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Origins of a nickname

Summary:

All seasoned agents of S.H.I.E.L.D have come to learn three key facts:
1) Leaving unattended food in the break room will result in R & D breaking out the hazmat suits.
2) Fury is a lying liar who lies.
3) No one knows why Agent Coulson is nicknamed Cheese 

Fury informs Coulson that the Avengers still think he's dead.
Fury underestimates just how far Phil is willing to push himself in order to see Clint again.

Notes:

This was supposed to be cracky fluff. I don't know where the angst came from.
Inspired by Phil's nickname. (obviously)

Work Text:

All seasoned agents of S.H.I.E.L.D have come to learn three key facts:

1) Leaving unattended food in the break room will result in R & D breaking out the hazmat suits.

2) Fury is a lying liar who lies.

3) No one knows why Agent Coulson is nicknamed Cheese

 

---

 

Phil wakes to an angry eye staring at him.

It takes every ounce of his considerable self control not to whimper at the sight of a scowling Nick Fury.

He's visited before, silent apart from commending Phil for following his order of, "Do not die, Agent!", and on his last visit, after explaining that a psych evaluation had deemed Clint free of mind-control, had informed Phil he had spent three days on the operating table, with an experimental procedure derived from Captain America's DNA. Phil would have appreciated it more if his brain hadn't been whispering, Why hasn't Clint come? again and again.

After a moment, Fury leans back and heaves a sigh. "They think you're dead."

It's a testament to how out of it Phil is when it takes him more than a moment to comprehend the meaning of the Director's words. "You didn't-" he chokes, in a voice rusty from disuse and crackling from pain. "You didn't tell them I'm recovering?"

Fury shakes his head, and it takes all the strength Phil can muster to plead, shaky and broken, "Clint, too?"

Fury looks at him, face closing down into an impassive mask rivaling even Phil's own, and his response is to stride out of the room, black cloak swirling. The door shuts behind him with a soft thump.

 

The thump appears to mark the exact moment Agent Phillip James Coulson of S.H.I.E.L.D decides that he has had enough of Nick Fury. From then onwards, Agent Coulson gives all outward appearances of being asleep in a cramped room in S.H.I.E.L.D Medical. Brain activity appears to be heightened during this time.

 

Reports of Agent Coulson's escape from Medical vary.

Following the inexplicable deletion of the video surveillance feeds and the severe short-term memory loss followed by all operatives in the surrounding area, the only source of information - barring Agent Coulson himself - is recording device M26-B. Said device was prepared to provide an audio feed of vent activity in order to employ diversionary tactics should a certain Agent decide to look for the mysteriously missing body of his handler.

After listening to the recording three times, a team of specially trained analysts managed to identify Agent Coulson's footsteps, and assign a litany of pained shrieks to each professional in the area at the time of the occurrence.

It is interesting to note that said shrieks occurred in a time period of twenty six seconds, indicating an operational speed far greater than any recovering Agent should be able to muster.

A single, later scream lasting approximately ten seconds was easily identified as Agent Mulholland after attempting to detain Agent Coulson at the exit. Eyewitness reports indicate said Agent was strung precisely 1.96 meters off the ground by her ankle, held aloft with medical tape from a stationary ceiling fan, and had passed out from moderate head trauma, possibly causing the abrupt end of said scream.

 

A familiar, businesslike knock on Fury's door heralds the approach of an unruffled Phil Coulson, suited in medical scrubs and carrying a clipboard. "Sir," he intones, in response to Fury's pointed glare, and places the clipboard on the Director's desk.

Fury takes a moment to speak, and when he does, it's with a soft, predatory quality. "What are you doing outside of Medical, Agent Coulson?"

Phil blinks, unfazed. "I've been cleared."

Fury reaches for the clipboard before hesitating, glancing up at Phil quickly. After a moment, he chuckles softly, and picks up the clipboard. He is greeted with Requisitional Form 742.

"Why would you requisition tranquil-" he begins, incredulity coloring his tone.

 

When Jasper Sitwell passes by the Director's office, he catches a glimpse of a figure bent over a desk as Agent Coulson conscientiously shuts the door.

Satisfied, he continues onwards, only to perform something he will henceforth deny was a double take before processing the notable lack of Agent Coulson and the ceiling vent cover unobtrusively closing.

 

Surveillance footage shows Agent Sitwell proceeding to open the door of the Director's office, appearing to be startled at the sight of the Director snoring lightly onto his paperwork, and murmuring something that is assuredly not, "Fucking hell."

 

By the time Agent Hill and Agent Sitwell had mobilized a sufficiently skilled force in order to assist in the capture of Agent Coulson, Agent Coulson had already taken control of the Helicarrier, establishing a predetermined flight route to a set of coordinates leading to Alaska. He then proceeded to remove an unconscious pilot from the cabin after turning off the power for the flight specialists' computers.

When the unofficially named "Coulson Capture Company" arrived at the scene, they were treated to a memorable glimpse of Agent Coulson's suit jacket as he entered the last remaining escape pod, having already ejected the rest in order to prevent capture.

The aforementioned analyst team concluded that Agent Phil Coulson did not have the time, the resources, nor the mobility required in order to change into his suit. After over three hours of impassioned debate, they concluded that said suit was apparently a mass-induced hallucination triggered by the shock of seeing Agent Coulson after believing he was dead.

The matching tie used to gag and restrain the pilot was confiscated by R & D after displaying telescopic tendencies and was never mentioned again. Said tie may or may not have become the inspiration for R & D's latest design, a pair of handcuffs cleverly disguised as a neckerchief.

 

---

 

It's been three days, and Clint still hasn't come out of his rooms.

Tony's enthusiastic approach of employing his entire robot cavalry to pound on Clint's door had been mysteriously curtailed by the end of the first day. Clint suspects it had to do with Natasha tentatively revealing his relationship with Phil to the team, but he can't bring himself to care.

The vice-like crush in his chest has faded into a dull, throbbing pain, but Clint can still hear Phil's last words to him, the murmured, casual "Love you," he'd offered as Clint left their shared apartment, a sleek S.H.I.E.L.D car ready to transport him to the P.E.G.A.S.U.S facility.

Clint knows the pain will never leave. He doesn't want it to.

For the life of him, he can't remember if he'd replied. He can't remember if he took the time to properly appreciate Phil and everything he'd done, properly appreciate how Phil had risked his career in order to recruit Clint, trusting him implicitly enough to risk it over and over on both Natasha and Budapest.

Clint's eyes burn, and his throat aches.

Could it be that Phil died and didn't realize how Clint loved him? How Clint trusted him so implicitly he had let down every single one of his barriers, for the first time in his life? That he had died without remembering the vulnerability Clint let him see, the memories Clint shared with him, tangles of twisted emotions and hurtful words, the life Clint had built around the two years they were together?

Clint remembers the first time Phil said he loved Clint. It was less than a week before Clint's fateful departure, before his world lost the one person who anchored it. Phil had pulled back from their kiss, tender eyes shining, and said the words, slowly and clearly, mindful of the hearing aids Clint had carefully deposited on their bedside table. And throughout their gentle, simmering lovemaking, he had breathed the words into Clint's skin, mouthing them over and over again.

"I don't want you to say it because you feel obligated to." Phil had admitted quietly, after wiping down both himself and Clint, gently helping Clint slip his hearing aids in, mindful of the sniper's trembling hands. "I just want you to know. Whenever you're ready, all you have to do is say them back."

Clint never said it back, and now he never will.

 

"Sir."

Clint ignores JARVIS.

"Sir," JARVIS repeats, more urgent this time, and Clint is caught by surprise when he realizes JARVIS sounds excited. "You may want to view this."

Clint lifts his head from his pillow, tear-reddened eyes still as sharp as ever, and the AI takes his motion as assent. A holographic screen appears in front of him, and he stares at the surveillance footage for a moment before recognizing the interior of the Helicarrier's cockpit.

"Master Stark has taken the liberty of installing me onto S.H.I.E.L.D servers." JARVIS explains as Clint wonders what he is supposed to see. "Director Fury acquiesced, but instructed me to restrict my surveillance to specific areas, including this one. Approximately fifty-seven seconds ago, an unexpected disturbance occurred, which I will proceed to show you."

Clint takes in the pilot idly tapping in coordinates with weary eyes, before snapping to attention as the door smashes off its hinges, revealing an all-too-familiar figure.

His heart lurches.

Said figure proceeds to disarm the pilot in two fluid movements, lithely removing his own tie as a makeshift restraint, and proceeds to dump the unresponsive body in the corridor before quickly tapping in new coordinates and purposefully striding back out.

"Phil," Clint breathes, and the ache inside him eases for the first time.

"My sensors have detected several emergency pods systematically being ejected out of the carrier," JARVIS continues. "I am unaware of the exact number, but it appears that one is headed towards the Avengers tower. I am currently attempting to inform all other members of the group of the circumstances, and Master Stark has already approved allowing the craft to land."

Clint's breath seizes in his throat and he only realizes he's moved when he's pulling on a new pair of pants. "Tony's seen this already?"

The AI's voice is ever so faintly warm. "He recommended I show it to you."

Clint resolves to thank Tony Stark at the next presented opportunity before fumbling with his door and dashing to the elevator, rapidly hitting the button to take him to the landing area.

 

On the way down, the elevator stops three times, admitting, in order, a semi-sleeping scientist, a sheepish national icon, and a Russian assassin.

Bruce offers Clint a tiny smile, eyes sparkling.

Steve claps him on the back, but seems to realize that offering congratulations while Clint's heart painfully hopes against hope that Phil is back isn't a wise course of action, and remains silent.

When Natasha enters the elevator, she opens her arms and Clint sinks into them.

She whispers sweet nothings into his ear, soft, gentle Russian, as Clint tries to work out how to breathe again. "What if it's not him?" he asks, heart suddenly plummeting, "Oh god, Tash, what if it's not him?"

She pushes him back slightly, hands on his shoulders, letting him see the certainty and determination stamped all over her face. "It is him." she states, bearing no argument, and catches Clint when he nearly collapses because he and Phil are the two people Tasha has never lied to.

 

When the elevator stops with a soft ding, Clint nearly tumbles out, Tasha stalking silently, gracefully by his side, Bruce and Steve falling in step behind them.

Tony's already there, and he smirks at Clint, but the wisecrack doesn't seem to be coming and Clint realizes with a shock that Tony Stark cares about Phil. His realization must be evident, since Stark whispers, "Don't let your boyfriend know," before assuming his cocky grin once more.

A dark speck in the sky rapidly resolves itself as an emergency pod, and Clint watches, heart thundering in his ears, as it lands smoothly onto Stark's specially designed pad. He moves closer to the windows, and they open almost in sync with the pod itself, and Clint sways, almost in a trance, as a man wearing a suit and no tie cautiously steps out, squinting in the sunlight.

"Clint," Phil says, and Clint tackles him, hugging him tight before he takes in Phil's labored breaths and pants of pain.

"Phil," is torn from his lips as he shifts their position, moving his arms around Phil, taking on most of their collective weight, and Phil kisses him before retreating backwards with a hiss.

"Left medical," he gasps with no further urging, and Clint will laugh at him later, but now all he cares about is easing Phil's pain, so when Steve offers him help, he gladly shuffles Phil around so the blond super-soldier can carry some of the weight.

 

When Nick Fury arrives almost an hour later, a vaguely paper-shaped imprint on his eyepatch, with Agents Hill and Sitwell in tow, they are denied access.

"Agent Agent is an Avenger, and Avengers are exempt from your jurisdiction." Stark informs them, clearly pleased.

"Don't think you're exempt from ours, though," Bruce chimes in, and Natasha nods her agreement in a way that manages to promise violent retribution for their actions in the not-so-distant future.

 

If Agent Hill appears to mislay a folder containing all relevant paperwork and a "Get Well Soon!" card, no one mentions it.

And no one mentions it when she becomes the deputy Avengers liaison to the S.H.I.E.L.D, reporting directly to Agent Coulson, and if she happens to mysteriously obtain visitation rights sone time later, well, no one has to know.

 

---

 

Clint stays by Phil's bedside, at the medical wing Stark specifically built for emergencies, across from the indoor shooting range.

When the hurriedly hired doctor bemusedly pronounces Phil medically sound, only requiring rest in order to avoid aggravating his healing injuries, Clint can't help the grin that spreads across his face.

The doctor exits muttering about, "Physical impossibilities," and "Damn superheroes," and when Clint looks down, Phil's face is studiously blank, but the corners of his eyes are crinkling.

Steve looks at Clint, then at Phil. "As much as I'd like to, ahem, watch over you as you're unconscious," he begins, pausing as Phil huffs a laugh and Clint fixes him with a stare of wide-eyed wonder, "I think I'll give you some alone time before Tony drags everyone back down here and begins betting on when you'll get married."

Steve can't quite hide his self-satisfied smile as he leaves, and Phil needs to gently stroke Clint's arm to regain his attention.

"Who knew the Capsicle had a sense of humor, eh?" Clint tries, after his momentary lapse, but he knows Phil isn't fooled when his eyes soften. "Don't." Clint says, and he means it. "Just... just let me get used to you."

Phil fixes him with a discerning gaze, and Clint begins to fidget uncomfortably before Phil drops his eyes. After a moment, he begins talking, softly, and Clint listens, clasping Phil's hand.

"Fury told me you didn't know I was alive," Phil admits, softly, and Clint's heart jerks. "And I asked him if, if you knew. He said no."

Clint sniffs, nearly jolting in surprise when a tear splashes on his hand. "I spent the next day planning my escape," Phil continues, choosing to ignore it, and Clint is so thankful because he hates crying, he hates crying because crying makes him feel a sickly kind of helplessness he'd never wanted to feel again.

"I never wanted you to go through that." Phil looks at Clint then, blue eyes wide and pleading. "Please," he says, voice cracking, "Don't be angry."

Clint's breath leaves him in a rush when he realizes what he's projecting, what he's making Phil believe, and he barely considers it before he slides into Phil's bed, beside him. After a moment, the words come.

"I thought I lost you, you idiot."

Clint's throat seizes up, but he pushes on. "I'm not angry at you. I could never, not in a million years, be angry at you. I'm angry at Fury and I'm fucking pissed at the World Security Council and I swear I will kill Loki, but..."

Phil clutches at his hand, and Clint fumbles their fingers together, and forces the words out, because he wants to say them now, because he's going to say what he was too afraid to say before. "I love you, Phil."

When Phil's face lights up, breaking into a luminescent smile, as if Clint has given him the world, Clint can't help himself, doesn't want to help himself, and he kisses Phil, long, slow, and deep.

When he can speak again, he says, "Please don't go," and it's painfully honest, achingly vulnerable to his own ears, lost and shaky, and Phil hugs him, ignoring the pain Clint knows still stabs at his chest.

"I love you too," Phil breathes, every word a promise, and then, "Never leaving again."

 

---

 

All seasoned agents of S.H.I.E.L.D have come to learn three key facts:

1) Leaving unattended food in the break room will result in R & D breaking out the hazmat suits.

2) Fury is a lying liar who lies.

3) Cheese - a pejorative term referring to a highly unconventional strategy designed to take an opponent by surprise. Usually results in an overwhelming victory.