Full Summary:

Have you picked up on the clip in The First Avenger with the young boy holding a trash can lid painted to look like Captain America's shield? His mom calls him Phil. I know him now as Phil Coulson, later agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. At first you think he'd be way too old, but did you ever consider that the U.S. started trying to recreate the super-soldier serum after Captain America? And who would be the first to sign up? Agent Coulson.

He didn't get those Captain America trading cards off of EBay. He's had them since he was a little boy.

This is his story.

Prologue:

Monday, July 7, 1944

"Phil, time for dinner!"

"Coming, mom!" Phil Coulson called back.

He hid his makeshift shield in the alley near his house. If one of the other boys found it the next day before him, they would get to play Captain America.

He couldn't have that.

He entered their tiny one-story house through the back door. His mother, Julie, was setting the table in the dining room, and if he ran into her, he'd have to help. So he snuck in and went to wash his hands. Unfortunately, the door creaked on his way in.

"Phil, is that you? Come help me with the table, please."

Phil sighed. "Yes, ma'am."

Family dinner was always important in the Coulson household. But with his father away at war (he was a military doctor), it was just him and his mother. Robert Coulson's place sat vacant, as if it needed to prove to them every night that he was gone. He had already been away for a year and a half, returning only once, when he caught the flu. But Phil and his mother made by fine, always keeping him in mind as they said the blessing over their food every evening.

"I got a letter from your father today," his mother said.

Phi's face brightened. "How is he? Have the soldiers he's been travelling with beaten the bad guys yet?"

"He hasn't said a word about that. I don't think he's allowed to. But he says he's well, and that he hopes you are too. He also said he got to meet Captain America, and he got a signed card just for you."

Phil's face was glowing now "Where is it?"

"He couldn't send it with the letter, but he says he'll get it to you soon."

Monday, September 22, 1944

Phil was in the middle of grammar class when he got called out.

What had he done wrong? No one who went to the principal's office ever came back without punishment. But he hadn't done anything, at least, not that he knew of.

But he wasn't in trouble. He entered the office to find his mother standing there, sobbing. Hot tears streamed down her face, smudging her carefully done makeup. It scared him more than anything else in his later life: he had never seen his mother cry.

"What's wrong, Mother?" Phil asked.

Julie Coulson couldn't speak for a few seconds before calming down enough to tell him the bad news. "It's your father. There was a bombing. He's… he's…"

She couldn't finish the sentence, but she didn't need to. Phil, only nine years old, knew the last word before she even spoke it.

"…dead"

At first he just stood there. He didn't know what to do. A scream pierced the air. It took him a few seconds to realize it was his own. He threw himself into his mother's arms. She held him as the sympathetic secretary looked on.

She carried Phil out of the building. A taxi was waiting at the curb.

The ride home was torturous. Phil's chest started hurting, but he couldn't stop his tears, nor his interspersed hiccups and sobs. His mother spent the whole ride staring out the window, eyes glazed over with tears, clutching her son close, as if he would be torn away from her too.

Tuesday, September 30, 1944

Phil lay on his stomach in bed, trying to get rid of his feeling. If only it were possible to go emotionally numb. He sorted and resorted his Captain America trading cards. He had so many by now; they were his prized possessions. But he would give them all away if he could only have one more minute with his father, even just a moment.

Stop, he told himself. I can't think of him. Each thought ripped open a new tear in his wounded heart, forcing more tears to come out of his poor, tired eyes. He never knew it was possible to cry so much. Well, he was wrong. He was wrong about other things too, like the fact that Captain America was the greatest man in the world. No, he knew now that his father was, at least to him.

His mother let him be after his father's funeral. He couldn't see her face without thinking of her and his father together, smiling, a happy couple. It hurt to think that they would never be together again. Now all he had was his mom, his trading cards, and the one living role model: Captain America. He knew now that he would grow up and fight just like him for his country. It wouldn't get his father back, but it would ease his mind knowing others wouldn't have to go through the same thing he was going through.

Ok, so here's what IS and was is NOT canon in this chapter: Phil Coulson's birthday was July 8, but it was in 1964, not 1938. His parents were actually named Robert and Julie. Robert died on September 22, but 32 years later in 1973. Other than that, canon hasn't changed. I just put this note in here for all of those who are interested, because, yes, I looked up what I didn't know.

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