AN: I don't own Marvel. I do own some merch, though. Does that count?

Chapter 19

Back at Steve's apartment, my phone beeped, alerting me to the fact that I had several missed texts and calls. Delia called and texted me multiple times, Ava had sent a few worried texts, and even Drake had sent one or two. But the person I was really looking for didn't even try to contact me. "He probably doesn't know yet," Steve consoled, reading my thoughts as usual.

"Yeah, Carter's supposed to be in Uruguay or some place anyway. He probably isn't even near a T.V. anyway," I agreed.

Sending my three training buddies a quick text saying I was fine was harder than I thought. Delia's four texts and three voicemails almost made me cry all over again. But at the same time, a tiny part of my heart was warmed knowing that they cared about me. "We'll see you at the memorial service tomorrow," she promised in the last one.

The last message on my phone was a mass text to all SHIELD personnel from Director Fury himself. "All agents and medical staff are required to come in until further notice," I read out loud, then grabbed my purse.

"Hold your horses, doll," Steve stopped me. "You didn't finished the message. 'Unless suffering from a personal loss'. You are not going anywhere tonight."

He overrode my objections, going so far as ordering Achilles to stand between me and the door. Not that it would have done any good if I'd really tried to leave, but it did make me smile. And I was pretty sure that was his goal, anyway.

We ended up getting Indian food and watching really cheesy 80's movies. Once again, I fell asleep on the couch, wrapped in Steve's arms.

That next morning was one of the hardest in my life. Steve woke me up with another cup of hot cocoa, then directed me to his bathroom. I cried again in the shower, but this time, it was more of a gentle release, instead of the gushing torrent it had been the day before. Once out, I slipped one of Steve's shirts on to dry my hair. As I carefully curled my hair, I smiled at the memory of Dad determinedly brushing it out for me when I'd had pneumonia at twelve. He had spent over half an hour brushing it for me, making sure each and every tangle was out. Afterwards, it had smoothed into perfect ringlets that had fascinated him. After that, he'd made sure that I knew the curls were his favorite. Every time I'd had my hair curly, he would compliment me. He always made sure I knew he thought I was pretty, but the curls were his favorite. He was the main reason I'd left my hair so long.

My hair now curled to perfection, I moved on to my makeup. I made sure every lash was in place, my smoky-eyed shadow fading flawlessly, eyeliner impeccably cat-eyed. My lips were done in my best shade, and just a dusting of blush on cheeks finished it off. Then came the dress. Tasha had packed my black lace sheath dress, knowing me so well. I slipped into it, knowing I'd never be able to wear it again. Next came the black pumps, and then the pearls.

I cried a bit when I saw them, the set that had been my grandmother's. I'd never met her, but my dad told me I was just like her when he gave me the set, for my eighteenth birthday. I managed the earrings and the bracelet, but my hands were shaking too badly when it came time for the necklace. Trying and failing three times, Steve's knock at the door came just in time.

I let him in, then handed him the necklace wordlessly. He gently took my shoulders in his hands, turning me around, then slipped the strand around my neck. There was no way I could keep the tears back then. But, as he'd done every other time I had cried, Steve simply pulled me into his arms until my shuddering had stopped. "I'm here," he whispered, over and over, letting me know I was not going to be alone.

When that cry session was finally over, I stepped back and wiped my eyes gently. "How do you do that?" he asked me in awe.

"How do I do what?" I had no idea what he was talking about.

"How does your makeup look perfect still?"

"That's the beauty of waterproof makeup," I informed him. "I can cry all I want, and this stuff won't budge. Of course, it's a pain in the butt to get off, but it's a price I'm willing to pay."

"Well, you look beautiful, anyway. I'm sure he can see you, and he's loving those curls," Steve assured me with a soft smile.

I smiled back, not really able to speak after that. Then I turned back to the mirror, slipped the matching combs in my hair, and fluffed my curls one last time. Taking a deep breath, I said, "Well, this is it. How do I look?"

Thankfully, Steve took the question seriously, not immediately answering in the affirmative like most men would, just to get it over with. After a visual perusal that might have raised a slight blush in my cheeks, he finally answered. "You are stunning. Absolutely stunning."

Then, I really blushed. But, trying to play it off, I teased him. "You don't look half bad yourself, Captain Rogers." And that was an understatement. I was reminded once again of just how attractive my best friend was, standing in front of me in a crisp black suit, white shirt, and dark blue tie. A tie that was adorably skewed. "Let me fix that," I said, reaching for the offending article.

I took a moment to fix his tie, probably longer than I really needed to. Steve noticed, placing his hands over mine. "It's time to go, Em," he told me softly. "There's a car waiting for us downstairs."

Inhaling deeply again, I nodded. He smiled and hugged me again for a moment, before pulling back and holding his arm out for me. "I'll be right there beside you the whole time," he promised.

Steve led me out to the car waiting for us. The driver surprised me as he got out and held the door for us. "Thanks, Grant," I told him softly.

"I am so sorry, Emily. If there's anything I can do, please let me know," he said, gripping my arm gently for a moment.

I gave him a watery smile before sliding in. The drive to headquarters was quiet, with Steve holding my hand the entire time. It was a very good thing he was so strong, since I was gripping his hand so hard I might have broken something if it had been someone else.

It seemed like everyone in the building held their breath as we walked in. Director Fury immediately walked over to us, ignoring the awkwardness swirling around. "Dr. Coulson, Captain Rogers, there's a place for you right over here."

Fury led the way, parting the crowd like a very angry Moses. I smiled briefly at the thought, before seeing the stage area. There were four coffins and seven urns. As I saw the picture behind the first urn, my legs forgot how to work for a moment. There was my dad, his SHIELD ID picture on display over an American flag.

You can do this, I told myself sternly, commanding my legs to continue to walk. Fury led us to the front row of seats, where Clint and Tasha were already sitting with Tony, Pepper, and Banner. They all gave me hugs, except for Banner, and Tony even surprised me. "The cellist should be here any minute. Happy's bringing her from the airport."

Tears stung my eyes again at his thoughtfulness. "Thanks, Tony," was all I managed to get out, but he understood.

I settled into my seat, but people kept coming up to me to offer their condolences. Maria and Melinda came first. Maria's eyes were tinged red, but otherwise she was composed. Melinda, however, looked like normal. At least, until she hugged me of her own accord. "We've always got your back," she whispered in my ear. "You're not alone."

Her words triggered the next tears. Actually, at that point, I felt like it was just a continuous stream, slow but steady. After another hug from each woman, they left, only to be replaced by Ava, Delia, and Drake. They hugged me, and Delia cried on me, before telling me if I needed anything, they would be there.

More people stopped by me, some I knew, some I didn't. But five minutes later, I didn't think I could handle another stranger touching me, letting me know how much my dad would be missed. Didn't they think I knew that?

Steve and Tasha picked up on my mood. He wrapped his arm around my shoulders, letting me rest my head on his shoulder. She glared at anyone who looked like they might approach me. It worked, until Fury came back.

"Dr. Coulson, did you want to say a few words at the end?" he asked, looking more worn and tired than I'd ever seen him.

I shook my head quickly, but then changed my mind. "Yes, I would. Thank you, Director."

"I'll let you know when it's your turn, then."

As the Director left, another person was led to the front. "Emily?" her voice quavered.

"Audrey," I sighed, getting up to hug her.

"He's really gone, isn't he?" she asked, tears streaming down her face. At my nod, she closed her eyes. "The last time we spoke, I told him I couldn't handle the strain of long distance. He thought I didn't care about him."

"He knew. My dad knew people better than they knew themselves," I assured her. "He knew how you feel."

Pepper came over then and guided Audrey to the seat next to hers. The two women spoke quietly to each other for a moment, before Pepper put her arm around Audrey. I noticed, however, that she still didn't let go of Tony's hand.

A hush went through the crowd, bringing the already quiet room to near silence. I looked to the front, where Fury was standing. He spoke some, then Maria did, lauding the bravery of those fallen. A few others spoke about each person who'd died. Then Fury nodded at me.

I took a deep breath as Steve squeezed my shoulders and Tasha my hand. The walk to the front seemed to stretch forever, but I finally made it. "Most of you knew Agent Phil Coulson, whether personally or by reputation. You knew him as the man who would get the job done, whether it was babysitting Iron Man," here I sent a quick smile to Tony, who rolled his eyes in response, "or taking out armed robbers with only a sack of flour. But what you probably didn't know was the man behind the agent. He loved The Beatles, and Thai food. It took him three hours to learn how to simply make a call on his new smartphone. He couldn't cook to save his life, something he passed on to me. And even though he saw the most horrible ugliness this world can hold because of his job, he still managed to see the good in those around him. He saw the hero inside of an angry, self-absorbed billionaire. He saw the potential in an Army sniper who'd made mistakes, and instead of taking him out like he was ordered to, my dad brought him in and turned him into one of the best agents SHIELD has ever seen. And then he backed up that agent when he did the same thing, bringing in a KGB assassin instead of taking her out. And he saw the possibility inside of a little ten-year-old girl trying to pick his pockets. Instead of turning her into the police, he took her in and adopted her."

Tears were flowing down my cheeks, completely blurring everyone's face. But I had to go on. "Most of you know that my dad's hero was Captain America. The excitement and happiness I saw on Dad's face when we found Captain Rogers was only rivalled by the day that I officially became a Coulson. He spent most of his life trying to emulate his hero. He didn't realize that as he did so, he was becoming everyone else's hero."

I took a deep breath, then turned to his picture. "We'll miss you, Daddy."

…

The rest of the ceremony blurred by. At some point, I was presented with the flag that was draped under Dad's picture. Some more words were said, though I didn't really listen to them. And then everyone was standing up, talking to each other.

The Avengers were a very subdued group. No one wanted to be the first to say anything. Except for Tony, of course, who couldn't stand silence. "Once the Tower's rebuilt, Pepper decided that everyone should have a place there. It would kinda make things easier, you know, if we ever have to do this whole save the world thing again."

Everyone was flabbergasted, especially Pepper. "Who's idea was it?" she muttered.

"That includes you, Princess," Tony told me, ignoring his girlfriend. "Pepper thought you probably wouldn't want to stay where you are, now that, well, you know. So give us two weeks, three tops, then everyone can move in. It'll be like college all over again."

I stared at him, completely in awe of his offer. "You know, for someone who claims to not have a heart, you sure do nice things for people," Steve said, trying to hold in a smile.

"It was Pepper's idea," Tony stated, once again ignoring her huff. "But seriously, there will be three floors of empty spaces otherwise. I don't want to see it wasted." And then he walked off, pulling Pepper with him.

"Is Stark trying to make friends?" Tasha asked quizzically.

"I think so," Banner answered. "He just has a weird way of doing it."

We talked for a few more minutes, not wanting to leave each other. But Director Fury had other ideas. "Can I speak with you a moment, Dr. Coulson?"

Though it was phrased as a request, I felt like it was more of an order. So I was surprised when he opened his mouth and asked, "How are you holding up?"

I tried not to gape, but I wasn't successful. "Uh, I'm- I'm okay, sir. As well as can be expected, I suppose."

"It will get better in time," he promised. "Before this all happened, your father was planning on taking a vacation, just the two of you. He had it all planned out. A trip to Tahiti for two weeks. I want you to go on it still."

I gaped some more. "Tahiti?" That did not sound like my dad at all.

"He wanted to spend some time with you, and he figured that the best way would be to be away from everything. We have a facility down there, and he had some vacation time coming. Actually, almost all of it. So I think you should go. Just lie on a beach for two weeks and not think about anything."

"Wow. That's- Thank you, sir. That's incredible. Thank you," I gushed.

"Don't thank me just yet. I have ulterior motives for this," he said, with just a hint of a smirk.

Of course, you do, I thought to myself. Aloud, I said, "And they are?"

"I want you to be the Avengers' doctor. And before you object, saying there's more qualified people, I saw the way you handled treating them all the other day. You knew exactly how to handle each one, even Stark. I've never seen someone shut him up like that, other than your dad. You're more like him than you realize. And he would be so proud of you."

I sniffed, then nodded. "Of course, Director. I would be delighted."

"Don't say that just yet," he said, full-blown smirking. "But welcome to Level Seven Clearance, Dr. Coulson. And good luck. You're going to need it."

AN: And that's all, folks! I want to thank you all for reading this, and I promise, there will be a sequel, as well as various one-shots. The sequel will be titled "All Grown Up", and I'm going to try to have the first chapter out by this weekend. It might be a bit slower updating because I'm not entirely sure of the whole plot just yet. But it's going to start just before The Winter Soldier and go from there. I have been thinking about putting Spiderman in, mostly because I love Andrew Garfield's portrayal. Let me know what you think!

Also, I hope everyone caught the references to Agents of SHIELD at the end. If you haven't seen the pilot, watch it and then read this chapter again. And that's all I'm going to say about Coulson :D

I want to thank you all for reading this and staying with me to the end. A big shout out to all those who reviewed/favorited/followed. You seriously make me want to write more. Thanks for everything!