Phil Coulson is just a guy. He doesn't think much of himself. And he doesn't think less of himself. He knows who he is and what he can do. No more, no less.

So when Nick Fury lost an eye and took three bullets to the chest, he asked Phil to take over. Shield needed a leader. And Fury told him in confidence that he'd rather see shield rot then in the hands of Pierce or Rumlow.

So Phil, knowing he could do it, and that he would do it right, said yes. He had a person in mind. Someone he modeled his decisions after. Not that that person had been around for the last 25 years. But still Phil thought "what would he do if he was here?"

And that question has saved him and Shield many times over. No power plays. No capitalistic grabs. Just hard work, and dedication to people's safety.

Which is why Phil knows something is wrong long before he can prove it.

—-

Phil sees the two pods.

And maybe he only knows them by pictures. And maybe it's his mind playing tricks on him.

But it doesn't matter because the knife plunges into his spine before he can decide whether he's hallucinating or not.

He can hear the flurry of them moving. Destroying evidence and wheeling the pods away.

And while the blood from his body seeps out and cools, he uses whatever strength he has left to pull out his badge from his back pocket.

—-

"Director Coulson!"

He sees blonde hair and then red.

"It's okay." He breathes out, knowing it's the opposite. His heart sludges on, but not for much longer.

Clint's eyes stare at him widely, "you didn't wait for the back up!" The young man accuses, "you were supposed to wait for us!" Panicked eyes scour for the wound.

"Didn't have time." Phil says evenly, "knew they were clearing out. Needed to see it with my own eyes."

"Clint—" Natasha's voice says in a frantic attempt to stay calm.

"Yes," Phil says with a smile, "I am dying." He looks at the blood covered hand she has in front of her, "I need you to do something for me."

"Clint, call the medics!"

Clint is staring at them both like he's seeing a ghost.

"Hmm." Phil responds calmly, "there's no time. I need you to do something for me."

"Don't talk." Natasha says, her delicate fingers belying the strength she possesses as she presses her fingers against the wound. "Save your energy."

"Take out my badge." Phil says, ignoring her advice. He's running out of time. And there's only one person who could possibly help them. Who needs to know. "Find the penny that is from 1918."

"I think he's in shock." Natasha says to Clint, then she looks down at Phil and smiles, a rare genuine smile that only just hides her anxiety. "It's going to be alright. Don't you worry about a thing."

"A charming sentiment." Phil says dryly, a cough then wracking his chest painfully, "but it's not going to be alright unless you follow my instructions."

Clint's face gets serious, leaning over him, "what is it, Director?"

"Get the penny. Take it to Howard Stark. Only Howard Stark. Do you understand me?"

"Stark? The reclusive billionaire?"

Phil's chest is getting tighter, and his throat drier. "Yes. Show him the penny. Say it's from me. He will understand. Repeat my instructions."

"Take the 1918 penny to Howard Stark…" Natasha repeats, "say it's from you."

Phil nods, taking a deep breath and feeling his eyes droop, their young scared faces the last thing he'll ever see in this world. "Save them. Make me proud."

And Phil Coulson knows nothing more.

—

Clint looks up from where Phil Coulson, director of Shield, had just… died.

Natasha looks like she's having a silent panic attack.

His is not so silent.

"What the hell!" He shouts, standing and backing up, "what the hell, what the hell!"

"This is bad." Natasha whispers, "this is really bad."

"Agents!"

The voice of Pierce, approaching the stairs to the cold dank basement puts them on alert.

Clint runs forward, ripping Coulson's badge out of his hand and yanking the plastic card out. Three coins fall with a light clatter and he snags two and Natasha picks up the last before Clint's shoving the leather folio back into the dead man's hands.

"Down here!" Natasha calls out, slipping the penny into her boot. Clint mirrors her, one in each shoe before straightening and kneeling by Coulson's body.

"What happened?" Pierce's voice cut in, entering the room, "is that—"

"Director Coulson," Natasha says as if reporting the weather, "he's dead."

Pierce lets out a long suffering sigh. "Well, shit." Then his observant and slightly terrifying gaze turns to them, "was he still alive when you found him?"

"Yes," Natasha says right as Clint says, "no."

They glare at each other and then Clint waves shortly at the body as if annoyed, "I mean, he was breathing but he wasn't coherent."

He silently begs Natasha to keep her mouth shut.

"Agent Romanoff?" Pierce turns his gaze to her, "did you speak to the director before he died?"

"No sir. He was mumbling when I found him, nothing I could understand."

Pierce's eyes study the room and his eyes land on the two circles set in the ground, mechanical wires and a clear tube sticking out of each one. Clint watches as recognition seeps into his expression, but Clint doesn't know why. "Dismissed." Pierce barks, "report to HQ immediately for debriefing."

"Yes, sir." They both snap out and then they're gone.

—

There's no privacy to speak as they walk up and out of the facility they'd gotten strange reports from. Shield agents are everywhere. They say nothing of their director's death. Just walk quietly until they get in the car that they arrived in.

"We—"

"Are very tired." Clint says quickly, cutting her off. "You want to get coffee before hitting HQ?"

Natasha's younger than him, both of them barely even considered Agents. But she's smart.

"Yeah." She says, her eyes flicking to the rear view mirror, "coffee."

—

They drive to a Starbucks and leave the car. Walking into the store and out the other door, not looking back.

—

After two changes of clothes, one stolen car, and a quick meal, they finally feel safe enough to speak.

"What the hell are we doing." Is Natasha's first question. "Why aren't we going to HQ?" Is her second.

She hadn't questioned him at all. Not the car ditching, or the clothes changing. He'd expected pushback. But she didn't.

"We're going to see Howard Stark."

She blinks at him, "Director Coulson was—"

"Dying." Clint says, "I know. Probably in shock. Maybe speaking out of the last insane moments of a dying man." Clint sighs, sipping at the soda he's picked up to help keep his mind alert, "but…" he glances at her and then back at the road as they drive on the dark road, "what if it's not insane?"

"Explain."

"When have you ever doubted Coulson?"

"Never."

"Right. Me either. I know we're both new to the program. But I've never seen anyone hate the guy. Except—"

"Except Strike Team."

Clint raises an eyebrow, "so you're observant."

Natasha lets out a small laugh as she wipes the grease off her fingers, "they're not very subtle about it."

"Strike Team likes to run their own ops. They're efficient, don't get me wrong, but they're unbalanced. Too rash, almost…" his mind goes to the fight he heard Coulson and Pierce having a week ago.

— "they're bloodthirsty, Pierce. Either you need to reign them in or I will."

"Of course, your timid majesty." Pierce had sneered. "I knew you didn't have the spine for this job, Fury should have handed it to me."

"I think we both know it's exactly why he didn't."

"I have a hunch." Clint says, blinking back to the present, "what if this was a plan."

Natasha eyes him again, a French fry held between two fingers, only the stereo lights illuminating her, "explain." She repeats.

"Pierce and Coulson have been at each other's necks since they were academy cadets." Clint points to Natasha, "Pierce is technically seniority, older by Coulson by a year or two, but Fury didn't pick him. Fury picked Coulson. Now they're really at each other's throats—"

"How do you know all this? I haven't heard this."

"I listen." Clint responds blithely. "I explore. And I read. And I listen." She eyes him with a new expression and he grins, "you can learn a lot when no one knows you're listening."

"I'm sure you can. Continue."

"Okay, so for the next 10 years, they're locked in the battle, like deer fighting with horns, but Coulson always has final say, and as far as Shield goes, he does it by the book. Keeps the records clean and our ops legitimate."

"… but?" Natasha asks, sensing the shift.

"Strike Team doesn't Iike by the book, or keeping their hands clean. And word on the rumor mill was that they crossed a line. Some op gone bloody and Coulson was going to fire not only all Strike Team members but he finally had enough evidence to fire Pierce too."

"What!" Natasha gasps, her eyes widening.

"Exactly." Clint is nodding, "shocking." Then he taps his fingers on the steering wheel. "Except no one knew he was going to do that. And now he's dead."

"But you knew…" Natasha says slowly.

"Yeah." Clint says quietly. "So did Maria Hill."

Natasha's mouth gapes, "the agent killed in the bombing last week?"

Clint's swallows and nods. "She was close to Coulson. She'd been Fury's right hand for years and had happily stood by Coulson's side. I made good friends with her during my first year, and she said she started to smell a rat, telling me what I just told you." He glares at the road, "insurance she called it." He turns to her, "'if I die,' he quotes Hill's words to him before she left, 'keep an eye on Coulson. Pierce is going after him'."

"Why didn't you say anything!"

Clint glares at her, "I'm only one year out of Rookie status!" He waves his hand wildly, "and I didn't even know Coulson was going to be on this recon mission until we were driving to it!" He slams a palm against the wheel. "What the hell was I supposed to do? And…" he takes a deep breath, the radio playing quietly, "I wasn't sure. I didn't know it was for sure until I saw him lying there." He grimaces, "stabbed in the back."

Natasha is quiet for a moment before looking out the window as they head north from DC. "So… now what?"

"Our director gave us orders. We follow them."

"By doing what?"

Clint looks at her curiosity, "you ever been to New York?"

—

They pull up to a large stone gate and press the call button.

How can I help you? A crisp voice asks.

"Uh, we're here to see Howard Stark."

There's a long pause before another voice comes over the speaker, "who is this?"

Clint looks at Natasha, "we're agents." She says slowly, "from Shield."

"Shield." The voice repeats, "who sent you. Coulson or Pierce?"

Clint's voice is a bit rough as he answers, "Coulson."

"Ah, Agent. I'll beep you in."

The gate starts to swing in and they slowly creep forward in the car.

—

A young guy, with wild hair and an intense goatee meets them. "Welcome to Stark Manor."

A man way too young to be Howard Stark. Clint knows his history.

"Hello," Natasha says with a hand held out to shake.

"What can I do you for." The man asks. "You said you're here to see pops?"

Realization clicks. This is Tony Stark, Howard's genius kid.

Clint studies him, maybe not kid. Probably Clint's age.

"Yes." Clint responds, "if he's available."

Tony laughs, "yeah, he's available. But what's this about?"

"Coulson told us to talk to Howard. And only Howard."

Tony rolls his eyes, "ugh. He's still so uptight. Come on."

The house that he leads them through is massive and gleaming and looks so futuristic it could warrant its own Sci-fi novel.

They make their way to a large room where a man stands behind a desk, looking at papers and shuffling things.

"Hey pops." Tony says, "this is Agent 1 and Agent 2. Coulson sent them."

"Coulson's dead." The man says with a snap, "get out."

Tony looks shocked, "what?"

"How—" Clint starts, "how did you know that?"

The man glares at them and then looks at Tony. "Where's your mother?"

"She's dead, dad." The guy says with an eye roll. "We've been over this." He turns to Clint, "you didn't say anything about Phil being dead—"

"Anthony!" Howard says quickly? "Get your mother!"

"She's dead, dad!" Tony snaps back, like this isn't a tragic sentence, like it's something he repeats over and over. Which sounds like maybe he does.

Instead of reacting what Clint would deem normally to the tragic sentence, the older man rubs a hand through his white hair and then over his mustache, "not for long."

"Sorry bout that." Tony says, "memory isn't what it used to be. What's this about Coulson being dead?"

"He was killed." Natasha answers, "he told us to look for Howard Stark."

Tony turns to his father, "you hear that? Phil sent these rookies over."

"We're not rookies." Clint clarifies. "But Coulson did send us. And he told us to give you something. Say it was from him."

This makes the man look up from his desk. "What is it?" Then he turns to Tony, "can you ask JARVIS to make me coffee."

"JARVIS is dead." Tony says simply, then looks at the ceiling, "J?"

Yes, sir. Comes the same crisp voice from the gate.

"Ask the kitchen to get some coffee ready."

Yes, sir.

"We brought—" Natasha starts, before Clint clears his throat and looks at Tony. Natasha huffs, "I think we're going to need both of them." She looks warily at Howard Stark who seems to be shuffling papers at random. "A coin."

Howard Stark reacts like he's been shocked, "a coin? Which coin?"

Clint pulls out the three from his pocket. A Norwegian krone, a Brazilian real and an American penny. He picks up the penny and hands it to Howard.

"Oh…" the man says with a breathless whisper, "oh no." Howard's shaking his head, "no. He won't do it. Whatever you need. He'll be the hardest to convince. Tell Phil to pick one of the others."

And Tony sighs, "Coulson is dead, dad."

"Who?" Natasha asks, "who will be hard to convince?"

Tony looks at his dad, "what does the penny mean, dad?"

"They quit. They were done. Too much pain. Loss. Sorrow. They quit. But Phillips asked for a way. Contact. This was their way. Only I was allowed to keep their locations. And only for the most dire of situations."

"Pierce is trying to overthrow Shield." Clint snaps out, "I think that's pretty fucking dire!"

Tony looks at him with wide eyes, "Pierce is what?"

Howard's voice raises, "I haven't heard from him in decades."

"Who, dad?" Tony asks again, "who?"

"Code name: The Captain." Howard recites, "current location, 2535 Swain Street, Philadelphia, PA." He sits down as if giving that information tired him out. "He won't help you."

Clint frowns, "he has to."

"How did Coulson die?" Tony asks, looking at his dad and back to them, "when?"

"18 hours ago." Natasha answers, "no one was there. Agent Barton believes it was premeditated by Pierce. But Coulson said 'save them'." She shrugs, "we have no idea who 'them' is. He just said to come here. There are obviously pieces in play we don't know about or understand.."

"Thank you for your time." Clint says lightly, "we will be going now."

"Tell him—" Howard Stark says with a sad expression, "tell him I asked how the shield was doing."

"You mean Shield?" Natasha asks.

"No." Howard says, turning and walking towards a door that Clint can see leads to a hallway, "no."

He's gone, and Clint stands there, "um."

Tony looks at his watch, "start from the beginning."

"What?"

"You just dropped the news that someone, most likely that asshat, Pierce, killed my most annoying uncle. Someone has to pay."

And there's something terrifying in the guy's eyes.

So Clint starts at the beginning.