X-J9 sat outside a large oak door that seemed very out of place in Dexter's lab. She was supposed to be delivering a message; just go in, come back, real fast. It was only supposed to be a two minute thing. But here she was, sitting outside a door, listening.
Listening to the drifting sound of the piano.
Listening to the sound of a low voice singing.
Listening to the small crack in the person's voice before they continued even stronger than ever.
And listening to the distinct sound of a tear landing on the ground with a tiny and almost indistinguishable "plink", like a shard of glass falling onto hardwood.
She knocked on the door and listened to the gasp and the piano cover slam shut. Then a deep breath before the door opened and Dexter McPhearson stared up at her. His eyes showed no proof that he was just crying, but Jenny could see the small puddle of tears near the seat of the piano. She smiled at him sadly and handed him the telegram before flying out, tears threatening to fall.
The rock that was Dexter's heart could crumble sometimes, Jenny thought bitter-sweetly, but it would never show. He's strong for us.
Dexter sat still at the piano, fingers itching to move over it again. He wiped a final tear from his eye and put his glasses back on. He fingered the paper before actually reading it.
Dexter, it read.
I can hear you. Allergies again?
-Dee Dee
Dexter smiled and folded the piece of paper into a tiny square. It fell in his pocket and he put his gloves back on. "Yep. I hate allergies and air vents."