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“You’re avoiding me… is it because of what that guy was gonna do to me?”
“No, Clint. Of course not. I’ve just… had a lot on my mind.”
Phil and Clint were sitting together in a garden on the grounds of Xavier’s School for Gifted Youngsters. They’d just saved the day. The hostages had been rescued and another monster had been slain. The sun was out, the birds were singing, and Phil was safe with his lover in a secluded retreat.
And yet he’d never been so nervous.
“Clint. There’s something I need to tell you.”
Clint was looking at him with eager, trusting eyes. Phil wanted to tell him everything. He knew he needed to. But how? Where did he begin? With the helicarrier? With Tony’s nanites? With the glowing blue wires just below his skin?
How could he tell Clint he was no longer… him? What magic words could explain something like that and make it still ok?
Clint watched the internal debate play out across Phil’s face and placed a reassuring hand on his knee. “Phil, what is it?”
“I, uh…”
“I’m sorry to interrupt, gentlemen.”
Nick Fury strode confidently towards them, his leather jacket swaying with his swagger and his good eye on Phil. Phil held his gaze as a cold lump filled his gut. He did not have a good feeling about the Director’s unexpected appearance.
“Director?” Clint asked. “What are you doing here?”
Fury turned to look at him. “And a good afternoon to you, Agent Barton. I’m glad to see you’re doing well. It’s time to come home.”
Clint scowled and looked to Phil for reassurance.
Phil nodded. “He’s right, Clint. We can talk later. Go get ready.” Clint nodded in reply. Confusion was still all over his face, but he went on Phil’s say-so. Nick came over and sat down.
“I’m surprised they let you in,” Phil said. He knew the Director had a shaky relationship with the mutant community.
“Yeah, well… I’m still owed a few favors.” He looked away from Phil and took in the grounds. “You can’t tell him, Coulson. I’m sorry, but you just can’t,” he said after a moment.
So Nick knew. Of course he did. Phil shook his head slightly. He should have guessed that earlier.
“Who else knows?” he asked.
“Stark, Miss Potts, Hill… and apparently the whole damn X-Men. You used to be able to keep secrets, Coulson. What the hell happened?”
“What happened?” Phil couldn’t believe the question. “Well, I died, apparently, and then you and Tony stuffed me with wires like a science experiment; so how about you tell me what happened?” There was a little more hostility in his voice than he’d meant, but it had been a rough few days and Nick had just interrupted a very important conversation.
“You’re right. You are a science experiment. That’s a good way to look at it. Stark did his thing and brought you back from the dead. With a few improvements, I’m assured.” He rolled his eye. “But Stark being Stark, we didn’t know about it until you were up and walking around, so don’t go blaming me for this. You got a beef, you take it up with him.”
“Believe me, I will, sir.”
“I’ve watched a lot of good men die, but watching you go like that…” Fury shook his head. “I buried you knowing the world had just lost someone special.”
Phil smiled just a little. He and Nick were brothers in arms and they’d been through a lot together. Phil knew he’d feel the same way about Nick if their situations had been reversed.
“But then there you were walking around Stark Tower like it was no big deal. Stark’s wearing this shit-eating grin and Barton’s following you around like a puppy. I thought I’d lost my mind until I remembered that, no, that was Tony Stark. He was the one who had lost his damn mind.”
Phil didn’t like the turn of this conversation.
“But what was I going to do about it?” Fury continued, shaking his head. “He’d already shown you off to the Avengers and it was pretty clear they needed you, then. Your death united them, but it wasn’t going to keep them together. Only you could do that. So I kept Stark’s little secret and waited.”
“Waited for what, sir?” Phil asked, shifting uncomfortably.
“For someone to find out,” Nick replied, leaning back and letting his jacket fall open just a little. Phil couldn’t help but notice the pistol on his belt. “I mean, I was content to let you wander around while you were none the wiser, but now… now I have a problem. The last thing I need is some wannabe dissecting you and raising an army from your programming. The more people know what you are, the more likely that is. That’s always been Stark’s problem. He never sees the bigger picture of these things.”
“Sir, we can trust Clint.”
“Is that what your gut’s telling you, Agent Coulson?” Fury asked him. “Because that is not what mine is telling me.”
“I don’t understand, sir.”
“Well I would ask you if he was the same man you remembered from before New York, but I’m not sure I could trust your answer. I’m not sure you could, either.”
Phil took that in for a moment. It mirrored his own question so exactly - was he still him?
“I like it here,” Fury continued, looking back across the well manicured gardens. “Everything seems to have its place, even the unusual things. It’s simple, you know?”
“Yes, sir. I do.”
“I don’t trust simple. Nothing is ever as simple as it looks. There’s always something going on underneath and when that something finally shows itself, that’s usually when we get a call. Do you know what I’m saying, Agent Coulson?”
“Not really, sir, no.”
“Something is off with Barton and has been since Loki. I don’t know what it is, but things wrapped up too simply there.”
“Sir,” Coulson started, sitting up a little straighter. “I don’t think I would characterize any of those events as wrapping up simply.
Fury nodded, conceding the point before pressing on. “Look, I’m not saying I know what’s going on, but my gut is telling me that something is still wrong with him.”
“I haven’t seen anything out of character for him, sir.”
“And I would love to be able to take you at your word on that, but the simple fact is that Phil Coulson – the man who actually knew Clint Barton - is dead and buried. I miss him. He was a great guy. But you’re not him.”
“Sir…”
“You are a science experiment. You are classified tech the world isn’t ready for and until I know that Barton is the same man he was before and until I know his knowing about your… condition… poses no threat to this world, he does not get to know.”
“Sir…”
“Test me on this, Coulson, and I will have to make a hard call.”
Phil felt a chill run down his arm. “And what does that mean, exactly, sir?”
Fury leaned over to get within inches of Phil’s face. “It means that the second he finds out, I will shut you down and box you up like every other piece of tech we’ve recovered since New York. Stark understood that and now you do, too.”
Phil clenched his jaw tightly to prevent the shock from appearing on his face. Just a few minutes earlier he’d thought his biggest problem that day would be getting Clint to understand. But now…
“I’m sorry, Coulson, but that’s the way it needs to be. If you want me to trust him, prove to me I can.” Fury stood and held Phil’s glare for a moment. “It’s time to bring your agent home.”
***
Clint had already stowed his gear and was lounging across the backseat of their SUV when Phil arrived. Phil wasn’t all that certain what he would say to Clint if he tried to continue their conversation from before, so he simply smiled and got into the passenger seat. Clint seemed to get the hint and didn’t press. He closed his eyes and looked ready to take a nap during the drive. A junior agent would be driving them home and Phil used the time to think.
What on Earth had set Fury off?
Phil thought back over the past several months, searching for anything in Clint’s behavior that was out of character. Try as he might though, he couldn’t think of a single thing because everything about Clint’s behavior had changed. There had been years of merciless flirting between them, but it wasn’t until after Phil’s recovery that they’d started dating. Everything they did, said, and were now was a little different than it had been before. How could he pick any anomalies out of that?
Phil picked up his tablet and opened Clint’s reports for the missions he’d run between New York and the time Phil woke up in Stark Tower. Phil had read the briefs while recuperating but now wanted to read them more carefully. If there was any real change to Clint’s behavior, Phil would find it there. Their rapport was such that whole reams of information could pass between them in the space of a few sentences. He simply had to read between the lines to find all the detail he needed.
The change in Clint’s style was obvious, but Phil had originally dismissed it as Clint trying to adapt to a new handler. Reading them now with Fury’s warning fresh in his head, it seemed clear that Clint had been practically crying out for help. His reports were scattered and unfocused. They seemed to gloss over some details and focus obsessively on others. He seemed distracted, hesitant, and in some places, even apologetic.
Phil looked up at Clint in the rear view mirror. He was sound asleep and didn’t seem to have a care in the world. He seemed perfectly fine.
But now that seemed too simple.
As Phil read on, he thought more about every interaction he’d had with Clint since New York. He reviewed every conversation, every action, every late night lover’s whisper in his ear. Mounting doubt began to fill his gut until Phil was convinced there was something very wrong with Clint Barton. He needed to find out what, but unfortunately as a flutter in his side reminded him, there was another man Phil needed to have a conversation with first. Phil needed to know if he still had a gut to trust.
***
When they arrived in the city, Clint was hauled off for a battery of medical exams and Phil slipped away to Stark Tower. Pepper greeted him in the lobby with a big smile.
“Phil!” she said while walking over and giving him a kiss on the cheek. “You look good.”
“I’d say I work out, but it seems I’m just built this way,” he replied, smiling his usual relaxed smile.
Pepper hesitated for a moment as she considered what he’d said. He broadened his smile as realization showed on her face. She blushed and turned away, guiding them towards the elevator. They rode to the penthouse suite in awkward silence.
They found Tony on the veranda, watching the city rebuild. Pepper led Phil through the doorway and then turned to leave them.
“Please stay, Miss Potts,” Phil said. “I think the three of us have a lot to talk about.”
She looked over to Tony but he was still facing the city, so she turned back to face Phil. She nodded once, seeming to commit herself to a conversation she didn’t want to have, and led them both to the comfortable, modern looking chairs near Tony.
“How did you solve it?” Tony asked in a tired voice. “The nanites could never have lasted this long.”
“A mutant with an ability to conduct electricity recharged my ‘power core,’ as he called it.”
Tony nodded. After a moment he too seemed to resign himself to the conversation. He walked over to the veranda bar. “Can I get you a drink, Agent?”
“No, but thank you.”
Tony nodded again and poured seltzers for him and Pepper. He came over and sat down. After another moment, he managed to meet Phil’s eyes.
“I’m not going to apologize, Agent.”
“And I’m not going to ask you to. I just want to know why?”
“Aw, Phil…” Pepper started before trailing off. Phil could see the emotion welling up in her. He’d always liked Pepper and he didn’t want to put her in a difficult spot, but he had questions that deserved answers. He smiled a reassuring smile and turned back to Tony.
“Because it wasn’t right and because I could fix it,” Tony said after another moment.
Phil nodded. He could understand the sentiment, he genuinely could, but he could also understand Fury’s comment about Stark and the bigger picture.
“But you didn’t fix it, did you?”
“We’ll figure out the power thing. Reed and I have some ideas.”
“That not what I mean, Tony. I’m talking about Clint.”
Tony scowled with confusion. “Barton? I don’t…”
“You knew what I was and you pushed him toward me like a guinea pig.”
“Phil, that’s not true,” Pepper said.
“Isn’t it? You lied to him. You let him fall in love knowing damn well someday he’d be made a fool. I mean, I know I have pieces of missing time, so what did you do? Did you adjust my programming to make sure I’d be what he wanted? How much of me is really me and how much of it is you two playing with dolls?”
“It wasn’t like that, Phil.”
“Then tell me what it was like, Miss Potts.”
Tony set down his glass. “Ok. We can do this. You can be mad if you want, but I did this for you. And for him. I gave you both a second chance.”
“I find that hard to believe, Tony. I think you did this for you.”
“And what if I did? Hmmm? What if I did?”
“Tony…”
“No, it’s alright, Pep. He’s right. I did it for me. I do everything for me. Isn’t that right, Agent? Isn’t that the assessment? I don’t do anything where I’m not personally motivated.”
“Yes, it is. And that’s why I’m asking. Why me? Why this? What did it matter to you if I lived or died?”
“Phil, no. Don’t think like that. It mattered to us,” Pepper said, tears starting to form in her eyes. Phil felt like a cad, but he had to know.
Tony shook his head. “Because it was my fault.”
“How do you figure that? I don’t remember much, but I don’t remember you at the other end of that staff.”
“When you stared down a god, where was I? I was fixing an engine,” Tony said, the heat of embarrassment immediately obvious in his voice. “He stabbed you through the heart and you still shot him off the plane. I mean, Jesus, Phil. S.H.I.E.L.D. needed a mechanic, so they called me in. But that was all they needed from me because they already had a hero.”
Phil was floored. Of all the things Tony could have said to him, that was probably the last he’d expected to hear. It was touching to hear Tony thought so highly of him. But then, he thought, it was also very Tony to blame himself for being less than the center of attention.
“Loki didn’t get to take you away. Not like that. Not when I could fix it.”
They sat for a moment in silence and then Pepper reached out and took Phil’s hand. “Does Clint know? Is that what you’re worried about?”
Phil shook his head. “He doesn’t know and that’s only one of the things I’m worried about.”
“And what are the others?”
Bless her heart, Phil thought, but she really would try to fix any problem she could. She was so much like Tony in so many ways. The yin to his yang. The two of them would forever try to solve problems without ever stopping to consider the wider issues. Phil shook his head just a little.
“Fury, S.H.I.E.L.D., me. I mean… what am I now?”
“What do you mean, what are you now? You’re Agent,” Tony replied, smiling broadly like the answer was self-explanatory. “Or Agent mark 1, if you’d rather. I made a few improvements over the last version. Or better yet, I know you secret government types like acronyms, so I’m sure we could come up with something. ‘Agent Guy Enabled with Nano Technology,’ or something, but I’m just spit-balling…”
“Does this have to be a joke, Tony?” Phil asked loudly, flushed with anger so suddenly it surprised even him. Pepper recoiled in shock at his response and Tony stopped smiling. Phil closed his eyes and took a breath. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to react like that.”
“No, I’d say it was a pretty fair reaction,” Pepper said after a moment. “You’re angry and I don’t blame you. But Phil, you’re alive. Isn’t that what matters?”
“Am I, Miss Potts? Or am I, I don’t know… I don’t even know how…” Phil let out a frustrated sound and got up, moved to veranda’s edge and looked out over the city. Things used to be so simple, he thought. Even when the world got weird and gods fell from the sky… it still made a simple kind of sense to him. He knew his place and his role. He was there to protect the ordinary from the extraordinary. But now… he was the extraordinary and his role was unclear. Like Fury said, things only ever seemed simple.
He shook his head and turned back to Tony. “What am I now? What is this? Is any part of me still me?”
“Is that what…?” Tony started before laughing. “Please, Agent. Yes. You’re the same as you’ve always been. I mean, give me a little credit here. You’re not Data toddling around the Enterprise trying to understand humanity. You’re still you.”
“How can you say that, Tony? I’m not. I’m… what you made me.”
Tony got up and walked over to him. He put a hand on his shoulder and looked him in the eyes. His expression was that of a father reassuring a child there were no monsters under the bed.
Phil hated him for that.
“You’re not a robot, Phil. You aren’t ‘programmed,’ at least not the way you’re thinking. Come back over and sit down. I’ll explain.”
Tony explained Phil’s ‘creation’ in far more detail than Phil understood or was comfortable hearing. Tony was obviously very proud and very relieved to finally be able to tell all, but the clinical way in which he discussed constructing the body – Phil’s body – was almost too much for Phil to take in. It was staggering how easily Tony could reduce a human life to a description of parts and mechanisms.
Phil’s body was a combination of organic and synthetic parts. Tony had taken great pains to clone and grow material, like skin and muscle fiber, from Phil’s original DNA. But other parts, like his heart, were too complex – and too vulnerable, as Tony said. He’d created synthetic ones with ‘better warranties.’ These, of course, required a power source and Tony had strung thin, conducting wires of vibranium throughout Phil’s system. The material’s qualities meant they should last Phil’s lifetime without needing repair or replacement and should go undetected by typical scans. Tony was pretty proud of that work and even had a sidebar to tell about acquiring the metal.
“I offered to repair Cap’s shield after New York and helped myself to a few ounces. I probably could have used something else, but I thought you would appreciate the touch.” He smiled at Phil looking for appreciation and Phil smiled back. He did indeed appreciate the thought, but didn’t like how Cap had been cheated and lied to in the process. It just didn’t feel right and Phil continued to grow more uncomfortable.
“But your brain, Phil… that was what kept me up at night.” Tony had leaned back, smiling, like he was about to proudly explain how he solved a tricky puzzle. “I wasn’t lying when I said I found you in a S.H.I.E.L.D. facility. You were in some anonymous room in some anonymous facility. They had you on life support, but you were going fast. If I’d found you a little sooner, maybe I could have done something a little different, but the state you were in didn’t leave me much time. I shot you full of nanites and had JARVIS map everything. Every neuron, every connection, every cell, scar, chemical output. Everything.”
“Look, I know,” Tony continued, defending against the protest Phil hadn’t made. “I knew it wasn’t going to be perfect, but it was better than doing nothing.” He got up and moved to the bar, pouring himself another drink. “And then you were gone. And it was several months before I got it to all come together. I couldn’t re-grow the brain, but I could mimic it; make the connections and allow for the chemical responses. Plus, S.H.I.E.L.D. had a whole database of other really rather invasive scans, plus the whole history of your life on file. Pictures, voiceprints, everything I needed to test.”
He walked back over to them. “And I had Pepper to keep it honest and make sure you really were still you.” He put a hand on her shoulder and they both looked at him with eager smiles. “So, yeah, you are partially a machine and you have a power source and… some other things going on, but at the end of the day, you’re still you. And I bet if you asked your little Robin Hood if he’d rather have you like this or not at all, he’d choose this.”
Phil didn’t move, he just slowly grew paler. The god-like powers Tony had assumed for himself were astonishing. It wasn’t just that he’d felt justified in doing what he’d done, but the way he’d gone about it that was disturbing. Phil had no doubt the technology was fantastic and the work done was exacting. He took Tony at his word that every neural connection and every fiber that had once been there was there again in some form.
But to hear Tony so coldly describe Phil’s mind like a series of connections on a switchboard and to sum up Phil’s existence - his thoughts, his memories, his quirks, his gut – as purely the sum of those things that Tony could find in a file, was the most demoralizing thing Phil had ever heard in his life.
Phil wasn’t a particularly religious man, but if truly pressed on the issue he’d admit to believing in the soul and, perhaps, the existence of an afterlife. He took comfort in the notion of someday seeing what lay on the other side. But now Phil found himself truly questioning that idea. Perhaps somewhere he was already seeing it.
Phil suddenly felt very cold, very numb, and very, very alone.
Which made him think about Clint. Tony had effectively decided for him what he would want in his life. He had manipulated him and saddled him with this lie. Phil had never felt sorry for Clint in his life, but now all he could think about was Clint being hustled and played by Tony Stark, the world’s greatest salesman. That thought upset Phil almost more than the thought of what Tony had done to him.
“That wasn’t your call to make, Tony,” Phil said quietly after a long moment.
It wasn’t the response Tony or Pepper had expected, though to be fair, Phil wasn’t exactly sure what they had been expecting. Maybe praise, jubilation, or Phil falling to his knees and weeping with gratitude. Maybe they were looking for someone to worship at the altar of Tony Stark.
Whatever it was, it wasn’t the horrified expression they’d found in Phil. Tony’s smile disappeared and his face darkened.
“Well, I made it anyway.”
Phil needed to think very carefully about his next words. The thought of Tony possessing this new technology was very troubling. If it was that easy for him, both morally and technologically, to manipulate Avengers and build a fully functioning, sentient being based on a few scans, stolen materials, and the say-so of his girlfriend, then Tony Stark could do this again and to anyone he wished. Fury’s worry about an army of beings like him started to seem like a very real possibility. It was a dangerous slope for Tony to begin slipping down.
All villains have an origin story, he thought, and he didn’t want to be Tony’s.
But then he thought again about Clint. Phil needed to help him with whatever was going on and in order to do that, he would need Tony’s help. His energy levels were already beginning to subside and he would need Tony’s technology if he was to survive beyond the next day or so.
Before this conversation, he’d planned to tell Tony about the gift of power Odin had given him for saving Thor, but now, Phil didn’t see any way he could trust Tony with that kind of power. There was no telling what Tony could or would do with it. After all, he’d had no qualms about lying and stealing from Cap. What would he do if handed a tangible brick of ‘power beyond human reckoning?’
With Tony’s genius, obsessive nature, and emotional volatility, Phil figured he was just one motivating factor away from becoming the world’s foremost super-villain. Phil would not be responsible for handing him the power to rule it.
So he did what he always did when facing a potential threat: he smiled. And he lied.
“You’re right. And I thank you for making it. I’ve been getting a little run down and this is a lot to take in.”
Tony nodded, seemingly satisfied with the answer. Phil figured it was easier for him to dismiss Phil’s reaction as him ‘not understanding’ than him being ungrateful.
“Well, Reed and I have been working on a few things, so let’s head inside and test them out. We should be able to keep you going for a while longer this time.”
Phil nodded in response and stood. Tony had already started moving towards the doorway and Phil moved to follow, but Pepper rose and stood in his way. She looked at him with sad, sober eyes and held the gaze until Phil started to grow uncomfortable.
“He loves you, Phil, even though he doesn’t know how to say it. He wanted to give you a second chance. Please see that.”
She’d clearly read the thoughts running through his mind. She had always been good at reading people and maybe she knew Phil a little better than he realized. Or maybe he’d just been built to think like her. He honestly wasn’t sure.
Phil gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. “I will try.”
***
Phil stepped out of Stark Tower and walked across the street to a corner diner. He moved to a booth in the far back of the room and ordered coffee. When it arrived, he gripped the warm mug tightly and shut his eyes, trying to will his shaking hands to be still. He had masked the pain and tremors while in Tony’s lab, desperate to get the power he needed and then get away. He had endured and smiled and pretended everything was just fine. S.H.I.E.L.D. training had made him very good at doing those things, but now that he was anonymous in a crowded room, he could let down his guard a bit and focus on himself. He felt his fingers twitch with a clock-like rhythm timed to his heartbeat. They slowed and became less obvious as he breathed more deeply and calmed his mind.
Tony had installed a new device in his chest that was meant to replace his original power cell. Tony had explained how the device worked but either because of the technobabble he’d used or the searing pain it had caused, Phil had not registered much from the explanation. He felt stronger already, but that strength was clearly going to come at a price this time around.
His phone beeped. He’d taken his earpiece out while in Tony’s lab and now realized in his haste to leave, he’d forgotten to put it back in. That wasn’t like him and he hated how thrown he was by the day’s events. He pulled the phone from his pocket and looked at the message from Clint.
>>Phil?
Phil wasn’t ready to talk to Clint yet, and was suddenly glad he didn’t have his earpiece. He started to reply but his fingers were still shaking too badly to type, so he set the phone down and reached back for the coffee. He warmed his fingers and breathed in the aroma, trying to further calm himself. His phone beeped again.
>>Either something is wrong or you’re avoiding me. Again. Which is it?
Phil wiggled his fingers and willed control over them. He typed out a reply.
>> Just getting coffee.
>>uh-huh. Well I’m breaking out of here. Meet me at the bar?
Phil tried to think how to reply. He wanted to meet with Clint – needed to, even – but Clint knew him so well, there was no way Phil would be able to mask everything. Clint would be able to read him in moments and know Phil was hiding something.
He replied that he’d meet in a little while, after he’d run some errands. He took a small sip of his coffee and tried to plan how he’d approach Clint and what exactly he’d say.
“How about a piece of pie?”
Phil looked up to see his waitress standing at his side. He hadn’t even noticed her approach. That was rare.
He shook his head. “No, but thank you.”
“Are you sure? You look like you could use one.”
Phil studied her for a moment and as he did, she sat down opposite him. She brushed her red hair back off her shoulders in an absent-minded way and pointed at his hand gripping the mug. Phil looked down and saw that most of his fingers had turned white with tension. Embarrassed, he released the mug and looked at her.
“I’m ok. But thank you.”
She nodded in response, but held his gaze. She was young, but seemed to hold herself with a maturity beyond her years, like the weight of the world had been resting on her shoulders long enough for her to grow accustomed to it. It gave her an almost regal air that made him suddenly and inexplicably apologetic to be taking up her time.
“I’m sorry,” Phil continued. “You probably need the table for someone else. I’ll pay for the coffee and go.”
“It’s alright. Let’s sit a moment.”
Phil considered her again. “I’m sorry, do I know you?”
She shrugged. “You look like you could use some company and guessing by how you’re hiding back here and the look your gave your phone a minute ago, I don’t think you want that company to be people you already know.”
Phil eyed her suspiciously, now. She’d observed quite a lot about him in a short period and in his line of work, that was often dangerous. She noted his change in demeanor and raised her hand in protest.
“I don’t mean anything by that,” she continued. “Just two people having coffee and really good pie.”
After a moment, Phil agreed to the pie and watched her walk off to get their slices. He wanted to see where this was going and what kind of game she was playing. He carefully watched her slice the pie and return with it. He hadn’t noticed anything out of the ordinary – she hadn’t dosed the pie with anything, as far as he could tell. He’d watched her body language closely, looking for concealed weapons or the tell tale nuances of an assassin’s light foot step, but saw nothing concerning.
Instead, she sat down with a heavy grace and started to eat. After another moment, so did he and he found the pie was as good as she’d suggested.
“Can I ask why you joined me?” he asked, after a moment.
She shrugged again. “Because you seem like you could use a friend. I know what that’s like.”
Phil smiled and nodded noncommittally. She considered his reaction and continued. “You’re avoiding someone you can’t avoid for long. Am I right?”
Phil stared at her and she nodded, taking his silence as confirmation.
“That I understand,” she continued. “And one thing I’ve learned is that if you fill that time until you need to see them with pie instead of dread? Well, then when you finally see them, at least you’ve had pie.”
Phil laughed in spite of himself, a good hearty laugh that took him by surprise. He hadn’t laughed like that in years, but the conversation and the kindness of a stranger were so unexpected, he couldn’t help but laugh. It felt good and he suddenly realized how freeing it was to have both anonymity and company.
The waitress smiled and continued to eat her pie in silence. He found she reminded him of his mother, who had made an apple pie every time his father had deployed. Phil’s father had had a particularly dangerous job and they both knew the fear and worry would return just as soon as they were finished eating, but for those few moments, the two of them would sit at the kitchen table and share the warm pie, pushing all of that anxiety aside. It was a memory of his mother’s love as she tried to shield him from a harsh, cruel world. It filled him with warmth and so, for those few moments sitting in the diner, Phil pushed aside his fear and worries and allowed everything to be simple again.
By the time he’d finished his pie, his hands had stopped shaking. He smiled at the waitress and she smiled serenely back, holding his gaze long enough for him to realize the pie was pretense after all. He wiped his mouth with his napkin and leaned back in the booth, studying her, the room, and every possible weapon within his reach. He did so calmly and quietly, with his trademarked relaxed smile acting as cover for his dangerous potential.
She registered his change and looked down at her coffee, still smiling.
“I enjoy American pie and all the rich varieties I can sample when I visit New York,” she said after a moment, with just a touch of an accent Phil hadn’t noticed before. “My husband is less fond. He prefers cloudberries and cream. But then again, Odin has always been a traditionalist.”
Tension dropped from Phil’s shoulders as the glamour fell away and he recognized Frigga, Queen of Asgard, wife of Odin, stepmother of Thor and Loki. He was simultaneously in awe of her beauty and humbled by the power she seemed to naturally exude.
“Your Majesty…” he said while trying to figure out what else to say. She reached out and placed a reassuring hand over his.
“Be at ease, Philip. I come as a friend.”
“I appreciate that Your Majesty, but it is a long journey for so little purpose.”
“You are a great purpose, Philip. You saved my son. Another owes you a terrible debt. You may think yourself a mere mortal, but you have bound yourself to the very pillars of the Kingdom of Asgard. Much rests upon you and your well-being.”
“I thank you for saying so, but I can’t imagine I am of much consequence to gods.”
She chuckled lightly. “You would be surprised, Philip. Thor is quite fond of you and Loki…” she trailed off from what she had been about to say.
“Is not?” Phil supplied. He’d hoped to get a smile from the light moment, but her face turned more serious and she nodded.
“He is not. He is tormented that you live, but also amused by it. You have become a fixation for him and I grow worried.”
“For me or for him?”
“For both of you. I am quite fond of you, Philip, but he is still my son. I told you that I would see him repay his debt to you and I believe that time has come. My husband will soon permit Loki to leave his cell. I believe he will come to you and present you with a choice.”
She reached out again, took Phil’s hand and squeezed it. “As Thor is a god of strength and thunder, so is Loki a god of mischief and deception. Philip, know this well and think very carefully before making your choice.”
“Do you know what he plans to do?”
“I believe I do, but I cannot influence your choice. You must make it consciously and of your own accord. I would simply urge you, as someone fond of you, to weigh the choices carefully. He has already set the board to his advantage.”
Phil’s phone beeped and he ignored it, but Frigga looked to it and held her gaze until Phil, too, looked at the message from Clint.
>>Really not enjoying waiting for you. Finish your errands and come home soon, ok?
Phil felt a chill run down his arm.
“He’s done something to Clint?”
“No more than he did before. He simply hasn’t stopped doing it.”
“He’s still controlling him?”
She looked away and reached for a glass of water. After taking a sip, she continued. “Yes and no. Clint is no longer under Loki’s direct influence, as he was, but Loki maintains a connection and is able to whisper careful thoughts into your friend’s mind. He is subtle and able to make them appear quite natural. I am sorry to say that Loki has been having some fun at both of your expenses.”
Loki having fun. There were few things that could fill Phil with concern the way that thought could.
“And if I may ask, Philip,” she continued, “you are not terribly surprised to hear this, are you?”
Phil shook his head slightly. “No. You’re the second person today, actually, to tell me something is wrong with Clint.”
“That is why I have chosen to come. Now that you are aware, he will seek his objective more quickly.”
“And you can’t say what that is.”
Frigga shook her head slightly. “Loki’s objectives are rarely clear or concrete. They are subtle and intricate, often influencing events far beyond their appearance.”
“He’s the butterfly effect, flapping his wings in one place and causing aliens to fall from the sky somewhere else.”
“If you’d like. I cannot say how he has influenced Clint or to what end because I do not know. You know Clint best. You will have to consider for yourself what statements he has made or actions he has taken that seem out of character. But as I said, I believe Loki will present you with a choice, the consequences of which will be grave. He will somehow involve Clint to make you think emotionally instead of rationally and so, I urge you to be prepared for this and to think carefully about the choice you make.”
“It’s hard to prepare when you don’t know what’s coming.”
“Philip, you have spent enough time with Thor to have learned his ways. You already know everything you need to face Loki.”
Though he was unsure of her meaning, it was clearly a statement of purpose. Phil bowed his head slightly, acknowledging the favor Frigga was extending. It was astonishing that she had come this far for such a simple, thoughtful conversation.
“Your majesty,” he asked quietly after a moment. “Why are you sharing this with me?”
Frigga smiled and reached out to hold his hand. She wrapped his fingers between her warm palms. “Because I like you, Philip. I love my sons… but I like you very much.”
***
Phil walked the rest of the way to Clint’s bar, thinking over the past several days. Just two weeks earlier he had been on vacation with Clint, lying on a Tahitian beach with a drink in one hand and a paperback in the other. Clint had fallen asleep in the palm shade beside him and when Phil had looked down at him, he’d been filled with an overwhelming sense of peace and contentment. Lying there with him was a magical moment and when Clint had finally woken, he’d looked up to see Phil still smiling down at him.
“I told you you’d like it here,” Clint said with a dreamy tone.
“It’s a magical place.”
Phil rode that high feeling all the way home, but within just a few days of returning, it had all come crashing down. The Wheel of Fortune, Karma, Fate – whatever it was that ruled his life and pushed him always away from serenity - turned that high around to its complete opposite and left him questioning everything and everyone around him.
First, he’d learned that he was dying, which in hindsight had been the least startling of revelations. More upsetting was learning that he’d actually already died and just didn’t remember. Further still was learning that he’d been built in a lab by a man he’d respected, but who had since lost all sense of ethical principle, and that his oldest friend now viewed him as nothing more than dangerous tech to be secured and monitored. But worst of all was learning that his lover had been manipulated repeatedly and by different people, including those who’d called him friend.
The more Phil walked, the angrier he got. It wasn’t just his life that had been taken away, but Clint’s as well and so, he tried pushing away his own frustrations and focusing on Clint’s. He thought about all the people in Clint’s life who were making decisions for him. He thought about Tony treating him like a guinea pig, Fury treating him like an enemy, and Loki treating him like a tool. He thought about how this Avenger - this ordinary human who could hold his own against superpowers, aliens, and magic, alike – was being treated like a helpless thing, even by those who knew him best.
But then Phil realized he wasn’t any different in that regard. For all the love he’d professed to Clint, he’d treated him the same way. He’d kept his ‘heart attack’ from Clint because he hadn’t wanted him to worry. He’d kept the nanites from him, too, because he’d wanted Clint to stay focused. And on that beach in Tahiti when he could have told Clint about the peace and fulfillment he’d brought to his life, he hadn’t said a thing.
He wasn’t sure why he’d held back. He’d told himself it was still too soon. He hadn’t wanted to put Clint on the spot, as it were, and make things too serious for him. He knew Clint had trust and abandonment issues. He knew Clint had never been in a relationship as long as he’d been in this one with Phil. It seemed like they had a good thing going and Phil hadn’t wanted to jeopardize any of it by putting pressure on him to share the commitment Phil felt.
And so he’d decided it was in Clint’s best interest if he just kept things to himself and kept things light.
“I told you you’d like it here,” Clint said with a dreamy tone.
“It’s a magical place.”
Phil was just as guilty as any of the rest of them and those words stuck in his mind like evidence of his betrayal.
It was true that Tony, Fury, and Loki had been sitting on larger secrets than Phil had been, but a betrayal was still a betrayal. He had made decisions for Clint without ever letting him see the choices. He had demonstrated a fundamental lack of trust that shamed Phil to his core.
As Phil walked down the city streets, he felt his fingers begin to twitch again with their mechanical rhythm. He shoved them in his pockets, ignoring them and dismissing thoughts of the conversation he would have to have with Tony. Fixing himself wasn’t the priority right now, fixing things with Clint was. He cleared his mind and slowly realized there were three things of which he was sure: that Loki was using Clint like a wire tap, learning SHIELD’s – and Phil’s – secrets just by letting him walk through life; that Fury would not tolerate or forgive Loki learning something as top secret as Phil’s condition, even if it came in so innocent a way as a lover’s confession; and that it was absolutely in Clint’s best interest that Phil not tell him any of the things that had happened in the past 24 hours.
Which is why he decided that was precisely what he was going to do.
***
Phil found Clint in the secluded courtyard behind his bar. He was slowly, almost mindlessly firing arrows at a series of targets at different heights and angles along the far brick wall. Phil knew it was a form of meditation, a way to calm and focus his mind. Phil had walked in ready to blurt everything out to Clint, but seeing him there, Phil hesitated, suddenly unsure of himself and what he was interrupting.
Clint turned and looked at him, smiling effortlessly, like he hadn’t a care in the world. He set down his bow and walked over to Phil. He said nothing as he collected Phil’s face in his hands and kissed him. Phil let his hands drop to his sides and relaxed into Clint, feeling the anger and worry drop from him. When Clint finally pulled away, he looked down at Phil and smiled.
“I missed you,” he said.
“I missed you, too,” Phil replied.
Clint took a step back, but kept smiling. “Well, you have a funny way of showing it. You keep running off.”
“I know and I’m sorry about that. There are things I need to tell you.”
Clint nodded and walked over to a small table. “Yeah, that’s what you said at Xavier’s before bailing on me. A couple of times.”
Phil joined him at the table. “Yes. I’m sorry about that.”
“I’m going to guess you went to see Stark.”
Phil looked at him uncertainly. He hadn’t expected Clint to guess outright.
“Yes, I did.”
Clint nodded like it was information he already had. “And whatever he did, it’s why your fingers are twitching now.”
Phil clenched his fist instinctively, hiding the subtly twitching digits. He hadn’t realized they were so obvious and he was suddenly self-conscious. “You saw that, huh?”
“Phil. ‘Hawkeye,’ remember? Yeah, I saw them.”
Phil struggled for a moment trying to figure out what to say and Clint leaned forward, taking Phil’s twitching hand and holding it. He looked Phil in the eye.
“You know, there really isn’t all that much that gets past me.”
Phil had to stop himself from smiling. The sheer amount of information being kept from Clint could fill volumes. Clint seemed to read the hesitation and the amusement on Phil’s face, though. He looked down at his feet the way he did when people underestimated him. It was a remnant behavior from his teenage years when everyone had dismissed him, casting him to the outside and leaving him to a lonely life. Phil had worked hard to erase those years, but he’d still seen the look more often than he should have. Seeing it now made him hate himself just a little bit more as he realized he’d done it again – thought about Clint like a helpless thing. It was shameful. Clint deserved better. Phil shifted uncomfortably and looked at his own feet.
“I know you’ve been keeping things from me, Phil,” Clint continued, “and I’m sure you had your reasons, which is why I never pressed. But I think the time has come.” He shifted just enough to make Phil look up and meet his eyes. “I know what it looks like when someone lays unconscious in a hospital bed for months. They don’t look all tanned and muscle-toned, like you did. You looked perfect. Just the same as you always had.”
Phil watched him very carefully, how calm he was and how carefully he spoke his words. He’d clearly practiced this speech a few times in his head.
“And your heart sounds different,” Clint continued, quietly. “When you sleep and I can listen to its rhythm… it’s just not quite the same as it used to be. It’s too perfect. It was never perfect before.”
He squeezed Phil’s hand a little tighter and pulled him closer until they were only inches apart.
“Tell me what Tony did to you,” he said with such resolution, Phil was certain he’d had to build up the courage to do so. It was clearly something that had been weighing on his mind for some time. Phil thought about Loki, wondering if he was pressing Clint for the information or just eagerly listening in. Perhaps this was what he’d been waiting to learn all along.
But then Phil realized that Fury was wrong. If Clint had already made these observations and already had these thoughts, then Loki already had them as well. What could he really hold back that Loki hadn’t already guessed? And besides, Loki had already commanded an alien army and could call legions of creatures at will. What was a piece of Stark Tech to him? He didn’t need to know Phil’s secret in order to attack Earth. He could do that any time he wanted. What stopped him wasn’t a lack of ideas, but the Avengers. They would always find a way to stop him and Loki knew that as well.
And as for Fury’s threat, well… Phil looked at Clint’s face and thought about everything he was, everything the Avengers were, and he realized that if Fury made good on his promise to box Phil away, then they would find a way to stop that, too. He just needed to trust them as much as they trusted him.
So, Phil took a deep breath and disobeyed orders.
“He built me in his lab.”
Clint didn’t move, at first. Phil watched him carefully and slowly started to recognize the thoughts that were manifesting on his face. Clint was struggling to read Phil and to understand, perhaps judging if Phil was making a joke or being completely serious.
“What do you mean by that?” he asked after the moment’s hesitation.
“I mean, I’m not real. I died, but Tony found me first and did some scans, or something, and then went back to his lab and built me from the blueprints.”
Clint continued to stare at him and then before Phil could register the movement, flicked his utility knife across the back of Phil’s hand.
“Ow! Hey!” Phil quickly pulled his hand back from Clint’s, leaving a smear of blood on Clint’s thumb. Clint looked at it and then tentatively licked it. He wrinkled his nose at the taste and spit.
“Ugh, it tastes like blood.”
“Well of course it tastes like blood. What’d you think it would taste like, motor oil?”
Clint shrugged. “I wasn’t sure. But it’s real blood, isn’t it?
Phil pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and held it against the cut. “Yes. Tony grew most of it from my original DNA.”
“It? You’re referring to your body as an ‘it,’ now?”
“Well, I don’t know what else to call it. It’s not real, it’s…”
“Of course it’s real. You just bled all over my hand, didn’t you?”
“Yes, but…”
“And why did you say built instead of grown? I mean, if it’s your original DNA and all that…”
“Well, it’s only partially grown and…” Phil stood up and stepped away, turning his back on Clint and rubbing his hand through his hair while he tried to figure out how this conversation had gone so completely differently than he had pictured. He turned back, confusion all over his grimacing face.
“You’re remarkably OK with all of this.”
Clint pushed back in the chair and smiled. “Well… yeah. Did you think I wouldn’t be?”
“Well… yeah,” Phil replied, mimicking him. Clint chuckled at his tone.
“And that’s why you’ve been keeping it to yourself?”
Phil came back over and sat down again. He let out an exasperated sigh. “No. I really only just found out. I mean, I knew something was wrong, but this… I don’t know how to process this and I can’t believe you do.”
Clint leaned forward and put a hand on Phil’s knee, his face wrinkled with concern. “So you really didn’t know?”
Phil shook his head. “No. I took Stark at his word that he’d nursed me back to health. I mean in hindsight, I should have known something was wrong with that, but at the time it just seemed so… I don’t know, touching? Simple?”
“Aw, Phil. I had no idea. I’m sorry you had to find out alone.”
Phil looked up at him and thought he might take Clint right then and there. Everyone who knew had been worried about what Phil was, but Clint was worried about how Phil was. His whole life, Phil had never been so touched by or so drawn to an individual as he was in that moment. No one had ever thought of Phil as anything other than a machine even when he wasn’t one – clinical, dry, emotionless. But even now that Phil was one… Clint still worried about his heart in a way no one else ever had. Certainly not the way Tony Stark had worried about it.
Clint read the expression on Phil’s face and leaned in. “Phil, if I know you - and I do know you – you’re over thinking this thing right now. I’m sure it’s got you all twisted in knots, but you have to make peace with it.”
“And how can I possibly do that? I’ve got wires running through my entire body, Clint. Actual wires. Conducting electricity. I mean, I’m a robot.”
“No, you aren’t,” Clint responded with a tone of complete confidence.
“Yes, I am, Clint. I ran out of power in the middle of the woods and had to be recharged like a damn car battery. Do you have any idea what that’s like?”
“No, I don’t. But you’re thinking about this the wrong way.”
“How do you figure?”
“You came back, Phil. Maybe you’re not the same as you were before, not 100%, but you still came back.”
Phil stood up and stepped away, again. He crossed his arms defensively against the frustration. “No, Clint, I didn’t. Fury buried me somewhere. I have a grave. I have a coffin. I have a body in that coffin.”
Clint stood, too, and walked towards him. “Yes… but you still came back.” He placed his strong hands on either side of Phil’s head, cradling his face. “You are still in here. You are still alive. You came back.”
Phil felt the arguments rising in him but Clint’s touch seemed to keep them at bay. He closed his eyes and leaned into him, letting out a frustrated breath.
“If you’d come back with prosthetic limbs,” Clint continued, “you’d still be you, and I’d thank every fucking star in the sky that you’d come back to me. And that’s what happened, Phil. These are prosthetic limbs to replace the ones you lost. But you’re still you. You came back. And there isn’t a star left that I haven’t already thanked.”
Phil didn’t open his eyes; he just pulled Clint even closer and kissed him, holding nothing back, savoring the feel and flavor of him. It was everything he’d needed to hear, everything he’d hoped to hear. That Clint could understand everything he could not and could love him so unconditionally eclipsed every other thought in his head.
His madly twitching fingers gripped the back of Clint’s shirt, forcing him even closer, feeling the ribbons of muscle tense and move. Clint responded to the pull and walked them back until Phil’s back pressed up against the courtyard wall. Then he lowered his hands, removing Phil’s tie while his mouth worked down the line of his neck, tasting Phil’s skin.
Phil had the easier task, working his fingers under Clint’s t-shirt and pulling it up and off of him. He had a moment to admire Clint’s body, cast extremely favorably in the low garden lighting, before Clint was back on him, kissing mouth and then neck while he loosed Phil’s shirt and belt. He reached down and Phil caught his breath slightly at the touch.
Phil responded in kind, pushing back off the wall and walking Clint backwards. He forced Clint just off balance, leading his weight down onto the grassy courtyard. He moved on top of him, letting his own hands find their way and making Clint gasp at his own touch.
Always reserved and alert to the dangers of the world, Phil had never allowed himself a moment of unbridled passion, even with Clint. He’d always held something back, always kept one eye on the door and one ear to the wind. He’d never known what it was to give himself completely and totally to one person and one moment.
As they made love on grass, there was no one in Phil’s world but Clint and nothing that mattered more to him than staying in that moment and proving to Clint so completely how much he loved and needed him. How he would do anything for him, give him anything. Be anything for him. Even human.
***
At some point they’d moved upstairs to Clint’s apartment, the sounds of the bar having slowly drifted into the courtyard and broken their quiet comfort. They had gathered their hastily shed clothing and found their way to Clint’s bedroom, where everything had begun again. Clint had had no intention of losing the moment. It seemed he had several things to prove as well and Phil wrapped himself in the embrace, relishing the touch of Clint’s body against his own heavily scarred one.
Clint had fallen asleep after some time, his forehead pressed against the nape of Phil’s neck and his arm draped across him, fingers still touching the long, jagged scar left by Loki’s staff. Or, more correctly, the scar created to mimic that scar. Phil pushed that thought aside, though. It all seemed like semantics now.
He took a deep breath and stared out into the dark room. He let his eyes drift along the wall and the pictures tacked here and there. He smiled at a picture of Natasha sticking her tongue out, a rare light moment shared between her and Clint. Then he inventoried the other important moments in Clint’s life: a picture of the kids from his archery group holding some kind of trophy; one of a pre-teen Clint with his arm around his brother, Barney; and a photo of Phil, lounging on the beach in Tahiti, immersed in his book. Phil didn’t even remember it being taken, but the memory of that beach broadened the smile on his face.
The pleasant memory-haze began to give way to sleep when he flicked his eyes across the room one last time… and realized they were not alone. Loki sat in a chair across the room, smiling his snake-like smile in Phil’s direction.
Phil sat bolt upright in the bed. He’d expected the movement to snap Clint awake, but Clint’s unconscious body didn’t respond.
“Clint?” he called out, but getting no response, he looked to Loki with murderous eyes. “What did you do to him?”
Loki’s smile broadened, revealing impossibly white teeth.
“Me?” he asked with mock innocence. “I have merely suggested to him that he continue sleeping and it seems that he has taken that suggestion to heart. He is quite tired, after all.”
Loki winked at him and Phil found himself completing a mental inventory of all the weapons at his disposal. He’d already grabbed the knife Clint kept under the pillow and knew he could get to his gun in under a second.
Loki stood and began slowly pacing, holding his arms behind his back. “Now, it seems to me, Mr. Coulson… no, that seems a bit formal, don’t you think? Especially given our… intimate relationship.” He stopped pacing and turned smiling as he said the words. “I need something more appropriate to call you and you have so many wonderful names to choose from. Mr. Stark calls you ‘Agent’ and my dear brother prefers ‘Philip,’ but me… I think I prefer ‘Sugar Lips.’ Yes, I quite like that one. Don’t you, Sugar Lips?”
“Why have you come here,” Phil asked quietly.
“Well, it seemed like the right time. I find that timing is everything and that was quite enjoyable to watch, by the way.” He came and sat at the edge of the bed and Phil tensed to spring at him if necessary. “You have many talents.”
Phil said nothing, he just continued to watch.
“But I believe you knew I was coming, yes? My step-mother has always had a flare for the dramatic. ‘Loki, you owe this man your life.’ As if that could possibly be true. You are a mortal. I owe you no such thing.”
“You think she’s the dramatic one of your family?”
Loki’s eyes darted up at him quickly. A murderous sneer appeared at Phil’s slight, but was quickly gone.
“But…” Loki continued, “I owe you a debt and I have come to repay it, Sugar Lips.” He flared out his hands and bent at the waist in a mock bow. “It is clear you are rather fond of your precious Avengers and so I believe I will give you the choice of which one I save. Then we’ll call the debt repaid.”
A chill ran down Phil’s spine. The feeling was made worse when Clint sniffled sleepily and rolled over, getting more comfortable on the repositioned pillow. Phil didn’t take his eyes off Loki, but Loki registered the observation and smiled.
“Yes, your dear archer is a good candidate. He’s told you about his trip to Calgary and the movements he failed to report. What if I told you those movements came at my suggestion. There was a blasphemous little man there whom I suggested Clint dispatch. He was a ‘dangerous threat to the world,’ and all that. Needed to be stopped, blah, blah, blah. The thoughts came so naturally to him. He did his job. And then, of course, I suggested he forget all about it. It was in his best interest, really. It was a rather messy affair. I can only imagine the nightmares it would have left. But, I’m sure your Director will treat him fairly when he finds out. He seems a reasonable man. Prone to forgiveness.”
Phil thought about that for a moment. Fury would lock Clint away if he knew he was being controlled to that extent. He wouldn’t even think twice about it.
Loki’s smiled broadened as he watched Phil think. “Or actually, I could make things easier for everyone and just suggest he stop breathing. I’m sure he would take the suggestion and all would be resolved. Justice served. A man like you can appreciate that, I’m sure. You do love justice.”
Clint let out a long breath and Phil turned to watch. He stared at Clint’s chest. For several agonizing seconds, he waited for Clint to take a breath that didn’t come.
“You said ‘which one,’ meaning I have a choice that I haven’t made yet,” he said, warningly.
“True,” Loki replied and as he did, Clint took in another breath. Phil relaxed, suddenly realizing he’d been holding his own breath.
“Yes,” Loki continued. “Your Mr. Stark is an interesting fellow, isn’t he? I’m told his skills rival those of the blacksmith dwarves of Asgard. That’s quite the feat. But you know what they have that he lacks? Obedience. They never create beyond what Odin commands. Mr. Stark, however, creates whatever he likes. He is his own All Father and no one commands him. Am I right?”
Phil thought back to his last conversation with Tony and knew that he was. Tony only ever wondered about what he could do, not what he should or shouldn’t do.
“Well it seems that Mr. Stark is quite pleased with the way you’ve turned out and he’s refocused his attention on other projects. Are you aware that he’s already injected Dr. Banner with… what do you call them? Nanites? Similar little creatures to the ones he filled you with, but with slightly different purpose. As I understand, he’s trying to rid the good doctor of his heavily muscled roommate. Tsk, tsk,” he added, shaking his head and admonition. He leaned closer to Phil and whispered. “I don’t think the green brute will like that kind of attention, do you?”
Loki sat back and resumed smiling. “I can’t imagine very many people in the building will survive the ensuing melee, certainly not those nearest him when he emerges.” Loki turned and looked at Phil like he had only just thought of a concern. “How was Miss Potts the last time you saw her? Well?”
Loki’s smile slowly extended as he let Phil think of her and how near to Tony she would undoubtedly be when all hell broke loose.
“I can’t imagine Dr. Banner will survive the process, either. They aren’t really two creatures that can be separated. They are one and the same. Though, I can’t imagine a man of Mr. Stark’s arrogance will accept that. At least, not until it’s too late and he’s standing over the broken body of his lover like a Dr. Frankenstein.”
Phil knew he was right about that as well. It was a fear remarkably similar to the one he’d already developed.
Loki stood and glanced at his reflection in the wall mirror. He brushed a loose lock of hair aside and turned back to Phil. “I can stop it all just as simply as casting my power against the nanites. They disappear and poof, no more problems. Everyone lives. So which will you choose, Sugar Lips? Do I release your lover or do I save your friends?”
Phil considered him for a long moment. He sat coolly and considered both Loki’s words and Frigga’s earlier warning. She’d reminded Phil of Thor’s ways and as Phil thought them over, he suddenly realized what she’d meant. He pulled his hand from under the pillow and set the knife down on the bedside stand. Then, tired, naked, and defenseless , Phil Coulson addressed the petty god.
“Well, I have to say, Loki, you gave it a real good try. Dramatic, emotional… it hit all the right notes. I think anyone other than me might have thought you actually held the power in this situation.”
The smile disappeared from Loki’s face.
“Using Clint’s ‘Sugar Lips,’ nickname was a real nice touch. It really played to the emotions. But let me tell you what’s going to happen next,” Phil continued. “You’re going to release Clint from your control, not because it will settle the debt between us, but because you’re not as immortal as you’d like us to think. You know Odin gave me a small gift and if you don’t release Clint, I will use it to kill you.”
“Then you will have no power left for yourself. How will you keep your batteries running?” Loki asked, putting malicious emphasis on the word ‘batteries.’
“With Clint gone, what would I have left to live for?”Phil replied with a deadly seriousness. He watched the smile drop completely from Loki’s face. “If Fury tries to lock him up, I’ll be there to speak on his behalf. Fury will listen to me and to the other Avengers. This isn’t our first experience with possession.”
“As for Dr. Banner and the ‘Big Guy,’” Phil continued, “I have no doubt Tony has done what you say and I actually thank you for the head’s up. I’ll be sure to have a conversation with him about it in the morning, but if the Big Guy emerges and wreaks havoc in the meantime, well, we’ll stop him. We always find a way. I’m not too worried about that or about Dr. Banner because you’re right about them needing one another. The Big Guy knows it and because of it, won’t let anything happen to Banner. We’ll find him sitting pretty somewhere once everything calms down.”
Loki had begun to pale as his plan started to fall apart. Phil thought he looked like a child being lectured before a grounding.
“Oh, and Miss Potts is actually a lot tougher than she looks, so I wouldn’t worry too much about her. She’s come through some pretty fair scrapes. I’ve often considered making her an agent, but I will say, it was a nice touch on your part to try to play my emotions there. You took a really broad-spectrum approach in all of this and I respect that.”
“You’re awfully confident, human.”
“No more Sugar Lips? Pity. But see, here’s why I’m so confidant: because although you’d like to cheat me of what I am due and try to convince me you are somehow extending a favor, I know that your debt to me isn’t cleared until I say it’s cleared. The terms are mine alone to name. The arcane rules of Asgardian chivalry might not be as familiar to most as they are to me, but then again, I’ve spent a lot of time with your brother and I’ve learned quite a lot about debts of honor. I will call for that debt to be repaid when I wish it and not a moment earlier. Is that clear?”
Loki looked away and clenched his hands behind his back, the game clearly lost.
“I asked if that was clear?”
Loki snapped his attention back with a tight-lipped snarl. He breathed for a second and then, reluctantly, bowed his head in acknowledgment.
“Good,” Phil replied. “Now release Clint and leave. I will call for you when I’m ready.”
Loki was gone in a blink and Phil closed his eyes. He took a deep breath and relaxed his shoulders. It had been a hell of a bluff, but then again, he’d done more with less before.
He shimmied back under the sheets and rolled over against Clint. Clint stirred at the touch and rolled over, slowly opening his eyes to look at Phil.
“You ok?” he asked in a sleepy slur.
“I’m fine.” He kissed Clint at his hair line and leaned against him, closing his own tired eyes. “Go back to sleep, love. I think we’re going to have a big day tomorrow.”
*******