Chapter Text

“I wonder why Agent wanted us to come to this crappy beach again. He knows how much I hate the outdoors. Ugh, sand in my shoes,” Tony complained as he walked, looking back a few times to ensure that his brothers were following him.

Tony Coulson, formerly known as Tony Stark, was the son of a rich, genius inventor. He had dark brown hair that he always liked to slick with gel and brown eyes. Being 15, he was the eldest of Coulson’s children. He himself was a genius and an inventor, his room always cluttered with random inventions and robots. After his parents died in an unfortunate car accident, leaving him an orphan, Coulson adopted him after seeing the boy’s obvious genius and quirky personality.

“Language, Tony. Phil would be pretty annoyed at you if Thor picked up on those words,” Bruce said, holding the toddler, Thor, by the hand. Bruce himself looked like he didn't want to be at the beach either on this wet, foggy day.

Bruce Coulson, formerly known as Bruce Banner, was 12 years old, making him the second eldest. He had dark brown curly hair, hazel eyes, glasses, and actually looked like he could be brothers with Tony. He was also a genius and loved to do science experiments and read. His father was an abusive drunk and his mother had been killed when he was right by his own father. Coulson adopted the boy despite his horrid anger management issues and Tony and Bruce had gotten along very well since the day they met. (They got along even better after Tony stopped trying to make Bruce mad.)

“Jeg synes det er dejligt udenfor,” Thor said, meaning, “I think it is nice outside.”

Thor Coulson, formerly Odinson, was the youngest of the Coulson children at the age of 4 years old. He had long blonde hair that he refused to let anyone cut, beautiful blue eyes, and therefore looked nothing like Tony nor Bruce. Thor’s father, a wealthy man from Denmark, had dumped him in an American adoption home when his mother had died. He spoke very little English (although he understood it quite well), which is why he wasn't adopted for multiple months. Luckily, Phil was fluent in many languages, including Danish, and he took it upon himself to teach Bruce and Tony it as well. Thor had a minor obsession with hammers (he always carried around a plastic one with him) and had already shown great talent in woodwork and carpentry.

All in all, the Coulson children were different. They were an oddly mixed team, but got along so well that one would think they were blood siblings.

“Only you could think that, Thor,” Bruce said fondly to the toddler, letting go of his hand and watching his younger brother wander the damp sand.

“Hvem er det i afstanden?” Thor asked, his energetic running coming to a complete stop as he saw a silhouette in the fog. "Who's that in the distance?"

“Huh?” Bruce asked, turning around to see as well. Tony was silent as he squinted through the fog, eyes straining to see the man or woman who was approaching.

“You two, come closer to me. If it’s some creep, we run, okay?” Tony commanded, and Bruce herded Thor over to Tony. As the figure got closer and closer, the three brothers were getting more and more agitated, all ready to go at a moment’s notice.

“Coulsons!” A familiar voice called through the fog, and Tony let out a quiet sigh of relief as the figure came through the fog to stand in front of them. It was their father’s friend, Steve Rogers.

Steve was a large man, over 6 feet and easily weighing over 180 pounds in muscle. He was a high school teacher, formerly in the military, where him and Phil had met. His blonde hair was neatly combed, and his blue eyes were dark with sadness.

“Good morning, Cap,” Tony greeted with a smirk.

“Good morning, Mr. Rogers,” Bruce said with a small grin.

“Good morn,” Thor said, looking up at the man with curiosity.

“Hello, children,” Steve said, and if it was possible, he looked even sadder. Tony opened his mouth to say something that was probably rude, but Steve cut him off. “I have some very bad news for you three.”

Tony went silent, moving closer to Bruce and Thor. Bruce was tightly squeezing Thor’s shoulders, now eyeing Steve with dread in his eyes. Bad news was, well, never good.

“Your guardian...has perished. There was a fire back at your house.”

All three children stood silent.

“The firefighters came, but Phil, he didn’t make it out in time.”

More silence.

“Perished means died,” Steve explained, sympathy all over his face.

“We know what perished means!” Tony snapped, coming out of his shock. He couldn’t believe what Steve was saying. He knew that one day Steve was going to get him back for all his snarky behavior, but this wasn’t an acceptable prank back.

Bruce blinked rapidly, trying to stop tears from coming to his eyes. Phil was easily the best guardian he had ever had, and now he was just...gone.

“How- how’d the fire start?” Bruce asked around the lump in his throat. Thor let out a small whimper, and Bruce picked up his brother, allowing the toddler to tightly cling to his shirt.

“The cause of the fire is unknown yet. I’m very, very sorry for your loss. I’ve been sent here to take you three home until things get figured out with the bank.”

“Well, what if we don’t want to go home with you?” Tony growled, and Steve blinked at the aggression.

“Tony…” Bruce murmured quietly, and Tony deflated like a popped balloon.

“I- Mr. Rogers..” Tony muttered, and it was the closest Steve would ever get to an apology.

“I understand. It’s fine. Let’s go.” Tony, Bruce, and Thor followed after Steve, hearts heavy and minds roaring at the thought of how easily their old life had been ripped to pieces like one of Thor’s bad drawings and exploded into flames like most of Tony’s experiments.