AN: A short piece I wrote after watching the first couple episodes of Agents of SHIELD.
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It was in the down time that Ward let himself wonder about Agent Coulson. The time between missions, the time between gunfights and fistfights. The senior agent was as much an open book as he was a mystery. Fury had often referred to him as his "one good eye" and at first meeting Ward couldn't believe that the unassuming Phil Coulson was worth his salt. He didn't look intimidating. If anything he looked like an accountant. An accountant that could take out two armed robbers with a bag of flour, a voice in Ward's head reminded him.
He didn't discount Coulson's abilities by any means. Ward frowned and studied his supervisor who was reading of all things a Captain America comic book as the Bus took them to their next mission.
"Something on your mind, Ward?" Coulson asked him, not looking up from the comic.
"Nothing, sir," Ward mumbled, a little embarrassed at being caught staring.
"It has to be something," Coulson finally looked up from the comic. Leaving a finger between the pages to mark his place. "Is it about the Peruvians?"
"No, sir, not the Peruvians." Silence lapsed over the two agents. Fitz and Simmons were in the lab, working even in their free time. May was piloting and Skye was sleeping in her bunk.
"Did it hurt?" The words were out before Ward could stop them.
"Stubbing my toe in the bathroom this morning?" Coulson gave him a knowing smile.
Ward could feel the color creeping up from his collar. "I was out of the country when the attack happened. It was all over the news."
"As it should have been," Coulson nodded. "I was unconscious in the infirmary when the attack hit. Blissfully unaware of the events."
"Are you angry that Fury used your 'death' to spur the Avengers on?" Ward didn't know if it was almost falling out of a plane or the half finished beer in front of him that was making him so bold.
"You sound like my therapist," Coulson laughed and finally gave up on the comic book, using a napkin to mark his place and setting it to the side. "Upset? No. Angry? Not really. If I had been in the same position I probably would have done the same. We lost a lot of people in the attack on New York. Not just SHIELD agents and police, but civilians and bystanders that were just trying to get a cup of coffee on their morning commute. And if losing just one less person because Tony Stark got over his own ego to be there; it was worth it."
"They didn't stop all the pain."
"No, but they eased it. Even now, after the battle. They're a security blanket that people cling to because if something comes to harm us, Ironman will be there to kick their ass."
"People are scared." Ward pointed out.
"People are always scared. If it isn't a fear of hunger and death, then it's a fear of pouty Asgardian children looking to settle a score." Coulson shrugged.
"The fear won't go away overnight," Ward reiterated his point.
"There will be scars," Coulson agreed, reaching under the collar of his shirt to rub at his chest. "Both physical and psychological."
