"Scorching Hot"

When they reached the lab, Phil darted to one side of the metal cages, and May stayed on the other. She held Johnny back behind her, and the two SHIELD agents peered around in time to see Chan burn their Hong Kong man. Johnny gasped loudly. Phil approached Chan, trying to talk him down and all the while aware that his husband was back there, still weak from some kind of hoodoo or scientific anomaly. If kisses were the cure, he was leaning towards the former, and made a note to speak with a specialist in that field.

Then Chan geared up to fire, and Phil found himself being shoved out of the way. He saw Johnny take the impact of the flames, and then return them to Chan, incinerating the young man until only ash remained.

"Teach you to threaten my husband," Johnny muttered. Then he turned an angry gaze on said husband, and Phil swallowed. "And you. When were you planning to tell me that you're alive? I thought… I thought I'd died, and then that man… and I could feel the heat…"

"We were trying to catch Chan alive," May said. Johnny scowled at her.

"He was a lost cause," he said. "I could tell. There was something in him. Believe me, he was beyond redemption at this stage." Then he turned back to Phil. "We are alive, aren't we? You didn't actually die?"

"Can we discuss this elsewhere?" Phil said. "Now that we don't have to take him in, I guess there's nothing else we can do. They will have been alerted. Let's get out of here."

He stood up, and they left the facility in silence, taking out guards when necessary, and escaping with minimal fuss. Johnny was angry enough to fry their remains, and even flamed a few of them to death, which was particularly gruesome, but nothing Phil and May hadn't seen in the last half hour. It was the grim look on Johnny's face that worried him the most, not to mention the conversation they had to have later on.

They reached the big bus in good time, and Phil regretted what he had to do.

"I know you'll hate this," he said. "But why don't you go and have a shower? I need to talk to… one of my people, and I'm sure you won't want to sit around, twiddling your thumbs, while I do that."

Johnny looked out over the rest of the crew, and then back to Phil.

"All right," he said. "But then we talk. Because I'm still half in a dream here, and I need to wake up."

Fitz went to speak, and Phil hushed him with a look. He left Johnny in Ward's care, and sighed internally as he watched them go. Once upon a time, he would've gladly shared a shower with Johnny, even the pokey one on the bus. That made it all the more fun. But he had a difficult conversation ahead of him, maybe a couple of them, before he could give thought to what he was going to say to Johnny. Phil didn't know the full details of his cure, so there was no explaining that to his husband. Were they husbands anymore? A dead man couldn't sign divorce papers; however, Phil had – technically – died more than once. That could be considered sufficient enough to declare Johnny a widower, and free to be with whomever he liked. Or loved.

Leaning back in his chair – just for a minute, before he had to get back to work – Phil allowed his heart to break a little. Johnny had kissed him, but that was more than likely an automatic reaction. It didn't mean anything. It had been a year since New York, since Johnny had said he never wanted to see Phil again.

"Screw this," he said, and he left his office. By the time he reached everyone else on the deck, with only Agent May no longer present, Johnny and Ward were with the others, and the bus was moving. Phil shook his head when Skye went to move closer to him. She could wait. Work could wait for once.

"Is this all real?" Johnny asked. He hadn't shaved. It made him look older, although that could've been the different set to his shoulders, the darker skin around his eyes, and the more prominent cheekbones. He looked something close to the dictionary definition of 'gaunt'. Phil's heart ached.

"It is," he said. "After I died—"

"You're alive."

"…After my accident on the Helicarrier, the medics managed to revive me temporarily, an action they had to repeat several times. I was taken to a classified location and healed there, although the details haven't been disclosed to me. By rights, I should have died. If I did, and this is just a copy of me, it's a very good one."

"Is that so?" Johnny said. He looked nervous, unstable; yet he didn't back up when Phil began to walk towards him. "You expect me to believe that?"

"I expect your guess to be as good as mine. But I have a scar, just here." He traced his hand over his chest, right where Loki's sceptre had sliced through him like a knife through butter. "That's not why I believe I'm real, though. I think that I'm real because my feelings for you are just the same as ever. Since the first time we met. Did I ever tell you that I fell in love with you at first sight?" Johnny shook his head, eyes wide. "I am real, Johnny. I'm really here, I'm alive, and so are you."

"It's true," Ward said, and he coughed. "I only know because I'm level seven, and was called in for this. Not many people know, and we're keeping it that way."

"Trying to," Phil said. He reached out. "Johnny…"

Then a fist met his nose, and Phil nearly fell over.

"You asshole!" Johnny shouted.


Quite right indeed.

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