Tony decides that Phil—and apparently that first name is a curse because ever since he said it the first time he can't seem to stop—looks weird without a suit. He's never seen the agent in anything but and somehow he seems less whole without one. Then again, he's also never seen him lying half-dead in a hospital bed before either, so that's something. Still, there's something almost… disturbing about the whole thing. The bulk of bandages and gauze encasing the agent's left side are easily visible beneath his thin hospital gown. Typically sharp eyes are dull under a cloud of heavy medication and when he speaks his voice emerges as a thin rasp from beneath his oxygen mask.

"Who else knows?"

Tony leans forward in his seat. "Just me. No thanks to Fury."

Phil takes several slow, measured breaths.

"You hacked in."

Tony shrugs. "Well, I figured you hacked into my security system, I hack into yours… Like a mi casa es su casa thing. Except… well, no my house isn't yours. Yours is mine, though."

"I have a two year old niece who talks like that," Phil says, his lips curling up at the corners.

"If she's smart, she'll hold on to that mindset," Tony answers.

He flips through the chart in his lap, humming thoughtfully. Phil makes no comment, apparently content to let Tony do the talking when he feels like it.

"Comatose for three weeks, huh? Yikes," Tony says with a cluck of his tongue. "Prognosis is pretty good considering you had a run-in with the business end of an alien weapon of unclear origin."

Tony flips a few pages back and forth before tossing the chart onto the nearby table.

"So here's how this is gonna work. When I'm done here—and by my calculations, I've got another fifteen minutes before they figure out I'm here so you might want to suggest they tighten the security on this place—I'll be scooting on over to my Tower to assemble the Avengers. See, we've been playing house since the Loki incident. Banner decided the 'in the wind' thing wasn't really his style anymore and Captain Spangles delayed his road trip until we could be sure there wouldn't be any lingering threat from Loki's goon squad," Tony explains. "Anyway, I'm going to round up the troops and let them in on Fury's little secret. That's you, by the way. Then we're going to pay Fury a visit and if he's lucky, he won't find himself in the bed next to yours when we're through with him. Then I'm bringing them here."

Phil casts his bleary gaze on Tony and squints as though he's trying to decipher what the genius has just said.

"That's not… Fury's… It's not like that," he says, blinking rapidly. And boy they must have him on something strong if he's having trouble even stringing a sentence together. "It's not what it looks like."

"Really? Because it looks like he told us you died, you didn't die, and he's been hiding you here for the past month," Tony says. He leans closer to Phil. "He lied to us."

"You needed the push," Phil argues.

"That doesn't mean it had to be you."

Silence descends on them as the words hang heavy in the air, too late to take back, too late to change. Phil looks at Tony like he's never quite seen him before, his brow knit in apparent confusion. And then, inexplicably, his expression lightens.

"I didn't know you cared, Mr. Stark," he says.

Thank God for Phil's timely snark, because Tony's not sure he could have handled the conversation he'd just lined himself up for. But Phil's giving him the opening, the go-ahead to switch gears. The casual banter, that's something he can do. That's something he's comfortable with. But he's not going to take the agent's detour. Not exactly.

"Don't flatter yourself Coulson, you didn't hurt me. But I spent hours holding Pepper in my arms while she cried her eyes out for you," he says.

It's a cheap shot. But he needs Phil to understand the damage his supposed death had done. Because right now, he's fairly certain that Phil doesn't understand that. Mentioning Pepper, though, he knows gets his point across. He sees it in the way the agent's head falls back against his pillow, the way he closes his eyes, the way his frown deepens as though he's in pain. Maybe he is in pain. He sees Phil's right hand fisted in the sheet covering him, his left laying limp by his side, and wonders if maybe he should do something.

"Should I… call a nurse or something?" he asks.

He's half out of his seat when he gets an answer in the form of a fierce "No" from the man before him. He raises his hands defensively as he resumes his seat.

"No," Phil repeats, softer this time. "You'll blow your cover."

"Yeah," Tony agrees, scratching the back of his neck.

"I didn't think…" Phil starts. His sentence drops off there and he tries again. "No one was supposed to be hurt."

"Listen, I don't care if you've got one foot in the grave, I will gladly hand your ass to you if you try to feed me that 'acceptable loss' bullshit," Tony says, his tone sharp. "So shut up."

"Stark. Someone had to."

"You should have waited for back-up."

"There was no time."

"We could have made time."

The thought might be a bit uncharitable, but he's glad that Phil doesn't have the energy to argue with him. It's not an argument the agent should win. And yeah, maybe he's a little angry at Phil for dying. For his death being the cause of all the times he's caught Pepper with her eyes puffy and red, putting on a straight face because there's no time to cry with a company to run and a Tower to rebuild. For his death being the cause of nearly all the times Tony's had to hold her close when putting up a brave front isn't an option anymore. Maybe he's just angry that someone made Pepper cry and he couldn't do a damn thing to fix it. Until now, anyway.

"Is she alright?"

Tony looks up to find Phil regarding him very seriously. Or trying to, anyway. Based on the way his eyelids droop, Tony's guessing whatever painkillers they've got him on are really doing a number on him.

"Oh, you know Pep. She's the queen of keeping it together," Tony says lightly. He looks down at his hands in his lap and says nothing for what feels like a long time. "No. She isn't."

"I'm sorry."

For a moment, Tony's struck by the sincerity of the words. If you can get a senior agent of S.H.I.E.L.D. to sound like he's two seconds away from springing the waterworks, there's got to be something wrong with that. The pettier side of him can't help but feel a little smug at the idea that Phil's experiencing a fraction of the pain he's had to suffer through. And a part of him feels glad. Because Phil knowing that he's made Pepper cry should hurt and it very clearly does.

"You can tell her yourself when I bring everyone in for a visit," Tony says, rising from his seat. "Looks like my fifteen are up."

Just in time, too. From the looks of it, the agent is losing the battle to remain conscious. Better that he rests now so he can be awake for his visitors.

"She'll be pissed at you, you know," Tony says, pushing his chair back to its original spot by the wall.

Phil makes a point of meeting his gaze. "I can live with that," he answers softly.

Tony claps the agent on his uninjured shoulder. "Yeah, you can."

Even as he turns to leave, he finds himself pausing at the door. He fidgets indecisively before leaning against the doorframe and facing back towards the room. He can't quite bring himself to look at Phil when he speaks.

"I just wanted to say… you know it's…" he begins. He stops and frowns, scratching at the back of his neck before he tries again. "It's good. That you're not dead. I think that's… good."

Phil doesn't say anything to that. When Tony drags his gaze up, he sees that the agent is fast asleep and his words have gone unheard. He rolls his eyes and throws his hands in the air as he exits the room.

"A guy tries to say something nice and what does he get? Nothing," he grumbles to himself as he walks briskly down the hall. He pulls his StarkPhone out, holding it up as he carefully avoids a group of armed security guards. "JARVIS, tell everyone to get ready. I've got a surprise for them."