Negative Space
Author: Frost on Maples
Author's Notes: I don't own the Avengers, Marvel/Disney do. Seriously.
One thing I want to make very clear - I love Agent Coulson, and cannot wait to see him resurrected.
This story is intended as a standalone, but is loosely connected with my other Avengers stories - this one falls between Partners and Serenade, with all of them leading into Lessons. It isn't essential to read the others.
Many thanks to bunch at the Beta Branch, both for the much-needed editing and encouragement. Any mistakes are solely mine.
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Bruce Banner hadn't known Agent Coulson.
He had met the man after his arrival on the SHIELD helicarrier with Captain America. They had shaken hands, exchanged pleasantries and that had been about the extent of their relationship. Shortly after he had come on board he had lost himself in the decadent SHIELD labs, especially after Stark's arrival. Then the incident with Loki happened, and Coulson was gone.
It was obvious that the man was important to many people, but nobody said anything. Any time the opportunity came up for him to ask questions, the topic was deflected - a considerable feat considering the number of people who knew the man. A date had been set for a memorial service, but nothing was discussed about the matter.
During the weeks after the defeat of the Chitauri, Bruce immersed himself in the luxury of the labs in Stark Tower. It felt good to work in a lab again, and it allowed him to avoid most people. Days flew by in a whirl of data, until the outer world finally intruded.
An urgent summons for the members of the Avengers arrived from Assistant Director Hill. There was a subtle awkwardness to it, especially when she apologized for the timing of the summons - it was very likely they would miss the memorial service. Bruce mentally shrugged, but felt badly for the other members of the unusual team he found himself part of.
An alert on his experiment chimed. He checked the time - he had twenty minutes before the quinjet was scheduled to arrive, just enough time to quickly scan the nanite reactions...
XXXXXXXXXX
Bruce's mind was swarming with questions about possible control mechanisms for nanites as he stalked towards Tony's office. The door was open as he approached it, and out of courtesy he paused unseen outside when he heard voices.
"OK, last item before you run off into the wild blue yonder with your friends."
Tony turned to Pepper with an impatient sigh. "Fine. What other bureaucratic nonsense is there -" he paused at her glare and visibly reworded his sentence, "- that is beyond your goddess-level abilities that I need to deal with to remain in your favor?"
"Blatant flattery now will get you a cookie later," Pepper smiled indulgently as she glanced down at her file. "Karl Masters is retiring as our SHIELD contract supervisor. His chosen successor has worked for us for ten years, and specifically with Karl as his assistant for the past five. I have no objections to the appointment, and our contacts at SHIELD already know him. SHIELD bureaucracy, however, is asking for both of us to sign off on our approval letter, so, you know, that means I need you to sign one more piece of paper tonight."
"As a responsible company owner, I feel I should ask a few questions," Tony said teasingly, looking into her eyes. "You said he has worked for us for ten years?"
"Yes, Mr. Stark," she replied, playing along.
"What is this highly qualified gentleman's name?"
She glanced down at her file. "Phil Carson."
"Is he married, have children, taken too many sick days?"
"No, no and no. He hasn't taken a single sick day since he started."
"Have I ever met him?"
"I don't believe so. You usually skipped those meetings."
"Does he drink?"
"I have no idea. I believe if it doesn't interfere with the job, it's none of our business."
"If he's taking over SHIELD contract supervision, he's going to need to drink. Tell you what, let's send him a nice bottle of scotch, with a note saying "Congratulations to Phil Coulson on being our new SHIELD contract wrangler."
A stricken look flashed across Pepper's face. Tony's eyes widened as he realized his slip of the tongue. His mouth fell open, but there were no glib comments - he stared wordlessly at her with naked emotion in his eyes.
Pepper looked into his face, and with three brisk strides stepped up to wrap him in an embrace.
Bruce quietly left. The nanites could wait.
XXXXXXXXXX
The flight to the helicarrier was smooth and professional. Tony and Thor were flying themselves to the helicarrier, and Agents Romanoff and Barton were already aboard, so it was just Bruce and Steve Rogers being ferried up by quinjet.
Bruce thought that he had succeeded in making small-talk with Captain America until the helicarrier came in sight. Conversation ground to a stop as Rogers stared at the massive ship, still flying despite the massive wounds that were being repaired even as they watched.
"I still have a hard time believing that something so massive can fly," the war hero mused.
"It is pretty impressive," Bruce agreed.
"When an organization has the technology for a ship like that, I wonder why they think they want me around. It seems impossible for an old-fashioned guy like me to catch up to the modern world." A wistful sadness crossed Rogers' face.
"Technology doesn't have an answer for everything. There are times when people need a little old-fashioned," Bruce said reassuringly.
Rogers winced. He turned to the window to stare blindly at the modern world, shutting down the conversation.
The rest of the trip was silent.
XXXXXXXXXX
The command deck was like a chaotic ballet.
Bruce had arrived a few minutes early for the briefing, only to discover that it had been delayed. Fury had been abruptly summoned to a meeting, and Tony and Thor hadn't arrived yet. The labs were still out of commission, and he didn't feel comfortable joining Rogers in the gym, leaving him the options of either waiting or wandering. He chose to wait, watching with fascination as SHIELD's best did their thing.
It took several minutes before he detected the patterns and rhythms. Everything revolved around Maria Hill as she stood by the monitors usually watched by Fury. Queries, orders and reports bounced around between agents, but all the threads eventually lead to Hill.
A young blond agent overseeing the technicians was often the last step before information reached Hill - he paced back and forth as they worked, keen eyes watching the monitors. He regularly reported to her, quietly answering her questions and occasionally directing specific queries to the correct technician. Only the restless twitching of his fingers revealed the uneasiness of inexperience: Bruce would have missed it altogether but for his years of practice at reading stoic law enforcement officials.
Fury's face appeared on the monitor in front of Hill - Bruce could vaguely discern dim figures behind him, and credited their presence for her snapping to attention. "Yes, Director Fury?" she asked, all regulations and formality. Behind her, the young agent (Quartermain, Bruce finally remembered) hovered uncertainly as his superiors spoke, blocking Bruce's view.
There was enough ambient noise that he couldn't hear the conversation - not that he intended to eavesdrop, but he was curious about anything that could summarily disrupt the plans of a force such as Fury. The conversation was brief, and Bruce caught a general tone of disapproval. Quartermain shifted uncomfortably and suddenly Bruce could see again.
"Yes Sir. Will comply." Hill didn't quite salute, but her manner was stiff and formal. She was nervous, Bruce suddenly realized - not quite frightened, but definitely on edge from the news. She stepped forward and studied the monitors intently as she tapped at the screens. Her hand swung up to tap her earpiece as she worked and her mouth opened... to suddenly snap shut. Her hand jerked away from her earpiece like it had suddenly burned her. With a sudden jerky motion she turned to Quartermain. "Agent Quartermain, I need you to meet Thor on the flight deck. Tell him that the meeting has been delayed, and stay with him so we can contact him as soon as Director Fury is back." She stepped closer, lowering her voice. "These people were used to... someone else. I can't leave to do it myself. I need you to do your best."
Quartermain's face was calmly resigned, but his fingers twitched. "Yes sir."
Bruce stepped forward impulsively. "I'll go with him." He shrugged as they both stared at him. "I haven't seen Thor since he took Loki back. It'll be good to see him."
Hill nodded her gratitude as he matched his strides to Quartermain's. A ghost dogged their steps.
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"Greetings, Dr. Banner," Thor called out as he landed. He extended his hand. "It's good to see you again."
Bruce stepped forward to shake his hand. "Good to see you too." He gestured to Quartermain. "Agent Quartermain has been sent to escort us to the meeting." He tactfully didn't mention he had already been aboard for almost an hour. The Asgardian nodded politely and shook the agent's hand.
"Gentlemen, if you would follow me please?" Quartermain started to lead them back the way he and Bruce came, only to be intercepted by a member of the deck crew.
"We have an incoming flight," the man said. "I need you to clear the deck by the nearest exit." He gestured back over their shoulders at another hatch.
"Sorry, gentlemen," Quartermain shrugged. "Looks like we'll have to take the long way." As they left the deck he warned them, "We might have to take a few detours. There's still a lot of repair work underway."
It was immediately clear he was right - railings were missing from the walkways and they skirted around a shower of sparks from welders fixing a large hole in the wall. Quartermain obviously knew his way well, but was forced to improvise as first one route, then another were blocked by either workmen or gaping damage. After the first few detours, Bruce was hopelessly lost, and followed blindly.
They were halted again about ten minutes later. "Sorry guys," another grimy workman shrugged. "All the walkways in this sector are being replaced. You'll have to go around."
Quartermain sighed in exasperation as he paused in thought. "I'll try one more time, and if we can't get through we'll go back to the flight deck."
At first, Bruce thought they would end up turning back. Scorch marks blackened the walls, and wires dangled from the ceiling. Nobody stopped them, however, and they seemed to make progress until...
Bruce stopped suddenly as they entered the large room. He felt a chill in his bones, and the Other Guy twitched as he took in the large empty space over top of a pit going down twenty feet to a large, closed, iris-style hatch. This was where the cage had been. This was where they had planned to try to contain him. He was aware of Quartermain's gasp of dismay, and waved off his attempt at an apology.
He took a deep breath - calm, stay calm - and took a step forward into the room. The Other Guy twitched again - there is no cage here, they can't pen you up - but Bruce felt nothing else from him but satisfaction at the damage.
Bruce and Quartermain were halfway across the room when they realized that Thor wasn't with them. They turned to see the Asgardian staring at a patch of deck, near the catwalk leading to where the cage had been.
"Thor?" Bruce asked hesitantly.
The thunder god didn't reply, obviously deep in thought. He knelt, hesitantly reaching out to touch the deck. Bruce noticed that it was unusually clean for an area under repair - a chill ran up his spine as he suddenly realized the significance of the site. He watched, at a loss for words, as his teammate looked up at a large, ragged hole still in the wall, sorrow and guilt flicking across his face.
Bruce tried again. "Thor?"
Thor rose to his feet, the bleak expression making his face a foreign mask. "Please excuse the delay, Doctor Banner, Agent Quartermain. Lead on." He gestured with regal courtesy for the blond agent to lead the way.
Bruce remained silent as he walked beside Thor, unsure if anything could lighten the Asgardian's gloom. He looked back at the clean spot - it was sterile and bare, gleaming coldly in the dismal light. He shivered and lengthened his stride to keep up to Thor. The Asgardian didn't look back.
XXXXXXXXXX
"That's pretty much all we know." Nick Fury glowered at them as he finished with the summary. Bruce had no idea if it was his everyday glower, or it something had happened to piss him off. He suspected the latter, but, frankly, had a hard time telling the difference based on previous encounters. Maria Hill was silent at his side, obviously listening to operations chatter while observing.
Fortunately, his table mates weren't intimidated. Thor and Rogers were asking questions, pointing at various things in the video shot by the SHIELD scientists who had been investigating the anomalous readings, while Tony appeared totally disinterested, tapping at his phone. Agents Romanoff and Barton arrived late, earning an extra scowl from Fury. They coolly sauntered to their seats, blinking innocently as they sat and watched silently.
"Dr. Selvig thinks it might be an interdimensional portal, but since it emits energy of a different wavelength than the Tesseract, he doesn't think it's our Chitauri friends trying to make a return visit." He paused grimly. "The video feed we got from our people at the scene showed creatures that look a lot different from our old friends, and before we lost the feed, it showed us that these toothy ET's bleed blue goo."
"Are there any signs of more portals appearing, or is it just the one?" Rogers asked, leaning forward.
Bruce almost missed it. Fury paused, and his head started to turn towards the empty space by his left shoulder.
Maria Hill stepped forward smoothly from Fury's other side to field questions from Rogers and the others. Only Bruce noticed the director's lips thin briefly on his expressionless face.
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Despite his protests that he wasn't 'that type of doctor', Hill had asked Bruce to stand in as team medic. A temporary matter, she assured him - plans were being made to correct the situation, but for now, he needed to collect a portable medkit from the quartermaster. There was one in the quinjet, but protocol dictated that it stay with the quinjet.
He followed Romanoff and Barton - both of the agents needed replacement gear, and he trusted their familiarity with the helicarrier's labrynth of passageways more than his ability to follow directions that included 'left at exolingustics, right at weapons maintenance, and down the ladder at the port head.'
Hill had obviously called down in advance - a medkit was already waiting for him to sign it out. Out of habit, he checked the contents - as he flipped through it, the quartermaster brought out the items Barton and Romanoff had requisitioned.
Even to his inexperienced eye, the laser rangefinder looked worn and battered. It rolled slightly on the counter, and Bruce caught a quick glimpse of a name stencilled on the side - Meier. Barton's hand froze, and his neutral agent mask slammed into place.
"You pulled one from the disposal bin by mistake, Gregson." Romanoff snatched up the rangefinder. "All the stuff for this mission is supposed to be new." Her expression didn't change, but whatever the agent saw in her eyes made him blanch. Wordlessly, he spun back to the stores for a new one.
"Nat," Barton protested. She glared at him, clearly daring him to continue. He glared back, and Bruce got the impression of an entire argument without words.
Gregson's return with a new laser rangefinder broke the staring match. She picked it up, gesturing to Barton to sign for it as she eyed the sweating quartermaster. Quietly, she commented, "Be glad he isn't here to talk to you about this."
Bruce thought the man was going to faint.
"We still have to go to the weapons locker, Doctor Banner," she said mildly. She could have been talking about the weather, instead of making a grown man all but wet himself. "Are you okay with that, or do you wish to go on ahead?"
"With all the work being done around here, I'd probably be lost for the rest of the day," he admitted ruefully. "I'll tag along."
She shrugged and led the way.
The weapons locker was similar to the stores, except for an armed guard and more obvious surveillance. The officer in charge saw them and pulled out two large trunks labelled with the agents' names. Bruce was slightly boggled at the amount of weapons that came out to disappear into various holsters, unseen pockets, sleeves and boot tops. The rest went into their go bags.
Barton pulled out a long case Bruce was sure held a rifle, then he and Romanoff signed the paperwork presented to them. The weapons officer looked awkward as he held the signed sheets. "Who signs off as senior agent for this?" He indicated some blank spaces.
Barton looked away, checking one of his holsters, but not before Bruce saw a haunted grimace cross his face.
"Contact Agent Hill. She's the senior for now." Romanoff was coolly bland.
They had turned to walk away when the weapons officer called after them, "Barton, your bow is still here."
Barton's face was cold and uninviting. "Don't need it."
Bruce saw Romanoff eye the other agent questioningly, but she said nothing.
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They were the last to board the quinjet. Barton led the way, getting ready to pilot the jet. Romanoff paused at the foot of the ramp, hand to her earpiece, presumably listening to last minute details from either Hill or Fury.
A technician ran over to intercept Bruce with two small cases in his hands. He held one out to Bruce. "Dr. Banner, R&D sent this down. They have an earpiece for you - they think it'll survive if you, ah, change." Bruce raised his eyebrows at that - it seemed very unlikely, but it was worth a try.
The man looked over to Agent Romanoff, still in the midst of her conversation via earpiece. He hesitated, case in hand, visibly reluctant to interrupt her.
"I'll give it to her," Bruce offered. "I'm going with her anyways," he shrugged. The tech hesitated, visibly torn, then handed it over and left quickly, his relief palpable. Bruce watched him scurry away, then turned his attention to the first case in his hands. The earpiece inside didn't look very different than the standard ones, but the texture when he touched it was...unusual. He shrugged again and tucked it into a pocket - like much of his life, to be dealt with it when needed.
He thoughtfully hefted the other case and turned back to the quinjet. Romanoff had finished her call - she sighed and shrugged, obviously frustrated. Deep in thought, she started to walk up the ramp.
"Hey," he called, briskly stepping up behind her.
She looked back over her shoulder, and for one brief second, Bruce saw a slight, fond smile on her face. The smile vanished with a painful flinch before Agent Romanoff snapped into place. "Yes, Doctor Banner?"
"Guy over there," he waved vaguely, "brought this for you." He handed her the case.
"Thank-you." She tucked it into her bag as she walked with him up the ramp. "You better strap in, Dr. Banner."
XXXXXXXXXXXXXXX
The quinjet interior was starkly functional - Bruce figured his seat was more comfortable than a pair of planks, but not by much. He squirmed, trying to get comfortable as the rest of the team listened to Rogers and Thor debate strategy with Tony.
Feeling woefully out of his depth, he decided to try to meditate. A sense of unbalance had plagued him since the summons for this mission - not a good starting point. With a deep breath, he tuned out the voices: as he turned his gaze to the empty seat behind Barton, a moment of clarity struck him, illuminating the missing part of the whole.
Pepper embracing a mute Tony...
Roger's sudden darkness, so foreign to his candid demeanor...
Hill flinching from her earpiece after starting to call someone...
Thor, kneeling on a walkway, sorrow and guilt on his face...
Fury, starting to turn to the empty space at his left shoulder...
Barton, turning away to check his pistols with a grimace, refusing his trademark bow...
Romanoff, a slight smile vanishing behind her Agent Romanoff mask.
Bruce Banner hadn't known Agent Coulson.
He missed him too.