Catching a Super
The banging on the barricaded door intensified as a loud crack indicated it would be moments before the barrier was breached.
"You're hurt. I can fix that," Director Phil Coulson said, his voice as cool and calm as if they were on a leisurely walk in the country, rather than in a hot hell-hole in Nam Tam with the local drug lord's thugs trying to break in. "Come with me now. Once they break the door down I can't help you."
The boy continued to desperately rummage through the satchel that hung precariously around his neck, blood dripping down the leg of his raggedy jeans from the wound on his side. All the time he kept one eye on Coulson.
"Please... don't come any closer." He said through gritted teeth as he pulled out a not-so-clean-looking roll of duct tape.
"You're in a tight spot," Coulson continued calmly, coaxingly. "I can help you. I've got people on the roof. They can get us to safety. Trust me."
The boy ripped a piece of tape off and stuck it on the wound on his side. He held a bloody hand out as Coulson took a step closer to him.
"Don't," he said. "Please don't."
"My name is Phil Coulson. I'm an agent of Shield and you can trust me." The boy wasn't convinced. "Your father is Hank Rayon," Coulson said. "Your mother was Rita Skein. She was an agent of Shield," Coulson said, trying hard to read an answer in the boy's face. "Three weeks ago there was an incident. Someone set off a terrigen bomb in this village. Were you exposed to it? Did it change you?"
The boy backed away from Coulson, his eyes wide and afraid.
"If it changed you, you'll be feeling disoriented. Afraid. Alone." Coulson said taking tiny steps towards the boy, careful to keep his body relaxed and open. "Trust me. I can help you. I'll work with you. We'll figure out how to help you take control of your power."
The boy shook wet hair out of his eyes. Sweat glistened on his forehead and upper lip.
"Are you afraid you'll hurt me?" Coulson asked.
"You're the one with the gun," the boy said zipping his satchel shut.
There was a mighty crash at the door and he started, leaping a few steps back so that he stood precariously at the edge of the floor. The side wall of the building had disintegrated long ago. Behind him was a dizzying drop – four stories down.
"Easy," Coulson said. "I'm going to put down my gun." He unclipped his holster, but the boy shook his head.
"You want me to trust you," he said. "Then let me go. And the next time we meet, I promise, I will talk to you."
For a moment he was distracted by the noise at the door. Coulson took a big step forward, reaching for the boy's elbow but he wasn't quick enough. The boy stepped out over the edge, grabbed a rusty iron chain that hung down from the roof and slid down it to the ground.
Coulson rushed to the edge and looked down. He was just in time to see the boy limp out of sight behind a line of shanties in the densely populated streets below.
"I wasn't expecting that," Coulson said to Agent Hunter who was now balancing on the rickety beams above him.
"We have to move now, Boss." Hunter said as the door splintered and men with guns came bursting in. He threw Coulson a rope and hung on to it himself as the invisible quinjet lifted them off the building and out over the sea.
Back on the Bus Agent Fitz showed them the route the boy had taken on the thermo-imaging satellite view of the area.
"He ran this way – straight into the heart of the village. We lost him in the crowds – here," he said, pointing to a mass of moving dots of light. "Must be market day? Do we go after him?"
"No," Coulson said regretfully. "The situation is too volatile right now and we need to get back to base."
"Do you think he's a threat?" May asked Coulson.
"Hard to say," Coulson said frowning at the glowing dots on the screen. "He didn't make any threats. He certainly didn't make a move to hurt me. He didn't even try to defend himself. But it could just be because he doesn't yet control his power – whatever it is."
"Or that he doesn't have a super power," said Agent Simmons. "Sliding down the chain like that – he must have hurt his hands. If we could get his DNA..."
"He had a gunshot wound on his side," Coulson said, reaching into his jacket pocket and pulling out a white cloth soaked in bright red blood. "I swabbed some of his blood off the floor before we left."
"Is that a handkerchief?" Fitz asked incredulously. "You carry a handkerchief with you?"
Coulson looked perplexed. "You don't?" he asked. "Let's get back to base," he told May without waiting for a response from Fitz.
Three weeks later the team was flying over Omaha looking at grainy traffic footage from the day before.
"It's definitely him," Fitz said, pulling up an enhanced still shot and blowing it up. "But how did he get to Omaha from Nam Tam?"
"Perhaps he can fly?" Simmons suggested, peering at the image of the boy over Fitz's shoulder. "His blood work was off the charts – just like Skye's. He was definitely affected by the terrigen bomb."
"Then why didn't he fly away when we cornered him? Or teleport – if that's his super power." Hunter asked.
Coulson shook his head. "I don't think it has anything to do with movement. I don't really think he is a threat..."
"But we need to make sure." May's voice was icy over the intercom.
Coulson nodded – almost reluctantly it seemed. "Yes, we need to make sure. And he did promise to speak to me if I let him go."
"Well, you tried to stop him," Hunter pointed out. "Does that count?"
A red light blinked on a corner of the screen and Fitz pulled it centre screen. "Are you seeing this?" he asked incredulously. "This is real time traffic-cam footage."
"That's Mac!" Hunter exclaimed. "If Mac's there Bobbi can't be far away."
"What are they doing in Omaha? Could they be on to the boy?" Simmons asked.
"Fitz, try and find the boy," Coulson said. "May..."
"We need to be on the ground now." May said from the cockpit, initiating the plane's descent.
On the ground Mac is at a coffee shop sipping a large coffee and pretending to read a book. Hunter slides into the seat in front of him.
"Come on Mac, you don't read," he says, "So what are you really doing here? Waiting for Bobbi?"
"Hunter." It's not clear if Mac is surprised or not. He looks around. "Are you with Coulson?"
"I asked first." Hunter is deliberately belligerent. "Why are you here, Mac?"
"We can play this game all day, but you know and I know that you're just the decoy. Coulson's where the real action is – isn't he?"
"And you and I both know that you're the decoy. Bobbi's where the real action is."
"I'm flattered. Hello Lance," Bobbi says sliding in beside Hunter.
"Bloody..." Hunter is clearly surprised now.
"Hunter, wait," Bobbi says stilling Hunter. "I just want to talk."
"Oh, now you want to talk?" Hunter banters, regaining his composure quickly. "Sorry Love. The time for talking is long past."
"Fine. No talking. You're here for Jack Walthar. We have him. So why don't you ask Coulson to come out of hiding?"
"Who's Jack Walthar?" Hunter asks.
Bobbi signals the woman behind the counter and two agents appear with the boy between them. They sit the boy down two tables away. The boy looks warily around him. The waitress goes to take their order but one of the agents waves her away.
Bobbi smiles at Hunter. "That's Jack Walthar," Bobbi purrs. "We've tested him. He is a super but he isn't a threat. He has accelerated healing powers against cuts and bruises but not diseases – which is great for him but isn't really of any use to anyone else."
"He isn't any use to you, you mean," Hunter says. "So why not just let him go with me? I'll take him to Coulson. You said he's not a threat."
"No, but children exposed to terrigenesis have a history of being unstable. We'll need to keep him under observation to make sure he's safe. So how about it?" Bobbi asks, her voice steely. "You've got Coulson in your ear. Tell him he can come and talk to the boy."
"You've got to be joking," Hunter said. "We were investigating the boy, sure, but Coulson isn't going to..." He trailed off as Coulson walked in the door of the coffee shop. Mac and the two other agents get to their feet.
"I'm here," Coulson says palms open and arms outstretched – but he's looking at the boy, not Bobbi or Mac. Two other agents cut off his retreat. "I'm just going to put down my gun... And then we can talk." He slowly unclasps his holster and takes the gun out with his forefinger and thumb.
"This is what I mean, Lance," Bobbi tells Hunter quietly. "Coulson keeps secrets. You don't know how important the boy is to him did you?"
"No," Hunter says. "But I trust him to tell me what I need to know," Hunter says sliding under the table just as Coulson tosses the gun down. Made to look like a 9mm pistol it is actually a Howling Commando's incendiary device that emits a blinding white light and fills the air with a high humming sound that vibrates eardrums for up to two minutes. Enough time for Hunter and Coulson to leave the coffee shop with Jack Walthar while Bobbi and her team are left temporarily blind and deaf.
In an alley around the corner are two bikes. May roars up on a third.
"We don't have much time," she says. "They're regrouping fast."
"Go," Coulson nods to her and May rides off.
Hunter straddles one of the other bikes and roars off in the opposite direction.
But Jack Walthar stops and shakes off Coulson's hand on his arm.
"If you're feeling disoriented..." Coulson begins but stops when he realises the boy is fine.
"Am I your prisoner now?" Jack asks, his eyes resentful and untrusting.
"No," Coulson said. "You're free to go. But you promised to talk to me the next time we met and that's all I'm asking for. A talk. Just not here." He holds out a helmet and jacket to the boy.
As Jack considers his options Coulson pushes on, strapping on his own helmet. "I knew your mother, Jack. She was a Shield Agent. A good one. And a friend. I can tell you all about it but here isn't the place. Any minute now the people from that coffee shop are going to..."
Jack makes up his mind. He puts on the jacket and helmet and climbs on behind Coulson. They ride off.
"May and Hunter are going to lead the others away from us," Coulson calls out as they speed over a narrow road between what look like large sheds or warehouses.
"Who are the others?" Jack asks.
"Hard to explain right now," Coulson says. "Misguided is the short explanation."
He guides the bike down to a small rivulet and pushes it out of sight behind some rotting planks of wood, throwing their helmets into some convenient bushes.
"May should be here to pick us up soon," Coulson said.
Back on the Bus Fitz and Simmons are in communication with May and Hunter. Hunter is in a speedboat with May. May steers. She does not look happy.
"What did Bobbi mean – you didn't know how important the boy was to Coulson?" Simmons asked.
"Yeah, how is he important?" Fitz asked.
"No idea," Hunter said curtly over the sound of the engine's roar. "When he wants us to know, I guess he'll tell us."
"We maintain radio silence until we've got Coulson and the boy on board," May snapped.
"Oh yeah, sorry," Fitz said.
"Sorry," Simmons said – whispering "Oops" to Fitz.
"It's a silly precaution," Fitz whispers back indicating the panel of instruments in front of him. "I'd know at once if anyone was eavesdropping."
Coulson and Jack lean against the railing of a rickety old pier.
"So you've got the power to heal?" Coulson says. He sits in a relaxed open posture as opposed to Jack whose arms are crossed and fists clenched. He doesn't answer Coulson.
"Your mother was my friend, Jack," Coulson says. "I knew her as Rita Skein. I am guessing that isn't the name you knew her by?"
Jack shook his head slowly, but his shoulders relax a little.
"But she told you that was her real name?" Coulson guessed. Jack nodded. Coulson hands Jack an envelope. "This was from your mother's file," he says.
Jack is startled. He opens it with shaking hands. Inside is a picture of a young woman. He stares at the picture for a long time while Coulson talks.
"Rita was on assignment with two other agents who were exposed to a terrigen bomb – like the one you were exposed to," Coulson said. "One of them died – he was human. The other wasn't but he couldn't immediately adjust to the change. He became mentally unstable and tried to kill your mother. He had super-human strength..."
"He was my father." The boy said wearily.
"Yes, he was," Coulson said. "At the time you were five and at home. Your parents had kept you a secret from the agency because they wanted to keep working together in the field and that wouldn't have been allowed. Your father was a good man, Jack. The terrigenesis changed him."
The boy kept silent.
"Your mother managed to get away and take you into hiding. By the time he got control of his powers you and your mother had disappeared. But he never stopped searching did he?"
"No," Jack said gazing unseeingly across the waterscape in front of him.
"Two years ago your mother reached out to me. She told me she was dying. She made me promise to keep you safe. By then we had been able to piece together what had happened. We had tried to find your father but we were unsuccessful. He rarely breaks cover so we think he must have mastered his power."
Coulson stopped. "Are we right to assume that?" he asked quietly.
"His power, yes," Jack said tersely.
"But six months later Rita stopped contacting me. I had no way of knowing where you were. I only had a picture of you and a name."
"Her cancer was aggressive," Jack said, staring down at the photograph in his hands. "She got very sick very fast. She told me all this. Until then I had no idea that she was a secret agent. But she wanted me to know the truth. She told me to keep moving. To keep a low profile and use different names."
Jack looked up at last his eyes wet.
"But it's not easy..." He stopped, his voice breaking. "My father found me almost immediately."
"He is a trained field agent, Jack." Coulson's voice was calm and soothing. "Finding people is his speciality."
"In the beginning he was so thrilled to have found me. And I remembered him from before the change. I thought maybe it wouldn't be so bad. But he couldn't control his anger."
"He hurt you?" Coulson asked.
"He didn't mean to. And he was angry at how easily I got hurt when he lost his temper. So he locked me up with food and water and disappeared for a few weeks. The food ran out. I was barely conscious when he turned up. He said everything was going to be all right."
"You were in Nam Tam then?" Coulson asked. "And he had the terrigen bomb."
"He said it would make me strong like him. I was too weak to understand what he was saying. And then suddenly I was all right."
"You didn't feel disoriented? Ill?" Coulson asked in some surprise.
Jack considered this and shook his head slowly. "I felt better than I'd ever felt before. He told me that was because I was super human now.
"He pushed me in front of the iron door and asked me to hit it as hard as I could. I was too scared of getting hurt. I hit it lightly and he got mad. He rammed the door with his fist and it bent and buckled. He asked me to hit it in the same way. I was terrified of him. So I punched it with all my might.
"And I broke my wrist – I could feel the bones breaking. My hand was all bloody. And my father went crazy. He started punching and kicking me. He kept yelling at me to hit him back but I couldn't. I was in too much pain. I thought I was going to die..." Jack trailed off.
"But you didn't," Coulson prompted gently. "How did you escape?"
Jack shook his head. "I don't know whether I dreamt it. I wasn't fully conscious," he said. "We were in a locked room but suddenly there was a man there. He just appeared."
"A man with no eyes?" Coulson asked, leaning forward with interest.
The boy's eyes widened. "So he is real?"
Coulson shrugged. "He appears to be. We've encountered him a few times but we don't know who he is or where he goes to."
"He bent over me and he shook his head like he was sorry," Jack went on. "My father was yelling at him. But every time he tried to hit the man, the man disappeared and appeared somewhere else – just out of reach."
Coulson was nodding now.
"Then he grabbed my father and they both disappeared. They left me for dead but I didn't die. I got better. In a matter of minutes I think. There was space to wriggle out through the broken door so I got out."
"Why did you stay on?" Coulson asked.
"I don't know," Jack said ruefully. "Part of me wanted to run away as far as I could but I didn't speak the language. I didn't know anyone except my father's friend who was a barber. I was friends with his son. I told my friend what happened to me. He promised to keep my secret and I hid in their barn.
"Then, one day, my friend told me some men in suits – Americans – had come to the village. They were asking about my father and me. They had promised a lot of money for us. I had to lay low. I didn't know it then but they were the people you saw at the coffee shop.
"The next week some bad men from the village came and beat up my friend's father. They killed him because of me. And my friend told them where I was hiding. I ran. They were chasing me when I met you.
"I'm sorry about your friend," Coulson said.
"It was my fault he lost his father," Jack said with an edge of despair in his voice. "A man died because of me."
"That wasn't your fault..." Coulson said gently but Jack kept going.
"My mother said I should look out for a man called Phil Coulson. But she didn't have a picture of you and the men who were after me were Americans in suits – like you. I didn't know if I could trust you."
Jack broke off as the hum of an engine could be heard over the water.
"Is that your friend?" he asked Coulson.
"Stay out of sight for a minute," Coulson said. "May? Do you read?"
There was only silence.
"Stay hidden," Phil said over his shoulder, his eyes on the boat. "This doesn't look good..."
A burst of gunfire from behind takes him by surprise. He dives for cover, firing back.
"That way," Coulson steers Jack through an alley. They duck into an open doorway and run through a warehouse chased by Gonzales' 'Real' Shield agents.
"The sewers," Jack points at a manhole cover. He grabs a wooden broomstick and prices the lid up while Coulson fires back.
"Come on," Jack calls out urgently.
They climb into the manhole and put the lid back just in time. 'Real' Shield agents run swiftly past the manhole. Beneath their feet Coulson is slumped against a grimy wall, his hand pressing against his chest.
"Are you hurt?" Jack whispers.
A burst of gunfire can be heard from above. At the same time Simmons voice can be heard in Coulson's ear.
"They were jamming our transmission. Sir, are you all right? Are you there? Can you hear me?"
Coulson brings his hand out. It is covered in blood. He stifles a laugh.
"I have an eerie sense of de ja vu," he says.
"Oh thank God you're all right," Simmons says. "May and Hunter are securing the area. As far as we can tell this is just a small mobile group of 'Real' Shield. Just give them a few minutes. Sir, do you hear me?"
"Loud and clear," Coulson says but his voice is faint. "Listen Jack," he continues painfully but with great urgency. "May and Hunter are good agents. They will keep you safe. You can trust them."
Jack's face looks pale in the darkness.
Above ground May and Hunter take down the 'Real' Shield agents with the greatest efficiency. When they are sure the area is secured May contacts Fitz and Simmons.
"Where is Coulson?" she asks.
"They appear to be under ground to your left... I mean right." Fritz says.
"Here!" Hunter spots the manhole. He lifts the cover and they look down on Coulson and Jack. Both are covered in blood.
"Coulson!" May leaps down. Hunter stays at the mouth of the hole on guard.
"I'm fine May," Coulson says. He is pushing his hand against the boy's chest. Blood keeps seeping through his fingers.
"You're hurt!" There is panic in May's voice at the site of his bloody shirt with the gaping hole.
"I'm fine," Coulson sounds dazed. He pulls open the hole in his shirt to reveal smooth skin underneath.
The boy is gasping for breath. But each gasp is shallower than the last and each time his chest heaves less blood oozes from between Coulson's fingers.
"Sir? May? Reinforcements are arriving. You've got to get out of there." Simmons tries to keep her voice even.
"Follow the sewer line. I can guide you to the river where the boat is," Fitz said.
"Let's go. I'll carry the boy," May said.
Hunter shut the manhole lid and helped Coulson to his feet. "Are you all right boss?" He asked.
Coulson nodded but it is clear he is still weak. Hunter supports him and they hurry after May.
"Left. I mean right. Right again," Fitz gives them directions.
"Be very quiet now." Simmons can see a team of agents above them.
Finally they get to an iron grating that is half submerged in the water. Hunter props Coulson against a wall and detonates the gate.
"We're going to have to swim for it," May says looking across at Coulson.
"I can do it," he says straightening up.
"Me too," the boy says. May sets him down. He smiles at her. But she doesn't smile back.
They swim to the boat. May opens the throttle and the boat swings away from the bank.
Back on the Bus Coulson and Jack are being checked out by Simmons. The team stands around them.
"So you don't just regenerate?" Simmons asked. "You can heal others?"
"Do Bobbi and the others know that?" Hunter asked.
"No, I didn't tell them," Jack said.
"If you had they wouldn't have been so ready to use you as a pawn," Hunter said.
"They said all the people with super powers are weapons," Jack said. "Is that true?"
"They have the potential to be used as weapons," Coulson said. "But you – and if there are others like you – would be equally important in a war."
"I'd be the on-site medic?" Jack asked.
Coulson grinned. "Yes, you'd be pretty important."
"How did you figure out that you could heal others?" Simmons asked.
"Some bad men killed my friend's father and they almost killed him too," Jack said. "I didn't want him to die. I wished as hard as I could that it was me who was hurt and not him. And then I got his wounds. And he was fine. And then I healed too."
"So you didn't lose a friend then," Coulson smiled at him.
"I did," the boy said soberly. "He called me a freak and said he would kill me if he ever saw me again. I guess he's right. I am a freak."
"No you're not, Jack," Coulson said. "You're special. We had a team member who changed like you. I made the mistake of treating her with mistrust - dangerous until proven otherwise. I won't make the same mistake with you."
"Phil," May said in a dangerous voice.
"Agent Simmons here will test you and you will be under observation. But you'll be here with us until you're cleared." Coulson looked at May. She turned and strode off.
"I'll talk to her," Simmons said, getting up to follow May out.
"It's all right," Coulson said. "I'll go."
"You've lost a lot of blood, Sir," Simmons said, "Even though your wounds have healed. You're still weak..."
"I'll be careful," Coulson smiled.
Coulson slid into the co-pilot's seat. May didn't look at him. They sat in silence until May couldn't stand it anymore.
"Are you just going to sit there?" she asks irritably.
"Doctor's orders," Phil says lightly looking out across an expanse of blue sky and pinky-orange clouds. "I need plenty of R&R and you really can't beat this view."
May rolls her eyes.
"May, I know you have your reservations," Phil said. "And you have every right to. But, this is Rita Stein's son we're talking about," Phil said. May froze.
"Yeah, I know it is a lot to take in," Coulson said. "His father is..."
"Hank Rayon." May whispered.
"You knew?" Coulson asked.
"Rita and I were friends," May said. "She told me she was going out with Hank. She never said they had a son."
"So I'm not the only one who keeps secrets," Coulson said and there was a smile on his lips.
May gave him an icy look. "What happens if he loses his mind? Like his father. Like..." She can't bring herself to say the name.
"Like Katya?" Coulson asks. "If he goes rogue, I'll put him down myself."
"Are you sure you can do that? I know how much Rita meant to you."
"It was a long time ago," Phil smiles ruefully. "And she chose Hank."
"Only because your work involved so much travel," May said.
"She told you that?" Coulson asked.
"She loved you. But she wanted to settle down." May said. "And she couldn't wait forever."
They're silent as the Bus soars on to its next destination.