tarotgal

In which Coulson has another theory...

Title: Assess & Acquire
Author: tarotgal
Fandom: Marvel CMU (Avengers & Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.)
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Pre-Clint/Coulson
Spoilers: For the first Avengers movie and the first episode of Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D.
Warning: Character death. A lot of character death.
Summary: When Clint Barton shows up unannounced on Phil Coulson’s doorstep, Coulson is forced to change his vacation plans. So when a simple mission to assess and acquire an object of unknown origin comes up, he figures there’s no reason he should turn that down. Naturally, things are never as simple as they seem.
Author’s Notes: Written for NaNoWriMo 2014 all in one month (a first for me!). This story is finished but will be posted in pieces. Total word count: 73,274.



Chapter5

Coulson woke to the sound of a buzzer going off. He didn’t open his eyes right away, taking a moment to be grateful that the world had once again reset around him. He was alive. His team was alive. And he was just a little bit closer to figuring this whole situation out. For a moment he wondered if, maybe the reason this day kept repeating was that it was too complex to be solved all at once. Perhaps there was some outside force putting him through these paces, watching as he got it wrong over and over again and laughing at him. If he were in a movie, that would certainly be the case. He’d have to keep doing this over and over and over again until he got it completely right.

But this wasn’t a movie. This was just another chapter in an already strange life. And he still believed the way to get to tomorrow was to figure out what was causing this repeat of todays and stop it. Which meant he could completely dismiss Clint if he wanted. Clint wasn’t part of this, he was just an agent with a head cold.

Except that he wasn’t just an agent with a head cold. He was Clint Barton. And he was in need. And even though it had nothing to do with the 0-8-4 and would take time out of his personal mission, he felt the need to confide in Clint again this time around.

Assuming he made it out of bed eventually.

As the buzzer came again, he dragged himself out from under the covers. On came the bathrobe. On went the slippers. And out came the tissue box. He pressed the intercom button and mouthed along to the words that came through the bronze speaker beside the door, “Agent Coulson, it’s me.”

Coulson realized he was smiling. “Come on up, Agent Barton.” This time, he pulled two tissues out of the box to start with and had them at the ready when he opened the door to his apartment.

Barton almost literally fell face-first into them. “Hahh-Ktshhhhh!”

Clint started to rock back with a breath, then forward again less than a second later with the second sneeze. “Huh huh-KIHtchhh!”

“Bless you,” Coulson said, letting a surprised Clint take the tissues for him.

“Th-thanks.” Clint sniffled and wiped at his nose. “How did you know, Sir?”

“I’m stuck in a time loop. You sneeze like this every morning. Come in, Agent Barton. Let me take care of you again.”

Was Coulson imagining the flush in Clint’s cheeks? He pressed the back of his hand to Clint’s forehead. “Just a bad cold,” Clint mumbled. “I don’t think I’m feverish, but you can check. Sniff! Sniff! I would have called Natasha, but I can’t get in touch with her. She’s on some mission in Bulgaria or something like that. I should… hehhh… hahh-KTShhhhhh!” He caught the sneeze in the tissues he’d taken from Coulson, now already balled-up in his palm and looked over at the box in Coulson’s hand. “You… you really did know, didn’t you? You’re actually in a time loop?”

“I am.” Coulson gestured toward the couch. Clint sat down, and Coulson sat down next to him. “Do you believe me?”

Clint shrugged. “I don’t know yet. I guess it could be possible. What happens today?”

“Different things. Usually I set you up on my couch here and then head to the museum after Agent Hill calls about an 0-8-4.”

“Agent Hill calls?”

Coulson’s cell phone buzzed. He took it out of his pocket and, after a moment’s hesitation, offered it to Clint.

Skeptically, Clint took it, pressed the button to answer, and lifted it to his ear. “Agent Coulson’s phone.”

Coulson listened to Clint’s side of the conversation, knowing what was happening on the other end.

“An object at the museum? He’s supposed to be off this week.”

A pause. Clint looked at Coulson, eyes narrowing. “I’ll tell him. He’ll call you back.” When he hung up, he set the phone down on the couch between them. “An 0-8-4 at the museum.” He reached over and pulled a tissue out of the tissue box in Coulson’s lap. “Heh… heh-Kurshhhh! Sniff! This isn’t an elaborate joke, is it?”

“Not one of my making.” He took his phone back from Clint. “Do I call her back and tell her I am on the case?”

Clint helped himself to another tissue. “Only if I get to come with you.”

Coulson hadn’t been expecting that. “Clint, you’re sick. You came here because you didn’t feel well.”

“That’s not the only reason I came here, but if you’re really in a time loop, I am sure you know that.” Clint sniffled and rubbed the tissue at his nose. “I’ll wait for you to get dressed. Then we can head over to the museum.”

“I’m sorry, who’s the senior agent here? You’re sick, Clint. Wouldn’t you be more comfortable staying here? You usually nap here while I’m out, then I bring you back some cold medicine, because you’ve run out.”

“I have run out.” Clint gave a laugh. “What a day to be stuck in a time loop!”

Coulson smiled. “You’re the one with the cold, not me.” He got up and head to the bedroom to change. “All I do each day is die.”

“What?” Clint called from down the hallway, probably to make sure he had heard properly. Coulson just chuckled. Though he knew Clint should stay put and relax, he wasn’t opposed to the idea of getting the agent’s feedback on this case. Clint was far more observant than any S.H.I.E.L.D. agent he’d ever worked with before; that was one of the pleasures of being the man’s handler. Maybe that was even one of the reason he had agreed to the op on the docks that first day. Working with Clint wasn’t like working with anyone else. There was an intensity, a passion. Even when things were strange or went wrong, Clint took it in stride. And Clint had certainly seen a lot of strange and wrong. Maybe he’d catch something no one else had so far. He’d managed to catch a cold, after all.

Coulson called Hill back and told her he and Agent Barton were about to head over to the museum to check out the suspicious object. He put on his usual shirt, suit, and tie, slipping a few handkerchiefs into his pocket as well, just in case. It seemed likely Clint would need them, especially when Coulson returned to the living room. Clint was curled on his side, shoes on the couch, used tissues accumulating on the floor already. “HehShhhh! Heh… heh-Ketchhh! H’Chshhhh!” He looked up at Coulson for a second before his eyes shut, features drew together, nose wrinkled, nostrils flared. “Hehh… hehhKETShhhh! H’Shuhhh!” His large nose filled the tissue when he rubbed then blew his nose.

“You don’t have to do this. You can stay here and mess up my apartment some more.”

With a slight groan, Clint pushed off from the cushions and got to his feet. “I’m… I… I… ihhh-Chuhhhh! hihKushhhhh!” Clint’s running, twitching nose disappeared behind a whole handful of tissues. His eyes squinted shut as he blew his nose hard repeatedly. Then he grabbed the tissue box and cleared his throat. “I’m right behind you, Sir.”

It was impossible to miss that fact. Clint didn’t stop sneezing the entire way to the museum. Coulson took hold of his arm, keeping him going when they crossed the street and a particularly strong bout of sneezes just happened to hit when the light changed. Knowing that telling Clint he didn’t have to come along was pointless now, Coulson merely waited patiently for the sneezing to subside. He pulled Clint over to the side of the museum building, shielding the man from oncoming onlookers on the sidewalk by standing close in front of him.

“HihhShuh! hehKetchhh! Huh-hehh… heh-ktchihhh! huhhh... huh-HUH—” He froze in place, tissue pressed against his nostrils. They both waited, expecting a strong sneeze that never came. Clint snuffled then rubbed his nose against the back of his gloved hand. “Excuse me.” He smiled sheepishly, as if that were a joke.

Coulson smiled back. “Ready to see what’s been driving me crazy for the past four days?”

Clint nodded and followed behind again. Coulson walked through the busy museum, snaking around groups, slipping between people wandering around with museum maps in front of their faces. He kept glancing over his shoulder, not wanting to lose Clint. Halfway across the large entrance hall, he felt Clint’s hand on his shoulder. Then he felt the man pressed against his back. He wasn’t going to lose Clint now.

“Oof!” Coulson looked down to see the little girl pulling back from having collided with him. She looked shocked as she pulled away then ran past him to catch up with her father.

“Sir?”

Coulson watched her go.

“Sir, is there something wrong?”

Coulson took a breath. “There’s a lot wrong, Agent. Come on.”

Coulson showed his ID and got them both past the security guard into the authorized personnel only section. He led Clint down the hall to the familiar research lab. The hallways were busy, but not crowded enough for Clint to have to walk as close as before. Yet Clint stayed pressed up to Coulson’s back, so close that Coulson could hear him sniffling. Clint shouldn’t have come. He should have been back at the apartment, tucked under blankets. At this rate, Clint would never get better.

When they got to the lab, Clint broke off, attracted at once to the object. It was no surprise. Coulson had seen this three times already, and each time the sight of the large metal object with its rounded top, its teal and purple energy threads, and its shiny silver surface was hard to look away from. Coulson stuck his hand out to the head researcher. “Dr. Daniels, I’m Agent Coulson, here to take possession of this object.”

“Possession? Good luck with that. This energy is unlike anything I’ve ever seen before. I recommend no one get any closer to the object. It could be dangerous. This device is a complete mystery to us so it has the potential to do an unmeasurable amount of damage.” Dr. Daniels kept glancing from the object to Coulson and back again as he talked, nervous and unsure.

Clint looked hesitant as well. “Sir, maybe you should just let it alone and see what happens?”

“The last time I did that, the entire city exploded.”

Clint took a step forward, taking a closer look at the 0-8-4. “I think I’ve seen something like this before, Sir.” The strands of energy surged, dancing as if excited.

“Really? Where?”

“During the Battle of New York.”

Dr. Daniels nodded emphatically. “Yes, that makes sense. The object was recovered from wreckage after that battle.”

S.H.I.E.L.D. agents had been on the scene after the battle almost immediately. So much alien tech as well as alien bodies themselves had come through that portal; they couldn’t take a chance of any of it ending up in the hands of civilians who could get hurt or—worse—misuse it. With all the giant alien beast corpses, the alien weaponry, and the alien ships, of course something this small might go on the end of the priority list, especially if it wasn’t active. Someone could have just mistaken it for a giant thermos.

“What did you see it doing during the battle?”

Clint shook his head. “I don’t remember it exactly, but the colors of this… this energy…” He lifted his hand to his nose and pinched his nose between his thumb and forefinger. “H’nghtt!” he stifled his sneeze, then let out a loud breath afterward. “It just looks familiar. I remember seeing these zipping… through the… the sky d-dur… during the… the bah…. bat.. Battle.” Finally, he turned, eyes snapping closed. “H’ngftt! Huhhhhhhhhhhhhh.”

Clint’s restrained sneezes were so loud Coulson wondered why he even bothered trying. Maybe he would try to remember to tell this to Clint the next time they were alone.

For now, though, Coulson just waited out the the sneezes. “Huh… huh-K’ngxxxt! Hurhhhhhhhh!” Clint stumbled forward, and the energy grew noticeably by inches. It couldn’t be a coincidence.

“Clint, step back.” When the agent did, the arcs of the strands decreased in size. “Now move closer again.” Back the energy came, increasing in size as well as intensity. It was reacting to Clint in the opposite way it reacted to Coulson. Fitz-Simmons had said there were small energy readings whenever Coulson got near, but there hadn’t been any of this visual display. He wondered what their instruments would be reading now with Clint so close. And he wondered what would happen if Clint were to touch the device. “Try picking it up.”

An uproar among the researchers suggested quite strenuously that this was a terrible idea. Even Clint looked wary for a moment. But then he locked eyes with Coulson and saw something there. Coulson knew Clint wasn’t about to refuse a direct order but, more than that, he trusted Coulson in a way he didn’t trust many. That was one reason he’d shown up at the man’s apartment, in need of some care when he didn’t feel so good. And now Coulson was asking him to test a theory that could put him in harm’s way or even end his life if the day didn’t reset. How much did he actually believe the story about the time loop? How strongly did he believe in Coulson?

Clint reached out. The moment his fingertips brushed against the smooth metal curve of the object, the laboratory exploded.