Thanks for the positive response on this story, guys! It was intended to just be a one shot (like all of my stories), but then I started writing a couple of other ones, and now I can't stop. I'll probably be posting a few more drabbles over the next few weeks (if I can finish all of them). It's out of chronological order, but hopefully you'll be able to tell what's going on. Thanks again for the favorites, follows, and reviews! Enjoy the story!
~Quincy
He was alone now.
Slumped against the wall, he wondered how long it would take them to find him. Both Asgardians were gone, leaving him alone in the huge metal room.
He wondered how much time he had left-each breath burned, and he could feel blood soaking his shirt-and if he'd still be here when they did come. Maybe he'd never get a chance to say goodbye...
No, there was no use thinking like that. He had a few moments of life left; might as well focus on the good things.
A still-glowing hole gaped in the wall, and the heavy weapon that had created it was still in his lap. He'd gotten to find out what that did. Which was a pretty great thing.
He got to meet Captain America, which might be the greatest thing on the list. It's not every day you get to shake your childhood hero's hand.
His Captain America trading cards (vintage, mint condition) were still stashed safely in his locker, where nothing could happen to them.
He let out a contented sigh. Yes, Phil Coulson had lived a good life.