I forgot to post again!
Ahhh I'm so sorry. And I'm sorry for the cliff hanger.
I'll just leave this here...
CHAPTER WARNING: child abuse, language, violence
The fact that Natasha only had one bag with her made it easy for her to leave as fast as she could. She was pulling her bag behind her and winced when that movement tugged at her sore ribs and a flash a pain washed through her.
She tried not to let her discomfort show and continued to pull her bag behind her but Mr. Coulson noticed and said, "I can carry that for you Natasha."
She shook her head, "I'm okay."
Mrs. May studied her and grabbed onto the back of her bag so that she couldn't keep walking. She let out an irritated breath and turned to her teacher, "C'mon, we have to go get Skye."
Her teacher looked closely at her and Nat noticed how her gaze lingered on her split lip. Mrs. May and Mr. Coulson had already yelled at the group home parents for not reporting her injuries and for not giving her some first aid but the truth was that her social worker already knew about her split lip, she just didn't think it was anything to be worried about because John had told her not to, and the group parents had tried to help her clean up her lip but she hadn't let them touch her.
She hardened her gaze and put a hand on her hip but Mrs. May didn't seem fazed by her tough act. Instead, she leaned down, put a hand under Natasha's chin, and gently tilted her head so that she could get a better look at her lip, "How bad does it hurt?"
Natasha took a step back so that Mrs. May had to let go of her chin, "It doesn't."
Mrs. May took a step closer to her, "You don't have to lie, we just want to help, and we need to know what hurts so that we can help."
Natasha looked away from them and stared at nothing. They were wasting time, they needed to go get Skye.
Mrs. May was quiet for a moment before letting out a breath and gently saying, "The quicker you tell us what hurts, the quicker we can start helping Skye."
It was kind of sneaky how Mrs. May was using her impatience with helping Skye to get her to speak up, and if Nat wasn't so irritated, she probably would have been a little impressed. Sighing angrily, she turned back to Mrs. May and glared, "My lip doesn't hurt, it's just sore."
Her teacher nodded, "Okay, anything else?"
Natasha considered saying that nothing else was wrong, that her split lip was the worst of it, but for some reason, she wanted someone to know what was hurting. Some part of her wanted to be taken care of and even though she refused to acknowledge that part of her because she didn't need anyone to take care of her, she spoke up anyways, "I hurt my head."
"Where?"
She pointed to the side of her head, "Here, but I've had worse. It not that bad."
Natasha thought that she was being tough by saying that but the look that Mrs. May and Mr. Coulson shared with each other made her think that maybe that had been the wrong thing to say.
Mr. Coulson stepped forward and started to reach for her head but stopped and looked at her, "Is it okay if I have a look?"
Natasha looked at his hands, they were stretched towards her and looked gentle. He was asking for her permission to touch her and even though Skye trusted him, Natasha wasn't sure how she felt about Mr. Coulson yet.
She looked away from Mr. Coulson's hand and towards Mrs. May before pointing at her teacher, "She can."
Mr. Coulson didn't look angry, he just graciously took a step back so that Mrs. May could take his place. Natasha gritted her teeth as Mrs. May gently prodded her head until she finally found the sore spot. Her teacher must have noticed how she tensed up because she quickly lessened the pressure she was putting on her head and examined the area carefully.
It only took a few moments before Mrs. May was done with her examination and was stepping back, "There's definitely a bump there."
Her teacher had a worried look on her face and Mr. Coulson rested a hand on Mrs. May arm and asked, "Is there anything else?"
The constant ache in her ribs came to mind but rather than saying anything, she gave the two adults an impatient look and said, "We're wasting time."
Mrs. May said, "We aren't wasting time, this is important. Now, is there anything else?"
Lifting her chin, she leveled her teacher with a tough glare but that didn't seem to faze Mrs. May. They stared each other down until the concerned look in her teacher's eyes finally got through to her and Natasha relented, "Yeah, there's something else."
"Tell us please."
Natasha determinedly stared at the ground and pointed to her ribs. The ache intensified every time she breathed but she was doing a good job of ignoring it.
"Is it okay if I look?" Mrs. May's voice was soft and soothing but Natasha wasn't sure if she wanted her to see.
"Do I have to show you?"
Even though Natasha was making it a point to stare at the ground, she finally looked up when Mrs. May kneeled down in front of her, "You don't have to if you don't want to, it's your decision, but I think that it would really be helpful if I could see how bad it is."
The fact that this was all up to her, that she could make a decision and Mrs. May would respect it, was what had her agreeing to slowly tug up her shirt until her ribs were exposed.
She hadn't actually looked at her ribs until now, there had just been too much going on for her to give the pain in her chest too much attention, but when she heard Mr. Coulson and Mrs. May both suck in sharp breaths, she glanced down at herself.
There were dark, angry-looking red and purple bruises decorating her skin. They were kind of intriguing to look at and when she went to poke one, Mrs. May stopped her by grabbing onto her hand and saying, "Okay, new plan."
Natasha quickly looked up at her teacher, "What? I thought we already had a plan?"
Mrs. May shook her head, grabbed onto Natasha's bag before the little girl could protest, and started to gently lead Nat towards their car, "We did but now we have a new one. Let's go to the hospital."
Skye didn't think she could ever stop crying.
Everything was more wrong than it had ever been before. Her body hurt in so many different places and she had been in the closet for she didn't even know how long, falling asleep at one point. But none of those things mattered as much as Natasha being gone.
Skye thought about Natasha being hurt or in a really mean house and she started crying even harder.
"Shut the fuck up!"
The closet door suddenly swung open and Skye whimpered as John grabbed her arm and dragged her out. Skye's heart seized in her chest as she tried to thrash her away out of his grip.
"Shut up!"
Skye cried out as John threw her to the ground and searing pain jolted up her right arm.
John's eyes were dark and wild as he staggered back and forth across the room. Skye cradled her arm and curled into a ball, trying to hide her tears that she couldn't stop.
"John, what the hell have you done?!"
Skye had never been more happy to see Becky. She didn't want to be alone with John. Ever.
"I got rid of the other brat," John slurred. "You were passed out on the couch."
"Shit, John, she's going to tell everyone!"
"She already did. Nobody believes her." John leant against the wall. "I'm Chief of Police, sweetie."
"You're out of control."
John bristled and slapped Becky hard across the cheek, so hard that the woman staggered a couple steps.
Skye tried to curl even tighter in on herself, pressed as far back in the corner as she could. As John and Becky began to scream, she kept her eyes closed tight and tried to think about other things. Happy things.
But every happy memory had Nattie in it.
And Nattie was gone.
John and Becky had left the room as John's phone began to ring, leaving a trail of broken glass and bad words hovering in the air.
Skye shifted slightly and felt something poke into her thigh from her pocket. With her good arm, she carefully eased out a piece of paper. On it were numbers.
Her eyes widened with recognition.
This was the piece of paper Mr. Coulson and Mrs. May had given her and Natasha. This was their phone number.
Skye gently stroked the piece of paper, carefully feeling its edges. She knew the only phone in the house was smashed and there was no way she would get John's cell phone, but that didn't matter.
Because this card was proof that someone cared about her and Natasha.
It was barely anything, but Skye held it to her chest and cried because it was all she had.
"You wanna keep that hand?" Natasha glared threateningly at the nurse who had been reaching towards her. The nurse took a hasty step back and glanced over to where Mrs. May and Mr. Coulson were standing behind her.
On principle, Natasha didn't like the nurse standing in front of her. She didn't like how he kept trying to reach for her, she didn't like how he kept talking to her in a tone of voice that Natasha usually heard adults use when they were talking to dumb little kids, and since she was on a roll here, she didn't like the tiny smiley faces on his light blue scrubs. She really didn't like how tall he was and how big his arm muscles were, Nat thought that she might be able to put up a fight if he did something bad but she didn't think she would last too long since he looked so strong.
Mrs. May cleared her throat and Nat looked over to her when she said, "Natasha, he's trying to help."
She casted a mistrustful look back towards the nurse and then glanced back over to her teacher, "I don't like him."
The nurse cleared his throat, "I'll just go grab the doctor."
Mr. Coulson smiled and thanked the nurse before she heard the door open and assumed that the nurse left the tiny room that they were all crammed into.
Mrs. May gave her a questioning look and said, "What's wrong? You said you'd let them help."
Her teacher didn't sound accusatory, just curious and slightly concerned, but Natasha tensed up anyways, "Nothing."
Tilting her head, Mrs. May took a step towards her and Natasha let her, "This is the best way to help you and Skye. What can we do to help make this easier?"
Mr. Coulson nodded behind Mrs. May and Natasha turned to look at her shoes. For some reason, staring at her dirty shoelaces reminded her of Skye and her little sister's inability to tie her own shoes. Once she allowed herself to think about Skye, it was like she couldn't stop. She wondered if Skye was alright, if she was hurt or scared or if she was able to sleep. She knew that neither John nor Becky would make Skye dinner, they wouldn't help her get ready for bed or make sure she brushed her teeth. They wouldn't read her her favorite story and give all the characters silly voices just to make Skye laugh.
Natasha didn't know why she was being so selfish, all she had to do was let some doctors check over her while Skye was all by herself in a house full of monsters.
Taking a deep breath, she looked back up and her teacher and said, "I want a girl doctor, I don't like boy doctors."
Her teacher nodded seriously at her after exchanging a look with Mr. Coulson, "I can make that happen."
Mrs. May slipped out of the room and left her alone with Mr. Coulson.
She studied him for a few moments and he didn't say anything, just let her stare at him.
He had a kind face and Natasha knew that the slight wrinkles around his eyes meant that he laughed and smiled a lot. Nat could see why Skye liked him so much, he looked like the polar opposite of John.
"Do you think Skye's alright?"
Mr. Coulson thought about her question for a second and Nat appreciated that he was taking his time to think of an answer and not just telling her a lie or what she wanted to hear, "I hope she's alright Natasha, I really do."
She nodded at him and played nervously with her fingers, "Do you really think we can get her?"
This time, Mr. Coulson didn't have to think about his answer, he immediately said, "We won't stop until we get her away from them, I promise."
Natasha bit her lip, nodding slowly.
"She's probably so scared."
The words left her mouth before she could stop them. She didn't want to talk to Mr. Coulson about this because it hurt to think about, let alone say, and she might cry, but it was too late and the words were already out.
To her surprise, Mr. Coulson didn't rush to comfort her, instead his face grew solemn, his blue eyes full of concern. He really cared, Natasha realized.
"I'm worried too, Natasha. All we can do is get to her as soon as possible."
Natasha gave him a small nod and when May came back with a female doctor who started examining her, Natasha didn't put up a fight.
Tripp's phone buzzed in his pocket and he nearly knocked over his coffee trying to get it out as quickly as possible.
"Coulson," he said quickly, "What's your status?"
"The hospital is filing a report of suspected abuse. God, Tripp, that man is ruthless." Phil's voice was laced with barely controlled fury.
"Is the kiddo okay?" Tripp's stomach clenched with worry. It was extremely uncharacteristic for Phil to be so angry.
"She's sporting a couple broken ribs, one of them was pressing into her left lung, luckily it didn't puncture. She's going to be okay. But we need to get Skye out of that house as soon as possible." Phil's voice was tight. "When I think about her trapped there... oh god Tripp... The only thing that's keeping me back is the fact that if I break the law and get her, they'll take them away from us and they'll go back into the system. But she can't be in that home, Tripp." There was an edge of desperation in the older man's voice.
"As soon as we get the report, we'll be there," Tripp promised quickly. "We're going to get her."
As if on cue, Officer Peters entered the room, face grave, and made a motion for Tripp to get off the phone.
"I've got to go, Phil, I'll keep you updated." He quickly pocketed the cell and turned to his superior officer.
"We've got a report from the hospital of suspected abuse and Garrett has stopped answering his phone and is not following my request that he come in. We're going to have to bring him in and remove the kid from the house." Officer Peters nodded at Tripp who quickly stood up.
"I'll go with you," he offered quickly, already grabbing his jacket.
The office was eerily quiet, nobody really wanting to talk about the accusations against their chief. Tripp knew that until they had facts, nobody would be able to fully realize the implications of the actions of their chief.
"The social worker is going to meet us there to pick up the girl," Officer Peters informed Tripp.
"We should probably have back up," Tripp cleared his throat, staring steadily at his superior officer who slowly nodded.
"We don't know what the situation is, but that's probably a good idea."
They hadn't listened to him before and now they were facing the consequences of that. Honestly, Tripp didn't care about anything but getting that little girl out of the house and into Phil and May's arms.
"Let's head out."
The evening sky was dark with rainclouds, water pouring down onto the deserted streets.
Soon they were pulling up to the neat little blue house. The lights were on and a car was in the garage.
Someone was home.
Tripp tapped his hip to make sure all his gear was there, took a deep breath, and stepped out of the car and into the pouring rain.
Officer Peters led the way to the door, firmly knocking.
The silence was heavy for a couple minutes, raindrops dripping onto them, soaking into their hair and clothes. And then the door cracked open.
"Boys, what's going on?" Chief Garrett peered out, face slightly flushed.
"We've been trying to call, you need to come into the station."
"My phone died. What's the problem?" Something in Garrett's expression changed slightly and Tripp found himself tensing.
"We have a filed abuse suspicion from the hospital where your previous foster daughter is. That makes two within the one last month. You need to come in and answer some questions."
"You can't arrest me, I'm your boss," Garrett's face hardened.
"It's not an arrest, we need you to come in so we can figure out what is going on..." Officer Peters hastened to say.
"But first, the social worker has to take the little one," Tripp added.
"You can't take my daughter away from me!" Garrett's voice rose.
"I'm sorry, sir, but she can't be in your house right now." Tripp took a step forward. "Where is Skye?"
A car pulled up behind them, lights glimmering through the rain. Hopefully it was the social worker.
Something flickered in Garrett's eyes.
"Asleep," he answered quickly.
They both knew he was lying.
"I think it's best you tell us the truth and cooperate," Officer Peters said in a low voice.
Garrett's expression quickly changed to one of anger.
"Fuck you," he growled. "I'm firing both of you the second I get into the office!" He started to close the door but Tripp grabbed it.
"Nuh uh. I'm not leaving here without the girl." Tripp yanked the door open and pushed his way in.
Glass was all over the floor, and some splatters of blood. On the couch, a woman was lying unconscious, one eye blackened.
"Holy shit... call an ambulance!" Tripp rushed forward to check on the woman and was relieved to find she was merely unconscious and the blood was flowing from a long but relatively shallow cut on her arm.
"What the hell?!" Officer Peters turned to face Garrett. "You're under arrest."
"I'd like to see you fucking try to arrest me."
Tripp heard the unmistakable click of a gun and turned to see Garrett pulling out a firearm.
"Get down!" he yelled, tackling the chief of police as the gun discharged.
The room was filled with shouts as back up arrived, and at some point in the chaos, Tripp found that someone was helping him restrain Garrett, handcuffs clicking into position. Somewhere in the distance, sirens wailed, mixing with the low voice of an officer reading Garrett his Miranda rights.
"We can't find the girl," another officer reported, footsteps clunking down the stairs, his words causing Tripp's chest to clench with fear.
"Where is Skye?" Tripp shouted, grabbing Garrett's shirt as another officer hauled the chief to his feet. "Where is she?!"
"I don't know!" Garrett spat.
"Answer me!" Tripp punched him, hard, sending the larger man staggering back against another officer.
"Whoa! Tripp, stand down!" Hands grabbed Tripp's arms, holding him back.
"I don't know where she is," Garrett growled, spitting blood onto the ground. "I thought she was in her room."
"Take him back to the station," Officer Peters ordered, giving Tripp a worried look. "Search the house again."
Tripp moved around the EMT's working on the unconscious woman to go up the stairs. One of the bedrooms had the door kicked in, children's books scattered haphazardly across the floor.
After thoroughly searching the house and yard, it became clear that the little girl was not there.
I'm so sorry. Hang in there, it'll be Monday again soon!
~silverlining