What Was Lost
It's the little things he misses.
He remembers everything as though viewing a movie with the focus slightly off. He remembers the sickening sound of bone snapping as Mack slams down on his forearm with the fire axe. He's aware of footsteps and hands, hands supporting him as Mack supports his arm as Fitz quickly uses his shirt as an improvised tourniquet. The action saves his life by staunching the bright red blood that seems to flow endlessly out of his arm. He feel's Fitz's hands on his head marking him the T an time that signify the moment his life changed again. Mack rolls him onto his back and he can hear Fitz calling for a medic. He's detached from everything until he hears the ship's doctor say they have a transport ready to evacuate him.
"No!" He says, his voice remarkable firm even as he feels consciousness slipping away.
"Sir, we need to get you into surgery im…" The doctor never finishes the sentence.
"NO!" He practically growls out the word giving it extra emphasis and syllables for the usually two-letter word, "I'm still the Director and I will not leave until this ship is secure and the dead and everyone else is taken care of first." He sees Mack and Fitz share a look. Mack opens his mouth to answer back
"I will shoot anyone who attempts to drug me or remove me from this ship until my order is carried out." He fumbles for his sidearm, missing it on the first pass. His fingers find their target on the second grab. He raises it slightly. The overall effect is lost as his arm shakes but the point has been made.
The pain is overwhelming but somehow he manages to keep conscious long enough to direct the cleanup and recovery operations. Finally, they tell him the ship Is secure and he allows the sweet embrace of unconsciousness to take him.
When he awakes he is lying in a hospital bed. In his right arm is an IV line. His left arm is lying on a pillow wrapped in bandages. He wants to look, to see what remains of his forearm but he can't bring himself to stare at the mass of bandages that mark where his arm ends. Instead, he turns his head and his eyes land on a medal box. It's a SHIELD Legion of Valor (Second award) At least, that is what it says on the certificate and write-up that lay with the box. The box itself is closed, and try as he may he can't figure out a way to open it one-handed. He wants to throw it in frustration and tear the certificate up. Instead, he carefully places the box and certificate onto the table. He reaches for the morphine pump button helpfully located by his right hand and allows the warm embrace of narcotics to take him away from everything.
The next times he's awake his is greeted by is surgeon, Doctor Rice. She has a kind, open face but he can't bear to listen to what she has to say no matter how nice she may be telling him the information. As Dr. Rice explains the procedures already done and the surgeries still to come he just lets the words wash over him. He's tired, and frankly, he doesn't care to hear about surgeries or the physical and occupational therapy she's outlined for him. He doesn't care to hear about how he will need to learn to wrap his stump and get it prepared for the prosthesis he will soon wear. He knows deep down in Fury's toolbox is information about Stark's work stabilizing Extremis and about Dr. Helen Cho's groundbreaking work in South Korea regenerating human skin. He's leery after TAHITI about undergoing any experimental procedures at the hands of SHIELD doctors but he knows it is his best chance to be whole. With all respects to the former director he has no desire to go through the rest of his life one-armed, no matter how cool Fury made an eye-patch work he does not want to be missing any of his body parts.
Regardless, for now he is a one-armed man and there are just certain things a one-armed man cannot do without help no matter how stubborn he may be or how much he insists he can do it himself. He was supposed to meet Skye twenty minutes ago. They were going to go check-up on Cal but instead he's standing in front of his closet half dressed.
"Do you want some help?" Her voice is soft and full of concern. He wants to tell her no and to go away and leave him the fuck alone but he doesn't. His nod is so soft she almost misses the slight movement of his head.
"Here." She holds out her hand and he places the clean, white, dress shirt into her outstretched hand. She guides the shirt over his good arm and carefully over his bandages. She buttons his shirt up and he can feel his cheeks burning in embarrassment and he almost can't bring himself to look at her, but he does. He doesn't see judgment or pity just concern in her dark brown eyes.
"Thank you." He croaks out.
"You don't have to thank me, not after everything." She wants to continue but the words get stuck in her throat. She wants to thank him for taking care of Cal and for giving Jiaying a proper funeral but she can't form the words. Instead, she picks up the tie he has placed on the chair and begins to tie a half-Windsor knot.
He's impressed. "Where did you learn to do that?" He manages to croak out. She gives a throaty laugh before answering, "There was a school along with the orphanage. It was K-8 and we had to wear uniforms everyday." Her nose wrinkles at the memory and he laughs. "The parish wasn't rich and we didn't really have anything in terms of playground equipment so mostly the boys would play football. It seems like the girls learned to tie a tie before they did." Coulson smiles. It's rare for Skye to open up about her childhood and he appreciates she chose to do so to him.
"All done Director, you ready to go?"
He nods and tosses her the keys to Lola. Her eyes get wide and he just shrugs, "It's a standard transmission," he says by way of explanation.
"Well boss I promise I will take excellent care of her."
"You better." He wiggles his left arm, now encased in its sling, "I still know a thousand ways to kill a person."
Her eyes get wide and he almost bursts out laughing, "Well then sir, I should probably admit that I still don't have a driver's license." She takes a moment to look at the shocked look on his face before sprinting out of the room laughing madly.
"Wait! What?" He calls after her.
"Just kidding DC!" She throws over her shoulder.
He lets out the breath he was holding and follows her to the garage silently counting all the ways to kill a person one-handed.
The End
AN: Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed it. If you did(or didn't) feel free to leave feedback by using the handy buttons provided.
A little note about the tourniquet usage. When a tourniquet is placed the victim is then marked with a T for tourniquet and the time it was placed. Typically, this is done on the forehead. I figure all SHIELD agents are at least combat lifesaver qualified and would know to do this.
The description Skye gives of the Catholic school was a representation of my elementary school. I went to a small parish school that really couldn't afford teachers or books. We had no gym equipment, music equipment, or playground equipment. Still, many of my formative years were spent there and I still remember it all these years later.
Dr. Rice's name comes from Ming-Na Wen's Dallas FanExpo panel where she said the character of Melinda May was originally supposed to be called Althena Rice. She said it was Maurissa who pointed out that having a Asian character called Agent Rice probably wasn't the best thing.
