He did it even though he was still far from recovered physically from his ordeal back in Vermont, and by the time he had most of the things they’d want immediate use of in place, he was tired and sore all over. When he tried to pick up Karen’s table lamp to put by the bed, his arms were reluctant to lift it, even though it didn’t weigh all that much. In the end he decided she could take it out. She might not even bother using it yet anyway.
It was a good thing he’d made the bed up first. He was able to take off his shirt and just spread himself out, the microfiber blanket soothing against his back. This late and the noises of the base were dying down, and the air was wonderfully cool. He was pretty sure within a minute or so he was going to fall asleep.
Sure enough, he woke sometime later to the sound of the door opening and Karen’s uncertain, “Matt?” following by the sound of her fumbling along the wall before finding and flicking the light switch. Up above, a lightbulb fritzed on, a very faint buzz not too hard to tune out. He didn’t think the light was that strong; it didn’t put forth too much heat.
But of course it was enough for Karen to see everything he’d put in place, and he himself stirring slightly on top of the bed. She sat down next to him, and asked, “How are you feeling?”
“Like I got hit by that thing back in Taiwan again. The one with the fish smell. Still…” He took a moment to assess. “I think I’m better than I was when I fell asleep.”
“That’s good,” she said, her hands wandering over the blankets near his skin, but still not touching. She breathed in and out. Then she said, “Skye’s going to try to erase Karina Silver from the net first. She may not be able to do it for good, and it’s impossible for us to destroy every copy of every video in existence. But she can make them very rare and not worth it for most viewers.”
Matt had to be glad for that. But he knew what else she was saying. Still he asked, “And…Karen Page?”
Her hands continued to fidget, as she said, “I told them I didn’t want to leave the world forever. Skye told me none of us necessarily will, that everything she erases that she might need to restore later she keeps multiple backup copies of.”
“But you’re still leaving it now.”
“Yes,” she said. “I’m sorry,” she added, and she meant it too much.
“You don’t have to apologize to me,” said Matt. “Never to me. Never to anyone, for doing what you want with your life. But Karen, I have to ask, is this that? Or is it just what you feel you should do?”
“I know it may not seem like it, after some of the things I said while we were in Burlington,” she said. “But while we were back in the apartment, and Agent Triplett was taking care of you, packing up our things while we waited to leave, I finally felt safe, and contented, and home. And thinking about it, I think half of my fears vanished the moment I saw Coulson. Skye said to me, you know, that S.H.I.E.L.D.’s the only home she’s ever known. She was recruited from their opposition, too.”
“You shouldn’t feel like you have to stay somewhere, just because of that,” said Matt. “You can always make yourself another home. One where you’ll be happy.”
“I don’t know that I won’t be here. I was, in the old S.H.I.E.L.D., I really was. Besides…” The heat from her body, as she hovered over him, made him wish she’d touch him, but he wasn’t going to ask right now. “I’m pretty sure, if I left with you now, the home I’d make would be you. I’d invest myself entirely in one man again. I’m not ready to do that. Not even with you.”
She needed something else, some new purpose in life. Not him, not some new noble mission, not some large enemy. But neither of them even knew how to root out such purposes. He’d never had to look for his; he’d kept it safe inside him since he was a child, there for when the time was right. She’d never been taught to think such purposes appropriate for her, that she would probably just go along with what her husband wanted, really, and her main thing would probably be having kids.
“Coulson has suggested I be appointed your supervisor,” she said. “That wouldn't do normally, of course, but we're pretty short-staffed here. I’ll want to come see you anyway; if he doesn’t realize that already, I’ll make it clear to him. Maybe it won’t be all that different from before. There were long periods of time we didn’t see each other then.”
If they were lucky, maybe. But that had been fine, back then. That had been when he hadn’t spent months being constantly by her side day and night. When he hadn’t followed her to Burlington without hesitation, and been pretty sure she would follow him to New York City when they were done there. When he hadn’t continually pictured a future with her, much as he’d tried to remind himself it wasn’t for certain.
Her skin had been centimeters from his long enough for it actually to be startling when she lowered her hand, and it pressed against his bare chest. “You…” she started. “You’ll always be…” She was struggling, even her breathing uncertain.
When she finally gave up and kissed him, he kissed back with an enthusiasm that probably startled her. But she just kept going, pressing hard kisses to his jawline, his chin, down his neck and all around his torso. Each press of her lips set Matt more and more on fire.
He reached up and his hands scrambled against her shirt; she drew away just long enough to pull it off, and then get her bra off too. He touched all over her chest, trying to memorize the feeling of her breasts in his hands, the rush of heated blood and breath that told of her desire and excitement, even before he caught the first scent of her arousal.
Her hands were wrapped in his hair, then they were traveling down his body, then they were palming his crotch, then they were trying to get his fly open. Matt moved his own hands down, then both of them were working on it, and a minute later they were both kicking off pants and underwear together. Matt’s feet had been bare already; he heard Karen yank even her socks off.
Skin to skin completely, and unable to stop touching each other, but Karen was cautious in how she moved, clearly trying not to put her weight on him. “It’s okay,” he hissed between kisses. “You’ve handled me when I’ve been in some pretty bad states.”
“I know, but…” She was probably feeling differently about him, too. More afraid, likely, along with that. She’d always been more scared than him, even if she’d typically pushed herself past that.
And he’d always been better with words than her. “I’ll always be here for you, Karen, when you need me. You’ll always be welcome on my doorstep, no matter what. And right now, I want to feel you, in…in every way, Karen. Please…” He was honestly shocked by the desperation in his voice, how it was coursing through him.
Karen kissed him again then, long and deep, and finally, though still tentatively, started to climb on top of him. The weight and warmth of her body alone left him nearly overwhelmed.
When she lowered herself onto him, her low groan of pleasure and want making every air molecule in the small room vibrate, the tears started, hot trickles running down his face. They happened for him during sex, sometimes, and Karen had seen them plenty of times before. Now she kissed the tracks of them, cupping his face with one hand as the other still roamed his body, touching all the places the rest of her wasn’t pressed to already, even as she started to move in earnest.
He was able to move with her without thinking, his own hands on her breasts, her back, reaching up to stroke her hair and down to cradle her hip as he thrust into her harder. She was picking up speed herself, nudging him with her legs to get the angle she wanted, and he happily gave that to her, both their moans getting louder as she got hotter and tighter inside, so raw and wet, and this, Matt knew, was one feeling he might not get again, so he tried to concentrate on it. But it was all too much, everywhere they were touching. Even more as she fell on top of him, hot skin on hot skin everywhere, and he came with her mouth swallowing his cry of release.
“Matt, Matt,” was all she could get out as they both fumbled a hand for her clit. When hers got there first, he instead pulled her a little forward, tilting his head towards where he could hear her breasts sway. She moved the rest of the way, gasping his name again as he closed his mouth over a nipple and worked his tongue fervently, even as her sweet flesh quivered and spasmed around his softening dick. It was too much; he pulled away from her breast with a whimper as fresh tears sprung from his eyes. She was still gasping his name, “Matt, oh, Matt,” as she moved to kiss him again, and then again, arms moving around him and hands clutching as if she never wanted to let go.
They stayed like that for several minutes. Matt was often done for post-coitus, needing time to recover, but this time he felt shattered in a new way, one he knew he would continue to feel after the rest of this faded. Karen was in no better condition than he, crumpled on top of him, and he could smell that somewhere in there, she too had shed a few tears.
When she at last pulled herself up and off, Matt got himself to say, “I’m going to miss you so much every day, Karen.”
“And I’m going to miss you,” she said. “You’ll have to keep emailing me, telling me everything. I’ll tell you as much as I can, of course.”
Matt had thought as much, that they would probably be writing to each other more than Coulson would like, and wouldn’t really care. In fact, if she got scolded for it, he might just come back here to have a word with him over that. There was much he would forgive his old mentor for, up to and including letting him believe he was dead for two years. But there were things about Karen, and about what she did with herself, that nobody touched.
“Water here’s rationed,” she said, maybe just as a way of pulling herself together. “Can’t have the local utilities trying to figure out the cause of a higher amount of consumption in a place then the known structures there would explain. I can probably manage two towels no problem, though.”
Her steps were unsteady all the way to the bathroom, though they were better by the time she came back. By which time Matt wished he didn’t have to wipe off; he’d have been happy to remain coated in her sweat, among other fluids, for the rest of his life.
Still, when Karen was sent off for her first mission the day before his own departure, he was glad it was Coulson coming with him to the city. The two of them had at that point managed only two conversations lasting longer than a couple of minutes: the basic explanations for everything right after he’d crashed the Goldsmith’s gathering, and the one in his office. He wasn’t sure how much more they had to say, but he felt there had to be at least a few things else.
They’d managed to find a pretty good apartment for Matt right in Hell’s Kitchen, one where the rent had ended up getting reduced because of an advertising billboard that could easily drive a sighted person crazy at night, but obviously was no problem for him. What drove Matt crazy instead was how completely different the neighborhood was, while still having returned to what it was when he’d been young. It had gentrified almost immediately after he’d left, and then had had the process reversed in the aftermath of nearly being razed to the ground. So he got all the disorientation of nothing being where he remembered it being, plus all those old childhood memories about overhearing ugly and sometimes scary conversations brought roaring back.
Now that he was where his siblings had already thought he was and where he was planning to stay for as long as he could, and his mother had even exchanged emails with Coulson (apparently he’d even asked her if she’d be open to taking in someone’s son in the future, but given no more details yet), she and Karen had chosen and purchased much of his apartment furniture, though he wasn’t getting a couch until he could check out its texture in person. They’d even somehow arranged for everything to be delivered and taken up into the apartment before the two men arrived, so all they had to do was move it into place.
Although even doing that was enough for Matt to notice that Coulson seemed to go off balance again more than once, and his left hand was definitely shaking hard by the time they let go of the coffee table. Then he started talking about getting groceries, which Matt knew wasn’t a lie, but his heartbeat was still off, and Matt found himself fearing the possible consequences if he let him go alone.
So he said, “Coulson, I won’t ask, and you should know I won’t tell either. Not even Karen. I tell her my secrets, not other people’s. If you need any kind of help from me…”
“There’s none you can give right now,” Coulson sighed, and Matt’s concern ratcheted way up. He had never heard him sound like this, like he was worn down, and dangerously close to giving up a fight.
Then he went over to Matt’s new breakfast bar and sat down too heavy on one of the stools. There was just enough metal on their undersides for Matt to smell and more easily keep track of where they were; he heard it creak. “I know I’m supposed to say that I’m sorry,” he said.
“But you’re not,” said Matt. “I’d know you weren’t even without listening to your heartbeat. And I know I’m supposed to be angry.”
“But you’re not either.” Which he’d probably realized by then, but he still sounded a little surprised.
“I know who you are, Coulson,” Matt said, and went to sit down next to him. “I knew when I was ten. If you’d sought me out to tell me you’re alive, when that was clearly restricted information, I would’ve worried you were an alien impersonator.” He’d heard a vague story about Coulson being impersonated by an alien once, though it was one of those tales told around S.H.I.E.L.D. that not everyone believed. “Although I am wondering if you ever would have told me?”
“Possibly, if there was some reason for you to know. A lot of people found out when they became the people I was working with. Including one of Thor’s warrior comrades, if you can believe that. The Avengers themselves still don’t know, because they haven’t had to. Don’t suppose they ever will now.” He did sound sad on that last one.
And equally so when he said, “But it changes things, doesn’t it? Between the two of us.”
“It does,” said Matt, because it did. It meant he would never again trust his old mentor completely. Then again, that was the real thing of it, because he wasn’t sure he ever had anyway.
“For what it’s worth,” said Coulson, “I’ve always wanted the best for you. I still do now. I think you’re going to be a kick-ass lawyer.”
Matt couldn’t quite get himself to say it out loud, but that last sentence sounded way too much like that of a man who wasn’t sure he’d live to see that.
Yet the tremors in his hand had stopped, and the abnormalities in his biorhythms had subsided. “I’m fine now,” he said. “Let’s get you some groceries.”
Matt wanted to protest, he really did. But he doubted anything he said would do any good.
Out in the street they appeared nondescript, two men walking together, the blind man led by his friend. Matt had come back to Hell’s Kitchen to live under his own name; any of his neighbors who heard it and googled it would be able to find out about the senses, and respond with fascination, or prejudice, or indifference; he’d long since accepted he’d have to deal with all three. The same would go, of course, for his coworkers at Landman and Zack, and his classmates come January. But it was the habit of a lifetime to conceal, to avoid attention, to not make people on the street raise their eyebrows while their hearts increased their pace. It was probably the smart thing to do even around those who’d know.
So Matt held on to Coulson’s arm, and followed his footsteps, though he mentally mapped the streets out as they went for future reference. And, as was also his lifelong habit, he continued to listen to and feel out the man he was in contact with. He’d done it as much with his fellow agents as with whoever they’d been trying to deal with, even ones he knew well, including Karen, unless they asked him not to, anyway. Everything reinforced all the impressions he’d had about Coulson already. At one point, after he’d walked for nearly two minutes with one of his legs suddenly unsteady, how absolutely calmed he was with it passed was downright creepy.
During his early teen years, Matt had often accompanied his parents to the supermarket, if only so he could tell them what was more or less likely to spoil. But after leaving the Academy, he’d tended to have what groceries he got delivered instead; there were just too many ways in which it was easier. He was planning to arrange for that here, too; this was just to tide him over until then.
Another thing he’d stopped doing as an adult was spending more than a few days, or a few weeks at most, right smack dab in the middle of a cityspace where everyone was so tightly packed together. DC wasn’t quite like it, especially not in the area his family had lived. He was well used to being in crowded or even chaotic places for a few hours, and this shouldn’t even be impacting him yet. It didn’t on the streets that much, where he was maybe more distracted by the whole familiar-yet-not phenomenon they gave him.
But when he was in the supermarket, the amount of people in and right outside it combined with the overwhelming collection of smells, including ones that told him the exact condition of all the store’s less than fresh offerings, felt like a bit too much. He tried not to react as best he could, even forcing his fingers to stay relaxed on Coulson’s arm. But of course the other man realized anyway; he always did. “Look,” he whispered to Matt. “We don’t have to do this today. This isn’t a place you’ll be going to regularly anyway.”
“I am not going to flee at the first stressor of this city,” Matt insisted. “We’re here, so let’s get some milk and bread, and some of the vegetables in here smell really good.”
So they carried on, and it wasn’t too bad when they were actually choosing products, and Matt was focused on them, picking out the freshest milk and such. But while he tried to be subtle about smelling everything, when he was leaning over the cucumbers, trying to filter them out from the squash right next to them, the people around them definitely noticed. It was mostly quiet murmurs of each other of what’s he doing and can a blind man actually…, nothing that should’ve needed to cause him trouble. But against the backdrop of too many voices, too many smells, too many sounds and bodies and movement, Matt was suddenly struggling to pull his attention to where it belonged.
He didn’t even realize his breathing had gone irregular until Coulson was softly saying, “Matt, Matt. Focus on my voice. You’re still holding my arm.” For a moment Matt could only hear the blood vessels in said arm, only feel the flow of heat through and from it. But Coulson had talked him through this kind of episode plenty of times during that first year under S.H.I.E.L.D.’s care, and he continued to speak: “Never mind the cucumbers; you can let all that go. Never mind what anyone besides us are doing or saying right now; you don’t need to worry about any of that. We can go straight to the checkout right now, or if you’re not even up to that, we can just put everything down and leave.”
Matt took a deep breath, forced himself not to react to all the scents. Coulson had started humming, so softly probably only he could hear it, and it was easy for him to zone in on that. “Find me an empty aisle?” he finally managed. “Preferably not the frozen foods one.”
Coulson took him to an aisle that seemed largely composed of cookies and breakfast foods; he knew he found the smell of baked goods soothing. Far enough away from the murmurs of the other customers, and when the overhead music turned soft, Matt started to feel better. Still, he shook his head and said, “I haven’t had an episode like that in years.”
“It is possible this is too much for you,” Coulson said gently. “Especially living in this city, all alone.”
“I’m not going back with you,” Matt snapped.
“I wasn’t going to ask you to,” said Coulson. “I told you, I want you out here, and right now, you have a mission anyway. But I need you functional for that. If I have to have someone to come and check in on you, I can do it. It can be Agent Page whenever she’s available, although this would have to be far more often then she would visit as your supervisor, enough that it might have to be someone else at times.”
“I see,” Matt replied, letting Coulson hear his resignation there.
“I’ll try to send Agent Page as often as possible,” he said, more gently. “Are you all right now?”
Matt spent a few more seconds mentally getting his bearings. “I’m good.”
“Glad to hear it.” Coulson picked up a familiar-sounding paper bag. “Chocolate Milanos?”
“Yes, please.” Of course he’d remembered those were Matt’s favorite.
They didn’t try to get any more produce, but they did get a few more other items, and were able to get through the checkout line and out of the place without any more trouble. They deliberately had limited their purchases to what they could carry back to the apartment between the two of them, though the bags were heavy enough that the walk back took much more time than the walk there. When they’d finally trudged up the stairs and put everything away, Coulson checked the time, and said. “I can’t stay. Do you need any more help with anything?”
Matt gave it a moment’s more thought, and found himself mostly just wanting a hug. But he wasn’t sure how to ask for one. Coulson hadn’t given him once since he’d been fourteen.
Although when he didn’t say anything immediately, Coulson reached out, flicking his hand slightly to make it easy to track before wrapping it around his far shoulder. Such a simple gesture had made Matt fall apart once, back when he was ten. That wasn’t going to happen now, but he let himself lean in, focus solely on the warmth coming from the other man, except then the tremors came back, standing out in the few seconds in took for Coulson to realize and all too hastily draw away. “Hopefully I’ll see you soon.”
After he left, Matt set about preparing himself a supper, and tried not to feel too much. The apartment was high enough off the ground that the constant chatter and clatter of the city was a little easier to deal with, although no level of Manhattan was truly quiet. And yet, as the heat from boiling water flooded his face, Matt felt the emptiness of the air in the apartment, not even a fly to keep him company; he thought the place had recently been debugged.
He’d spent much of his adult life on his own. The missions he’d done had often required it, and between them, he’d spent time on S.H.I.E.L.D. outposts and in convenient cities where he hadn’t necessarily known anyone around him very well. But he’d still usually been fairly near to people who’d he’d believed to all be brothers and sisters to him, ones who would be at his back the moment he needed them, comfortable of his place among those who protected the world.
Now, of course, he knew that had been false, that he’d been wrong to trust half the people he’d trusted, and that the S.H.I.E.L.D. he’d been so proud to be part of had done as much wrong as it had done right. And while there might be a new, better one now, they were currently all far away from him, and his choices had drawn a new line between himself and them. It didn’t help that they were in hiding from their own government, and Matt was aware that if either he or they got caught while the other party didn’t, there might not be any help or rescue, because now the preservation of those that were left had to take priority, which could make those kinds of decisions go either way.
It wasn’t quite the most alone he’d ever felt in the world. That feeling would always belong to that night when he’d lost his first father. But this night, with him all alone in an apartment in Hell’s Kitchen, felt too much like an echo of that.