Sorry for the late entry, peeps. Happy Easter! 'Tis finally my weekend off, so I'm looking to get another chapter up for you tomorrow. Things are getting tense! First part inspiration: Chapter inspiration: Gone by Floex. Enjoy.

It was past ten. On any normal night, Audrey would have kicked off her heels, pulled on the soft gray sweater she'd worn holes into and curled up on the couch. A mug of Earl Gray and her copy of Grapes of Wrath were her evening comforts. They took her out of the world like her music had. They made her leave behind all of the terrible thoughts of yesterday and the days to come. She didn't have any of those things now.

There were people in her house. She only recognized the one woman, May, she'd called herself. The man with her looked official, his square draw and straight gaze screamed FBI to her. The only one who seemed out of place was the younger woman. She didn't talk like law enforcement or any kind of government agent. And since they'd gone with her back to her flat, there had been a heavy tension lingering among them like death looming over a wake.

She'd invited them into the living room although she hated any part of that past interfering with her present. May had shattered her world that day. And then she'd vanished, like some kind of angel of darkness bringing terrible news. And now, just when Audrey finally felt the pieces were all set back in their proper places, she showed up again with an earth shattering atom bomb of information.

"He's…alive?" She could hardly say the words out loud. Every inch of her body felt like it was about to break into tremors.

May didn't say anything. She didn't even make eye contact.

The man stepped in, Ward, she thought he'd said his name was. "He's been on special assignment ever since his recovery. Undercover."

As if that makes it any easier to digest, she thought to herself. It felt like thousands and thousands of windows in her head were closing all at once. The air was stale and the dim lights only hurt her eyes more. The exhaustion tugged at her like a drug trying to negotiate her into sleep. Hollowness crept up inside her in those next few moments. She imagined that every inhale she took was like a lonely string of wind gusting through a narrow space. Why was it so hard to breathe? Why was it so hard for her to close her eyes and not see his face there?

The first few months had been wretched. Every face out of the corner of her eyes became Phil until she faced them. A laugh heard from a distance with the same pitch made her immediately spin around and search, eyes darting, hoping to see his familiar smile. But it had never been him. It was never going to be him.

She stared at May and shook her head. "You said he was dead."

"Because I had been told he was," May said, her dark eyes searching Audrey's. "I honestly didn't know."

But Audrey couldn't believe that. How could she even believe that they were telling her the truth? It was easier to think that he was dead and gone. It was easier to imagine that her love and the hope it had floated on had sunk like an old ship long ago. It had been easier to take her heart, lock it up in a little box, and bury it under six feet of dirt. It had been the hardest thing ever for her to dig it back up again and entrust it to someone else.

While they all stood there strangely in her living room, she knew that Michael was about to be home any moment. He'll have had a long day. He'll be tired. He won't understand what's going on. And I really, really don't want to explain.

But what she couldn't get passed was that if this was all really true, then Phil had allowed their job to come between them. He had ended this himself, put the final stake in the coffin of their relationship. She'd known it couldn't have lasted too much longer. But she'd still craved that connection. She still loved hearing his voice at the end of every week when they called one another. She missed imagining his infectious smile and mostly, the way he told her he'd be seeing her soon. She liked that; the promise of rekindling something.

No. Not now though. It was too late.

"Why?" she asked, her skin growing hot.

"Why what?" the younger one they called Skye asked.

"Why did you come all the way out here to tell me?"

"Because we thought you'd want to know," the younger woman said, offense stinging her tone. "Because we thought you'd care."

"Don't vilify me," Audrey said quickly, cutting off Skye. "You don't know what I've been through and for the record, I care very much."

May stepped in front of Skye. "We came because Phil is in trouble and he needs your help."

Audrey couldn't help but scoff. "He needs my help?" she repeated. She didn't understand. This had to be a prank, a sadistic and cruel prank being played. Phil had always shown her that he was adept at taking care of himself. He kept his work to himself, never brought it home to them and always made her feel as if what they had together existed in its own unique and perfect world. His job was a distant planet and so was hers. And while they sometimes orbited close to one another, the bad things about them never interfered with their relationship. Until she'd had to move anyway…

"Phil suffered a mental breakdown," May said softly.

The words made Audrey feel cold. She couldn't imagine it. She couldn't see Phil losing himself like that. "What do you mean exactly?" she asked even though she wasn't sure she wanted to know.

"He…" May started and drifted off. "He tried to…"

Audrey didn't need her to finish that sentence. The implication was there, the terrible tone in her voice that made Audrey want to take back everything that had happened, everything she'd done, every tear she'd shed. He was alive. And he didn't want to be alive. If her insides hadn't already felt cracked, they most certainly were now.

"Why me?" she said although she already knew. Even through all of the pain she'd suffered after hearing about his death, she'd still treasured him, mourned him and carried him with her. And while a large part of her wanted to save herself from enduring anymore of that pain, she knew the bigger thing to do, the more important thing, was to ensure he was safe. To touch him. To hold him in her arms and know that he hadn't passed away and become air. She needed to do this for herself just as much as to do it for him.

"He was on his way out here to see you," Ward explained. "He left a good few hours ahead of us."

Audrey frowned. "Was on his way here," she repeated, catching Ward's phrasing. "What happened? Where is he?"

"We're not sure," May said. "There are people who don't want him to make it out here."

She shook her head. "I don't understand. Why? What has he gotten himself into?"

May sighed and Audrey could tell that there was even more to this already gut-wrenching conversation. But before May could speak, a door opened at the front of the house and she heard keys jingling.

Ward, Skye, and May all tensed, their eyes searching for hiding spots and potential weapons. But Audrey put up her hands and said, "It's alright."

A second later, Michael walked in, briefcase still in hand. The minute his gray eyes settled on the other people in the room he froze. "Audrey, what's going on? Who are these people?"

Audrey followed May's gaze. It had settled on Michael's hand. He was wearing an engagement band. And then she stared at Audrey's.

She'd taken it off to play the cello. Something about having it on her finger made her feel constricted, unable to unleash herself to the sounds. And when May had confronted her about Coulson, she couldn't put it back on. She could hardly breathe, knowing she'd given up on Coulson and the pain and tried to find some semblance of normalcy, even if it felt rushed.

She had told Michael all about Phil and her relationship with him, and Michael had been caring and emotionally supportive of her. But she'd always sensed their relationship had developed too quickly, and that it had been mostly at her insistence. She had wanted to leave those horrible thoughts and feelings behind. She had wanted to try and forget. She wanted an eraser and a new beginning. She'd been so scared.

"Michael, these people are with S.H.I.E.L.D.," she said calmly, despite the flurry of thoughts crowding her head. "They have news about Phil. He's alive."

"Can you not—" Dr. Garcia shouted, as the car swerved around an RV on the road. "Could you please drive a little more…"

"What?" Stark said. "This isn't safe enough for you? We're wearing seatbelts."

"Well, just saying, it would be a terrible pity if we got into a car accident before we could reach your friend," Garcia muttered, his fist clenched around the car's "oh-shit" handle above the door and the other clenching his medical bag in his lap.

Stark rolled his eyes. "We're not going to crash."

But this traffic is ludicrous for this time of the night… he thought, glancing at all the cars. You'd think there was a One Direction concert out here or something.

"How much further is it?"

"Almost…there."

Garcia cleared his throat. "Mr. Stark, I'm not sure I understand why you've done what you did for our clinic."

"Geez, no one can just accept a gift as a gift. They have to analyze it to death."

"That may be so, but you'll have to admit, it's rather peculiar."

"I'm a peculiar person. And anyone who tells you I'm not obviously hasn't spent more than a minute in the same room with me."

Garcia scoffed. "I'm starting to get that."

"There!" Stark pointed to lights off to the left. "There it is."

The turn came up quicker than he anticipated and he barely had time to slow the car down as he swerved it off the road and down into the dirt parking lot. Garcia screamed as the car spun slightly against the dirt. Tony killed the engine and wrenched open his door. "Let's go! Shake a leg, Doc!"

Garcia timidly climbed out of the car, kit in hand, and followed Stark to the motel room closest to them.

Stark barged in the door. Darwin jumped up from his spot by the bed, eyes wide. "Jesus, Stallone, what are you trying to do? Give me another heart murmur?"

"Now we're even."

Tony nearly lost his breath when he looked at the bed.

Coulson was writhing in pain, his face twisted and white as a sheet.

"Where the hell have you been anyway? You said you'd be back before dark —it's after midnight!" Darwin continued.

Stark ignored him. "What happened?"

"He's been like this for the last couple hours. Helluva fever. There wasn't much more I could do."

"Doc!" Tony called to Garcia who was still standing behind them. "Get over here."

Garcia maneuvered around Darwin and ran to Coulson's side.

"Listen, Stallone, come here. I need to talk to you." Darwin put a hand on Tony's arm.

Tony brushed him off. "How bad is it, Doc?"

Garcia was trying to unwrap the bandage while Coulson bucked against him. "Please, someone hold him down."

Stark moved to the other side of the bed and put his hands on Coulson's shoulders.

"Stop!" Coulson pleaded. "I'm begging you. Please let me die!"

"It's okay, Phil. You're safe. You're not there. You're alright," Stark tried to calm him.

Garcia peeled the bandage away. "It's septic. We're going to need to drain it, clean it—"

"Stallone, it's important," Darwin said.

"Not now!"

"—going to be in extreme pain while we do this. It's important that we do this quickly." Garcia looked around the room. "We should move him to a more sterile environment."

"He can't go anywhere," Stark reiterated.

"Then can we at least have some better lighting? It feels like we're doing this in someone's basement."

Stark turned to Darwin. "Can you find us some lamps or something?"

Darwin waved his arms. "Stallone—"

"They could be lava lamps and they'd still do the job."

"Stallone!" he finally shouted.

"What?!" Stark stood up.

"I've been trying to tell you that I've seen four helicopters go overhead in the last few hours. In fact, I saw one fly overhead not long after you came squealing into the parking lot." Darwin's eyes pierced his. "I think whoever you two are trying to hide from...they're sniffing pretty damn close."

Stark's eyes widened. He hadn't thought about it when he got back, the fact that the suit wasn't waiting for him or that JARVIS hadn't been in contact for nearly an hour. He wasn't sure if JARVIS had done everything he'd asked, but it was a certainty that S.H.I.E.L.D. had gotten hold of the iron suit. And that meant he was defenseless if they had tracked him here.

"Damn it."

And then, as if by magic, a blinding light flooded in from outside, encompassing the room in white.

It's over, Stark realized. S.H.I.E.L.D. found us.

Cliff-hangery hangerness. Stay tuned for Chapter 21.