In the days leading up to the phone call, he had been busy following orders. There were mission packets he had to deliver, assignments he had to review, and a lot of other mundane SHIELD things. But Phil Coulson took it in stride, knowing it was just another day on the job. Until he found out his parents were dead and he was now the sole guardian of his 25-year-old autistic sister. Phil sat at his desk, staring blankly at the computer screens, detailing information on the Tesseract and the so-called-'scrapped' Avengers Initiative. He was supposed to be gathering the people listed in the document, but at the moment, he was numb. He get utterly drained, not a single flicker of emotion going through him; just vague bits of conversations from Fury and a few agents who had come by to talk to him. What was he going to do?

...

Agent Maria Hill had just walked by with a cup of coffee and a copy of the Boston Globe, scanning the Art and Life section with a smile. She had family there, and apparently her younger brother and sister were helping to repaint and reconstruct the less savory poarts of the city. She and another agent had been talking about it when the phone rang. Phil, who had asked what Maria was so happy about, ignored it at first. By the fourth call, he decided it must have been important so he walked over to his desk and picked up the device, putting the receiver to his ear.

"Agent Coulson, how can I-"

"Philip? It's Janine, dear," the voice on the other line reminded him of sunny days at the lake, eating pie and swimming with his family. He often spent holidays at his grandparent's vinyard, helping to harvest the grapes, apples, and other produce that his aunt and uncle would turn into wine, or mead. He hadn't spoken to much of his family since joining SHIELD, because it always kept him busy, but he did enjoy the times they did talk or see each-other. He smiled a little, but instantly he knew something was amiss. No one ever called his work number.

His voice dropped an octave, "Aunt J?" He walked away from his colleagues, not wanting them to overhear his conversation. He hadn't seen or spoken to his aunt in nearly three years, so he was a bit surprised to be talking to her now. "What's going on, is everything alright?"

The short pause made his heart sink. With a small sigh, Janine spoke again, "Philip, honey, there was an accident."

Phil rose an eyebrow, "With who?" He braced himself; his grandfather had finally passed, or his stupid cousin had shot himself by mistake while hunting. He absolutely was not prepared for what his aunt said next.

"They were coming back from their trip in Cabo, but they didn't make it." There was a small sob. "The plane went down in the desert, there were no survivors."

A chill swept up Phil Coulson's spine and he steeled himself. "Who-" he cleared his throat, "Who was it?"

"Your parents, dear. They're dead."

...

In the hours after the phone call, Phil had kept mostly to himself. He tried to be professional, but it wasn't his own feelings he was worried about. He had talked to various family members, and close friends, but nothing cheered him up. He felt a cold sense of dread inside of his chest. Sure, his parent's death was a shock, and it devastated him, but there was something else that would be affected by the loss. Something far worse.

...

The funeral had been hard mostly due to the fact that his family began fighting over what to do about the estate of Phil Coulson Sr. and his wife Catronia. The will stated it be donated to charity, which was fine with Phil, he didn't care much about the mansion. He was worried about something much more valuable. His uncles and grandfather instantly began discussing how to divide the money, while the women of the family talked about the vacation homes and assets. They were fighting about who got how much money, or who got hold of the car and beach house and it made Phil blanch visibly. Did no one care...?

"What about Wendi?" he asked aloud.

Instantly the various family members quieted, shuffling and looking embarrased or ashamed.

Phil's voice grew heated, "Does she even know?"

Garrett, his father's older brother, was the first to say anything, "It's Wendi, Phil. She won't understand."

Rage, hot and dark, spread through the man, and he opened his mouth a little in shock. "She's not a child, she's an adult!"

His grandfather made a motion to talk but Phil cut him off "Just because she has a disability automatically means she doesn't need to be involved in family affairs? She's autistic, not brain dead!"

"We know that, Philip, it's just that-"

"What? Just what?" Most of his cousins anf family were looking at him in shock; he never rose his voice, or had much of a temper, but right now, his face flushed, hands clenched, he looked like he were going to punch somone. He looked dangerous.

His grandfather gave a weary sigh and leaned on his cane. His uncles and aunts exhanched glances with each other, and his cousins milled around and talked to one another in order to avoid the coming arguments. "Listen, we all love Wendi, we do! It's just that she has her moments where she doesn't exactly understand things, and I think it would be hard on her if we suddenly told her that her parents had passed away!"

Phil shook his head and gave a sharp laugh of disbelief. "Are you fucking serious?" The harshness in his voice made some people flinch; Philip Coulson never swore, especially in the presence of women and family. "You don't have to treat her like she's a little kid, she's a smart girl! Need I remind you that she has a Master's degree in marine sciences and shark biology? Not to mention her credentials in American Sign Language."

A few people shuffled uncomfortably and Phil gave a heavy sigh before scrubbing a hand over his face in exasperation. "I understand what you're saying, Wendi does have some issues with change in her life and this definitely is going to be hard on her, but at least give her some credit. She's not an idiot."

His grandfather nodded and turned to the rest of the family gathered around the graves. "Well, I guess this is good then, since he seems to be so serious about her."

"He'll do a fine job." One of his uncles said with a relieved smile. There were various wrods of agreement and Phil felt a twinge of confusion. What the hell were they talking about?

"What's going on?" he asked.

His grandfather cleared his throat and pulled a thick envelope out of his inner suit pocket. He opened it up and flipped through the pages until he found what he was looking for. With a smug expression, he thrust the papers at his grandson, andPhil took them, eyes roaming the printed words and signatures. "You are the sole guardian of Wendi. She's your responsibility now, boy."

...

"Lip."

Coulson turned to the chair behind his and looked at the young woman in it. Her short mahogany hair was in slight disarray, and her lip was trembling slightly. Her brown eyes were glossy with a thick layer of unshed tears, and her hands were wringing the hem of her t-shirt. "Wendi," he stood up and walked to the woman, kneeling in front of the chair and cupping the girl's face, tilting her chin to look at him. "I know it's hard, but you'll be okay. I'm here, and so is Fury. SHIELD is your home now." Wendi Coulson blinked, tears falling down her cheeks and staining her JAWS shirt. She pushed her thick, black rimmed glasses up and rubbed her eyes, small pitiful whimpers coming from her throat.

"You can't leave me." her voice was heartbroken and Phil smiled.

"You know I wouldn't do that. It's my job to look after my little sister." He wiped her tears and pulled her into a hug. "I promise that I'll be here when you need me." Even as he said it, he felt it was a lie and the bitterness of the promise stung. He always promised his parents he'd take care of Wendi if something happened and now that it had, he was terrified. Fifteen years her senior, they weren't together too much growing up. He was in highschool by the time she entered kindergarten, and was working at Fury's side with SHIELD when she graduated highschool herself. That's not to say he didn't care for his sibling, he loved Wendi very much and the two would often send letters to each other, and maybe a care package or two and they'd talk on the phone whenever they weren't too busy. Growing up, Wendi had had a fascination with marine life, specifically, sharks.

Her room had always been full of pictures and stuffed animals, books and documentaries on the creatures and she had decided at a young age to become a marine biologist so she could open a shark sanctuary. Phil had found it comical, but then she graduated high school and promptly went to California State University in Monterey Bay to join the shark biology department. She'd also spent two and a half years in Brazil working with shark breeders and touring the rain forest on her holidays. Her love of sharks was the only thing that kept her in school. Wendi was known as a 'high functioning autistic' and wasn't too different than other people, unless a situation caused a change in her routine. She didn't like super loud noises, or overly large crowds. Her tendency to wander was also an issue, but Wendi never strayed to far from her brother nowadays. She'd never liked being alone for too long, so Phil made to call her every night when she was at college, or shoot her an email to let her know he was thinking of her. The day he got the phone call from the hospital, he thought he'd be able to handle taking care of her.

Now he wasn't so sure.

Wendi had locked herself in a janitorial closet of the helicarrier and refused to come out. He had been given an assignment to collect some people to help retrieve the Tesseract and get one of the best agents SHIELD had by the mad man known as Loki, a god from a realm known as Asgard. He had to leave and wanted Wendi to stay with Agent Hill while he was away, but Wendi had taken his briefcase and locked herself in the closet. She was tapping out the tune of Ah-Ha's "Take On Me" against the door and was humming along.

Phil leaned into the door, knocking on its shiny metallic surface. "Wendi-"

"No!" Came the reply. "You said-you said-" Her voice broke, as though she were unable to speak out of anger. Phil sighed, he knew there was no way he could leave unless he took her with him, and that wasn't possible right now. It would be too dangerous for her, especially if she walked off to explore or something.

"Wendi," Director Fury had walked over to Coulson, knowing full well that this was going to go nowhere fast. "I require your assistance."

The girl continued to hum, clearly waiting for an elaboration of some sort.

"Agent Dawson says that he doesn't believe that the Megalodon ever think it's a folktale, like the Lochness Monster." Fury smirked at Phil. "Kindly correct him for me, will you?" The tapping ceased and the door opened and Wendi was revealed. All 115lbs of irritation and exasperation. Brown eyes were narrowed, and her lip curled in a silent snarl.

Phil mused in his sister's disgruntled expression, and he watched as she fiddled with the hem of her JAWS shirt, before frowning severely and thrusting the briefcase at him. "Are you kidding me?!" She stomped off towards the flight deck in search of the 'stupid boy' and disappeared around a corner, mumbling things under her breath.

Phil let out a sigh, "Thanks for that,"

"When in doubt, disprove her college thesis." Fury turned serious. "I'll be going to recruit Rogers, you locate Agent Romanov."

"This isn't going to be much fun, is it?" Phil asked.

Fury snorted, "It never is."