Chapter Ten: Mourners Before a Funeral

"How sweet. That rain. How something that lives only to fall can be nothing but sweet." -Ocean Vuong

When Audrey met Phil Coulson for the first time, he was fresh out of the Academy and she was interning in the linguistics department for a few years. She looked like she was fourteen years old at the time.

The two had never been close—different departments and assignments, him only knowing about her parentage when he reached a level 9. (Before that, any S.H.I.E.L.D. agent who crossed paths with her was just told that she was a child prodigy).

Nonetheless, Audrey remembered Coulson as one of S.H.I.E.L.D.'s most dedicated agents. He was incredibly loyal and had one of the longest field histories in the agency. But more than that, he'd always been kind to her without needing a reason.

She could remember him bringing her donuts whenever he headed down to the cafeteria for coffee, or, once he became her supervisor, and the faith he showed in her when she headed her first team. Audrey recalled his excitement when he'd collected all of the Captain America trading cards, his selflessness whenever his field team needed to work with her investigative one, the days they'd spent together during the eventful mission in New Mexico. She could recall the day he spontaneously started listening to cello music and his obsession with that dumb red car, and these details were what brought tears to her eyes when she reached the scene of his death. His body had been covered by the time she got there, but they hadn't had the chance to wheel it away.

She swiped at the tears with her hands. Act professional. But… was she just supposed to watch this stone-cold? This was her work life and her emotions intersecting, and she didn't know which direction to follow.

Audrey threw a hand over her mouth as they lifted him onto the stretcher, a sob threatening to fall from her lips. No victory comes without its costs, she reminded herself. Coulson had been at the front of the fight against Loki. The idea that he could be replaced was so far out of her grasp that she couldn't bear to picture it.

Loki had gone for the heart of this mission. And he'd succeeded.

Audrey clenched her fists and squeezed her eyes shut. She imagined that, had she known him better, she'd feel much more sadness than anger at Coulson's death. And while she was mourning, she was feeling something much more prominent: rage.

"Carter."

Her eyes flew open and she swivelled, the hem of her cape brushing against her ankles and grounding her back to reality. She was looking Fury in the eye.

There was a reasonable chance it was her imagination, but she could swear she saw something in him soften for a fraction of a second. He hesitated briefly before he said anything. "Romanoff's comm went out before Coulson's death was reported," he decided after a moment. "You're the most empathetic person on this boat. I need you to tell her."

Audrey nodded. "Where is she?"

"Infirmary room nine." The blonde thought that Romanoff might've gotten injured in the attack, but then Fury followed with, "She's with Barton." Audrey paused for a minute, processing this. Barton's back. They might've lost one of the most powerful members of their team, but so had Loki.

When she finally figured out how to make her feet move again, she exited through one of the hallways. This is good, she thought. If I can make my legs move forward we can figure out how to make an army move too.

As she passed through the sterile maze of halls, she considered what Fury had called her. Empathetic. Was that meant to be a compliment or an insult? In the real world, maybe a compliment. But here? Probably not.

It didn't matter. It was making her useful now.

The entire organization was reeling, she knew that, but at some point, she was going to need to talk to Tony and figure things out. That fight had been out of line, but more importantly, it had been out of character. Had he meant what he said about her being immature? Had she meant what she said, or had it just been anger? They needed to talk.

That is, if they survived long enough to have a heart-to-heart.

And as of the matter at hand, how was she supposed to tell one of the most terrifying people she knew that their mentor had died? Audrey knew that Coulson had reached out to Natasha when Clint brought her back. She'd been twenty-three at the time. Barely more than a child. And for all her training, he'd managed to get her to open up. He and Clint had been her closest connections to S.H.I.E.L.D. Sometimes, Audrey suspected that her loyalty was more to them and less to the agency. And now, half of her connections were gone. Severed. Wrapped up in a body bag.

She arrived outside the infirmary room and tapped the door lightly as she opened it. Inside, Natasha was sitting in a chair getting patched up by Erin. Next to her, Barton lay unconscious, strapped down to a bed. For a moment, Audrey was worried that he might wake up and slip out and grab Natasha, but this was the Black Widow. Everything she did had a purpose.

"I need to talk to you," Audrey stated firmly, though by the look on her face, she wasn't as confident as her words had been.

The nurse glanced up at Natasha, then at Audrey. "I'll be back later," Erin decided. She finished wiping the cut on the redhead's face, and then packed up her kit and headed out the door, letting it fall shut behind her.

"What is it?" Natasha asked.

"Your comm went out before it was reported." She sighed. Audrey couldn't bring herself to say it in a voice any louder than a whisper. "Coulson is down," she murmured.

Natasha flinched, barely. A tense moment passed where Audrey let her eyes roam the room—the door to a closet or a bathroom; Barton, lying unconscious, eyes closed so she couldn't tell if they were still the same shade of ice blue they'd been under Loki's control. Audrey tugged at a hangnail on her hand.

"How?" Romanoff asked finally.

Closing her eyes, Audrey replied concisely. "Loki. Stab wound through the heart. They called it a few minutes ago."

Romanoff looked down, but she didn't cry. "How many others?"

Audrey fiddled with her hands for a moment. "We aren't sure. A few dozen. They're still sweeping for bodies."

Numbly, Natasha nodded. She cast a glance over at Clint, but blinked her eyes back to Audrey soon after. The blonde tried to read into her expression, to see what she was feeling, but the spy's visage was blank, as it had been trained to be. "How many on the Initiative were lost?"

Audrey swallowed. She hadn't gotten definite numbers, so she ran through a list out loud. "Tony and Steve are alive, they're helping in the sweep. Thor's status is unknown. Bru—uh, Banner's as well." After a moment's deliberation, she told Natasha, "I'm sorry about Coulson."

A sliver of shock crossed Romanoff's face as she looked up at Audrey, but it died just as quickly as it had appeared.

Barton made a choking sound from where he was lying, and Audrey nodded in his direction. "I'm glad he's back. We need all the firepower we can get." And then, she turned and left. After the door shut, she leaned against it for a second, trying to catch her breath. Her heart hurt, her muscles ached, her head was throbbing. Her body, at the moment, was coming off its adrenaline high and running on fury at the destruction Loki had wrought.

This was a good fight, and an important one, but right now she wanted to crawl back into her apartment and pass out. Audrey didn't understand. Things had felt so right while she was fighting, but now? Now she just felt weak. How did her parents do this? How had any of the people on this machine?

It was just another reminder that she was useless.

Well, she thought, you are standing and doing nothing.

Right. If she wanted to be useful, she should probably make use of herself.

Audrey opened her eyes and started to step into the traffic of the hallways, but stopped short to avoid getting run over by a passing gurney.

Wait.

Was that—Darcy?

She followed for a second, taking note of the bloodied towel wrapped around Darcy's shin. "Stupid fucking reindeer hat asshole. I'm gonna kill him once I stop bleeding!" the brunette was shouting defiantly, between hissing at the pain.

Crap. If that had been a point-blank shot to her leg, she might not walk again.

The blonde caught sight of Erin heading from the gurney's side to a nearby nursing station. Rushing over, she asked, "Is she gonna be okay? What happened?"

The nurse frowned. "She was grazed trying to protect one of the scientists." Jane. "The bullet likely didn't do very much damage, as far as I know, but she'll need time to recover. She should be fine as long as she avoids infection." Another nurse called out for assistance and Erin shot Audrey an apologetic look before getting back to work.

Audrey had never felt closer to falling apart, and of course it was in the one situation where she needed desperately to keep it together. They couldn't lose anyone else; they'd been weakened enough as it was. Sitting here isn't going to do me any good.

She straightened her shoulders and stalked out of the hospital, observing the Helicarrier through the chaos. She needed to help somehow. Bringing bodies over to the infirmary, sweeping up glass. Something.

But first she needed to get out of this suit. The top was beginning to tear from the bullet, the cape was almost in tatters, and these shoes were nice for combat and all, but not for helping with cleanup.

Heading to the locker room, she slipped into a pair of pants and a training jacket, and then checked her phone. She found two missed calls from Josh, one from Claudia, and three from her mom. Oh Christ. If her mom had found out about the attack and wasn't able to reach her, she would no doubt begin to panic. Audrey tried to call her back, but found that the service on the Helicarrier had been knocked out.

Later, she promised to herself.

Slamming her locker shut, she headed down to the bridge room where she found Sitwell delegating tasks. "Where do we need help?" she asked.

Sitwell glanced down at his tablet. "They're still sweeping for injuries on the lower level, and they're working on finalizing repairs on the engines."

Audrey nodded. She would be no help with the engineering, but she could assist the nurses so they could focus more on actually treating the patients.

She took an elevator to a lower level, running into a paramedic almost immediately. "Do you mind handling the starboard-north wing?" he asked her. He was carrying a small woman in his arms, a first aid kit hanging from his finders.

The blonde nodded vigorously and he jogged off in the direction of the elevator she'd just left. In her head, she thanked Peggy for teaching her what port and starboard actually meant.

Within the first two minutes of her search, she heard the faint call for help from down the hall. "Hey," Audrey called back. She jogged towards the voice. "Can you hear me? I'm here to help you. My name is Audrey."

When Audrey reached her, the woman was still breathing heavily, like she was on the verge of a panic attack. A large pipe was strewn across her torso and that of another woman, who had a large gash on her head. "One of the bars hit my coworker in the head, she won't wake up and I can't—I don't know what's wrong and I can't get her up and I—" She stopped short. "God, what if she's dead?"

The blonde frowned. "Can you check if she has a pulse?"

"Oh, of course, I—let me see." The woman shuffled and Audrey started pacing towards the end of the pipe. "She has a pulse, but I'm worried she won't be able to breathe soon."

Audrey surveyed the pipe. It was about two feet in diameter, but the end where she was standing lay four or five meters away from the women. She was going to have to lift it pretty high in the air to let them escape. "Okay. We're gonna figure this out. What's your name?"

"Nicole," the woman answered. "Bray. Agent Nicole Bray. This is Agent Reynolds..." she paused. "Beatrice."

Audrey ran a hand over the rim. The pipe itself was stuck under various pieces of debris, but nothing that would be too inhibiting if she tried to lift it. The biggest problem was probably the weight of the pipe itself, but it wasn't filled with water anymore—that had all leaked out and begun to pool around Audrey's feet. "Where do you work? What department?"

She leaned over. Gripping two hands underneath the pipe's jagged end, she set her heels into the ground, trying to keep from slipping, and prepared to lift it up.

"Archives," Nicole replied. Her voice seemed to calm down a bit, probably more from the hope of rescue than from the conversation. But just in case, Audrey kept talking.

"Oh, that's cool. Are you based in New York?"

Nicole shook her head. "No. We—we work in Los Angeles. They wanted us here for a few months because there's a shortage of East Coast archivists so they pulled from our base instead."

"Hey, I was born in L.A." She paused. "I'm gonna try lifting the bar up now, do you think you can pull yourself out and then grab your… uh, Beatrice?"

Nicole answered with a relieved, "Mm hmm. Yes. Oh my god."

"Okay. One, two, thr—" Audrey gritted her teeth, pulling the bar up and grunting. Her body shook from the weight pressing down into her hands, but she transferred the pipe so it was resting on her shoulder. It bit into the muscle there, pressing all the way through her core and into her knees, her feet, which began sliding under the pressure. She fumbled to right them as Nicole slipped out and yanked Beatrice out with her.

It was a lot heavier than it had looked at first. Her arms were starting to go numb, threatening to let go if they weren't clear soon.

"We're good!" she called, and Audrey scrambled to pull the pipe off her body, letting it fall to the ground with a loud thud. She flinched at the sound, probably not a comfort to two people in the midst of a completely traumatic situation.

Nicole had stumbled over until she was standing, sort of. She leaned against the wall and dragged one leg behind her. Audrey dropped to the floor next to Beatrice and pressed an ear to her heart, which, thankfully, was still beating. Her chest continued rising and falling, through the hem of her shirt was lifted to reveal a huge bruise blossoming on her stomach. She might've had a concussion, and if they didn't get her to the med bay soon, all her injuries could be fatal.

"I think we should leave your shoes," Audrey decided, looking up at Nicole. "They'll make any leg injuries worse, and they'll slow us down. Or I can take you one at a time, but if you think you can walk back, you should leave your pumps behind. I'm sorry."

"That's fine. That's—" Nicole laughed, but she sounded on the verge of tears simultaneously. "I hate these shoes anyway."

Audrey looked into her eyes, looked down at the woman's crushed ankle. She smiled at her, trying to tell her that everything was going to be okay.

But honestly? She had no idea.

Once Audrey had finished sweeping the area twice and collected a dozen more victims of the attack, she headed back up to the bridge. She was heading past one of the hallways full of offices when Steve appeared from a debriefing room, face cleaned but bruised from the fight.

"Can we talk?" he asked.

Audrey swallowed, but nodded. "Sure, uh. Like, here, or is this a private conversation?"

Steve glanced over his shoulder and then down the hallway. "There's a conference room down there, I think. That might be… better."

She ran a hand through her hair, but nodded. "Okay. Lead the way."

A feeling of dread was starting to make its way into her stomach. This was the part where he realized that Tony was right and she was immature. This was the part where he said he didn't want to work with her. This was the part where he said he didn't believe she'd been just as oblivious to the HYDRA weapons as he had and then tried to ensure he never had to see her again. Audrey clenched her teeth, wondering what another blow would feel like. They had already lost so much today, would it even make a difference?

Steve opened the door for her and she stepped inside. Only in the sterile air of the untouched office space did Audrey realize how much she wanted a shower.

There was a large table in the room, and a projection screen on the side. She wasn't sure whether she ought to sit or stand, but her legs already hurt from the fights earlier, so she pulled out one of the chairs and planted herself in it. Steve followed, taking the seat beside her. They stared at each other for a moment until Audrey broke away, glancing at her hands. Blood and dirt and dust were buried under her fingernails, so deep embedded she wondered if they would ever come out.

It wouldn't matter. She'd never be able to wash away the things that had happened today. The loss and the emptiness. She'd never be able to forget it, no matter how hard she tried.

"I just wanted to say that I'm sorry," Steve apologized finally. "I'm sorry for accusing you. I knew—even as I was saying it—I knew you wouldn't lie like that. I'm still trying to adjust to the fact that I missed so much, and this is all so unfamiliar, I don't… I know know who to trust, but I should have trusted you." He laughed for a second. "Anyone raised by Peggy is someone I should trust."

Relief rushed over Audrey in waves. She nodded, biting her lip. Releasing it, she replied, "I get it." Well. I mean... "I've never… been where you are. Not in the exact situation you're in, I mean. Everything has changed. We met, like, less than a week ago, so I get your hesitation, but I just…" How should she say this? That she wanted to get to know him? How did she tell him that this wasn't just an assignment anymore? "I want you to know that I'm here for you, I guess, and I want you to… be a part of my life? Yeah. I mean. If you want to."

"I do," Steve assured her. "I've been gone for so much—I mean, I've missed practically everything, but you're still my…" He trailed off, unsure if he wanted to say it out loud.

She understood why. It was for the same reason that she hadn't called him dad yet. At least, not to his face. "We'll figure it out," she supplied, to fill the awkward gap in the conversation. "With all the aging stuff, I mean… we've got time." She smiled sadly. It was almost a comfort to know that the two of them were doomed to the same fate, to outlive everyone they loved.

He sighed. "When I… for the minutes between escaping the base and meeting you, I thought I was on another planet. Alone. I lost Bucky, I lost myself, I thought. But I'm not, and I've plenty of stupid things before but I'm not dumb enough to give that up." Steve swallowed. "I realized that… we lost so much today, and you're the only real connection I have to my… to my life before the crash and I don't want to lose you too."

Audrey swallowed the lump in her throat. Tears were threatening to spill into her eyes, and she hated herself for being so emotional. "I thought I lost you. I spent—I spent almost seventy years thinking I lost you, and I just got you back." She shoved herself out of her chair and paced for a moment. In spite of everything, she laughed. When she stopped, she looked Steve in the eyes and said, "Don't die on me again."

Steve cracked the slightest smile. "I'll do my best." He stood up next to her. "We're going to win this. I promise you, we're going to do whatever it takes and we're going to win."

Any optimism was fuel to fight Audrey's exhaustion, and she began to nod furiously. "I'm new to this whole thing—very new—but Loki won't get away with this. He can't. I'm done watching innocent people die." She groaned, placing her head in her hands. "I'm just so angry that he got away. He could be anywhere. He could attack us now and what can we do about it? We're missing the two most powerful members of our team—physically, at least—I...I am beyond exhausted, Romanoff lost her mentor, and Barton's… out of it, based on what I just saw. I just… I don't even know anymore. I hate this feeling, I hate it."

"Hopelessness?" Steve supplied. "I hate it too. But we're not hopeless. We're built to bring hope. And I know you didn't choose this so it's probably different, but everything that was given to me—to us—it's stuff that saves lives. And I can't get rid of it, so I might as well do something with it."

He was right. It wasn't her decision to be like this but it also wasn't something she could change. She thought back to the fighting earlier that day, how good it had felt knowing she was saving someone's life. It might not have been her decision, but it was the right thing to do.

And if there was anything her parents had taught her, it was to do the right thing.

Without thinking, Audrey launched herself at Steve, wrapping her arms around him in a hug, this one far less awkward than the one in the elevator.

He returned the embrace with ease. "It's gonna be okay," he soothed. "We're going to fight and we're going to win this. I promise."

"Yeah," she mumbled. "We're gonna win."

"Carter," someone spoke into her ear and Audrey jumped, only then realizing that it was her earpiece.

"Yes, sir?"

"I'm calling a meeting on the bridge. Bring the Captain."

Audrey nodded. "Yes, sir." Turning to Steve, she repeated, "Fury wants us on the bridge for a meeting. I'm assuming it's to figure out where we go from here."

The soldier nodded. This was the start of a war, and they were going to need to start preparing.

Chapter Eleven: The Avengers Initiative

Never meet your heroes, Audrey supposed. Or they'll get you killed.