were trapped underwater. He…he kissed me. I know he cares very much for me.”

Phil reached into his jacket and pulled out a handkerchief. Jemma hadn’t even realized the tears had slipped out, and she blotted at her eyes.

“I’m just. Not like other people.”

Phil waited, letting her gather her thoughts. He was a patient man, she’d found, so long as their lives weren’t in danger.

“I’m not a…I’m not normal.” She swallowed. “I’m asexual.”

Phil pursed his lips. “Jemma, that’s normal. Your orientation has never been a concern for SHIELD. Being asexual is normal.”

She shook her head. “But Fitz—”

Phil clasped her hand. “Jemma. I want you to understand. What you’re going through is normal. You’re normal.”

She dabbed at her eyes again. “But what happens when he wakes up?”

“That’s a discussion you two are going to have.”

Jemma swallowed. “I’ve never met anyone like me. It’s never seemed important until now.”

Phil smiled, wrapping his arm around her. “It’s all right. Things will work themselves out.”

Tucked into Phil’s side, Leo asleep in the bed before them, Jemma could only hope that was the case. She put her head on the Director’s shoulder and tried not to think for a while.

“What did you do ?” Stefan snapped, his shield absorbing the shock of the drone in front of him.

“We were testing it!” Tony yelled, his voice tinny as the suit’s speakers processed it. “It somehow slipped the failsafes we had in place.”

“We?!” Bruce yelled. He had taken cover, and was frantically attempting to reroute ULTRON’s nimrods. “I told you that the chassis looked good!”

“I don’t care who started it right now,” Stefan snarled, slicing one of the nimrod’s arms off. “What matters right now is that we contain this!”

“We can’t, not without more backup,” Natasha called.

“Rhodey’s en route to give us some cover fire,” Tony said. His repulsors whined loud as he overloaded a nimrod, leaving its head a smoking hole. It made it hard to hear him over the din of combat. “If we can get hold of Thor—”

“Thor’s in Asgard!” Stefan belted another nimrod.

“We’ll try and raise him, I’m sure Heimdall can—”

“Where’s Hawkeye?”

“He’s not recovered yet. Had a bad run in with HYDRA.”

“This is bad.”

“I know, Tony.”

“This is really bad.”

Stefan grit his teeth. “I know, Tony. I’m calling a retreat for now, so we can regroup.”

“Where?”

“I know where.” Natasha detonated a small EMP on her belt, taking out four nimrods. “The tower isn’t safe. I have a bolthole.”

“Big surprise there.”

“Keep it up, Stark, and I won’t let you come.”

“See, that’s a hostile work environment,” Tony said, tearing the head off another nimrod.

“Nature of the job.” She bolted for the Quin, Tony grabbing Bruce under the arms and hauling him out of there.

Stefan moved back last, keeping an eye on the swarm of nimrods. There was no sign of the two strange kids who’d shown up at the early part of the battle, but as he jogged up the ramp of the Quin, he couldn’t see them in the pall of battlefield smoke.

He couldn’t help that now; they’d evacuated the city and would lead the nimrods off. Sam landed at the ramp, and they were up and away before the swarm of nimrods could regroup and follow.

“So you’re leaving,” Phil said. Clint nodded, his quiver attached to his belt at his hip. He was buckling his harness, prepping for the trip. “You’ll keep me updated?”

“That I don’t know about,” he said. He tapped his ears, where the hearing aids rested. “Thanks for these, though. They’ll help quite a bit.”

“You’re welcome,” Phil said, clapping Clint on the shoulder. “Be safe.”

“Not a chance. You remember Budapest.”

“My liver remembers the aftermath. You bruised it when we fell off that building.”

Clint grinned.

“I do have a favor before you go,” Phil said. “Something you’re uniquely qualified to talk about.”

“Me?” Clint asked.

“Mhm. I’ve asked Jemma to my office, and I figure that this is something you can do to repay her for the hearing aids.”

“Sure.” Clint nodded. “Melinda’s still getting the Quin ready. I got some time.”

“Hey,” Clint said, squatting down next to the couch where Jemma was sitting. She looked at him with big brown eyes, the redness there one he’d seen a lot and couldn’t stand in anyone, let alone someone who looked so vulnerable. “Bossman said you might need some perspective. So. Uh, I guess I’m here to help. You have any idea who I am?”

She nodded. “Agent Barton. Codenamed Hawkeye. You’re tacked on to the Avengers now.”

“Damn right,” he said, grinning at her. She was curled up on herself, like a little pill bug, her wrist pressed to her sternum protectively. “So, you gonna show me?”

She shook her head. “Doesn’t matter.”

“Sure it does. Soul mates’re a powerful thing,” he said. “Wanna see mine?”

She swallowed, looking wary, but nodded. He rolled up his sleeve, revealing a leather armguard, commonly used for archery. When he stripped it off, Jemma could see that the skin was pale where the rest of him was tanned and robust. The words Bobbi Morse were written in blocky letters across the inside of his left wrist, scrolling over the delicate blue veins just beneath his skin.

“H-have you found them?” she asked. He shook his head. “But a private investigator—”

“Wouldn’t be any fun,” Clint replied with a grin. “Those leeches’ll try’n tell you anything for a quick buck. It’ll happen when it happens. But you know what? I’m gonna trust that they’ll like me for me, and that means alla me.”

“What do you mean?” she asked.

“Well,” Clint said, rubbing the back of his neck. “Bossman said you had a particular situation. I’m pretty familiar with this one. I’m ace, too.”

“Really?” she asked, perking. “I didn’t…”

“Think there were more of us?” he asked, smiling. “Well, I guess you can call me a man of many awesome ‘a’s. Avenger, archer, agent of SHIELD, and ace.”

There was a crack in the armor as she smiled, and Clint couldn’t help but smile back.

“So,” he said. “You gonna show me?”

Slowly, she lowered her arm so that he could see her wrist. There, written in curly cue letters, was the name Leopold Fitz. Clint took her hand solemnly, calloused thumbs tracing over her soul mark.

“You know him?” he asked. She nodded. “You like him?”

“He’s very dear to me,” she said softly. “I’d die to keep him safe.”

“He good to you?” Clint asked, fixing her with a gaze she was sure was the last thing a lot of people saw, and she hurried to nod. “So…why the tears, darlin’?”

“Because he’s not…like me,” she whispered. “And he wouldn’t understand.”

“You know that for sure? From what Bossman tells me, you two’re thick as thieves. You think he wouldn’t drop everything if he thought you needed him?”

“That’s not it,” she said. “I don’t…want to have…you know.”

“I know,” he said. “And he might?”

She nodded, feeling miserable.

“Tell you what,” he said. “You’re a scientist. So’s he. Maybe it’s not so much him wanting to, but him not understanding. You’re gonna have to talk to him. An’ I know it’s scary, but you’re the one in control here. You know that soul mates are special. But they’re not the be-all, end-all.”

She swallowed. “Empirically, that’s correct. But…it’s hard to be detached about this.”

“No one’s askin’ you to,” he said. “Your heart’s a lot different from your brain, but both’re in the right place. Hell, I screw up a lot, but I’ve found that if I do what I can to make it right, I get by okay.”

She smiled.

“See, how could he say no to that? I’m pretty sure I fell in love with you ten minutes ago.”

She pinked, and he grinned, squeezing her wrist before he let her go. She sagged onto the couch and he climbed up to settle in.

“Soul mates come and go. And they ain’t always romantic,” he said, rubbing his own wrist. “I had a name on my wrist years and years ago, but…he didn’t love me back like he should’ve. His name was Barney.”

She reached out and put her hand in his. Clint, almost caught in a memory, looked up.

“Sorry,” he said. “Did I help at all?”

“You did,” she said. “Do…do all soulmate bonds hurt so much?”

“Only if you let them,” he said. “And sometimes they don’t even have to be soul mate bonds. Did you ever get to meet Nat?”

“Agent Romanoff?” she asked, her voice hushed. “No, never.”

“Well, let me tell you. She and I ain’t soul mates, but we’re the closest thing to it without actually bein’ it, or at least it is with me,” he said. “Nat…she keeps me level. She’s got my back, an’ I got hers. Always will.”

She smiled. “Sounds like Fitz and I.”

“Might be,” he said. “She’s also someone I could see myself fallin’ in love with. Did, for a while there. She’s good people, when you dig deep enough. But we’re best as friends. I think we both saw that. But she’ll say jump an’ I’ll be ten feet in the air before I ask her how high, b’cause I love her.”

“Really?” she asked.

“Oh, yeah. She does the thing, y’know, where she looks at you and you know you f****d up. And she always tells me ‘Ваша голова у тебя в заднице снова, Бартон.’”

“I don’t speak Russian,” she said. “Sorry.”

“Nah, it’s okay,” he said. “S’funnier in Russian. It translates to ‘Barton, your ass and your mouth have switched places again.’”

Jemma started to laugh, and so did he, a warm rich sound that echoed a little against the bunker’s stone wall. She laughed hard, a belly laugh that released all the tension from her. After a moment, she settled, and took the bottle of water he offered her.

She swallowed half of it down before she spoke again. “Is it okay to want to love him, but…to not want that? Or even want to be involved with him romantically? He’s…he’s my best friend, and I don’t think I could be anything more.”

“Sure it is, and if this Fitz guy is as good as you’re tellin’ me he is, he’ll understand.”

She nodded. “I hope so.”

“If not, you come see ol’ Hawkeye and he’ll set him straight.” Clint nodded. “B’sides, I’ll bet he’s really just wanting to be with you.”

“I hope so.” She dabbed at her eyes with her handkerchief, and Clint pulled her into a hug. “We both tried to die for each other last year.”

“So I hear,” he said. “You hopped right out of a plane, without a second thought. That takes a lot of guts. Or a lot of being hit in the head. That’s my excuse, anyway. Concussions for Christmas.”

She smiled up at him.

“I should…I should go and visit him in sickbay,” she said. “He’s probably bored out of his skull.”

“You should. And tell him I’m glad he pulled through okay,” Clint said, giving her hand a final squeeze.

“I will,” she said, and hurried from the office. Phil poked his head in, and Clint stood, stretching the kink from his back.

“Good work, Barton,” he said.

“Well, I learned from the best, sir,” he said, glancing at him. “You made a good call.”

“I do that, from time to time,” he said. “Now I gotta Quin to catch.”

“We’ll drop you off and maintain watch. Did Romanoff tell you what you were up against?”

Clint shook his head. “She’s hiding out at the Farm, though.”

“The Farm?” Phil frowned. “We haven’t used that place in—”

“Almost a decade, yeah.” Clint looked sober. “Figure we’ll find out exactly what we’ve got when I get there.”

Phil nodded. “Stay safe.”

“As safe as we get.”

Stefan split logs.

There was something soothing about it, something vital that made him feel alive. He looked at the farm around him, wiping sweat off his brow. The place was rustic, without even a telephone line anymore. That was one thing about it; there wasn’t a way for ULTRON to track them here.

Tony’s suit was a closed system, and Natasha had switched the Quin off as soon as she’d landed. There was no tech to trace with the Iron Man and War Machine suits dark. Rhodey had joined them in the air, providing armored escort.

Stefan lifted the axe and brought it down in a brutal arc, hewing another log in two.

It wasn’t unproductive; it made him forget the other thoughts that swirled through his brain, hazy and indistinct. He’d never had to call a retreat before. Bruce was bruised and battered, needing the rest. If Stefan were honest – and at this point he had to be – they’d all needed the rest. He could keep going, but the others were flagging.

Natasha had brought them here, to a place she called the Farm. The way she said it made it sound like a title.

Stefan brought the axe down again, splitting another log with a powerful flex of his shoulders. He set up again, looking up at the darkening sky. Someone had finally gotten in touch with Thor, at least. He split again, trying not to focus on the words under the leather band he wore on his wrist.

He needed his head in the moment, to work on this problem right now. The problem with that was that he’d touched his soul mate, recognized him for who he was. Phil might not want him. He’d said that wasn’t the case but the hesitancy—

It wasn’t what he’d expected from his soul mate. Weren’t two people Bonding supposed to be enthusiastic about the idea? Stefan sure was; he split another log, his hands itching to smooth over Phil, feel him skin to skin. His axe sliced through another log, his nostrils flaring at the ozone that heralded the Bifrost opening on the field behind the house.

He drove his axe through the wood again, not able to bring himself to care. He needed to keep busy, this pent up energy going nowhere otherwise. His heartbeat thundered in his ears, his whole body driving into it. He stacked the wood, moving for more of the rough-hewn logs that still needed to be split.

Stefan was here, when he wanted to be back at the Playground, finding all the ways that he and the Director fit.

Thor came around the corner to greet him right as Stefan gripped a log and split it in two with his bare hands, an angry noise issuing from the wood as he tore it apart. He realized then that he’d screamed, standing with two halves of the log in his hand like he’d tear them again. Thor stopped, taking in the sight of Stefan soaked in sweat, breathing heavy, and then clapped him on the shoulder.

“Friend Stefann. We have much to catch up on, it seems.” Stefan leaned into Thor’s touch, suddenly tired of it all. He nodded, letting Thor steer him into the house. He needed a shower, and they needed to plan. Hawkeye was en route.

They had, as Tony so gleefully suggested, gotten the band back together.

Phil had so many visitors on his doorstep. It was ridiculous, he thought, that he should be holed up in a secret when people just waltzed right on up to the Playground regardless. He squinted at the pressure alarm. The proximity alarms hadn’t triggered, which meant that whoever was here either knew about them, or knew what to look for when they saw them.

Phil collected his rifle, motioning Melinda to follow him. As she did, he outlined what he’d seen.

“Hostile?” she asked.

“I don’t know,” he admitted. “The cameras didn’t show a damn thing, but you know we have that blind spot just beneath them.”

“A trap, then.”

“They’d be inside by now if they really wanted to be,” Phil said, his brows drawing down into a frown as he and his second stalked through the corridors. Melinda was just as on edge as he was; she held herself with a quiet watchfulness that meant she was on the job.

They reached the front doors, and Phil reached out, his palm on the biometric scanner to open the pneumatic lock. The door ratcheted open, slow and deliberate; Phil kept his hand on Bambino’s charge, getting the gun warmed just in case.

“I don’t see anyone,” Melinda said, a cold wind whipping her hair into her face.

“Neither do I,” Phil agreed. “Perimeter check?”

She nodded, and they paced off together, the door closing behind them. Phil’s proximity plus a retinal scan would let them back in, and they waited for the doors to shut completely before they moved away. Letting someone inside that shouldn’t be there was not high on either of their priority lists.

The snow swirled around them, melting on their heavy coats as they patrolled near where the alarm had triggered. Phil kept a sharp look out, and he knew Melinda had her eyes on the path behind them.

“Not an animal,” she said, the question seeming absurd.

“No,” Phil said. “They keep away, and we’d have seen it on the external cameras even if it was. This was something that could reason, though whether or not it’s human is debatable.”

Melinda looked at him like he’d grown a second head.

“Metahumans, remember? We’d gotten wind of the twins that were experimented on.”

“Right,” she said. She moved her eyes back. “If it’s them, we’ll never see the man coming.”

“I bet that makes him a hit with the ladies,” Phil said, his voice dry. Something crunched, and their banter dropped as they swung their weapons around. The area around the tarmac was deserted, save for a tower where the guns emerged while the base was under fire. Phil and Melinda edged around it.

As they rounded the corner, Phil caught sight of a SHIELD-issued parka. The figure was leaning against the wall, slumped as though they were exhausted. One gloved hand was clenched to their side, and Phil rounded them slowly, Melinda covering him.

“Mother of god, Jasper?” Phil asked, squinting. The man’s parka hood was up, a face mask on, but there was no mistaking Jasper Sitwell’s eyes, even as tired as they were. They rolled to look at him, and Jasper shook his head. Phil tugged down the mask, revealing his friend’s face coated with what had to be several days’ worth of beard.

Jasper didn’t make a sound; he pitched forward, and Phil caught him, staggering under the sudden dead weight. Melinda radioed into the base, and they laid Jasper out flat.

“What the hell—” Phil realized his hands were sticky with drying blood, and he radioed for Jemma and Anna to bring a stretcher.

Phil found the wound, pressing to keep it from opening again, and prayed that whoever had done this to Jasper was long gone.

If they weren’t, Phil would take care of them himself.

“—and that’s when I bolted,” Jasper said. He sipped at the water bottle, propped up in the mounds of pillows in the hospital wing. “The LMD was crushed in traffic, and as far as HYDRA knew, I was done like dinner. I’d made it to Poughkeepsie before the local cell caught wind I was around and started sniffing.”

Phil nodded, his hands clasped between his knees, arms braced on his legs as he listened. Jasper had finally woken after surgery, a puncture in his side barely missing his vitals. He was lucky that he hadn’t torn farther through his abdominal wall.

Phil was intent on Jasper’s story, and it seemed to throw him off a little bit.

“Anyway. I bounced from New York to Illinois after neutralizing the tail. McKennon and Raleigh.” Phil winced; more familiar names, familiar faces. “I holed up at the safehouse in Danville, until I had reason to believe it was compromised. I had no way of testing for safe communications, so I listened without broadcasting. That’s when I caught your signal.”

Phil nodded. Jasper was one of perhaps a baker’s dozen people who would recognize it. Felix was in a coma in Cedars-Sinai under an assumed name, healing from the caved in chest he’d gotten when he’d tangled with Mike Peterson. The rest were missing, presumed dead, save for Anna working in the next room and Clint and Natasha who were god knows where.

Phil tried not to be too pessimistic about that.

“What happened?” Phil said, indicating the gash in Jasper’s side.

“I’d taken the last of the skycycles,” Jasper said. “I was heading for the Yukon when I was spotted and tailed by two HYDRA operatives.”

Phil winced.

“They finally made their move about a quarter mile from Mount Logan,” he said. “Tried to pincer me. I jumped from the bike and they wiped out. One landed alive but unconscious, the other was dead on impact. I didn’t recognize either of them, but the wreckage should be east of here.”

Phil nodded, making a note to find it.

“I neutralized them.” Jasper’s voice was detached. “While I was taking care of that, the cycle blew and I caught shrapnel in my side. My best bet was finding the Playground.”

“And you say that Fury has had you on assignment since 2011?” Phil asked. He didn’t know how he was supposed to believe it, but it was plausible. Then again, Jasper’s patsy was legendary; if anyone knew that, it was Phil.

“Deep cover,” Jasper said. “The only one who kept records was Fury, and even then, he didn’t leave me any expectations for my cover being blown. I think we both knew what would happen.”

“You’re saying he knew the Winter Soldier incident would happen.”

“I’m saying that he knew HYDRA was getting ready to move, thanks to my reports. Even I didn’t know about the Soldier being reactivated. I thought he was just a legend.”

“Until he threw your Life Model Decoy into traffic.”

“Well, yeah,” Jasper grumbled. He rubbed at his face. “Listen, Phil—”

“I believe you,” Phil said.

“Wait, what?”

“I believe you. I believe we’ll find the sky cycle crash exactly where you say it is. I believe we’ll find two bodies. And I believe you were in deep cover. I never did give up on you, even when you were an ass. You ass.”

Jasper seemed to sag into the pillows. He looked at Phil, his mouth working as though he wanted to say something else. Phil just smiled at him.

“You look like s**t,” Phil said.

“All due respect, Phil, so do you.” Jasper took a sip from his water bottle. “Now what?”

“Now, we check out your story, I dig through the files I was left and find the details of what you’ve reported. I work out exactly where we go from here.” Phil tilted his head to the side, regarding Jasper. “Do you mind being on lockdown?”

“No,” he said, without a second of hesitation. “I know how delicate this is, and I’ll submit to any and all testing.”

“You’re a good man, Jasper.”

“Well, except for the whole married to the job thing,” Jasper grumbled. Phil noticed his gaze went out the observation window, to where Jemma was working. He smiled to himself.

“Welcome back, Jasper,” Phil said, rising. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you’re not dead.”

“For what it’s worth, I’m glad, too.” Jasper saluted. “Go and tend the troops, Jefe. I’ll hold down the fort.”

“Flirt with my medical team, you mean.” Phil grinned at the sour look Jasper shot him. “Should I call Ana?”

Jasper’s look soured further at the mention of his mother. “Let me call her. I can’t have the favorite son breaking the news of my continued existence.”

“Suit yourself,” Phil said. “Might wanna do it soon, though. There’s rumblings on the horizon.”

“I heard as much,” Jasper said. “Avenger level stuff. Gamma-sized threats.”

“Mm.” Phil stretched. “You ever get tired of superheroes?”

“Constantly. Since Puente Antiguo and Bambino’s predecessor threw me through a shop window.”

Phil nodded. “Me too.”

Stefan had taken a long, hot shower after the woodcutting incident. Thor had insisted, and the rest of the team had agreed that he should get cleaned up before they met together. Clint had informed them he was en-route, so they wouldn’t have to wait for him long.

He came down, a towel around his shoulders and rubbing at his still-damp hair. The team was clustered in the living room, talking quietly, and as he approached, he could see why.

Instead of Clint, Phil Coulson sat in their midst, smiling his trademark placid smile.

“Hey, there he is,” Tony said, looking up at Stefan. “Look who decided to crawl out of his tomb and join us.”

Stefan stopped, staring at the Director. Blue-grey eyes turned to him, and Phil’s smile didn’t change.

“Captain Roosevelt, it’s good to see you,” he said. Stefan’s brows beetled. The last time he’d seen Phil, there had been a pull, as though someone had hooked him under the bellybutton and yanked. But looking at Phil now—

He felt nothing. Nothing at all. No desire, no thrill at seeing his soul mate again. What was going on?

“Director Coulson,” he said, stiff.

“You want a beer, Coulson?” Tony asked. Thor echoed the sentiment, and Tony was half-way to the fridge as he turned to regard the Director of SHIELD. Stefan stared at the man, still trying to suss out why he felt this way.

Natasha picked up on Stefan’s unease first; Sam followed. They both caught each other’s eye, glanced at Stefan, and then back at each other. Rhodey squinted between them, turning to look at Stefan.

“Ah, no thank you,” Phil said, turning to Tony. He waved a hand in dismissal. “I haven’t had a beer in—”

Whatever he was about to say was lost as Stefan strode over, one large hand grasping Phil by the shoulder. He grabbed the man by the head with his other hand, hooking his fingers into Phil’s mouth, Stefan’s fingers clutching his soft palate as he pulled.

There was a shrill noise, and Stefan tore Phil Coulson’s head clean from his shoulders. He wrenched it free with a grunt, his hips providing extra torque. Phil’s voice gave a screechy sort of feedback whine and died.

A long moment of silence followed.

“Holy s**t,” Tony said, his voice faint. “Holy s**t, Spangles. You killed Coulson. Again.”

“It wasn’t Phil,” Natasha said. “Calm down. There wasn’t arterial spray, for one.”

“I like how that’s your first assurance,” Sam said. He turned to Stefan. “How did you know?”

Stefan bent down and hiked up the LMD’s coat sleeve. ‘Phil’ had no mark on his left wrist. He heard Natasha’s intake of breath; she’d known, though she’d kept it mum.

“So he wasn’t soul marked, so what?” Tony said. “I mean, you’re right, but so what?”

Stefan cast Tony a look and slipped the ace bandage off his wrist. He turned over his arm, showing Tony his own mark.

“Oh.” Tony sat down heavily, prodding at the LMD with his shoe. It twitched, some leftover electrical impulse, and he jerked his foot back. “Why the LMD? Was he spying on us?”

“It wasn’t him,” Natasha said. “He’d have come in person. He knows how important honesty is now.”

Natasha and Stefan locked eyes, and he nodded. He believed so too. He looked down at Phil’s severed head in his hands, his heart jackhammering in his chest. He felt ill, and he dropped it, the head landing with a dull thump on the rug-covered floor.

“Then who—” Tony stopped, his face hardening. “ULTRON found LMDs.”

“What does this mean for us?” Rhodey asked.

“It means this place isn’t secure, if it ever was,” Stefan said. Natasha looked at him; he realized they were all staring at him. “We’re sitting ducks if we wait here.”

“What’s the plan?” Sam said.

“We take the fight to ULTRON,” Stefan said. “And we start with the Tower. Tony, can you get us inside?”

“Given enough time, I can get you anywhere you want,” Tony said. “We need to separate ULTRON from the nimrods somehow.”

“That’s the plan,” Stefan said. “We’ve got to get them apart, to where he can’t call for them. Can you jam the signal?”

“Maybe,” Tony said. “I don’t know how long it will take without JARVIS. With JARVIS, we might break through quick enough.”

“All right,” Stefan said. “Then that’s our next step. We need to get Tony back in touch with JARVIS’s mainframe, and that’s in the Tower. What’s Clint’s ETA?”

“Twenty minutes or so,” Natasha said, checking her watch.

“We’ll prep for takeoff then,” Stefan said.

“What about…” Tony gestured at the body on the floor.

“Leave it,” Stefan said. “It knows what happened. ULTRON is after us regardless. I think this is its way of playing with its food.”

Stefan stepped over the body of Phil Coulson and strode outside to prep the Quinjet for their assault.