A/N: I have to go to work here in a few minutes, so I wanted to give you what I have finished for this chapter. Thanksgiving good feelings and other shenanigans coming in the next chapter, and depending on how I feel when I get home from work that will either show up tonight or tomorrow!

Thank you to everyone who reads/reviews/follows/favorites. You are the best!

Enjoy!

Summer tried to explain as calmly as she could, but her hands were shaking so badly that Skye got up, grabbed a chair, and forced her into it. Once Summer was seated, Skye grabbed Mr. Coulson and pulled him over.

Try again, Skye signed.

Summer looked at Mr. Coulson, tears streaming down her face, and she started to speak. The interpreter picked up the conversation, Skye watching both of them with worried eyes. "Pietro got a message that he needed to go into the school to sign some paperwork so his track team can go to the indoor meet next week. The athletic director is going to be out of town next week and Pietro didn't realize he hadn't signed the paperwork. He asked Wanda if she wanted to go with him and she said no, because she was working on something and she didn't want to be interrupted."

Skye leaned forward and took Summer's hand in hers, her eyes still on Mr. Coulson.

"He said he'd be right back." Summer was crying too hard to go on.

Skye stood up and wrapped her arms around Summer, feeling her sister's body shake as she sobbed. "We'll figure it out," Skye said, her voice wobbly and clogged.

Eventually Summer's breathing slowed and Skye pulled back.

Her sister started to speak again. "When he got there he found out he'd been lied to. The athletic director never texted him. He called the house and no one picked up. When he got back there, Wanda was gone and the equipment she'd been working on was smashed."

She would never do that, Skye signed.

Summer shook her head. "No. She would never do that."

Then Summer bit her lip. "And there's one more thing."

Skye's head was spinning. I don't want to hear it.

"Whoever it was… they made her take her bracelets off."

Skye let out a wail. Everyone in the room turned to her.

Why would he do that? she demanded, her hands angry. Why couldn't he just keep torturing me? Wanda never deserved any of this!

She realized she was speaking as well as signing, her words garbled and mad, and she put her hand to her mouth.

Summer reached for her, and Skye pushed away, looking around the dance studio like a panicked animal. The room felt very small.

Why? she begged Summer and Mr. Coulson. "Why?" she sobbed.

Now she understood why someone like Wanda would want to take a knife to herself – it was the feeling of absolute hopelessness and fear, being worthless and scummy and rotting on the inside, of having put everyone she loved into the path of an oncoming train. Skye found herself digging her nails into her wrists, crossing her hands and pulling them in towards her body.

Then Jemma was next to her, gently pulling her hands out and squeezing them.

"She's so good," Skye choked out. "Why… he hurt her?"

The phone rang, and Summer jumped as though she'd forgotten it was in her hands. "Hello?"

A pause.

"Wanda? Sweetheart, it's Summer. I'm so sorry, honey, I can't understand you. Can you speak English?"

Summer put her hand over the phone and looked around the room. Her eyes lit on Natasha. "This is going to sound terribly racist, but your name… do you speak Russian?"

"It's not racist," Natasha said, getting to her feet. "And yes, I do. It's one of the eight degrees."

Summer wordlessly handed her the phone.

"Da?" Natasha listened.

The room around them seemed to fall silent in waves, everyone's attention on Natasha and the phone. Jemma heard words she vaguely recognized – Natasha, Skye, Summer, Pietro – and figured Natasha must have been introducing herself and telling Wanda who she was.

Jemma clung to Skye's hand. Skye was still digging her fingernails into her wrist, her eyes frozen on Summer and Natasha.

At last Natasha turned to Summer. "She says she's by a grocery store and that there's a horse outside."

Mr. Coulson translated that to Skye, who furrowed her brow. That's Kennedy's Market off Oak Street, she signed. It has the mechanical horse.

"We know where that is," Summer agreed. "We can be there in ten minutes."

"I'll let her know," Natasha said, and she switched back into Russian.

"Is there anyone with her?" Summer asked.

Natasha shook her head and finished her sentence into the phone, then hung up. "I told her we'd be there as soon as we could. She said there was a man with her, but he dropped her off and left."

Let's go, let's go! Skye signed frantically.

"I'll call Pietro and let him know," Summer said. "Natasha, would you come with us? I'd like to be able to communicate with Wanda if she's still unable to function in English."

"Of course."

Summer turned to Mr. Coulson. "Will you call your friend Nick again? Seems like his first talk with Mr. Ward didn't stick."

Mr. Coulson nodded.

You come too, Skye signed to Jemma.

Only if you stop that thing with your wrist, Jemma replied, and nodded at Skye's arm, where the deaf girl's fingernails had dug into the soft skin on the inside of her wrist, leaving bright red moon-shaped dents.

Skye looked guilty.

It's awful and none of us deserve to deal with Grant Ward, Jemma went on, but you are always better than he is. Better than this.

Skye didn't say anything in reply, and then they were in the car, the snow still streaming down like falling glitter, and it was too dark for signing.

Wanda was outside the grocery store, the fluorescent light spilling over her as she paced back and forth. Her hands were pressed to her ears and from the way she was shaking Skye could tell she was crying.

The four of them – Skye, Summer, Natasha, and Jemma – got out of the car together, but Skye and Jemma hung back.

She's probably overwhelmed, Skye signed. It was a fairly lame statement, considering that the entire situation had happened to the most emotionally fragile member of the family.

Jemma just nodded.

Summer carefully approached Wanda, the girl's sobbing mixed with low mumbles. "Wanda, it's Summer. I'm here to take you home. Back to Pietro."

Wanda looked over at the pair of people approaching her. It was unsure who she recognized.

"I'm so sorry that this happened to you," Summer went on.

Natasha stepped forward and offered a sentence in Russian.

Skye saw Wanda's face relax slightly.

"Can we check and make sure you're all right?" Summer asked.

Natasha translated it into Russian, and Wanda nodded hesitantly.

"Okay," Summer said, and she carefully reached for Wanda's hand.

"No!" Wanda screamed, and flung herself away from Summer.

"Okay, okay," Summer said, holding her hands up. "We'll wait a minute."

Skye turned and reached into the car, pulling out the thermos she'd brought, and walked slowly towards Wanda.

Wanda's eyes followed her, and then she spoke. "Mishka?"

He's at home, Skye signed. I have hot chocolate for you.

Wanda nodded, and Skye opened the thermos and poured her a cup. Wanda took it with shaking hands and brought it to her mouth.

The warm beverage seemed to calm Wanda, and Skye was able to stand next to her and slip her hand into her sister's.

"Thank you," Wanda whispered, and Summer signed it for Skye.

Skye squeezed Wanda's hand.

"Would you feel safer in the car?" Summer asked. "Pietro's going to meet us at the house, but we can stand here for as long as you want."

"Go home," Wanda said, and Summer nodded. "Wait."

She tapped Skye on the shoulder. "This man… he is the one give you so much trouble?"

Skye nodded, her expression uncertain.

"You are so very brave, solnishka," Wanda said. "He was… he was very scary."

She pulled up her jacket sleeve to show Skye a bracelet of bruises on her arm, and the thick white worm of scar tissue on her wrist. "I am glad he hurt me."

"No," Skye said.

"I have hurt before," Wanda said. "You… he would break. I know hurt, I would do again for you."

She wrapped her arms around Skye.

When they were back at the house, with mugs of hot chocolate and a plate of cookies, Wanda was ready to tell them what had happened. She curled herself tightly into a ball and gripped Pietro's hand as she began to speak.

He'd come in through the back door of the workshop, the one that faced the woods, the one that was usually kept locked. Wanda thought he'd used some sort of lock pick, because she didn't hear him until he was actually in the workshop with her.

She had turned around to see him there. He was holding a gun.

At this point in the retelling Skye found that her legs gave out, and Mr. Coulson caught her before she hit the floor.

"Was very bad," Wanda said.

"As understatements go, I think that qualifies as an instant classic," Jemma muttered.

He had approached her, calling her by name, which had confused her. She was already off guard, but nothing he was doing made sense to her.

"I was scared," Wanda said. "He did not yell."

"Why was that scary?" Bobbi asked.

Wanda looked over at the blond girl. "Would have made sense for him to yell."

"People think yelling is best way to be angry," Pietro put in.

"Is scarier when quiet," Wanda agreed. She took a deep breath and squeezed Pietro's hand. "He said I must come with him or he would shoot."

Skye's stomach twisted as she watched Mr. Coulson sign this.

"I said no. He…" Wanda's voice choked in her throat. "He broke my work. Threw things. Ruined things. Never yelled."

She took another deep breath. "Why… why would he break things? Does he not know children who benefit from such things?"

"He's not a good person," Trip said firmly.

"Will take me days to get fixed," Wanda said.

"We'll help you in any way we can," Summer said. "And we won't let him go unpunished this time."

"After he broke the things, he looked at me as though he thought would make me afraid," Wanda went on. "Said he knew things about me."

She unconsciously rubbed her wrists. "Said he knew who I was. Called me coward. Took my…"

She was twisting the skin at her wrists as though trying to rub them raw. Pietro reached over and pulled her hands apart.

"Said he wanted… to show everyone," Wanda continued, her voice getting shakier. "He hit me. Took me to car. Drove around. Talked to me. Forgot much of it."

Her hands were shaking, and she clenched them, trying to make them stop. "Said for to tell Skye he could… he could…"

He could get to me anywhere, Skye signed, her heart breaking.

Wanda nodded miserably. "Then pushed me out of car."

Pietro wrapped his arms around her and they rocked back and forth together, Wanda sobbing into his shoulder.

"Where does this guy live?" Natasha asked from the back of the group.

Melinda turned to look at her. "He had a dorm room on campus. Now we're not sure."

"Why?" Maria gave the redhead a glance.

"You know me. I like to be the Welcome Wagon."

"I do know you, and you've never been the Welcome Wagon," Maria said. "More like the Krav Maga Wagon."

"Everyone's got something," Natasha said offhandedly.

Can Nick make him go away? Skye signed to Mr. Coulson. This, what he did to Wanda, that's a crime, right?

"No police," Pietro said.

"There is no shame in asking for help," Summer said.

"No police," Pietro repeated firmly.

"Things aren't like they are in Russia," Summer said. "The police will be able to help Wanda."

Pietro shook his head.

"I know you're afraid that they'll take you away and separate you, or send you back, but none of those things can happen. You're both adults, and you're both in this country legally. You're both citizens. You have the right to refuse treatment or help."

"Then we refuse," Pietro said. "We will wait for friend of Mr. Coulson for to help."

"Okay," Summer said. "I accept your decision."

Wanda brought her head up and asked Pietro a question in Russian. He nodded, and reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out her bracelets.

"Thank you," she whispered.

He kissed her on the forehead, and then moved his body so she was shielded from the rest of the room while she replaced the bracelets on her wrists.

Wanda looked up at Summer. "We stay here tonight?"

"Yes," Summer said. "You can stay here for as long as you want. It's your home too."