Summary: Fanfic fix for Coulson's death. 'Cause I liked the snarky guy.
Author's Note: This has OCs. I will, hopefully, keep everyone in character. Also this does not have slash. Again, thank you for the feedback. I'm having fun writing this in part because of the reception. Very cool, folks.
Disclaimer: Still don't own anything. Still not making a profit.
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Chapter Three
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The hiss of air exchanging as the hermetically sealed door once again opened and closed was the only hint that Phil Coulson had stepped into the quarantine ward of the infirmary. That and the faint scent and taste of something medicinal. It made the back of his throat dry.
"Good morning," he offered pleasantly, taking in the appearance of his savior. "Who are you?"
The girl seated on the floor looked up through a curtain of hair and chuckled. "Get right to it, dontcha?" she asked, sitting up a little straighter. Her eyes, what he could see of them through that mop of hair, assessed him critically. "You're looking better," she offered evenly, a hint of Midwestern accent flavoring her words.
Coulson stepped to one of the tables and the pitchers of water, pouring himself a glassful before taking a healthy swig. It didn't wash away the taste of the air but it helped the dryness. "As are you, I understand. And your name?"
The girl shrugged. "Not much you can do with it, I suppose. Not like I really exist." She slowly unfolded herself from her seated position and stood. "Mind if I have a glass of that?" She motioned towards the pitcher he was currently using.
Phil nodded, quickly pouring another glass and handing it to the girl, who greedily downed the contents in moments. "What do you mean, 'you don't really exist'?"
Another shrug in answer. "Just that. Not in any databases that you have. Just not there. Though this kinda screws that six ways to Sunday," she added grouchily.
Coulson allowed a small smirk. She wasn't wrong. "Well, since you're obviously not comfortable telling me your name, how about telling me how you got onto this ship?"
The girl shifted from one foot to another. "I called in a favor. A 'porter I know flashed in and dropped me off. Figured I would sneak off at the next stop."
Coulson swallowed the urge to gape. Did she think that the helicarrier worked like some stop on the green line? "Porter?"
"Teleporter. He doesn't have anything to do with this other than giving me the transport onto the ship," she added hastily.
Coulson nodded, though he doubted it. They'd get to the bottom of that situation later. A thorough review of the security tapes was definitely called for. "And how did you stay hidden? The first that anyone saw of you was when Director Fury shot you."
A wince and a quick rub at her shoulder would have told Coulson where Fury had shot her if he hadn't already read the incident report. "Yeah, guess I should thank him for not doing a headshot. Those take longer to heal." She shoved her hands back through her hair, pushing it out of her eyes with a sigh of what sounded like disgust. "This is a big ship. Find a black spandex outfit and you're pretty invisible."
Coulson nodded again, though this time grimly. "I see. And what, exactly, did you do to me?"
Again the fidgeting commenced. Coulson was starting to learn her tells. "I guess you could say that I shared my lifeforce. Not that we're bonded or magically connected to each other," she added hastily. "I just fixed you like a car engine."
Coulson allowed a dry chuckle. "Ah. First mechanic I've met who's been shot by Director Fury."
Another shrug. "Look, I didn't hurt anybody. I didn't mean any harm, either. Just…this is a little bigger than I thought it was. Can we forget this?"
Coulson gaped. Seriously? "Young lady, you broke into a top-secret installation, wandered around doing goodness knows what and you want us to forget it?" He paused as she nodded. "It doesn't work that way."
The young woman pouted, plopping down onto one of the hospital beds in the room. "Crap. Not even 'cause I saved your life?" she asked hopefully.
Coulson shook his head. "If you were looking for a bargaining chip, it would have been better if you had let me die."
That caused the young woman to pull a face. "Not bloody likely, buddy. So, I'm in custody then. Great, just great. So, now what?"
Coulson shifted, hands clasped behind his back and shoulders squared. "Your name?"
Another shrug. "I guess you can call me Grace. Yeah, that'll work."
"For now."
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TBC...