A/N: Hey! A short follow-up for 'Mother's Instincts', but can be read separately. (See end for more notes.)
Disclaimer: I don't own anything.
"When other girls were dreaming about love, she dreamt of love too, but in an entirely different context - the ones they took for granted."
― Donna Lynn Hope
•
She didn't know when her birthday was. If she was born in the spring or the fall, whether it was a sunny day or a rainy one. She didn't know if she was born in the middle of the week, or on the weekend. She wondered whether she born during the during the morning as the sun rose towards the sky, or in the middle of the night when the clock struck midnight.
Skye never knew what her name originally was. If hers was long, or if it was short. If her parents followed any naming traditions, or if they didn't have any at all. She wondered if she had a nickname. Or if her name was easy to pronounce. She thought about the possibilities in her head, wondering if it was common or unusual, if it had significance to her parents, or they just fell in love with the name.
She always wondered if she had any other family out there. If somewhere she had a grandmother who she could bake cookies with, or an uncle who would spoil her rotten. She had always hoped she had an aunt who would offer to take her shopping at the mall, and at night she dreamt of a mother who would wrap in her arms and help her through her heartbreak.
She didn't know if her parents were alive. She had wondered where they lived, or what they did for a living. She dreamt her father was a manager and her mother was a stay-at-home mom, free to spend as much time with her, and do lots of girly stuff. She could never figure out what their names were. Or if they even wanted her. For all she knew they could've abandoned her. She couldn't say the thought hadn't crossed her mind. It had, several times. But two initials and one sentence was all she needed to turn a deaf ear, and continue her search for her parents.
She'd always been teased about the precious item she clung to so tightly for the fear it would be taken away like everything else in her life. Everyone around her told her it was worthless, and after years of wear and tear it was. It was just damaged metal– no one would buy it. It was carefully crafted, formed in a perfect circle, with the original form intact, but the silver had been stained, and droplets of blood now decorated the surface. The personalized inscription had become next to impossible to read, and the letters had become to fade away, just like her childhood. She knew nothing would fix it, but it didn't matter because it was everything to her.
It was her only piece she had left of her parents. It was damaged, but so was she. She'd taken her fair share of beating, had plenty of let downs, been turned away many times, even thought of giving up on her search, but she never could. Just like her necklace. Nothing could replace it. It was a token of remembrance and the only path to tracking down the missing guardians in her life. It was all she ever wanted, why she couldn't bear to throw out the necklace. It brought her closer to her parents. It kept her going on the path to find them.
Her search would've never ended, but her hope would've a long time ago. It would never be, not until she found them. She could never stop the dying urge to find out who her parents were, what they were like, but with every dead she hit, she started a new path. Began a new journey, one which would be long, and was full of uncertainty, and the ending had no guarantee, she could wind up back at the beginning again, but it was worth it– for the chance. She thought about her parents every day, she thought about what happened, how they got separated. It had to of been something terrible, unexplainable–she never believed it could've been something as simple as they abandoned her. There had to be an explanation, even if it was they were alcoholics, and they thought giving her up was her best chance.
The possibilities never ended; her mind never stopped swirling.
Her fingers brushed over the cold metal belonging to the necklace as the pads of her thumbs rounded the smooth, round edges. Two letters laid engraved on the metal, her nails scrapping the hardened surface as they tried to dodge the blood splotches surrounding the printed letters.
MP.
Mallory Price? Megan Park? The number of possible combinations was on-going. Another question without an answer.
The chains rattled through the air, swaying back and forth, the pieces of metal clanking against one another as the necklace twisted around on its cord. Her fingers traced over the black arrow, the triangle pointing to the right, acting as a divider. Right above it, her fingers stopped millimeters from the words forever engraved in her mind. The ones she read every day and every night when she was just a child, the ones she whispered to herself like a prayer.
I love you, baby bird.
Those words were the most important words she had ever read, and would ever. She knew, and would always, no matter what, regardless of what anyone told her, her parents cared for her.
It was five simple words, just a simple 'I love you' that most children wouldn't care about, but they were the most important words she had ever read. The words told her everything she needed to know. Her parents cared for her; they loved her.
The knock startled her, and the pendent fell from her hands, hitting the ground with a soft thud. She cursed and collapsed to her knees, quickly picking it up. She half-listened to Ward as he filled her in, letting her know they had a mission briefing. Skye dismissed him, her eyes never leaving the piece of jewelry in her hand as she began to use her sleeve to brush off the necklace. She hadn't anticipated the speckles of crusted blood falling off the pendent and onto the ground. She sighed. It wasn't damaged, at least as far as could tell at first glance. Her eyes scanned the metal pendent, and they stopped when they came across the inscription. She reread it three times to be sure. This wasn't the first time she thought she read the inscription wrong, but it was the first time she was certain about the what she read.
All those nights she laid wide-awake wondering about what her name was, that lead she thought she had had been wrong all along. Her initials were never MP, they were MB. Just covered up by the blood, and the scratches.
She didn't know how long she stayed crouched down on the floor, leering at the necklace she clutched tightly in her hands. She didn't even hear the knock on the door, it was almost as if she had fallen into a trance, only being broken when the door slid open, and a voice spoke aloud.
"Skye, Coulson's waiting," Ward said.
She turned to him. Mission. Right.
"Are you alright?"
Skye smiled, her eyes connecting with the pendent; she was more than alright. She would find her parents one day, and now she had a place to start.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed. Review!
I will be adding another story to the series 'A Parent's Responsibility'. It's called 'A Parent's Defense', it's a multi-chapter crossover-fic, and I'll be uploading a summary to my profile page soon. The story is almost complete, I'm finishing the ending now.