mini nanowrimo, word count 319, the bare bones of - Past is Just a Goodbye
I keep writing origin stories. This one is for Phil. If Phil Coulson ended up being the baby brother to Joyce Summers. You know, Joyce Summers who was Buffy Summers' mother. Yeah. Phil Coulson uncle to the slayer. This was supposed to be this kind of light hearted campy piece. Uh, but apparently I can't do anything lately but write tragic back stories. One day I'll write something where people have awesome parents and stuff. Today is not that day. Joyce is awesome though. Buffy was lucky to have her.
Daddy always found them in the end.'>
Title: the past is just a goodbye
Author: clumsygyrl/thegirlthatisclumsy
Fandom: Avengers movieverse, Buffy, The Vampire Slayer (TV)
Pairing(s): Clint Barton/Phil Coulson,
Summary: Joyce had been his big sister before, during, and after the huge argument that had her packing her things and moving across the country.
“Good riddance,” his father had yelled as the tailights of his big sister's car disappeared around the bend of the road.
Phil remembered clenching his jaw and hating his father in that moment.
Notes: Joyce (nee Coulson) Summers was the best big sister Phil Coulson remembered having. Phil Coulson is the uncle to a Slayer. This should make dealing with his work life much easier; it does and doesn't. The title is from Teach Your Children by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young.
Warnings: Child abuse, emotional/physical/mental abuse, domestic violence, Phil and Clint's childhoods are not rosy, death, gun play, lots of very bad things that happen in the world and I'll warn for tobacco chewing old ladies who love their grandbabies.
the past is just a goodbye
Joyce had been his big sister before, during, and after the huge argument that had her packing her things and moving across the country.
“Good riddance,” his father had yelled as the tailights of his big sister's car disappeared around the bend of the road.
Phil remembered clenching his jaw and hating his father in that moment. His mother tried to stifle her crying, but Phil just glared at his old man and went inside to see to his younger siblings. It was his job to take care of them now that Joyce was gone.
He wouldn't let her down.
+
His sister Lolly left the Coulson house just before Phil's fifth birthday. He remembered the soft way she used to touch him and kiss his forehead. She smelled like flowers and cinnamon. His daddy was a loud man, comfortable with his hand wrapped around a tumbler full of scotch and the other passing out whuppings. It was sad when Phil didn't see his biggest sister Lolly at the dinner table any more.
Joyce cuddled him close and said that Lolly was in a better place.
It wasn't till Phil was much older that Joyce had been telling him that Lolly was in a place where daddy's belt or fist couldn't reach her.
Thousands of miles between the Coulson home and the golden coast of California seemed far enough for Lolly.
Phil figured back then it sounded like such a good idea that Joyce had thought so too.
+
Phil's mama tried to leave his daddy several times in Phil's life. She left the first time with Phil and Joyce in the old beat up Datsun that was always coughing up black smoke.
Daddy always found them in the end.
Phil wondered why his daddy always found them or even bothered looking when all he did was hit them. Jenny and Graham spent most of their first few years alive being shushed by Phil whenever their daddy came looking for them. They all learned how to be still and silent when they heard Daddy coming. Their Mama wasn't a big woman, but Phil knew that she'd try her damnedest to stand between them and Daddy's fists.
Charlene Coulson had grown up in the Virginia backwoods and knew her way around a shotgun.
“Philip, come here, boy,” Charlie Coulson's jaw was purple and her eye was blackened. Phil had belt marks striping his back but they didn't hurt so bad any more. She smiled sadly at her baby boy. Graham was the baby of the family, but Phil was her first boy. He had her eyes and the same wispy baby fine hair. “Mama's gonna teach you how to shoot this gun.”
Phil took the end of the shotgun. The wood stock was smooth and velvety, the front end was heavy and Phil could barely lift it. “You put that up against your shoulder like this,” Charlie said and positioned the gun against his shoulder. They went through the motions and Phil concentrated hard. All his teachers told him he was a smart thing and he aimed to prove them and his Mama right. “He ain't touching us again, baby boy.”
The last time daddy found them he shook Jenny really hard. She fell and hit her head against the floor and made Graham cry. Phil tried to hit him with the frying pan but it was the heavy cast iron one that Granny Fowler gave Mama on her wedding day. Daddy took the belt to him, but that was okay because it meant that Graham and Jenny were okay.
Daddy had taken off to work after that. Mama hadn't been able to get to them. Daddy had locked her in the bedroom in the back of the house.
Phil wasn't more than ten now, but he knew deep down that he hated his daddy.
Charlie had pulled Phil into her lap when he finally made it to the back of the house and jimmied the lock open. “You did good, baby boy. C'mon,” she went and popped open the trunk of the Datsun and pulled out the shotgun. “My daddy was a hunter, baby boy. Your granddaddy woulda killed that son of a bitch the first time he touched us.”
Phil remembered how they ran that night after his Mama put the shotgun in his hands. They made it as far as the county line.
The lights on the cruiser lit up his daddy's face, making the shiny star on his uniform stand out. “Charlene, you ain't takin' my kids! Git yourselves home now!”
Phil watched his Mama step out of the beat up yellow car and Phil shushed the babies and kissed them both on the head. “Hide under this. Be quiet, okay? Imma help Mama,” he whispered pulling up the big green scratchy Army blanket from the car floor. Jenny cried, but they were silent tears and Graham clung tight to her.
“We be good, Pill,” Graham said and Phil kissed the top of his forehead. They were such good babies.
They were yelling so loud that they didn't hear the screech of the door.
“I said git back to the house Charlene Coulson or I swear to the Good Lord I will take my hand to you again. You seem to forget the part about obeyin' your husband,” Daddy looked almost happy when his hand came up in a fist.
Phil knew that smile. Daddy always had it when he was about to lay out one of his punishments.
“No, Daddy. You're not hurtin' us no more,” Phil said and he felt something like a steady hand push his shoulders up and his back straightened right up. The gun almost felt weightless when he raised it up.
“Boy, get back in that damn car. I'll take care of that smart mouth once I finish with your whore of a mama.”
“No.”
Phil barely felt the kick of the shot, but the sound rang in his ears for hours later.
+
The court ruled it an accident. Phil sat up in the big chair and looked at the man in the suit and said in a small voice. “I didn' mean it, sir. It was all so confusin' I thought Daddy was a bad man.”
It wasn't the first time he'd lied.
It wouldn't be the last.
+
Charlie Coulson and her children moved back to Virginia to live with her elderly mother. The tiny little house just outside Greeley Creek County lines was a well worn thing, but cared for and loved. Granny Fowler took one look at the lot of them when they climbed out of the car and shook her head, spitting tobacco into the hard ground. “Ah, Charlie girl. Shoulda come home sooner.”
Phil's Mama smiled, the corner of it ticking up slightly. “He made it a little difficult.”
Granny Fowler just muttered out a curse and spit again. “Hope he burns in hell evil sonofabitch. Pardon my French, Lord.”
Phil smiled so big the split in his lip cracked, but that was okay. His daddy wasn't there any more to make the cut bigger.
+
Phil watched his Mama struggle to support herself, him and the babies. Granny Fowler was a ornery old lady and Phil loved her with everything he had. “Granny, Grampy was in the Army, right?”
“Ah, boy. I know that look. You're wantin' to go on and leave your poor old Granny here in her house and go off soldierin', working and fightin' for Uncle Sam,” Granny ruffled Phil's hair and peered down at his homework with rheumy blue eyes, graying out in the low light from the old lamp in the front room.
Phil grinned and he kissed Granny's cheek. “I'll always come back, Granny. I'm good at takin' care of people. Even Mama says so. Says I got a head for it and the heart.”
Granny looked sad all of a sudden then she gave him one of her big hugs that was more poky bits of bone and smelling like rosewater. “You are, PJ. Your Grampy woulda puffed up like a damned rooster if he'da had the chance to meetcha.”
Phil grinned and went back to his history homework.
+
Captain America was a revelation to Philip J. Coulson. Cap stood for everything good and great that their country stood for. He fought Evil and the evil things that men did. He fought the monsters that wore uniforms and human faces. The Captain sacrificed everything for others and to keep him and all the other kids that were like him safe from the bad things in the world.
The Captain fought and fought and hurt for what he believed in and the things that were bigger than him.
Phil thought that fighting for things like Cap was a good goal.
+
“Are you sure, PJ?” Charlie asked wringing her hands. Graham and Jenny were busy in Granny's garden helping with the tomatoes that were threatening to unionize and take over the entire plot of land if nothing was done soon.
“Yes, Mama,” Phil said smiling faintly as she narrowed her eyes at him. “I'm sure. It'll give me money for college when I'm done and I can send money home to you for the twins.”
Charlie sighed and she rubbed her palm over her forehead. She had another shift at the factory and she opened her mouth to say something else.
“Charlie girl, just let the boy do what he needs to do,” Granny plonked down three glasses of bourbon onto the table. “Boy needs to provide for his family. Let 'em be a man.”
“Mama, he's not old enough to drink this shit,” Charlie said picking up her glass with a glare.
Granny spat into her tin cup and picked up her glass of amber liquid with the other. “If the boy's old enough to join up, then he's old enough to enjoy his Grampy's good stuff. God rest his soul.”
Phil reached over and covered his Mama's hand with his and squeezed. “It's going to be okay, Mama. I'll make you and Granny proud.”
Charlie snorted and slugged back the liquor with a grimace. “Don't be an idjit. Granny and I are damn proud of you already, PJ.”
Phil let his Mama squeeze his fingers hard as he sipped his bourbon. He hid his smile behind the glass when Granny winked at him.
+
Phil was in California for the first time when he is two years out of basic and about to head to the Q to become a Ranger.
He'd thought of his sisters often growing up, but his mother hadn't been able to or had the resources to try and find them and let them know that their no good daddy was dead.
He missed their smiles.
If he concentrated hard enough, he could remember how their mouths would shape smiles.
Joyce, he remembered, had the same color hair as he did.
He finished out his stint in the Q and came away with a squad of brothers in arms. He never once tried to find his sisters. He hoped that they were doing well.
He hoped that they knew he loved them even if he didn't know them any longer.
He hoped that they'd be proud of him if they knew.
+
Phil served in ops all over the world. He saw deserts dry as bone and jungles where the air practically swam in moisture. He was shot at and shot others in the name of country and safety. He was doing good work and he knew it. He was good at what he was doing.
The brief visits home were always bittersweet. Granny was getting on in years and Phil did not want to know what it would be like when she passed.
“Stop your fussing, PJ. My granddaddy and my memaw all lived to be over a hundred. I ain't leavin' this world until you give me some great grandbabies.” Granny's eyes narrowed when Phil's jaw tightened and his hand came up to rub at the short buzzed hair of his scalp.
“Bein' in the Army, Granny. I'm a little busy...”
Granny spat on the ground and she pointed her ancient tin spit cup at him. “Boy, don't you go lyin' to me. You're not too old for me to take my hand to your ass.” She sat back in her rocking chair and laughed, loud and wet. “Boy, you don't fool your Granny.”
Phil felt his insides twist. “Granny, it's not-.”
Granny narrowed her eyes at him. “You listen here, Philip James Fowler Coulson. Ain't nothing in this world that's gonna make me love you any less. Ways I see it, you risk your life to keep us all safe. I'm gonna be seein' the Good Lord before you, God willing, and I'll ask Him if he cares who you're takin' to your bed behind closed doors. Man shouldn't care.” She snorted and spat again, the tobacco hit with a wet splat against the metal. “Men always writin' things in books and screwin' 'em up.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Only thing that matters to me, PJ is one thing. As long as you love them, that's all I want for you and for them to love you just as fierce.”
She rocked back and forth slowly then fixed Phil with a squinty eye. “You make sure they deserve it, Philip James. Your blood may be part Coulson, but you're a Fowler no doubt. You got the same look as your Grampy. He found me and didn't let go till the Good Lord asked him upstairs.”
Phil had to sit down at his Granny's words.
“You hear me, boy?”
Phil heard the faint tink of tobacco hitting metal again and he nodded. “Yes'm. I heard you rightly.”
“Good. Hate repeatin' m'self.”
+
“Cheese!”
Phil stopped the smirk and smoothed his face out into the customary blankness that'd been trained into him years ago. “Sir?”
“Got a proposition for you, son.” Nick Fury was smiling like he had caught the goddamn canary and cage and all the gold gilt that came with it.
Phil scratched the back of his neck with the pen in his hand. The desert was drier than he remembered from last tour and he was itching to get back home. It was Granny's birthday in a few weeks and he wanted to surprise them with a visit if he could swing it. “Didn't think I was your type, sir.”
Nick rolled his eyes. “Tuck it back in. I ain't got no shiny shield or blond hair and blue eyes. I know what trips your trigger, asshole.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” Phil said smiling pleasantly and tucked the report back into it's proper folder. “What's the assignment?”
Nick paced the small confines of the command tent before turning on his heel and fixing Phil with a steady look. “I'm being tapped to move out and up. Head up a new joint division. I want you on the go team.”
Phil sat back in his chair and tapped his finger against the battered table top. “Spec ops?”
Nick's mouth stretched into something like a smile. “Something like that. Follow me back to my office. We'll discuss it properly. Whatever we discuss is classified as of now.”
Phil watched as Nick disappeared behind the closing flap of the tent door. Curiousity pricked at him and he cursed himself.
“Granny would skin me one for following like a damn cat,” Phil muttered and pushed himself out of his chair. “She'd also skin me one for not.”
He pushed his way out into the heat and followed Sgt. Fury into the unknown.
Notes:
Buffy was born in 1981
Joyce was 20 when she had her; right after marrying Hank - Joyce was born in 1961
Lolly is born in 1959 - moves out to California when she is 15; runs away from home - hippy
Joyce leaves home at 17 in 1978 - wild child - early acceptance into Berkeley - never really talks about family to Buffy; only meets Lolly
Phil was born in 1970; Phil is 8 when Joyce leaves; He barely remembers Lolly, she left when he was 5
Jennifer and Graham are born in 1973
Daddy always found them in the end.'>
Title: the past is just a goodbye
Author: clumsygyrl/thegirlthatisclumsy
Fandom: Avengers movieverse, Buffy, The Vampire Slayer (TV)
Pairing(s): Clint Barton/Phil Coulson,
Summary: Joyce had been his big sister before, during, and after the huge argument that had her packing her things and moving across the country.
“Good riddance,” his father had yelled as the tailights of his big sister's car disappeared around the bend of the road.
Phil remembered clenching his jaw and hating his father in that moment.
Notes: Joyce (nee Coulson) Summers was the best big sister Phil Coulson remembered having. Phil Coulson is the uncle to a Slayer. This should make dealing with his work life much easier; it does and doesn't. The title is from Teach Your Children by Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young.
Warnings: Child abuse, emotional/physical/mental abuse, domestic violence, Phil and Clint's childhoods are not rosy, death, gun play, lots of very bad things that happen in the world and I'll warn for tobacco chewing old ladies who love their grandbabies.
the past is just a goodbye
Joyce had been his big sister before, during, and after the huge argument that had her packing her things and moving across the country.
“Good riddance,” his father had yelled as the tailights of his big sister's car disappeared around the bend of the road.
Phil remembered clenching his jaw and hating his father in that moment. His mother tried to stifle her crying, but Phil just glared at his old man and went inside to see to his younger siblings. It was his job to take care of them now that Joyce was gone.
He wouldn't let her down.
+
His sister Lolly left the Coulson house just before Phil's fifth birthday. He remembered the soft way she used to touch him and kiss his forehead. She smelled like flowers and cinnamon. His daddy was a loud man, comfortable with his hand wrapped around a tumbler full of scotch and the other passing out whuppings. It was sad when Phil didn't see his biggest sister Lolly at the dinner table any more.
Joyce cuddled him close and said that Lolly was in a better place.
It wasn't till Phil was much older that Joyce had been telling him that Lolly was in a place where daddy's belt or fist couldn't reach her.
Thousands of miles between the Coulson home and the golden coast of California seemed far enough for Lolly.
Phil figured back then it sounded like such a good idea that Joyce had thought so too.
+
Phil's mama tried to leave his daddy several times in Phil's life. She left the first time with Phil and Joyce in the old beat up Datsun that was always coughing up black smoke.
Daddy always found them in the end.
Phil wondered why his daddy always found them or even bothered looking when all he did was hit them. Jenny and Graham spent most of their first few years alive being shushed by Phil whenever their daddy came looking for them. They all learned how to be still and silent when they heard Daddy coming. Their Mama wasn't a big woman, but Phil knew that she'd try her damnedest to stand between them and Daddy's fists.
Charlene Coulson had grown up in the Virginia backwoods and knew her way around a shotgun.
“Philip, come here, boy,” Charlie Coulson's jaw was purple and her eye was blackened. Phil had belt marks striping his back but they didn't hurt so bad any more. She smiled sadly at her baby boy. Graham was the baby of the family, but Phil was her first boy. He had her eyes and the same wispy baby fine hair. “Mama's gonna teach you how to shoot this gun.”
Phil took the end of the shotgun. The wood stock was smooth and velvety, the front end was heavy and Phil could barely lift it. “You put that up against your shoulder like this,” Charlie said and positioned the gun against his shoulder. They went through the motions and Phil concentrated hard. All his teachers told him he was a smart thing and he aimed to prove them and his Mama right. “He ain't touching us again, baby boy.”
The last time daddy found them he shook Jenny really hard. She fell and hit her head against the floor and made Graham cry. Phil tried to hit him with the frying pan but it was the heavy cast iron one that Granny Fowler gave Mama on her wedding day. Daddy took the belt to him, but that was okay because it meant that Graham and Jenny were okay.
Daddy had taken off to work after that. Mama hadn't been able to get to them. Daddy had locked her in the bedroom in the back of the house.
Phil wasn't more than ten now, but he knew deep down that he hated his daddy.
Charlie had pulled Phil into her lap when he finally made it to the back of the house and jimmied the lock open. “You did good, baby boy. C'mon,” she went and popped open the trunk of the Datsun and pulled out the shotgun. “My daddy was a hunter, baby boy. Your granddaddy woulda killed that son of a bitch the first time he touched us.”
Phil remembered how they ran that night after his Mama put the shotgun in his hands. They made it as far as the county line.
The lights on the cruiser lit up his daddy's face, making the shiny star on his uniform stand out. “Charlene, you ain't takin' my kids! Git yourselves home now!”
Phil watched his Mama step out of the beat up yellow car and Phil shushed the babies and kissed them both on the head. “Hide under this. Be quiet, okay? Imma help Mama,” he whispered pulling up the big green scratchy Army blanket from the car floor. Jenny cried, but they were silent tears and Graham clung tight to her.
“We be good, Pill,” Graham said and Phil kissed the top of his forehead. They were such good babies.
They were yelling so loud that they didn't hear the screech of the door.
“I said git back to the house Charlene Coulson or I swear to the Good Lord I will take my hand to you again. You seem to forget the part about obeyin' your husband,” Daddy looked almost happy when his hand came up in a fist.
Phil knew that smile. Daddy always had it when he was about to lay out one of his punishments.
“No, Daddy. You're not hurtin' us no more,” Phil said and he felt something like a steady hand push his shoulders up and his back straightened right up. The gun almost felt weightless when he raised it up.
“Boy, get back in that damn car. I'll take care of that smart mouth once I finish with your whore of a mama.”
“No.”
Phil barely felt the kick of the shot, but the sound rang in his ears for hours later.
+
The court ruled it an accident. Phil sat up in the big chair and looked at the man in the suit and said in a small voice. “I didn' mean it, sir. It was all so confusin' I thought Daddy was a bad man.”
It wasn't the first time he'd lied.
It wouldn't be the last.
+
Charlie Coulson and her children moved back to Virginia to live with her elderly mother. The tiny little house just outside Greeley Creek County lines was a well worn thing, but cared for and loved. Granny Fowler took one look at the lot of them when they climbed out of the car and shook her head, spitting tobacco into the hard ground. “Ah, Charlie girl. Shoulda come home sooner.”
Phil's Mama smiled, the corner of it ticking up slightly. “He made it a little difficult.”
Granny Fowler just muttered out a curse and spit again. “Hope he burns in hell evil sonofabitch. Pardon my French, Lord.”
Phil smiled so big the split in his lip cracked, but that was okay. His daddy wasn't there any more to make the cut bigger.
+
Phil watched his Mama struggle to support herself, him and the babies. Granny Fowler was a ornery old lady and Phil loved her with everything he had. “Granny, Grampy was in the Army, right?”
“Ah, boy. I know that look. You're wantin' to go on and leave your poor old Granny here in her house and go off soldierin', working and fightin' for Uncle Sam,” Granny ruffled Phil's hair and peered down at his homework with rheumy blue eyes, graying out in the low light from the old lamp in the front room.
Phil grinned and he kissed Granny's cheek. “I'll always come back, Granny. I'm good at takin' care of people. Even Mama says so. Says I got a head for it and the heart.”
Granny looked sad all of a sudden then she gave him one of her big hugs that was more poky bits of bone and smelling like rosewater. “You are, PJ. Your Grampy woulda puffed up like a damned rooster if he'da had the chance to meetcha.”
Phil grinned and went back to his history homework.
+
Captain America was a revelation to Philip J. Coulson. Cap stood for everything good and great that their country stood for. He fought Evil and the evil things that men did. He fought the monsters that wore uniforms and human faces. The Captain sacrificed everything for others and to keep him and all the other kids that were like him safe from the bad things in the world.
The Captain fought and fought and hurt for what he believed in and the things that were bigger than him.
Phil thought that fighting for things like Cap was a good goal.
+
“Are you sure, PJ?” Charlie asked wringing her hands. Graham and Jenny were busy in Granny's garden helping with the tomatoes that were threatening to unionize and take over the entire plot of land if nothing was done soon.
“Yes, Mama,” Phil said smiling faintly as she narrowed her eyes at him. “I'm sure. It'll give me money for college when I'm done and I can send money home to you for the twins.”
Charlie sighed and she rubbed her palm over her forehead. She had another shift at the factory and she opened her mouth to say something else.
“Charlie girl, just let the boy do what he needs to do,” Granny plonked down three glasses of bourbon onto the table. “Boy needs to provide for his family. Let 'em be a man.”
“Mama, he's not old enough to drink this shit,” Charlie said picking up her glass with a glare.
Granny spat into her tin cup and picked up her glass of amber liquid with the other. “If the boy's old enough to join up, then he's old enough to enjoy his Grampy's good stuff. God rest his soul.”
Phil reached over and covered his Mama's hand with his and squeezed. “It's going to be okay, Mama. I'll make you and Granny proud.”
Charlie snorted and slugged back the liquor with a grimace. “Don't be an idjit. Granny and I are damn proud of you already, PJ.”
Phil let his Mama squeeze his fingers hard as he sipped his bourbon. He hid his smile behind the glass when Granny winked at him.
+
Phil was in California for the first time when he is two years out of basic and about to head to the Q to become a Ranger.
He'd thought of his sisters often growing up, but his mother hadn't been able to or had the resources to try and find them and let them know that their no good daddy was dead.
He missed their smiles.
If he concentrated hard enough, he could remember how their mouths would shape smiles.
Joyce, he remembered, had the same color hair as he did.
He finished out his stint in the Q and came away with a squad of brothers in arms. He never once tried to find his sisters. He hoped that they were doing well.
He hoped that they knew he loved them even if he didn't know them any longer.
He hoped that they'd be proud of him if they knew.
+
Phil served in ops all over the world. He saw deserts dry as bone and jungles where the air practically swam in moisture. He was shot at and shot others in the name of country and safety. He was doing good work and he knew it. He was good at what he was doing.
The brief visits home were always bittersweet. Granny was getting on in years and Phil did not want to know what it would be like when she passed.
“Stop your fussing, PJ. My granddaddy and my memaw all lived to be over a hundred. I ain't leavin' this world until you give me some great grandbabies.” Granny's eyes narrowed when Phil's jaw tightened and his hand came up to rub at the short buzzed hair of his scalp.
“Bein' in the Army, Granny. I'm a little busy...”
Granny spat on the ground and she pointed her ancient tin spit cup at him. “Boy, don't you go lyin' to me. You're not too old for me to take my hand to your ass.” She sat back in her rocking chair and laughed, loud and wet. “Boy, you don't fool your Granny.”
Phil felt his insides twist. “Granny, it's not-.”
Granny narrowed her eyes at him. “You listen here, Philip James Fowler Coulson. Ain't nothing in this world that's gonna make me love you any less. Ways I see it, you risk your life to keep us all safe. I'm gonna be seein' the Good Lord before you, God willing, and I'll ask Him if he cares who you're takin' to your bed behind closed doors. Man shouldn't care.” She snorted and spat again, the tobacco hit with a wet splat against the metal. “Men always writin' things in books and screwin' 'em up.” She paused and took a deep breath. “Only thing that matters to me, PJ is one thing. As long as you love them, that's all I want for you and for them to love you just as fierce.”
She rocked back and forth slowly then fixed Phil with a squinty eye. “You make sure they deserve it, Philip James. Your blood may be part Coulson, but you're a Fowler no doubt. You got the same look as your Grampy. He found me and didn't let go till the Good Lord asked him upstairs.”
Phil had to sit down at his Granny's words.
“You hear me, boy?”
Phil heard the faint tink of tobacco hitting metal again and he nodded. “Yes'm. I heard you rightly.”
“Good. Hate repeatin' m'self.”
+
“Cheese!”
Phil stopped the smirk and smoothed his face out into the customary blankness that'd been trained into him years ago. “Sir?”
“Got a proposition for you, son.” Nick Fury was smiling like he had caught the goddamn canary and cage and all the gold gilt that came with it.
Phil scratched the back of his neck with the pen in his hand. The desert was drier than he remembered from last tour and he was itching to get back home. It was Granny's birthday in a few weeks and he wanted to surprise them with a visit if he could swing it. “Didn't think I was your type, sir.”
Nick rolled his eyes. “Tuck it back in. I ain't got no shiny shield or blond hair and blue eyes. I know what trips your trigger, asshole.”
“Sir, yes, sir,” Phil said smiling pleasantly and tucked the report back into it's proper folder. “What's the assignment?”
Nick paced the small confines of the command tent before turning on his heel and fixing Phil with a steady look. “I'm being tapped to move out and up. Head up a new joint division. I want you on the go team.”
Phil sat back in his chair and tapped his finger against the battered table top. “Spec ops?”
Nick's mouth stretched into something like a smile. “Something like that. Follow me back to my office. We'll discuss it properly. Whatever we discuss is classified as of now.”
Phil watched as Nick disappeared behind the closing flap of the tent door. Curiousity pricked at him and he cursed himself.
“Granny would skin me one for following like a damn cat,” Phil muttered and pushed himself out of his chair. “She'd also skin me one for not.”
He pushed his way out into the heat and followed Sgt. Fury into the unknown.
Notes:
Buffy was born in 1981
Joyce was 20 when she had her; right after marrying Hank - Joyce was born in 1961
Lolly is born in 1959 - moves out to California when she is 15; runs away from home - hippy
Joyce leaves home at 17 in 1978 - wild child - early acceptance into Berkeley - never really talks about family to Buffy; only meets Lolly
Phil was born in 1970; Phil is 8 when Joyce leaves; He barely remembers Lolly, she left when he was 5
Jennifer and Graham are born in 1973