Phillip Coulson has lived, and died, only to continue on relatively undisturbed. His genetic duplicate meanwhile is starting from the very beginning. Or, Phillip Coulson has been cloned up to approximately sixty times, and now 'they' are facing the consequences.

CHAPTER ONE

Once there was a man who took a spear to the the chest and —

Yeah.

There's no good way to end that story, is there?

.

PC2-009# is the oldest by zero-point-twenty-seven seconds. According to Matron, they were shooting in the dark with him. They didn't quite know what to expect.

So PC2-009# is zero-point-twenty-seven seconds old and he's already wrong — broken, but they tell him not to worry too much. They'll let him live.

He's the special one, see. He's the first. The first one out of... well, he can't remember (he's only zero-point-twenty-seven seconds old) but he's the first one to work properly. That's all he knows. He's the first.

Living Proof.

That is what they call him.

.

"Oh my god,"

The first time you meet Phillip Coulson, you are three years old.

"How many of you are there?"

.

This is how PC2-009# and his brothers came to be:

Phillip Coulson has been alive for four minutes and forty-three seconds when one of the doctors draws a second sample of blood. He can't notice; consciousness is a haze, a high pitched whine that goes well with the thudding of his heartbeat in his ears and the vague jolting sickness.

He flinches, but not when the needle goes into his skin.

.

40 weeks later, PC2-009# meets his younger brother PC2-010#, who is shortly followed after by PC2-011#, exactly zero-point-twenty-seven seconds after. This makes PC2-009# zero-point-eighty-one seconds old. Both PC2-010# and PC2-011# are bigger than PC2-009#. Matron, who comes in every day all day to look after then, supervise them, says this is to be expected. Plus, they are all different.

See, PC2-009# is a little bit smaller than all of them. Yet PC2-010# is thinner in overall comparison.

PC2-011# squints a little all the time.

Matron says not to worry.

They're all perfect, she says.

.

They all have nightmares, though. All three of them.

They remember things. Little things. Mostly when they dream.

There is a pain they share. A deep, visceral pain that makes them convulse and shake and it jerks them from slumber almost simultaneously.

As far as they are aware, nothing is wrong. Some things were wrong with PC2-009# from the beginning, but not like this.

.

Phillip Coulson, meanwhile, wakes up every night, over and over again too.

.

The difference between PC2-009# and his brothers is that PC2-009# learns how to hide it. He bites his hand to stop the screams, even when asleep.

They sedate his brothers.

They bandage PC2-009#.

.

"They were implementing his memories, weren't they?" She says to you. "Phillip?"

You do not recognize that name. You think it's a name, but it isn't PC2-009#.

"Phillip Coulson? Do you recognize that name? Blink twice if you do."

You stare, open-lidded.

"That's okay. Probably for the best. Are you in pain?"

You blink twice.

.

"I'm sorry, boss. The god rabbited."

"Just stay awake. Eyes on me."

"No, I'm clockin' out here."

"Not an option."

"It's okay, boss. This was never gonna work... if they didn't have something... to..."

It's the same nightmare, every time.

.

The weeks go by, a year and then two. Phillip Coulson builds a team only for it to be ripped apart, he watches S.H.I.E.L.D. burn to the ground before him, but he fights, and he lives. He survives.

PC2-009# meanwhile lives in his innocuous grey building, learning the little things, growing smarter and stronger gradually day by day. "He's happier with a nice new family," Matron says when PC2-009# asks when PC2-0010# is coming back. PC2-0010# was the smartest out of all of them, and he helps PC2-009# and PC2-011#, even though he's probably the weakest out of them all (he can't even do the baby stuff like running a mile and a half without getting out of breath, and he's mostly guessing when the People From Upstairs ask them about things from a time called Before). Matron had a lot of quiet talks with him about it, and PC2-010# always came back angry, and scared. It takes him a while until he stops shaking. PC2-009# sits with him until he does.

"I wouldn't think about him anymore, dear," Matron says. "He won't be coming back."

.

When PC2-011# leaves, too, you don't talk for a week and three days.

They start calling you Phil after that.

You don't really like your new name.

.

There is a tip off, back in the Playground. Movements and suspected dealings that has Director Mace calling in resources and newly found favours. In the end, they all know who to send in.

"Northeast Poland," the Director informs Coulson. "We're not sure what you'll find but I'm sure it's of interest to you."

Coulson sets his mouth into a thin, displeased line. "And Agent May?"

"All things in due time, Phillip." Mace gives him The Smile. "We're doing all we can, I promise. Right now it's imperative we find out what the situation is."

.

Here's the situation:

Phillip J. Coulson is the result of someone playing God.

Whatever you mean Phillip J. Coulson or Phillip J. Coulson is irrelevant. Neither of them asked to be.

.

"The other ones were defective," Dr. Streiten sighs. "New Phillip shows indications of possible damage to thought-to-speech patterning, though he retains language cognition. His heart is a little wonked — and you've seen him, he's smaller than the others, but he's practically identical."

"You killed off thirty-seven of them," The other man on the end of the line says, displeased. "Are you sure this is the one?"

"With all due respect, sir — if he isn't, there's more." Goodman replies. "We have a third generation on standby."

"And technically, these clones aren't completely Coulson," Another man says before Streiten can make him shut up. "I mean, they're identical clones." He splutters at the glare he's given. "But that's nature versus nurture for you. Phil Jr. is bigger than the original, but that's because we've fed him up like a baby piglet. He'll be better than the original, physically, once we sort out some of the minor issues regarding the development of his cardomuscular system. Mentally he's on par with Coulson when was around the same biological period, age wise. It's just a matter of, ah, training."

A sigh. "All this for one man."

"One good man, sir, begging your pardon."

.

You roll off of the platform and land awkwardly on all fours, sinking low as you brush your face and chest against the tiles below.

At first, you think this is normal — that today will be another day, of learning and therapy and medicine and improvement, but you soon realize that this will be nothing of the sort.

The room is dark and cold and the air feels stale and nothing seems right.

You struggle to get upwards and, having looked to the left, found a face. An unsure mixture between that of yourself and a stranger, with an aged demeanor. You recognize his features; his eyes and lips, the shape of his jaw, the curve of his nose. You recognize them, because you have seen your own reflection in the glass of your chamber, and your brothers looked exactly the same, too. Well. Somewhat. Lev squinted more than this man does, and Tenner's shoulders were a little bit thinner in comparison to his height. But they are yours. These features, they are the same ones you all shared. The figure leaning against the table, breathing hard with a face pulled into an expression of no filtered shock and fear and something that registers to you as anger, looks like you. He looks like Lev. He looks like Tenner. He looks like you.

Only, you are Phillip Coulson.

So why is Phillip Coulson looking back at you?

.

The Other-You asks: "Oh my God. How many of you are there?"

Fifty-eight.

Thirty-seven old corpses in stasis, twenty new embryos in cryo. And You.

Just you.