bakerstreet | BACK FROM THE DEAD

BACK FROM THE DEAD

Everyone you know and love thinks you're dead. They mourned for you, laid flowers on
your grave year after year. Aren't they going to be surprised to find you alive and well?
( reposted from here )

HOW IT WORKS:
❧ Post a comment with your character's name, canon, and any relevant preferences.
❧ If there's a specific scenario you like best, set the scene.
❧ Or leave your comment blank and let others use RNG to choose.
❧ Have fun!

SCENARIOS:
① Took longer than I thought → Maybe you went on a voyage and presumed dead. Maybe you were stranded on an island, kidnapped by pirates, or lost in the Bermuda Triangle. Whatever the case, you're back now, to everyone's great surprise.
② Amnesia → You sustained a traumatic head injury that left you unable to recall your identity. It's all come back to you and now you're faced with the realization that the people who knew you before have moved on with their lives.
③ Sleeping Beauty → Due to magic, science, or some happy marriage of both, you were put into a deep sleep to be awakened at some point in the future. Maybe your friends and family weren't aware of the plan. Wakey, wakey.
④ Only mostly dead → Think Frodo and Shelob. You're thought dead and your body's left behind. Only, you weren't as dead as everyone thought. Oops.
⑤ Faked it → Maybe you've been put in witness protection or you're a secret agent no one can know exists. For whatever reason, you had to fake your own death. Now it's safe to go back to your life. How are you going to explain that?
⑥ Back from the dead → You really were dead. But you're not any more. Whether it was divine intervention, Dr. Frankenstein, or aliens, you're alive and kicking once again.
⑦ Choose your own adventure → Mix and match or make up your own!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only | Expand All

[ooc: I would love to do a 'we used to be close friends, but then you died, and I had to live with the fact that I never told you I loved you, only now you're not dead, and I'm right back where I started, about to vibrate apart into a million pieces' with these two. Hopefully aiming for a happy ending. Sound like something that might interest you? there's even head canon. ETA: Now with 100% more working links. ]

Edited 2014-02-09 04:30 (UTC)

((OOC: sure. I can work with that. They could have met before Avengers and then he disappears since he died?))

It wasn't exactly an easy decision for Coulson to keep away from the people he used to know (and/or loved) but he was willing to follow SHIELD's orders. It was a system he trusted and believed in and he'd known since the day he joined that it was a job that involved sacrifice.

Still, it didn't quite prepare him to see Dejah from across the hall at the hub. She had no clearance to access this area but it was still crowded enough that Coulson decided to keep his eyes forward and try to mingle his way to the closest room where he could hide out until she passed by.

Dejah swiped a hand across her eyes, and clutched the files tighter against her chest, holding her head high. She hated coming here. Every dark suit looked like his, every stiff-backed human silhouette, every voice became his. Reminding her to keep her communications device charged. Briefing her on the artifacts she was analyzing. Telling her about baseball and comic books, telling her all the stupid jokes he could think of, until her sides ached with laughter.

She hated coming here because it made her miss him so terribly, she'd begun to imagine she was actually seeing him. The figure moving through the crowd caught her eye and she followed it, expecting it to resolve into another face, another ghost melting away into the crowd.

She watched the man who couldn't be Phil Coulson walk into the conference room she was headed for, and she set her jaw. The last hundred paces down the corridor were a haze, and her hand didn't hesitate on the handle. It wasn't him. It was never him.

Except...when it was.

She froze two steps into the room. The door fell shut silently behind her. Time ground to a halt.

Edited (verb tense) 2014-02-09 19:34 (UTC)

Coulson sucked in a breath and closed his eyes when he heard her come in. He didn't even need to turn around to look. He had been an agent long enough to recognize when the jig is up.

"Dejah," he acknowledges and slowly turns around. It feels like forever since he's last seen her.

It's been an eternity.

She takes another step towards him at the sound of her name, and her breath hitches in her chest. She opens her mouth to speak, and nothing comes out.

Her brow knits in confusion, and her eyes sheen with tears. She shakes her head.

She's finally started actively hallucinating him, hearing his voice as well as seeing him. And it's too good, too real to wish it away. Would she give up her sanity just for another chance to see him?

The files fall through her numb hands, one at time, like playing cards spilling from the hands of a magician.

Coulson is taken aback by the reaction and he's quickly stepping forward to take her hand and keep her from dropping the rest of the files.

"Easy. I'm real," he reassures her softly. He knows the first thing he should do is apologize but he can't bring himself to.

The files are completely forgotten. He touches her, and she chokes back a quiet sob. His hand is warm and solid, and she takes his arm, gripping his suit like he's the only thing standing between her and the void.

"Agent..." She can't seem to get enough air into her lungs to speak. Instead, her hand reaches to touch his face.

She can't believe what she's seeing.

Coulson is surprised by he amount of affection she's showing and it sends a sharp pang of guilt in his chest. He nods and smiles thinly at her.

"Hey," he greets. "Maybe you should sit down."

A distant part of her brain is whispering that yes, this is a very good idea. It would be preferable to falling down, which is a real possibility at this point, the way her knees have gone to jelly. She lets him guide her to one of the chairs, and settles into it, not relinquishing her grip on his suit.

She lets slip a fractured laugh, more another hitch in her breath than anything, but the smile on her face tells the truth of it. Her hand turns so she can caress the line of his jaw with her knuckles. All the sorrow, all the loss, all the regret, all of it flowed like cold lead through her veins.

Except where he was touching her, where she was touching him. He was warm and solid and alive.

"They told me, you were killed. They told me..." Again, she has to stop and breathe. "I'm -- I thought I'd never see you again."

Coulson lets her, giving her time to come to terms with his presence here.

"I know. I'm sorry I couldn't tell you." He stops short. Protocol and following the system sounds like really lame excuses when you're face to face with emotions like this. He reaches out to touch her chin, lifting it so he can look at her. "Are you okay?"

He's concerned, really. They've been close but it's devastating to see a friend reduced to near tears over him.

She catches his hand, keeps it held against her cheek, and gives herself over to the idea that this isn't a dream. That this is the truth, and he's here, and he's touching her. There is nothing near about these tears. They're spilling freely down her cheeks, and she's smiling, almost laughing, pressing her face against his palm like she's afraid if she lets go, he'll disappear again.

"I thought I'd lost you." Somehow she manages to make her voice work, though it sounds vaguely frog-like to her ears. Something about crying and talking at the same time just isn't elegant, no matter how you do it. Even with quiet bursts of laughter interspersed. "You're alive!"

Coulson can't help it. Her reaction is making him smile and feel guilty at the same time. It's quite an odd combination but considering the circumstances, he'll give it a pass.

"I am. Sorry I couldn't tell you."

He says the words again, and she can't help but giggle through her tears. "Of course you couldn't tell me, you were dead." Don't be silly, Phil.

And all at once, reality catches up with her.

She sits up, and swipes a hand across her eyes. She tries to control her breathing, and she looks down at the floor. And then back up into his face. She can't tear her gaze away from his sweet face.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. Agent Coulson." She catches his hand again, and she's still trembling, still clutching at him like she's afraid he'll evaporate into mist. "I'm -- this is all -- I'm not supposed to know."

Which means they kept him from her. Which sends a white hot lance of rage through her chest. Her jaw sets, and her blue-eyed gaze turns dark as a summer storm. Still crying. Still smiling. And now, quietly furious at whoever stole him away from his life.

Coulson squeezes her hand, smiling thinly. "Was dead," he agrees. "My survival is still classified but I'm glad I ran into you."

He realizes it's true once he said it. Despite how much he follows SHIELD's protocol, he still wishes he could tell his friends, end their grief.

She grips his hand with both of her own, holding way too tightly, but she can't seem to get her hands to care right now. All the emotion storming through her right can't compare with the joy and relief of seeing him, hearing his voice again.

"I'm glad to see you, too. If you couldn't tell." She touched his cheek again, quietly awed. "I need to see you again. Soon. I know you're--you must be busy, but please, come and see me. I'm at Los Alamos now. Most days, when I'm not--I'm--I'll stay until you can send word, if you can. I need to see you. Please."

Her words are spoken quickly, quietly, with a desperate urgency. As if she could convey all the things she never got a chance to tell him. As if she expects him to say no, and disappear again, maybe forever this time.

Coulson hesitates before he answers. The fact that she's seen him is going to be problematic enough; finding time to go find her will be another problem.

It doesn't take long for him to come to a conclusion however. Dejah knows now. There's no changing that and he's all right with this.

"All right. I'll come to you." He pauses before adding, "two days." It should be enough time for him to finish up with the mission and slip off.

She exhales a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding. He's never seen Dr. Thoris so emotional, and so demonstrative. She's normally, while not exactly the quiet type, one to carry herself with a certain aloofness, a certain calm, centered nature. He's certainly never seen her this agitated.

"The twenty four hour diner, on Route 501. I'll wait there for you. Two days." Again, she grips his hand in hers, her smile radiant even through her tears.

When she can find the strength, she finally lets him go. She swipes a hands across her eyes, stands, and surveys the mess of her files with a soft laugh. She turns back to him, her hands smoothing her skirts.

"I'll let you go. I'm--I'll be okay. Go on. Two days." She drinks in the sight of him for one long last moment. "Two days."

If she can't hold onto him, she can hold onto that phrase.

Coulson smiles to reassure her and nods, finally standing though he doesn't let go of her hand until he has to move out of arm's reach. The emotions openly playing on her face making it harder for him to decide to leave.

"Two days," he promises and finally walks out the door and back towards his team, just in time to avoid running into the agents who are about to use the meeting room.

Dejah has learned to expect some unwanted attention when she slips away from the SHIELD secure facility. With her long black hair, copper red skin, and distinctive facial tattoos, she doesn't exactly look like someone from New Mexico. Mandy, the waitress with the strangely formed blonde hair, thinks she's some sort of movie star. She wants to chit chat about Los Angeles, and someone called Brad Pitt. Dejah is not entirely unfamiliar with American films and other popular culture, but she is by no means an expert. So she smiles, and nods, and says, 'Oh yes, absolutely' a lot. And when Mandy gets bored, she drinks the diner's coffee and tries to read her book. (Sid, the short order cook, wants to know why an actress is reading Stephen Hawking's A Brief History Of Time. Mandy says maybe she's doing research.)

She's been reading the same page, the same paragraph, over and over for the last hour. It's almost 10pm, and a quiet voice in her head is whispering, maybe she imagined it all. Maybe it was a hallucination, and maybe he really is gone. Maybe her mind went with him.

The mission had gone far longer than he expected. It's 10.30 by the time he makes it to the diner. He lets out a sigh of relief when he sees Dejah still there and he walks over to her with a look of apology on her face.

"Sorry I'm late. I got held up," he says as he nears her and pulls the chair out. "Have you been waiting long?"

His presence seems to earn them some knowing looks from the serving staff but Coulson isn't paying attention to them at the moment.

She had spent the last few hours looking up every time the bell on the door jangled, so she sees him the moment he arrives. She puts the book down immediately, and stands to receive him, a relieved, warm smile on her face. She looks different in street clothes, having exchanged the long silk dress of her traditional garb for black leggings and a black turtle neck.

"Not long," she lies. Only since this afternoon, and honestly, she would have waited until morning before giving up on him.

The moment he's close, she catches his hands and pulls him into a warm embrace, not caring if she wrinkles his suit jacket. She holds him perhaps a bit too tight, a bit too long, but she thinks he might understand.

Coulson hugs back carefully, giving her a few pats on the back before coaxing her to sit down again.

"Sit down. I'm not going anywhere," he reassures her. He keeps holding her hand just in case though and waits until they're both seated before he waves the server over so he can get some coffee.

He waits until the server is gone again before asking carefully, "Is there something I should know?"

The lukewarm hug in return makes her heart ache, but that's nothing new for her. She's never really thought of this as something that could happen, ever. That knowledge never kept her from feeling about him the way she did.

He keeps hold of her hand, and she has to bite her lip to keep from starting to cry again. He's here and he's touching her. She holds his hand in both of hers, that simple contact far more precious to her than anything else right now.

And then he asks. She considers playing dumb for a moment, acting like she has no idea what he's talking about, but that thought dies when she meets his gaze. He's always been a mystery to her. He's still holding her hand, and she grips it tight. It takes her a long, torturous moment to find the words.

"I never thought I'd see you again. I always knew when we were going to meet before, and it was--I could set it aside. The work was obviously more important. And you would never--I mean, the job..." She's struggling, clearly. She closes her eyes, her thumb drawing soft circles on the back of his hand.

All she wants to do is pull him close and bury her face in his throat, to kiss his skin and hold him against her.

A moment later, she sits up straight, swiping a hand over her eyes, and smiling at him. This is a joyous occasion. "Thank you, for coming," she says. "I know how busy you must be."

Coulson isn't fooled. To be honest, he's not sure how he feels about this. He admires Dejah for who she is and he'll admit she's very attractive but with all the matters that just cropped up in his new life, it feels like something out of left field.

"I'm not that busy," he lies easily. He then squeezes her hand to reassure her while he points out, "you like me."

His bold statement of fact is answered by a dry little laugh, and a baffled look on her face. Her grip on his hand never falters.

"No. No, Agent Coulson." She is a scientist, not a politician. There is no room for half truths in her world. This is no simple infatuation, no 'crush' as these humans called it. It hadn't faded with time, only grown stronger, and only when it was too late to do anything about it did she even begin to realize just how much he meant to her. She tries to explain, in unemotional terms. He at least deserves that much.

"I'm in love with you. I have been since we first met. I thought it would be unprofessional to do anything about it, and I never thought..." Her voice trails off and her gaze drops to where he's still holding her hand. "I thought either it would fade with time, or the circumstances would change and an opportunity would present itself."

BACK FROM THE DEAD

Re: Phil Coulson | MCU/Agents of SHIELD | OTA

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

oops sorry about the tense changes. used to using present tense

i didn't even notice! <3

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)