I hunched over the chair in the tattoo shop. It was late, technically they were closed but Dylan made exceptions for me. It was the same shop where I had gotten all of my tattoos done – my hawk, widow and my memorial tally marks. Dylan was my favourite tattoo artist, he'd done all of my tattoos and I loved is style. He had come up with the perfect design for each of my tattoos with the limited information available to him and I adored his natural ability.
My tally marks tat needed updated; I hadn't told anyone that I was updating it or why. The timing seemed right for me now – before the ordeal with the Winter Soldier and HYDRA, it was too soon, I was still coming to terms with the fact - but I'd had time and now I had the opportunity to get it done. It had been so long since I'd been at the studio – the last time was a few weeks after I came out of my coma and I'd come to get a tally mark for Phil. Dylan has never really known very much about me – I'd appear either very early or very late and pay in cash. He didn't ask many questions, but the brief amount of time we did talk had led us to get on fairly well.
I'd learned my lesson long ago from the first time and worn a crop top so I wouldn't need to hold a longer top up. Dylan started up the pen. "Ready?"
"Yup"
"Okay" he started. "Is there a tag-line to explain this one?" he asked, half joking; it had become my habit to give him a sentence worth of explanation every other time I was in.
I sighed, "This one is kind of like; I was an orphan then I found my parents then I lost my favourite parent in the divorce then he died."
"Oh, well that sounds… complicated… as usual"
"It is"
It only took about 30 seconds to add another mark to my tat. The sixth tally mark on my tattoo was for Loki. I knew it was controversial, which was why nobody knew I was doing it. But the few times we'd seen each other after the invasion, Loki had been good with me. He had 'visited' without anyone's knowledge to shown me a few things to do with magic and tell me all about Asgard and especially Frigga; I'd been so looking forward to meeting her but Frigga had died not long before Loki. I had considered another tally mark for her but decided it wouldn't be as meaningful as I'd want it to be.
"Okay, done" Dylan leant back and grabbed a damp cloth to wipe my side. I twisted to my left to look down at my addition – I knew what it would look like but to see it there physically was always a good feeling. I counted them off in my head; 1, Mum; 2, Dad; 3 and 4, the unborn twins – who I'd named DJ and Charlie; 5, Phil Coulson; 6, Loki.
I nodded in approval, "Thanks man"
"Any time – saying that, I'm gonna to get upset if I see you coming in here for number seven any time soon"
I brushed it off, "Who knows Dylan, hopefully the next one to kick the bucket will be me – not too soon of course, but before number seven comes, hopefully." I went into my purse to pay him but Dylan stopped me.
"No, put it away – it's not even worth paying me for. Leave it, seriously"
I smiled "Thanks, you didn't need to do that"
"For one, inch long line on your side? Seriously, I did."
"But you stayed open late"
"So? I'm usually in here late anyway"
"Thanks Dylan"
We parted with a one armed hug. I picked up my jacket and bike helmet as I left, holding then in my right hand away from my tat. I walked out the door with a wave, turned towards my motorbike and walked straight into Phil Coulson.
I jumped back, "Phil?" I froze, wide eyes. He wasn't supposed to be here.
"Amanda"
"What are you…?"
"Spotted your bike and decided to come see you, we've not spoke since you phoned me at the base. And before that… it was…"
"It was just after Sif."
"Yeah"
"What you meant was the last time we were anywhere near each other I was being a bitch and walked out on you"
"…Well, yes"
"Yeah… I'm sorry." I shuffled awkwardly on the spot then nodded and I saw him glancing at my tattoo. I looked away from him.
"Last time I saw that tattoo there were only four tally marks on it. That last one looks very fresh; did you get the other one after I… after New York?"
I swallowed, took a deep breath and looked up at Phil again, "Yes"
He nodded, and studied by tattoo, particularly my newest mark "Do you want to talk about that one?"
"Not here" I walked past Phil to my bike, pulled on my jacket and helmet and got on. I looked back at him.
Phil scratched his head, "I, eh, I walked here… do you mind… giving me a lift?"
I laughed, stood up and opened up the seat compartment to get the extra helmet. "Get on." I sat back down and Phil mounted by Harley behind me, putting on the helmet I gave him. "I wasn't avoiding you by the way, I swear – I got back last night, I was taking a few days then I was coming to get you, I promise"
"It's alright Amanda, I understand"
"Thanks. Oh, and Phil?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't touch my tattoo"
"Okay" he said slowly, "Where am I supposed to… touch?"
"Legs, ribs, shoulders – pick one"
"Shoulders it is"
I laughed and started my bike. With my driving style, it took a total of forty three seconds for Phil to go from sitting up behind me with his hands on my shoulders, to being hunched forward with his arms around my torso – hands now on the shoulders opposite from where they had started.
I spotted a decent looking bar just in front of us and turned in to park outside. I stopped my bike and kicked down the stand, took off my helmet and shook my hair free. Phil unwound his arms and sat back. When he took his helmet off he said, "Remind me never to ask you for a lift again."
"Oh grow up, we weren't even off road" Phil got up "Besides," I laughed "you walked. I mean, you can walk back if you like"
He rolled his eyes, "Okay, after today, remind me never to ask you for a lift"
"'Kay" I took Phil's helmet back and returned it to the seat compartment. I dismounted my bike and tucked my helmet under my right arm against my side, "You're paying" I told him as we walked into the pub. It was old fashioned, 'vintage' I guess, not overly busy but not deserted either – it would do perfectly.
"Fine," Phil held the door open for me, "I'm taking it from the way you're holding that helmet that the damage from New York isn't causing you much pain any more"
I was resting my helmet against my side, "Yeah," I nodded, "Got a nice, weird, huge scar but no serious muscle damage that's came to light, so it's looking good"
Phil nodded and we took a seat at the quieter end of the bar. I hopped up onto the stool that was just a little too tall to be convenient, and Phil sat next to me. We talked casually for a while until the bar tender got round to us and got us our drinks; Phil had a whiskey and I opted for something a bit stronger. As soon as the bar tender return to the opposite end of the bar Phil turned to me and said "Mark number six then? Who is it?"
I stared at him, shifting in my seat, taking a mouthful of my drink and swallowing hard as I tried to think how I was best to tell him that I'd tattooed a mark onto my side for the man who had killed him.
"It was Loki, wasn't it?" he asked softly.
"I… how?" I faltered, "Phil, I- how did you…?"
"The last time we saw each other, you had just found out that the last family member you knew was dead, and even though you hid it very well, I can tell when you're hurt. Loki clearly meant more to you than you ever let on, and I understand – I'm sorry"
"Phil..."
"It's okay"
"But he killed you"
"I know"
I stared at him helplessly, "Thank you"
He smiled, "What for?"
"Well…" I laughed, and shook my head, "everything"
Phil pulled my stool closer to his and hugged me tight, "You're welcome" I hugged him back, finding tears welling in the corners of my eyes. "There, there – I've got you, Mandy" he soothed.
"Dear Lord," I laughed through the lump forming in my throat, "That takes me back to being eight years old again"
"Eight year old Amanda had fun"
"Eight year old Amanda went on her first field mission and broke three ribs and an arm"
"And aided in the capture of a mass murdering psychopath. Besides, you enjoyed all the attention afterwards, wore the cast like a badge of honour"
I leant back from him a little and laughed, "Was that the year I made it rain love-heart confetti all through the Triskillion for Valentines Day?"
Phil laughed, "Because you wanted everyone to get 'at least one Valentines surprise'"
"Yeah"
"Didn't you get forty… seven Valentines cards that year?"
I snorted "The first year I got any that weren't just from you and Fury"
"The first of many"
"What can I say, I'm popular"
"Too popular – do you know how many times people have tried to get some soppy love letter to you through me. I almost expect it any time I go to the academy"
I snorted, laughing "Ha, yeah those are the ones who aren't scared to death of me." I sighed "You should have just done it; that would have brightened up many days"
"Yeah, but could you imagine Barton's face?" We laughed. We laughed and everything was better for a while, because if Phil Coulson and I could laugh together honestly, then things could get better – everything could get better because Phil would be there to help me through it.
I knew there were a lot of things I had missed while I was away but I could also see Phil didn't want to talk about it yet. We went back to the hotel they were all staying at, Phil complaining about my driving all the way. After we arrived, he told me about Ward and about Skye; the news hit hard. I could feel the anger building inside me and Phil helped me do a quick training/ cool down session by holding up two pillows in front of him for me to punch. Phil told me that Maria Hill had visited; she'd left me a present – a shoe box filled with different things she knew I liked, like she did for my birthday. I laughed as I opened it, inside was a few large bars of chocolate, Irn Bru, a wooden yoyo, a set of sketching pencils and a thick notebook, a few pretty gemstones and a bouncy ball; yes, they were mostly very silly but they cheered me up. I spent most of the time between opening my gift and going to sleep by chatting to Fitz and Simmons. Later I called Skye over and explained to them all what Lady Sif had meant when she'd said that I was 'the descendant of Loki'. We had some fun, messing around with my magic in the pool. Not long after I'd gone to bed; sharing a double bed with Phil like I used to when I was a kid – what had always been referred to by Clint and Tasha as some 'Baby Manda, Daddy Coulson bonding time' – yeah, it sounds super weird, but Phil practically is my Dad.
