Regarding secrets.

[sonofcoul]

I know I've told you that you need to be patient regarding some things. I've gotten to the point, though, that I've caught up with your impatience, and that's not exactly standard for me.

More than a bit ironic, I know. Like I said, some secrets are meant to stay secret.

Unfortunately I've been around secrets enough to know a lot of reasons why that's the case.

And when secrets about me are being deliberately kept from me, I don't like any of the reasons that I can conceive of. Because at this point it's down to my imagination, and I've cultivated a pretty good one of those.

So I suppose what I'm saying is that now I perfectly understand why you've been so preoccupied with the subject.

Comments

[sonofcoul]

[He nods, pausing for a moment before he answers.]

I've wondered the same thing.

On the other side of the coin, though, is it looking a gift horse in the mouth? I wouldn't be doing any of it at all if I were still... well, if I weren't here in the first place to do it.

[belovedone]

Gratitude is a worthy thing, but it should never be used a yoke around one's neck, or a barrier between them and what they would seek. To invoke it thus is it undermine the very nature of whatever is given.

To be grateful is indeed a good way to feel, but it should never be a responsibility.

[sonofcoul]

Wise advice. I don't know. My instincts are telling me that this is something I need to know. They have a better record than not. It's just that in this circumstance… I don't know if I'm too close to this to see clearly. My judgment might be compromised.

Of course, I could just be looking for reasons to talk myself out of it because I'm… I'm afraid of what I might find.

[belovedone]

Perhaps. Have you no friends, or allies who you can go to for advice? Maybe they can see more clearly what it seems you yourself cannot.

[Gently.] And what is it that you might find? What is the worst, that you could possibly be so afraid of?

[sonofcoul]

I might. But it's hard to tell who. The ones keeping the secret in the first place are my allies.

But the worst I can think of… what if I find out that I'm not actually myself? If I did, actually, permanently die, and I didn't get resuscitated, and I'm just some... I don't know, something they shoved my memories into.

And that's just the worst I can think of.

[belovedone]

Then that makes it a very complicated secret, indeed.

But what makes you "yourself", exactly, that you could even have that worry? Does not the ability to have concern over your own identity give its own proof as to that?

[sonofcoul]

I don't get very much in the way of uncomplicated secrets.

I think, therefore I am? That's getting a little metaphysical. I don't know the answer, but if it were that easy, it doesn't exactly explain why I wasn't told.

[belovedone]

I gathered that. Perhaps it would be fair to say you lead an interesting life. But then, so do all the best warriors.

No, it does not. Those who kept it from you must have had a reason. But that does not necessarily mean that it is one you would agree with...or even that it could be considered right. [Pause.] Again, I can only speak from my own experiences. I do not know you well enough that I would expect you to follow my advice blindly.

[sonofcoul]

More interesting daily, it seems lately.

I don't intend to follow it blindly, but it's nice to get an outside perspective sometimes. The echo chamber of one's own thoughts can occasionally get a little stifling.

[belovedone]

And is this a good thing, or a bad one? [A mild but knowing air to her tone.]

Ah yes, so I do hear. I'm only flattered to hear if I can indeed be of any use. For what it's worth I do not offer my words lightly...but I am accustomed to not anticipating that any should feel the need to listen.

[sonofcoul]

[His answer is amused, more than anything.] Depends on the day.

You've been very helpful, actually. Thank you. I think maybe anyone who opts not to listen to your advice at least a bit is worse off for it.

[belovedone]

Somehow, I thought as much.

You are too kind. [Her expression is a bit rueful at his last observation. But she lets it pass, after a hesitant pause.] My son spoke of you, in passing. But his description of you was praiseworthy. He knew and thought of you as a good man, one with great honor. And I do believe I see that his feelings were not mistaken.

[sonofcoul]

I do the best I can with what I have. If I make some small difference in the world while doing so, then I consider it a job well done. If your son finds it praiseworthy, then I am honored by it.

[belovedone]

[She smiles.] You are indeed a noble and rare type of man, Phil Coulson.

He was happy to have known you, I think. As he is with most of his mortal companions.

[Her next words come slow again, and perhaps significantly.]

He will most glad to hear that you are still alive.

[sonofcoul]

I'm happy to have known him, too. Even given some of the more far-reaching consequences.

[The last statement, on the other hand...]

I like to imagine he will be, but that situation is... complicated.

[belovedone]

[Her happy expression falters, at that. She does after all know how he met his demise, and at whose hand.

But she says nothing and tries to disguise her melancholy. Maybe he notices, maybe he doesn't.]

You don't intend to tell him. Or...do you think that you will not be allowed?

[sonofcoul]

[He catches the slip, but doesn't comment on it. No need to extend that particular wound longer than needed.]

I'm confident they'll find out eventually. I just don't know the exact time frame yet. Like I said. It's complicated.

[belovedone]

[She would apologize on behalf of the one that did him such harm, for she truly is sorry. But she knows it would do no good -- and anyway, that isn't her apology to make.]

Reunions never should be. But they often are. I understand.

[sonofcoul]

For what it's worth, I do look forward to when it happens.