A/N:I'm so sorry for the delay, but I've been weirdly ill for the past week. As it happens, I think I'm better...I think. Anyway, enjoy the chapter!
After the call ('the call', Bobbi was calling it in her head), she had found herself going through the motions, reacting far too calmly for the weight and severity of the situation. Perhaps that was a sign that she was really growing up. Perhaps it was a sign of early onset traumatic stress. Bobbi chose not to dwell on it.
Back in Tony Stark's wine cellar, all the person on the other end of the phone had told Bobbi was that her parents had been in a nasty car accident and were being taken to the local hospital. She'd asked about Skye, and the woman on the phone had confirmed that there had indeed been a child in the car with the adults, and would also be taken to the hospital. The call had ended and that was it.
Lance had tried to calm her down, to tell her everything was going to be okay and that she shouldn't panic, but in the end, his words of comfort hadn't been necessary. Bobbi had hung up the phone, allowed a few minutes of dread to wash over her, and then had pulled it together. The tears stopped, the trembling stopped, and she instead became the big sister, the leader, the one in charge.
It was what Bobbi needed to hold herself together, a purpose. Nat and Clint were drunk and passed out. They needed Bobbi. She would be forever grateful that Hunter knew she wanted to be the one calling the shots, and let her get on with it, doing exactly what she asked of him with a practiced ease.
Sobering up Nat and Clint had proved easier than Bobbi had anticipated. It turned out that informing them that their parents and little sister were potentially seriously injured in hospital, did wonders to break them from their drunken stupor. Distressing? Yes. But effective? Definitely.
Tony had been kind enough to drive Bobbi and the others to the hospital. The drive had been quiet, Bobbi had sat in the back with her sister and Clint while Hunter rode up front. Even Tony, usually too mouthy for his own good, kept quiet, and when Bobbi told him to go back home once they had arrived at the hospital, he did. Tony had hugged Bobbi, told Hunter to give him a call when they found anything else out, and had left to go back home to his girlfriend and their son.
That had been hours ago. Too many hours and too little information from the hospital had left all four of them tired and irritable. Bobbi's handle on herself was slipping.
Clint had taken to sitting on the linoleum floor in the E.R., resting his head on the row of plastic chairs and nodding off every few minutes. Bobbi noted that he'd taken out his hearing aids, but didn't mention it. Nat had been quiet all night, too, sticking to Bobbi like gum on a shoe sole. Her younger sister had been fighting sleep for most of the night, pale and shuddering from what Bobbi assumed was a mixture of shock and after affects of the wine. Eventually, though, Nat had given up her battle and laid her head down in Bobbi's lap, out light a light within seconds. Clint kept a hand on her ankle.
Bobbi stroked Natasha's hair, nails raking gently along her scalp. It was a little knotted, not as silky as it usually was and the smell of chlorine wafted up to Bobbi's nose every time she took a deep breath. A few hours ago they had been messing around like kids in Tony's pool. So much had changed.
The rhythmic combing through her little sister's hair was the only thing grounding Bobbi enough not to begin freaking out. Well, that and grinding her teeth against the puckering fabric of her sweater sleeve. Her Mom would tell her to stop, but Mom wasn't there. Mom was somewhere holed up in the freaking hospital where Bobbi couldn't be with her.
She pushed the damp fabric further into her mouth with the tips of her fingers until it caught in between her molars and Bobbi could chew on it properly. Her hand stilled in Nat's hair when Hunter walked over from the front desk. He had dark circles under his eyes and gave her an apologetic smile as he reached their little group.
"Still won't tell me anything, love." Hunter grumbled. "I'm trying."
He'd been back and forward to the reception area of the hospital asking about her parents and Skye, but they still wouldn't give up any more information than the facts Bobbi had been given over the phone. In fact, in the past couple of trips to the front desk, the clerk had given Lance even less information, refusing to update him at all on the condition of Skye.
Lance ran a hand over his face. "They're keeping their lips zipped." He sat down by her feet and reached up slowly, gently taking her wrist and pulling her hand away from her mouth. Lance laced his fingers with Bobbi's, seemingly unbothered by the wet sweater sleeve, and rubbed his thumb over the back of her hand.
"Same old?" Bobbi asked.
"Yeah." He sighed. "Mel and Phil are okay, can't tell us anything more than that. Just that they're okay, won't tell me about your Mum's-," He cut himself off but Bobbi barely noticed, "And they're just refusing to tell me anything about Skye. I don't even know why. I can't understand it."
"Me neither." Bobbi said. She moved her hand from Nat's hair and started absently twisting the earrings in her little sister's ear. "When they won't tell us anything, it makes me think it's because it's bad news."
"Nah." Hunter shook his head. "It's the opposite, surely? If it were bad, they'd have to tell us, right? I mean, that's how it works."
"Is it?"
He pressed his lips together. "I don't know, love." Lance squeezed her hand. "I hope I'm right, though."
Bobbi nodded. "Yeah, me too."
…
Skye had been upset before, been distressed before, been heartbroken before, but Skye had never ever felt like this. This feeling, the feeling of dread and fear and utter devastation that was consuming her, was all brand new. Skye was distraught. Her broken wrist was nothing compared to the gripping fear she felt in her chest and tummy.
"I'm not leaving." She said in her biggest voice. Tears caught her words but she gripped onto Mommy's arm and sat up straight in the hospital bed. "I'm not leaving."
Abby shook her head. "I'm sorry, Skye-,"
"No. I'm not leaving."
"You have to." Abby said louder. She looked sad, and sorry, but her voice was firm. "I know you don't want to, but you have to."
Skye narrowed her eyes. "I don't have to do anything." She said.
Mommy's grip around her waist tightened. "Baby…"
"You can't make me do anything. You can't force me." Skye's tone came out far more confident than she felt. She turned to her Mommy. "Abby can't make me go with her, right?"
Mommy didn't say anything, she just pulled Skye down and hugged her tightly to her chest. Skye listened to the thrum of Mommy's heart, much faster than it had been just minutes before, and held onto her securely. Mommy wouldn't let her be taken away. Mommy had promised, she had promised that Skye would never have to leave. She had promised.
Skye pressed her face into Melinda's collarbone. "Don't let her take me back. You promised. Mommy, please. Don't let her take me, Mommy."
"Melinda," Abby said in her 'firm' voice, "you know this is not an optional transition. You know that."
Mommy hugged Skye even tighter, so tight it actually hurt, properly hurt, trapping her casted arm between them so that it dug hard into her chest, but Skye held her back just as firm. A part of her thought that maybe if she held onto Mommy tight enough, Abby would never be able to take her away. Another part of her, the older, more rational part, said that Skye was fighting a losing battle.
"Baby," Mommy whispered to her, "my baby girl. You know I love you, right?"
Skye sobbed. "I love you, too."
"Tell me, tell me, Skye that you know how much I love you. Please, I need to hear that you understand how much I love you."
"I understand." Skye said. "Mommy, don't make me go away."
Mommy was crying, her chest shuddering under Skye's cheek. "I'm so sorry, Skye. I love you. I'm so sorry."
"No, Mommy. Please, Mommy. No."
"Melinda. This needs to be done." Abby said. "It's the law. It doesn't mean it's forever."
"But what if it is?" Mommy said. "You can't guarantee me that everything's going to be fine, Abby. You can't do that."
"You're right. I can't do that, and I'm not going to." Abby sighed. "I don't want to be the bad person here, but I need to do my job."
Skye closed her eyes as tight as she could.
"I'm sorry I'm having to do this." Abby said. "But I can only say I'll do my best to make this right. Melinda, I know you're a fantastic parent. You and Phil. I'm on your side."
Mommy laughed bitterly. "Forgive me for feeling like you're not on my side right now." She kissed Skye's head. "This isn't fair. It's not fair on Skye."
"I agree with you." Abby said quietly. "But it has to be done. I'm going to step out for a few minutes, give you some time to say goodbye."
Skye heard the hospital room door open and close, and then it was quiet. Abby and the doctors were gone. It was just Skye and Mommy, and the baby in her tummy, and maybe they would all be able to go home soon and Skye would be able to cuddle with Daddy and Nat and Bobbi. Maybe it was all going to go away.
It wasn't. Skye was eight, she was a child, but she wasn't stupid. Mommy and Daddy taught her that.
Her eyes were still closed and she still held on tightly to Mommy. It was a nightmare, it was worse than many of her nightmares.
"Mommy?" Skye asked.
Mommy held the back of her head and stroked her fingers through Skye's hair. "I'm so sorry."
"Mommy?"
"Yes, baby?"
Skye laid her hand against her Mommy's chest, feeling the beat of her heart drum under her palm. "I have to go away."
"Skye-,"
"Abby's gonna take me away, isn't she?"
Mommy started crying hard again, and Skye found her own tears stemming, even though the sobs continued to wrack her chest. Skye unwound her arm from around Mommy, keeping one hand over her heart, and extracted herself from Mommy's grip. She sat up to see her properly.
"Mommy, why do I have to leave?"
Mommy put a hand on her cheek. "Because you're just too good for me."
"That's not true." Skye said.
"It's very true, Skye." She kissed her. "You're too good for me."
"Will it be forever?" Skye bit her lip hard to stop the tears. "Will I have to leave forever?"
Mommy shook her head. "I will never rest until I get you back to me, baby girl. That, I can promise you."
"You promised I'd never have to leave."
Mommy held Skye's face between her hands. "You see how you're too good for me? I'm so sorry I've broken my promise. I'm so sorry."
"It's not your fault." Skye said. She just wished Mommy would stop saying 'sorry'. It wasn't changing anything. Saying she was 'sorry' wasn't making Abby leave without Skye. "I don't think it's your fault."
There were still tears on her cheeks, but Mommy wasn't crying anymore. Instead her face was serious, and when she spoke to Skye, Skye knew she had better listen.
"I need you to understand, even just a little bit, why this is happening." Mommy said. "Because it's not your fault, Skye, it's not."
"Then why do I have to go?"
Mommy sighed and closed her eyes. When she opened them, she pressed her forehead against Skye's. "There are some people who seem to think that you'll be better off without your Daddy and I for a while."
Skye shook her head. "No. They're wrong."
"They are." Mommy agreed. "But they're in charge, and it's hard to make them change their minds."
"Maybe I could talk to them?" Skye suggested. It was worth a shot. Maybe she could turn on the charm, bat her eyelashes a few times and get the people in charge to let her stay with Mommy.
"That's a sweet idea, Skye, but it doesn't really work that way." Mommy smiled sadly. "The car crash," she paused, swallowing hard, "it was someone's fault-,"
"Not yours." Skye said with certainty.
"It was someone's fault. It was, and it might have been mine. The police, they need to figure out who's to blame, and until they do, the people in charge say you need to go back with Abby."
Skye frowned and pulled Mommy's hands away from her face. "But why?" She asked. It made no sense. Mommy and Daddy hadn't done anything. It wasn't their fault.
Mommy looked down at Skye's cast. "The police just don't want you to get hurt again."
"But you won't hurt me." Skye said quietly.
"And don't you ever for get that." There was a sound behind Skye and Mommy looked away, past Skye, to the hospital room door. "I was distracted in the car, Skye. It was my fault. I'm sorry. But it was my fault."
"But it wasn't." Skye said. Mommy was right, she had been distracted, Daddy had been, too because they had been fighting, and Skye hadn't liked it at all, but the crash hadn't happened because of the fight. "Mommy, it wasn't-,"
The door opened and Skye turned to see Abby standing in the doorway with Doctor Vic. There were more people behind them, but Skye ignored them all and turned back to her Mommy.
"Please don't make me go." Skye begged, wrapping her arms around her Mommy's neck. "Please. Please. Please."
"I don't want you to leave me, Skye." Mommy cried. "This isn't my decision. But it has to be done. Be a good girl. I'm sorry. I love you. I love you. I love you."
"Time to go." Abby said. She coughed. "Come on, Skye."
"No. No. No. No. No." Skye chanted. She hid her face in her Mommy's chest, her little fingers white with their grip on the hospital gown. "I don't want to. It's not fair. It's not fair."
Mommy pulled Skye impossibly closer, holding the back of her head with her hand. She pressed her lips to Skye's ear, the hot breath uncomfortable but so welcome if it meant that Mommy was near.
"You listen to me, baby girl." Mommy whispered to her.
Skye held her breath to quell the sobs, desperate not to miss a single syllable.
"I've broken a promise to you, and that is never okay, but I'm going to make you another one that I won't break. One I cannot break."
Skye nodded, still listening intently.
"From the moment you leave my arms, until the moment you are back in them for good, I will never stop trying to make this right? Okay? I will fight to get you back to me, baby girl. Do you believe me?"
"Yes." Skye breathed. "I believe you, Mommy."
Mommy kissed her and spoke once more. "I love you. I love you so much."
"I love you, too, Mommy."
"Okay, we really need to leave." Abby said.
"Yeah." Mommy nodded at her then turned back to Skye. "I love you. Daddy loves you. Nat and Bobbi, Clint and Hunter, we all love you. Skye, you are wanted."
Skye felt the tears start streaming down her face again. She kissed Mommy's face all over, and hugged her tighter than she ever thought possible, until Abby lifted her from the bed, took her hand and led her out of the room.
Doctor Vic was standing by the door looking as though she were about to burst into tears, but Skye barely spared her a look. If this was anyone's fault, it was hers. Doctor Victoria had called the people in charge. She had made this happen.
Skye kept her eyes on the ground, relying on Abby's grip on her hand to lead her safely. Honestly, Skye didn't care. She'd rather get lost among the throngs of people in the hospital that go back to the one place that she knew better than anywhere, and hated more than anything else.
A police officer followed them down the corridors, through the lengths of hallways and through doors, until Abby and Skye reached a wide-open space filled with chairs and people and talking. The officer hadn't said anything to them the whole time, but now he spoke to Abby in quiet whispers that Skye could still hear but couldn't be bothered to care about.
"I'll leave you to take her from here." The police officer said. "We'll try to get this sorted ASAP." He said to Abby. " I got kids at home. Seeing her like this is killing me."
"Yeah, well," Abby said, "ripping a happy child away from her parents is hardly a walk in the park for me either."
Skye stared at her feet, still in hospital socks. She didn't even have her clothes Mommy and Daddy had bought for her. She didn't have her backpack from home with all of her stuff. She didn't even have Mr. Snow, and that thought alone was enough to make her tears become frantic. She ripped her hand away from Abby's, threw herself onto the floor, and screamed.
…
Nat had awoken a few minutes earlier with Bobbi's hand in her hair, Clint's on her leg, and the overwhelming urge to puke forcing her off the plastic chairs and sprinting towards the bathrooms with a hand over her mouth. She was crying even before she made it into the cubicle, retching and coughing too soon for all of the watery vomit to make it into the toilet.
Natasha gagged as she sobbed, not entirely sure which bodily function was triggering which. Hands pulling her hair back into a ponytail alerted her to Bobbi's presence, and even after Natasha found nothing else to throw up other than a nasty- looking bile, Bobbi held her close and stroked her cheek and cried with her.
The sisters stayed in the cubicle, on the ground with the door locked, for a long time. Someone knocked timidly on the door and asked and if everything was alright, and Bobbi fed whoever it was some bullshit about her being a little sick. It worked, they were in a hospital after all, and the then they were left alone again
"Come here." Bobbi said quietly. He cheeks showed signs of tears and her eyes were red, but her voice was strong and sure. She unzipped Nat's hoodie, careful not to get any of the vomit on Natasha. "We'll just clean this when we get home, okay?"
"Just put it in the trash." Nat muttered, closing her eyes.
"I can wash it, Nat, it's fine."
"I said just put it in the trash." Natasha snapped, opening her eyes to glare at her sister. "Just, I don't, just…" Her breath caught as another sob shuddered through her chest.
Bobbi nodded, but kept the soiled hoodie wrapped up on her lap. "You're okay." She said. Bobbi wrapped Nat up in her arms and guided her head to her shoulder. "You're okay, Bubba. You're okay." She grabbed some toilet roll and wiped at Natasha's mouth.
Nat sniffed. "Are Mom and Dad okay?" She bit hard into the inside of her lip. "And Skye?"
"I think so." Bobbi said, flushing the mess away.
"Why won't they tell us anything, Bobbi?" Natasha ripped a tiny piece of skin away from the inside of her lip with her teeth.
"I don't know. I'm sure it'll all be okay." Bobbi smiled at her. It was far too forced to be comforting. "And hey, maybe by the time they let us see Mom and Dad, you'll be over your hangover."
The joke fell flat and Bobbi shook her head. "I'm sorry, Tasha. I just don't know what to do."
Nat nodded. "I'm scared."
Bobbi hugged her and pressed a kiss to her temple. "Me, too."
The two of them cleaned up in the bathroom and walked back out into the waiting room. Clint stood anxiously outside of the women's restrooms, looking Nat up and down when she exited.
"Everything okay?" He asked. "Nat, you need anything? I can get you something?"
She smiled at him and shook her head, dropping her head slightly. "Just maybe a hug."
He didn't react and Nat looked up, noting the absence of aids in his ears. She repeated herself, accompanying the words with the practiced gestures of sign language.
Clint nodded and wrapped her up in his arms. His breath was rank, and Nat assumed after vomiting up half a bottle of red wine, hers couldn't be any better, but he was warm and safe and everything Natasha needed right now in her life.
Her Mom, Dad, and baby sister were hurt. That's all she knew on the topic and it was killing her. Another wave of nausea rolled over her and Natasha had to close her eyes and breathe through her nose until it passed. Natasha was hardly an angel. She was nineteen and away from home at college for most of year, a hangover wasn't exactly new territory for her, but this, this disgusting sick feeling wasn't down to the booze. She wanted her Mom and Dad. This was all anxiety.
Bobbi returned to hers and Clint's sides, having sought out a plastic bag in which to put Natasha's dirty hoodie. Her sister handed it off to Clint.
"We'll wash it when we get home." Bobbi said. "It'll be good as new."
Nat nodded. "Okay."
"Good girl." Bobbi kissed her head.
Tasha rolled her eyes. "I'm not a baby, or a dog."
"You're not a dog, Tashy," Bobbi smiled, "but you're my baby sissy. For ever and ever."
Natasha laughed, and it felt weird to be able to do such a jovial thing when the circumstances were so dire, but it also made her forget about the nausea for a few seconds and allowed the anxiety to dissipate. That was until Clint's grip on her tightened and his face fell.
"What the fuck is happening?" He breathed, and Nat and Bobbi turned to where he was looking just in time to see their baby sister throw herself onto the ground and scream.
"Skye!" Bobbi was already shouting and half way to the little girl before Natasha even had time to react. She and Clint followed, watching as Skye looked up and launched herself at Bobbi.
"She's taking me away." Skye cried, gripping Bobbi with one hand and holding out the other, in a blue cast, to Natasha. "Tell her to let me stay with Mommy and Daddy. I don't want to go."
Natasha glanced at the woman now attempting to remove Skye from Bobbi's arms and pieces that made absolutely no sense, began working their way into a pattern that had Nat's nausea twisting her insides. Abby.
Hunter rushed over and stepped between Abby and Bobbi. "Sorry, love, but this is our kid. Go and find your own."
Abby looked at the officer beside her then back to Hunter. "Skye needs to come with me."
Hunter crossed his arms. "And who are you, exactly?"
"Abby." Nat said, spelling the name with her hands for Clint's benefit. His arm around her tightened and he fished in his pockets for his hearing aids.
"Right, lovely. Hello Abby, I'm Lance Hunter. Now please tell me why the hell we should hand over our little girl to you when she clearly wants nothing less."
Nat was impressed. She had never seen Hunter like this. She'd heard from Bobbi about his fights to gain custody of his little sister, but this side of him, Natasha had never experienced. Sparked on by Hunter's confidence, Natasha took a step forward.
"You can't take her, Abby, she lives with us now."
Abby looked surprised for a second, taking longer than Nat suspected she would have liked, to recover. "Natasha? How are you?"
Nat glared at her. "Not the time, nor the place, I think."
Hunter pushed Bobbi and Skye back, keeping and hand on the distressed little girl's shoulder. "Again, who are you?"
"I'm Skye's social worker. I was Natasha's too, once upon a time." She smiled at Natasha but Clint shook his head and Abby looked back to Hunter. "Mel and Phil, you heard they were in an accident?"
"Yes." Bobbi said. "But they're okay?"
"They are." Skye spoke up. Bobbi was resting the child on her hip and rocking her gently from side to side. "I saw Mommy."
"There's going to be an investigation into the accident." Abby said.
Clint frowned. "Investigation?"
The police officer stepped forward and the family stepped back. "A criminal police investigation." He said. "And while that goes on, Skye can't be living with a suspect."
"Suspect?" Bobbi said. "What the hell is going on?"
The officer sighed. "We believe that someone was at fault for the car accident."
"Not Mommy." Skye piped up.
He ignored her. "And until we discover who was at fault, Skye is going to have to return to state care."
Nat's blood ran cold. "No. No." She lifted Skye from Bobbi's arms and the little girl held on tightly. "You can't take her. No." Natasha looked to Bobbi. "They can't."
Bobbi opened her mouth but no words were uttered. She turned to the officer and back to Nat. "I-I- don't, Skye, she should be with us. With Mom and Dad."
"That's not up to you." Abby said. "I'm so sorry guys, but I need to take her."
Hunter turned to Nat. His Adam's apple was bobbing up and down and he was frowning hard. "This isn't right."
"I agree with you." Abby said. "But while this whole thing's going on, Skye can't stay with Phil and Melinda."
He stepped up to her. "Then leave her with us. If for whatever ridiculous reason Skye can't be with Mel and Phil until all this has blown over, leave her with us. Bob and I, we can look after her." Lance looked to his wife and Bobbi began nodding quickly in agreement.
"Sir-," The officer began, only to be cut off by Abby.
"I don't even know you." She said to Hunter. "I can't leave a child with you."
Skye pressed herself even closer to Natasha and she ignored the protesting ache in her arms, tightening her grip on her baby sister.
"You know Bobbi, though." Hunter argued. "You know her enough, anyway." Bobbi stepped up beside him and he wrapped an arm around her. "You know her enough to know that she's capable of caring for a child. Come on."
Abby sighed. "I'm sorry, but-,"
"We're qualified." Bobbi said. "Both of us."
Clint arched an eyebrow at Natasha and she shrugged in response. She had no idea what Bobbi was talking about. Her guess was as good as his at this point.
"What do you mean," Abby said, "qualified?"
Bobbi glanced at Hunter. "We have license for emergency foster care in the U.K. We took care of Lance's sister a lot when we lived there, and we got them just in case taking her in when her parents couldn't look after her became a necessity. We can do this."
Natasha dared not look away from Abby's face, lest she give something away in her expression regarding her decision over Skye. The little girl in question held her cast to her chest and Natasha kissed her cheek.
"Surely that transfers over here," Hunter said, "I mean, we can look after Skye. We can. It doesn't need to be this way."
Abby sighed heavily and spared a look at Natasha and Skye. "I'm not guaranteeing anything," she said to Bobbi and Hunter, "and I need to take Skye with me tonight-,"
Hunter began to protest and Abby held up a hand. "But, if you two check out on the system, I can maybe rush some things through and we can look into Skye staying with you."
Skye lifted her head. "But I don't want to go back to the orphanage."
Abby shrugged sympathetically. "That's the most I can do." She looked at Hunter. "Get me proof that you two are capable foster parents and come find me tomorrow."
"Proof?" Bobbi questioned.
Abby nodded. "Show me you've got a house, that you're married, that you've taken care of kids before, anything that will help your cause." She shook her head. "I want the best for Skye, too."
Hunter nodded. "We'll see you tomorrow, then."
Whether it was the hope of Bobbi and Hunter's caretaking, or the shock at the situation, or even the complete exhaustion from such a long day, when Abby beckoned for Skye to go with her, the little girl kissed Natasha, hugged her tightly and wiggled until she put her down. Skye made the rounds, hugging and kissing each of the family in turn before returning to Nat.
"It's gonna be okay, right?" Skye asked.
Nat nodded. "I hope so, malyutka." She hugged Skye tightly, quickly. "Are you scared?"
Skye nodded, her lower lip quivering, threatening another onslaught of tears. Natasha understood that. She so understood that.
"Be brave." She said to Skye. "Try to be brave for me, okay?"
Skye nodded. "I'll try. I can be brave like you."
"Like me?"
"You're very brave." Skye said. "I can be like you, Tasha."
"I love you." Nat kissed her once again.
"I love you, too." Skye said, and then she was gone, being led out into the parking lot by Abby, neck craned to keep her eyes on her family until the very last second she was taken around the corner and out of their sight.
Nat leaned back into Clint. Skye was gone. She didn't know what to feel. Skye was gone and her parents were still absent. Natasha didn't feel brave.
"Now what?" She said quietly. She wasn't sure who she was asking, but it was Hunter who answered.
"Now," Hunter turned to her and Clint, "you two go and see your parents. I have a sneaking suspicion they'll let you in now." He gave the police officer, still by their side, a glance, then looked back to Nat and Clint. "Call if there's any problems, okay?"
Natasha nodded. "Okay."
"Okay." Clint agreed. "And where are you going?"
"Bob and I are off to find a way to convince the authorities that we own a house." He looked at Bobbi. "That's doable, right?"
She grimaced. "Probably not."
"That's the spirit, darlin'." He said and took off in the direction of the parking lot. "Come on, then, Bobbi. We've got shit to get done."
Bobbi quickly kissed the side of Natasha's head and squeezed her arm. "Just call me if you need anything." Bobbi smiled at Clint. "Tell Mom and Dad I love them. We're going to make this right."
"Oi, Hell beast!" Hunter called from the other end of the room, earning a few disgruntled mumbles and heated glares. He had his phone up to his ear. "Stark's coming to get us."
Bobbi gave Nat one last hug and jogged after her husband. "I hope you know what you're doing!" She called.
He laughed. "Not a bloody clue!"
Clint looked down at Natasha. "I'm glad they seem to have everything under control." He said sarcastically. "I was worried there for a second but Hunter has given me a great vote of confidence."
Tasha sighed. "I have no idea what just happened." She looked at the officer. "Do you?" The policeman shrugged and Nat took a deep breath. "Great."
…
Melinda asked to see Phil after Abby took Skye away. It was the only thought on her mind. She needed to see Phil, to see her husband. This was all wrong. She needed him to hug her, to kiss her, to tell her that is was all going to be okay, that everything was going to be fine.
They wouldn't let her see him.
Skye's doctor was gone, leaving only Doctor Banner and two police officers in the room. On a normal day, maybe Melinda would feel exposed wearing only the hospital gown in front of the strangers in the room, but today she didn't care. Nothing mattered except her baby girl. Her little girl who had been ripped from her through no fault of her own.
"Oh God." Mel sobbed, dropping her head into her hands. "It's my fault. It's my fault."
"Can't you do this later." Mel heard Doctor Banner say. "She's obviously distressed."
"The faster we get this done, the faster this all gets cleared up." One of the officers said.
Melinda lifted her head. "I need my daughter back." She said brokenly, wiping her eyes. "Please." She looked between the two officers. "Please."
"Ma'am," the male officer said, "I'm officer Joseph Morgan, this is officer Greer Grant." He motioned to the female officer in the room and Mel nodded to them both. "We need to talk to you about your car accident."
"Okay." Mel said. "Anything. I'll tell you anything you need to know as long I can get my baby back."
Officer Grant nodded. "We have officers talking to your husband as we speak. If your stories check out, you'll have your little girl back very soon."
Melinda looked to Doctor Banner, hoping for some kind of confirmation, but the man was nervously looking between the two officers, his head dipped. It almost looked as though he was hiding under his large glasses.
"How long will this take?" Mel asked. "I want to see my husband."
Officer Morgan pulled a chair from the side of the room and dragged it over to Melinda's bed. "It'll take as long as it takes. Sorry I can't be more specific."
Mel nodded.
"I know you probably want to see your other children soon, too." He said.
"Yes, yes." Melinda nodded. "Are they here? Are they okay?"
Officer Grant smiled. "I've been told that they're a very persistent bunch."
Even in the weight of the situation, Melinda couldn't help but smirk. Her children certainly were. A sudden wave of pride overcame her at the thought of her kids.
"Yes." Grant said. "They've been downstairs for hours. Asking after you and your husband practically every few minutes." She shook her head slightly. "We couldn't tell them much, and couldn't tell them anything about Skye. You understand?"
"Sure." Mel said.
"You can see them and your husband after we're done here." Officer Morgan said. "Shall we start?"
Mel nodded as Bruce Banner said, "I'll come back later. I have other patients."
The officers barely spared the doctor a look as he left, but Melinda watched as Bruce ducked out of the door as quickly as he could. The door closed and she turned back to the officers.
"Ask away."
…
Phil was getting more and more agitated. They just weren't telling him anything.
For over half an hour he'd been being assaulted with questions regarding the nature of the accident, which Phil had been trying to answer best he could, despite the fact that he couldn't actually remember all of it. Stuff was disappearing from his mind that he had been able to remember when he had first woken up. It was frustrating and scary. He could see images of the crash, but couldn't see how they had actually got there. Phil remembered being at Tony's house, but after that he could only hear Skye screaming, could see Melinda's face, but the rest was pricking at the edges of his consciousness then flitting away before he managed to grasp onto it.
A doctor, who wasn't Banner, had come in half way through and explained to the officer and Phil that he more than likely was having some trauma-induced memory loss. Apparently this was common enough to happen in the hours after an accident, and sometimes the memories would return, and sometimes they were gone forever. The doctor assured Phil he was fine, that his CT scans had all been clear, but the loss of memory was still frightening.
After the woman had left, the police officers had continued to ask their pointless questions.
They continuously asked him about Melinda's ability as a driver. They asked if they had been having a conversation in the car, if so, what was the nature of the conversation. They asked whether they had been listening to music, whether Skye was a good traveller, whether Melinda found herself being distracted easily. They asked over and over what Phil could remember last, and he continued to tell the officers that he only remembered things here and there from the journey. Nothing solid. Nothing that would incriminate anyone or prove anyone's innocence.
And Phil wasn't stupid. He knew that an interview was standard protocol for the situation, there had been a traffic accident after all, but the problem was that the police were refusing point blank to answer any of his questions. Phil had asked about his wife, Skye, his other children, but nothing. They told him nothing.
"Listen," Phil said eventually, holding up a hand, "I just want to see my family. I want to see my wife and my daughter, to prove to myself that they are actually okay. I need to see it with my own eyes."
"I understand that, Mr Coulson," The officer said, "but believe me, this is for your own benefit. We need answers to these questions."
"But I don't know them!" Phil growled in frustration. He breathed deeply. "Sorry, sorry. That was uncalled for."
"It's okay, sir. I understand."
Phil sighed. "I take it you think that the crash was someone's fault." The officers said nothing. "Why else would be asking me about my wife's ability to drive?"
The officer glanced to his colleague. "We believe that someone is at fault here." He said. "Not necessarily your wife," the policeman added quickly, "but it is important we are able to clear her name."
"Of course it's important." Phil scoffed. "I may not be able to remember much, but I know this isn't her fault. She shouldn't get the blame."
The officer nodded and stood up from his chair. "Feel better soon, Mr Coulson. And give us a call if you remember anything else." He smiled sadly at Phil. "There's a lot riding on this."
Phil frowned. "What's that supposed to mean?"
The officer just looked away. "I hope we can get this all cleared up soon, sir."
Phil watched with confusion as the officers left his hospital cubicle and pulled the curtains back around him. For officers of the law, the men had decided to be very cryptic.
He ignored the protesting of his broken ribs and reached over the bed for the buzzer attached to the wall. Phil pressed down and kept his finger on it until a nurse rushed in.
"Mr Coulson?" She looked him up and down. "Are you okay?"
He began pushing himself out of bed, gasping at the gripping pain in his torso. "I need to see my wife."
…
Natasha held Clint's hand tightly in hers as they followed the police officer down the hallways of the hospital. The man had assured them that he could take the two of them to see Nat's Mom, after another officer radioed from another part of the hospital.
"Hey," Clint said quietly and she looked up at him, "everything's gonna be fine."
He didn't sound particularly sure, but Nat appreciated the attempt at comfort anyway. She squeezed his hand and he brought hers up to kiss her knuckles.
"It's gonna be fine."
They continued to follow the officer for a few more corners before the man turned to them and spoke. "So, uh, you guys in school?" He asked.
Clint arched an eyebrow at him and Nat rolled her eyes at the man's pathetic attempt at making small talk.
"College? You guys in college? Maybe you're still in high school? I've got kids in middle school." The officer informed them.
Nat narrowed her eyes. "Stop talking. I prefer the silence." She said.
Clint smirked as the officer nodded and turned back the way he was leading them.
"I love you." Clint mumbled into her hair, pulling her close. "Have I ever told you that?"
She kissed his chin. "Might have mentioned it once or twice. Plus, you're carrying a bag with my hoodie covered in my vomit in it. That's love."
Clint kissed her temple, and when he looked up, he froze for half a second. He pulled Natasha forward, almost knocking the police officer out of the way. Nat craned her neck to see what her boyfriend had spotted, and her eyes fell upon her father.
"Daddy?" She broke away from Clint and sprinted down the hall to where her father was shuffling along with the aid of a nurse. "Dad?" Natasha said again when she reached him, looking from his stiff stance, to his hospital gown, to his I.V being pulled along by the nurse. She felt herself beginning her get upset. "Daddy?"
He reached for her. "Come here, baby."
"Watch his ribs." The nurse said.
Her dad shook his head. "I don't care about my ribs. I need a hug from my little girl."
Natasha tried to be gentle, tried not to jostle the IV and to take the nurse's warning into account, but when she fell into her father's arms after what was creeping up into being the worst day of her life (and Nat had had some bad days), she couldn't help but cling onto him like Skye had been clinging onto her not too long ago.
"Dad," She cried, "Daddy I thought- I was- Dad-," She stuttered over her words, never really expressing anything, but her father seemed to understand.
He held her tightly and stroked her hair. "I know, I know." He comforted. "I'm okay, we're okay." He kissed her hair. "I love you. Everything's alright."
She nodded against his chest, rubbing her nose on the fabric of the gown. Natasha felt Clint's arms go around her and her father, and looked up to see he had tears in his eyes.
"You okay?" Her dad asked Clint.
Clint nodded. "Yeah. M'okay."
"Good boy." Her father smiled and kissed Clint quickly on the forehead.
Clint pulled away and grimaced. "You're getting soft, Dad." He mumbled. Clint didn't often call her parents 'Mom' or 'Dad', but when it slipped out, Nat knew it made both of them happy.
Her dad smiled. "It's been a long day. I'm allowed to express my love for my children." He kissed Nat's cheek. She didn't complain.
"Dad," She looked up at him and tried to ignore the nasty bruises under his eyes and the bandage on his arm, "I want to see Mom."
"She's in here." The officer said, nodding at a door on the hall. "Let me just check to see if they're all done."
"All done what?" Nat asked her dad as the officer poked his head into the room.
Her dad wrapped an arm around her shoulders. "The officers have just been asking us a few questions about the accident."
"What happened, Dad?" Nat asked, and her father opened his mouth to answer, but the policeman returned with two other police officers before he had the chance to speak.
"You can go in." He said, and stepped aside for Nat.
Seeing her father in his injured state was bad enough. His pained posture, his black eyes, his bandaged arm, it was all a little scary. Natasha had never had to see her father that way. But somehow, it didn't even compare to the sucker punch to the gut Nat felt when she entered the hospital room and laid eyes on her mother. The sight of her usually strong and composed mother, laid in a bed, wearing a hospital gown that was slipping off of her shoulders and with an expression of utter devastation on her face, that sight, would haunt Natasha forever.
Her mother just looked broken.
"Mama?" She asked, and her mother said nothing, but held open her arms. Natasha sat gingerly on the edge of the bed, desperate not to hurt her mother or jostle any injuries she was unaware of. "Are you okay?"
Her Mom blinked, and tears streamed down her cheeks, dripping from her jaw.
"Melinda?" Her dad said, coming to stand on the other side of the bed. "Mel?"
Her mother attempted to pull Natasha into her arms but she resisted, instead shifting on the bed to wrap her Mom up in a hug, stroking her hair and kissing her cheek. Nat tried to swallow past the tears that began unwillingly when she felt her mother's body tremor with sobs.
"It's okay, Mama." Natasha told her. She closed her eyes and tried to ignore the taste of blood in her mouth from where she had been chewing at her lips, and instead pictured Bobbi. Her older sister always seemed to know what to do. "It's going to be okay."
Natasha opened her eyes and looked Clint's way. He was standing in the corner of the room nibbling on his thumbnail and frowning at Melinda, worriedly.
"Mel?" Her dad reached out to wipe the tears form her mother's cheeks. "Hey, it's okay. I'm fine, I promise." He kissed her face. "Where's Skye?"
Natasha gaped at her father as her mother's sobs became more insistent. He looked to Clint and then Nat, complete confusion written all over his face. Oh God, Nat thought, he didn't know.
Clint remained in the corner but moved his hand back by his side. "You don't know?"
Her dad frowned. "What? Know what?"
Neither of them dared to answer.
"Melinda?" He caught her mother's chin gently in his hand and turned her face to his. "What's going on?"
Natasha held her mom even tighter.
"They took her, Phil." Her mom gasped. "Skye, they took her away from us."
For all that Natasha had heard the expression 'their face drained of colour', she could not say that she had ever observed the phenomenon in practice, until that very moment when her father's face turned grey, and his expression went slack.
"What?" The words from his mouth were barely audible, but to Nat, the broken tone of his voice was like nails on a chalkboard.
Her mother reached up and gripped his hand. "Abby came. She took our baby from us."
He shook his head. "No. Why? No." Nat watched, as fifty different emotions seemed to flit over her father's face before landing on sheer fury. "No." He smacked his hand on the metal railing on the bed, making Nat and her mom jump. "They can't take Skye from us. They just can't."
"I tried, Phil. I tried so hard to keep her with me."
"I know." He said. "I believe you, Mel, I do." He shook his head. "We promised her she'd never have to leave." Her father's voice caught and he looked away.
Clint stepped forward, standing by the end of the bed. "We saw her." He said. "Skye."
"You did?" Her mom sat up straight in Nat's arms. "Where? When?"
"Just before." Nat said. "We were waiting in the reception for some news and then we saw Abby with Skye."
Clint nodded. "She was crying, and she came over to us." He looked down. "She didn't want to be taken away, but there was nothing we could do. She took Skye anyway."
Natasha turned to her mom and dad. "Bobbi and Hunter were with us." She said. "Hunter's going to get Skye back. He's got a plan."
Her mom blinked at her. "What plan?"
Nat glanced at Clint and he shrugged. She looked back to her parents. "I'm not sure. But he thinks he and Bobbi can take care of her until you guys can get her back."
"If it helps," Clint said, "he seemed pretty confident about it."
Nat was about to remind Clint that Hunter was constantly confident about his plans, which constantly failed, and that he was not helping by commenting on how self-assured Hunter was, but then her mom was nodding and wiping her eyes.
"Actually, Clint," she said, "that does help a little."
"We'll get her back." Clint said. "We will."
"She belongs with you and Dad." Natasha said. She kissed her mother's cheek and brushed her fingers through her hair. "She has to come back."
…
Bobbi sat in the back of Tony Stark's car, leaning as far forward as the restriction of the seatbelt would allow, to look between her husband and the man himself in the front. Hunter reached a hand back between the two front seats and grasped hers as he explained the situation to Tony.
"That's bullshit." Tony seethed, taking a tight corner and shaking Bobbi from side to side. "How dare they take a little girl away from her parents? It's bullshit."
"I know." Hunter said. "That's why we need for them to agree to let Bob and I take Skye until Phil and Mel can have her back." He gripped Bobbi's hand and turned to look out of the window. "You should have seen her, Tony." He said quietly. "She was begging to stay with her mum and dad. They can't just treat kids like property."
"It's not fair." Bobbi said.
She knew all too well just how it felt to be passed around like property. To be handed off to the people the state felt was the best place. She had been so young when the child protective services had taken her and her brother away from her biological parents. They had split them up, shipped them off to their 'next of kin', relatives neither of them even knew existed, and decided that that was 'best'. Bobbi wasn't sure about her brother, Ben, but for little Barbara Morse, being dumped on the doorstep of a distant aunt and her drunken husband had been the worst thing to ever happen to her.
She thought about Skye, being driven back to that awful orphanage, a place Nat had barely even spent time in but had hated with every ounce of her being. Her sister, her baby sister, Skye didn't deserve to have the government decide what was best for her. No. It wasn't fair, Bobbi thought, and she sure as hell wasn't going to let any big man in a suit take Skye away from her family.
"Tony," Bobbi said, "you have to help us. We need her back with her family."
He nodded, his jaw set. "If someone dared even try to take my boy away from me, I'd pull the whole world apart just to get him back." Tony looked at Bobbi. "You better bet your ass I'd do the same for your baby sister."
The billionaire grinned and stepped on the gas. "Now let's get you a house."
…
Skye had been in a car accident today. She had been hurt. Abby's car hadn't even had a booster seat, so Skye had to sit low in the back, in the hospital's pyjamas, and stare into the black sky instead of at the passing buildings.
Abby tried to talk to her. Skye blocked it out.
They arrived back at St Agnes' and Skye climbed up the front steps in her hospital socks, and she ignored everyone she saw, and followed Abby to a room, and sat down on the bed, and Skye didn't speak as the door closed and lights were turned off and room was bathed in a darkness that should have been scary.
Maybe she should have felt frightened of the car ride. She had just been in an accident.
Maybe she should have felt angered by sister Margaret's sarcastic welcome 'home'. This would never be Skye's home.
Maybe she should have felt upset about having nothing of her own with her. Her backpack and her clothes and her toys and her trinkets were all at home.
But Skye was beyond all that. Skye felt nothing like that.
The little girl lay her head down on a pillow that wasn't hers, in the bed that she didn't belong in, in a room that had peeling paint and a funny smell, without the people she loved, the people who loved her, and all Skye felt was empty.
A/N: Sooooooooooo, what did you think?