The first snow of the year finally came, although unfortunately for Skye, it happened to come on the night before she, Jemma, and Bobbi were supposed to go back to school, which made it somewhat more difficult to enjoy the powdery flakes that drifted and danced outside the kitchen window as she and Bobbi washed the dinner dishes. Normally, Skye loved the first snow of the year. It was one of the few times that the normally unrelentingly unpleasant world felt magical to her, with the air cold and sharp with new, clean possibility and the light catching just so on the icy crystals of each snowflake, causing the whole ground and sky to glitter with the promise of snowballs, crunching footsteps, and maybe even a day off school every now and then. Tonight though, as Jemma called her attention to the first few flurrying flakes on the other side of the glass, she couldn't quite shake off her nerves about tomorrow well enough to enjoy the snow as much as she normally would.
"Skye, look," Jemma called, drawing Skye's attention from the plates she was drying. "It's snowing."
"It's about time," Phil said. "We're almost a week into December. I was starting to think we'd never get some snow."
"You're just excited because now you can start hauling out the Christmas decorations," May teased with a smile. "I should have warned you girls: Phil goes a little overboard when it comes to Christmas. We had to make a deal a long time ago that he would wait until Thanksgiving was over and we'd had at least one snow before he could start decorating and playing his old holiday CDs."
"Christmas is great," protested Phil, chuckling. "There's beautiful lights and cheerful decorations. If you do it right, the holiday is about spreading joy and giving to those around you, which are two things I fully support. Plus the music is fun, the TV movies are classic, and there's nothing that smells better than a pine tree."
"Phil's mom once told me that when he was a little boy, maybe about four years old, he wanted to be Santa Claus when he grew up." May was barely containing her playful smile, and when Phil gave them all a bashful shrug, she lost the fight completely and surrendered to her grin.
"I honestly don't ever remember saying that," he confessed, "but my mom loved the story so much she told it practically every year after that, so it's kind of cemented in the family legacy at this point. I must have thought it would be the best job in the world to fly around on a magic sleigh and give presents to people, and really, as much as I love my current job, I don't think four-year-old me was all that wrong."
"I think most little kids are more interested in meeting Santa than being him," Bobbi pointed out with a laugh. "They'd rather get presents than give them out."
"I always did like to march to the beat of my own drum," smiled Phil. "And speaking of giving out presents, actually – have you girls given any thought to what you might like for Christmas this year?"
"We get presents?" Jemma asked, a little bewildered. Skye didn't blame her. Christmas at St. Agnes was more about going to extra mass and baby Jesus than Santa Claus, and the only presents they usually got were a candy cane and a little angel statue that most kids didn't bother keeping into the new year.
"Of course." Phil blinked, and looked like he was going to say something for a second, before he reined himself in. He paused to compose himself before he spoke again. "I can't promise you the moon or anything like that, but Melinda and I would really like to get you all something that you'd like. That's one of the things our family does to celebrate the holiday."
"How about a dishwasher?" Skye quipped from her position by the sink. Bobbi had just handed her the last wet plate to dry, and, not for the first time, Skye found herself wishing that there weren't quite so many dishes to do after every meal.
May snorted in an attempt to cover her laughter, and the corners of Phil's mouth twitched at that. "You know, we've been saying for years that we ought to look into getting one installed, but we never got around to it. When it was just the two of us living here, we never really generated that many dirty dishes, so cleanup was never all that hard. Maybe we need to revisit the idea now that we've got more dishes to wash."
"Some of my socks are getting holes near the toes," Bobbi suggested. "A couple new pairs might be nice."
"And maybe we could switch back to the toothpaste that came in the blue tube," added Jemma. "The taste of the red one isn't as good."
Phil's face fell, and he looked from girl to girl like he could hardly believe his ears. "Guys, come on. Socks and toothpaste and a dishwasher aren't really… I mean, if that's what you want, sure, but I was thinking more along the lines of something special. Something that would make you happy."
Skye felt her brow wrinkle slightly at that. It wasn't that she didn't feel happy these days – certainly there were things that made her happy. Working puzzles and playing board games with Jemma, Bobbi, May, and Phil made her happy. Feeling close to Jemma and Bobbi at night made her feel safe. Even opening up to May and Phil had, in its own, surprising way, helped her to feel better. But there was still so much bad stuff to counteract, so much to balance out. She honestly couldn't think of a thing, a present, that would make her feel any happier than she already was or wasn't.
"We don't need an answer right now," May said kindly, correctly interpreting the awkward silence that had befallen Skye, Jemma, and Bobbi. "Just give it some thought, and if you think of anything you might like, let us know. We'd really like to be able to give you something nice, something that you want."
Skye finished drying the last plate and clumsily stacked it back in the cabinet, her cast only clacking a little against the dishes. Chores complete, she turned back towards May and Phil. "Can we go outside and see the snow?"
"I don't see why not," Phil smiled. "Just grab a sweatshirt or something before you go out. It's pretty cold."
Phil was right about the temperature – it had dipped several degrees lower now that the sun was long gone from the sky – and Skye was glad for his suggestion, even as she scrunched her nose playfully at him before dashing off to grab something warm. There were thick, dusty clouds hanging low overheard, blocking the stars from sight, but the glimmering snowflakes that swirled around their upturned faces more than made up for that fact in Skye's opinion. She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply, savoring the cold clap of wind against her cheeks and the cold, clear smell of frost – almost like petrichor, but cleaner, crisper. Her lungs swelled and she felt the air sharpen her senses.
Tiny damp spots began popping up on her face as the saltant snowflakes leapt onto her cheeks for a fleeting flash before melting away against her skin, and she grinned into them. A warm hand slipped into hers, a stark contrast to the chilly air around them, and tapped lightly on the back of her hand. Jemma.
"It's gorgeous."
"Mm-hmm." Skye opened her eyes and snuck a peak over at Jemma, who was glowing brighter than the moon, smiling and soaking in the snowy landscape. She gave Jemma's hand a squeeze. "Snow is magic."
Jemma stuck her tongue out and giggled. "There's no such thing as magic." Before she could pull her tongue back into her mouth, a fat, feathery snowflake landed squarely on it, the white bursting against pink for a split second before vanishing from sight. Jemma's eyebrows shot up her forehead in surprise and Skye let out a laugh.
"Seems pretty magic to me."
The back door slapped behind them, announcing Bobbi's arrival into the backyard. She drew level with the pair of them and smiled at the sight.
"It's coming down harder than I was expecting," she remarked as she bent over to scoop up a handful from the ground. "Only an inch or so right now, but if it keeps up like this all night we might get close to six before the sun comes up." She let the powdery clump of snow slip from her fingers back to the frozen ground. Not quite good packing snow yet, Skye noted. She'd have to wait before she could craft a solid snowball.
"Do you think it'd snow enough that we'd get a snow day tomorrow?" she asked, trying her best to sound casual.
"We live in Wisconsin, in a school district without busses," Bobbi laughed. "We'd have to have at least a foot before they even thought about cancelling school. Hunter told me one time they were the only school district east of I-39 that was open after the lake dumped a whole bunch on them one February."
"I can dream," Skye sighed. She toed at the snow on the ground and watched as a little mountain piled up over her sneaker toe. She shook it off before it could soak down into her sock.
"You don't want to go back to school tomorrow?"
Skye shrugged one shoulder listlessly. She couldn't exactly pretend that she was eager to jump back into homework, pop quizzes, and gawking stares. Disappearing from school for almost two weeks and then reappearing with a cast on your arm was certainly intriguing enough to get the school rumor mill churning, she had no doubt, and she wasn't particularly interested in being put on display for all of the eighth grade to see and speculate on. Plus there was the not-so-small matter of school meaning that she'd have to spend the entire day away from Phil, May, and Bobbi.
"We'll get to see Fitz and Trip," Jemma offered. "That will be good. And we can probably sit out during gym, since we still have stitches in."
In spite of herself, Skye felt the corners of her mouth twitch. "That's true. No gym is always a plus."
"Seven hours," Bobbi said suddenly. Skye looked up at her, confused. "That's what I keep telling myself when I get nervous," Bobbi explained. "It's just seven hours. That's how long the day is. Seven hours of annoying stares and seven hours of being away from home. But compared to the time away we already went through, seven hours is a snap. We can do seven hours."
"You're nervous about going back?" Skye was a little surprised. Bobbi had her bad nights like the rest of them, but she had never indicated that she was anxious about being apart the way that Skye still couldn't shake.
"Sure. It's a big step back towards normal, but I don't really feel normal yet, so I'm not sure if I can handle it. But I just keep reminding myself it's seven hours. I can do seven hours. We all can."
"And we won't be alone," Jemma added. "We'll be together, and Fitz and Trip will be there."
"And I've got my friends and Phil," nodded Bobbi. "So if it turns out that I can't handle it, I know I have people who can help me, same as you."
"I guess so."
"You and May and Phil made that safety plan, right?" Bobbi asked. "That thing Dr. Garner said you should work on?"
"Yeah." It was true. After Dr. Garner's suggestion that the three of them work out a plan for her to use if she needed help at school, she, Phil, and May had done just that, even looping in Miss Hill and Mrs. Hinton via email, so everyone was on the same page. Skye knew that having the plan was supposed to make her feel better – more confident, Phil had said – but she wasn't sure it was working just yet. Plans were more Jemma's thing, mapping out possible outcomes and strategies for approaching different situations, whereas Skye rarely found herself thinking that far ahead in most cases. Usually she was more likely to have an idea pop into her head and run with it, adapting and adjusting on the fly as need be, but even Skye could admit that probably wasn't the best tactic to use tomorrow.
"Wow. It's really coming down out here." Phil's voice snapped Skye back to the wintery world around them, and she glanced back over her shoulder to see him and May both standing in the doorway watching them. Phil had one arm wrapped snuggly around May's shoulders, while she had one arm hooked around his waist. They fit together so perfectly, and the silvery light bouncing off the snow made their broad smiles sparkle. For a brief moment, Skye was overcome with disbelief that she was here, standing in the beautiful snow, being watched by two people who were smiling to see her, two people who loved her. But the looks on May and Phil's faces were so warm, so good, so sure, that her disbelief dissolved as quickly as it had come, melting away like the snowflakes that spritzed across her nose and cheeks.
"It certainly is beautiful," May hummed as she leaned into Phil's side. "There's nothing quite like the first snow."
"I always forget how good you look with snow in your hair," teased Phil. "Takes me back to college… that time on the roof, remember?"
"How could I forget? You remind me every year," laughed May.
"You went on the roof while it was snowing?" Bobbi's eyebrows were creeping up her forehead with incredulity, while Jemma shook her head.
"That doesn't sound very safe."
That made Phil chuckle and May smile again. She nodded in Jemma's direction. "You're probably right, Jemma. We were a little more reckless back then."
"Can we go on the roof while it's snowing?" Skye asked mischievously.
"No." May's voice was firm, but her eyes sparkled a little, and Skye knew that, while the answer was still the same, May was returning Skye's cheekiness and playing around with her. "No one's going up to the roof. We'd all slip and fall, and I'm not interested in taking anyone back to the hospital anytime soon. Besides, our roof is slanted. The roof Phil and I found in college was flat. Not quite so dangerous."
"Why were you up on the roof anyway?" Bobbi wanted to know. May and Phil suddenly looked very sheepish, and Skye bit back a giggle at the way they shuffled their feet and shifted back and forth like they had been caught doing something wrong.
"That's… probably a story for another time," Phil finally said with a bashful smile. "But I'll tell you this: Despite how serious she pretends to be, Melinda's got a little bit of a troublemaking streak in her. She used to be quite the prankster back in the day."
May's mouth fell open in mock outrage and she gave Phil a small, playful shove. "Don't act like it wasn't your idea to go and hide out on the roof, Phil. I didn't even know how to get up there until you dragged me through that door."
"I'm just glad we didn't get caught by the security guard," Phil laughed. "It made for a fun adventure with a happy ending. No regrets from me. Well," he said, after a beat, "maybe one."
"Only one?" May smirked.
"Just that I didn't kiss you that night," he said, one of his sappy smiles that he reserved for May melting across his face. "It was so pretty up there, and we almost had a moment. Kind of a missed opportunity on my part."
"You made up for it. And you can always make up for it again."
Before Skye had a chance to clap her hand over her eyes, Phil leaned over and kissed May, giving her shoulders a squeeze as he pulled her in close. Skye scrunched her nose in reflex.
"You guys are so gross," she groaned, although she wasn't quite so put-out as she was acting. While the kissing was definitely gross, the fact that May and Phil loved each other so much was so nice, it almost made up for it. Almost.
"All right, all right, I'll cut it out," Phil chortled. "I don't want to scar you for life. Besides, it's getting late, and cold. We should head inside, get ready for bed. We all have to be up early tomorrow."
Skye made another face as they traipsed back inside, knocking snow off their shoes before they passed through the door. As far as she was concerned, getting up early for school tomorrow was even more gross than kissing.
As far as mornings went, the next day wasn't as bad as Skye had half-expected it to be. Jemma still had to count her cornflakes, and Bobbi kept her batons with her even in the car, and Skye felt like a bunch of octopi were running a three-ring circus in her stomach she was so nervous, but they managed to dress, eat, and head out for the car without too much trouble.
Saying goodbye to May had been hard, harder than Skye wanted to admit. She gave them all sharp hugs as they passed her on their way out the door to the car, and promised to see them all after school.
"I'm planning on leaving work a little bit early, so I should be getting home at the same time as you," she said softly as she squeezed Skye's shoulder. Skye had lingered in the door longer than the other two, her feet suddenly very heavy now that they had to carry her away from home. "It's going to be okay, love. Today will be a good day. It'll go faster than you think it will."
"I… I know." Skye's voice stuck a little in her throat. She blinked hard a few times, trying not to let any tears build up a head of steam. She'd never make it to the car if she started crying now.
"I'm proud of you, Skye. I'll see you this afternoon. I love you."
"I love you, too."
The snow crunched under her feet as she tramped over to the car, following the footprints already left by Phil, Jemma, and Bobbi, and she focused hard on the satisfying squeak of packed snow under her rubber sole, on the sharp feeling of the cold air in the back of her throat, on the way her breath left a billowing cloud of train steam behind her, and not on the fact that she could feel her chest tightening with each step that took her farther and farther away from home. Seven hours. Just like Bobbi had said. It was only seven hours.
They got to the school faster than Skye would have liked, a blink-and-you're-there kind of car ride that didn't exactly give her much time to pull herself together before she had to face the onslaught of curious kids that was already churning around on the blacktop. Everybody was excited for the first snow, it seemed, as most kids were dashing around, dumping handfuls of snow over their friends' heads, chucking snowballs at one another, or making attempts at avoiding the frosty anarchy that dominated the schoolyard.
"Ready?" Phil put the car in park and twisted around in the front seat to get a good look at Skye and Jemma. "How are we feeling back there?"
Jemma didn't say anything, but her taps spoke clearly – they were a little nervous, maybe, but not panicked, not flighty. Jemma was ready. Skye wished she had half of Jemma's assuredness in that moment, but all she had was a knot in her stomach and a prickle in the back of her throat. Jemma put a hand on the door, about to open it up and knock down Skye's last domino of hope that she would just wake up and realize this whole day was a bad dream, that she had a few more days before she had to do this for real. The knot tightened, cinching around her insides painfully, and her already constricted chest felt like it was collapsing even further in on itself. She couldn't do this.
"My stomach hurts," she said. It came out more pitiful than she meant it to, almost a whimper, but there wasn't any space in her brain to focus on controlling how her voice sounded or caring about coming across like a baby. All she could think about, all she could see and feel, was her fear. And maybe it made her a coward, to crumble in the face of her fear like this. Maybe it made her weak or childish to give up when no one else seemed like they needed to throw in the towel, but she didn't know what else to do. Even if she couldn't quite say it out loud, she was scared, plain and simple. And, she realized, as her partial confession spilled out of her for everyone to hear, she wanted someone to help her.
"Does it hurt like you're feeling sick?" Phil asked gently. "Or more like you're nervous?"
It took a long time for Skye to get the word out, to admit to it, and her voice shook a little as she spoke. "Nervous. I… I don't want to go, Phil. I want to go home." Something hot burned at the corners of her eyes, in the back of her throat. Her ears went warm and she ducked her head, but no one laughed or acted like she had done something wrong. She shouldn't have been surprised, of course, she knew logically that Phil and Jemma and Bobbi would never make fun of her or punish her for being afraid, but her nerves were making her brain misfire a little bit, making her forget things she should already know.
Her vision was a little blurred by the dampness in her eyes, but she could make out the shape of Jemma's hand entering her view. When she felt the steady tapping on her own knee, she understood what Jemma was up to and turned a watery smile towards her best friend, her anchor.
"I know coming to school today feels like a really big step," Phil said, sturdy warmth and kindness mooring his words in the choppy seas that were crashing around in Skye's head. "It feels like a big step to me, at least. And I hear you, Skye. I want you to know that I hear what you're telling me. Taking a big step can frightening, and that's okay. It's okay to be scared about a new step, big or small. If you really don't want to go today, if you really feel like you're not ready and you can't go in, then we can figure something out. But I also think it's going to feel kind of scary whether you go back to school today or tomorrow or in another week. I'm not sure putting it off any longer will make it any less daunting. New steps can be scary, but that doesn't mean we shouldn't try to take them, right? That's how we start heading in the right direction, after all." He flashed a quick wink over at Jemma, who glowed at his homage to her mother's quote.
"Our steps are always easier when we take them together," Jemma murmured in agreement, her voice wrapping Skye in a hug even if her arms didn't. There was a brief pause in the tapping on Skye's knee as Jemma's fingers found their way to Skye's and tangled together. Jemma squeezed her hand. "I want you with me, but I understand if you have to stay behind today. It's okay."
So many times Skye had been the one to barrel ahead, the one to lead the way and pull Jemma along behind her, shielding her from the things that upset her, made her nervous. So many times Skye had felt like it was up to her to make sure Jemma was okay. Jemma took care of her too, of course, in that softer, quieter way that wasn't as obvious to other people, but on the outside, it was always Skye the protector. Skye the bold. Skye the fearless. She knew that wasn't always true, and she knew Jemma knew it too, but they kept up the routine of it. They played their roles well. But now it was Jemma who was bold, who was strong and brave, who was planting herself between Skye and the rest of the world and all the scary things in it. What had she ever done to deserve someone as good to her as Jemma was, would always be?
"Hold out your hand, Skye," Bobbi instructed from the front seat. She had been quiet for a long time. Listening, Skye supposed, maybe not sure what to do with shaky, quaky, unsure Skye. But now she was rummaging in her backpack until she found what she was looking for.
"Your baton?" Skye asked, a little awed as Bobbi tipped one of her batons into Skye's outstretched hand. It was heavier than Skye was expecting, but the wood was smooth and it felt strong in her hand. She had never actually touched one of Bobbi's batons before, since Bobbi was usually so protective of them.
"Just one," Bobbi smiled slightly. "I'm keeping the other one with me. That way we'll both have something to keep us steady today. And we'll both have something that lets us think about the other person. You can give it back to me when we see each other after school."
"Thank you," breathed Skye. The thickness in her throat returned, but no one seemed to mind.
"Well, what do you think, Skye?" Phil finally asked, after they had all let a few more moments of quiet settle over them. "Do you think we can try school today?"
Skye nodded. Her stomach still felt flip-floppy, and her lungs still felt a little tight at the prospect of saying goodbye, but she was willing to try now. Phil's words, Jemma's courage, and Bobbi's generosity had emboldened her and filled her with more confidence than she'd felt in weeks.
"That's my girl," beamed Phil. "You've got your safety plan, remember. You let your teachers know if you need to go check in with Mrs. Hinton. And May and I are just a phone call away if you need us."
With one final squeeze of her hand, Jemma opened the car door and slid out, pulling Skye along behind her. Skye tucked Bobbi's baton deep down into her backpack – really an old one of Phil's that she was borrowing, since her own backpack was probably still sitting somewhere in Cal's warehouse in Two Rivers. Skye didn't get as attached to stuff as Jemma did, but it had still been hard to make peace with the fact that she was likely never going to see her old backpack again. At least she still had her keychain that Bobbi had made, the one with the computer keys that Jemma had left as a breadcrumb in the park that night. It dangled from the new backpack now, which helped make it feel a little bit more like hers.
Phil stepped out of the car then, too, and he hugged them both tightly before they headed off towards the school.
"I'm really proud of both of you. Have a great day, okay? I love you."
Jemma tapped three times on Phil's hand as she and Skye both said "we love you, too" to Phil, and Skye held on to his hug for a split second longer than she needed to, taking that one extra moment to draw as much strength out of him as she could. And then, before she hardly knew what was happening, Phil gave them one last wave, and they turned to face the blacktop, shoulders squared against their uncertainty, hands locked together against their fear. Skye lifted her foot from the curb and took a step.