The Tale of Two Coulsons

1.

Chapter One:

To some, the dawn symbolised a fresh start, a new beginning. No matter what troubles occurred yesterday, they were wiped away with the ink of night and the twinkle of stars. All that remained was a sun, which rose, and streaked the sky with splashes of soothing orange, golden yellow and pretty pinks. I had always thought it looked like an artist had painted the sky, allowing the morning sky to become a piece of artwork before the day began.

Unfortunately, unlike most days, I was unable to admire the masterpiece of the morning, due to the news that my father had a mission and an invitation to join him. This usually meant it was a low-risk mission, which meant quality time with my father. I hadn't seen much of him recently, due to the influx of missions and - much to everyone's grievance - paperwork.

So, despite the fact that it was barely light outside, and that I was still sore from my training session with Agent Barton before he left for 'vacation' - which was really a cover story for going home to his family, which he kept secret for their safety - I climbed down from my perch and headed out to the runway where my father stood waiting.

"Morning, Bumblebee." He smiled, hugging me.

"Hey, dad. So, what's this mission?" I asked as I followed him up the ramp of the Quinjet.

"We are, for lack of a better word, babysitting Tony Stark while he figures out a cure."

I blinked, my brain slowly processing those words as we sat down. My dad watched in amusement at my reaction.

"Wait... Cure? Babysitting? Tony Stark? What?" I eventually spoke.

"His arc reactor has been poisoning him, as well as keeping him alive. He has about two weeks left before it kills him, so Fury stepped in. But because he's been acting recklessly, I was called in to make sure he doesn't kill himself in the process. I figured you would have wanted to join me, hence the invitation." Dad clarified.

"You guessed correctly. But why the early hour?"

"He lives in Malibu. We have a bit of time, seeing as he's currently getting yelled at by Fury. And I thought we could have a bit of a day trip beforehand, pop to the beach before we have to go over."

"I'd like that." I smiled.

—

Let me introduce myself.

I am Emily Coulson, the daughter of Phil Coulson, and an Agent of SHIELD. The youngest to date, if you want to be specific. I was not like the majority of 16-year-old girls, who spent their free time at school, spending their free time with friends their own age, and going home each night with only the worries of the upcoming deadlines to homework assignments to concern their mind.

I was practically born into S.H.I.E.L.D, being raised by my dad and most of the agency. I was homeschooled by some of the smartest people in the world, and taught self-defence by the most infamous and deadliest assassins. And once I was old enough, I expressed my wish to become an Agent. It took months of persuasion before my dad caved, on the condition that I wasn't to go on any solo or high-risk missions until I was 18.

It's been just under 6 months since I officially became an agent and I haven't once regretted my decision.

It had been my father and I since I could remember; my mother having died in childbirth. But despite the slight pain in my chest whenever I thought of the birthdays, and landmarks that she was missing, I knew that my father always tried his best to be enough. 

He was my best friend and I loved him dearly. I couldn't think of a world without him.

—

After arriving in Malibu a few hours later, we spent the majority of the morning bathing in the warm Malibu sun, and catching up on recent events.I filled him in with the gossip that he had missed in between missions, trading secrets and giggling at inside jokes. Sooner than I would have liked, it was time to go. We walked in together, side-by-side, catching the end of the conversation between Fury and Stark. I beamed in surprise and delight as Natasha, in her suit, walked in, not having seen the woman for a few months. The red-haired agent winked in greeting as she strode past.