TW for some swearing (bc Hunter really can't help himself...)
The soccer game itself hadn't been all that exciting. Reedsville clearly wasn't a soccer powerhouse, and they were obviously outmatched by the Manitowoc boys. Still, Bobbi enjoyed watching her friends shine in their respective roles. Mack, aided by his hulking form, was impenetrable as a goalie, blocking every single shot that Reedsville sent his way. Natasha had informed her that Mack had finished every single game of the season so far with a clean sheet, and that fact didn't surprise Bobbi in the least. Even if Mack hadn't been 6-foot-4, he still would have been an impeccable keeper, what with his sharp eyes and quick reflexes. He had a way of seeing plays coming before they fully played out in front of him, which gave him a strong upper hand every time one of the Reedsville players tried to take a shot.
Hunter was dogged on defense, relentlessly marking every Reedsville player that came within his radius and chasing down every loose ball he could. He and Mack made a good team in the backfield, with Hunter buzzing in the faces of the Reedsville offense like an agitating hornet and throwing them off balance, giving Mack more than enough time to set up to block any attempted shot. Bobbi had a sneaking suspicion that Hunter probably enjoyed being as pesky and persistent as he possibly could, pursuing the ball and getting in the offense's way at every opportunity.
Clint was equally as unbeatable on the field. He played a pushy style of striker that Bobbi could tell was getting under the skin of the Reedsville defense. Somehow, he always managed to be in the right place at the right time, and every single one of his shots was on target.
"Does he ever miss?" Bobbi had asked as yet another one of his shots curved spectacularly around three defenders, gliding through the air like it was a heat-seeking missile locked onto the back of the net and not a simple soccer ball.
"Honestly, no," Natasha told her. "It's one of his more infuriating qualities in most circumstances. I swear, he has a GPS or a homing signal hardwired into his body, because I've never seen him miss a basket or screw up a shot. Even his paper airplane skills are on point. Once, in middle school, I watched him launch a spitball all the way from the back of the classroom and straight into the teacher's coffee mug, and the teacher didn't even notice."
"Remind me never to play HORSE with him," Bobbi joked.
"He fleeced Hunter and Mack for about 50 bucks each that way when they first started hanging out last year," Natasha laughed. "It's mostly only annoying because he likes to showboat it when we're hanging out, but in a game it's a thing of beauty."
In the end, Manitowoc won the game 5-0. It probably would have been more, but Bobbi suspected their coach told them to back off in the second half, and she noticed that he even started subbing in some of their benchwarmers towards the end. Still, everyone in the stands was happy to take the win, and the crowd all gleefully chanted the "Fight On" song as the players jogged off the field after the final whistle. True to their word, Mack and Hunter had taught her the words, although Bobbi still felt a little awkward singing it along with every other person in the stands. It was fun to yell at the end, though, and Natasha had no qualms about cheering at the top of her lungs, so Bobbi didn't feel quite so self-conscious about it.
They made their way down to the fence at the bottom of the bleachers afterwards, where they met up with the boys, all of whom were grinning from ear to ear.
"How'd we look?" Clint asked, leaping over the fence and wrapping Natasha up in a sweaty bearhug.
"You're disgusting," she teased, shoving him away from her. "But you looked sharp. That third goal belongs in the Metropolitan Museum of Art."
"That was a nice one, wasn't it?" Clint sighed contentedly. His eyes caught something in the distance behind them, and he waved. "You didn't tell me Elena was with you."
Bobbi looked back and spotted Elena lingering by the bleachers, watching them shyly. She felt bad that she hadn't realized Elena was there sooner. When Clint waved to her, she waved back, but it wasn't until the rest of the group beckoned for her to join that she came over to say hello. Bobbi noticed that she was still favoring the ankle that had gotten dinged up in the Mishicot game.
"You guys played a good game," Elena said, smiling. "You had some good saves, Mack. You're faster than you look."
"You calling me slow?" he laughed. Elena's face went rosy and she started to splutter an apology, but Mack waved her off. "I'm just messing with you, relax."
"I think that's the most coherent Mack's been around her in ages," Hunter muttered to Bobbi out of the corner of his mouth, smirking slightly. "He must be feeling extra confident after that game." Bobbi bit back a smile. Hunter wasn't wrong, but she didn't want to encourage his teasing of whatever was going on between Mack and Elena.
"Let's give them some space, yeah?" Hunter suggested. "Come on, you can come with me to say hello to my mum." He grabbed her by the wrist to lead her away, but Bobbi flinched instinctively at his touch. It wasn't his fault, of course, but there was no way to explain that to him without everything else coming out. Fate was on her side, though, it seemed, because Hunter read the situation differently.
"Oh, right, I forgot about the crutches. You probably need your arms for those, don't you?" he laughed. Bobbi smiled weakly and tried to play along.
Hunter barreled up the steps of the bleachers over to the section where most of the parents sat, urging Bobbi to keep up. For someone who professed to be lazy, Hunter had a remarkable amount of speed and energy left for someone who had just played a full game of soccer.
He led her over to where Fitz was seated, smack in between two women who Bobbi was certain were sisters. They both had the same curly brown hair and gentle features, and their eyes were the same shade of brown as Hunter's.
"Hello darling, brilliant match," one of the women said as they approached. She had an accent not too dissimilar from Hunter's, although hers sounded slightly more refined than his. Rounder, and smoother, Bobbi thought. She leaned over and kissed him on the top of his sweaty head, and Bobbi decided that she must be Hunter's mother.
"Mum, there're people around," Hunter griped, squirming away from her. He had a cheeky grin on his face, though, and Bobbi wondered if he secretly enjoyed the affection.
"Your defense was good tonight," Fitz piped up. He was swinging off of the arm of the other woman, who must have been his own mother. "Although their offense didn't pose much of a threat, so I wouldn't get too full of yourself."
"Gee, thanks, Fitz," Hunter rolled his eyes. "Bobbi, this is my mum and my Aunt Linda. You already know Fitz, of course." Fitz gave her a chipper wave, and both Hunter's mother and aunt greeted her warmly.
"It's nice to meet you," Bobbi told them.
"Bobbi's been hanging out with me and Mack," Hunter explained. "We've got some classes together, and she's family with Fitz's friends."
"Well isn't that a small world?" Fitz's mother said, impressed. "I didn't know they had another daughter." Daughter. Daughter.
"Mr. Coulson's her uncle," clarified Hunter, much to Bobbi's horror. "But she's living with them now." Fitz immediately looked confused, and stared intently into Bobbi's face. She was sure her cheeks were the color of ketchup, but she didn't look at Fitz directly. She didn't want to give anything away, and she was praying that Skye and Jemma had explained the situation to him, or at the very least, that he'd be perceptive enough to pick up on the fact that she didn't want him to correct the facts in front of him. To her surprise, some of her old, secret-keeping instincts kicked in, and she felt herself go into a sickening autopilot of deception.
"Speaking of my uncle Phil," Bobbi said sharply, turning her head towards Fitz to make sure he wouldn't say a word, "he doesn't like it when I get home too late, so I should probably get going." She hated the lies that were coming out of her mouth, but even if she was eventually going to be honest about everything with Hunter, doing it in front of his entire family was literally the worst possible scenario she could imagine. She gripped her crutches tightly to keep her hands or voice from shaking. She didn't know what else to say, so she repeated her words from earlier and hoped that they would be enough to extricate herself politely. "It was nice to meet you."
"A pleasure," Mrs. Hunter smiled. Bobbi started to retreat down the bleachers, her crutches clanging against the metal steps. She was having a hard time keeping herself steady.
Hey, Bobbi, wait up!" Hunter's voice rang out from behind her. Bobbi winced, but slowed her pace. Hunter bounded down the steps and drew level with her.
"I'll walk you out," he grinned.
"Don't you want to be with your family?" Bobbi had a hard time believing that someone with a family as nice as Hunter's would want to waste his time chasing after her.
"Nah," he laughed. "I see them enough at home. Besides, I drove here earlier, so I have to go home on my own anyways. I just like to say hello to them right after and get Fitz's assessment." Everything with him was so casual – the way he walked right beside her, the way he talked to her, the way he interacted with his family. Bobbi couldn't remember the last time she had felt like anything in her life was casual. Part of her envied Hunter's ease with his life, part of her was terrified by it, but a third part – maybe the part she was the most confused by – was drawn to it. Something about his taking everything in stride made it seem like maybe she could start to do that, too.
"Well, still, you didn't have to walk me," Bobbi pointed out. "I know I'm on crutches, but I can still get around just fine."
"Don't flatter yourself," Hunter teased. His face was calm and happy. Kind, even. "I'm just getting back to Mack and my car, and you happen to be on the way. Although," he added, "the company's not so bad." Warmth crept up Bobbi's neck, but she gave herself a little shake to brush it away.
"Your mom and your aunt seem really nice," she said. Small talk was good. She had never been great at it, but it seemed like a safe choice. "You all live together, right? The four of you?"
"Yeah," Hunter nodded. "I guess I never really thought about it, but that's something we have in common." Bobbi cocked a quizzical eyebrow in his direction, seeking clarification on his observation. "You living with your aunt and uncle and 'foster cousins' and me living with Fitz and my aunt," he explained. "Neither one of us exactly has a traditional living arrangement."
Bobbi's throat felt like it was swelling shut. He didn't even know the half of it, and even though part of her was screaming for her to just tell him the truth, she couldn't make herself do it. She wouldn't even know where to start. Foster care? Her injuries? The truth about her dad or the fact that her mom walked out all those years ago? None of them seemed like an appealing conversation starter.
"You know, most people ask," Hunter said delicately. "When they find out about Fitz and my Aunt Linda. They want to know if there's a story there. You've never asked."
"I didn't want to pry," Bobbi murmured. "I figured it was your business. Was I supposed to ask?"
"Not necessarily. Just unusual, is all." Unusual. Unusual. Well, that was her in more ways than one. He was right about that, at least.
"So is there? A story there, I mean?" She wasn't sure if that was what Hunter was getting at, but she thought maybe this was his way of getting her to ask him to open up. If so, he was even more confusing than she had originally thought.
"Not really, actually," Hunter shrugged. He stopped walking and leaned against one of the handrails. Bobbi copied him, although she opted to lean on her crutches instead. "Everyone always expects some big, dramatic tale. Sometimes, if the person asking is being obnoxious, I'll feed them something wildly entertaining and see how much of it they bite on. But the real version isn't all that exciting. My dad's dead and Fitz's is a piece of shit, so once my mum and his both realized that they were living alone and miserable, with only their wayward sons to keep them company, they both packed up and moved us all to the States. Their other sister was already here in Chicago, but my mum and Aunt Linda were skittish about the city, so Aunt Sharon recommended this town. Apparently she'd done some work here way back and remembered how sleepy it was or something mushy like that."
"Hunter, I—" Bobbi didn't know what to say. He had been so matter-of-fact about the whole thing, like no part of his life story fazed him at all. "I'm sorry. Your dad –"
"It's fine," he shrugged. "My dad was in the Royal Air Force when we lived back in Kent. He got killed in action back when I was nearly ten. My mum took it really hard, and I was a right terror for a while, picking fights, ditching class. We spent a year barely scraping by. I almost got kicked out of school, but that was right around the time Fitz's bastard of a father finally left for good, so the timing worked out well for a transatlantic move. Both our mums needed a fresh start, I think." A fresh start. Was this the kind of town where a person could get a fresh start?
"When you first came here, and you told us about your dad and the car accident," Hunter said softly, "I was really glad to hear he wasn't dead. I know how hard that can be. Not that being away from him is easy," he amended quickly, "but it's just temporary. I mean, don't get me wrong, I'm not looking forward to the day you ditch us and head back home, but it'll be nice to be with your family again." Back home. Family. Again. What family?
A horrible ringing was burning in Bobbi's ears. Would she really have to go back at some point? She thought the point of foster care was that she never had to see him again, but the odious idea of this truly being temporary in every sense of the word, of her eventually having to slink back into his clutches, was taking root and overpowering any semblance of logic she once possessed. She had always known Phil and May wouldn't be forever – Miss Hand had told her so – but she couldn't stop the flood of terror that was telling her that saying goodbye to them would also mean saying hello again to her father. She squeezed her crutches, turning her knuckles white. Take a deep breath. There was no way she would really have to go back. Miss Hand had made that clear. It was just irrational fear talking. She would be okay.
"You all right, Bob? You look ill," Hunter interrupted her fevered thoughts. His eyebrows were knit together and his mouth was pulled down into a frown. Concerned face.
"Fine," she managed to croak. Now was her chance. She should just tell him. Hunter had told her everything about his family, about the truth in his past, why shouldn't she just say hers? Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe he'd understand. He was standing right in front of her, and there wasn't a trace of teasing on his face. Bobbi opened her mouth to speak.
"Hey, Bobbi, Hunter!" Natasha was calling up to them. Every word on Bobbi's tongue died immediately and shriveled back down her throat. She had lost her nerve. "Are you coming back or not? I've got to get Bobbi home before 9:30."
"You're sure you're okay?" Hunter checked. Bobbi nodded.
"We should go. You have to get your stuff, and I have to get home," she said. The impulse to spill everything had passed, and she felt herself clamp shut, thick defensive walls sealing in around her heart. There were some things that just couldn't be said out loud.
Clint and Natasha had taken her home, although not before a few more curious looks from Hunter that she tried to ignore. She was taking Natasha's interruption as a sign from the universe that she was supposed to keep quiet, and who was she to argue with the universe?
Natasha and Clint talked most of the ride home, so Bobbi didn't have to worry about keeping up the pretense of casual conversation with them, and back at home Phil and May had been content to hear that the game was fun and that Manitowoc had won. It seemed like they were both still having a little bit of a hard time with Skye, so Bobbi figured they had other things on their mind.
May had given her one of those x-ray looks she was so good at when Bobbi had said she was going upstairs earlier than usual, though. Fortunately, she didn't question Bobbi's excuse of being worn out from her full day, although Bobbi suspected that May might try to check in before bed. She and Phil did that every night – something that Bobbi was still trying to decide if she liked or not. On the one hand, it was nice to have a few minutes each day that were set aside especially for her, but on the other, it was sometimes hard to figure out just how much she was willing or able to share during their little chats.
It wasn't that she didn't trust May and Phil; on the contrary, they were some of the nicest adults Bobbi had ever met, much less lived with, but it was hard to just bare her soul to anyone, especially someone she'd only known a short while. That just wasn't the kind of person Bobbi was. Or at least, that wasn't the kind of person she'd been raised to be. Her life up until this point had been so focused on survival – on burying her emotions, hiding her thoughts and opinions, masking the parts of herself that got a rise out of her dad or rose the suspicion of others. Sharing her feelings didn't fit into that equation, so she'd never really had much in the way of practice. She could tell that May and Phil were hoping that she'd share more with them – Phil especially – but that was something she wasn't sure she could give them yet.
It came as a surprise, then, when the knock on her door half an hour later came not from May, but from Skye. It took Bobbi a few seconds to realize why Skye was there, but the doleful, expectant look on Skye's face served as a staunch reminder. Bobbi had promised her intel.
"Did you talk to Natasha?"
Bobbi nodded. "I did. It wasn't her, Skye. You were right to trust her." Skye let out a sign of relief, puffing her cheeks out slightly with the force of her breath. Bobbi felt the corners of her moth twitch at the sight, but managed to remain stoic. She didn't want Skye to think she was laughing at her, and she knew the next thing she had to tell Skye was serious.
"Natasha has an idea about who might have been the one to tell Grant," Bobbi said slowly. Skye's eyebrows shot up her forehead and she took an eager step towards Bobbi.
"Really?"
"Have you ever talked to a girl named Raina?" Bobbi asked. Skye's face wrinkled up into a frown.
"Yeah, once. She was almost my tutor, but Natasha came to my table first. She was asking me and Jemma questions about how we live with Phil and stuff like that, but something about her seemed weird, so Natasha got her to stop."
"Well, that's who Natasha thinks told. She said that Raina is friends with Christian Ward, and she's the only other person who knows you go to tutoring and about…you know, fostering."
"But why would she do that?" Skye wanted to know. She looked as confused as Bobbi felt. "She doesn't even know me, so why would she care about me?"
"I don't know," Bobbi admitted. "Natasha didn't really know either, but she told me to tell you to be careful, okay? Raina's… not a very nice person, apparently."
"She scared Jemma," said Skye quietly. "That day she talked to us. Jemma didn't like her."
"Well, then that's plenty reason enough to stay away from her," nodded Bobbi. "I trust Jemma's judgement about people, don't you?"
"Yes." Skye was quiet for a minute, deeply intrenched in thoughts that Bobbi couldn't discern.
"Speaking of Jemma's judgement," Bobbi said as something occurred to her, "have you talked to her? About what happened today? She's usually your go-to for stuff like this, isn't she?" A pink tinge began to creep up Skye's cheeks.
"She doesn't know. And don't you tell her," Skye ordered suddenly. Her tone had grown harsh in a flash, and Bobbi was a little taken aback by the force of her command. She held up her hands in surrender.
"I won't," she assured Skye. "But I don't understand why you wouldn't—"
"She has enough to worry about," Skye mumbled, the fire draining quickly from her. "She doesn't need to be worried about this, too. I don't want to weigh her down. She doesn't need to deal with Ward's stupid blackmail or his dumb threats or any of the other junk that comes out of his mouth."
"Skye, if this Ward kid is really messing with you, maybe you should…" Bobbi trailed off. Do what, exactly? Tell a teacher? Tell May and Phil? She felt like she knew Skye enough by now to know that wasn't really her style. Skye gave her a withering look that confirmed her suspicions. "I just mean, if he's making actual threats…"
"It's fine," Skye said flatly. "It's not like that. I have it under control. He's just a jerk, that's all." Her eyes didn't meet Bobbi's, and Bobbi had a sinking feeling that there was a lot more going on that Skye wasn't saying. She was guarded, on the defensive.
"Still, maybe you should think about telling Jemma what's going on. You guys share everything, and she's… well, maybe not tougher than she looks, but I know you two have been through a lot together. You're friends. She'd want to know if something was bothering you." A knot twisted in Bobbi's stomach at the hypocrisy of her own words, but she forced herself not to think about it too much. Skye's situation was different. She and Jemma had known each other for years, they were inseparable. Bobbi didn't have someone like that, who she was supposed to let in on everything.
"Maybe," was all Skye would say. She still wasn't looking at Bobbi, and Bobbi could tell that she had just about reached Skye's limits. Pushing anymore now would just backfire.
"Hey," Skye said abruptly, after another minute or two, "did you spend all the money that Phil gave you for the soccer game tonight?"
"No, why?" Bobbi was a little bewildered by both the dramatic change of subject and the brazenness of the question.
"Do you think I could borrow it? What you have left, I mean. I'd pay you back." Skye looked up at her for real this time, slightly sheepish, but with a steely determination that Bobbi was coming to understand was the normal for Skye.
"Do I want to know what you need it for?" Bobbi arched an eyebrow in her best impression of May. It must have worked, because Skye shrank slightly. She shrugged.
"I need to spend it on something. For a… project I'm working on."
"A school project?"
Skye didn't say a word, but the look she shot Bobbi sent her message loud and clear: "come on, who do you think you're talking to?"
"Okay, so a personal project? Don't you think you should be asking May or Phil about this?"
"There's just something I have to do, okay? It's not anything bad, I promise." Bobbi tilted her head to one side, considering her options. The right thing to do would probably be to not give Skye the money, or at the very least, make her be honest about what she was going to spend it on. But it was only three dollars that she had left, and she didn't think there was much that Skye could do with that.
The sound of footsteps coming up the stairs began to drift up towards them, and Skye's face grew desperate.
"Bobbi, come on, please? It's really important." Important. Important. Important. There was something so earnest in Skye's expression, something that made Bobbi want to believe her. She had never asked Bobbi for anything like that before, and for some reason, Bobbi found herself moved by Skye's plea. Hurriedly, before she could change her mind, Bobbi dug the handful of ones that she had left from her change out of her pocket and forked them over to Skye.
"Don't make me regret this, okay?" Bobbi said, staring hard into Skye's face. Skye nodded, thanked her profusely, then turned to go. "And Skye?" Bobbi called out, before Skye had left the room completely. "I really do think you should talk to Jemma."
If Bobbi had been smart, she would have asked more questions last night. If she had been more on top of things, she would have noticed the little ways in which Skye was acting differently at breakfast the next morning, not saying much, slipping a hand into her pocket more than once, like she was checking that something was still there. Instead, she hadn't been smart, and she hadn't been on top of things, and she had missed it all. She had chalked the odd behavior up to a roll-over of the bad mood Skye had been in yesterday. She realized her mistake when, as she was making her way towards fourth period history, Phil came rushing out the room, his face pale and his eyes a thousand miles away. He nearly barreled into her in his haste to leave the classroom.
"Phil, what's wrong?" Bobbi asked, snakey coils of dread curling up in the pit of her stomach. It was like he didn't even notice she was there.
"I… I just got a call from the school," he said. "It's Skye. She's gone."
Gah, I'm so sorry for the egregious cliffhanger! I promise, I'm already working ahead on the next chapters, so hopefully it won't be too long of a wait! Many thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing. I'm so glad to share AoS with you all :)