Chapter Text
Centuries ago, the sidhe known as Phil Coulson was a simple Ghillie Dhu residing in Gairloch watching over the children of the farmer and lairds. Living in his simple cottage amongst the birch trees, Phil had tried his best to be a guiding hand when the children needed it and a protector for them when it was required.
As time passed, however, metal and machines began to come to Phil’s lands. He tried to live alongside this progress, but it was challenging and the iron drained much of Phil’s power causing him to begin aging and even the simplest of magics were hard to accomplish. After a few years, he found it more and more difficult to stay hidden and after he’d been found by the people of the loch, he was forced to leave his homeland.
He traveled around the world a bit until settling down on a new continent brimming with promise. Metal and machinery soon encroached there too, but Phil still had space and he learned to adapt and live alongside some of these new machines (though he still preferred to live as simply as possible himself)
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Phil came back from his patrol of the woods to the sounds of a child crying. When he’d left that afternoon, the two children who played near the edge of his woods had been laughing and chasing each other and Phil had felt confident leaving them for a bit. It was his job to watch over the children who came close to his home (he often saw these two nearby investigating the trees) and seeing the bright smiles on the two boys’ faces had filled Phil with warmth and a little bit of extra power.
Now that the sun had gone down and the stars were coming out, Phil was on his way to his small cottage and the night was quiet except for the quiet sniffles coming from the space between two trees near the corner of his land. His cottage being found meant he was going to have to move again, but first he could do what he was called to do and help this child.
“Hello? Little one? Are you okay?” Phil tried to keep his voice soft and soothing, but it was difficult. The last time people had found his cottage, he’d been forced to flee and leave his homeland behind.
“Not s’posed to talk to strangers.” The voice was quiet and trembling and every instinct Phil had as a fae was screaming to take the child home since his parents and brother were clearly useless.
Instead, Phil took a seat with his back to the two trees and looked up at the sky. “That is very true. Talking to strangers can be very dangerous. My name is Phil, and since you found my house I wanted to make sure you were not lost.”
A blond head peeked out from the space between the trees. “I know you. You helped when I fell down.”
Phil smiled. “That I did. You were chasing your big brother and tripped.”
A small body crawled out from between the trees and stood in front of Phil, blue eyes studying and assessing him. “I’m Clint.”
“Nice to meet you, Clint. Would you like some help getting home?”
Clint pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and looked scared. “Dunno. Dad’s gonna be mad. Can I stay with you?”
Scooping Clint up, Phil set him on his hip and started walking. He’d heard the boy’s father yelling at night and he wished he could keep Clint with him, but it just wasn’t possible. “I think they’ll be glad you’re home safe and sound.”
As they walked, Phil just let Clint babble on about life as a 5-year-old in Iowa and while Clint did not mention a lot about his family, what he did say concerned Phil quite a bit.
When they were close to Clint’s home, Phil felt the boy tense in his arms and tighten his grip. Phil rubbed his back and tried to calm him down. “It’s alright, Clint. Look, you’re home. Everything is going to be okay.”
Clint started to cry again and Phil’s heart broke a little. “It’s not okay. Dad’s gonna be mad and throw things and hurt mama and I don’t want it. Please don’t make me go, Mr. Phil, please!”
Phil rubbed Clint’s back some more until Clint quieted down. Using a bit of glamour, Phil walked into the house and silently took Clint to his room. “It’s okay, Clint. See? No yelling, no throwing. Just your nice warm bed.” Phil picked up a soft, worn plush bird and handed it to Clint. “Look at this, little bird, your friend has missed you and he’s so glad you’re back. I think he needs a hug, what do you think?”
Clint hugged the bird close to his chest and yawned. His eyes started to droop closed and Phil breathed a sigh of relief. He could feel his glamour fading already and if he had to deal with any more tears, he wasn’t sure he’d be able to get out without trouble. He laid Clint down on his bed and covered him with the blanket, humming a lullaby as he tucked him in.
Letting the glamour drop, Phil left the house and used just a small bit more of his power to alter the parents’ memories about Clint being missing.
Exhausted, Phil walked into town and found a payphone. He made a quick call to Child Protective Services and put some magic into his suggestion that the Bartons should get a visit. By the time he hung up the phone, Phil could feel the pull of the woods calling him home. Plodding slowly into the woods, Phil hoped, that soon, Clint would find a family who could love him the way he deserved.