TW for mention of homophobia/bullying
Bobbi had been having an exceptionally good day today. She had an appointment with her physical therapist that morning, which meant she got to sleep in an extra thirty minutes and miss math, and her doctor had said she was making good progress.
"I'm going to ask you to keep using your crutches until I can see you again next week, just to be safe, but I think we can start trying out a few low-impact exercises," he said. "You've been working on those strength exercises I gave you for the rest of your leg?" Bobbi nodded. She had been very diligent about keeping up with the doctor's instructions ever since watching that first soccer game with her friends. Any fear that she had about not being able to heal fully was overshadowed by the powerful need she now felt to get back out on the field as soon as she safely could.
"Good," he smiled. Dr. Gambhir wasn't exactly what Bobbi would call a chipper man, but he knew how to be encouraging when he needed to be. "That will make your job easier as we move into the harder parts of rehab."
He'd had her take off her brace and shown her a few stretches to begin testing out her knee's capacity, rotating and bending her leg carefully as May watched. It was an odd sensation, partially because Bobbi had never had someone guide her leg around like it was a joystick before, but more so because of how stiff and underused had become after weeks of bedrest, braces, and crutches.
"Your range of motion is already pretty good, especially considering the stage we're currently at, which is a very good sign," Dr. Gambhir said, more to May than to Bobbi. Bobbi didn't blame him. It was probably awkward to talk to someone while you were bent over them swinging their leg around. "Let's test out that strength, shall we?"
He guided her up into a standing position, and helped Bobbi keep her balance while she prepared to put weight on her unbraced knee for the first time since she had tried to get out of bed in the hospital. That felt like a lifetime ago. Her bad leg felt floaty now that it was unencumbered, and she felt a flutter of butterflies erupt in her stomach at the prospect of trying to stand on it. What if something went wrong? What if she wasn't strong enough and she went crashing down to the floor?
Her increasingly rapid breathing must have given away how nervous she was feeling, because May was at her side in a flash.
"Are you okay? Do you need to take a break?" Okay. Okay. She was okay. Bobbi shook her head and took a steadying breath. "It's all right to be nervous," May said gently. "It's been a while since you've stood on your own two feet, hasn't it?"
It had been a while, and not just since she'd physically stood on her own. Bobbi thought back to the years and years she had spent crouched in her father's shadow, living as little more than a sliver of the person she wanted to be. She hadn't been brave back then, hadn't stood up for herself, but things were different now. Her life was different now. She was living in a place where she didn't have to be afraid, where the people around her made her feel safe. She was still figuring out how to step into being the person she imagined herself becoming, but she had never felt like she had a better shot than she did now. She put her foot down and carefully shifted her weight onto her knee. She was standing up for the first time.
Besides the huge boost of confidence that her good news at the doctor's office had given her, the other major benefit to missing morning classes was that May said she could pick up lunch on their way back to school. The looks on Mack and Hunter's faces when she had swung into the lunchroom with her own bag of takeout, instead of her usual brownbag fare, was enough to put her in a good mood the rest of the day.
"You guys look so jealous," Clint wheezed. He held out a few of his French fries and dangled them in Hunter's face before turning to Bobbi and tapping his fries against hers like they were champagne glasses instead of deep-fried potatoes.
"Forgive me for not being thrilled to have a meatloaf sandwich for the third day in a row," Hunter grumbled, picking at his slightly soggy food. "My mum messed up the recipe last week and made double what she should have, so it's been leftovers all week."
"I'll trade you half of mine for half of yours," Bobbi offered. She slid half of her burger across the table towards him, but Hunter looked bashful.
"No, it's fine, Bob, really. I was complaining. You don't need to subject yourself to this culinary travesty."
"I like meatloaf," Bobbi shrugged. "Go on, take it."
"If you won't, I will," Mack teased him, snaking his hand out towards the burger. Hunter smacked it away.
"All right, all right, don't get grabby, Mack, I'm taking the sandwich." He grabbed the burger and wolfed it down in about three bites. A blissful smile spread across his face. "God, that was amazing."
"Did he even chew?" Mack asked the rest of the table, laughing.
"I'm pretty sure his jaw just unhinged like a snake," Natasha smirked.
"All of you shut it and let me enjoy this," Hunter shushed them. Something in Bobbi's chest swelled with happiness at the look of pure joy that was still resting on Hunter's face. It felt good to make him happy.
"The meatloaf's not bad," Bobbi told him, after taking a bite of Hunter's discarded sandwich.
"You're already my hero for the day, Bobbi, you don't have to compliment my mum's poor cooking as well," Hunter grinned.
"No, I mean it," she said. "It's way better than the meatloaf I made once. It turned out so bad that my dad—" She stopped herself short. She was getting careless. She had to pay better attention to the words coming out of her mouth. "He… he didn't like it," she finished lamely. Her fingers twitched instinctively, and she gave her crutches a squeeze under the table. Saying he didn't like it probably qualified as a world-record understatement. He had gotten so mad at her for not cooking him something edible that he had thrown the whole thing on the floor, plates and all, and made her clean the whole thing up on her hands and knees while he aimed kicks at her periodically. He had said he wasn't about to let anyone try to poison him in his own home, and despite Bobbi's protests that it couldn't have been poisoned, since she ate it too, he had locked her in her room until he finally had to let her out to go to school two days later.
Fortunately, no one seemed to notice that she had ended her story with such a flimsy conclusion, and the boys moved on to discussing their chances in tonight's soccer game against Reedsville. Natasha eyed her with a careful gaze, and Bobbi looked away, embarrassed. She had a hard time figuring out what Natasha was thinking a lot of the time. Something about the way the older girl held her face shielded her emotions from the rest of the world – a trick that Bobbi desperately wanted to learn.
"You're still good to come with me tonight, right?" Natasha asked. Bobbi had been going to all of the home soccer games regularly now, although this would be only the second one where the boys would be playing, leaving her and Natasha to sit by themselves. Phil and May had been very nice about letting her go out so often, but Bobbi figured it was probably just because they were so pleased she had friends that they didn't want to stand in the way of her socializing.
Bobbi nodded, and Natasha smiled. "Phil said as long as I was home by 9:30, then I was fine to go."
"Good, because it's way more fun to watch those guys play when I have some company."
Bobbi's good mood propelled her to the end of the school day and to Phil's classroom, where it had become her habit to sit and do her homework while Skye went to her tutoring session. Phil was behind his desk, humming a cheerful tune while he worked on some lesson plans, and Jemma had joined them as well, apparently not needed by Skye that day. She was doing that thing where she tapped her finger lightly on the desk while she worked, but neither sound bothered Bobbi. The familiar white noise of Phil and Jemma was almost comforting in a way, and she had no trouble concentrating on the biology assignment in front of her.
"Oh, Bobbi, I almost forgot, how was the doctor today?" Phil asked, looking up from his desk. It wasn't unusual for him to make small talk while they worked, and Bobbi didn't mind answering his questions. They were usually easy ones, like how her day had been, and it felt kind of nice to have someone who was genuinely interested in her life.
"Good," she said. She felt her mouth widen into a smile in spite of herself. "I stood without my crutches today."
"Bobbi, that's amazing," Phil gushed, his own beaming smile matching hers. "I'm so proud of you."
"Well, it's not like I ran a mile on it or anything," Bobbi shrugged bashfully. Phil's excitement made her insides feel warm and fuzzy, like a fluffy dandelion getting ready to burst out into the world, but his praise still made her a little self-conscious.
"Don't be silly, that was a huge step you made today," he said. Off to her right, Jemma nodded, wearing a smile of her own.
"My mum used to tell me, 'the steps you take don't have to be big, they just have to take you in the right direction,'" Jemma told her earnestly. "But with a knee injury, even something like standing unassisted counts as a big step and a step in the right direction."
"You guys are making me blush," Bobbi said, flapping a hand to wave off their exuberant praise.
"Okay, okay, I'll stop," Phil surrendered. "Did Dr. Gambhir say when you might be able to ditch the crutches for good?"
"Not exactly. He wants me to keep using them until next week when he can check again, so maybe soon."
"That's really exciting news," Phil smiled. "Definitely more exciting than anything that happened to me today."
"How was your day, Phil?" Jemma asked suddenly. "You always ask about ours, but you don't tell us about yours."
"Pretty good, actually," he said, after considering for a moment. "Nothing too special, but I got to talk about the Pork and Beans War, so that was fun."
"The what?" Bobbi asked, intrigued.
"The Pork and Beans War. Also known as the Aroostook War, although the term 'war' is a loose one, considering there was very little fighting," Phil explained. "A lesser known dispute between the British and the Americans in 1838 over the Maine-Canada border. I always get a kick out of telling my students a bunch of lumberjacks were gearing up to fight one another, only to have the only casualties be from disease and a rogue bear attack."
"Are you serious?" Bobbi was trying not to laugh, but the mental image she was creating of lumberjacks squaring off, only to be ambushed by bears, was too funny.
"Completely," Phil said, starting to laugh too. "The best part is that no one actually died from the bear attack, so we're free to enjoy the ridiculousness without having to worry about those poor jacks who had to fight a bear. Well, that and the step forward in Northern foreign policy spearheaded by Daniel Webster."
"Webster like the dictionary guy?"
"Webster like the secretary of state under three US presidents," Phil corrected.
"Noah Webster is the one who published his own dictionary," Jemma piped up. "It took him 26 years to compile An American Dictionary of the English Language."
"Jemma, I'm pretty sure you're the smartest person I know," Bobbi said warmly. Jemma's cheeks flushed pink.
"I just remember things. I like words and reading, so I remember things about them."
"Still, not everyone can just store information like that in their brain," Bobbi said. "I have to study for hours if I want to make sure I remember everything for one of Phil's quizzes."
"Hey, my quizzes aren't that hard, are they?" Phil asked, pretending to be hurt. His eyes twinkled, letting Bobbi know he was messing around.
"They're okay," she assured him. "Although," she added, a mischievous gleam sparkling in her own eye, "I don't think anyone would complain if you made them even easier."
They were all still laughing when Skye entered the room, Natasha following behind her. Usually, Skye was in a good mood after working with Natasha, but for some reason today, she was wearing a sour expression and her shoulders were hunched. Bobbi glanced over to Jemma, to see if the younger girl had any idea what was wrong with Skye.
"She's been like that since we left school," Jemma murmured, so only Bobbi could hear her. Bobbi noticed that the tempo of Jemma's tapping increased slightly, but didn't say anything about it.
"Hey Skye, how'd it go?" Phil asked cheerfully. His smile didn't make it all the way up to his eyes, and Bobbi could tell he had noticed Skye's bad mood, too.
"Fine. Can we go home, now?" she asked sullenly. Phil looked a little taken aback, but nodded.
"Sure, let us just grab our stuff," he said. He looked over at Natasha, asking silently for an explanation. Natasha waited until Skye wasn't looking at her, then shook her head slightly in a gesture of "I don't know."
"Skye did some really good work today, Mr. Coulson," Natasha said, forcing her tone to sound upbeat. "We started working on ratios, and we looked at how they're basically like fancy fractions."
"That sounds great," Phil nodded, still studying Skye.
"Bobbi, I'll see you tonight?" Natasha asked. "Clint's letting me borrow his car while he's at the game, so I can come pick you up right before, if you want?"
"That'd be good," Bobbi told her as she gathered her crutches and got to her feet. Natasha gave them all a wave before disappearing into the hallway, which only Bobbi and Jemma returned.
"Is everything okay, Skye?" Phil asked as they made their way out to the parking lot. His eyebrows were scrunched together and his mouth was turned down – worried face. He wasn't alone. Jemma was fidgety, tapping the whole way to the car, and even Bobbi felt herself growing concerned at Skye's standoffishness.
"I'm fine," she scowled, very obviously lying. "I'm just tired, and I don't like ratios, and I want to go home."
"Lucky for you, that's where we're headed," Phil told her. He tried to put her at ease with a smile, but Skye didn't seem to notice. "And maybe you could be a little more careful with your tone, there, kiddo. We're just trying to help." The gentle reprimand caused Skye's shoulders to sag down even farther.
"Sorry," she mumbled. "I didn't mean to."
"It's okay, Skye," Phil assured her. "It can be hard to remember to speak kindly when you aren't feeling that way."
Skye didn't answer, and instead climbed into the backseat of the car, crossed her arms tightly across her chest, and sat stock still, staring out of the window. Jemma chewed on her lip, then joined Skye in the backseat. Bobbi watched as she reached out momentarily, like she was going to put a reassuring hand on Skye's arm, then thought better of it and withdrew her hand. If even Jemma couldn't snap Skye out of whatever funk she was in, Bobbi thought, then there must be something really wrong.
When they all arrived home, Bobbi decided that, as curious as she was about what was bothering Skye, the smart thing to do would be to give her some space. She knew if she had been having a day as bad as Skye seemed to be, she wouldn't have been especially interested in everyone crowding around and asking her a bunch of question.
One of the nice things about spending an extra hour at school while Skye went to tutoring was that Bobbi had far less homework to worry about at home, and because she'd only had a half day to begin with, she was basically done for the day, which is why she found herself drifting to the den instead of the kitchen table or her room. Her knee was still tired from physical therapy, and she wanted to put it up before going and sitting in the bleachers for two hours, so the mushy sofa back there seemed like a good place to relax until Natasha arrived.
Her eyes sifted over the large collection of DVDs that Phil had amassed on one of the shelves in the den. He had said a few weeks ago that they could watch anything that they wanted to, and she figured that if she picked the right one, she could time it just right with Natasha's arival. She stopped searching as soon as her gaze landed on one of her old favorites, and she couldn't help but crack a grin. Bobbi slid the box off the shelf, and before long, the opening trumpets of A New Hope were filling the room.
She had only been watching for a few minutes when a voice interrupted the arrival of Darth Vader onto the Tantive IV.
"What is this? Star Trek or something?"
Bobbi craned her neck around behind her to see Skye skulking in the doorway, still wearing her grumpy expression.
"Star Trek? Are you kidding? I mean, don't get me wrong, Star Trek is cool too, but you seriously don't recognize this?" Skye just shrugged one shoulder. Her face sank, making her look even sadder than before, which Bobbi wouldn't have thought was possible. She cringed internally at herself for making the younger girl feel bad for not identifying the movie. "This is Star Wars. The very first one. Well, the first one made, but not the first one chronologically. You really have never seen it before?"
"I guess not," Skye mumbled. "I haven't watched a lot of movies."
"Well, then, you're in for a treat," Bobbi smiled. "I've never gotten to watch Star Wars with someone who's never seen it before. Come on, it'll be fun." She beckoned Skye to an empty spot on the couch. Skye hesitated for a second, then joined her. It was like she didn't want to seem like she was giving in so easily to Bobbi's invitation, but the allure of laser blasts and Princess Leia's hair buns was too much to resist.
"Okay, so that's Darth Vader, he's the bad guy, and Princess Leia there, she's a part of the Rebel Alliance. Her team stole some secret plans to Darth Vader's base, and he's trying to get them back, but she doesn't have them anymore," Bobbi explained, trying to catch Skye up to speed. Skye nodded seriously, her eyes glued to the screen.
"How come her hair looks like that?"
"I think that's just how princesses wear their hair in space," Bobbi said after a beat. She had never thought to question Princess Leia's style choices before.
They watched in silence for a few more minutes, until Darth Vader captured Leia and ordered the ship to be destroyed.
"I guess she's having a pretty crummy day," Skye said quietly. Bobbi nodded. She wasn't sure if that was Skye's way of telling her that she wanted to talk or not, but something in her gut told her that the comment was supposed to be an invitation. She had no idea why Skye would want to talk to her over Jemma or Phil, but she wasn't about to ignore Skye when she was having such a rough go of it.
"Seems like you might have had a pretty crummy day yourself," Bobbi said. She made sure to keep her eyes on the movie, to make Skye feel like she was still in control. Bobbi knew she had an easier time talking when there wasn't someone staring her down. Somehow that always made it feel more like a conversation, and like one she could get out of if she needed to.
"It was mostly okay," said Skye, after a minute. "Except for what happened in the library." Bobbi felt like she was sliding across a frozen pond, not sure of when the ice underneath her feet was going to cave in and send her crashing into the frigid water. She had no idea how to have this kind of conversation with someone as touchy as Skye.
"What happened in the library?" she asked. She worked hard to keep her tone casual and airy, like she didn't really care that much if Skye talked or not. She was sure Skye knew exactly what she was doing, she was too smart not to see it, but she didn't object, so Bobbi figured their little dance must be working.
"There's this boy," Skye began, and Bobbi felt her face grow hot. If Skye was about to ask for relationship advice, Bobbi might as well jump headfirst into the frozen pond instead of skating across the top. That was not a conversation she was prepared to have. "And he's… well, he's basically the biggest jerk I've ever met, and that's saying a lot." Relief flooded Bobbi's muscles. She still wasn't sure she'd be much help, but the odds had just gone up considerably. "He's been messing with us for a while, and usually I can just tune him out, but…" Skye trailed off. Bobbi cut her eyes over to Skye and saw that her face was flushed with anger and embarrassment. She looked away before Skye could notice that she'd been watching her.
"But not today?" Bobbi prompted. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Skye shake her head.
"He came up to me in the library, and he… he knew stuff about me. Stuff I haven't told people."
"Like what?" Something like fear was beginning to creep into Bobbi's chest. If there was one thing that put her on edge, it was people knowing things about her that she didn't want them to know.
"Like about St. Agnes," Skye said, barely above a whisper. "And about me being a foster kid and going to tutoring. And he said that he learned about it because some high school girl told him and his brother, but the only high schoolers who know about me are you and Natasha."
"Skye, I promise, I haven't told anyone anything," Bobbi said quickly. She knew it was going against the unspoken rules of their conversation, but she twisted around in her seat to face Skye head on. "I would never."
"I know," Skye told her. "I know you wouldn't. You're keeping it a secret too, so why would you tell?"
"You don't think Natasha…?"
"I don't know!" Skye erupted. Her eyes looked hurt and heavy, and there was a ragged catch in her voice. "I tried to get her to confess when I saw her today, but I didn't do it right, because she didn't know what I was talking about. She just kept making us focus on stupid ratios, which I hate." Skye paused and caught her breath. She ground a stubborn fist into the corner of her eye, and Bobbi politely ignored the tears that Skye was erasing from her face. "I thought I could trust her. I told her about me and Jemma, and she told us stuff about her life, and she didn't make me feel dumb for not knowing stuff in tutoring. But I feel dumb now. I should never have trusted her."
"Skye," Bobbi said carefully, "we don't know yet if Natasha was the one who told. She doesn't really seem like the type to do something like that. I… I'm seeing her tonight. I'll ask her about it, and I'll tell you what she says, okay?"
"Okay," Skye said reluctantly.
"Is there anyone else who knows that might have told?" Bobbi asked. "I know you said you and Jemma told Fitz. Did you tell anyone else? Or Jemma or Fitz? Did they tell?"
"Our friend Trip knows, but no one else. And none of them would ever tell," Skye said resolutely. "Jemma doesn't talk to anyone else, and Fitz hates Ward, and Trip is on our side."
"Wait, Ward?" Bobbi interrupted. "The boy you've been talking about is named Ward?"
"Yeah," grimaced Skye. "Grant Ward. His brother's the one who argued with Hunter at the soccer game."
"If your Ward heard it from a friend of his brother's, then there's no way Natasha was the one who told," Bobbi said triumphantly. She didn't think Natasha would have done something like that, but it was nice to have some substantial proof to that point. "Natasha hates Ward. Not as much as Hunter and Clint and Mack, but there's no way she would ever talk to him. They're not friends."
"Oh." Skye's eyebrows inched up her forehead and she cocked her head to one side. Surprised face. "I didn't know that."
"That doesn't solve the mystery of Grant's secret source, but it does mean that you weren't stupid to trust Natasha," Bobbi smiled. It meant she wasn't stupid to have trusted Natasha either. "I'll still ask her about it tonight, just in case she has any idea who might be behind it."
"And you'll report back?" Skye asked. A mischievous smiled was starting to tug at the corners of her mouth – the first smile Bobbi had seen on her face all afternoon. "Like a spy with secret intel?"
"I'll report back," Bobbi agreed. "Just think of me as your top agent."
Natasha had been perfectly punctual in arriving to pick Bobbi up, and they had no trouble getting to the stadium. Bobbi had her own money for her ticket this time, thanks to Phil, who now made a point of bankrolling Bobbi's soccer outings. She had protested at first, but Phil had insisted. When she had offered to work for the money, he had just laughed kindly.
"How about you work in the dish washing rotation and make your bed every day? That seems like fair work for a few soccer tickets and snacks."
"Phil, I already help with the dishes and make my bed," Bobbi pointed out.
"Then I guess we're all squared up," he smiled, pushing the five-dollar bill into her hands.
Natasha found them a pair of seats that were still in a patch of watery sunlight. The sky had been overcast most of the day, and the familiar October chill was starting to set in, but the few breakthroughs of sun made the temperature more than bearable.
They chatted for a while before the game started, mostly about what Bobbi had missed at school that morning and about her doctor's appointment. Natasha was pleased by Bobbi's news of progress on her knee, although she didn't quite top Phil's earlier enthusiasm. Although, Bobbi reasoned, there were probably very few people who could.
"Your foster sister seemed a little… off, today," Natasha said eventually, once they had exhausted the rest of their small talk. "What was going on with her?"
"I actually wanted to talk to you about that," Bobbi said. "We talked a little at home, and she said some things that… didn't add up, I guess?"
"How so?"
"Well, Skye was telling me about this kid who messes with her and her friends," Bobbi began. "And apparently he's Christian Ward's little brother."
"I remember Hunter's cousin talking about a little Ward," Natasha scowled. "I guess he's just as delightful as his brother."
"It would seem like it," Bobbi nodded. "Skye said that he came up to her in the library at school today and he said some things that really rattled her. Like, he knew things about her that no one at school knows, like being in foster care and going to tutoring. I guess it really set her off."
"Geez, yeah I can see why that would bother her," Natasha said solemnly. "Someone you don't like having information about you that you don't want other people knowing. I'm sure it scared her to think that people might find out the things she'd been hiding." Bobbi couldn't be sure, but there was something odd in the way Natasha was looking at her. Like she wanted to say something more, but was holding back. Nervously, Bobbi tried to change the direction of the conversation slightly. She didn't like talking about people finding out other people's secrets.
"So anyway, the thing about it all is that the kid told her he found out from a high school girl, one of his brother's friends. Skye didn't know about you and Christian, so she just assumed that—"
"That I was the one who told," Natasha finished sadly. "Because she had talked to me about being in foster care. That's why she was acting so weird today. She kept trying to talk about lie detector tests and going to confession with those nuns she used to live with, but I didn't have any idea what she was talking about."
"I told her that it wasn't you," Bobbi assured her. "But I thought maybe you might have an idea of who it could have been. You know people here better than me. Who does Christian Ward hang out with?"
"Plenty of people, but none that I can think of that would know anything about Skye. All of his jock friends have better things to do than worry about a middle school kid, Kara Palamas has never met her, and…" Natasha faltered, then froze. "Wait. I know. Raina."
"Who?"
"Raina. She's not really who you'd expect to run with the jocks, but she's always hanging around Ward and his friends. You've probably seen her before, she's always wearing those weird flower dresses. She's a tutor, too, and I've caught her trying to talk to Skye before. She knows that Skye's a foster kid, because Mr. Coulson introduced Skye as his foster daughter in front of her on the first day."
"Why would she talk to Grant Ward about it, though?" Bobbi asked, furrowing her brow. She realized she had seen the girl in question before, through the fence after Christian Ward had accosted Hunter at the Mishicot game.
"Who knows?" Natasha shook her head. "Maybe Christian put her up to it, to try and give Grant leverage against Skye and her friends as some twisted kind of way of getting to Hunter? She's kind of odd, to be honest, and she was weirdly interested in your foster sisters the day I caught her talking to them." Bobbi wrinkled her nose. That was odd. As far as she knew, there was nothing about Skye or Jemma to warrant the attention of a random high schooler.
"Look, I'll do my best to keep them apart at tutoring," Natasha said, "but you should keep an eye on them, too. Raina's bad news, so the less contact she has with Skye the better."
"Bad news how?"
Natasha hesitated, choosing her words carefully. "She has this weird way of finding things out about people," she said finally. "And then she uses it to get what she wants. How else do think someone like her got to be sitting at the right hand of the self-proclaimed king of Manitowoc High? She's very good at convincing people to do the things she wants them to do. Like, last year, when Elena's cousin Joey was still in the closet, Raina found out somehow and tried to get him to ingratiate her with the rest of the football team. When he wouldn't do it, she told Ward and all of his numbskull friends, and they bullied him so much that he quit the team and transferred schools. That's right around the time she started sitting at Ward's lunch table."
"That's horrible," Bobbi said hoarsely. "She outed him? And his own teammates bullied him for it?"
Natasha gave Bobbi a withering look. "Don't tell me you're surprised to learn that Christian Ward is a huge homophobe on top of all his other charms."
"I guess not," Bobbi admitted. "But still, that's… despicable."
"And that's why Raina's dangerous," Natasha said seriously. "If she really is the one who's feeding Grant Ward his information, then there's got to be an angle."
"And we can't let her use it," Bobbi murmured. There was a tingling building up in her arms and legs, a nervous, agitated energy that felt foreign. It was an overwhelming sensation that it was up to her to make sure nobody messed with Skye or Jemma from here on out. Their sweet, cheerful faces swam in front of her eyes, and Bobbi suddenly knew that if anyone ever did anything to hurt them or take away their smiles, she would personally see to it that that person would be held responsible. She thought back to what May had said that morning at the doctor's office when she had stood on her own two feet. She hadn't always been good at standing up for herself, but she knew now that she would always be ready to stand up for someone else.