I wasn't the type to get nervous. Never have been. Regardless of the type of situation I found myself in, I would never feel a tremor in my hands, or a bead of sweat rolling down my temple – it just wasn't me.

But that all changed the moment I set foot back inside S.H.I.E.L.D HQ. As my feet carried me through the familiar hallways, just as they had done a thousand times before, I felt an overwhelming flood of anxiety rush through me.

Every single person I passed by stopped walking, or paused their conversations, or dropped their coffee cups at the sight of me. Me, who was supposed to be dead. I paid no mind to them, though. After all, they meant fucking nothing to me, and they most definitely weren't the reason for my unsettled nerves.

She was.

As much as I was looking forward to seeing her again, I knew that the feeling would not be mutual. How could it be? I faked my death, left her alone and lied about it for eleven months.

I wouldn't be surprised if she murdered me right on the spot.

I was forced to shove my anxieties and qualms to the furthest, darkest corner of my mind, though, because I had made it to my destination. Thank fuck for that – I really didn't like feeling nervous.

Alright, to be fair, I didn't like feeling anything – but especially that. It's not a good look for me.

My ears pricked up at the sound of movement on the other side of the metal door I was standing in front of. I heard her voice, and my head went into overdrive, a billion thoughts clawing their way to the front of my mind.

Closing my eyes, I had to draw in a couple deep breaths to refocus myself. When I opened them again, I was back in full-on agent mode.

Because I couldn't afford to be anything other than the cold-hearted bastard everyone knew me to be. I couldn't. Not even in this situation. Not even for her.

There was a bigger picture – a much bigger one – and it called for Agent Urie, not Brendon. I couldn't be the person I knew she wanted me to be.

Because protecting her was far more important than getting her to forgive me.

There was a mechanical whirr as the door began to open, and I exhaled through my nose as I prepared to step into the next room.

She was the first thing I saw through the opening as I slowly walked forward, and I couldn't for the life of me draw my attention away from her. Didn't want to, either.

I knew that my expression was unreadable (it always was) but hers was precisely the opposite. I saw her go through the full spectrum of human emotion in the short span of ten seconds as she struggled to make sense of what it was that she was seeing.

It was another thirty seconds before she spoke.

"Oh, my god..." she whispered.

Okay, so she hasn't started yelling yet. Good. Fantastic. We're off to a great start.

"What's the matter, sweetheart?" I called to her, "You look like you've seen a ghost."

Yeah, if she had any doubts that it was actually me, pretty sure that my douchey comments erased them all.

I kept my eyes trained on her, watching as she took one slow step backwards, holding one hand out in front of her defensively as she turned to look at Fury as if to say "what the fuck".

"Who the hell is that?" she demanded.

My brow creased infinitesimally.

What do you mean 'who the hell is that'? Who do I look like, the fucking Easter Bunny? That was a pretty stupid question, (Y/N); have you been hanging out with Corvey again?

"It's Brendon," Fury replied calmly.

Obviously.

"No," the word spilled from her lips immediately and she shook her head to further clarify that she was unsatisfied with the answer, "No, it's not. It can't be. Brendon's dead."

Clearly not, babe.

"I saw him die."

"Actually," I spoke up, slowly advancing on her; she refused to look at me, keeping her gaze lowered, and for every step I took forward, she took one back until eventually I stopped moving altogether, "you saw the quinjet die. Me, on the other hand..."

"Stop it," she said, addressing me for the first time since I'd entered the central space. Still didn't look at me, though.

Her hands were trembling slightly, causing her to lower her outstretched arms once she noticed it. Despite her unwillingness to look at me, I remained staring at her, and it didn't take a genius to see that her brain was working overtime.

The small twitches in her face told me that she was having an internal battle with herself, as if she was torn between believing that it really was me and deciding that I was some kind of imposter. As if.

Look at me, damn it. Just look at me and you'll see. I'm realer than I've ever been.

Hesitantly – and after drawing in a deep breath – she forced her head to lift, and her gaze locked with mine. And in that moment, the world stopped.

Hi, beautiful.

"You," her voice came out soft and shaky, as she struggled to maintain eye contact, "son of a bitch."

Alright, my world stopped. Hers, clearly not.

I couldn't say I hadn't been expected those glorious five words; on the contrary – I bet Fury that she would. Flexing my jaw, I looked to The Director with one raised eyebrow.

"Told you. You owe me ten bucks."

"You've been alive this entire time?!" she yelled, clearly beginning to become pissed off at my downplaying of this very precarious situation.

But what did she expect me to do? Drop down to my knees and beg for her forgiveness while simultaneously professing my undying love for her? We all knew that that wasn't me.

And I hadn't come back for that.

I turned back to her, face expressionless. "Yes."

"So you lied to me? Again?"

"Yes."

Clearly.

"Damn it, Brendon!" she growled, balling her hands into fists and frowning at me angrily, "This is fucking serious! Can't you give me an answer that's not comprised of one syllable only?!"

Oh, she was mad pissed. The icicles would be coming annnyyyy second now. I probably shouldn't make anymore sarcastic remarks, huh?

Shouldn't.

But...

"Sure, I can," I shrugged, slowing walking towards her, "When you stop asking questions which you obviously know the answers to. I mean, really, (Y/N)," I stopped inches away from her and lowered my voice a bit, keeping my eyes locked on hers, "you're just wasting both of our time, here. We could be making out right now."

I wish.

And I got that wish slapped the fuck outta me a second later as her hand collided with my face in a smack so harsh it almost gave me whiplash. A sharp sting broke out over my skin and I clenched my jaw at the feeling.

Her breathing was so ragged that I could feel her inhales and exhales on my skin. She was about to go in for another smack, but I reached out and gripped her wrist tightly before she could.

She immediately began struggling to release herself from my hold, grunting and groaning as she attempted to push herself away. "Let me go! Get your hands off me!"

"Calm down," I told her, staring her down.

"Fuck off!" she spat, managing to get out of my grip and push herself back and away from me.

Taking shallow breaths, she whipped around to face Fury, who had been watching us with perfect stoicism.

He should've left when he had the chance. Pretty sure now she was gonna massacre both of us.

"And you," she cast an accusatory glare his way, "you knew about this. And what- you, you helped him? Helped him lie to me?"

"(Y/N)-"

"You're supposed to be the one person... the one person that I can trust. You're supposed to be my family and you- you..."

Her voice broke before she could get the rest of her words out, and my chest tightened at the sound. I hated it. But there was no way in hell she was about to let me try and comfort her. Case in point – a moment later, she turned and hurried away.

Instinctively, I started running after her, but was stopped by a firm hand pushing itself against my chest.

"You know there are about a million ways in which you coulda handled that better," Fury quipped, arching his brow and looking at me in disapproval.

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. "Yeah, but a million of those involve telling her the truth, and you know I can't do that."

"She deserves to know. Especially after the hell she's been through."

"And she will," I insisted, gently shoving The Director's hand away from me, "I'll tell her, just not right now."

Fury stared at me thoughtfully for a moment, and then stepped aside to allow me to pass. "Good luck."

I gave him a small nod of thanks before taking off once again, sprinting down the emptied hallway. She was probably on the opposite end of base by now, and I picked up my pace to carry myself faster. A corner was approaching, and I hurdled around it, just barely stopping myself in time to prevent from crashing into her.

And Spencer.

Oh, how absolutely fucking wonderful. Sometimes I wish I really were dead.

The tension that hung in the air surrounding all three of us was incredibly tense and undeniable, but she broke it with a bitter laugh.

"Oh, wow, great timing," she scoffed, putting on a fake smile as she looked at me, then turned to Spencer and cocked her head in my direction, "He's not dead, apparently. Just a liar."

Well, she wasn't wrong.

She stormed off again, in the direction that would take her the furthest away from me as fast as she could. Even though every muscle in my body was twitching in anticipation, pushing me to chase after her – I couldn't.

Because now I was preoccupied with a new challenge.

Spencer gazed at me in complete disbelief. "What the hell?"

Ah, fuck.

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Thank you for reading x