Hey all! I just had my first day of college (university) classes and I wanted to get this out to you guys before the homework starts piling up. Special thank you to shikasgirl10 for your idea on one thing to include in this story, which I'm really excited about. Onward!
Death Throes
"Bob, I'm serious," Hunter said, digging through the drawers to the small dresser again. "She doesn't own any black clothes besides pants! Everything else is bright-colored, pink and turquoise and green…"
"We could go to the store…" Bobbi checked her watch. "It starts in half an hour."
Hunter nodded. "If I take the car now…"
May appeared in the doorway. "No one is taking a car."
"But—" Hunter began.
"Funeral begins in twenty-seven minutes. Choose another color." May turned away, walking down the hallway as if she'd never stopped. "I'm wearing white."
Bobbi and Hunter stared after her. "What was that about?" Hunter murmured. "Wasn't like I was suggesting I'd ditch, or anything."
Her mouth twitched. "Well, last time you made a quick trip to the store, it took six hours…"
"Not my fault they had samples!" She rolled her eyes at him and he huffed. "You know, Trip would have understood; he knew the value of free food...or any food at all…" His voice trailed away into silence.
Isabelle tugged on her shirt, saying softly as if afraid to break the sudden quiet, "Mommy, I'm okay with white."
Bobbi snapped back to business, smoothing down the front of her dress shirt. "Hunter, does she have any shirts in white?"
"Yes," he gave her a weak smile, pulling the article of clothing in question from the drawer. She took it from him and smoothed it out on the bed. "And hey, what about that white-and-pink skirt you got her when we were shopping for more clothes to show off our parenting prowess to the social worker?"
Bobbi nodded approvingly as he held it up. "Good one." The skirt was mostly white with a light pink flower design flowing across its silly length. She looked down at Isabelle. "How's that?"
"Perfect," the girl smiled, but it faded quickly. She stared nervously at Bobbi, playing with the hem of her current shirt. "Can you tell me again what's gonna happen?"
Hunter went to close the door to give them some privacy for Isabelle to change in while Bobbi nodded. "We're going to say goodbye to Trip for the last time, and honor his memory by recognizing everything that made him so special."
"But what if I don't want to say goodbye," Isabelle said in a small voice. "Ever."
Bobbi and Hunter exchanged glances over her head. "Well, love, it's just something we do after people pass away."
"What does 'pass away' mean?"
"Die," Bobbi told her gently.
Hunter acknowledged her help and then continued. "It's a sign that we loved them very much. You loved Trip, didn't you?"
Their daughter nodded.
"Then now is your chance to tell him." Hunter gave her a reassuring smile. "It'll be okay. We'll be right next to you the entire time, and you don't have to do anything you're not comfortable with."
"Okay," Isabelle murmured. Bobbi couldn't tell if she was convinced or not, but she took the opportunity anyway to begin dressing her. When they were finally all ready—Bobbi in a dark red top and black pants and Hunter looking smart in a suit she hadn't even known he owned; it was so un-Hunter-like—they headed down to the lounge a few minutes early.
The lounge appeared to have been completely renovated for the event. Where Trip's coffin previously would barely have fit amongst the squashy armchairs and sofa that usually sat there, all those pieces of furniture had been removed to give the coffin plenty of room around it. It was situated around waist-height on a lacquered wooden table that matched the few slivers of wood they could see beneath the enormous United States flag draped over it. The lights had also been rigged to make the room fairly dim, although the coffin itself was well-lit—probably the work of Fitz or even May, who knew her way around the base and its capabilities perhaps even better than the engineer did. As they came around to the front of the coffin, they could see the message inscribed into the dark wood making up its smallest side, closest to to where Trip's stone feet would be, if Simmons had managed to locate them among the rubble. Bobbi hadn't seen the point in asking.
Agent Antoine Triplett
Remembered for his unwavering selflessness, humor, and heart
Rest in peace.
Bobbi swallowed and felt Hunter give a small shudder of emotion beside her. His hand was gripped tightly in her left, while her right gently pulled Isabelle closer to hug her into her side. Feeling another presence in the room, Bobbi looked up suddenly and was startled to see May, Coulson, and Simmons already standing like statues in the shadows, May silent and still with her head bowed, Coulson staring intently at the coffin with an anguished expression on his face, and Simmons completely motionless except for the glistening tears sliding slowly but steadily down her face.
Mack came in next just as Bobbi, Isabelle, and Hunter took their places next to May. He was also in a suit and tie and somehow looked even odder to Bobbi than Hunter, familiar as she was with Mack's wardrobe of ratty, perpetually grease-stained T-shirts and steel-toed work boots. He greeted Bobbi and Hunter with silent hugs, which neither he nor Hunter protested for once, and gave two soft strokes down Isabelle's hair, cradling the back of her head for a few moments before letting her go.
Fitz and Skye were the last to arrive though still a half minute early. He entered first in a dark suit with her following in a black dress that accentuated the sudden slimness of her figure—not in the healthy weight-loss-through-exercise sort of way, but the stress- or sickness- kind. Bobbi swallowed again as she saw Skye's shaking hand be enveloped in Fitz's for a quick squeeze before he moved away from her to stand by Jemma, who laid her head on his shoulder. Skye's eyes, like the young biochemist's, were already filled to the brim with tears.
"Thank you all for coming," Coulson said in a low voice. As one, they all shuffled closer to the coffin in their circle around it, bringing them into the light. May was indeed wearing white. "I know it's been a busy time…" He glanced at Skye. "...for some of us, an especially trying time, but today to honor the life of our fellow S.H.I.E.L.D. Agent Antoine Triplett. He was a good man, a good agent, and above all, a true friend to everyone who had the fortune to meet him."
They all nodded, and next to her Hunter breathed, "Hear, hear."
If Coulson heard him or not was impossible to tell, but Bobbi imagined he wouldn't care if he did. Even if Coulson was directing it, the funeral was for the benefit of all of them. For closure. "I know not all of us are from the same faith. Not all of us have faith." Mack's hand slipped into his pocket, and Bobbi knew he was reaching for the steel crucifix he always kept there. "But Trip was raised a Christian, and as far as I know, he died one as well. He died with the hope of a better place, of peace, rest, and fulfillment...a place of people being reunited in love." Coulson paused. "Right now, faced with the impossible task of saying goodbye to him forever, I sincerely hope he was right."
"I know we're all feeling loss, grief, pain—" His eyes strayed to Skye again. "—and perhaps even a little guilt. Every one of us here has had our life touched or even saved by Trip. He was one of those few special people who leave a lasting mark
wherever they go. I can say with all certainty that the world is a better place because Antoine Triplett walked on it."
Coulson looked around at them all, meeting each of their eyes—even Isabelle's. "I think, as S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, it's all too easy to try to push this to the back of our minds, to compartmentalize, to force ourselves on with our lives because our job was Trip's job too, and we think it's what he'd want. But I think he'd also want us to recognize our emotions and share them with each other, not build up walls in our minds and between each other. Trip wasn't about building walls—just bridges. It's important for us to acknowledge and accept that something fundamental has changed within our lives, and our team." Coulson bowed his head, and slowly, everyone else's did the same. Isabelle's hand clutched hers. "Farewell, Agent Triplett. It won't be the same without you." Even softer, "Thank you for your sacrifice."
Raising her head, May motioned silently for them all to move away from the coffin, leaving just Coulson standing there with his head down. After a few moments, he moved to the base of it where Bobbi, Hunter, and Isabelle had previously been standing and traced the words inscribed into the wood with his finger. His lips moved but whatever he said, Bobbi couldn't make it out in the dim lighting, even though the room was quiet. He patted the American flag on top, smoothing out the tiniest of wrinkles in the thick cloth.
Then the director stepped away, joining them. May approached next, standing in front of it and bowing her head so that her dark hair fell in waves obscuring her face. She stood there like that for so long, rigid, that Bobbi couldn't help but wonder if she was crying.
When May came back, though, her eyes were clear. Fitz went next, and returned with eyes that were red-rimmed and sad. Simmons followed after him, dissolving into tears before she'd even reached the coffin. She barely mumbled out a few words before stumbling back to Fitz, resting her head against his chest as they wrapped their arms around each other. Isabelle buried her face in Bobbi's thigh, and she lifted up the little girl to settle her on her hip, feeling her tears begin to soak into her shoulder. Mack simply bowed his head silently with both palms flat against the flag before returning to his place. If Bobbi wasn't mistaken, he'd traced the sign of the cross on the wood with his thumb before walking away.
With another squeeze Hunter let go of her hand to step forward. He rested his palm on the blank wood underneath the flag and above the inscription. "Bye, mate," she heard him say.
His fingers lightly touched hers as they switched places—a sign of support, of encouragement. Her daughter's weight was heavy on her left side as she brought her forward before leaning down so Isabelle could run her hand along the wood's glossy surface. "Don't know what to say," she said, muffled into Bobbi's ear.
"Just tell him how much you loved him, bear," she whispered back, pressing a kiss to her daughter's temple. "And say goodbye."
Bobbi watched the pulse of her daughter's jugular as she gulped and twisted in her arms to face the coffin, little fingers just barely brushing the red stripe of the flag. "I love you, Trip," the girl said as clearly as she could muster. "A lot." She wriggled to be set down and Bobbi did so. Isabelle wrapped her arms around the base of the coffin, hugging it tightly. "Bye-bye."
Placing a hand gently on her back, Bobbi steered her back towards Hunter, leaving her alone staring at the stars and the stripes. Bye, Trip, she thought silently. Thank you for being so good to my daughter.
She stepped away from the coffin and back to the group. Hunter had Isabelle in his arms now, her head buried in his chest. It was just Skye left now to pay her respects before the funeral was over, but the hacker hadn't moved. Taking one look at the anguished expression on her face as she stared hopelessly at the coffin as tears spilled from her eyes, Bobbi honestly wasn't sure she'd be able to. Fitz seemed to notice as well—he'd seemed to have one eye constantly on Skye ever since she was released from quarantine—and he let go of Simmons long enough to place a hand on her shoulder and give her a small nod. Skye didn't even bother to wipe her eyes as she stepped past Bobbi though they were so filled with liquid she didn't know how the young agent could see. Somehow Skye managed to make it to the edge of the coffin and there she stopped, frozen.
Bobbi looked away, feeling self-conscious for watching this private moment, though she'd watched all the others. She stroked Isabelle's hair as Hunter cradled her against his chest, waiting for it to be over so they could all go back to their regularly scheduled programming that wasn't so filled with death and sadness.
And she instantly felt guilty for thinking that. Trip deserved to be honored. It was just...she just didn't want to see the ones she loved unhappy any longer.
The ground trembled beneath her feet.
"I DID THIS!" Skye's sudden shriek made them all jump, even May, although her decidedly less than the rest of them. "IT'S MY FAULT." Bobbi had never heard Skye's voice so shrill before, unearthly, almost inhuman in its utter distress. The ground shook unmistakably this time, the complex shuddering and groaning around them. Bobbi pushed Hunter towards the floor, crouching down and ready to shield Isabelle with her body, although from what she didn't know. The ceiling? "Trip, I'm so sorry. I did this. It's my fault. It's my fault," Skye sobbed from behind them. Bobbi's head twisted to look.
"I'm doing this," Skye whispered. A giant crack was heard overhead, and a fissure appeared, running fast along the ceiling in five different directions. Centered around Trip's coffin. Centered around Skye.
"You're doing this?" Coulson sounded shocked, his voice filled with disbelief that quickly turned to despair. Fitz nodded, and all of a sudden Bobbi realized the reason for all of his recent behavior. He knew.
"Skye, you have to stop." May stepped towards her.
"I can't," the hacker choked out. "I can't, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry. It's all my fault." Her palms were upturned now and she was staring at them, teardrops falling thick and fast and splashing them with water.
"No, Isabelle!" Bobbi shouted, but it was too late. The girl had somehow wiggled out of Hunter and Bobbi's embrace and was now running full-tilt towards Skye. She wrapped her arms around the agent's thigh.
With one frightened look down at the little girl clutching her leg, Skye pushed her off and ran out of the room. Isabelle landed hard on her bottom, bony elbows the only thing that kept her head from smacking against the carpet. Bobbi and Hunter rushed towards at the same time as May and Fitz rushed after Skye, Coulson in hot pursuit. Simmons just stood there in shock. "But the lab results…" Bobbi heard her say.
"Isabelle, are you all right?" she demanded as soon as she reached her, landing hard on her knees as they literally buckled beneath her in her hurry to get to her daughter.
Hunter fell to his knees with a little more grace. "Love, please talk to us—are you hurt?"
"I'm okay, Mommy, Daddy," Isabelle said, struggling up toward them from lying on her back. Not one to take the word of a child, Bobbi and Hunter quickly checked her over. Her elbows and tailbone would probably be a little bruised tomorrow, but Isabelle was right, she would be fine.
"She good?" Mack asked in his deep voice, jerking Bobbi from her complete mother-mode.
"Yeah, she's fine," she said weakly.
Mack nodded. "Then I'll go help find Skye. And get some ICERs on the way."
Bobbi swallowed but felt no inclination to argue. Skye had just pushed her four-year-old daughter to the ground. And the floor was still shaking. "Find her," she said.
"And you really aren't worried about Skye?" Bobbi asked, tucking the covers more tightly around Isabelle. Hell, she was worried about Skye. Though it had taken the team less than fifteen minutes to catch her, it had taken a round of the ICER's new dendrotoxin to make the shaking stop. Now she was in the vibranium-walled cell on the Bus with a two-man, three-hour rotation on her until she woke up. Bobbi was on at 1:00 AM; Hunter at 4:00.
"Nope," Isabelle shook her head.
"Even though she knocked you down?" Hunter asked.
The girl shook her head, looking surprisingly happy for all the events of the day. "Nope. She's just like Elsa. Elsa hurt Anna by accident too, 'cept Skye didn't put ice in my heart 'cause that's not her power."
"Ah," Hunter said, looking thoroughly off-put. "Frozen. Right."
"Skye just has to learn to control her power," Isabelle said confidently.
"All the same, be careful around her, okay?" Bobbi asked. "I don't want you getting hurt...while Skye deals with this. Even by accident."
"Okay, Mommy," Isabelle nodded.
"What about Trip's funeral?" Hunter asked. "How're you feeling about that, love?"
She looked down, the small smile falling off her face. "'M okay."
"Do you have any more questions?" Bobbi pressed gently. "Or want to talk about anything?"
"What does 'reunited' mean?" Isabelle asked.
"It means to meet again, or be brought together again," she replied after a moment. "Why?"
"Phil said it during the funeral," Isabelle said. She looked up at them suddenly. "Does that mean he's not gone forever?"
Bobbi and Hunter looked at each other. She wasn't one for the afterlife or the omnipotent divine—she'd seen too many bad things happen to good people in the course of her work for that. But maybe a different way of explaining it…
"You remember The Lion King, right?" Bobbi asked.
"Yeah."
"Well, remember how the monkey told Simba that Mufasa lived on in him?"
"Rafiki," Isabelle corrected. "He was a baboon."
"Yes," she nodded with a slight smile. "And whenever you think about him, or remember him, or miss him, he'll live on in you."
Isabelle's eyes grew large. "Really?"
Bobbi patted the bedcovers. "Really."
"Then I'll remember him a lot," Isabelle promised. "Every day."
"He would like that," Bobbi smiled, beginning to stroke her hair back. Her daughter's breathing had leveled out, become deeper. "And remember he died a hero, okay?"
"But heroes get to live happily ever after," Isabelle said, confused.
"Not all stories end like that," Bobbi told her regretfully.
"But he stayed the dragon, right, Mommy?"
"He slayed a big arse dragon," Hunter promised.
Isabelle blinked sleepily. "What's 'arse'?"
"That's an explanation for another time," Bobbi said quickly, shooting a glance at Hunter. "Time to sleep now, 'kay?"
"'Kay," Isabelle mumbled. "Love you, Mommy. Love you, Daddy."
"We love you too, Isabelle," Bobbi murmured as Hunter pressed a kiss to her forehead.
Reviews give me the warm fuzzies, which I'm finding myself in need of now that I'm trying to navigate the unknown waters of college. And yes, I know Rafiki is technically a mandrill not a baboon but I figured Isabelle wouldn't know a word like that, so baboon it is. And Trip deserved a proper funeral, don't you think?