Pinesong by A Fine Frenzy is the inspiration here. This was a hard chapter to write. Thank you guys for the reviews and enjoy!
"So," Stark said, after taking a large bite from a burger. "I think we should start with an apology."
They had flown from the car crash site nearly twenty miles north west, landing on the edge of a town. Coulson wasn't sure if it was Milford or not; he hadn't cared. Being in flight with Stark had made his stomach revolve endlessly. Although he'd been hungry when they'd sat down, he now couldn't even entertain the thought of eating. The smell of the plate of ribs in front of him made him cringe, but his stomach betrayed his head, growling in desire. Still haven't eaten anything all day…
"You sure you don't want something else?" Tony asked.
Coulson shook his head.
"Fries? Loaded baked potato? Caesar Salad?"
"No, stop. I feel like I just flew on the wing of a plane. I can barely stand to watch you eat let alone eat myself."
"Suit yourself. Now, what was I saying? Oh, yeah; an apology would be nice."
"What? Punching me in the face wasn't satisfying enough?"
"Mildly," Stark allowed. "It still doesn't change the facts: Fury used your death to muster the Avengers for that last hoorah in New York."
"I gave him the idea." Coulson frowned. "At least, I think I did. I don't remember much."
"Point is that you were dead. Now, you're alive and you weren't going to tell us."
Coulson read the tone of offense in Stark's eyes. He wasn't saying "us". He was saying "me".
"You weren't supposed to know."
"The protocol crap, Coulson? Really?" Stark put the burger down on the plate and leaned in. "I nearly died in New York. Did they tell you that?"
Coulson stared down at his lap. "It was in the official report."
"Was the PTSD in the report, too? The months I spent trying to grapple with everything that happened, including losing a friend?"
Coulson sighed. "I'm sorry, Mr. Stark."
"No. Not "Mr. Stark". "I'm sorry, Tony." That's only fair."
"I'm sorry, Tony."
Stark nodded. "Okay. It's a good start." He took a sip of his beer. "Now, it's your turn. You can start by explaining how you're still in one piece. Last time, I saw you Loki had made a shish kabob out of you on his scepter and now, you…you're…"
Don't make me think about then. "I died. S.H.I.E.L.D. brought me back," Coulson said, shortly.
"No shit, Sherlock. I want to know how. I want to know why."
"Because…" Coulson started and trailed off. It was exactly what the Clairvoyant had wanted to know. It was what he wanted to know. Everyone on a mad search for an answer that didn't seem to exist. But it wasn't the how of Stark's question that had him reeling but the why.
Why? Why me? Fury had told him he was invaluable to the agency, that he was his "good eye." But if it had been anyone else, any other agent, even any of the Avengers, would S.H.I.E.L.D. have gone to such trouble to bring them back to "restore the man they once were" in Doctor Streiten's words? What was it about his service to S.H.I.E.L.D. that had made him so valuable to them, valuable enough to rip him out of whatever comes after death?
Coulson couldn't stop the slipstream of memories from cascading through his head. First was the sharp burst of Loki's scepter tearing his heart in half. Emptiness, ebbing in his fingertips, the only strength just barely enough to be able to pull the trigger on the gun. Next, the chill of what should have been death as they kept him alive on machines, keeping him breathing as they dug around inside him with every tool imaginable. And lastly that horrible room, the place where the old Phil, the one who had always believed in heroes and good causes finally died.
Don't fight it, Agent Coulson. Stop fighting it.
He was reborn in that place, becoming this…thing that they had manipulated and used for themselves. The violation was so intrusive, so horrific... He couldn't fathom the kind of person that would be able to sleep with the knowledge that they'd...
Stark grabbed Coulson's wrist suddenly. "Phil?"
Coulson shook his head a little. "What?"
Stark motioned to Coulson's hand.
He looked down. He'd grabbed the the steak knife from the table and clenched it in his hand. The blade was biting into the heel of his hand. He dropped the knife and quickly pressed a napkin to the new wound. He glanced up at Stark whose gaze had lost any and all sarcasm, humor, or wit. He looked haunted.
Coulson pulled out of Stark's grip, got up, and left the restaurant, ignoring Stark's plea for him to stop. As he pushed out into the night, he took long deep breaths, trying to calm the riptide of memories that threatened to drag him away from reality.
The restaurant door squeaked open behind him. He knew without looking that it was Stark.
"I'm sorry," he said, closing his eyes and breathing through his nose. "Sometimes I just can't stop from remembering…"
"Let me look at it." Stark approached him and took his wrist again, pulling back the suit jacket. He stopped when the base of the red gouge from earlier was revealed. "What's that?"
Before Coulson could protest, Stark tore the buttons, yanking the shirt sleeve back farther to reveal the horrid gouge from earlier. Fresh blood had stained the sleeve and dripped from the sides of it.
"Jesus, Phil, why didn't you say something?!"
"It happened earlier. I couldn't control it..."
"Did you try to...?"
Coulson couldn't answer him.
"Your stitches have ripped."
"Probably when you yanked me out of my car earlier."
"We've got to get you cleaned up," Stark said. "Hang on, I'll put on the suit. I can fly us to the closest hosp—"
"You can't," Coulson protested, his voice cracking. "S.H.I.E.L.D. can't find me."
"Phil, I know that they lied to you. That girl working for you, Skye? She told me they kept secrets from you. And, I'll admit, them totaling your car was a little intense. But Fury—"
"They altered my memories, Stark!" he all but shouted, making his friend jerk back suddenly and let go. "They put false images inside my head, played around with it until they got back exactly what they wanted; a model agent, someone who wasn't going to ask any questions or make things difficult for them."
"They brainwashed you? Like Manchurian Candidate, "I'll show you the Queen of Diamonds and you'll go off and murder someone" brainwashing?"
Coulson leaned over, hands on his legs, trying to calm the dizziness he was suddenly experiencing. "Yes...no...I don't know." When Stark didn't say anything, he elaborated. "They made me think I was in Tahiti, sipping Mai Tai's and getting massages…"
Stark frowned. "Tahiti?"
"It's a magical…" Coulson closed his mouth and set his jaw, trying hard not to break the sickening pattern they'd programmed for him. He still thought it. …place. He collapsed on his hands and knees, trying to hold in the frustration and pain.
Stark crouched next to him on the sidewalk. "But you remember now what happened?"
Coulson nodded again, feeling like a child.
Stark started to say something. The diner door opened and a group exited, laughing among themselves.
"Come on, this town's got to have a motel somewhere. We can talk there more."
"No," Coulson refused, trying to find the strength to get to his feet. "If S.H.I.E.L.D. has already reached Lola, then they'll be on their way here next. They're going to comb everywhere in a fifty yard radius because they'll know I couldn't have gotten far on foot."
"Then, we'll fly. I can get us to Pennsylvania."
"If I go up in the air with you again, I'm going to puke."
Tony cringed and stuck his tongue out a little. "Nope. Whole lotta nope."
Coulson looked up, scanning the street front of the restaurant. He pointed to a black Toyota Camry just beyond the bright street lights. "That one."
Stark's eyes fell on the car then back to Coulson. "Did you just tell me to steal a car?"
"I thought you'd approve."
"I do, I'm just…not used to you not being a boy scout about breaking the law." He offered his hand and Coulson took it, getting wearily to his feet. The closer they got to the car, the more Tony cringed.
"What?" Coulson asked.
"Why not get something with some horsepower, a little bit of pizzazz? Like that one?" He pointed to a burnt orange convertible further up the street. "That looks like it could have us where we need to be in half the time that this soccer mom car would."
"How many times do I need to explain that I'm on the run from a government agency?" Coulson rolled his eyes. "I already have one of the richest men in the world with one of the most recognizable faces trying to help me. I don't need to stand out anymore than that."
"You do make a good point."
"Besides, the Camry is one of the most popular nondescript cars in America. It'll be easier to lose ourselves in traffic with it."
"JARVIS, let's suit up," Stark ordered and pressed a button. Within moments, the suit seemed to unfold from thin air and envelope his jeans, t-shirt, head and neck. He grabbed the door handle and gave it a timid pull, breaking the lock. After he'd unlocked the other door, he let Coulson climb in.
"At least, if I bleed in here, it won't be your upholstery to clean," Coulson chuckled, closing his eyes and leaning back in the seat.
"Blood is blood. That doesn't matter to me." Tony turned to him suddenly. "But if you puke..."
"I'll try to refrain."
Stark pushed a couple fingers to the keyslot and said, "Okay, JARVIS, time for a little grand theft auto."
"And I thought this modification was rather pointless," JARVIS commented as a long flat blade appeared from the tip of the iron suit's fingers and entered the keyslot. With a little twisting, the car's engine turned over in a healthy rumble.
"So, Agent, where exactly are we heading?"
Coulson stared into space for a moment.
"I need a heading, Captain," Stark said in a mock pirate tone.
"You remember when you offered to fly me to Portland?"
"I think the operative word in that sentence was "fly"."
The agent nodded resolutely. "Portland. That's where we're going."
"Keeping love alive?"
Coulson opened his mouth but decided not to say anything. It was a selfish idea, his whole thought to run away, to find her in Portland and see her once again. He hoped that it would be enough to save his life.
Sorry that it took me a little longer to get this chapter up than I'd intended. I've been neglecting authory stuff and needed to attend to that. This was also a tough chapter for me to write. I had to rewatch The Avengers for a little inspiration and to get a refresher on the relationship between Coulson and Stark. I'm going to try and work more on Chapter 12 tonight; don't know how much I'm going to get done as I do still have important blogging stuff to do. If not tonight; tomorrow morning. Thanks, guys!