It's finally done! I'm sorry everyone, I didn't mean for this one to take so long, but I had some time and here it is!
It was a sight to watch her play, to watch her skillful fingers tease a myriad of beautiful notes out of the instrument with one hand gripping the bow tightly between her fingers and the other laid carefully upon the strings. Her whole body was moving with the music as she swayed into every crescendo and he watched, mesmerized by the movement as much as the melancholy tune she played so perfectly.
He'd heard this particular piece many times over the past three months, the first movement of Elgar's Cello Concerto like a siren song, the haunting melody drawing him in as if he was doomed to drown with each change in pitch.
The piece was serene, much like its current master, though she was livelier than the song gave her credit for, the only tell-tale sign of her true nature hidden well within the practiced grace of her movements as she played it from memory.
As the last note came to a close, he stood, along with the rest of those in attendance, clapping enthusiastically as the Boston Philharmonic took their well-earned bows.
Phil smiled from his usual, second-floor balcony seat as her eyes sought him out in the crowd, beaming at him as she filtered off the stage with the rest of her section as the applause continued. He waited patiently for her near the door labeled "personnel only", whistling the familiar, memorized tune in his own little version of an encore as she changed backstage. The song halted, however, when his phone buzzed to life in his pocket with an unknown number on display.
Frowning, he answered. "Hello?"
"Hello, my name is Dr. Johnson with Miriam Hospital in Providence, Rhode Island. Is this a Mr. Philip Coulson?"
His stomach dropped at the mention of his mother's home state. "Yes, may I help you?"
"Unfortunately, this evening, your mother, Julie, was involved in an accident-"
He didn't see Audrey approach, but out of his periphery he saw her flinch at the panic growing in his voice. "Is she okay?"
"Yes, sir, she's doing fine. From what I understand, there was an electrical fire that started while she was sleeping. She's suffering from smoke inhalation which comes with some shortness of breath, but everything else is rather minor. She mentioned that you live in Boston, is that correct?
"Yes, yes, that's right," he replied, his fingers rubbing the skin between his eyes as he fought the sudden headache that threatened to take hold as his pulse ratcheted up a notch, "but I'll be on the next flight out. Could I talk to her?"
"Yes, I can arrange that. Just give me one moment."
He mumbled out a 'thank you' before he was put on hold and he was grateful for the hand on his shoulder that promised a steadfast support, but before he could relay that message to her, he was startled by a groggy voice as it came through the speakers.
"Phil, h-honey, is that you?"
Her voice was an instant balm to his frayed nerves, but it was raspy and cracking and so very different from her usual soothing tones that he'd normally associate with his mother. "Mom, are you okay? What happened?"
"Oh, I'm alright. Just a bit banged up is all," she wheezed and he could hear her deep breaths through the receiver as she spoke. "I'm afraid the house is a bit damaged."
A humorless chuckle escaped him and he blinked away the stinging in his eyes. "I don't care about the house."
Her reply was cut off by a wince of pain and a wracking coughing fit and a wave of panic washed over him. "Mom?"
"I'll be f-fine," she replied quietly and he could just picture the way she'd be waving her arm as if to brush away his concern. "There's just no moisture in the air."
"You're a terrible liar," he commented dryly and he smiled at the low chuckle that left her. "I'm coming to see you. I'll be there by the time you wake up tomorrow."
"I'm not even going to try an argue," she huffed out with her signature, overly dramatic sigh which was both equal parts annoyance and amusement that he'd somehow inherited.
"Good. I'll see you soon," he promised. "I love you."
He could hear her grin and knew that, though he couldn't see it, she was smiling as she replied. "I love you, too."
Hanging up, he turned to meet Audrey's concerned eyes. She'd changed after her performance, her black blouse and skirt having been switched to a navy blue cocktail dress for their usual dinner reservations at the Richmond—that he'd be missing, it seemed.
"Audrey-"
"Is your mother okay?"
Phil nodded, but he could feel the guilt creeping up his spine as he stared at her. "I'm afraid that I have to go."
"I figured as much," she grinned, running her hands up his arms in a show of comfort. "Then go. The rest of the ensemble have been trying to get me to have a night out with them, so it's alright. I'll be fine here," she reassured and he knew that she was simply trying to alleviate his uneasiness as best she could.
Placing a quick kiss on her cheek, he apologized before leaving, dialing Pepper's number as he walked out of the building. He hailed a cab and directed it towards his apartment while explaining the situation to his sister, trying to relay what he knew without upsetting her, though there was little chance of that. He was on edge and, like he'd expected, she picked up on it immediately.
Hanging up the phone, he hopped out of the cab, paying the driver quickly before he jogged up the stairs as he was too fidgety to wait for the elevator. Logically, he was aware that his mother was likely fine, which had been confirmed by the sound of her voice and her doctor herself, but his emotions were far from calm and he was quite certain that they would remain unstable until he'd stepped foot into his mother's hospital room.
Throwing a random mixture of clothes in a bag and grabbing his toothbrush and a few other items, he was done packing for the unexpected trip in record time, but it was only when he heard a tiny, garbled meow, that he stopped. Cap.
The poor thing was looking at him, eyes blinking slowly as he watched his master run about frantically.
"What do I do with you, buddy?" he whispered to himself, trying to come up with a suitable alternative. He could ask Clint or Bobbi, but they'd already have to man the store while he was gone, Audrey was leaving for a performance in New York in the morning, and his mother, well, she was out of commission for the time being.
All of his usual options disqualified, his mind drifted to the little girl and her mother across the hall and of the way his cat had softened completely to the both of them. He and Melinda had spoken multiple times now and little Skye always asked about Cap when they passed in the halls, but it was already after nine in the evening and most likely, they'd have settled down for the night. Melinda, he knew, was up early during the week, as when he got up to head to the bakery at six in the morning, she was already awake, bright eyed and looking well-rested, but he was running low on options.
Dropping his hastily packed bags by the door, he stepped out into the hall and knocked lightly on her door, hoping she'd forgive him for the disturbance. For nearly a minute, he heard nothing and just when he was about to give up, he heard the lock turn and the door swung open.
Melinda looked as laid back as he'd ever seen her in a pair of yellow and gray plaid sleep shorts—that showed off her lean, gorgeous legs—and a tank top with her hair falling softly around her shoulders and a wine glass gripped lightly between her fingers.
"Well, that's certainly a better look than the pajamas when we met."
Her words brought him out of his musings as his eyes snapped up to hers. That half-smirk he now associated with her blossomed on her face as he looked down at the suit he'd donned for Audrey's performance. He wanted to smile at her comment, but he found it too difficult, and seconds later, her grin fell.
"Phil? Is something wrong?"
She was watching him closely, kind and open, but calculatingly—knowingly.
"Uh, there was a fire at my mother's home in Rhode Island and I have to go," he mumbled, looking at his watch distractedly.
He watched as concern grew on her features, her beautiful eyes widening as she listened. "Oh no. Is she alright?"
"Her doctor says it's minor, that she has some shortness of breath, but I-"
"But you need to see her with your own eyes."
The relief that swept over him at her words was substantial, the knowledge that someone understood was enough to begin chipping away at the heavy weight that now rested on his shoulders.
"Are you alright?"
He nodded quickly, surprised at her question as her eyes softened and he smiled weakly at her kind concern. "I will be. Since my dad died when I was a kid, my mom, my sister, and I, have always been really close, but when it was time for Pep and I to head out on our own, my mom couldn't bear my dad's hometown in Wisconsin, so she moved back home to Rhode Island. Too many memories, I suppose. And I-"
Phil stopped abruptly, unsure as to why he was telling her this, but the words had tumbled out heedlessly and without warning. He swallowed heavily, ending his current topic of discussion before switching back to his reason for disturbing her in the first place, though she'd seemed to be unaffected by his rambling and his appearance at her doorstep.
"I've already exhausted my other options and if I had another I wouldn't ask this of you, but there's no one else-"
"You want me to watch Cap," she replied bluntly, though not unkindly.
He gave her a sheepish grin. "He's calm around you and Skye and, though I don't know why, I'm not comfortable leaving him anywhere else. I don't have time to board him and to do so, I'd have to wait until morning and I-"
She nodded, holding up her hands in a gesture for him to stop. "Okay."
"Okay?" he asked, entirely thrown off balance. He'd expected her to need convincing, her easy acquiescence leaving him confused, but she merely nodded, brushing off his doubt. "T-thank you."
He wasn't exactly sure as to why she'd agreed, as Melinda May and little Skye seemed to keep to themselves; in the few weeks he'd lived across the hall, he'd never seen or heard another soul enter the apartment, other than the two of them, and though neither she nor her daughter seemed uncomfortable in the company of others, there was an impenetrable layer of privacy about them. And yet, here she was, opening her home to her dorky neighbor's cat and asking for nothing in return.
Wordlessly, she closed her door and crossed the hall towards his apartment and he scrambled to open the door for her in his dazed confusion. She said nothing as he grabbed everything they'd need, transferring the necessary items across the hall while she gazed around his apartment and he just barely caught the ghost of a smile on her face as his Captain America memorabilia came into view.
They found Cap easily enough and he watched as Melinda began clicking her tongue lightly, urging the perplexed cat to her. Phil chuckled as the cat bounded forwards off the pillow he'd been lounging on at her summons, obviously remembering the woman, though Phil found it difficult to believe that anyone could ever forget her, animal or otherwise.
Satisfied that they'd grabbed everything the cat might need, Melinda carried Cap across the hall and through her door, the feline obviously content to remain in her arms as he purred away, making no move to dash down the stairs in another hair-brained attempt to escape, much to his and Melinda's relief.
Her apartment was decidedly feminine, with its mint green walls and well-worn furniture, but the place was homey in a way that his was suddenly lacking. It was comfortable in its earthy colors and its touches of love, like the carefully drawn pictures in crayon that adorned her icebox, accompanied by the pictures of the smiling, happy little family the two of them made and had he had more time, he might have perused them to satisfy his unlimited curiosity, but as it was, he simply didn't have the time and so he contented himself with the brief look about the room.
"I'm so sorry to leave you with this. You, honestly, have no idea how grateful I am."
Melinda smiled, rolling her eyes. "Well, when Skye starts begging me for a kitty, you'll have to let me borrow yours from time to time."
He laughed at her comment. "Done. It's the least I can do. I mean, I don't even know how long I'll be gone. Are you sure it's fine?"
"Yes, Phil, I'm sure. I wouldn't have offered if I wasn't. Besides, Skye will be elated and Cap looks like he's already made himself feel at home."
Her words made him glance about, searching for the topic of their conversation and, sure enough, Cap had planted himself firmly upon the couch, his entire body resting comfortably on a burgundy colored throw blanket, blinking at them calmly as if he hadn't just been completely and temporarily uprooted.
Phil grumbled. "Traitor."
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