Fic: Wish I Stayed
Jun. 11th, 2012 10:01 pmTitle: Wish I Stayed
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Summary: Coulson was luckier than the team would ever know.
A/N: This is my little 'fix it' fic for the movie; as they say on Mythbusters I reject your reality and substitute my own. And as such there are spoilers for the Avengers movie.
He was falling.
Reaching out, he tried to find some kind of purchase but his hands closed around air. No matter how many times he tried, there was nothing to grab. All of a sudden the ground was rushing towards him and he lifted his hands automatically to protect his face.
But there was no impact.
Just a blinding white light.
Phil Coulson opened his eyes and realized that he had fallen asleep on the deck that overlooked the ocean. Stretching cautiously, his wound from Loki still very much in the healing process, Coulson then stood and stared for a few moments at the deep blue that extended as far as he could see. Fury told him that he was lucky-two more inches to the left and his heart would've been pierced, killing him almost instantly. He’d been here for a few months now, as soon as he had been well enough to travel, but it felt like years.
He was used to being in the thick of things, right in the middle; not watching from the sidelines and he didn’t know what to do with himself. So he did what he did best-observed from within.
Feeling slightly chilled despite the sunlight, Coulson moved inside and moved into the spacious, albeit empty safe house that Fury had set up for him. The summer season was winding down in Texas and as a result everyone was shifting their focus to the coming winter; hardly paying attention to the beach house that was occupied from time to time.
Since arriving he had developed some semblance of a routine; rise early and walk on the beach, then it was coffee and reading the local paper, followed by another walk and maybe a trip into town to the local diner for lunch, then in the afternoon he listened to the news in the background as he ghosted through the SHIELD network or looking online for Captain America cards to replace those that were damaged in the ruse, while in the evening he read until he fell asleep and tried not to dream much.
Repeat the next day.
Since Phil was technically “dead” he shouldn’t have been on the database but he couldn’t keep away. He needed to see how the repairs on the Helicarrier were going while keeping tabs on the team-see how they were doing after everything. But he was careful to cover his tracks so Stark or Hill wouldn’t know what was going on under their noses; although Fury had told him that Maria was skeptical of the whole charade but Coulson was sure that if she really wanted to figure out the truth she would.
He’d trained her after all.
But he’d trained only the ones who he thought had a lot of potential-like Barton and Romanov.
At the thought of the archer and the spy, Coulson paused and set his datapad down-just realizing that he would’t be their handlers anymore. Or anyone from the team really. Oh he’d known it as soon as Fury told him that as far as everyone was concerned he was dead but the realization hadn’t hit him until just now.
Shaking the feeling off, he picked up the pad and continued his digging. He knew that it was for the best, that they had needed a catalyst to pull them all together; to unite them and save Earth.
Finding that the repairs were on schedule (he even helped to expedite a few things to make it go a bit faster), sending Fury info on what his contacts in Russia were saying about an ex-Soviet spy who hadn't wanted to retire and decided to freelance and checking to make sure that Barton and Romanov hadn’t killed each other yet reassured Phil that the entire organization hadn’t fallen apart since his departure.
And that after his transfer it’d stay that way.
Coulson didn’t hold onto any false ideas that he’d be back on the Helicarrier once he was fully healed, too many questions would have to be answered and too many trusts would be broken-even if they were broken for the right reasons. The team he’d helped recruit, believed in would never know that he was alive.
Once he was back to one-hundred percent he’d most likely be sent somewhere remote; where Stark, Barton or Romanov could find him but he would still be involved with SHIELD. Some kind of desk job most likely.
That’s what happened in his line of work, either you died in the field or you ended up finishing out your years behind a desk.
But Coulson wouldn’t have it any other way, he lived for the adrenaline rush that came with taking down the bad guy and knew that even though he didn’t have any superpowers he could still kick ass.
Just hand him a bag of flour.
Rating: G
Warnings: none
Summary: Coulson was luckier than the team would ever know.
A/N: This is my little 'fix it' fic for the movie; as they say on Mythbusters I reject your reality and substitute my own. And as such there are spoilers for the Avengers movie.
He was falling.
Reaching out, he tried to find some kind of purchase but his hands closed around air. No matter how many times he tried, there was nothing to grab. All of a sudden the ground was rushing towards him and he lifted his hands automatically to protect his face.
But there was no impact.
Just a blinding white light.
Phil Coulson opened his eyes and realized that he had fallen asleep on the deck that overlooked the ocean. Stretching cautiously, his wound from Loki still very much in the healing process, Coulson then stood and stared for a few moments at the deep blue that extended as far as he could see. Fury told him that he was lucky-two more inches to the left and his heart would've been pierced, killing him almost instantly. He’d been here for a few months now, as soon as he had been well enough to travel, but it felt like years.
He was used to being in the thick of things, right in the middle; not watching from the sidelines and he didn’t know what to do with himself. So he did what he did best-observed from within.
Feeling slightly chilled despite the sunlight, Coulson moved inside and moved into the spacious, albeit empty safe house that Fury had set up for him. The summer season was winding down in Texas and as a result everyone was shifting their focus to the coming winter; hardly paying attention to the beach house that was occupied from time to time.
Since arriving he had developed some semblance of a routine; rise early and walk on the beach, then it was coffee and reading the local paper, followed by another walk and maybe a trip into town to the local diner for lunch, then in the afternoon he listened to the news in the background as he ghosted through the SHIELD network or looking online for Captain America cards to replace those that were damaged in the ruse, while in the evening he read until he fell asleep and tried not to dream much.
Repeat the next day.
Since Phil was technically “dead” he shouldn’t have been on the database but he couldn’t keep away. He needed to see how the repairs on the Helicarrier were going while keeping tabs on the team-see how they were doing after everything. But he was careful to cover his tracks so Stark or Hill wouldn’t know what was going on under their noses; although Fury had told him that Maria was skeptical of the whole charade but Coulson was sure that if she really wanted to figure out the truth she would.
He’d trained her after all.
But he’d trained only the ones who he thought had a lot of potential-like Barton and Romanov.
At the thought of the archer and the spy, Coulson paused and set his datapad down-just realizing that he would’t be their handlers anymore. Or anyone from the team really. Oh he’d known it as soon as Fury told him that as far as everyone was concerned he was dead but the realization hadn’t hit him until just now.
Shaking the feeling off, he picked up the pad and continued his digging. He knew that it was for the best, that they had needed a catalyst to pull them all together; to unite them and save Earth.
Finding that the repairs were on schedule (he even helped to expedite a few things to make it go a bit faster), sending Fury info on what his contacts in Russia were saying about an ex-Soviet spy who hadn't wanted to retire and decided to freelance and checking to make sure that Barton and Romanov hadn’t killed each other yet reassured Phil that the entire organization hadn’t fallen apart since his departure.
And that after his transfer it’d stay that way.
Coulson didn’t hold onto any false ideas that he’d be back on the Helicarrier once he was fully healed, too many questions would have to be answered and too many trusts would be broken-even if they were broken for the right reasons. The team he’d helped recruit, believed in would never know that he was alive.
Once he was back to one-hundred percent he’d most likely be sent somewhere remote; where Stark, Barton or Romanov could find him but he would still be involved with SHIELD. Some kind of desk job most likely.
That’s what happened in his line of work, either you died in the field or you ended up finishing out your years behind a desk.
But Coulson wouldn’t have it any other way, he lived for the adrenaline rush that came with taking down the bad guy and knew that even though he didn’t have any superpowers he could still kick ass.
Just hand him a bag of flour.
no subject
Date: 2012-06-15 06:44 pm (UTC)Great fic
no subject
Date: 2012-06-18 01:08 am (UTC)