Finally the next part of the Routinely Rejecting Happiness series is here. I will be posting a non-censored version of this on my Ao3 account, so you'll have to go there if you want the smutty version of this story. For now though, I hope you enjoy! Reviews are loved. I don't own Marvel.
"I got reassigned."
Peter looked up from the article he was reading. It was another article of a childhood 'friend' spilling all they knew about Peter Parker, the real Spider-man. Like the others before it, the facts were so far from the truth it was laughable.
"Dude, Clint, they're saying I was a bully in elementary school," Peter said, finally getting a good look at the archer.
The man's expression made the mirth in his own gaze die away. Clint looked terrified and Peter could count on one hand how often that had happened. "What happened? Who did you get reassigned to?"
"I got assigned to Agent Philip Coulson."
"What?" Peter asked, dropping the article on the couch as he got to his feet.
"Clint." Both men froze when Natasha appeared at the entryway to the room. Her expression revealed nothing but Peter was pretty sure she was a heartbeat away from flying into a rage. "Who were you reassigned to?"
Clint turned away from Peter to face Natasha head on. "Nat. You know they always give us the same handler. I've got whoever you have."
"Oh. I'm going to go talk to Fury." She spun on her heel, vanishing the way she had come.
Clint turned back towards Peter, tossing the file in his hand to the floor. "Well she can yell at Fury all she wants. He's not telling us a damn thing until he's good and ready."
Peter grabbed the archer's arm, tugging him towards the couch and forcing him to sit down. Then he made his way to Tony's bar to find something to numb Clint's brain. By the time he returned, Clint was starting to transition from stunned to really angry.
"Drink this. If you need a punching bag, Steve is probably open for a spar," Peter said.
Clint downed the drink in one swallow. "You don't need to treat me like I'm going to break. I'm fine."
"Well that's the biggest bag of crap I've ever heard," Peter said flatly. "Is there anything I can do?"
Clint spread his arms. "Doubtful. Honestly, I want to punch Fury in the face."
"I could restrain him if that'd help," Peter said. "Think Nat would appreciate that?"
"Fucking hell Peter, this isn't a joke," Clint said, getting to his feet and tossing the glass across the room. "Coulson's apparently alive and Fury just let us...mourn and grieve and try and get over him."
Peter didn't get a chance to say anything because the elevator doors slid open and Steve walked in, eyebrows popping up when he saw the shattered glass across the floor.
"Fury's called a meeting. We'll be taking the quinjets," Steve said. "Natasha already took one after she uh, got off the video thing with him." He turned back towards the elevator. "We leave in five."
Peter approached the archer once Steve was out of sight. It was not overly surprising when Clint jerked away, striding towards the elevator without a word.
-.-
Peter had never met Coulson before. He was long dead before SHIELD started harassing him to join the Avengers initiative. From what Clint and Tony had told him though, the man was efficient, not taking anyone's crap or sparing anyone's emotions. He did what needed to be done and damn the consequences. Sure, Clint had mentioned the man's softer side, but the man standing beside Fury was like steel, gaze twitching over each of them for two seconds before staring straight ahead once more.
"Fury, you son of a bitch," Clint said.
The team sat around the usual table in their briefing room, but it looked as though Natasha and Clint were about to leap across the table and claw Fury's eye out. Tony was in full out pouting child mode, arms crossed over his chest and gaze pointedly aimed at a wall. Steve's expression was unreadable. Banner hadn't been allowed on the helicarrier.
"You can sign my resignation papers now," Natasha said.
Nobody moved as she got to her feet, heels clicking on the floor. She held out the papers to Coulson, standing directly in front of him as her gaze locked with his. "I've done a lot for SHIELD and for you, and this is how you repay me. Well, I'm done."
Phil's hands slowly rose, fingers wrapping around the papers.
"Do not. Do this. Agent Romanoff," Fury said. "If you leave, we will hunt you down."
"I wonder how many agents you'll lose before you stop trying. Clint may have sold his soul to you, but I never did." Finally, her gaze turned to Fury. "You know I won't tell anyone the secrets I know. You know I would have followed every order. But this is too far.
She began to leave the room, pausing beside Clint. Her lips touched his cheek, and then she was headed for the door, the harsh click of her heels on the tile echoing through the room making a muscle in Clint's jaw twitch. As her hand touched the door handle, Coulson finally spoke.
"Natasha. You should let us explain."
Clint ignored his own anger at the words and kept his gaze fixed on Natasha. He doubted anyone but Coulson could see what he did. The tensing of her right shoulder from the way her hand gripped the door handle a little bit tighter, the hesitation. Then she jerked the door open.
"You had months to explain. I'm done listening."
The door slammed shut, and for a tense moment, no one spoke. Peter's hand slid to squeeze his thigh reassuringly.
"So how many other secrets are you hiding, Fury? Answer honestly now, unless you want your systems hacked again," Tony said.
"Stark, I do not owe you anything," Fury started.
"You already lost one of us today. Are you willing to risk the rest?" Tony asked.
"Let him explain," Clint broke in. His eyes narrowed when he looked at Coulson. "But you better have a damned good excuse."
"We needed something to unite the team," Fury said. "It wasn't planned, but after what happened, we-"
"Dammit, Fury, I don't give a damn what you have to say! I want to hear it from Coulson," Clint shouted.
"Fury is right. You needed something to unite all of you," Coulson said. "I thought my death would be a good motivator, though for awhile, as I understood it, I almost did die."
"But why wait to tell us until now? What was the point?" Peter asked. When Clint's eyes flickered over to him, Peter kept his gaze fixed resolutely on the table.
"Why let all of them think that for so long?" Peter looked up, looking at both of the other men. "I don't know you, Agent Coulson. Honestly, if this didn't affect the people I care about so much, I'd probably just write you both off as annoying idiots with jerk-like tendencies. But you can't just play with people's emotions for that long. You don't just mess around with the grieving process. It's heartless, and psychopathic. Of course, those are words I already applied to SHIELD, but thanks for proving me right. Maybe you could make an argument for letting Tony and Steve think he was dead, but after? What possible reason could you have to keep up the lie?"
"I don't expect you to understand the complexities of the matter-" Fury began.
"Actually, Fury, I don't think he was asking you," Steve said. "Agent Coulson?"
"While I regret the way these events have unfolded, I did as I was ordered and stayed in SHIELD headquarters until I was entirely healed," Coulson said.
"Bullshit. You don't mess with people's heads because Director Dickbag told you to, especially not the people you care about," Clint said, glowering. "You know that Coulson. We talked about that."
"Orders are orders. And I agreed with his reasoning," Coulson said. "Because we didn't know if I would pull through until last week. In fact, I should probably be in bed, getting more rest."
"Agent Coulson was in a coma for two months, and when he came out of it, we were able to get his permission to preform a dangerous surgery on his heart. It had healed, but he would be incapable of returning to work. With the surgery, we would replace his heart with some experimental tech. It was successful. He'll be back to work by the end of the month but he almost died, and we did not want to give you false hope until we knew he would survive," Fury said.
"I am going to show an amazing amount of restraint and not say the first thing that comes to mind and request that we all leave and think this over," Tony said, getting to his feet. "Under the condition that Coulson is immediately moved to Stark Tower and put under our medical care."
"I second that," Clint said.
"Stark, you cannot make a man live with you," Fury said.
"I am not opposed to this request. In fact, I think, sir, I would prefer to live there during my recovery," Coulson said, stepping forward a bit. "I will be able to do my job better if the agent I am to be the handler of is nearby."
"If you're still my handler," Clint said lowly.
"Well, until you decide then," Coulson said.
"Fine, Agent Coulson may chose where he lives, as long as he continues to have a daily check up with our doctors." Fury looked over at Coulson, and then Tony. "Is this satisfactory?"
"Yes, sir," Coulson said.
"Fantastic. Steve will help you pack, so if you pass out, someone can carry you," Tony said.
"Thank you for the consideration," Coulson's tone was dry, and slightly annoyed.
"You're welcome, Agent."
-.-
Natasha yanked the door of her locker open, staring at the contents inside with a critical eye. After so many years working with SHIELD, she had allowed herself to attach a small amount of sentimental value to where she stored a few of her personal belongings. Absolutely stupid of her in hindsight.
She took down the one picture she had taped to the inside of the door, staring down at it for a moment. Clint had taken it during one of their bonding nights. Phil was tossing popcorn to his left where Natasha sat. It was an unflattering photo of her attempting to catch the popcorn in her mouth. She didn't remember Clint taking it, just remembered it materializing in her locker and not having the heart to take it down.
She tucked it into her pocket with more care than she wanted to think about. There were a few more things taped to the inside door of the locker. The psych evaluation she finally passed to be accepted into SHIELD, the first notice that Clint was her partner, and the first notice that Coulson was her handler. She shoved those in her pocket as well.
"Moving on out, huh?"
Natasha jerked around, catching Deadpool's jaw with her fist, but he knocked her back before holding his hands up in a pacifying gesture. "So, I shouldn't have taken you by surprise. My bad. But am I right?"
Natasha kicked the locker shut after pulling her bag of weapons out. "I suppose you are. Why are you here?"
"Curiosity. We're quite interested in what you plan to do next," Wade said.
"How did you even know?" She brushed past him, glancing at the cameras as she passed through the door.
"Well, I'm not a big fan of this Coulson guy. None of us are really," Wade said. He slung an arm around Natasha's shoulders, but when she pulled away, he let her go. "Your rejection hurts. Right here." He clutched as his heart before turning to face her, walking backwards.
"So why do you hate Coulson?" she asked. "Have you even met the guy?"
"Nope!" Wade shrugged. "But I take care of Birdy, and that guy has messed with him too much. He should've stayed dead."
"You know if you try and kill him, I'll have to stop you," Natasha said.
"Such loyalty to a man that constantly betrays you. And people call me crazy. Yes, true, but no one really asked you white box, now let me talk to the pretty lady. SHIELD security will be interrupting us soon," Wade said. Natasha didn't bat an eye as she continued to walk. "So, if you're unaffiliated now, care to join me on a job?"
"I'm not a mercenary, I'm an assassin. I will not sink to your level Wade," Natasha said. She darted around him to head up the stairs. "Besides, I don't have a plan yet, so I'm not going to agree to anything."
"You've always been like me, Miss Romanov. I may admire Birdy, but you...you're just like me. Tied to no nation, no person. You're a loner, not even the boxes to keep you company. If you change your mind, ask Birdy for my number."
Natasha whirled around, keen on giving the mercenary a piece of her mind, but he was already gone. A frustrated sight blew past her lips. What he said bothered her, but before she could dwell further, her phone beeped. She pulled it out of her pocket, staring down at the text it had received from Stark. That was new. Last time he text her, she had proceeded to steal his phone no matter how many times he replaced it, until he swore to never text her again.
You can stay at the tower until you figure out what you're going to do. And you won't even owe me anything.
Natasha ignored the smile that twisted at her lips.
-.-
"It's good to have you back, sir. Despite what we all said in there." Steve handed Coulson the spare helmet for his motorcycle before unclipping his own from the seat. They were in the parking garage for SHIELD operatives, the others already long gone, headed back to the tower.
The agent stared at him for a moment. "We won't be able to carry my things back on a motorcycle."
Steve glanced at him. "Tony said he'll send a car to your place when he gets back to the tower to come pick it all up." He got onto the motorcycle and patted the space behind him. "I promise I won't let you fall, sir."
"That was never my concern."
Steve couldn't help but smile at the warmth in the man's tone, and if he were to guess, relief. He didn't really need a helmet for himself, but he often wore one just to stop paparazzi from recognizing him. The ride over was silent, outside Coulson telling him his address, neither willing to shout over the wind and New York City traffic. It was weird having a man he had mourned for sitting behind him as they drove through the streets. Part of him was still angry with Director Fury, but his happiness that there was another familiar face was greater.
Coulson lived in a modest apartment, but it was older, and didn't have an elevator.
"What floor are you on?" Steve asked.
"Only the second, thankfully," Coulson said with a strained smile. "I apologize for the slow pace I'll be taking."
"Agent Coulson, you're alive. I frankly do not care if that means you have to walk a bit slower due to the dangerous surgery that's keeping you that way," Steve said.
Coulson's gaze flickered away, and then he began to head up the stairs. "Thank you Steve. You may call me Phil by the way. Unless we're at work of course."
"I can do that, thanks," Steve said with a small smile.
At the landing, halfway up the flight of stairs, Phil paused and leaned against the wall, hand rubbing absently over his heart. It made a lance of worry stab through him, and Steve moved to stand beside him. "Are you okay?"
"Yes," Phil said. "Just a bit of a strain."
"I could carry you," Steve said.
"Please, spare me the humiliation," Phil said with a small laugh. "I can make the last few steps."
"You don't have to push yourself just to impress me," Steve said. He grabbed Phil's arm and looped it over his shoulder when Phil began walking again. "I'll just help. You can still do most of the work."
"Thank you," Phil said.
Steve kept a firm grip on him until they reached Phil's door and stood back as the man unlocked and opened it. "Is this the first time you've been back here?"
"Yes," Phil said. He paused and then opened the door completely. "Welcome, and I suppose make yourself at home."
Steve walked past him and then held the door open for Phil to shuffle through. There was a small hallway that branched off, one way leading towards what Steve assumed was the bedroom and bathroom, the other to the living room and kitchen.
"So where shall we start?" Steve asked.
"The bedroom is where most of my belongings are. I do not keep much of anything," Phil said. "There should be some bags in the kitchen for us to put clothes in."
"Alright. You can head on to the bedroom if you want. I'll be there in a minute."
Steve was pretty surprised at how modestly Phil seemed to live, though he supposed it made sense for an agent of his caliber, and it was nice to know there was someone else like him. Someone who got paid a lot but didn't see the sense in needlessly spending it on things they didn't need. He found a few paper bags and carried them to the bedroom where Phil was sitting on the bed, hand over his heart once more.
"You're gonna make me worried if you keep pushing yourself too hard," Steve said.
"Thank you for the concern, but the doctors wouldn't have let me out if I was on the edge of death," Phil said. "But if you don't mind, I think I'll remain seated."
"Not a problem." Steve headed over to the closet, and opened it up to see four suits, seven shirts and six pairs of pants. "So I guess all of this can be packed away?"
"It can, yes. Tell me something though, if you can. Has Clint...has Clint moved on?"
Steve froze as he grabbed the first hanger. "You mean...did he get another relationship?"
"Yes, that's what I mean." Phil's voice was tight.
"He's with Peter now," Steve said, ducking his head as he folded the first shirt and laid it in one of the bags. "He had a rough month after we thought you died and when Peter joined he helped put Clint back together. He's preforming better than he was after Loki's attack. I'm...sorry."
"No, no, I always knew this was a...possibility. When you go off the radar for a long time, people's lives tend to move on and I could never ask for anything else," Phil said. "But it still hurts."
"Yeah, the world has a tendency to move on without you," Steve said with a frown.
"Oh. Of course you would know that better than me. Apologies for my inconsiderate remarks," Phil said.
"They're not inconsiderate," Steve said, looking over at him. "Not if that's how you feel. I...appreciate that you feel as though you can talk to me. It's an honor really."
Phil laughed. "I can't say I've ever had someone say it's an honor to know what I'm feeling, so thank you."
"Well the way I see it, it's hard for all us to adjust to the fact that you're alive and you and Fury hid it from us all, but it's also hard for you to adjust to being...well alive again," Steve said. "With some weird piece of technology in your chest."
"I suppose that's true," Phil said. "Thank you for understanding."
"We're all a team," Steve said. "Or at least we're getting there. Depends on what Stark and the others decide to do."
"You think they will try and break off from SHIELD?" Phil asked, tilting his head to the side.
"Honestly, I don't know. I think we all just need to figure out what we're feeling about all of this," Steve said with a small shrug. "We all do care about you though. I think we're all just feeling too betrayed right now to think rationally."
"You seem to be doing a good job," Phil said with a small smile.
"I'm good at compartmentalizing. At least that's what the SHIELD psychologist tells me," Steve said. "Though I don't think he meant it as a good thing."
His words coaxed another laugh out of Phil, which warmed Steve's chest. "No, I don't think it's supposed to, but we might as well use it to our advantage."
Steve nodded and then folded another shirt to place in the bag. "We'll figure it out. I think...and don't take this the wrong way, but I think you have a lot to apologize for still, and Fury has even more."
"I just hope I can repair the damage."
Steve gave him a reassuring smile. "If anyone can, it's definitely you."