Annabeth's POV:

I feel the darkness crawl in. Sweeping a loose strand of hair behind my ear, I feel my forehead, sweaty and warm. My breathing is erratic, and as much as I try to hide it, I can't help or contain my deep gasps for air. I feel like I'm slowly suffocating, trapped with nowhere to go.

In a futile attempt to try and contain my fear, I fumble around for a wall, a table, anything to let me get my bearings. Stepping forward, my fingertips brush against a cold metal wall. I clutch it, and slowly, begin to feel my way along it. My nerves spike as I feel the corner ahead of me. As quietly as I can muster, almost holding my breath, I begin to edge around the wall. I can feel my sweat, trickling down my back.

I let out a sigh as I reach the other side. It's this moment that a giant sweaty hand reaches out and clamps over my mouth. I act instinctively. Biting the hand that covers my mouth, whoever it is grunts in pain and clutches their hand. I take this opportunity to sprint down the corridor.

A few paces away and I hit a wall, my ribcage smacking into a box sticking out of the wall. I turn to it, and in the dim light provided by a window nearby; see that it's a circuit box. I claw at the lock for a few blonde moments before thinking of the lock pick my dad gave me. I reach in my back pocket and retrieve the small pick. It's silver, no bigger than a nail clipper and has a Swiss army knife on the other end.

I flip up the pick, and start working on the lock. Behind me I can hear the man whose hand I bit begin to come after me. His footsteps are heavy and slow, and each thud makes my heart jump just a little. As I fumble with the lock it rattles and bangs against the box, no matter how much I wish it would be silent.

The footsteps draw closer, and my fumbling with the lock grows even more frantic. I almost praise the lord when I finally hear the quiet click. I let the small lock drop to the floor, resulting in a loud bang and pull open the cover to the circuit box. Trying to focus on the wires in the weak light, I realize that I know very little about circuits and electricity. Physics has never really been my thing.

Taking a wild guess as the man is practically standing behind me, I pull on a random set of wires. As I hear a buzzing of electricity, I feel his warm breath on my back. "I'm going to enjoy killing you." He breaths out like a snake. Trying to keep back a whine, I pull out another set of wires. Rather unsurprisingly, the lights do not flicker back on.

Reaching for a third set of wires; I feel the cold blade pressed up against my throat. "Now, you'll do what I say. You won't scream, you won't cry and you won't attempt to get any help. Alright?" he says slowly, making sure I get the message. I nod briskly. He presses the blade tighter, almost cutting my throat. "Yes." I say, my voice like a whisper.

It all happens suddenly. A door bangs open to reveal a man with a gun who is masked in shadow. He shots the man holding me in the arm, knocking him over. The knife is thrown to the floor with a bang. The electricity comes back on and I feel my body go rigid. Having been electrocuted, I fall to the floor, hitting my head. I see the man who saved me. It's my dad, and he has a gun still pointed at the man who had me hostage. The last thing I recollect is another gunshot before darkness clouds my vision.

xxx

Agent Coulson POV:

I loaded my gun with a full case of bullets. Cold air whipped against my face, but it can hardly penetrate the angry crease lines that mask my face. I know my mission. Fury wants this guy dead, and I am only too happy to oblige. For this maniac there is not going to be a second chance. I am about ready to throw myself out of the helicopter, and I don't wait for the thumbs up as we near touch down, I simply jump out.

The impact of my army boots hitting the asphalt reverberates through the soles of my feet, and I run towards the door leading down into the building. Kicking at the lock, I force my way in, practically jumping down the stairs. At each door I look through I can see that the building has had a power cut, probably thanks to the maniac who had decided to invade.

I travel in a matter of mere moments down three flights of stairs until I stop at a door that I can hear shuffling behind. Unlike the previous doors this one doesn't have a window behind it. Not waiting for my team who are currently investigating the floor above me, I feel the handle. Building up my energy reserves, I feel courage and adrenaline coursing through my veins. I take a deep cool breath, allowing my nerves to steady themselves for a few moments.

A second passes, and I feel any fear I have bottled up inside me ebb away. This is the way I always prepare myself before I enter a hostile zone. I exhale, the air feeling sticky and too warm. Just before I barge in, I feel the air go still and silence echo from the other side of the door.

I don't wait any longer. The door hits the wall on the other side with a bang that echoes down the corridor. The scene before me shocks me. There stands my daughter, eyes wide with fear and sweat dripping down her face. I take a moment to blink and clear my senses. This allows me to see the bigger picture. Only then do I see the smiling man standing behind her. Only then do I see the sheer craziness reflecting in his eyes. Only the do I see the knife held tightly against her throat. My eyes flick over the scene in what seems like slow motion, but in reality it is a brief second.

My emotions overflow within a moment, and I fire my gun at him, aiming for his head to kill him, but missing with the blurred vision of hate. He falls, it seems slowly as the bullet hits his arm. As his body hits the floor with a thud, and the knife threatening my daughters life falls with him, god reappears. The lights above me flash on, and as I look back at my daughter, I see her body go rigid with pain.

I step towards her, but I'm too slow. I try to catch her falling body, but I'm too slow. I try to stop her pain, but I'm too slow. She hits the floor before me. I want to scream in agony. She lays in convulsions on the floor. I see her eyes flick to mine for the briefest moment. I see the pain in them, before the close.

Aiming my gun for a second time at the maniac who caused this giant catastrophe, knowing that I will not miss this time, my eyes settle for a final time on the broad smile plastered across his face. I watch his smile fade with the bullet I put in his skull.

xxx

The beeping of her monitor is the only thing keeping me sane. I sit in an uncomfortable chair next to her motionless body in the hospital wing at the S.H.E.I.L.D. base. Resting my head in my hands, I spend the night wondering how my daughter came into harms way when I was supposed to be protecting her, and waiting for the next beep of her heart.

I'm so locked into my pensive state that I don't hear the footsteps that approach the room. He just starts speaking. Nick Fury never knocks. "It's not your fault, you know." He says. I look up at him. "How? If I hadn't been on that mission, if I hadn't been so keen on completing it, if I had protected her a little more…" I say before Fury cuts me off. "You mean if you hadn't been doing your job? If you hadn't of gone on that mission, that maniac would still be on the loose and your daughter missing. This. Is not. Your. Fault." He says strongly.

I feel anger rise through me. "It's my fault that she's in a coma right now! It's my fault that she was even there in the first place! What if she never wakes up? She'll never know the reason why she had to go through that pain! She'll never know it was my fault and not hers." I say dramatically. Tears threaten to slip down my face, but I take a gulp of air and subdue them.

Fury sighs; sensing that he will never be able to convince me, not in my emotional state, he settles for second best. "You needn't fear her death. If she's anything like you, she'll pull through." He says, before exiting the room. I turn to face her emotionless face. For a moment I wonder how much like me she really is. The last time we saw each other was over a year ago. I don't tend to spend much time at home because of work. She's not even allowed to know what I do.

Looking at her now, I see the beautiful girl she has become. She must be sixteen or seventeen already. Long brown locks of hair are swept back into a ponytail, with a few fragments straying across her face. She is thin but has a strong build, with a naturally pale complex like me.

I feel a stray tear slide down my face. Pushing my face back in my hands, I don't sob, but I do let the tears flow freely. The guilt washes over me and I feel relieved to finally be able to let it out. Being a S.H.E.I.L.D. agent means that I have to keep a lot of my emotions bottled up inside me until sometimes it feels like I am going to explode.

I stay like this for a while. I let my emotions out until I hear sheets rustling next to me, and a faint voice say "Dad?". I want to pray to god to thank him for his miracle in helping my daughter to wake up. I turn, wiping the tears from my face to look at my beautiful, but confused daughter. "Annabeth?" I say, pushing myself from my chair towards her.

I reach out to embrace her in a hug. She, rather bemused, accepts. I first feel it when my arms wrap around her body, and hers around mine. The shock buzzes through me, and instantly my daughter knows something's wrong. My body goes stiff and she lets go. I feel myself fall to the floor, convulsing with the electricity that is still running through me.

Annabeth screams for help, and a few moments later I hear a nurse rush in. "I don't know what happened, we just hugged and…" I hear the fear in her voice as she tries to explain what happened. After a few moments I feel my body begin to loosen and unlock itself. The spasms stop and I relax.

The nurse cowers over me, trying to figure out what happened. "Agent Coulson, are you alright?" she says worriedly. I nod, finding my throat dry and lips unwilling to move. The nurse backs away as I pull myself up. I turn to my daughter with a mixed look of shock and confusion. "Dad, I am so sorry, I don't know what happened!" she says quickly.

I sit back down in my chair and take a few deep breaths, nodding for the nurse to leave. She gives me look of concern but slowly exits to go and attend to another patient.

"Dad, are you-" she says.

"I'm fine," I attempt to wipe her concern away, "I'm more worried about you anyway. How are you feeling?"

"Dad are you sure you shouldn't-"

"I'm fine, honestly. I've been through worse than that. How are you?"

"I feel a little light headed, but I'm fine, I swear!"

I give her look that lets her know that I know she's lying. All S.H.E.I.L.D. agents have been trained in the art of lie detection.

"Fine, I just feel a little tingly in my arms and legs. Like when you've slept in a funny position and you need to get the feeling back."

I sigh. She certainly seems all right. "You should get some sleep. You're probably exhausted after all you've been through." I say to her, shifting in my chair so I'm prepared to dose off as well.

"Um, dad, I was actually wondering if I could ask you a few questions." She ventures timidly. I freeze in my attempt to get comfortable. Somehow I've always known that this day would come. "What about?" I almost sigh as I ask. There's no point in holding off. It will be a relief to get it off my chest. Have no more secrets to hide. "What were you doing with that gun in the building?" she asks confidently, knowing that I'll tell her anything.

Fury will kill me for knowing I'm telling her. We practically sign an oath forbidding us from this. "I think it's time you learnt what I do for a living. I work at this organization called S.H.E.I.L.D. as a special agent." I say.

"That's why that nurse! She called you Agent Coulson!" she points at me, eyes wide with excitement at her discovery.

I chuckle slightly. "Yes. Basically I get sent on missions, mostly missions for the Director himself, Nick Fury. You see, I'm sort of second in command at S.H.E.I.L.D. . Sometimes though, I get sent out on field missions that are much more dangerous, like the one I was on today." I say, waiting for her reaction.

"Was that why you were in that building? Were you sent to save me?" she says confused.

"Um, no. Until I got there, I didn't even know you were there. I was just sent to take care of that man who held you hostage." I say lightly.

"Dad, you mean kill don't you? Please don't try and sugarcoat this for me. I'm nearly seventeen, I can take it." She says maturely. I almost blush at how she saw through my slight deception. She's almost as good at seeing through lies as I am.

"Will you go to sleep now?" I say, feeling exhausting creep over me.

"One more question, please?" she begs.

I sigh, but motion with my hands for her to continue.

"Why was I taken hostage?" she says seriously.

I rub my eyes with my hands, trying to think of a good answer. After a moments pause to think it over, I say "I don't know. That man was crazy, but it's ok, because he's gone now." I say.

Annabeth sighs, unhappy with her answer, but limited to that one question. She lies down on her side in the hospital bed. "Good night." She mutters. I stand up to turn the lights off before settling back in my chair. "Night." I whisper before allowing myself to fall into a restless sleep.

xxx

A/N: So Coulson is a little older and more badass in this fanfic than in the films, but that's the power of fanfiction. Leave reviews telling me what you think so far! Questions are welcome and so is constructive critcism!