Blue Fire (feat. Amenta) by Stateless is the inspiration here. Enjoy!

Phil Coulson stood stiffly just inside the door of Director Nick Fury's office. He was afraid to open his mouth, afraid to breathe. One single exhale could reveal a hitch in his breath, his unsurmountable fears that had been gathering ever since earlier that day. All he could do was stare and try to keep it in.

Director Fury stood up from his chair, his brow furrowing as he stepped around his desk and approached Coulson. "I heard what happened to you in the desert."

"I'm fine," Coulson managed. Too fast. I answered too fast.

Fury sighed. "Looks like you took a hell of a beating."

"I've had worse."

"That you have. Well, I'm glad that you're back with us." He set his hand on the agent's shoulder.

Coulson flinched.

Fury removed his hand quickly, as if he'd accidentally shocked him. "Why don't you have a seat? Can I get you a glass of something?"

Coulson sat, anything to keep his knees from knocking together. I just want to leave. I just want to go. "No, thanks."

The director leaned against his desk and locked his eye on Coulson's blue ones. "I got a call from Doctor Streiten last night. Seems he had an unexpected visit from you last week." He put his hands up. "It's a wonder that I'm hearing about it only now."

"Sir, I was just—"

"You remember, don't you?"

The question was straight to the point. However much Coulson had been expecting it, he was still unprepared for the loss of words it gave him. He cleared his throat and nodded.

Fury was silent for a long time, much longer than Coulson would have liked. But he understood it. It didn't stop his own anger and frustration from building. He felt it might begin to show steam rising from his skin, a heat given off that he couldn't control. Sweat poured from his brow and under his arms. He couldn't hold it in anymore.

"You played God, sir," he said, trying to keep his voice from hitching. "It was my time and I was supposed to go."

"Phil, it was not your time," Fury said, as if he were talking to a child. The tone only made Coulson's rage grow.

"You had no right to decide that," he seethed. "Even when I was begging for death, you kept me anchored in that room, feeling every bit of pain during all of those surgeries…"

"I wasn't going to let Loki beat us," Fury rumbled, standing and walking to the window. "I wasn't going to let him beat me. If there was a chance to save you, I wanted to take it."

"Did you ever stop to think if you should?" he asked, standing up. "Jesus, it's my life, damn it. If I had wanted it to end, you should have just let it end."

"There are other factors in play that you can't begin to imagine, Phil." Fury rounded on him so fast that Coulson nearly stepped backward in fear. He kept his ground though.

""Other factors"?" Coulson echoed, clearing his voice.

"Ones that are beyond your clearance level."

"That's ridiculous!"

"Nevertheless, we are bound by confidentiality clauses here and even if I wanted to tell you, my hands are tied."

"I dream about that room, Nick."

Fury's eye found the floor once again.

"I haven't stopped dreaming about it in a week. What those doctors did to me was unconscionable, altering my memories…"

"For your own good!" Fury blasted. "You wouldn't be the man you are today without them."

"I don't want to live on lies…" he pleaded. "I don't know what to trust anymore."

Fury approached him again, his face stern. "You trust the job. The missions. Your team. And despite what you might think, you can trust me, Phil."

The idea was like poison seeming into Coulson's system. How could he trust his former friend and commanding officer? How could he even look in his eyes after what he'd done?

"You're going to stay in New York," Fury said, turning back to his desk. "Have a psych profile done while you're here."

"That's unnecessary."

"Is it now?" Fury turned back to him, eye wide. "Dreaming about what happened to you in that room for a week?"

Coulson closed his eyes. He'd walked right into that one.

"You're going to take the psych evaluation. If it clears, you get back on the plane and go after the rest of Project Centipede."

"We're going to lose them if we waste our time here…"

"I'm going to have Agents Hand and Hill continue the search while you're here."

Coulson shook his head. He'd never meant to implode in front of Fury, never meant to show all of the anger and frustration. But he also couldn't be a robot and ignore everything that had been done to him.

"Do you remember anything before that room?" Fury questioned suddenly sitting back in his chair behind his desk. His eye analyzed Coulson like a machine analyzing for viruses. Deep, too close, too watchful.

"N-No."

The stammer.

The damn stutter.

It had given him away.

And just as he'd expected, Fury pretended not to notice. "Tomorrow 0800. You'll meet with the shrink."

"Yes, sir." It took everything he had to keep his voice civil.

"Dismissed."

Chapter 4 coming soon...