Battle of New York (1)

The Helicarrier's medical bay was quiet.

Coulson lay on the bed, covered by a white sheet. Steve, Tony, Thor, and Natasha stood around him without saying a word.

Nick Fury walked in, his footsteps heavy. He went to the bedside, stood there for a moment, then pulled a stack of cards from his pocket and tossed them onto the nearby table.

The cards were stained with dried, dark-red blood.

"Phil's collectibles," Fury said hoarsely. "Captain America signed cards. He always carried them around, hoping to get your signature, Steve."

Steve's gaze flickered, and his lips tightened into a thin line.

"He believed in heroes." Fury's voice was low, but every word struck like a nail. "He believed in you. He believed that when a crisis came, you would stand up and shield ordinary people."

He paused, his gaze sweeping over every one of them.

"He believed that until he died. Loki won. He made us turn on each other, made us distrust each other, and turned the Avengers into a joke."

Fury picked up a card. The bloodstain happened to cover Captain America's shield.

"Coulson died because he wanted to buy you time. He bet his life that you could unite."

He put the card back on the table.

"Now tell me, was he right to bet on you?"

With that, Fury turned and left.

The medical bay was deathly silent.

The mockery on Tony's face was gone, leaving only coldness. Steve clenched his fists, his nails digging into his palms. Thor stared at Coulson's face, recalling the warriors who had fallen in Asgard.

"He was right," Steve said first, his voice low. "We let him down."

"Then we make up for it," Tony said. "I'm going to make Loki understand that hurting my people and attacking my building comes