The sound of the door being pounded against was enough to jolt Melody from her sleep. Clutching her doll tightly to her chest, she scurried downstairs to see her dad pushing against the door, worry growing as he saw his daughter standing before him. Fear was present on her face, clutching her doll even tighter if that were possible.
"Chto proiskhodit, Papa?" she asked in Russian, crying out when the door nearly gave way if her dad hadn't held it in place. What's going on, Papa?
"Melodiya, idti vverkh po lestnitse spryatat'sya!" he replied. Melody, go hide upstairs! Another bang against the door sounded when he shouted, "Teper'!" Now!
Fear grabbing hold, the six-year-old ran upstairs, nearly dropping her doll on the steps as she tripped on her way up. She went into her room, opened the door to her closet, crawled into a cramped space in the corner, and hid there, huddling herself and her doll close to each other. Quietly, she hummed to herself to keep calm, barely able to keep quiet with each bang that resounded through the house. Why hasn't anyone noticed the noise? Melody couldn't help but wonder.
Finally, the banging stopped, and then a loud gunshot was heard. Melody cried out, and clamped her hands over her ears, tears falling down her cheeks. Silence followed. A few minutes later, she heard footsteps rushing toward the closet door. The door opened to reveal her father, his brown hair nearly black in the darkness. His brown eyes softened as he reached out to Melody and wiped away one of her tears.
"Milaya," he said softly, "eto vse budet khorosho. Vy sobirayetes' byt' v poryadke, ne volnuytes'."
After a few moments, Melody nodded. The banging started again suddenly. Her father smiled, and pointed toward her heart. "Yesli ya ne vernus', pomnyu, ya vsegda budu zdes'." He always said that if something dangerous was about to happen, Melody knew that by now. But what if he didn't come back? What then? She had no one else. She would be all alone.
Just before he left, she grabbed his hand tightly. "Ne ostav' menya v pokoye, pozhaluysta, Papa," she pleaded softly.
"Vy nikogda ne budete odni, Melodiya, pomnite. Ya vsegda budu s vami nezavisimo ot togo, chto," he responded, pulling her into a tight embrace, and kissing the top of her head. "Krepites', moya malen'kaya Melodiya. Vsegda byt' khrabrym."
Melody nodded, and then her father gave her another forehead kiss. The banging downstairs increased. With that, her father closed the door to her closet, and ran out the room.
Melody didn't remember how long she waited there, huddled into a ball in her closet. More gunshots were heard as the door downstairs finally slammed open. She rocked back and forth, humming to herself, clutching her doll to her chest, anything to block out the noises. She kept her mind focused on waiting for her father to come back upstairs, to come into her room, and tell her everything was fine, and that they had to move again, like the last time this had happened two years ago.
He never came back.
A long time after the noise finally stopped, and it seemed the intruders had left the house. Holding her doll in her arm, Melody cautiously made her way downstairs. Nothing seemed wrong at first, other than a few things being tossed around as if there were a struggle. Then her heart seemed to have stopped at the sight in front of the living room.
Her father's dead body laid there, blood pooling at the front of his shirt. His eyes, now void of the life that had sparked in them before, stared upward at the ceiling without seeing. Falling to her knees, Melody crawled over to him, placing her hands on his chest, hoping that he was only sleeping.
Once, twice, she softly nudged him. "Papa? Papa?" she said softly. The tears rolled down her face when he didn't stir. "Papa!" she cried, choking back sobs as she realized he wasn't going to wake up, he was never going to wake up ever again.
She broke down, hugging her doll close. What was only thirty minutes felt like hours until the door opened again, and Melody raised her gaze, her eyes red and puffy from crying, to see a man in a suit. "Who are you?" she asked in what little English she knew, her voice small.
"My name is Phil Coulson," he smiled down at her. "Where's your dad?"
At his words, Melody began crying anew. From that alone, Phil had his answer. His heart filled with sorrow, not just at the death of his friend but at the sorrow of his six-year-old daughter. "Your father was a good friend of mine," he said softly, even though he felt his heart breaking at her tear-stained face. "Come on, we'll take care of you. They'll come back for your dad later."
He held out his hand to her, and Melody hesitated a second before taking it. Before she left out the door, she glanced back at her dad's body, then allowed Phil to lead her away.
Melody silently cried, standing next to her father's open casket. She fingered the rose quartz pendant around her neck as with her other hand, she held her father's hand in her small one and said something so quiet that no one else heard. After a few more moments, she stepped away, and watched as they closed the casket, and lowered him into the home they'd dug to place his body in.
Melody took a rose from the nearby wreath of flowers, and dropped it in the hole before Phil grabbed her hand and gently pulled her away. Over the past few days, he'd told her all about her father's dangerous line of work as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, and that explained to her everything. Now, she was under S.H.I.E.L.D's protection, simply because Director Fury was also a friend of her father. In a few days, he would ship her off to S.H.I.E.L.D academy to train as a an agent. Melody had actually asked to become one, just like her dad.
That was what worried Phil the most. She was setting herself up for a dangerous life. But this was what she wanted, and maybe in her mind, this made her feel closer to her dad now that he was gone, so he let her be. But if she got hurt...
Melody sighed, and stayed behind, standing beside her father's grave an hour after everyone else had gone home until she was escorted to a car waiting for the two. She glanced outside the window one last time as she got inside, then switched her gaze to the necklace around her neck, raising it to her eye. Her last gift from her dad, the last one she'd ever get. That was when she remembered his last words, "Be brave, my little Melody. Always be brave."
She would be brave. She didn't care what anyone else said, she would be a S.H.I.E.L.D agent like her father, and just as good, if not better, than her mother. And nothing would change her mind.
Translations: (I got these from google translate so sorry if I got some things wrong. The first two sentences are basically already translated so here we go)
1) Sweetie, it's all going to be alright. You're going to be okay, don't worry.
2) If I don't come back, remember I'll always be here.
3) Don't leave me alone, please, Papa.
4) You'll never be alone, Melody, remember. I will always be with you no matter what.
5) Be brave, my little Melody. Always be brave.