It was slow going. Informing social services was definitely a mistake as they sent their own investigators to question a now terrified Fitz. Their intention was to remove the boy from Sheffield and return him to Glasgow placing him in foster care or an institute until they could contact a family member. It took everything and everyone Phil knew to prevent that from happening. He pulled a lot of strings to assure he and Melinda would be assigned the kid's temporary caregivers. Mack, Bobbi and her friend Hunter continued their own investigation, but Fitz had once again clammed up tight and refused to discuss anything about the situation.

While the investigations of Phil's security firm and the local social services continued to come up empty, their inquiries were enough to let James Grant find what he had been looking for since his meal ticket had disappeared a few weeks ago. He made his way to Sheffield and had no problem finding the Simmons residence. He stood across the street in the dim shadows created by the many trees and overgrown hedgerow of that property. He took one long last drag on his cigarette, dropped it to the ground and crushed it into the dirt with his well-worn boot. The man ran his hand through his long dark greasy hair and let out a half sigh-half growl.

Jamie Grant had to get that kid before he talked, before he gave anyone any idea about trying to find out what happened to Emilie. Yeah the kid had believed his story about his mum going off to look for work, wanting to make a better life for them. The little git even fell for his ruse about meeting her in London, but he saw the way the kid looked at him. That brat was too smart for his own good and he would put it together. He'd figure it out, but he'd get to him first and make sure he kept his smart-aleck little mouth shut.

He hadn't killed Emilie…not really. He just helped put her out of her misery. He knew she was sick and getting sicker. The coughing had become so intense and although she hid the blood from the kid, he was sure her time was limited. When she became too weak even to feed herself, he just did nothing. The kid tried, lord he tried…gave her weak tea and broth…like that would do any good. He snickered in spite of himself. When he found her practically lifeless on the floor of the bath he simply helped her along a bit, snapped her neck, rolled her in an old blanket, took her out to the middle of the river and well with enough weights she'd sink in that filthy water and with any luck become wedged in the sludge that made up its bottom. In any case, no one would ever find her and the only one that would ever miss her was that grubby little brat.

But the kid was clever and quick. He could pick a pocket, snag a purse or lift any item from the mall faster and smoother than he'd ever been able to do, faster and smoother than anyone he knew. And he was puny and uselessly cute. No one ever suspected that innocent little pixie face. Best of all he was easily manipulated and terrified of the tales and threats he'd levied on him in the time he'd taught him his trade. Leopold Fitz was the best thing that ever happened to him. The kid did the work and he reaped the benefits and if the kid got caught there was nothing to connect them…unless he talked and Grant would make sure that would never happen.

He paced back and forth debating on how to grab the kid. There were always so many people coming and going from that damn house. There were two women; the dark haired one seemed to be in charge. Everyone jumped when she spoke. There were also two, sometimes three, men. Two were scrawny by his observation but the third was a giant and definitely one he had no desire to tangle with for any reason. And there was another kid, a girl who looked to be around the same age as the boy. He rarely saw one without the other and never without at least one of the adults. Dammit, it was like the kid had a personal guard. Maybe trying to snatch him wasn't the best idea. He knew the social busybodies were looking for the kid's family. So if Uncle Jamie showed up…

Jemma stared at the little black whiskers that lined her right palm. They were fascinating. She couldn't help taking off the bandage that Melinda changed every day just to look at the tiny knots that held together her torn hand. After four days it didn't really hurt much, in fact it kind of itched a bit but she forced herself not to touch the incision. She knew bacteria could invade the injury and create a condition called sepsis and that could be deadly. She carefully rewrapped her hand and replaced the small strips of adhesive tape to hold it there.

"How do you keep looking at that?" Fitz grimaced and shivered as he walked around Jemma into her bedroom.

Jemma jumped a bit and turned to face him. "Fitz," she breathed a sigh of relief. "You shouldn't sneak up on people like that."

"I did not sneak up on you." He countered. "I just walked in. You were so interested in your bloody wounded hand you didn't so much as hear me."

She smiled. "Oh, but Fitz, it's so interesting. How do they tie such tiny knots and why doesn't the thread rip the skin and how…"

Fitz held up a hand and threw the other over his mouth as he lurched forward with an exaggerated gag. His face grew pale and he squeezed his eyes shut. "Why would you even want to look at such a thing?" He wailed in disbelief.

"It's science, Fitz, medicine. Isn't it so interesting? I'm going to ask Dr. Fletcher when he takes out…" she stopped and raised her eyebrows. "Oh Fitz, do you want to come? Do you want to watch him remove the sutures?"

"You are mental!" He shouted, taking a step back. "I bloody had to sit and watch them sew you back together. I'll not be there to bloody well watch again!"

Before the girl could respond Bobbie stepped into the room. "What is all the arguing about? I can hear you two from the stairs." She smiled at the look on the children's faces then turned to Fitz. "You really need to watch your language, laddie." Both children giggled at her attempt to imitate the boy's brogue.

A second later both were recounting their conversation in rapid fire, neither taking a breath or seeming to notice the other was speaking as well.

The woman held up a hand and made a vain attempt to silence the pair but ended up merely ushering both out of the room and back down to the kitchen for lunch.

"How long will Aunt Mel be gone?" Jemma asked as she slid on to the chair and pulled a napkin onto her lap. "Will she be back before I see Dr. Fletcher to have my sutures removed?"

Fitz slapped a hand to his forehead and plopped down on the chair opposite the little girl. "Again with the bleedin' sutures," he drew out the last word mocking Jemma's comment. "I think you did that to yourself on purpose just to have the damn things put in."

"Don't say damn, Fitz." Bobbie and Jemma stated together without missing a beat.

The boy shook his head, turned up one side of his mouth and wiggled into a more comfortable position on his chair. He lifted the corner of the sandwich on the plate in front of him and sniffed quickly then smiled as he picked up half and took a bite. He set it down and chewed vigorously.

Jemma picked up one of the quarters of her sandwich and took a small bite watching as Fitz took a second bite before he had swallowed the first. Both his cheeks bulged with what he chewed. "You're going to choke yourself." She commented after swallowing her tiny morsel.

"And you'll still be eating lunch at supper time." The boy mumbled around the food in his mouth spitting crumbs in all directions.

Jemma grimaced and pulled her head back in disgust then turned toward Bobbi who had seated herself at the table between the combatants. Before she could ask, Bobbi answered her question. "Your aunt and uncle should be home by tomorrow afternoon."

"Do you think they'll have good news?" Jemma asked quietly as she moved the food around on her plate and took a second nibble of her sandwich. She still was not eating very much and did her best to hide that fact.

Fitz had finished the first half of his sandwich and was digging into the second. He opened his mouth to take a large bite but stopped at Bobbi's glare and took a gulp of tea instead. He knew they were talking about him. He knew Phil and May were trying to find out about him, but he also knew he needed to keep quiet. He remembered all of Grant's threats. He unconsciously covered his right ear remembering the pain and the incessant ringing after the man had smacked his head so hard he was sure he'd never hear again. It still hurt every now and then if he turned his head a certain way, but that was another secret he'd keep.

"And I don't see Dr. Fletcher until Friday, so she will be here then…to go with me?"

Fitz smirked a bit behind his sandwich. Crazy-'I love my little stitches-Jemma sounded scared. Maybe she wasn't totally daft after all. He thought again about the Coulsons and hoped they might find his ma, but they were in Busby and Grant said she went to London. He and Grant were there almost a month and they hadn't found her, but Phil seemed very good at his job so maybe…

"Fitz…" Jemma's voice startled him. He looked down and saw his sandwich was gone though he didn't remember finishing it. "Do you or do you not want a fairy cake? Bobbi was kind enough to bring them from the baker."

Fitz blinked a few times and nodded as Bobbie set a plate on the table. He reached for one of the sweets. "Can I have two?" He smiled batting his eyes at the tall blond.

"I think one is more than enough," Bobbie smiled back. "You can save the other for after dinner."

The boy huffed and sat back in his chair. But pulled himself back to the table and dug into his treat when both Bobbie and Jemma laughed at his plight. He knew Jemma wouldn't eat any of the little cakes, so he and Hunter could finish them off before bedtime. He opened as wide as possible, took the biggest bite his skinny nine-year-old mouth could manage and succeeded in chomping half the cupcake.

Bobbi shook her head. "I can't believe how much of a bad influence Hunter has been already."

It took every coin in his pocket to get himself cleaned up and purchase proper clothing but James Grant stared at his reflection in the shop window and smiled. Gone was the scruffy beard and greasy hair, he couldn't believe the cost of a respectable shave and haircut. What was left got him a second hand suit and a pair of shoes that didn't quite fit, but all in all he'd make a fine impression. He'd march right up to that fancy little cottage and knock on the door, tell them he was the boy's only relative and they'd be on their way before dark. He knew exactly what to use to get that damn kid to comply. He patted his inside pocket just to make sure it was still there.

He'd have to get a cab to get to the place, couldn't just walk up with no explanation as to how he got there. Beside that he needed a means to get away. Pinching a few billfolds was risky but he managed and within the hour he was on his way.

Hunter sounded more like a teenager in a battle with his mom as he bargained for pizza for supper. "Come on Bob, May's not here. She'll never know we didn't feed the little nippers that healthy fodder she's always forcing on them. They could use a break."

Fitz listened from the hallway and couldn't help giggle at Hunter's exploits. He looked back at Jemma who sat in the parlor with a large book in her lap and shrugged his shoulders signaling that their childlike friend had not yet succeeded in his mission. She responded by crossing her fingers and waving them at him. As the discussion from the kitchen moved toward the parlor Fitz scurried into the room and bounced over the arm of the settee snatching up the book that he had been looking at before he moved to hear the conversation a bit better. As the couple reached the doorway a loud rap at the door silenced their argument.

"I'll do the flying and the buying…" Hunter called after Bobbi as she walked toward the front door. "I'll even take the little rascals with me if you like."

Bobbi turned and held up a finger toward him, silently warning him to stop as she reached to open the door. She stepped back at the sight of the gentleman who greeted her. Hunter stopped as well and moved to stand behind her.

The tall slender man slid off his sunglasses and folded them before tucking them inside his dark suit jacket. He smiled broadly and extended his hand.

Bobbi hesitated, wary of a stranger showing up at anytime…anywhere. It was just her nature. She looked at the hand and narrowed her eyes. Hunter stepped between them before she could respond.

"Something I can help you with, mate?" He asked without emotion, giving the man's hand a weak shake.

The man withdrew his hand and flashed a toothy grin. "I apologize for just showing up unannounced, but I've only just gotten back to London."

"Well that's splendid." Hunter quipped raising an eyebrow. "And you're here soliciting for the next election then are you? Well, we really are not interested, mate, so you can j…"

"I'm looking for family." The man interrupted.

"You're a relative of Benjamin Simmons?" Bobbi asked stepping next to Hunter. She wasn't sure she should be the one giving the man the tragic news…but maybe he already knew. It had been almost a month since… She glanced over her shoulder at Jemma, who was watching intently. She did not want the little girl to have to relive any of that tragedy, not when she had come so far.

"Simmons?" The man looked surprised, confused by the question as if he didn't know how to answer. He tried to look around the couple standing in his way and shuffled from foot to foot nervously.

Hunter and Bobbi exchanged a quick suspicious glance. Something was off about this guy.

The man rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger and took a deep breath. He smiled. "Let me start again. My name is Jamie Fitz and I'm looking for my nephew."

The couple froze staring at the man until Bobbi called over her shoulder. "Hey kids, how 'bout you go upstairs and read for a bit." The moans of protest were not unexpected. Hunter stifled a laugh. Bobbi gritted her teeth and pulled the door behind her closed just enough to block the man's view of the children and vice versa. "You want to give them a little encouragement." She frowned at Hunter who raised his eyebrows and pointed toward his chest in a 'me?' gesture. Narrowed eyes and pursed lips answered his unspoken question.

"Sure, Bob," He huffed as he looked toward the man in the doorway. "I'll be right back."

With that he stepped away and into the parlor, quickly gathering the books from Fitz and Jemma and urging them toward the stairs despite their protests.

"I don't want to go up there with her." Fitz moaned. "She'll be just that close to the washroom and want to be all looking at her bloody hand again." He stomped up the steps ahead of Hunter and the girl.

Jemma giggled as Hunter wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "No, no Jemma promises she won't do anything of the sort. Right, love?" She nodded at the man and hurried to catch up with Fitz.

"Come on, Fitz, I've got a 3D puzzle of the Great Pyramid. You'd like to help with that won't you?" She asked as if she was involved the ploy to get him out of earshot.

Hunter smiled as watched as the two walked the length of the hall and turned into Jemma's room. He waited until the heard the sound of the door shutting, turned and took two steps at a time back to the door.

Bobbie and Jamie Fitz hadn't made much progress. He told her he'd been away in Belfast on business and had returned a week ago. He'd been trying to locate his family since and had found out from social services that Leo was in Sheffield.

"Little odd they didn't tell us you were coming." Bobbi was saying as Hunter stepped back into view. She stood with her arms across her chest, her eyes narrowed as she looked at the man with her head tilted just a bit. Hunter knew that look and he didn't trust this bloke either.

"I didn't tell them I was coming…it was…was kind of a spur of the moment thing." Jamie stuttered suddenly feeling this wasn't going as well as he expected. Whoever these people were they were quite good at interrogation. He fought the urge to run realizing, or perhaps just guiltily fearing they were some sort of police. The woman was a Yank, for sure and the other had a familiar accent but looked way too grubby to be a proper constable. He thought about it again and after a moment of uncomfortable silence, he continued. "Perhaps I should come in so we can get this all sorted." He stepped forward, blocked by Hunter who did the same.

"I don't think that's such a good idea, mate. We don't know you from Adam and you just show up on our doorstep and figure we'll just send you off with the boy. Maybe you should just get on your bike, then." Hunter took a more defensive stance and the man stepped back.

"Hunter, where are you're manners?" Bobbi crooned placing a hand on his arm. "I think we should give him a chance to explain." The man stepped forward again but was met with Bobbi's finger on his chest. "There's a cozy little gazebo right around the corner of the house, we can all use the fresh air." She pointed in that direction. "You go right over and get comfortable. We'll get some cold drinks and meet you there." She pushed him gently with the palm of her hand closing the door with the other.

Hunter turned toward her in a beat. "Have you totally lost your bloody mind, girl?" He threw his hands up and took a few steps away then turned and walked back. "That bloke is up to no good and you damn well know that as sure as I do." His voice almost squeaked with his fury.

"Shhh," Bobbi warned looking toward the stairs, "and watch your mouth, no wonder Fitz sounds like a truck driver!" She turned back and pushed the curtain on the door to the side watching as the man calling himself Jamie Fitz nervously sat at the table in the gazebo. "What does he want with Fitz? His uncle…never…I don't trust him." She was speaking more to herself that to Hunter. "He looking for something or he wouldn't be here, no sense letting him get away until we know what he knows." She spoke quietly, turned and smiled at Hunter. "Grab a couple beers from the cooler and we'll see just what we can get out of him."

Fitz stood and looked through the sheer curtains on Jemma's bedroom window. He fingered a small triangular piece. "Do you know who that gent is there talking to Bobbi and Hunter?"

Jemma knelt on the floor in front of the puzzle they had managed to almost complete. She looked from the piece in her hand to the pyramid and then back. "I think you have the piece I need," she answered.

The boy walked over, squatted down and popped the small piece into place. "Do you?" He asked again. Jemma shook her head and snapped the piece she held next to the one Fitz had just placed. Going back to the window the boy peered out but could only see the man's shoulder and the side of his leg, the rest was blocked by the hedge and the roof of the small pergola.

Behind him he heard three quick snaps and Jemma exclaimed it was complete before he felt her standing next to him. "I'm sure I don't know him." She shrugged.

"How can you tell? You can't even see his face?" He growled.

"Oh don't get all grumpy. I didn't recognize his voice when he spoke to Bobbi. I have perfect auditory recollection." She smiled back.

He looked at her for a beat. "Is that even a real thing?"

"Well it's actually called eidetic auditory memory, but I was trying to simplifying it for you."

"I know what eidetic memory is. Do you think I'm a duffer?" Now he sounded insulted.

Jemma hung her head and for a moment it seemed as though she would cry. She looked up slowly and spoke quietly. "I'm sorry, Fitz. Sometimes I just don't think before I say something. I never meant to hurt you."

The boy let out a heavy breath. "It's okay. But just remember I know things too. I'm not a dimwit."

She gave a small smile and quick nod as they both turned back to observe the adults below.

"Well I can sympathize with you, Mr. Fitz, but you have to understand that without some sort of verification we can't just hand Leo over to you." Bobbi stated before taking a long draw on her beer. "After all, how do we know you don't mean the boy harm?" She posed the question to gage his reaction.

The man shuffled his feet and squirmed in his chair. They were trying to trick him, trap him in his lies. He was smarter than they thought, he wasn't about to fall for their ploy. "I don't see how you can keep me from my own family." His voice now had an edge that was not lost on the well trained security agents.

"Where exactly did you say Leo's mother, your sister, is?" Bobbi asked for what seemed like the tenth time, each time he had sidestepped the question. The calm in her voice did nothing to quell Grant's building fury. "It seems so strange that his mother isn't with you, him being gone for so long?"

The man stood quickly, knocking the chair over behind him. "What difference does it make where she is? I'm here!" Now he was shouting, both hands balled into tight fists. "She's a bloody addict, can't do right by the lad, never has." He leaned forward and slammed both hands on the small table they shared. "She's gone off and probably gotten herself totally caned, if she's not lying dead with a needle in her arm in some damn alley!" He slammed both hands a second time and pushed himself away exhaling loudly. His eyes flashed.

Neither Bobbi nor Hunter reacted to his anger, but simply continued to sip their drinks. Sure the guy was upset and putting on a good show, but he wasn't a threat. Either could take him easily. On the other hand, even if it turned out he was Leo's uncle, the man was violent, hostile and short tempered. Certainly not a trait looked for in placing a child with a guardian.

James spun away from the couple staring toward the road with his hands on his hips. He took several deep breaths. This had gotten out of control and was going nowhere. It would not be as easy to get the kid as he planned. He ran his hand through his hair and tried to calm himself before turning back. "Look, I just want to take my nephew home. The boy's been through bloody hell." He was trying desperately and failing to control his ire.

Bobbi smiled and put down the beer she was nursing, "and again, Mr. Fitz, without proper paperwork that is not going to happen."

"We can make a few calls to the agencies in Glasgow. I'm sure they can help, probably send someone out straight away. That is if you don't mind the wait. There's a pub down the way a bit, you can take up there and we'll have them come get you." Hunter added.

"If Leo's mother made you his guardian they should have no problem granting you custody, but until then he'll be safe with us." Bobbi assured him almost sarcastically.

This time the man slammed his fist into the table and pointed a finger at her. "You haven't heard the last from me!" He spat through his teeth before grabbing the small table and sending it across the yard with one hard shove. He turned and stormed back toward the road disappearing behind the hedgerow.

Hunter took a long drink, slowly took the bottle from his lips and pointed it toward Jamie's exit. "That bloke has got a mean temper."

"But not the boy," Bobbi finished looking toward the two children watching from the upstairs window.

Fitz was a bit quieter than usual the rest of the evening, barely ate supper and had no interest in the leftover fairy cakes, even when Hunter threatened to eat all of them by himself. When Bobbi announced bedtime the boy's normal bartering for ten more minutes was forgotten. He climbed the stairs slowly, dressed for bed and climbed into the small cot that Phil had placed in Jemma's room for him. By the time Jemma crawled into her bed and Bobbi came to say goodnight he was turned toward the wall and softly snoring. Bobbi tucked the covers around him and patted his shoulder knowing already that the boy resisted most affection.

"Perhaps he's not feeling well." Jemma surmised as Bobbi straightened the covers on her bed. "He was acting a bit odd this afternoon."

Bobbi pulled the blanket up to Jemma's chin and sat on the side of her bed. "Odd how?" She asked softly.

"He repeatedly asked if I knew the man you and Hunter were speaking with in the garden. I told him no several times, but he kept asking. And he just wouldn't move from the window. When the man stomped away he looked like he would cry. I even thought then he might be ill, but he just got all quiet." She looked toward him. "I do hope he isn't coming down with something dreadful. I don't think he cares very much for Dr. Fletcher."

Bobbi patted the girl's hand and stood. "Don't worry about Fitz, honey. We'll make sure he's safe and healthy. May and Coulson will be back tomorrow hopefully with some good news and we can get all of this settled. Until then Hunter, Mack and I will make sure we don't have to worry about any strangers showing up here." She placed a kiss on the forehead of the little girl she had grown very fond of in a very short period of time. "Good night, sweetie, see you in the morning."

Bobbi flicked off the light and pulled the door closed behind her. Jemma blinked a few times as her eyes adjusted to the darkness and turned on her side. "Good night, Fitz." She smiled before closing her eyes.

Fitz awoke hours later pulled from restless sleep by the same nightmare that haunted his every night. James Grant was chasing him, always a few feet behind and then his legs would freeze. He wanted to run, he knew he could but his legs would not move. It was as if they had turned to stone. Grant got closer and closer and then he could hear his mother telling him to keep going to find help, to help her. And then the scream, he was never quite sure who was screaming but it always woke him and tonight was no different.

He sat up quickly, throwing the blankets off his sweat drenched body. He was breathing heavy but had learned to keep it quiet, quiet so James would not know he was awake. Carefully he slid off the cot and padded to the door then turned the knob slowly and slipped out into the hall without a sound. He stood for a moment blinking in the soft light that shone through the window at the top of the stairs. The beating of his heart against his chest was so loud it blocked out all other sound. He placed both hands over it in an attempt to keep it quiet. He needed to hear, to hear any sound that would alert him. Walking close to the wall he made his way to the bathroom, relieved himself and splashed cool water on his overly warm face. Usually by this point in his nightly ritual he had realized it was just a dream and could return to his bed, not to sleep but to rest until daybreak.

Tonight was different because today the nightmare sat in the garden talking to Hunter and Bobbi, probably telling them he would take him away. At first he didn't like all the rules and supervision in Phil's house but he liked the terror of James Grant much less. If it wasn't so dark he'd just get dressed and run, run as far as he could get before they started to look for him. But what if James was out there…in the dark…waiting for him…the nightmare would be real. He sat on the cold porcelain edge of the tub and let the thoughts tumble forward. Brushing away the hot tears that he couldn't stop from falling he knew he was trapped. He couldn't run and he couldn't stay here, the safest place he had ever lived. He wished Phil was there. Phil would talk and he'd be calm and then together they'd be calm. He wished for Melinda too, despite the fact that he was more than intimidated by her, he knew she'd kick James' ass all over Sheffield if he stepped on the property again. He smiled at that mental picture.

A soft clicking noise caught his attention. He stood up and moved closer to the door, putting his ear against it. The sound clicked again, a bit louder…a bit closer and then stopped. His breathing quickened and again he could feel his heart against his chest. Someone was in the house. He opened the door a crack and peeked out but saw nothing. He stepped into the hall and stood facing the stairs trying to gather enough courage to walk to the top and look down. He took one slow step and stopped, then took a second. Before he could take a third step a loud crash and a stream of cursing caused him to turn and run not back to Jemma's room but to the door at the end of the hallway. He turned the knob, pushed inside and slammed it with a soft thud.

The light in the room came on and the large man in the large bed pushed himself up on one elbow.

"Yo, what's the problem, Turbo?" He asked groggily.

Fitz stood plastered against the door, taking deep breaths and still holding fast to the door knob. His eyes were wide and his chest rose and fell like a hammer. "Can I sleep here?" It came out before he could stop it, between his deep gulps of breath.

The large man pulled back the blanket in assent and the boy did not hesitate to sprint across the room and jump into the bed pulling uncharacteristically close to the muscular giant. The man dropped the blanket over the boy then reached and turned off the light. "Ya don't snore do you little man?"

Fitz shook his head and breathed, "thank you, Mack."

"Anytime, Turbo," the man replied around a yawn as he wriggled back into a comfortable position and reclaimed his sleep.

Snuggled under the blanket against the largest, strongest man he had ever met, Fitz drifted back into a fitful sleep.