✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠
𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐤𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐨𝐧
━━━━━━━━━▼━━━━━━━━━
Phil Coulson could be a stubborn bastard when it came to recovery.
He was assuredly not as bad as Michael or Clint, who were known for booking it the second they could manage to stay on their feet for more than a couple of seconds. With the right distractions, Coulson could remain on bed rest for a time before he got sneaky.
Reality shows were always a go-to—because, despite popular belief, Phil Coulson was a sucker for the Bachelor—and the promise of a trading card or two could buy his temporary cooperation.
Leave him alone for too long, though, and he'd disappear by the time you came back to check up on him, lost in the throes of endless work that the agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. couldn't seem to function without.
Today, though,Truth managed to catch him in the act.
"What do you think you're doing?"
Coulson nearly dropped all of his files on the floor at her sudden appearance in the doorway to the Med-bay. The doctor had left mere minutes ago, leaving the agent to gather his things and be on his way.
"Dr. McCoy cleared me," he answered, hoping to facilitate a quick escape.
Truth gave him a look.
"Do I look like Dr. McCoy?"
Phil gave a sigh before putting down his items, easing himself down on a cot as Truth made her way over to him.
"What hurts?" she asked, concerned with his movement.
"Just sore," he explained as he pulled off his shoulder sling. "Bruising's all gone though."
Once he lifted the sleeve of his shirt, Truth leaned closer to study the healing wound. It had already scabbed over, but the point of concern was his muscle pain. Anfisa's bullet had gone straight through his flesh, tearing through some muscle according to the conversation Truth had just had with Dr. McCoy regarding it.
Truth moved to grab a pair of gloves, and Coulson gave her a raised brow in response.
"This isn't only for me, you know," she said. "The doc asked if I could do my own evaluation."
Truth worked with Dr. McCoy rather frequently, enough that she saw her as more than just a colleague. Truth had more than enough familiarity with medical care, and her abilities sometimes made things easier for the doctor, such as her capability to feel other's pain, better examine head injuries and mental issues, and also her telekinesis that was proven to be helpful with stitching and quick surgery. Sometimes Dr. McCoy asked for a consult on her patients, and, if she was free, Truth would stop by the Med Bay to help where she could.
As she leaned in closer, carefully prodding around the contorted skin, Phil watched.
"So," he said, "this has nothing to with the fact that you feel guilty?"
Truth didn't show any reaction to his words.
"I don't necessarily feel guilty," she replied smoothly. "More like I want to help you because I made a mistake that resulted in you getting hurt. It also helps that you're a very close friend of mine, and I don't like to see you in pain."
Phil just looked at her.
"So...in other words?"
Truth rolled her eyes.
"Guilt: 'a feeling of having done wrong or failed in an obligation'."
"I don't see how that disproves anything—"
Truth felt the sharp tinge of pain as she pressed around the wound before registering Coulson's flinch.
"Sorry," she muttered, taking note of the area as she continued to prod the skin. Then, with a grin, she glanced up and added, "See? No guilt, but I apologized because I did something that I didn't mean to do."
"So, you don't feel bad at all? Not even after McCoy forced me to eat jello?"
Truth fought back a smile.
"Jello is yummy sometimes."
"Not when you want a burger and fries with a milkshake."
She leaned back to give him a look.
"You were reaching with the milkshake, and you know it."
Coulson shrugged with his bad arm then winced. Truth smirked as she took off her gloves.
"It's healing well. It'll be sore for about a week before you get your full range of motion back, so be careful with the shrugging. No heavy lifting, no combat, practice or otherwise, and I don't want to hear that you've been ditching the sling for any reason. Just try to keep it on most of the time, and maybe you can lose it altogether when you come back."
After getting up to throw away the gloves, she turned to find Coulson still staring at her in expectation. With a dramatic sigh, she fell back into a chair, throwing her head back as her eyes focused on the fixtures in the ceiling.
"Fine. Am I exactly happy with the situation? No. And, I'm trying not to put the blame on anyone, but, honestly, I'm just a little bit pissed at Michael for making a whole scene and distracting me while you were trying to get my attention for who knows how long. Have I talked to him about it? No, because I know it's not like he knew you were in trouble, and he was just upset and he was saying a bunch of stuff that I know he didn't mean, so I have to get over it and I'm trying to do that without punching someone in the face."
"Do you want to punch Michael in the face?" Coulson asked curiously.
Truth frowned and picked at the material of her slacks.
"No. Like I said, I'm not really mad at him because I know it's not his fault."
"So, what are you mad at?"
"Everything. Life. Do you ever just wish Life was a solid so you could just—" she maimed a strangling motion with her hands, her face screwed up in irritation.
"You want to...throttle Life?" Coulson questioned, fighting back a smile.
"Yes! I mean, why does it have to be so shitty? And why is it so difficult? I just feel like I can't...do anything, and—"
Truth stopped herself with a groan, standing upright suddenly as she felt the need to leave.
"I shouldn't even be saying all this. You need to get ready for your mission, and I have phone calls—"
In an attempt to stop her, Coulson reached out, only for Truth to pull back swiftly. He knew what that meant, but he still didn't back down.
"It's not a great time," she warned.
"Yeah, but at least you'll believe what I'm trying to say." He lifted his hand again. "May I?"
Truth gave him a stony look, but otherwise let him grab her arm, her inducement rippling across her skin.
"You're frustrated," he started. "That's normal. We all get that way, especially when we feel overwhelmed and when nothing goes the way you want it to. I know you don't want help, but, in that case, you need to take the time to cut yourself some slack. You can't do everything. Even though you're a lot more capable at generally everything, you're still human and that's okay."
"I'm not human," Truth disagreed. "Maybe I was before, but I wasn't designed to be human."
"You're more human than you are anything else," he assured. "If anything, you're extra-human."
Truth's brows creased.
"...That's not—"
"You know what I mean."
"Right."
"So, don't judge yourself for not being enough, because you are above and beyond. You do more than anyone ever deserves to ask of you, and you do it out of the kindness of your heart. Thank you—for saving me and making sure I'm okay."
Truth simply stared at Phil, fighting back the strength of her emotions.
Everything he said was the truth. She found not a single lie.
"I don't like you," was what she eventually said.
Coulson smiled.
"I thought we were being honest with each other?"
"Shut up."
Then he smirked.
"Do you want a hug?"
"Not really, no."
"Okay. Do you want to take some time off?"
"Also a no."
"Figures. Do you need any help, because I'd be happy to—"
"No," she answered, "but nice try."
"Thanks," he said.
I'm guessing that also means that you won't tell me what happened to Anfisa? he thought.
Truth tilted her head curiously, glancing around as though looking for something.
"Funny. Do you hear something?"
"Ha, ha."
The story of what had happened to Anfisa was lost to everyone who worked the case. Somehow, in the short amount of time that Truth had been with her, she'd managed to make her disappear, almost as if she didn't exist.
Michael prodded. Coulson asked. Her uncle had already accepted the fact that, if Truth Castello did not want the world to know something, very little could manage to persuade her otherwise.
Truth turned to the door, preemptively announcing the appearance of Clint Barton. She raised a brow at the interruption, her instinct to greet him with a playful jab until she remembered that the last time they'd spoken hadn't exactly been pleasant.
"Sorry for interrupting," Clint greeted first. Then he nodded to Coulson. "How's the shoulder?"
As he answered, Coulson moved to put back on the sling to Truth's satisfaction.
"Not so bad. I just had my unofficial official approval for field work, so that's a plus."
"You're lucky she didn't make you take it out for a spin. She had me on bedrest for a week and a half once because I couldn't beat her at Just Dance."
"It wasn't that mean," she argued with a small smile at the memory. "We had fun. Besides, I was at least going to wait until after Serbia before we got to that point."
"Something to look forward to," Coulson commented. Then he turned to Clint. "Give me a moment, and we can get started on the debrief."
"Michael's stuck in traffic, actually, so we'll have to start a bit later," Clint informed. Then he looked at Truth. "I was actually hoping if I could steal Truth for a moment?"
Truth exchanged a quick glance with Coulson, the words good luck lingering in his mind as she left the room with Clint.
They fell in step with each other, Truth letting Clint lead the way through the halls as she waited for him to speak.
"I know what happened," was all that he said. He offered his thoughts to her as an explanation, keeping his eyes facing straight ahead.
"She told you."
"She had to tell me."
Truth raised a brow at him.
"You don't have to defend her. I'm not mad. It's not like I gave her much of a reason or warning not to tell you, and I knew she eventually would."
Clint shook his head.
"That's not what she thinks."
"Well, tell her not to worry about it. It's my fault that I didn't follow up with her."
"That's also not what she thinks you're mad about."
Truth sighed, fighting the urge to roll her eyes.
"I'm not mad at her," she repeated with emphasis. "I'm busy. And, I thought this was supposed to be your opportunity to drill me for information."
Clint scoffed.
"Would you even tell me if I asked?"
"So long as you knew the risk, yes. I'd prefer that you had plausible deniability if anything goes wrong, but I also understand that Natasha is your charge and you want to protect her."
Clint nodded slowly in agreement as he thought.
"It's 'Natasha', now, huh?"
When Truth didn't say anything, he took that as his cue to drop the whole topic. It was more than clear that she did not want to talk about her relationship with Natasha.
"Okay," he said instead. "What's the game plan?"
Was Anfisa here for Natasha? he thought.
"She was here for me," Truth answered aloud.
But, came her transmitted thought, I do think Natasha is involved somehow. Anfisa recognized Natasha, though I don't know if they've ever met. Really, all I have are assumptions, but I'm waiting for some of my contacts to get back to me before I take any action.
Alright. Take Natasha with you when do.
Truth raised a brow.
I'll be in Europe, she said. There will be a lot more people looking for her there than here.
"It's a good thing she'll be with you, then," he replied. "I trust you and, judging by last week, she trusts you too."
Ignoring the well of hope that grew within her at the words, Truth rolled her eyes.
"She told you everything."
"We're partners, remember?"
Also, he added, I think this is something she deserves to at least be aware of, if not involved in. I know you're trying to protect her from people like Pierce, but I can assure you that she'd prefer your honesty over your protection.
Truth sighed. She couldn't argue much with that reasoning. If anything, she'd probably feel the same way if it were HYDRA.
Alright, she agreed. But, it's her choice if she wants to go or not. I'm not forcing her to do anything.
And I wouldn't ask you to, Clint assured.
Out loud, Clint tried another question.
"Do you trust her?"
"I trust her with a lot of things."
Clint knew her well enough to be able to read between the lines.
"But, not with everything."
"And that has nothing to do with her," Truth said, her eyes focused ahead of her. "I just like to prepare myself for the worst."
"You know," Clint said, stopping at a corner to turn towards Truth, putting them face to face. "When she told me everything? She didn't bring up your powers once. If I had to guess, they were probably the last thing on her mind."
Truth held his stare for a moment before she couldn't anymore. Taking it as a sign that the conversation was finished, she made an about-face, leaving Clint standing there, looking after her.
"Give it some time," Truth muttered to herself, "and it'll probably be the first."
✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠ ——— ✠