Thanks for all of your support! Much gratitude to my wonderful beta, VanillaAshes.
Story Time
"I want a story!" Isabelle announced as Bobbi pulled the covers over her and tucked her in. She was adorable in the way her eyes held her gaze seriously and how her upper lip pouted just a tidbit over her lower one.
"You just watched a movie; you want a story too?" Bobbi asked. If the girl wanted a story then Bobbi would find one to read, but it seemed a bit like overkill to her.
"Yes," Isabelle insisted in that four-year-old voice that was so self-confident it was actually cute rather than aggravating. "Every night, I have to have a story. Who can read it to me?"
"I can," Bobbi suggested. "Or I can ask anybody you like if you have someone in mind."
Her daughter's face lit up. "Mommy! I want Mommy to read me a bedtime story!"
"Isabelle..." she tried to make her voice as understanding yet firm as possible. She'd meant someone on the base, but this incident was perhaps her fault this time.
"No! You promised anybody!" the girl said, throwing off the blankets and sitting up defiantly. "I want Mommy!"
"I'm sorry, Isabelle, she's not here," Bobbi told her. "She can't read you a story. You'll have to pick someone else."
"No! MOMMY!"
Bobbi just stood there for a moment, at a loss for what to do as angry tears began to streak down the four-year-old's face. "Tell me about your mommy," she tried.
"Then you'll let her read me a bedtime story?" Isabelle asked hopefully through wet lashes.
"We'll see," Bobbi said, unable to come up with any other suitable answer. Though she might have been a renowned S.H.I.E.L.D. agent for espionage and undercover ops, she certainly wasn't doing well talking to a four-year-old.
"My mommy's the bestest Mommy in the whole world," Isabelle informed her. "She holds my hand when we go outside. She plays with Hoppity and me. She hugs me when I cry." The girl thought about it for a second. "And I hug her when she cries too," she added proudly.
"Why would she be crying?" Bobbi questioned, frowning and taking a seat on the edge of the bed.
"I don't know," Isabelle replied, lying back down. "She just does, especially after Daddy gets out of the car." Her response made little sense, and only confused things more. "Can Daddy read me a story instead? He does even better animal noises than Mommy!"
"Not tonight, Isabelle," Bobbi said softly.
"Tomorrow night?" Isabelle asked hopefully.
"I'll have to check with him," Bobbi agreed finally. "Not tonight though. I'm sure he's already asleep."
"But I'm scared!"
"What are you scared of?" she asked, concerned.
"I don't know. I just am," Isabelle said as she pulled the covers up over her chest and wiggled downward until only her nose poked out above them. Bobbi couldn't tell if the girl was being evasive or honestly didn't know.
"It's okay to be scared," she told her. "But you don't need to be. This is one of the safest places in the world."
"I still want Mommy," Isabelle repeated with a sniffle. "Will you ask her tomorrow? Promise?"
Bobbi brushed a hand over her daughter's forehead and stroked her hair. "I know you miss her. I know this has been hard for you, and you've been very brave."
"Promise?" Isabelle asked again.
"I promise."
Isabelle's eyes fluttered. "'kay. I trust you. Mommy will be here tomorrow because she always comes when I'm scared," she said confidently. Bobbi's heart clenched at the word 'trust'—trust was the first step toward love, right? Now she really would have to contact Isabelle's parents somehow.
"Do you still want a story?" she asked softly.
"I can wait," Isabelle murmured, happy but sleepy. All of the excitement of the day plus her latest emotional outburst must have exhausted her. A few seconds later and Isabelle's eyes slipped shut. Bobbi rose quietly from the bed, careful not to disturb her.
Outside, she stopped in her tracks. What the hell had she been thinking? She couldn't contact Isabelle's adoptive parents! Especially not to admit to them that she was having trouble connecting with her own child. Plus, wouldn't that just be stringing Isabelle along? Wouldn't it be better if she just never saw her parents again so that she'd have an easier time moving on?
Bobbi knocked softly on Skye's door, not wanting to wake the hacker up but desperately needing someone to talk to. Skye had been a foster child once, and at that same age as well. If anyone could shed some light on what was going on in Isabelle's head and what was really best for her, it was her.
Skye opened it almost immediately, wearing the same lounge clothes as she had while watching the movie. "Bobbi, what's up?"
"I was wondering if you could give me some advice," she replied, "regarding Isabelle."
"Of course!" Skye said, gesturing inside. "Come on in." Once they were both seated on the bed, she prompted, "So, what's bothering you? Isabelle seems like she's adjusting really well so far. Amazingly well, actually. She's a sweet girl."
"She goes through stages," Bobbi admitted. "With you guys and the tour and the movie...she seemed fine. But when it was time for bed, she wanted her mother to read her a story, and…"
"That's harsh," Skye murmured, giving her a sympathetic look.
"It's not the first time she's expressed a wish to go back either," she told her. "Nights seem to be especially hard."
"It's only been two," Skye reminded her.
"Which makes me sound crazy," Bobbi agreed. "It's just...I'm worried about her. I know being homesick is probably normal, but it doesn't seem like she's gotten any kind of closure with her old home… Is it even possible to get closure being moved like that?" She looked questioningly at Skye, who considered it carefully.
"It doesn't surprise me in the least that Isabelle misses her old home," Skye said finally. "And no, there's not all that much closure in switching families like I did in the foster system. But...do you think she knows why she was given up in the first place?"
"I don't even know that."
Skye nodded. "I think I at least had that going for me at all my old foster homes. I mean, I later found out that it was S.H.I.E.L.D. moving me around a lot to keep me safe, but back then there at least seemed to be some sense in it, even when I was younger. If I didn't get along with the other kids, I got sent back. If I broke something—sent back. If I just plain wasn't what they were looking for—back into the system."
"But do you think knowing would help?" Bobbi asked. "I'm pretty sure Isabelle doesn't know; she doesn't act like it. If she did, I would expect her to be more angry and upset at her parents—she just seems sad and confused. But the only way I could find out that information is to call them, and...I'm not sure Isabelle would believe any reason I gave her if it came from me. I'm already worried she doesn't quite like me, or thinks I took her away from her parents or something like that." She paused. "I hate seeing her sad. I hate having to tell her no."
Skye sighed. "I honestly don't know. You could let her speak to them over the phone if they were willing—"
"—but that might only increase her desire to see them, make all the old feelings well up again," Bobbi finished. "Maybe a clean break would be better. Maybe I just need to be more patient." She laughed softly, humorlessly. "I have no idea what I'm doing, Skye."
The hacker smiled encouragingly. "Does any first-time parent?"
"I suppose not. It's just..."
"Hard," Skye smiled again. "It's hard for the kid, too. You're not the only one."
"I just wish I knew how to make it easier," Bobbi replied with a sigh. "Tonight, I...I might have just made it worse. She was telling me she was scared and that she missed her family and I...I told her I'd ask her parents if they would come read her a bedtime story."
"They can't," Skye said immediately. "Not here, not to the Playground they can't."
"A phone call, or Skype, or something would be good enough, I think," Bobbi said. "It won't be the same, but...I still can't help but wonder if it would really be good for her."
"For them to read her a story, or for her to learn the truth of why they gave her back?"
"Either. Both. What if she doesn't remember any of this in the morning? She is only four. What if she remembers all of it?" Bobbi met the other woman's eyes. "She said she trusted me, Skye. I can't lose that. It's all we've got."
"Well, how about this?" Skye began. "You do have contact information for the old parents?"
"Yeah, it's how I got the pictures over the years."
"Then call them. Ask why they gave Isabelle up. If it's something bad, you don't have to tell her. But if it isn't… You can decide after you hear it whether you think it'll help or be detrimental to her settling in here."
"You're a genius," Bobbi told her.
Skye smiled. "I've been told. Well, not as much as FitzSimmons—but I've been told. You're too focused on the bigger picture. Try to take it more as one day at a time, and see how that works for you. As for the bedtime story...she's only expecting you to ask tomorrow, right? This is something that's really important to her. If she remembers you agreeing to ask, it's all you'll be hearing from her in her waking hours. If she doesn't...maybe tomorrow night I could come read to her? Like, don't ask if she wants me to, just have me show up. If the idea that her parents could do it was never there in the first place, I think she'll happily take a story from me."
"You would do that?" Bobbi asked.
Skye laughed. "For Isabelle? Seriously, anything. And for you too—I don't know if anyone's told you, but what you're doing? It's really brave. All the foster parents who sent me back to the system...they could learn a thing or two from you."
"Thank you," Bobbi said seriously. She smiled at Skye. Maybe she and Isabelle were both being brave in this venture. The hacker returned the smile and Bobbi stood to leave.
"How—how are you and Hunter?" Skye asked, stopping her in her tracks.
Bobbi shook her head. "Don't even ask." She thanked the younger agent again before shutting the door. She checked in on Isabelle, who was still sound asleep, standing in the doorway to watch her little chest rise and fall. A flyaway strand of the girl's golden hair was blown into the air with each soft breath, and her little face was relaxed and peaceful. When her eyes were closed, Bobbi could almost pretend that Isabelle had been hers forever—that four years ago she'd decided to keep her and raise her and be her mother, that when she looked into her eyes Bobbi saw love and happiness instead of confusion and traces of resentment. But still. Trust.
Trust she might have to break if things went south with Isabelle's parents.
With a clench of her jaw, she shut the door again and pulled out her phone. She scrolled through her contacts before finding the name she was looking for. Bobbi waited with bated breath as it rang. "Hello?" Cheryl Mason asked after a few agonizing seconds.
"Hello," she replied. "It's Barbara Morse...I'm calling about Isabelle."
"Oh," the other woman replied, sounding slightly wistful. "Oh, right. Of course...I expected your call. I'll tell you anything you want to know."
Thanks for reading! Any guesses on the story behind the adoptive parents?
Reponses to Guest reviewers:
AwesomeGirl: Thank you :)
Holly: Committed, yes. A team player...not quite yet.
Andy: Coming soon!
Shawn: We're getting there, we're getting there... :)
