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Chapter Text

Bobbi knew it was going to be a bad day when she was called to the office during sixth period and came face-to-face with Mr. Gonzales. The graying, grizzled old man had been her caseworker when she had first gone into the foster care system when she was eleven, and his return into her life could only mean one thing.

“Foster care again, huh?” she asked, trying to smile and instead finding the words sticking unpleasantly in her throat.

“I’m afraid so, Barbara.” He offered a tight smile in response to hers. His moustache did a good job of hiding that Gonzales never smiled with his teeth, and if it hadn’t been for the crinkles at the corners of his eyes Bobbi might not have realized he was trying to smile at all.

She took a deep breath and let it out slowly, trying to center herself and calm her racing thoughts. Even if she had kind of been expecting this, it wasn’t any easier. “Do I need to get my stuff?”

“You can go back to class. I just wanted to make sure you didn’t try to go home on the bus.”

“Right.” There were only twenty minutes until the final bell so Bobbi wasn’t sure why they had called her to the office just to send her back – maybe in case she had a meltdown about going back into the system? It wasn’t like this was her first rodeo, but she was sure Gonzales had a protocol to follow.

Bobbi went back to class, but naturally the instructions her teacher was giving about their derivatives worksheet went in one ear and out the other; calculus wasn’t important when her life was about to be upended. Again. She hadn’t thought to ask Gonzales if she would have an opportunity to go back to her nana’s house and pick up the things she had there, but she was guessing the answer was no. Bobbi’s lips thinned into a line and she almost snapped the graphite tip of her pencil pressing too hard on the page.

The derivative of x² is 2x. It’s okay that I’m going into foster care again. The derivative of x³ + 6x is 3x² + 6. It’s not okay I’m going into foster care again.

When the bell rang Bobbi trudged to the front office to meet Mr. Gonzales again. He signed her out with the receptionist and led her to his car, an old Buick that was parked in the back of the parking lot next to the cars of the juniors who drove to school. Bobbi did one sweep of the parking lot to see if she could catch sight of Hunter, but quickly remembered he was staying after school for track practice. Great.

Bobbi kept her backpack on her lap as Gonzales peeled out of the parking lot, going heavy on the accelerator so he could beat the buses out of the school. He took the exit onto the highway, and Bobbi bit her lip as the trees rushed by in the steady pace of pre-rush hour traffic. They spent at least twenty minutes in uncomfortable silence on the highway before Gonzales found the exit he was looking for, and Bobbi valiantly ignored her worries about what school she would be going to. They hadn’t crossed county lines, but they were way outside her school’s district and she doubted the first thing her new foster parents wanted to do at seven in the morning was drive thirty minutes to take her to school.

She tried to hide her shock when Gonzales turned into a neighborhood with the biggest houses Bobbi had ever seen. It didn’t have a gate but it looked like the community that should have – perfectly manicured green lawns, literal white picket fences, houses in various shades of brick and grey. The place he eventually stopped at was medium-sized for the neighborhood, but still twice as large as any house Bobbi had lived in. She resisted the urge to ask Mr. Gonzales if he was sure he’d gotten the right place, instead following him up the walk to the navy-blue front door.

He didn’t even have time to knock before the door swung open. Bobbi shifted her weight back onto her heels and hunched her shoulders, hoping it would hide how much taller she was than the woman she presumed was her new foster mother. The man standing beside her – probably her husband and Bobbi’s new foster father – was still at least an inch shorter than Bobbi, probably more. Great.

“Hi,” the man greeted, giving Gonzales a nod. “You must be Barbara.”

“Bobbi,” she corrected without thinking. “Um. Sorry. I mean, I prefer Bobbi. If that’s alright.” God, this was the part of having new foster parents she hated – the trying to figure out whether they were normal humans or complete jerks.

“Of course it’s alright,” the woman said. “Why don’t you two come in? Shoes off at the door, please.”

Bobbi toed her battered sneakers off her feet, placing them next to a pair of Converses she guessed didn’t belong to either of her foster parents, which meant there were other kids in the house. Bobbi peered around when they walked towards the kitchen, but couldn’t spot any signs of other kids being home. Maybe middle schoolers? There was a dog bowl in the corner by the kitchen table, so maybe the kid was out with the dog?

“I’m Melinda, and this is my husband, Phil,” the woman said as she situated herself at the kitchen table. “Mr. Gonzales told us you weren’t really expecting to go into foster care today, is that right?”

“Um.” Bobbi looked at her case worker, then at Melinda. “Not really.” Liar. She hadn’t been expecting it, exactly, but it also hadn’t come out of left field as much as Mr. Gonzales had probably led Phil and Melinda to believe.

“Well, we hope you’ll be able to make yourself at home here. Phil, why don’t you show Bobbi to her room?” she said before Bobbi could sit down.

Bobbi had to give Melinda points for subtlety – most foster parents didn’t care about talking about her in front of her face, but it seemed like Melinda actually did want her to be comfortable.

“There are three other kids in the house,” Phil explained when he led Bobbi up the stairs, “but Daisy’s bedroom is in the basement, so you’ll only be sharing a bathroom with Fitz and Kora.”

“Okay.” Bobbi didn’t know how else to respond. At least that was one mystery solved – there were other kids in the house. Daisy and Kora sounded like girls’ names, but she wasn’t sure about the last one, Fitz. It seemed like more of a nickname than anything, and it could fit someone of any gender.

“This room’s yours.” Phil opened the door to the bedroom directly at the top of the stairs, and Bobbi followed him into it. It was small, but in a cozy way instead of a claustrophobic way. The bed was pushed into one corner by the room’s single window, covered in a gray comforter. The whole room was monochromatic, actually – perfectly designed to be able to suit any person’s tastes. Even the desk in the corner was painted white instead of left to be natural wood.

“Thanks.” Bobbi set her backpack down beside the desk, not wanting to put the grimy thing on the comforter and accidentally stain it.

“I’ll show you the bathroom,” Phil said when he seemed satisfied Bobbi was done looking at her new room. She followed him to the next door over, and tried to hide the shock on her face when she saw how big the bathroom was. Sure, the whole house was bigger than she was really comfortable with (except for maybe her room, which was a relief) but there was a jacuzzi in the bathroom – and this wasn’t even the master bathroom! The shower also looked impressive, but Bobbi’s eyes kept skipping back to the jacuzzi in the corner.

“Like I said, you’ll be sharing with Fitz and Kora.” Phil’s assertion was corroborated by the two toothbrushes in a cup on the pristine counters. “You’ll meet them when they come home from school. I expect Daisy will be downstairs when we go back down.” Phil turned around, and Bobbi immediately looked away when he tried to catch her eye. He seemed nice enough, but Bobbi didn’t want him to be able to scrutinize her and deem her unworthy or ungrateful. Without her backpack to hold and in just her socked feet she felt more vulnerable than she had in a long time, and she didn’t like it.

“How old are they?” Bobbi asked as a diversion.

“Fitz and Daisy are both fifteen. Fitz goes to a magnet school, which is why he’s not home yet. Kora’s twelve. The middle school lets out at three-thirty,” he added helpfully when he saw Bobbi mentally trying to calculate what grade Kora would be in.

“Cool,” Bobbi said. She was sure things would get less awkward when she felt like she actually knew Phil instead of being a stranger intruding on his house, but for now Bobbi just felt like she was taking up space.

“Do you guys have a dog?” she asked as they exited the bathroom.

“We do!” Phil’s face lit up. “Daisy asked for a dog for years before we got Melinda to agree to it, but he was Daisy’s Christmas gift last year and now Mel loves him more than she loves me. He’s a rescue, we think he’s a pitt bull-Dalmatian mix but we’re thinking about getting him one of those DNA tests to be sure. We know they’re dumb, but curiosity, you know?”

Bobbi just nodded along as Phil continued to rhapsodize about the dog – whose name was Cap, Bobbi learned about halfway through his spiel – all the way down the stairs.

“… You’re not allergic, are you? Your file didn’t mention anything, but –”

“No,” Bobbi assured him. “I’m only allergic to amoxycillin.” She doubted they’d let her stay with this family; between a foster child and a dog, most people would pick the dog.

“That doesn’t sound like a fun story,” Phil said with a sympathetic wince.

Bobbi shrugged. “I was three. I think it freaked my parents out more than me.”

Phil nodded thoughtfully, then poked his head into the kitchen. “You two ready for us?”

He must’ve received an answer to the affirmative because he entered and beckoned Bobbi to follow him. Melinda looked somber, and Bobbi suppressed a sigh. The thing she hated most about foster care was when her foster family pitied her, and it looked like Melinda was headed down that road.

“We’re excited to have you with us for the next few months, Bobbi,” Melinda said, gesturing for her to sit down at the table.

“Few months?” Bobbi looked to Mr. Gonzales. “They don’t know it’s going to be that long, do they?” CPS cases didn’t have a set timeline for when they’d resolve. If her nana did everything the judge asked of her, then –

“Bobbi,” Gonzales said, voice shockingly gentle. “Your grandmother has petitioned to give up her parental rights.”

The air whizzed out of Bobbi like air out of a balloon. “Oh.”

“I’ll let you know if anything changes, but…”

“It’s fine,” Bobbi interrupted. She didn’t need Gonzales to spell out the rest of her future for her – if her nana’s parental rights were terminated permanently, she would become a ward of the state, which meant foster care until she reached age of majority or someone adopted her. Since she only had eight and a half more months until she turned eighteen, it didn’t take a genius to figure out which would happen first.

“I’ll be visiting her house this weekend to collect your things. I should be able to drop them off before Monday,” Mr. Gonzales said.

“Thank you.” Bobbi stared at the wood table, tracing her thumbnail along the whorls of the grain. Her nana wasn’t always the best guardian, since she forgot things more often than she remembered them (including feeding Bobbi, which wasn’t always the greatest), but she had been the one to take care of Bobbi the longest since her actual parents. She had thought it was going to work – if not forever, then at least until Bobbi turned eighteen and could figure her own life out. At least the end result was the same, Bobbi supposed; she’d strike out on her own on her eighteenth birthday. Well, mostly on her own. Hunter would be there, and his moms.

Bobbi forced herself to take a deep breath, fighting against a hot rush of tears.

“I’m sorry, Bobbi.” Mr. Gonzales put a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Like I said, I’ll keep you in the loop.”

She just nodded, not trusting her voice. Phil led Mr. Gonzales out of the room and presumably to the door, but Melinda didn’t try to talk even when it was just the two of them in the kitchen.

When Phil came back, alone, he slid into the chair next to Bobbi’s. “I’m sorry that you had to find out that way, kiddo. Mel wouldn’t have said anything if she didn’t think you already knew.”

“It’s fine,” Bobbi choked out. “What did you need me for?”

“Just a few house rules,” Melinda said. “Those can wait, though, if you’re not up to it.”

“No, I’m fine.” Bobbi sniffed once then lifted her head, looking just past Melinda to the sky-blue walls of the kitchen so she wouldn’t see the damn pity in her eyes.

“Your curfew will be ten p.m. on week nights, midnight on weekends. You’re allowed to stay up as late as you’d like but after curfew please keep noise to a minimum. If we notice you’re not getting enough sleep we may consider the bedtime rule.” Bobbi nodded after each rule Melinda stated. None of them were unnecessarily draconian, which was better than some of her other foster homes.

“Please let us know if you’re going to have any guests over – the day before for daytime visits, at least three days ahead on overnight visits. Bedroom doors are to remain open no matter the gender of the person visiting with you. We’re not going to assume your sexuality, nor do we want you to feel pressured to disclose it.” Bobbi nodded again, fighting down the flush on her cheeks. No one had bothered to ask her what her sexual preferences were since she’d started dating a boy at fifteen, and she’d mostly liked it that way, but it felt weird to have it acknowledged so openly she might be anything other than heterosexual.

“We’ll talk to you about chores when you’ve been with us a little longer, but –”

“Can I take care of the dog?” Bobbi interrupted. “Sorry.” She said immediately when Melinda’s mouth tightened.

“It’s alright,” Melinda said after a moment. “Yes, we consider making the dog your responsibility, if that’s what you’re requesting, but please don’t cut me or anyone else off when we’re speaking.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Bobbi whispered, dropping her head back down and fidgeting with her fingers.

Melinda paused for a long moment and Bobbi waited for the inevitable maybe this isn’t going to work, but after that tense second, she continued on with the house rules. “Do you have a phone?”

Bobbi nodded. “My nana pays for it, though.”

“We’ll see about getting you switched to our plan, then. Phones can be used only after homework has been completed, and never at the dinner table. Other technology has the same restrictions, unless you need it to complete your homework.”

“Am I transferring schools?” Bobbi asked when she was sure Melinda was done speaking.

“You are. Phil’s going to go to the high school tomorrow and get you enrolled there.”

Bobbi nodded, and waited for further instruction, but none came.

“May I be excused?” she asked after a minute had passed.

“If you’d like to meet Daisy, we can invite her up. Otherwise you’ll be meeting her, Fitz, and Kora at dinner.”

“Mel,” Phil said quietly. “I think maybe it’s better if we let Bobbi go for now. It’s been a hard day.”

It was really only the last hour and a half that had been hard, but Bobbi didn’t argue. She just wanted to get back to her room and collect herself. Maybe cry. (Definitely cry, but she wasn’t going to admit that.)

“Do you want to take Cap with you?” Phil suggested. “He’s very helpful with unpacking.”

Bobbi hesitated. Phil obviously knew Cap wouldn’t be helping with unpacking of any sort – all she had in her backpack was school stuff, and none of that would be useful anymore since she was transferring. That meant Phil knew she was going to be sitting in her room crying, and wanted the dog to go with her… to comfort her? That seemed the likeliest explanation.

“I guess,” she said with a one-shouldered shrug.

Phil whistled, and a moment later the click-clack of dog nails on hardwood floor echoed through the space.

Bobbi’s heart melted when the dog poked his head through the doorway of the kitchen. Cap was one of those dogs who always looked like they were smiling, and Bobbi couldn’t help but feel a little less sorry for herself when he was staring up at her with the puppy grin on his face.

“Thanks, Phil,” Bobbi murmured under her breath before standing up from the table and heading to her room, Cap hot on her heels.

Chapter Text

“Dinner!”

Bobbi lifted her head from the pillow and let out a resounding sigh. She knew that she was going to have to leave her room eventually, but she wasn’t looking forward to it. She’d spent the first twenty minutes alone crying on the floor with Cap valiantly attempting to comfort her, and the five after drafting a text message to Hunter that accurately portrayed how she was feeling without sending him into a worrying fit. He was still at track practice still so he hadn’t responded, leaving the next few hours for Bobbi to alternate between playing pointless games on her phone and staring at the white walls of her bedroom.

She detoured to the bathroom to splash cold water on her face, and Bobbi winced when she saw her reflection in the mirror. Her hair was matted down to her head and her eyes were much, much puffier than she had hoped. The redness had faded well enough, but there was still no question that she had been crying. Bobbi sighed and combed her fingers through her hair so she at least looked somewhat presentable before heading down the stairs. Cap followed her eagerly, probably looking forward to dinner scraps. At least one of them was going to have a good time.

The kitchen felt much smaller when the table was full, and the conversation the family had been having immediately stopped when Bobbi entered the room.

“Empty place setting is for you, Bobbi!” Phil announced cheerily, breaking the silence. The empty seat in question was at the foot of the table, and Bobbi slid into place wordlessly.

“Mr. Gonzales said spaghetti’s your favorite?” Melinda prompted, handing a pot of pasta down the table to Bobbi.

Yeah, when I was eleven, Bobbi wanted to say. Instead she accepted the proffered pot and dolloped some onto her plate, followed by the sauce from a separate pan and the meatballs from a third. She didn’t hate spaghetti, but her favorite food now was the French onion soup from the pub down the street from Hunter’s place. She wasn’t going to be ungrateful, Bobbi told herself – she’d just correct Melinda at some later point so she didn’t keep making spaghetti on Bobbi’s account.

She passed the dishes to her right when she was done with them. Bobbi assumed the girl sitting there was Kora, based on how young she was – she still had round cheeks of youth and wide, soft brown eyes.

Bobbi waited for everyone else to take their food, poised to fold her hands and say grace if Melinda and Phil were that kind of parents. Kora started eating without waiting, though, so Bobbi followed her lead, twirling the spaghetti around her fork slowly and deliberately.

Conversation slowly began to pick back up again once everyone had been served. Phil and Melinda inquired about their children’s days at school and they gave answers in various levels of detail. Daisy – who wore enough eyeliner that Bobbi was confident she was the elder of the two sisters – chattered on in detail about all her classes, especially computer science, while Fitz just gave a short fine when asked about school. Kora was somewhere in between, elaborating when asked but not offering much unprompted.

“What about you, Bobbi?” Melinda asked when the other kids had gone.

Bobbi gave her a wary look. How did Melinda think the school day had gone for her? She was saved by having to answer by her phone buzzing in her pocket.

“Sorry,” Bobbi apologized immediately. She hadn’t thought about bringing her phone down to the dinner table – it was force of habit. “I’ll go put this back in my room.”

“Is your boyfriend texting you?” Kora asked with the combination of childlike innocence and boy-craziness only a middle school girl could possess.

Bobbi glanced at Melinda, then at Phil. “Yeah, it’s probably him,” she admitted. “I sent him a message earlier but he was busy.”

Melinda and Phil exchanged a glance that wasn’t subtle, but probably wasn’t meant to be, either. Bobbi expected she was going to get an entirely new list of house rules now that they knew she had a boyfriend. “Should I go -?” she asked, looking at her foster parents expectantly.

“Yes, you can put it back. Try to remember next time,” Melinda said, not unkindly. Hopefully they understood that habits took time to break and wouldn’t punish her the next time she inevitably forgot.

Bobbi ran back up the stairs, and when she was at her bedroom fished her phone out of her pocket. Hunter had texted three more times, all variations of it’s going to be okay, Bob. She bit her lip but ultimately decided against texting him back – he’d want to start a conversation and she wouldn’t be able to respond again until dinner was done.

She set the phone on her desk gently before pivoting and returning to the dinner table. This time the conversation didn’t halt when she sat back down, which she counted as a win.

“So, Bobbi,” Daisy said when she and Kora had finished bickering about something – maybe candles? Bobbi wasn’t entirely sure. “Tell us about your boyfriend.”

“Daisy,” Fitz sighed before Bobbi could answer. “I don’t care about her boyfriend.”

“I do!” Daisy defended. “And so does Kora! Right, Kora?”

“Yeah!”

“Maybe you could consider asking Bobbi questions about herself before you start asking about her boyfriend,” Melinda suggested gently.

“Yes, Mom,” Kora said obediently. “Bobbi, what do you like to do in your free time?”

Bobbi shrugged, pushing her food around on her plate to give herself time to think. “I run. I used to do tae kwon do before school got harder. I read a lot.” Oh, shit. She had library books at her nana’s house, and she didn’t want to use her hard-earned allowance money on fines for overdue books. Hopefully Gonzales made good on his promise to get everything to her by Monday.

“Fitz reads a lot too! Right, Fitz?” Kora said, turning to her brother eagerly.

“Yeah. They’re mostly engineering or physics books, though.”

Bobbi resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose. “I didn’t really like physics when I took it.” Her teacher had talked too fast and expected her to memorize way too many formulas she was never going to use again in her life.

“Oh, don’t say that in front of Fitz. He worships the ground Isaac Newton walks on,” Daisy said, grinning.

“Like you’re much better, Miss Ada-Lovelace-is-the-universe’s-gift-to-me!” Fitz grumbled back.

“Don’t insult Ada!”

Fitz and Daisy continued bickering and Bobbi relaxed slightly, glad to no longer be the center of attention.

“They always do this,” Kora said, turning to Bobbi. “Feel free to tell them to shut up.”

“Kora,” Melinda warned.

She sighed. “Feel free to tell them to be quiet. We don’t say shut up to our siblings.”

Bobbi nodded in silent agreement before returning to her pasta. She couldn’t eat much before she was full – it felt like her stomach had shrunk while she was with her nana and not eating three square meals a day, and the last thing she wanted was to spend her first night with her foster family throwing up because she couldn’t control herself.

She put her fork down quietly and let the waves of the conversation wash over her. Fitz and Daisy had stopped bickering, but they had moved on to talking about someone named Mack who Bobbi didn’t know anything about.

“Is that all you’re going to eat, sweetheart?” Melinda asked when she noticed Bobbi had finished eating.

Bobbi nodded wordlessly, and Melinda didn’t push, just took Bobbi’s place with hers to the sink.

“May I be excused?” Bobbi asked when Melinda returned to the table.

“If you’d like, yes.”

The words were no sooner out of Melinda’s mouth than Bobbi was out of her seat. She was surprised to find Cap followed her to her bedroom without prompting, and her heart tugged when he settled on the floor near her bed.

Bobbi grabbed her phone from where she had put it on the desk and hopped into her bed, opening her messages as she tucked herself under the sheets.

[Bobbi]: Sorry, no phones at the dinner table.

It didn’t take more than a few seconds for her phone to ping with a response.

[Hunter]: Are you okay?

[Bobbi]: Yeah, I’m okay.

[Bobbi]: Can I call you?

Rather than text a response, Hunter called her instead.

“Hi,” Bobbi sighed when she picked up the phone. Her shoulders slumped slightly as she let go of the tension she’d been holding onto for all of dinner.

“Hi, love.” Hunter’s end of the line rustled slightly and Bobbi assumed he was leaving whatever room he had been in. He had probably been with his moms, Bobbi mused. “Everything alright?”

“I already told you I’m fine, Hunter,” she said, simultaneously exasperated and secretly pleased he had bothered to ask again.

“That’s not the same as everything being alright.”

“It’s not,” Bobbi agreed. “But they seem nice, I guess.”

“Other kids?” Hunter asked. He had been in a few homes with other children when he was in foster care himself, ending in a home that gave him a permanent older brother when he had been adopted.

“Three in the house, but they kept talking about someone named Mack? So maybe four?” Bobbi said. She hadn’t been paying much attention and only the kids in the house really mattered to her, since they were the ones she had to live with. “Two girls and a boy. They’re all younger than me.”

“Oof.”

“Oof,” Bobbi agreed. There weren’t many ways a child in the house could be older than her, given that Bobbi only had nine months until she turned eighteen, but Bobbi didn’t have any practice at all at being an older sister. She hoped things didn’t get too messy.

“You know I’m here for you, right, Bob?”

“Of course.” Hunter was the most constant thing in her life, and had been since they’d started dating two years ago. “I just… don’t really know what to say.”

Hunter hummed his agreement, the sound buzzing through Bobbi’s chest and filling her with warmth. The best thing about Hunter was that he didn’t have to pretend to understand what it was like to be a foster kid and be shuttled around from home to home; he had lived it himself, so there was no faux sympathy.

“We can talk about it on Monday, if you want,” he offered when Bobbi still hadn’t spoken after a minute of silence.

She blew out a breath through her mouth. “I’m transferring schools.”

“Oh.” Hunter paused. “Do you reckon your foster parents will still let you come to our homecoming?”

“I really hope so.” Bobbi caught her lip between her teeth, resisting the urge to chew on it. Her therapist had said that was a bad habit, something about redirecting her anxieties in a self-destructive manner. Ugh. New home probably meant a new therapist, too. “I don’t want this to ruin senior year.”

“It won’t, love,” Hunter assured her. “Things will just look different. We can do different.”

“We can,” Bobbi agreed with a small smile.

There was a knock on the bedroom door, and Bobbi sighed. “One sec,” she said, putting the phone down on her bed and crossing to open the door. Daisy stood on the other side, a neatly folded pile of clothes in her arms.

“Sorry, were you busy?”

“It’s fine,” Bobbi said in a non-answer.

“Mom wanted me to give you these to sleep in until you can go to the store,” Daisy said, offering the stack of clothes. “No one in the house is really your size but these were things Mack never used and he’s bigger than you, so…”

“Thanks,” Bobbi said, accepting the pile into her arms. It was then she noticed the chocolate bar balanced on top.

“Mom thinks you’re too skinny,” Daisy informed her when she saw Bobbi looking.

“She told you that?” Bobbi blanched.

“No, but she had a look in her eye.” Daisy said with a small smile. “She did it to Fitz when he came here, too. I think it’s just a foster parent thing.”

“Right.”

“Mom also wanted me to tell you that you can sleep in tomorrow, in case you were worried about that.” Bobbi hadn’t been, since she wasn’t going to school - it hadn’t occurred to her she’d need to be up early for any other reason. “You guys can just go to the store whenever you wake up.”

“Cool,” Bobbi answered. She knew she wasn’t doing her part in keeping the conversation going, but there wasn’t much for her to ask that wouldn’t come off as rude.

“I’ll let you be,” Daisy said finally. “If you, um, want to talk or anything I normally stay up pretty late. I’ll just be in the basement.”

“Thanks, Daisy.” Bobbi tried to put some measure of gratitude behind her words, but she worried they just fell flat. She was glad someone in the house cared about getting to know her, but that relief was still buried under layers of other emotions she didn’t want to acknowledge or explore. “And thanks for the chocolate.”

“No problem.” Daisy gave an awkward little wave before bounding back down the stairs, leaving Bobbi to return to her phone on her bed.

“You still there?” she asked when she picked it up.

“Yup.”

“Apparently I’m going shopping with my foster mom tomorrow,” Bobbi said.

“That’s a good sign, right?”

“Depends, I guess.” Bobbi sighed. “I don’t think they’re going to be the ‘pick everything from the sale rack’ kind of people, considering the size of this house, but…”

“The size of the house?”

“Oh my God, Hunter, it’s huge. I would not be surprised if they had a movie theatre in their basement or something.”

“Pool?”

“I did not ask. But again, it wouldn't surprise me.”

“What do they do for a living?”

“No clue.” The next week or so would be spent gathering that information - who Mack was, what Phil and Melinda did, what their last name was, and a whole host of other things she wanted to know but didn’t have the guts to ask.

“As long as they don’t hurt you, I guess,” Hunter said with a sigh.

“If they do you’ll be the first person to know,” Bobbi promised. She trusted Hunter, and Hunter’s moms were basically the only adults in her life she trusted, too. If anything went horribly wrong she still had the barest semblance of a fallback plan. “I should probably get ready for bed,” Bobbi said a minute later. She wouldn’t be sleeping for a while, but if she didn’t let Hunter go soon he wouldn’t be able to finish his homework.

“You going to be able to sleep without Birdie?”

Bobbi blushed bright red. “I’ll be fine, Hunter.” She was seventeen, she didn’t need her dumb stuffed animal, even if the bed did feel kind of big and lonely with nothing else in it.

“If you need me tonight, you call me, okay?” Hunter asked.

“You have school tomorrow.”

“Yeah, and?”

Bobbi huffed a sigh into the phone. She knew her boyfriend was a stubborn idiot, but he was her stubborn idiot, and she supposed she ought to be glad he thought she was more important than school. “You doing well is important. Vic and Izzy won’t be happy if your grades start slipping.”

“One sleepless night is not going to make me fail my classes, Bob.” Bobbi didn’t need to see Hunter’s face to know he was rolling his eyes at her. “Please just let me worry about you?”

“There’s nothing to worry about. I promise.”

“Okay.” Hunter cleared his throat into the phone. “I love you.”

Bobbi smiled, holding the phone closer to her ear like it would somehow bring Hunter closer to her, too. She’d give an awful lot for one of his hugs right now. “I know. Don’t do anything dumb wtihout me tomorrow, okay?”

“No promises.”

“Lance.”

“Fine, fine. Sleep well, Bob.”

She half wanted to play the stupid no you hang up first game, but Bobbi stopped herself before the words could actually get out of her mouth. Hunter would think something was wrong if she did that.

Nothing was wrong, really. It was just that now with the call ended, alone in a strange bedroom, Bobbi had to confront the fact that this was not her home. This was not the place she’d spent the last two years, with someone who loved her. Even if her nana wasn’t the best at always remembering to take care of her, Bobbi knew that she tried. She had thought her grandmother loved her, too, but her willingness to sign away her rights was making Bobbi doubt even that.

And now Hunter had gotten her thinking about Birdie, and all Bobbi wanted was to cuddle the stupid toy. She took a deep breath in through her mouth and blew it out slowly, fighting back tears. She would be fine, with or without Birdie.

She would be fine, because she always was.

Chapter Text

By the time Bobbi woke up the next morning, the other kids had already left for school. Phil had driven Daisy so he could talk with the people at the office about registering Bobbi for her classes, which meant she was home alone with Melinda.

Her foster mother was sitting at the table nursing a mug when Bobbi came down the stairs around eight, but the unmistakable smell of coffee was absent. Bobbi didn’t question it, just slid into the chair across from her at the kitchen table.

“What do you want for breakfast?” Melinda asked, nearly folding the newspaper she had been reading. “We’ve got cereal, some toaster waffles, peanut butter and Nutella for toast, fruit…?”

“I don’t normally eat breakfast.”

“It’s a good habit to get into,” Melinda said.

“I guess.” Bobbi shrugged. She had never eaten breakfast before and she was fine, so why start now?

“Do you want anything?”

“No, thank you.”

“Are you ready to go to the store?” Melinda asked, her smile tight around the edges.

“Do you have a hairbrush I can use? I didn’t want to use Kora’s without asking her permission.” There had been an extra toothbrush set out for her when Bobbi woke up and her clothes from yesterday were still clean enough that she could wear them again, but her hair was matted down from sleep.

“You can use mine for now and we can get you a new one at the store,” Melinda offered. “Do you want to see the list I made?”

Bobbi nodded and Melinda produced a list from inside her purse. She scribbled something at the bottom - hairbrush, Bobbi presumed - before handing it over.

It was all pretty standard stuff to begin with - shirts, pants, socks, shoes, dresses and skirts both with question marks by them, shampoo, conditioner, deodorant, toothpaste, a backpack, some school supplies - but by the time Bobbi got to the bottom of the list she was blushing. Bras (size?), pads (or tampons?), condoms. Condoms! That must’ve been added last night after she mentioned having a boyfriend, Bobbi decided.

“I use pads, not tampons.” Bobbi said, failing to fight down the blush rising in her neck and cheeks. “And I don’t need condoms.” Even if she and Hunter were having sex - which they weren’t - she wasn’t going to admit that to her foster mother after knowing her for less than twenty-four hours.

Melinda took the list back with a nod, marking off the two items Bobbi said she didn’t need. “Is there anything else you want to add?”

“No, thank you.” It was already expensive enough to buy a teenager an entire wardrobe without adding other frivolous things to the list.

“Alright. We’ll also be talking about your allowance sometime soon, and if you need anything Phil or I can take you to the store.”

“I have my driver’s license,” Bobbi offered quietly. She didn’t anticipate needing anything so important she couldn’t wait to get it, and she’d rather not be asking Phil or Melinda to ferry her back and forth. Getting an allowance was already a new thing, and she didn’t want to push her luck.

“Then we can talk about driving later, too,” Melinda said. She pulled out another piece of paper from her purse and wrote something on it before putting it back where it had come from. Melinda liked to make lists - that was good to know. “Now, hairbrush?”

Bobbi’s hair didn’t take long to untangle with a proper brush, and in short order she and Melinda were on their way to the store.

“I didn’t know your grandmother had taught you how to drive,” Melinda said as she pulled out of the neighborhood. “From what Robert - Mr. Gonzales - said it sounded like she didn’t have a license herself.”

“She didn’t. My boyfriend’s moms were the ones who taught me.” It had been a pretty good system, actually - Izzy would pick her up from her nana’s house and make her drive to the Hartley home. She and Hunter would spend time together, watching a movie or playing a game, before Vic took Hunter driving and Izzy took Bobbi. They’d all come back together for dinner, then Vic would make Bobbi drive them back to her nana’s house. She’d spent practically every day the summer before her junior year like that, and most Saturdays of the school year, too.

“You two have been together for a while, then?” Melinda guessed.

“Two years.”

“That’s a long time for kids your age.”

“We make it work.” Both being foster kids had given them something to bond over initially, but Bobbi’s relationship with Hunter had grown beyond that quickly. He listened to her when she talked, something she hadn’t really had since her parents had died, and when things changed and she moved in with her nana, Hunter had stayed the same.

“How old were you and Phil when you got married?” Bobbi asked, hoping to avoid another question about her relationship with Hunter.

“I was twenty-one and Phil was twenty-three.”

Bobbi whistled, and something warm lodged in her chest when Melinda smiled at her.

“Are you thinking about marriage, then?” Melinda prodded gently. Bobbi bit back a sigh. So much for avoiding questions about herself.

“His moms want us to wait until after he graduates college.”

“And are you going to?”

“I’m not the one doing the proposing.” Never mind that she had thought about the answer to the question regardless. Logic told her that getting married young probably wasn’t the best idea - if they were meant to be together it wouldn’t matter if they took another year or five to get down the aisle - but her oft-ignored feelings told her that if Hunter asked her to marry him, she would say yes.

She never had been much good at saying no to him.

Melinda just nodded her response and returned her focus to driving. Melinda pulled into the parking lot of the Target and Bobbi looked around the shopping center curiously. She had never been in this part of the county before, and the shopping center was larger than any she’d seen before. There was the Target they were parked in front of, but also a Walmart, a Kohl’s, a Giant, some hobby store, and a handful of fast food places.

“We should be able to get everything we need at Target,” Melinda said, catching Bobbi’s attention again. She nodded, getting out of the car and shutting the door behind herself quickly.

Bobbi fell into step behind Melinda easily; even if her foster mother was several inches shorter than her, she walked quickly and purposefully. Melinda steered them into the woman’s clothing section and stopped in the center.

“What do you like?” she asked when Bobbi still hadn’t moved after a full minute. The amount of clothing hanging around her would’ve been overwhelming even without the knowledge that she had to build her entire wardrobe from scratch, and she was busy trying to take everything in.

“Um…” What she liked hadn’t played a role in her clothing shopping… well, ever. Before her parents had died her mom had always picked her clothes out for her, and after that there were considerations about what her various caregivers could afford.

Melinda frowned and Bobbi bit her lip. She hadn’t meant to be difficult - she just didn’t know where to start when faced with so many choices.

“Sorry -” she began.

“You don’t need to apologize,” Melinda interrupted. “Let’s go look at something easier and we’ll come back when we’ve done the rest of our shopping, okay?”

Bobbi nodded, following Melinda into the area of the clothing section devoted to undergarments. That was easier - plain black, white, and nude had always served Bobbi well. She hesitated in front of the selection of sports bras, but only for a moment before picking a multi-color one from the pile. She looked to Melinda for permission and her foster mother nodded encouragingly, so Bobbi placed it in the cart with the other bras.

It only occurred to Bobbi that she hadn’t checked a single price tag when they had already walked away from the clothing section. She glanced at Melinda out of the corner of her eye, weighing her options. She could try to sneak a few items out of the cart, but Bobbi had a feeling she’d be caught. It probably wasn’t worth the fight.

“Do you want to get a pair of running shoes?” Melinda asked when they passed by the shoe aisle.

“Why?”

“You said you run,” Melinda answered patiently. Right - Bobbi had mentioned it at dinner last night. She hadn’t realized Melinda was actually listening. “Running shoes can keep you from getting injured.”

“It’s really not that big of a deal,” Bobbi said. She’d been running in her old tennis shoes for years and nothing bad had happened.

“Bobbi,” Melinda said softly. “We don’t want you to get hurt.”

Bobbi swallowed past the lump that suddenly appeared in her throat. “I’d have to see if the new school’s done track tryouts yet,” she said finally. No point in getting expensive running shoes if she wasn’t even going to run, was there?

“Okay.” Melinda pressed her lips together and even though she wasn’t frowning, Bobbi got the impression she’d done something to disappoint her foster mother. At least that wasn’t anything new.

They went through the rest of the store picking up everything on Melinda’s list, from Bobbi’s favorite shampoo to a new loofa. She got a new hairbrush that was sturdy and a different color from Kora’s - a pastel teal color to contrast with the bright pink of Kora’s.

“Is that your favorite color?” Melinda asked when Bobbi picked it out.

Bobbi shrugged. “I like blue, I guess. It’s Hunter’s favorite color.”

“Hunter?”

“My boyfriend,” Bobbi answered, belatedly realizing she’d never actually referred to him by name.

“You talk about him a lot,” Melinda said as she started pushing the shopping cart again.

“I don’t really have a lot of other friends.” Bobbi shrugged. “I moved halfway through the school year when I went to my old school, so everyone pretty much had their friends already.” There hadn’t been room for Bobbi in any of her old school’s friend groups - which wasn’t to say the other kids were mean to her, just that she’d never gotten close enough to anyone to feel comfortable sharing much about her life. People knew she was in foster care - her foster parents before her nana had never done anything to hide that or try to make her life seem more normal - and that was all they thought they needed to know. That was true for everyone except one scrawny kid who’d just gotten out of the foster care system himself. Hunter had plopped himself down beside her at lunch time and refused to leave until she told him her name, and that was the beginning and the end of everything.

“It sounds like you had a rough go of things,” Melinda said, pulling Bobbi from her reminiscing.

“I mean, it could be worse. I’ve got him now.” She shrugged. She’d accepted a long time ago that she was going to have to look out for herself; Hunter was a pleasant addition to her bubble of people she could trust to care about her, but she’d gotten by before him, too.

“I’m glad you have someone you think you can trust.”

Bobbi bristled. She didn’t think she could trust Hunter - she knew she could. He had been there for her even when every adult in her life had failed her, even when -

She crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself loosely as she and Melinda continued walking through the store. They had looped back around to the front, and the dreaded women's clothing section loomed in front of Bobbi once again.

She could do this. She could get some T shirts, some nicer blouses, a few pairs of jeans, a jacket, and call it a day.

Start with something blue, Bobbi told herself. She didn’t have an overwhelming preference for blue, but Hunter liked it, she liked making him happy, and she needed someplace to start to keep from standing and staring like she had earlier in the day.

Bobbi drifted towards a cornflower blue graphic tee that had the Star Wars logo printed on it in white ink. Hunter liked blue, she liked Star Wars, and they had the tee in her size. One item down, who knew how many more to go.

Melinda continued watching her as Bobbi painstakingly picked her way through the clothing section, trying to find items she would actually enjoy wearing that weren’t too expensive. And that was just the beginning of Bobbi’s criteria; there was a cute peach shirt with Ask Me About My Feminist Agenda written on it and a pastel rainbow tee that Bobbi deemed too unsafe when she was still trying to figure out where Melinda and Phil stood on various issues. She was cautiously optimistic they were at least not virulently homophobic with their speech about keeping her bedroom door open and Melinda’s non-reaction to Bobbi’s multiple mentions of Hunter’s moms, but that didn’t mean they’d be okay with their foster daughter parading around in rainbow clothing.

“Is this good?” Bobbi asked when she’d picked out as much clothing as she dared.

“Are you sure you don’t want anything else? It’s going to get cold soon.”

Bobbi sighed, but she had to admit Melinda was right; winters in Ohio weren’t a joke and she had mostly picked out short sleeved clothing. She threw a sweater and a sweatshirt on top of the pile she’d already amassed and turned to Melinda for approval.

“We’ll take you shopping again when Daisy and Kora look for their new winter coats,” was all her foster mother said. Bobbi’s shoulders sagged when Melinda turned around; again she got the impression she had let Melinda down without having any idea how.

Melinda grabbed a few more things Bobbi assumed they needed around the house before taking them through the checkout line. Bobbi tried her best not to pay attention to the total ticking up, biting her lip and turning away as it flew past one hundred dollars before the cart was even half-empty.

“Is it okay if we stop by the Giant?” Melinda asked as they wheeled out of the Target with their purchases. “They just restocked Kora’s favorite snack and I promised her I’d get some.”

Bobbi nodded. “What’s Kora’s favorite?” she asked.

“Blue raspberry gummy sharks,” Melinda answered. They reached the car and Bobbi opened the trunk to begin loading in the clothing. “Kora likes the ones that have cherry syrup inside. It’s supposed to look like blood, I think.”

“Kora does know that people kill more sharks than sharks kill people, right?” Bobbi asked.

“I’ve told her.” Melinda offered a small smile. “I think she just likes the cherry flavor.”

“Good,” Bobbi said as she put the last bag in the trunk. “Because there’s already enough stigma against sharks without people adding to it.”

“Mr. Gonzales said you’re interested in biology?” Melinda asked, shutting the trunk.

“Yeah, it’s cool,” Bobbi said with a shrug. “If I was going to college that’s what I’d want to study, I think.”

Melinda nodded, clicked the lock to the car, and began leading Bobbi to the Giant. “Maybe you can help Kora with her science homework, then. Fitz tries but he gets frustrated pretty easily.”

“Teaching is hard,” Bobbi said. “But I helped tutor Hunter and that was fun.”

“Was it just fun because he was your boyfriend?” Melinda asked. Bobbi blinked. Was her foster mother teasing her? She thought so, given the smile

“I mean, that was before we started dating, so…” she answered awkwardly, shoving her hands into her pockets.

Melinda just nodded again. They reached the entrance to the Giant and Melinda grabbed a shopping basket from the tower.

“Are there any snacks you like?” she asked.

“Um.” Bobbi forced herself not to catch her lip between her teeth again - if she kept biting it, it would get bloody and raw. “I like cheese curls. And popcorn with extra butter.”

“Phil likes extra-butter popcorn too, so there’s plenty in the house already,” Melinda informed her. “I’ll show you where in the pantry everything is, and you’re welcome to as much as you want. Just make sure you don’t ruin your dinner.”

Bobbi nodded her head in a nod. “Is it okay if I get something for Daisy?” she asked when they began walking down the candy aisle. She doubted her foster sister had given her the chocolate bar with the expectation of getting something in return, but if they were already buying candy…

Melinda raised her eyebrows. “Sure, if you want to.”

“What does she like?” Bobbi asked, hovering in front of the chocolate section. That had been what Daisy gave her, so it would be appropriate to give chocolate too, right?

“She likes caramel. And pretzels. And nuts,” Melinda offered. “Really, give her anything and chocolate and she’ll be happy.”

“Do you think she’d like this?” Bobbi asked, picking up a turtle chocolate bar. It had caramel and pecans, so it combined two of Daisy’s likes into one bar.

“Yes,” Melinda answered softly. “I think she would.”

“I guess we should get something for Fitz too, right?” Bobbi asked. She’d feel bad going home with candy for Kora and Daisy and nothing for her new foster brother.

“Fitz likes sour candy,” Melinda said before Bobbi could ask.

She nodded to herself and swept down the candy aisle to where the gummy candies were. She handed a package of gummy sharks to Melinda after checking they had the cherry filling, then inspected the offering of sour candies. There were Sour Patch Kids, obviously, but also Warhead gummies and sour punch straws and even sour Starburst.

Sour Patch Kids were the classic, though, so Bobbi grabbed a package of them and added them to the basket, too.

“What do you like?” Bobbi asked when she turned back to Melinda.

“I don’t have much of a sweet tooth.”

“You don’t like any candy?”

“You haven’t picked out anything for yourself.”

“I don’t need anything,” Bobbi deflected quickly.

“I know you don’t need anything,” Melinda said. “But do you want anything?”

I want to be at home with my nana, Bobbi thought, shoving her hands into her pockets. Sure, her new foster family was nice and it was probably for the better that she wasn’t with her nana anymore, but… with her nana she didn’t have to ask questions about what anyone liked, and if she wanted something she could just get it when she did the grocery shopping. And sure, sometimes getting herself candy wasn’t possible on the budget they had, but…

“I’m fine,” she mumbled.

“Let’s go get you those cheese curls, then. How about McDonald’s for lunch?”

Bobbi agreed readily, trailing after Melinda as they went deeper into the grocery store.

---

Bobbi lifted her head from her pillow when she heard the front door open. She had just finished hanging her newly-purchased clothes in her closer and hadn’t been sure what else to do before dinner, but based on the time, it seemed like Daisy was home from school.

Melinda had put Fitz and Kora’s candies in their respective rooms, but had allowed Bobbi to hold onto the chocolate bar she’d chosen for Daisy so Bobbi could hand-deliver it. She grabbed the candy bar from her night stand and padded down the stairs quickly.

“Bobbi!” Phil said when he saw her. “Do you have a minute?”

Bobbi glanced around - it seemed like Daisy had already retreated to the basement - before nodding.

“Awesome. Come here.” Bobbi followed him to the kitchen table, and watched warily as Phil began pulling papers out of his briefcase.

“This is your class schedule,” he said, sliding one of the papers over to her. “I had a copy of the classes you were taking at your old school, so they transferred you into the classes they thought were most similar. The office said you could try this schedule for a week and have a meeting with your school counselor if you need any changes.”

Bobbi nodded, eyes flicking over the schedule. AP English, AP Biology, AP Psychology, AP History… She hadn’t been in AP classes at her old school, but she wasn’t going to ask Phil about it.

“Here’s a map of the school. Daisy marked where all your classrooms are on the car ride home. She might’ve made some other notes, too - I didn’t look.” Bobbi accepted the next paper with slightly more interest. Her new high school was bigger than her older one, but hopefully the map helped her not get lost. There was a huge X drawn over one of the hallways, which Bobbi was going to have to ask about when she went to deliver Daisy’s gift.

“And here’s seven copies of the note the office wrote up for your teachers explaining the situation.”

“Can I read it?” Bobbi asked as she took the stack of papers.

“Sure, if you’d like.”

Bobbi skimmed, but the letter didn’t seem to be anything bad - just that Bobbi was a student transferring in and her schedule was liable to change depending on how her first week of class went. There was one mention of foster care but it was quick enough that Bobbi guessed most teachers wouldn’t think too hard about it. That would be good for her; her first time as a high schooler in foster care hadn’t been fun thanks to her foster family’s insistence that everyone know Bobbi was a foster child.

“You won’t have to make up any homework you missed, but the office ladies did say your AP teachers would probably want you to do the readings so you’d be prepared for the test.”

“The AP tests cost money,” Bobbi said uncertainly, looking up at Phil.

“We’ll cross that bridge when we get there, okay?” Phil asked.

Bobbi nodded. She could do one step at a time, if she was thinking about it - she was just much better at seeing several steps ahead, so she could avoid problems before they happened.

“Cap normally gets his afternoon walk when Daisy comes home from school, if you’re still interested in that being your chore,” Phil said as Bobbi gathered her pile of papers.

“Can I go talk to Daisy first?” Bobbi asked.

Phil cocked an eyebrow. “Sure, go ahead.”

Bobbi descended to the basement slowly, but was grateful to find Daisy’s bedroom didn’t take up the entirety of the basement. There was a home theatre, and Bobbi smirked to herself, making a mental note to text Hunter later. He was staying late at school because the first run of the school’s newspaper was going out on Monday, and as editor-in-chief he had to make sure every last detail was just as it ought to be.

Daisy’s room was easy to spot, thanks to the bright yellow-and-white flowers painted on the door. Bobbi knocked.

“Come in!”

The room was brighter than Bobbi would’ve expected from someone who favored dark eyeliner and beanies, and airier than a basement room had any right to be. Daisy was propped on the bed by a pile of pillows, laptop perched on her lap.

“I, uh, got this for you when Melinda and I went to the store today,” Bobbi said, shuffling closer to Daisy and holding out the chocolate bar awkwardly.

Daisy set the laptop aside, accepting the candy. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I know,” Bobbi answered, shuffling around the papers she was still holding just to have something to do. “But I wanted to say thank you. For being nice.”

“It’s really no big deal,” Daisy insisted. “I don’t remember much about when I first got to Phil and Melinda’s but Trip being nice to me made a lot of difference.”

“Who’s Trip?” Bobbi asked, deciding that was a better question than you were adopted? She had gotten the impression Daisy and Kora were Phil and Melinda’s biological children.

“He’s one of my older brothers. Mack’s the other one.” Daisy put the chocolate down on her nightstand and grabbed a picture frame, which she handed to Bobbi. The picture looked a year or two old, and had obviously been taken at Christmastime, if the Santa hat on Phil’s head was any indication.

“Mack’s the one standing behind Mom. The woman next to him is Elena, and then that’s Trip,” Daisy said, pointing to the other man in the photo Bobbi didn’t recognize.

“They look nice,” Bobbi said, handing the photo back. Daisy settled it back into place carefully, and Bobbi’s heart tugged. It would be nice to have a photo of her family like that, one that she treasured. The closest she had was a worn photo from her eleventh birthday party. Her parents had been wearing a stupid birthday hat and instead of laughing Bobbi had been pouting. If she had known that was the last photo she’d have of her and her parents she would’ve smiled.

“Mack normally drops by on the weekends, so you’ll meet him eventually. I think Mom and Dad asked him to skip this week so you’d have some time to adjust.” Daisy patted the bed next to her and Bobbi only hesitated a little before sinking onto the bed beside Daisy. “Are you okay?” Daisy asked softly. “I know it’s a lot to take in.”

“I don’t think your mom likes me very much,” Bobbi admitted quietly.

“Dad calls her emotionally constipated,” Daisy informed Bobbi. “She likes you. It’s just been a long time since there’s been a new kid in the house and she’s bad at self-expression. Or something like that.” Daisy grimaced. “Dad had to give me the same lecture but that was like, ten years ago or something. And he used little-kid words, so…”

“Okay,” Bobbi sighed, still not entirely convinced. “I have to go walk the dog, so…”

“Do you like hugs?” Daisy asked abruptly.

“Uh. Sure?” Bobbi wasn’t sure why she was being asked that question.

“Can I give you one?”

Oh. That was why.

“Sure,” Bobbi said, despite not being sure at all. She couldn’t remember the last time someone other than Hunter had hugged her, which probably should concern her.

Daisy wrapped her arms around Bobbi’s shoulders, and Bobbi couldn’t imagine not being sure about this. Daisy’s arms were careful and gentle, but not weak or hesitant. She smelled like unfamiliar shampoo and a faintly floral perfume, and after a moment of hesitation Bobbi let herself sink into the hug, wrapping her arms around Daisy in return.

Maybe this wasn’t home, but at least she had someone on her side.

Chapter Text

By the time Bobbi made it to her first period class, she already wanted to go home. She and Daisy had taken the bus to school and Daisy had spent the entire time before the first bell showing Bobbi the quickest routes from class to class and had even offered to walk Bobbi in between classes if she needed to. Bobbi didn’t think Melinda would be very happy if she made Daisy late to class even accidentally, so she had declined.

Daisy had waited with her outside the door of her first period classroom until the first bell rang, waving a hasty goodbye as she prepared to dash across the school to the technology wing.

Bobbi’s first class was AP Biology, which would’ve been a relief if she wasn’t already two weeks behind everyone else. Bobbi knew biology, she understood biology. If she had to start the day with math, or worse, Home Ec, she probably wouldn’t make it through.

“You must be Bobbi,” her teacher (a young woman named Dr. Cho) said when she walked up to the desk. Bobbi nodded, handing over the letter from the office meekly.

“This all seems to be in order,” Dr. Cho said after she’d glanced over the letter. “Stay for a minute after class and I’ll give you your textbook and the list of readings you missed. You can take that desk at the back next to Anne.”

There were exactly thirty desks in the classroom, five rows of six. The rows of six were split into two groups of three with an aisle up the middle, and by the time Bobbi and Dr. Cho had finished talking, there was only one empty one - the back corner furthest by the door. Bobbi assumed the girl in the middle of her row of three was Anne, an assumption that was immediately proven correct.

“Hi,” the girl said when Bobbi put her stuff down. “I’m Anne.”

“Bobbi,” she answered with a tight smile.

“Transfer student?” Anne asked curiously.

“Not exactly.” Bobbi pulled out the notebook she was going to be using for bio as well as a package of mechanical pencils Melinda had insisted she take with her.

Anne didn’t seem fazed by Bobbi’s non-answer. “Cool. Do you need copies of the first few weeks of notes?”

“Um, Dr. Cho said she’d give me the textbook and the reading assignments after class. She didn’t mention the class notes,” Bobbi said.

“If she says you can have a classmate’s copy, you’re more than welcome to mine,” Anne said. She flipped open her notebook and Bobbi blinked back her surprise at the orderly, color-coded notes Anne had apparently been taking since the beginning of the school year.

“Thanks,” Bobbi said faintly. “You really like bio?”

“I want to major in it when I go to college. I’m hoping to get a PhD, but I know I have to get through undergrad first, so, one step at a time.” Anne flipped to a new, clean page in her notebook, letting out a soft, contented sigh. “What about you?”

“This is my third time taking a bio class,” Bobbi admitted. “I’ve moved schools a lot.”

“That blows,” Anne said sympathetically. “Do you know anyone here?”

“Daisy Coulson. I’m staying with her family for a while.” Bobbi had expected that Fitz would also be going to school with her, but apparently he was going to some fancy magnet school so he could study engineering, leaving her and Daisy alone in the high school.

A look of recognition crossed Anne’s face, and Bobbi prepared herself for the pity that would come after. Instead Anne just nodded. “I really like Daisy. She’s a good kid.”

“She is,” Bobbi agreed. Before she and Anne could say anything more to each other, the late bell rang and Dr. Cho moved to the front of the room to begin teaching.

“Let me know if you need any help getting around the school or anything, okay?” Anne asked fifty minutes later when the bell rang to signal class was over. “And let me know what Dr. Cho says about the notes!”

“Thanks, Anne,” Bobbi said gratefully. Anne had spent the class patiently explaining everything needed to know to finish the assigned classwork in time, and even though they’d mostly talked about school, Bobbi was marginally less worried that everyone was going to be a jerk to her. She had never been good at making friends at her old school, but maybe a new school could mean new habits. Maybe. She wasn’t going to get ahead of herself.

Dr. Cho gave Bobbi her textbook and agreed that she could get copies of the class notes from Anne, as long as she also did the reading independently. Bobbi had been planning to do that anyways, so it wasn’t a hard trade-off.

She had to hurry to her second-period class, but scraped in just before the late bell. Just like in first period, she was sent to an empty desk in the back of the room. Her second class, introductory French, was entirely freshmen, and none of them seemed interested in talking to Bobbi.

So Anne being nice had been a fluke, just as Bobbi suspected.

Third period passed in the same way, but Bobib was delighted when she walked into fourth period and saw Anne sitting in the back of the room - right by an empty desk. There was significantly more pep in Bobbi’s step when her teacher once again sent her to the back, and she thudded down her pile of textbooks before sinking gratefully into the seat.

“How’s your day been?” Anne asked immediately. “Have you gotten lost yet?”

“No,” Bobbi answered, “Daisy showed me all my classes before school started so thankfully, not lost yet.”

“That’s a relief. Teachers are still having to fish freshmen out of the B wing, so…”

“I have a good memory for maps,” Bobbi said.

“And other things, if you’re in more than one AP class,” Anne said. “How many are you taking?”

“Five.”

Anne grinned. “I thought I was the only one crazy enough to do that.”

“I didn’t exactly make my schedule,” Bobbi said. “I wasn’t in APs in my old school.”

Anne made a face. “Godspeed.”

“Is it really that bad?”

“I mean, I don’t think so. But it kind of depends on which ones you’re taking.”

“Here.” Bobbi fished her schedule out of her backpack and handed it to Anne, who studied it intently for a few seconds.

“We have the other fourth period and sixth period together, too,” Anne announced. Daisy had had to explain fourth period to Bobbi twice before she’d understand it. Fourth period was twice as long as the other period, and alternated every other day. Fourth period was also the lunch period, hence its length - there were four half-hour lunches, and each class was randomly assigned to one of the lunches to keep the amount of students in the cafeteria manageable. Daisy hadn’t known which of the lunches Bobbi had for either of her fourth periods, so it was a good thing Anne (presumably) did.

“So what did you do to get put at the back of the room twice?” Bobbi asked when Anne had scribbled down their lunch blocks onto Bobbi’s schedule.

“Oh, it’s alphabetical by last name. I’m a W so I always end up in the back. Weaver,” she added when Bobbi opened her mouth to ask.

“I’m an M,” Bobbi said. “Morse.”

“Good thing you came to school late, then,” Anne said. “Otherwise we wouldn’t get put next to each other.”

When Anne smiled at her, Bobbi smiled back.

“If you want you can sit with me and my friends at lunch,” Anne offered. “None of them are in this class but we all have second lunch, so…”

“That would be nice,” Bobbi said. Not knowing which lunch she had meant she didn’t know whether or not Daisy would be there or if she’d have anyone to sit with.

“Just a warning, they can be kind of jerks sometimes.”

“I can deal with jerks,” Bobbi said. “My boyfriend is a jerk. But he’s my jerk.”

“Exactly.” Anne grinned. “Does your boyfriend still go to your old school?”

“Yeah,” Bobbi sighed. “I mean, I only moved last week so it hasn’t even been that long since I saw him, but it’s weird.”

Anne nodded, but didn’t say she understood. Bobbi appreciated that; she hated when people tried to compare their situation to her when it was objectively different. Most people would never understand what it was like to be a foster kid, and have your life turned upside down in one afternoon.

When their lunch period came, Anne led Bobbi to the cafeteria. In the interest of not overwhelming her too much on the first day, Melinda had packed a lunch so Bobbi didn’t need to go through the lunch line. Anne also had a brown bag lunch, so she was able to lead Bobbi straight over to an empty table near the back of the cafeteria.

Bobbi was surprised to see a neon orange sticky note on top of her lunch when she opened it. Melinda didn’t seem to be the kind of mother who wrote her kids notes.

Her confusion evaporated when the note turned out to be from Kora instead - Have a great day! and a large, loopy smiley face signed with her name.

Bobbi tucked the note into the pocket of her jeans so she didn’t accidentally throw it away.

Anne nudged her, pointing to two girls approaching the table. “That’s Alisha and Cecelia Whitley. They’re identical twins, we went to preschool together.”

“Hey Anne,” one of the girls chirped. Anne wasn’t kidding about them being identical - even the pattern of the spray of freckles across their noses looked identical to Bobbi. “Who’s this?”

“Bobbi Morse. She’s in Bio and APUSH with me. She just started today,” Anne answered. “She’s going to sit with us.”

“Nice to meet you, Bobbi,” the other twin said. “Why’d you transfer?”

Bobbi sighed. No use beating around the bush. “I’m in foster care.”

“Oh. Sorry.”

“It’s fine,” Bobbi mumbled, turning to her lunch. Beside the sandwich and juice box Melinda had packed, there was also a Ziploc bag full of cheese curls. Melinda had remembered.

“Head’s up,” Anne said, nudging Bobbi with her elbow. Bobbi turned to see another pair of people walking towards their table. These two definitely weren’t twins, at least. “Tomas Calderon and Ollie Stewart. Ollie’s the one on the left, they’re non-binary. They use they/them pronouns.”

Bobbi nodded her understanding, glad Anne had given her the head’s up so she didn’t accidentally stick her foot in her mouth.

“This is everyone,” Anne said once Ollie and Tomas had both sat down. “Ollie, Toe-Head, this is Bobbi Morse.”

“Nice to meet you both,” Bobbi said.

Tomas nodded and Ollie smiled, giving her a wave.

The group struck up a conversation about what they had done over the weekend but Bobbi didn’t contribute - she just sat and ate her cheese curls.

---

“How was your first day of school?” Phil asked when Bobbi came through the door. She startled - Phil hadn’t been there when she’d left for the morning, and she’d assumed he’d be at work all day.

“It was fine.” Nothing after lunch had been eventful, except for that the sewing unit in her Home Ec class was possibly going to kill her and she’d gotten to sit next to Anne again in their last period, English.

“Bobbi didn’t get lost even once!” Daisy said as they both made their way to the kitchen. “And she didn’t have to go through the Hell Hallway either.”

“Daisy,” Phil said, giving her a stern look.

Bobbi looked away from him, dropping the stack of textbooks she’d amassed on the table with a huff of relief. Every class except for Home Ec had given her a textbook, and they were heavy.

“What do you want me to call it, the Heck Hallway?” Daisy asked.

Phil shook his head good-naturedly. “Mr. Gonzales came by earlier and dropped off some things from your nana’s. He told me to apologize on his behalf for being a little late, but they’re all in your room now.”

“Thanks,” Bobbi said, excitement dripping through her against her better judgement. Some things probably didn’t mean everything she’d left at her nana’s, but she hoped at least the important stuff was there.

“Where’s Cap’s leash?” she asked. Even if she was excited to get back to her room, she still had chores to do.

“I’ll walk Cap today. You go see what Mr. Gonzales left.”

“Thanks, Phil!” Bobbi dashed up the stairs before he could change his mind, throwing open the door to her room.

There were two garbage bags on the bed, and Bobbi tried not to let that sting. She dumped them both out onto the floor, looking for two things and two things only. The first she found quickly - a worn blue bird plush. Bobbi scooped Birdie up into her arms, squeezing tightly. It had been embarrassingly hard to sleep without her stuffed animal, and Bobbi was relieved to have Birdie back.

Bobbi settled Birdie into her lap as she sifted through the rest of the things Mr. Gonzales brought. She sorted her library books into a neat stack, reminding herself to ask Phil and Melinda to drive her to the library sometime so she could drop them off. There were a couple of school papers she didn’t need anymore since she was taking classes at a different school, and those went into a separate pile. Bobbi was just about to give up hope when she spotted it - her picture.

She really should’ve put it in a frame, but every time Bobbi saw the last picture she had of her and her parents, she had an explicable urge to trace her fingers over her mother’s smile, her father’s pointed hat, the streamers in the corner. If she thought hard enough she could almost take herself back to that day, when the only thing she’d had to worry about was how embarrassing her parents were.

Bobbi sniffled, holding the photo away from her so she wouldn’t smudge it by crying. It was already faded enough from how much she touched it; she had to be careful or she might wear everything away completely.

She put Birdie on her bed and the photo on her nightstand, feeling much better now that she had them both in her possession and knew they were safe.

Her phone buzzed with a message from Hunter.

[Hunter]: How was your first day?

[Bobbi]: Okay

[Bobbi]: Mr. Gonzales brought me Birdie

[Hunter]: To school?

[Bobbi]: No, to Phil and Melinda’s house

[Bobbi]: Why would he bring it to school?

[Hunter]: ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Bobbi laughed at Hunter’s response, and proceeded to tell him about her day, including the new maybe-friend she had made and the boatload of work she had in front of her to get caught up. It would’ve been easy to make it through two weeks of schoolwork if she wasn’t also trying to do the homework from that day in class. She had been texting Hunter all weekend, so he was up-to-date on everything else that had happened, and she knew what was going on with him - namely, that everything was going well in his life, just as it should be.

[Hunter]: I’m sorry, Bob.

[Bobbi]: What for?

[Hunter]: You know what for.

[Bobbi]: Don’t be sorry. I had a good day.

Bobbi bit her lip as she waited for Hunter’s reply. He hadn’t told her outright that Vic and Izzy would be filing a report with CPS about what her nana was doing - or rather, what she wasn’t doing - but Bobbi had been able to put the pieces together when last week he’d started asking about what she would do if she had to go back into the system. She’d told him the truth, which was that she would be fine, and then a few days later Mr. Gonzales had showed up at her school. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what had happened.

She understood why he was feeling guilty. The system wasn’t a good place to be, even if you did get a relatively good family like Bobbi had seemed to this time around. Still, the five days she’d spent at the Coulson household had made her realize everything she was missing with her nana. She got three meals a day (Melinda had insisted on her eating breakfast that morning) and no one ever seemed to be shocked to see her in the house like they had forgotten she lived there, too. Bobbi would say that the Coulson family was a good fit for her, at least so far.

Maybe she would be singing a different tune if she’d gone back to a family like one of her previous foster families who didn’t give a damn about her, but… Bobbi would always appreciate that Hunter tried to do what was best for her. Sure, she would’ve appreciated a bit more of a head’s up, but he was doing his best.

They were both doing their best.

A knock came at the door and Bobbi left her phone on the floor with the rest of Gonzales’s things so she could answer the question Phil was asking about dinner. When she came back, Hunter had figured out what to say and left her a string of messages.

[Hunter]: I just want you to know I love you too much to see you hurting like that

[Hunter]: I asked my mums if they would take you in but they said it wouldn’t be appropriate since we’re dating

[Hunter]: So I figured foster care was better than breaking up

[Hunter]: Or maybe not. I don’t know.

[Bobbi]: No breaking up, please.

[Bobbi]: I am okay, Lance. I promise

[Bobbi]: Love you to the moon

[Hunter]: And back

[Bobbi]: <3

Chapter Text

Bobbi couldn’t stop shaking.

Her first week of school while living with the Coulsons hadn’t been awful; after the awkwardness of having to introduce herself to her teachers on Monday it was easy for her to fade into the background, especially while sitting at the back of the room. Anne continued to be nice to her even though Bobbi couldn’t contribute much to any normal high schooler conversation. The only part about her life that approached normal was her relationship with Hunter, but Anne and all of her friends were single so it didn’t come up often.

She wasn’t shaking because of school, though. She was shaking because she was finally going to meet the oldest Coulson sibling, and she was scared.

Daisy had spent the entire week telling Bobbi stories about Mack and what he was like when he was living in the house with her. It was obvious she adored him, and so did Kora and Fitz. If Mack didn’t like her, Bobbi was as good as sunk with the rest of the Coulsons - except maybe Phil and Melinda, but Melinda didn’t seem to particularly like her anyways, so that wouldn’t be too big of a loss.

Bobbi sighed and wiped her sweaty palms on her jeans. Mack was supposed to be there any minute for his weekend visit, and if he wanted a handshake she was not going to go into it with sweaty hands. It was bad enough the nerves were making her shake; it would be even worse if someone noticed. 

Cap let out a peal of loud barks, which probably meant Mack had arrived. Bobbi gulped before padding down the stairs. The rest of the family was already in the den, chattering excitedly. 

The front door opened and the family moved as one towards the entranceway. Daisy got there first and dashed into the waiting arms of her older brother. 

None of the photos Bobbi had seen had done justice to just how tall and broad Mack was. She had to look up to look him in the eyes, and he made her feel small, which didn’t happen often. Bobbi shuffled behind Phil, allowing the Coulson siblings to greet their brother with as much enthusiasm as they wanted without feeling guilty about forgetting about her. Behind Mack was a woman Bobbi had also seen in photos, albeit fewer of them - Elena, Mack’s wife. Elena seemed to sense Bobbi’s eyes on her and looked over, smiling. Bobbi blushed, averting her gaze. It was impolite to stare, even if she was staring at more new people she was supposed to know.

It was hard enough already to remember everything about the people she lived with. Melinda didn’t drink coffee but Phil didn’t drink tea, Fitz’s real name was Leo but Bobbi was never to call him that, Kora and Daisy were biologically related but not Phil and Melinda’s biological children, and all of them had entirely different tastes in movies that led to last night’s family movie night being a competition to figure out whose movie would reign supreme. Bobbi appreciated that Mack had skipped his visit last weekend to keep her from getting overwhelmed, but honestly, visiting now wasn’t much better in terms of preventing information overload. 

“Mack,” Elena said, nudging her husband’s elbow, “is there someone you’re forgetting to say hello to?”

“She’s hiding, Yo-Yo, she doesn’t want me saying hi to her,” Mack answered, releasing Daisy from the bear hug he had been giving her. Bobbi blushed, unsure whether she ought to stop trying to hide behind Phil (who was honestly too short to hide her, anyways) or double down and try to disappear completely.

“Bobbi, this is Mack,” Daisy said, grabbing Bobbi’s hand and dragging her forward. Bobbi almost tripped over Cap, who was still underfoot, but caught herself before she fell into Mack. That would’ve been the worst first impression ever. “You can call him Alphonso if he gets naughty, though.”

“Just Mack is fine,” the man in question said with a shake of his hand and a fond chuckle. “It’s nice to meet you, Bobbi.”

“You too,” Bobbi said, hating that her voice came out a squeak. 

“Come on,” Fitz groaned. “I have something to show Mack and I can’t show him if we just stand around talking all day!”

“Fitz,” Melinda said warningly.

“Sorry, Mum,” he sighed. “What I meant to say is, can we go to the den, please?”

Bobbi still marveled at how the Coulson family could move en masse without anyone tripping on anyone else. Bobbi floated at the back of the group since she hadn’t yet figured out how not to get trampled by the family. At least the dog was with her.

“They get easier to handle eventually.”

Bobbi startled at the unexpected voice, but nodded at Elena nonetheless. “I hope so.”

Elena just smiled and followed the rest of the family into the den.

Another thing Bobbi had learned at family movie night, beyond just how contentious movie-picking was, was that everyone in the family had their place. The seating arrangements shifted with Mack now in the mix, but the same thing that had been true last night was true now: there was no place for Bobbi to sit. She plopped on the floor, crossing her legs under her. Soon she’d be able to politely excuse herself and leave the rest of the family to their bonding time. It was obvious she didn’t belong there.

Bobbi tried not to look as miserable as she felt as she sat on the floor, listening to the sound of a happy family just… talking. It had happened every night that week at dinner, too, but no matter how many times she had to listen to the Coulson family being normal, it never got easier. Bobbi tried not to be bitter, but it was hard to be so close to it and know she would never have anything like it for herself. 

Her phone buzzed and Bobbi glanced down at it, expecting the text to be from Hunter. It wasn’t, though - it was from Anne. They’d exchanged numbers on Friday in case Bobbi had any questions about the notes Anne had given her, but she hadn’t expected the other girl to actually text her.

Bobbi glanced around the room, but no one seemed to notice she was checking her phone. 

[Anne]: Have you started doing the reading for bio yet?

[Bobbi]: Not yet. My foster brother’s visiting for the day so I’m supposed to be with family. Or something.

[Anne]: ‘Or something’?

[Bobbi]: It’s complicated.

Bobbi chewed on her lip, wondering if she’d already told Anne too much. She couldn’t exactly take back the text now, even if it was too much information.

[Bobbi]: I’ll let you know when I do the reading tho

[Bobbi]: What did you have questions about?

[Anne]: The Krebs Cycle

[Bobbi]: ick

[Anne]: ikr?

[Anne]: If you’re busy I’ll let you go

[Anne]: See you Monday! :)

[Bobbi]: See you Monday

When Bobbi shut her phone off again, she once again scanned the room and found no one was paying attention to her. She had been so worried about meeting Mack and what would happen that she hadn’t stopped to consider he might not even care about her at all. Somehow, that felt even worse.

She only vaguely followed the threads of conversation - Fitz, Mack, and Kora were in a deep discussion about a video game while the rest of the family caught up on life stuff. Bobbi was still trying to figure out what, exactly, Phil and Melinda’s jobs were. They didn’t bring their work home at all, so she was leaning towards something secret-agent-y… but she also wasn’t entirely sure what a pair of secret agents would be doing in the middle of Ohio, unless they had a Mr. and Mrs. Smith vibe going for them. That, and Bobbi also didn’t think secret agents were paid well enough to have such a big house.

“Mum,” Fitz asked, interrupting the conversation, “can I go show Mack my project now?”

“Do I finally get to see it too?” Daisy interrupted before Melinda could answer. 

“Yes, Fitz, you can show Mack your project. Daisy, ask your brother if you can see it.”

“Please?” Daisy said, turning to Fitz and giving him her best puppy eyes. Bobbi had learned those were extremely effective, especially against Phil. 

“Can I come too, Fitz?” Kora piped up.

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” Fitz sighed. “C’mon then.” 

The Coulson siblings and Elena paraded up the stairs to Fitz’s room, Cap hot on their heels. Bobbi was left in the den with Phil and Melinda, and she avoided looking at them even when she could feel their eyes boring into her.

“You wanna come sit on the couch, Bobbi?” Phil asked, patting the empty spot next to him.

“No thanks. Daisy’ll be back soon.”

“In our house if you leave the seat it’s fair game,” Phil said. “C’mon.”

Bobbi weighed the possibility of disappointing Phil against the possibility of Daisy being mad at her, and decided the former was probably scarier. She unfolded herself and joined Phil and Melinda on the couch, curling her knees into her chest.

“Was Hunter texting you?” Melinda asked from Phil’s other side. So someone had noticed that she’d been on her phone.

“No, um. The girl who sits next to me in class, Anne. She had a question about our reading.”

“Anne Weaver?” Melinda asked.

“Yeah, how’d you know?”

“She used to tutor Fitz. She helped him get his test scores high enough to get into The Academy,” Melinda explained. “He was good on math and science but couldn’t write an English paper if his life depended on it.”

“She’s applying to MIT,” Bobbi said, turning her phone over in her hands nervously. “And Princeton, and I think some other Ivy Leagues too.” Bobbi knew Anne was smart - she had to be, if she was in five APs - but hearing the list of colleges Anne was applying to had been kind of overwhelming. At least Anne hadn’t asked Bobbi where she was going to apply yet. Bobbi wasn’t sure how she’d explain that despite taking too many AP classes for her own good, she wasn’t going to be going to college. She had a small chunk of money from her inheritance she could spend to find an apartment after she aged out of the foster system, but it definitely wasn’t enough to cover even a semester of college. She could take out loans, maybe, but considering she had no credit and no co-signer, that wasn’t likely to happen.

(Bobbi ignored that Vic and Izzy had not-so-subtly offered to help finance her college career; they had enough to take care of with sending Hunter to college without worrying about her, too.)

“Not surprising,” Phil said, shaking his head. “She was smarter than me five years ago, I can only imagine what she’s like now.”

“She’s really nice,” Bobbi mumbled. 

Luckily Phil and Melinda didn’t do the embarrassing parent thing of asking her if she had a friend. Bobbi wasn’t even sure if Anne was her friend or if she was just being nice because she apparently knew the Coulson family and felt bad for Bobbi. They also didn’t ask if she wanted to invite Anne over, which was a relief. Bobbi didn’t want to invite someone who wasn’t her friend to a house that wasn’t hers.

“Have you heard from Hunter recently?” Melinda asked after a stretch of silence.

“We talked last night,” Bobbi said cautiously, unsure where the conversation was going. “He knew Mack was coming over today so he hasn’t texted.”

“When do we get to meet him?” Phil asked.

Bobbi gulped. So that was where they were going. “Um.”

She was saved from having to answer by Daisy flying back down the stairs. She took a look at Bobbi in her seat, blinked, and then claimed the chair Kora had been sitting in instead, flopping down dramatically. “I don’t know how they find that stuff interesting. Something something drag something something circuitry something something.”

“Isn’t that kind of what you do?” Bobbi asked, cocking her head. Daisy really liked computers, so shouldn’t she like robotics, too? What was the point of learning to code if the code didn’t actually do anything worthwhile?

“It’s different,” Daisy said without offering any further elaboration. “They’re corrupting my only sister! They’re making her want to become an engineer!”

“Technically Elena is your sister now, too,” Melinda said.

“Yeah, and she’s married to Mack, so she has to like whatever engineering things he gets into.” Daisy said engineering like it was a dirty word.

“That’s not how marriage works,” Phil and Melinda chorused.

“Bobbi, back me up!”

“Vic and Izzy don’t like all the same things,” Bobbi said with a shrug. Hunter’s parents were the only metric she had for what a healthy marriage looked like, since she hadn’t been paying attention to her own parents’ marriage when she still had them around. As far as she could tell Vic and Izzy shared a lot of the same interests, but they weren’t carbon copies of each other. That would be kind of boring.

“Who’re Vic and Izzy?” Mack asked when he returned to the den, Fitz and Kora in tow. Elena was nowhere to be found, but Bobbi expected she’d turn up eventually.

“Bobbi’s boyfriend’s parents.” Melinda gave him a look Bobbi couldn’t quite decipher, but guessed to mean something along the lines of don’t you dare start teasing the foster child about her boyfriend, Alphonso. Mack seemed suitably chastised and just nodded before returning to his seat.

“Are we playing Monopoly?” Elena asked when she appeared back in the entrance of the den. She shook her hands back and forth to shake water off of them. That at least explained where she’d been (the bathroom) but not why she was asking about Monopoly.

“We play board games together every Saturday,” Phil explained under his breath when he noticed Bobbi’s confusion. “Winner gets to pick the game the next week. Fitz won the Battleship tournament we had two weeks ago and he loves Monopoly.”

How did Phil keep track of the board games all his kids liked? Bobbi couldn’t even remember her own favorite board game, let alone four other peoples’. 

“I cede my winner’s pick to Bobbi,” Fitz said sagely.

“That’s really not -”

“There are no take-backsies in cession!” Daisy interrupted. “Come on, Bobbi, I’ll show you the game closet.”

Bobbi stood slowly, glancing back over her shoulder to Phil and Melinda. Phil nodded encouragingly and Bobbi turned back around to follow Daisy to the aptly-named game closet. When she’d walked past the door earlier in the week Bobbi assumed it was cleaning supply storage or something, but the closet was absolutely packed with games.

“These are the ones that we can play with eight.” Daisy pointed at the shelf at the bottom of the closet.

“We can just do Monopoly,” Bobbi said, not bothering to look at the other games. At least she knew how to play Monopoly; the same couldn’t be said of most other board games, and she couldn’t imagine something more embarrassing than needing her foster family to explain to her a board game most people started playing when they were in middle school.

“Are you sure? Fitz will be fine no matter what you choose, I promise.”

“Yeah.” Bobbi pulled the box off the shelf.

Daisy nodded and helped Bobbi put the few boxes that had been jumbled around back in order before they returned to the den and the waiting Coulson family.

---

Bobbi was halfway through her biology reading when someone knocked on the door to her bedroom. “Come in,” she said, already bracing for bad news. Phil and Melinda had probably decided that after how awkward she had been with Mack it was for the better if she went to a different home - one without a bunch of other kids. 

Daisy came through the door instead, closing it gently behind her. Bobbi’s shoulders tensed. She was hoping this wouldn’t be a closed-door kind of conversation.

“Can I sit?” Daisy asked, pointing to the foot of Bobbi’s bed. Bobbi nodded, pulling her notebook and textbook closer to her so there would be more room for Daisy on the bed.

“Mack really liked you,” Daisy offered when she climbed up, folding herself into a cross-legged position.

“That’s just because I gave him a ton of Monopoly money,” Bobbi said dismissively. She had been the first one out of the Monopoly game thanks to a combination of bad luck and unwillingness to barter with the rest of the family members. She’d also never played Monopoly with so many people, and it was much more cutthroat than the games she played with the Hartley family.

“No it’s not,” Daisy insisted. “He said that Cap really liked you, and we should trust dogs when they tell us things.”

“He likes me because your dog likes me,” Bobbi repeated flatly. Being liked because of a dog’s opinion almost stung worse than being disliked.

“No!” Daisy squeaked. “I mean, yes, but also because he thought it was really nice of you to pick a game you knew Fitz liked. And because you weren’t a sore loser.”

Bobbi didn’t bother explaining that she hadn’t picked Monopoly out of kindness to Fitz, and hadn’t made a fuss about losing because it was mostly her own fault. Instead she shrugged noncommittally, fiddling with her pencil.

“I just wanted to tell you since you seemed pretty bummed at dinner,” Daisy said. “Mom and Dad would’ve asked him to wait longer to visit if they knew it was going to upset you.”

“I’m not upset,” Bobbi insisted. “I just - it’s your family time, okay? And I don’t want you all to feel like you can’t spend time with your family because of me.” In retrospect, her nerves from the morning were stupid. The worst that could happen was that she was sent back into the system and found a different family that would fit her better than this one. It wasn’t that the Coulsons weren’t a good family - they really, really were - but they just didn’t seem to be right for Bobbi. She didn’t eat dinner with her family, or watch movies with them, or play board games. She didn’t know how to be around a family like the Coulsons. It was just going to be awkward like this for the next nine months they stopped treating her like she belonged with them.

“But we want you to spend time with us, too. Or at least I do, and I know Mom and Dad do. If all of us at once is too much you can say so.”

“You don’t need to change anything because of me,” Bobbi said. “I want to go over to Hunter’s next weekend anyways, if your parents will let me.”

“You can invite him over here,” Daisy offered. “I’d like to meet him.”

“Maybe.” Bobbi looked down at her notebook to avoid the earnestness in Daisy’s eyes. She didn’t know how to explain how important Hunter was - and also how good he was at reading her. If he came over, he’d be able to tell just how little Bobbi felt like she belonged, and he’d feel even guiltier for being the one who put her there. 

“You don’t have to,” Daisy said eventually. “I’ll let you get back to your homework.”

Bobbi got the distinct feeling she’d disappointed Daisy when the other girl left the room, which didn’t help her feeling awful about the day. Even when she tried not to get in the way she’d found a way to screw up - and she still didn’t understand the Krebs cycle, either.

Chapter Text

“You ready to go, kiddo?” Phil asked.

Bobbi looked up from the homework she was doing at the kitchen table and nodded. Phil tossed the car keys to her and Bobbi caught them in one hand, ignoring her heart thumping loudly in her chest. She knew it wasn’t that big of a deal, but if she proved to Phil she was a responsible driver, then she wouldn’t have to spend her mornings on a crowded bus. The bus wasn’t bad, exactly, but Bobbi preferred her solitude - and being able to sleep in later if she wanted to.

“Melinda said Hunter’s parents taught you how to drive?” Phil asked as they made their way out to the car. It was an old Honda they’d bought solely for the purpose of teaching Daisy and Fitz how to drive, junky enough that it wouldn’t be a financial catastrophe if the car crashed but safe enough that Phil and Melinda would allow their children to drive in it.

“Yup,” Bobbi said, clicking the key fob to unlock the car and climbing into the driver’s seat. She barely fit — whoever had driven before her, probably Melinda, had much shorter legs — and Bobbi was relieved when she found the lever to let her slide the seat back to a comfortable position. She checked the mirrors, and only after she was satisfied that she could see everything decently did Bobbi turn on the car.

“My dad made me learn to drive in a minivan,” Phil confided from the passenger seat.

Bobbi wrinkled her nose. Driving was hard enough without adding the extra challenge of maneuvering a vehicle the size of a small semi.

“My thoughts exactly,” Phil laughed. “Ready?”

Bobbi nodded and hoped Phil couldn’t see the sweaty palmprints she was leaving on the steering wheel. She pulled out of the driveway and followed Phil’s directions out of the street and to the highway, following the speed limit impeccably and using her turn signal religiously even though there were few other cars out and about on a Sunday afternoon. Phil didn’t try to strike up conversation, which Bobbi appreciated. Even if she knew how to drive, and even considered herself a good driver, trying to hold a normal conversation with Phil when she was even more worried than usual about impressing him wasn’t her idea of a good time.

They took the highway down to the exit for Bobbi’s old school, and she tried not to think too much about how close she was to Hunter. Not seeing him for so long was difficult, and after the disaster that was Mack’s visit, all Bobbi really wanted was a hug and someone she knew and loved to tell her she was going to be okay.

She took a deep breath and forced her attention back to the road. She was going to be okay — she would keep telling herself that until she had someone else to remind her.

By the time they returned home Bobbi was fairly confident Phil was going to let her drive to school. He hadn’t looked like he feared for his life even once during their ride, which was more than Bobbi could say of some of her earlier driving experience with Izzy. She pulled back into the driveway and let her muscles relax. Iz would tell her it wasn’t good to be stressed all the time, and she was right, but it wasn’t like Bobbi could help that her life was a shitshow and even things she thought she knew, like driving, were now on shaky ground again.

“You wanna go inside?” Phil asked. Bobbi nodded silently. She had hoped the first words out of Phil’s mouth would be you passed, but she understood why he wouldn’t jump right into it. He was still trying to be more of a father than an instructor.

Bobbi situated herself at the kitchen table while Phil ran to his and Melinda’s bedroom to get something. What he was getting, Bobbi didn’t know.

“Here we go,” Phil said, sitting across from her and sliding a black leather wallet onto the table.

Bobbi furrowed her brows. “Why are you giving me this?”

“You need someplace to put your license, right?” Phil asked.

Bobbi nodded. She had planned on just sticking it in her backpack and trusting she wouldn’t ever need to present it to anyone else.

“Melinda and I have also been impressed by your responsibility, Bobbi,” Phil said. “More than one of your teachers has emailed Mr. Gonzales letting him now how well you’re adjusting and how hard you work in class. I know this situation isn’t ideal, but you’ve been doing very, very well.” Bobbi pressed her lips together. She didn’t think she was adjusting well at all, though that had more to do with her home life than her academic life. Her inability to fit in with the Coulsons didn’t seem to be going away anytime soon, so school was at least a time where she felt… kind of okay.

“Melinda and I have discussed it and we think it’s only fair that since you’re contributing around the house and doing well in school, we give you an allowance,” Phil continued. “With the other kids we deposit it into a bank account that they have access to via a debit card, but we didn’t think you’d like that idea as much.”

Bobbi shook her head.

“So, a wallet for cash,” Phil said, nudging it towards her. “That has your allowance for the last three weeks in it, and you can keep your driver’s license in there as well.”

“Thanks, Phil.” Bobbi picked up the wallet and opened it curiously.

Her jaw dropped. “I think you should double-check how much you put in here,” she said, holding it out for him to take back. There was no way he and Melinda had meant to put over a hundred dollars in the wallet.

“We give allowance based on the age of the child,” Phil said calmly, not reaching to take the wallet back. “Since you’re seventeen, your allowance is thirty-four dollars a week.”

Thirty-four dollars a week, times three weeks… Bobbi didn’t need to have aced her last calculus quiz to do that math. One hundred and two dollars! Her stomach rolled. When she had lived with her nana there wasn’t much extra money in their budget, and certainly not enough that Bobbi could expect a regular allowance. She got what she needed to survive, but it was always Hunter’s family she had had to rely on for more than survival. An extra hundred dollars was out of the question.

“Um - do I need to pay for gas in the car?” Bobbi blurted, too overwhelmed to have any other reaction.

“Melinda and I will handle that,” Phil said, smiling. “Just let us know when the tank is getting low and we’ll go with you to the gas station.”

“Awesome.” Bobbi took a deep breath and let it out, withdrawing her hand with the wallet from Phil and instead clutching it against her chest. “And. Um. Driving rules?”

Phil shook his head, and Bobbi could tell whether the gesture was meant to be fond or exasperated. “Ask us before going anywhere, obey curfew, and make sure your phone is with you and charged.”

“Can I go see Hunter on Friday?” Bobbi asked hopefully. She had a car, she had money she could spend on a date — she and Hunter could go somewhere and do something, and he wouldn’t have to pay for her!

“We were actually hoping you’d invite him over here for the weekend,” Phil said. “Like we’ve said, we know he’s a big part of your life and we’d like to meet him.”

“I can ask.” Bobbi hoped she didn’t sound as evasive as she felt.

“You’re not thrilled,” Phil guessed. “Why?”

“I know Mack didn’t like me,” Bobbi said in a rush. “Daisy said he did but I know he didn’t because you didn’t invite him over again this weekend.” She had spent her entire week at school dreading Saturday when Mack would come over, but the doorbell never rang. Everyone acted like it was normal, but Bobbi knew it wasn’t — and just as she feared, the Coulson family was changing their lives to fit around her when they really didn’t have to. Even worse, the anticipation of Mack’s visit had made her entirely forget to ask Phil and Melinda if she could go see Hunter. “And I don’t think Daisy likes me anymore either.” Since the previous Saturday, Daisy had been more distant than before, and Bobbi couldn’t help but feel like she had screwed up by saying she didn’t want to cut into the Coulsons’ family time.

“And I just… I want to be someplace everyone likes me,” Bobbi finished lamely.

“I’m sorry you feel that way, Bobbi,” Phil said softly. “If you want to go to Hunter’s this weekend, you’re more than welcome to. We can shelve him coming over here for a different time.”

“Thank you.” Bobbi turned the wallet over in her hands. “And I’m sorry too.”

“What for?” Phil asked, frowning.

Being an inconvenience. Taking you away from your son. Making your daughter feel bad. Stealing your money. Existing.

Instead of saying anything running through her head, Bobbi just shrugged. “I just know having a foster kid is a lot of work.”

“Yes, but it’s work we signed up to do.” Phil’s voice was oddly gentle, and Bobbi avoided meeting his eyes. “If we weren’t prepared to do this we would’ve have said yes when the agency called.”

“I guess.”

“Why don’t you finish your homework before dinner?” Phil suggested, obviously sensing Bobbi’s reticence to discuss the topic further. “I’ll let Daisy know she can drive with you to school tomorrow morning if she wants.”

Bobbi nodded, returning her attention to the pile of textbooks she had left on the table before Phil took her on her driving test (slash observation, but it was obviously a test). She had finished most of her work, but it was important not to get too far behind or she would drown.

---

“Morning,” Anne greeted when Bobbi took her seat in biology on Monday morning.

“Morning,” Bobbi replied with a smile. “How was your weekend?”

“Same old, same old. I finally finished reading that book for English.”

“What did you think of the ending?” Bobbi asked as she began unpacking her bag. “I think Nathan got what was coming to him, but that might be a little… mean?” The book they’d just finished, The Poisonwood Bible, featured a host of characters that ranged from well-meaning but misguided to downright asshole, and Nathan Price had fallen solidly on the asshole end of the spectrum. Bobbi hadn’t felt bad when he died.

“I think we’re supposed to think he got what’s coming to him.” Anne grinned. “Because he totally did. I cheered.”

Bobbi laughed. “As long as I’m not a bad person for thinking it, I’m good.”

“If you’re a bad person, then I’m one too,” Anne declared. “Maybe Mrs. Lewis will tell us all about how we’re morally corrupt or something.”

“I look forward to it,” Bobbi said dryly.

“Hey Bobbi,” Anne said a minute later when they had both gotten everything prepared to start class after the late bell. “Would you be interested in doing Science Olympiad with me?”

“I don’t know what that is,” Bobbi admitted. She knew Anne went to Science Olympiad every Tuesday and Thursday after school, since those days they didn’t go out to the bus together, but she’d never heard of it before and was a bit too afraid to ask.

“It’s a competition for science and math,” Anne explained. “My mom calls it sports for nerds. But basically there’s a bunch of events where we answer questions about different science and math fields. We get points for being the quickest to solve the problems, and the team with the most points wins.”

“And you want me to join because…?”

“Because you’re my friend and I like spending time with you?” Anne asked, confused. “Do I need another reason?”

“No,” Bobbi said, staring at her desk. Why couldn’t she talk to people without upsetting them this week? “Sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry,” Anne said. “I may or may not have the ulterior motive of wanting to crush The Academy at regionals, and you’re the only person I know who’s better at biology than the girl on their team.”

Bobbi snorted. “I’m just a pawn to you?”

“A pawn who I happen to like spending time with a lot.” Anne nudged Bobbi’s shoulder with hers. “Don’t be so serious, okay? I promise, it’s more about wanting an excuse to hang out more than because I want to win.”

“You’re just preying on my competitive side.”

Anne rolled her eyes fondly. “It’s not my fault you and Tomas get into debates constantly and I noticed you like to win them.”

“Not constantly,” Bobbi said. It had only been two weeks since she came to the new school, and even less time than that since she’d actually been comfortable disagreeing with one of Anne’s friends in front of her… though granted, once she’d started it’d been really difficult to stop. She and Tomas saw the world very differently, but unlike most people, Tomas wasn’t an ass about it. She could debate with him without feeling like he was talking down to her, which was a welcome change after some other debates Bobbi had had.

“So is that a yes?” Anne asked.

Bobbi sighed. “I’d have to talk to my foster parents. And they might need to talk to my case worker and GAL.”

“GAL?” Anne repeated.

“Guardian ad litem,” Bobbi said. Realizing that term didn’t offer any further clarification to someone who wasn’t already familiar with the system, she continued on. “They’re someone assigned to my foster care case whose job it is to investigate everything that’s happening and make sure that I end up with what’s best for me.” She glanced around to see if anyone was eavesdropping — predictably, they weren’t — before continuing. “It’s kind of like… my case worker’s job is to make sure that I’m safe while I’m in foster care, and my GAL’s job is to make sure I’m safe with whatever happens next. They talk to the court about how I'm feeling and what they think is best for me. They do more work in cases that involve reunification, I think.” Bobbi hadn't even met her GAL yet this time around.

“And they get a say in whether or not you can do after school stuff?”

“Everyone gets a say in what I can do,” Bobbi sighed. “Except me, sometimes.”

“That blows.”

“It does.”

“If you can’t that’s okay,” Anne said after an awkward pause.

“I want to,” Bobbi assured her. “It’s just… complicated.”

“Would it be weird if I looked up stuff about the foster system?” Anne asked. “I want to know what you’re talking about when you say these things but it also feels kind of invasive.”

“Go for it.”

Anne pulled out her planner and scribbled something down right as the late bell rang. Bobbi picked up her pencil as Dr. Cho made her way to the front of the class, beginning her presentation almost immediately. It was a good distracting from the strange, cramping sensation in Bobbi’s chest that felt like her heart couldn’t decide whether or not it should beat faster.

Bobbi did not like unpredictable feelings whatsoever.

---

“Sorry!” Daisy panted as she jogged up to the car, backpack swinging on her shoulders. “I forgot you drove and almost got onto the bus.”

“You’re good,” Bobbi said, unlocking the car and swinging into the driver’s seat. She didn’t want to admit that she had started panicking when Daisy didn’t answer her second text asking where she was; Phil and Melinda would’ve been pissed if she managed to lose their daughter. Daisy would’ve gotten home eventually, since she was on the bus and all, but it wouldn’t have been fun worrying until she did.

Daisy climbed into the passenger seat, accepting Bobbi’s backpack to put on the floor by her feet. Since Daisy had run late, now they were stuck in a line of cars all vying to get out of the school parking lot. The buses would be pulling out soon, too, which was only going to make it more of a mess.

Bobbi sighed. Driving to school that morning had gone so well, but she should’ve expected her good luck couldn’t last even one day.

“Thanks for driving,” Daisy said as they inched forward towards the parking lot exit. “I forgot to say so this morning.”

“It’s not a big deal.”

Daisy shifted in her seat. “I… wanted to say I was sorry, too.”

“What for?” Bobbi asked, glancing in the rear-view to make sure the guy in the Jeep behind them wasn’t about to rear-end them.

“Making you think I don’t like you.”

Bobbi slumped. “Phil talked to you.”

“He didn’t say anything specifically, but he called all of us together for a family meeting when you were on Cap’s walk,” Daisy said. “He just gave us a friendly reminder that this transition is a lot for you and it’s our job to make you feel welcome, and I extrapolated.”

“It’s fine.”

“You keep saying that, but I think you’re lying.”

“I mean, nothing’s been fine since my parents died, but it’s not like I can fix it, right?” Bobbi asked, easing off the brake and letting the car crawl forward a few feet. She couldn’t wait to be out of the parking lot and onto the highway. “So I just say it is fine, and eventually it will be.”

“I guess.” Daisy didn’t sound convinced.

“I don’t want you to feel like you have to like me just because I’m living in your house for now,” Bobbi said. “It’s fine if you don’t.”

“It’s not that!” Daisy threw up her hands. “It’s that you don’t seem to believe me when I say I do like you! Or that other people like you!”

Maybe I’ve been lied to too many times.

“Sorry,” Bobbi ground out instead of saying what was on her mind. She was doing a lot of that these days. At least with her nana she never had to pretend about what she was feeling; her nana couldn’t even remember if Bobbi sassed her.

“I don’t want you to apologize,” Daisy sighed. “I just wish I could make you believe me.”

“Yeah,” Bobbi sighed as she finally pulled out of the parking lot. “Me too.”

Chapter Text

Ding-dong.

Bobbi stood on the front steps of the Hartley household, practically vibrating with excitement. She’d been looking forward to getting to see Hunter all week; the day was even better because everyone on her case team agreed Science Olympiad was a great way to spend her free time, so from now on she’d get to spend more time with Anne outside of school. It also meant Daisy went home on the bus twice a week, but she’d insisted it was fine if staying after school made Bobbi happy.

And it would make Bobbi happy. At least, she hoped it would.

Not as happy as she was when the door opened, though.

“Hi, love.”

Bobbi threw herself into Hunter’s arms without thinking, and he stumbled back more than a few paces to catch her. When he steadied them both he wrapped his arms around her waist, nuzzling into her hair as Bobbi pressed her face into his neck. Hunter was familiar, Hunter was home, and it had been far too long since she’d gotten to see him.

“Hi,” Bobbi mumbled, voice muffled against his skin.

Hunter pulled her back gently from him so he could look her in the eyes. “You look good.”

“You have a beard,” Bobbi fired back, running a hand over his stubbly chin.

“It’s to hide my baby face,” Hunter said, grinning.

“I like your baby face,” Bobbi retorted. “It’s charming.”

“You don’t think my roguish stubble is charming?” Hunter asked, covering her hand with his. “I’m hurt, Bob.”

“It’s just different,” she managed, ignoring the tightness in her throat. Everything was different. She wanted Hunter the same. And Hunter was the same — he just happened to be trying something new. With his face. His face that she loved.

“My mums were hoping you would tell me to shave it,” Hunter said as Bobbi continued smoothing her thumb along the line of his cheekbone. “So it’s alright if you hate it.”

“I don’t hate it,” she said automatically. “I just…”

“Hate it,” Hunter finished when she couldn’t find another another description. “It’s okay. I’ll shave tomorrow.”

“Don’t,” Bobbi insisted. “If you like it, then keep it. I’ll get used to it.”

“Maybe you should wait until after you’ve kissed me to make that declaration,” Hunter said. “Idaho told me beard kisses feel weird.”

Bobbi knew an invitation when she heard one, and she leaned in to peck Hunter on the lips. A cursory peck wasn’t enough, of course, and Hunter wrapped his arms around her waist as she continued to kiss him. It was certainly an unfamiliar sensation, but not one Bobbi would immediately qualify as bad, or even weird. Just different.

“Ahem.”

Bobbi pulled back from Hunter, cheeks burning. “Hi, Iz.”

“I know you two are teenagers, but can we consider limiting the PDA to places that aren’t the foyer?” Izzy asked, eyes sparkling with amusement.

“Sorry, mum,” Hunter said sheepishly.

“Just consider what you want your poor, fragile mother to see,” Izzy said, ruffling Hunter’s hair when she was close enough to reach him.

“I don’t have a fragile mother,” Hunter muttered as Izzy pulled Bobbi into a hug.

“Hush and let me hug my favorite child.”

“Mum!”

“My favorite daughter,” Izzy amended, squeezing Bobbi tighter. “How have you been?” Izzy asked, holding Bobbi at arm’s length to inspect her. She seemed to like what she saw — or at least not hate it — because she gave a thoughtful nod to herself after she had finished looking Bobbi up and down.

“I’ve been okay,” Bobbi said. “The Coulsons are nice, I guess.”

“That’s not exactly a rave review,” Izzy said. “Come on, we have dinner ready.”

Bobbi followed Iz into the kitchen, Hunter trailing behind both of them. Vic and Idaho had been deep in conversation, but they stopped when she appeared in the doorway.

“Oh good, she’s alive,” Idaho deadpanned. Vic and Izzy glared at him simultaneously, and he rolled his eyes. “Come on. We all know Bobbi was fine.”

“So why don’t you go three weeks without seeing your boyfriend?” Hunter snapped.

“Cool it,” Izzy said sternly. “Nobody’s going three weeks without seeing anybody anymore, okay?”

Bobbi wanted to remind Izzy she couldn’t make that promise, but instead she just slid into her seat at the table. She resisted the urge to slump forward and revel in how she belonged here with the Hartley family. She had a spot at their table and she had a place in their lives; she wasn’t pushing anyone out by stepping in. She grabbed Hunter’s hand beneath the table and squeezed. He squeezed back but didn’t look over and let the rest of his family know something was wrong. Bobbi didn’t need him to look over, though — he said everything he needed to with his hands.

“So, the Coulsons are nice, you guess,” Izzy said as she brought dinner (salmon and asparagus) over to the table. “Anything else we should know about them?”

“They have five other kids, all adopted. Only three live in the house. Daisy’s two years younger than me, Fitz is two months younger than her, and Kora is three years younger than him.” Bobbi paused. “And they have a dog. His name is Cap.” Cap was proving to be the only one in the Coulson family who Bobbi could consistently understand. He was a dog, after all — he liked going on walks, he liked eating his kibble, and he loved tearing up whatever toy he could get his mouth around. It didn’t get much simpler than that.

Vic nodded thoughtfully as she scooped food onto her plate.

“Please don’t run background checks on them,” Bobbi added.

“Please don’t — I’m wounded, Bobbi,” Vic said.

“She just knows you too well,” Hunter said, letting go of Bobbi’s hand beneath the table so he could serve both of them dinner.

“I know the county wouldn’t place you with anyone you weren’t safe with,” Vic said, “but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to know more about them.”

“I’m sure I could give them your phone numbers,” Bobbi offered. Phil and Melinda would probably like that — they’d see it as a sign of her opening up. Which it would be, now that Bobbi was thinking of it. Vic and Izzy knew more about her than probably any other adult on the planet, and giving her foster parents unfettered access to them meant they could potentially learn a lot about her. Bobbi didn’t expect Vic or Izzy would intentionally try to violate her privacy, but there were some things about her history and about Hunter they’d probably share.

“If you want to,” Izzy said, obviously sensing Bobbi’s hesitance.

“They keep asking me to meet Hunter, too,” Bobbi added, picking at her salmon with her fork.

“That’s good, isn’t it?” Izzy asked encouragingly.

Bobbi chewed on her lip. “What if…” Her throat closed up around the words. “I just don’t want them to say I can’t see him.”

“If they do that I’ll steal you away in the middle of the night!”

“Idaho,” Izzy chastised. “We can’t kidnap Bobbi.”

“Mum,” Hunter said, desperate. Bobbi reached back under the table to put a hand on his knee. She hadn’t meant to upset him, but she also didn’t want to be holding onto that fear forever.

“We don’t need to worry about something that hasn’t happened yet,” Vic asserted calmly. “Bobbi, they probably just want to meet him so they know who you’re spending time with. You’re seventeen, and I’d hope that anyone who has five children knows better than to micromanage every detail of their child’s life. We know that Hunter isn’t a bad influence on you, and they’ll see that too.”

“And if they don’t, my offer still stands,” Idaho added.

“Again I have to remind you that you cannot kidnap Bobbi,” Izzy sighed. “You are not above the law, mister.”

“I’m twenty!”

“Twenty year olds do not have legal immunity, Idaho,” Vic said in a tone that implied they had somehow had this conversation several times before. Apparently Bobbi had missed some sort of anti-law phase in Idaho’s life, probably precipitated by him going to college; that seemed like the sort of thing Idaho would get into.

Idaho let out a long-suffering sigh. “Fine. But don’t pretend I’m not the only one willing to break the law for Bobbi.”

“We’re not kidnapping her,” Izzy repeated for a third time. “Bobbi, why don’t you arrange for the Coulsons to meet Hunter sometime soon, and then you can stop worrying about this and my son can stop threatening to break the law?”

“Okay,” Bobbi said. She had wanted to put off the meeting as long as possible in case the Coulsons did disapprove of Hunter, among other reasons, but she trusted Izzy and Vic’s guidance. If they thought it was going to be okay, it probably was. Plus, it would make their lives easier once Idaho stopped threatening to steal her in the night.

“Maybe after dinner we can go on a walk?” Hunter suggested. “Just the two of us.”

“Hunter and Bobbi, sitting in a tree,” Idaho sang.

“Idaho Rafael Hartley, so help me God —”

“Sorry mum,” Idaho said, blanching. He knew better than to cross his mothers when they full-named him.

“We’re not going to sit in a tree,” Hunter muttered under his breath. “It’s called a walk, not a sit.”

Bobbi had quite a few memories of not walking on her walks with Hunter, but now wouldn’t be the best time to mention them. Instead she squeezed his knee again, heart warming at the smile he gave her in response.

Their dinner conversation turned away from Bobbi and her foster family and towards all of the things she had missed in the three weeks she hadn’t been over to the Hartley home. Hunter had kept her mostly apprised of the going-ons in his life, but there were a few things he hadn’t told her about, or been sparse on the details.

When they had finished eating Hunter took his and Bobbi’s plates to the sink, and was halfway through turning on the water to wash them when Izzy gave him a good-natured pat on the shoulder.

“You two can go. I’ll get the dishes.”

“Thank!” Hunter pressed a quick kiss to Iz’s cheek before bounding over to Bobbi. She accepted his hand as she climbed out of her chair, allowing him to practically pull her to the door.

It was late enough in the year that the sun was already setting as they walked down Hunter’s street, but they were in a safe area and Hunter was with her so Bobbi didn’t think much of the darkness.

“Homecoming is next weekend,” Hunter said over the sound of the chirping crickets. “Do you think your foster parents would let you go?”

“Maybe,” Bobbi said. “Depends who’s asking.”

“I’m asking.” Hunter squeezed her hand. “But if you don’t think they’ll say yes, or you can’t go, it’s not that big of a deal.”

“I’d like to go to homecoming with you.” Bobbi squeezed Hunter’s hand in return. It was their senior year, and while Bobbi didn’t have any delusions that her senior year would be perfect, she at least wanted to go to homecoming with her boyfriend. She didn’t know when her new school’s homecoming was — it was possible it had already happened and she just hadn’t paid enough attention to realize it.

“I can cover your ticket and pick you up and everything,” Hunter said earnestly. “As long as they say yes.”

“I’ll ask them when I get home,” Bobbi promised.

“And they’ll say yes?” Hunter asked, hopeful.

“I hope so.”

---

Bobbi knocked on the door of Daisy’s room. She was already chewing on her lip, betraying her nerves (though she doubted Daisy knew that was what it meant). Daisy opened the door with a huff, but instantly softened when she saw it was Bobbi standing on the other side.

“Yeah?” Daisy asked cautiously.

“I’m going to the mall to look for a homecoming dress. You wanna come?”

“Now?”

“If you’re in the middle of something I can wait…?”

“No, just give me a minute to save my project and I can go. Meet you upstairs?”

Bobbi nodded and retreated out of the basement. She already had her wallet securely in the pocket of her sweatshirt, but she grabbed the keys to the car as she waited for Daisy.

It had been surprisingly easy to get Phil and Melinda to agree to let her go to homecoming with Hunter; their only condition was she get ready at their house and Hunter came in to take pictures with her. It was probably intended to be a sneaky way to get to meet him, but since Bobbi had already decided to introduce her boyfriend to the Coulsons eventually she considered it more than a fair deal. Melinda had even given her an extra fifty dollars for her dress, since according to her dresses were still clothing and it wasn’t fair to make Bobbi spend her allowance on clothes. Bobbi didn’t intend to spend fifty dollars on a dress, but she had learned better than to argue with Melinda. She and Phil were especially adamant about disputes about money, which Bobbi didn’t understand but had been forced to accept.

Bobbi had worried getting Daisy to go dress shopping with her would be less easy, but she was pleasantly surprised with how quickly her foster sister had agreed. Things were still tense between them since their conversation in the car, but this was the best olive branch Bobbi could offer and she was glad Daisy had accepted it.

When Daisy appeared out of the basement they walked wordlessly to the car together, and they were halfway to the mall before Daisy broke the silence.

“Do you know what kind of dress you want?”

Bobbi shrugged. “I haven’t really been thinking about it for long.”

“Well then you should start thinking about prom now too,” Daisy said seriously. “Because those dresses take forever to find.”

“Any suggestions?” Bobbi asked, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel as she waited at a stoplight. “It may shock you to learn I don’t spend a lot of time fantasizing about dresses in my free time.”

“Really?” Daisy asked, sounding genuinely shocked. “When I first went into care I spent all my time imagining I was Cinderella and thinking about all the dresses I would wear to a ball if I was invited.”

Bobbi glanced over. “How old were you?”

“Four,” Daisy admitted. “I guess you’re a little old for that.”

“Yeah,” Bobbi sighed. By the time she’d gotten into foster care she had been old enough to realize fairy tales weren’t true, and very rarely did life have a happily ever after. She had only been eleven, but having your parents go out one night and never come home tended to squash any childlike optimism.

“You still get to go to a fancy dance, though,” Daisy said. “With Prince Charming.”

Bobbi snorted. “I’m going to tell Hunter you called him Prince Charming.”

“Is he not charming?”

“Oh, he is,” Bobbi said, shaking her head as she thought back to the previous night and their conversation about his beard. “But people don’t tend to tell him that. Feeds his ego.” She fired a quick smile in Daisy’s direction so the younger girl knew she was teasing. Hunter did have a bit of an ego, but what teenage boy didn’t? Besides, Bobbi thought it was funny when he got cocky.

“How’d you meet him?” Daisy asked.

“School.” Bobbi bit her lip. “And he lived down the street from my aunt, so when I moved in with her we saw a lot of each other.”

“You lived with your aunt?”

“I went into foster care right after my parents died, but then I went into kinship with her for a while.” Bobbi cleared her throat. “And when she died, back into foster care until my nana agreed to take me.”

“I didn’t realize you’d gone into kinship twice,” Daisy said softly.

“I don’t like to talk about it.” Kinship would’ve been better than the foster care system if it hadn’t ended with being abandoned again. Bobbi knew it wasn’t fair to think of her Aunt Tess dying as being abandoned, but it had felt that way when she was fourteen and finally beginning to trust an adult again. In reality it was just shit luck, just like everything else had been.

They were quiet again until Bobbi pulled into the mall’s parking lot. Bobbi checked one last time that she had her wallet before they headed inside.

“I feel like I keep sticking my foot in my mouth when we talk,” Daisy blurted out as they walked through the main entrance. “And I’m sorry. I know that you’re trying and I keep messing it up.”

Bobbi halted. “Are you sure I’m not the one messing it up?” She was the one who was prickly and guarded and difficult to get along with. Daisy was just a normal human who was faced with Bobbi’s mess and doing her best to put up with it.

“How about we just say we’re both messing it up?” Daisy suggested. “We can go back to when we were bringing each other candy and hugging.”

“We can,” Bobbi said cautiously. It would be nice not to have to wait to see Hunter or the rest of the Hartley family again every time she wanted a hug.

“Awesome,” Daisy said, beginning to walk again. “Now, let’s find you a dress.”

Daisy was more familiar with the mall than Bobbi was, since Bobbi could count the other times she had been there on one hand. She took the lead, pointing out all the different stores that might possibly have what Bobbi wanted and the minute differences between them. Eventually they decided to begin with a store that was in the middle of the road — not too classy and likely to have a semi-formal dress in Bobbi’s price range.

“Do you actually like blue, or did Mom just pick up on that the first time you went shopping and not let go of it?” Daisy asked as they walked into the store. The salespeople were busy helping other customers, which relaxed Bobbi; she didn’t like it when she had to talk to people when she was shopping.

“I like blue,” Bobbi confirmed. “And Hunter likes blue.”

“Please tell me you know you don’t have to wear a color just because your boyfriend likes it,” Daisy said.

“Oh, I know,” Bobbi assured her as they began looking through the racks together. “But if we both like it, why not?”

“I just wanted to make sure you weren’t settling,” Daisy said sagely.

“Nope, no settling.” Bobbi paused. “What do you think of purple?”

“On you?” Daisy asked. Bobbi nodded. “I think it would look nice with your hair.”

Bobbi nodded again thoughtfully, plucking a purple dress from the rack. She and Daisy found a few more options as they chatted. Daisy continued asking probing questions about Hunter that Bobbi did her best to answer, even if the honesty was a little strange. She continued asking her own questions about dress opinions in between Daisy’s interrogation, and they ended up with half a dozen choices by the time Bobbi was ready to try them on.

“I’ll meet you in the back,” Daisy promised. “There’s one more I just saw that I want to grab.”

Bobbi was already in the first dress — the purple one — when Daisy came back to the dressing rooms.

“I don’t think I like this one,” Bobbi said as she exited the dressing room. It was… fine, but didn’t make her feel much of anything. If this was the one homecoming she got, she wanted a dress that wowed her.

“Try this one on next,” Daisy said, handing Bobbi the dress she had just found. Bobbi nodded, not bothering to look at the dress before she shut the changing room door behind her. She stripped out of the purple dress quickly before sliding the dress Daisy had just given her on.

Bobbi froze when she caught sight of herself in the mirror. The bodice of the dress was nude and covered in metallic gold flowers and vines that climbed across her chest and around her back. The attached skirt was a soft powder blue that faded to white near the hem; some of the golden flowers cascaded down the skirt as well, creating cohesion between the two parts of the dress. The skirt hit just above her knees, the perfect length for twirling, and Bobbi gave into the urge and spun once to let the dress fan out around her. The only potential problem was that the dress was strapless and Bobbi couldn’t remember if she had any strapless bras that fit still. That could be fixed with a visit to another store, though.

Bobbi opened the door to the changing room, smile aching at her cheeks. “I really like this one, Dais.”

Daisy looked up from her phone and her jaw dropped. “You look so pretty,” she breathed. “I knew it would look good, but… wow.”

Bobbi gave another giddy spin, unable to contain her excitement.

“Are you going to try on the others?” Daisy asked.

“I don’t think so.” Bobbi couldn’t imagine liking any of the other dresses nearly as much as this one. The light blue color also reminded her of Cinderella’s dress, and with that and Daisy’s comments about Hunter being Prince Charming… she couldn’t let it go.

“Can I take a picture for Mom?” Daisy asked, holding up her phone. Bobbi nodded, tucking her hair behind her ears and smiling shyly at the camera. Daisy snapped a few pictures before nodding that she was good to go, and Bobbi went back into the changing room to put her clothes back on.

She and Daisy put the dresses Bobbi hadn’t chosen onto the rack near the dressing room before going to the front to pay. Bobbi handed over the fifty-dollar bill Melinda had given her, bouncing on the tips of her toes until the receipt and the dress were safely in her hands. It was hers now.

“Mom sent you a message,” Daisy said as they walked out of the store, holding her phone out for Bobbi to see.

[Melinda]: Tell her she looks beautiful.

Bobbi’s heart slammed into her sternum. She looked beautiful. Melinda liked her dress!

“Hunter’s going to choke on his spit when he sees you,” Daisy giggled. “It’s gonna be so great!”

“Can we stop by Aerie really quick?” Bobbi asked. “I need to get a bra that won’t show.”

“Save the receipt and Mom will pay you back for it,” Daisy advised. “And then can we get ice cream? There’s place upstairs that does the rolled ice cream thing and I’ve been dying to try it.”

“Yeah, we can get ice cream.” Bobbi grinned. “I have to make your trip worthwhile, right?”

“It would’ve been worthwhile either way,” Daisy said, pressing her shoulder against Bobbi’s as they walked. “I got to spend time with you.”

Chapter Text

“Melinda?” Bobbi asked, poking her head into the kitchen. “My phone’s not working.”

Bobbi had gotten used to her routine of waking up and responding to her good morning text from Hunter before taking her shower and getting ready for the school day. When she’d woken up that morning, though, there was no text — even when she got out of the shower. She’d tried to send Hunter a text to make sure he was okay, but instead of getting an answer, she’d gotten a message about how her phone was no longer in service.

“Did the battery die?” Melinda asked, removing the tea bag from her morning tea.

“No, it just says no service.” Bobbi resisted the urge to chew on her lip, nerves settling low in her stomach. Why would her phone suddenly go out of service, unless —

Bobbi sighed. “Never mind.”

“Never mind?” Melinda repeated. “Are you getting service again?”

“No, I…” Bobbi sighed again, heavier. “My nana probably forgot to pay the phone bill.” Again. Bobbi had tried to set all of the bills to auto pay, but she hadn’t had the password to the account for their phone and Internet provider. She had set an alarm on her phone calendar to reminder her to tell her nana to pay it, but she’d deleted that when she’d come to live with the Coulsons, since she wasn’t seeing her nana at all. She hadn’t thought about her phone still being connected to the account — or that this meant she had officially spent a month at the Coulsons’ house.

Melinda’s brow furrowed and an unrecognizable expression crossed her face. “Will you be okay without your phone for the day?”

The nerves in Bobbi’s stomach squirmed, but she ignored them. “I guess.”

“Would it help if I called Izzy so Hunter knows why you’re not answering him?” Melinda asked.

Bobbi stopped resisting the urge to chew on her lip, catching it between her teeth and worrying around before she responded. “Yeah.”

“If you run into any problems at school, find Daisy and ask her if you can use her phone, okay?”

Bobbi nodded. She didn’t have Science Olympiad on account of it being a Monday morning, so she would have Daisy with her on both the trip to school and the one home; that was the only time Bobbi could see being in a serious, life-threatening, need a phone emergency. Any time there was an emergency at school the office would call the Coulsons on her behalf. And it was only one day… Bobbi hoped.

---

There was no emergency — not that Bobbi expected one — and when she came home from school on Monday, Melinda handed her phone back. She explained that she had transferred Bobbi onto the Coulson’s family plan in a curt way that made Bobbi feel like she had probably done something wrong by bringing it up. She would’ve felt worse about the situation if she hadn’t spent the rest of the week engrossed in her phone, texting Hunter about their homecoming plans.

Izzy and Vic were understandably disappointed that homecoming preparations weren’t going to be taking place at their home, but an invitation to tag along with Hunter had brightened them considerably. Bobbi tried not to think about how she was going to manage the introductions between Hunter’s family and her foster family, but it became inevitable when Hunter sent her a message on Saturday evening that he was leaving his house to come pick her up.

Bobbi had already changed into her dress and done a light, natural-looking makeup look (with Daisy’s supervision). She had considered doing something fancier with her hair, but her foster sister had insisted that Bobbi’s natural loose waves complemented the gold and blue of her dress more than any fancy up-do could’ve. With nothing left preparation-wise to distract her, Bobbi had taken to pacing the length of the foyer. She didn’t bother pretending she wasn’t nervous; everyone knew she was. And everyone really meant everyone — even Fitz had taken a break from his video game to wait in the foyer for Hunter to arrive.

She nearly jumped out of her skin when the doorbell rang and rushed to open the door. Hunter stepped in first, and Bobbi barely noticed Izzy and Vic behind him. She had assumed Hunter would wear a button-up and some nice pants, like he had to every other event they’d attended together, but he was wearing a suit! With a tie! Someone had even gone through the care of matching the tie to her dress, which baffled Bobbi since she hadn’t sent any pictures of it to Hunter. If she had to guess, Melinda was in on it somehow, judging by the small smile she was giving at Bobbi’s bafflement.

“You look nice,” Bobbi finally managed to stutter out, still in shock. Hunter in a suit! It wasn’t something she’d every thought to imagine, but he was so handsome that Bobbi wanted to die a little bit. The scruff worked well with the suit, too — he almost looked like James Bond. He looked equally stunned by her in her dress, which felt silly since he had definitely seen her in dresses before — though never this specific dress, which Bobbi would admit was probably the nicest thing she’d ever worn.

“Um,” Hunter said, still unable to gather his thoughts.

Bobbi leaned in to kiss him, sparing him the embarrassment of being entirely tongue-tied in front of both of their families. He accepted it gratefully, though his face scrunched somewhat when she pulled back and left sticky lip gloss behind.

“Introductions?” Izzy prompted gently.

“Right.” Bobbi’s cheeks felt warmer than they had in a long time, and she slid her hand through Hunter’s to remind herself of why she was going through all of this mortification. “This is Hunter,” she said, perhaps a bit unnecessarily. “Tall one is Izzy, taller one is Vic,” she said, gesturing with her free hand to Hunter’s mothers.

“These are my foster parents, Phil and Melinda —” Phil waved and Melinda gave a small smile, “— and my foster siblings, Daisy, Fitz, and Kora.” The three Coulson siblings had all coalesced into one group when Hunter had come through the door, and they each gave some indication of which one they were (even if Fitz’s was only a small grunt, and would’ve probably been confusing if he wasn’t the only boy in the house).

“You kids ready for pictures?” Phil asked after the introductions had been made. “It should be light enough outside still that we can get a few good ones.”

Bobbi had never been more relieved that there wasn’t much foot traffic in the Coulsons’ neighborhood; she probably would’ve died of mortification if anyone had walked past while her foster parents and Hunter’s real parents ordered them around into different poses so they could get dozens (and dozens and dozens) of pictures. They took photos in the grass, under the oak tree in the front yard, on the front porch, and just about any other location that had a glimpse of sunlight.

“Can we get one together?” Daisy asked when it seemed the parents had finally exhausted every pose option for her and Hunter.

Bobbi nodded, wordlessly stepping away from Hunter and towards her foster sister. “If you make me do six different angles I might hurt someone,” Bobbi said under her breath. Daisy let out a surprisingly loud laugh that startled Bobbi into laughing herself. When they’d both collected themselves, Bobbi stepped closer to Daisy, wrapping her arm around the younger girl’s shoulders.

Daisy leaned into her, both of them smiling obediently when Phil dropped into his photographer’s kneel. They probably made an odd pair, Bobbi in her dress and shimmering golden flats she’d borrowed from Daisy and her foster sister in her sweatshirt and black jeans, but Bobbi didn’t care. It would be nice for Daisy to have a picture of them together when Bobbi eventually went her own way — and it was kind of nice for Bobbi to have pictures to take with people other than Hunter, too. She’d seen other girls take pictures with their siblings and friends in years past, but had never had someone she liked enough to do the same with. If Anne were here, Bobbi would’ve liked a photo of them together, too, even if Tomas would tease them both for it.

“Bobbi?” Kora asked shyly when she and Daisy were done with their pictures. “Can I have one?”

Bobbi’s heart melted in her chest. Kora was much shier than Daisy, and thanks to the larger age gap they didn’t spend as much time together. Still, if she wanted a picture, Bobbi wasn’t going to deny her.

It took them a minute to find a position that wasn’t awkward, since Bobbi was a full foot taller than Kora and couldn’t comfortably wrap her arm around her foster sister’s shoulders. Instead they settled for Bobbi standing behind Kora, her arms wrapped around the younger girl in a hug. It occurred to Bobbi as they stood there, frozen, that this was the closest she had probably ever been to Kora. She would need to ask Daisy if Kora also was a fan of hugs.

Phil took a few more photos before the time came that Bobbi and Hunter needed to be leaving for the dance. Hunter, who had spent the time Bobbi used taking pictures talking to Fitz, waved goodbye to the Coulson family before opening the passenger door of his car and helping Bobbi duck in. He settled in the driver’s side, letting out a breath when the door was closed and he was seated.

“Ready to run yet?” Bobbi teased. She knew meeting anyone’s family was a difficult task, but foster families were a different level of strangeness and awkwardness. Hunter wanted to make a good impression, but it was difficult when Bobbi still didn’t feel fully settled into the family herself.

“Not yet,” Hunter laughed, turning the key in the ignition. He did look markedly more relaxed once they were out of the Coulsons’ neighborhood and on their way to Hunter’s school.

“I like your foster siblings,” Hunter said carefully as he pulled onto the highway. “They seem nice.”

“Daisy and Kora are really sweet,” Bobbi said. “Fitz is… Fitz.” It wasn’t that she disliked her foster brother — just that he didn’t seem as interested in building a relationship with her as either of her foster sisters were. Which made sense, since it seemed he had everything he needed sibling-wise just between Mack and Daisy.

“He likes Manchester,” Hunter sniffed.

“Is that what you two were talking about?” Bobbi asked, laughing. She hadn’t been able to figure out what her boyfriend and foster brother would possibly have in common to entertain themselves for fifteen minutes, but that answer shouldn’t have surprised her. Hunter’s love of soccer — football — was well-documented. Idaho liked soccer, too, but he was more focused on the teams in Central and South America than he was the European league. She hadn’t known, however, that Fitz liked soccer; she had thought his only pastimes were engineering and video games.

“Yeah. He didn’t seem to realize I was British.” Hunter arched an eyebrow in askance.

“I forget that’s something people want to know about you,” Bobbi admitted. Hunter’s voice was just his voice, now; she had noticed the accent when they first met but now it hardly seemed noteworthy, because it was just another part of him.

Hunter nodded thoughtfully. “And your foster parents?” he asked after a minute.

“I think they were hoping to have more time to sit down and interrogate you,” Bobbi admitted. Most of their time had been spent taking pictures, and it was hard to interview someone when they needed to keep a smile frozen in place. She didn’t think it was bad her foster parents’ first impression of Hunter was him wearing a suit, though.

“Maybe next weekend,” Hunter said, though the grimace on his face betrayed his real feelings on the subject.

“Maybe,” Bobbi agreed, though she wasn’t looking forward to it any more than Hunter was. Maybe Fitz would put in a good word for Hunter… though if they disagreed on their taste in sports teams, maybe not.

Parking was in high demand when they arrived at the school, but Hunter managed to snag a spot that wasn’t too far from the front entrance. Bobbi didn’t mind the walking, especially since she hadn’t worn heels. Daisy’s shoes were surprisingly comfortable for a borrowed pair, and they didn’t pinch at all even when they made the trek across the parking lot.

Hunter produced their tickets from the inside of his suit jacket and they had no problem getting into the school. A rush of something spilled over Bobbi when she walked through the front doors. It wasn’t quite nostalgia, since she wasn’t fond of her old school, but it was overwhelming to be reminded of how much of her life she’d spent there — and how much of her life she’d had to leave behind because of her meeting with Mr. Gonzales in the front office.

She took Hunter’s hand, needing the comfort of something familiar and grounding. He didn’t comment on it, just wrapped his fingers around her with the same careful tenderness he did every time they held hands. It turned out to be a practical choice, too; as more and more students filtered into the building, the hallways on the way to the gymnasium where the actual dance was being held became more crowded, and Bobbi didn’t want to be separated from Hunter.

The lights in the gym were low and the music was just starting up. Only a few couples were on the dance floor, and Bobbi didn’t move to join them. She was fine being a wallflower, especially if Hunter was with her.

As far as Bobbi was concerned, spending time with Hunter was the point of homecoming — being with him was coming home more than returning to a school ever would be.

---

It was for the better that Bobbi’s expectations of what her senior homecoming dance would look like weren’t particularly high. The gym grew hotter and more humid as more and more people packed into it, and while she and Hunter spent the entire night waiting for a slow song to dance to, none came. They’d made a brief stop by the cafeteria, where there were snacks and some board games set out, but even the free candy couldn’t rescue what was otherwise a subpar night. At least the cafeteria was quiet enough that she and Hunter could have an actual conversation without yelling their throats raw.

Bobbi was grateful when the chaperones announced it was time to start leaving; she hadn’t wanted to ask to leave early (and she suspected Hunter hadn’t, either), but stepping out of the humid gym and into the cool night air was a relief — at least for the first five seconds. After the initial cooldown, it was obvious her dress wasn’t meant to be worn on an October night in Ohio. Hunter draped his suit jacket around her wordlessly when he saw her shiver, and Bobbi leaned into his side as they walked back to the car together.

“I’m sorry this wasn’t everything you wanted,” Hunter murmured, kissing the side of her head when they reached the car.

Bobbi bit back a comment about how nothing in her life had been what she wanted recently; being bitter about it wasn’t going to change anything, and worse, it would make Hunter feel bad.

“It’s not your fault,” Bobbi said when they were both in the car and buckled.

“It was a waste of a Saturday night,” Hunter insisted. “We could’ve done something a lot better with our time.”

Bobbi shrugged. Maybe that was true, but maybe it wasn’t. She couldn’t possibly know, and neither could Hunter. “The only thing that really sucked was no slow dance,” Bobbi said. The rest of it (the heat, the humidity, the flashing lights and pounding music and inappropriate dancing) was all par for the course for high school dances; not having a slow dance wasn’t. Bobbi didn’t need an excuse to slow dance with Hunter, but she definitely didn’t mind having one, either. She didn’t mind any excuse to get close to him, and she had been looking forward to having one tonight, especially after everything that had happened in the last month. Getting to see him and walk with him and talk with him had been one thing, but getting to hold him close and assure herself he wasn’t going to leave her.

Hunter nodded shortly, and Bobbi guessed his terseness had more to do with having the task of navigating out of the parking lot in the dark than any anger at her. She was proven correct when they got onto the highway again and Hunter reached his hand out for her. They rested their joined hands on the center console, and Bobbi relaxed as she watched the streetlights flick past them. Most of the houses were dark now, since it was after eleven o’clock, but the Coulsons’ outside light was on — and so it seemed was the light in the den.

“Thank you for taking me,” Bobbi said, leaning to press her lips to Hunter’s cheek. Even if the night hadn’t been everything they’d both hoped, they were still together. And Hunter had still worn a suit, which Bobbi was still trying to wrap her head around.

“One more thing before you go.” Hunter hopped out of the car when Bobbi did, fishing his phone out of his pocket. He didn’t explain himself — but when the music started, he didn’t need to.

“Hunter…” she said softly.

“I know it’s not the same as doing it at the school,” he said, setting his phone on the roof of his car, “but it’s something, isn’t it?”

Bobbi nodded, the lump in her throat making it impossible to explain she hadn’t been going to complain about dancing in the driveway not being the same. If anything, she liked this better. She didn’t have to make herself vulnerable in front of the whole school — just had to dance with Hunter, alone, by the light of the front porch lamp.

His jacket was still wrapped around her shoulders, but he pulled it off gently, setting it on the car beside the phone and wrapping her up close. His body heat was much better than the jacket, anyways. Hunter folded their hands together, his left in her right, and his other arm snaked around her waist. Bobbi fumbled her other hand onto his shoulder, her cold fingers clutching at the starchy fabric of his button up.

Hunter hummed along to the music, the sound vibrating in his chest. Bobbi dropped her head to his shoulder, letting him sway them both as he hummed along. The wind picked up and Bobbi shivered, goose bumps erupting across her skin. Hunter pulled her even closer and Bobbi let him. They were hand-in-hand, skin-to-skin, heart-to-heart, and she couldn’t imagine a better way to be. The song didn’t matter, even the dancing didn’t really matter — they were close enough for the first time in forever, and she wanted it to last.

“I love you,” Hunter murmured, barely louder than the wind in her ears. “I want you to remember that.”

“Of course I remember that,” Bobbi whispered back, squeezing their joined hands. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I just wanted you to know.” Hunter kissed the side of her head. “Even if your foster parents hated me, I’m not going to be chased away.”

“Good,” Bobbi said, nuzzling into his neck. “Because I still need you.”

“Sweetheart, you don’t need anyone.”

“You know that’s not true.” Bobbi liked everyone else to believe she was perfectly fine on her own, but Hunter… Hunter was allowed to know she needed him. Hunter was allowed to know just about everything about her, even the things she wouldn’t dare say to anyone else.

It took Bobbi far too long to realize the music had stopped, and she and Hunter were just standing in the driveway, holding each other.

“I should get inside,” Bobbi sighed. Phil and Melinda had extended her curfew for the night, but it probably was better not to push her luck with them.

“One more thing.”

“Hunter.” He’d already said that once.

“Christ, Bob, I just want a kiss,” he pouted.

Bobbi couldn’t help but smile. “I guess I can do that.”

She pulled away from him, tipping her chin down so her lips could press against his. The kiss was short and sweet, but still nice — the perfect way to end a not-so-perfect night.

“Love you too,” Bobbi said when she began walking up the driveway to the front door. “In case you forgot.”

“Never.” Hunter grinned.

Bobbi turned away from him to hop up the single step to the front porch, opening the door as quietly as she could manage. She toed off her shoes — which, remarkably, still didn’t hurt her feet even after a whole night of wear — and picked them up, intending to go upstairs with the same lack of noise. She halted when she walked by the den, though. Phil was still up.

“Hi,” she said softly, making a detour into the den. The television was on, the volume low, and Bobbi’s heart leapt into her throat when she recognized what was on the screen. “Are you watching Star Wars?”

“Yeah.” Phil stretched, yawning. “How was your night?”

Bobbi shrugged, padding into the den and plopping herself onto the couch, careful to leave a respectable amount of space between her and Phil. “The dance wasn’t as fun as we hoped.”

“That’s a shame,” he said. “Aren’t you tired?”

“I’m never too tired for Star Wars.” Bobbi paused. “Unless you want to go to bed?” She was, as previously noted, already up past curfew. Even though Phil wouldn’t have to work the next day, he probably wanted to keep his sleep schedule somewhat intact.

“Never too tired for Star Wars,” Phil agreed. “Do you want to do something crazy?”

Bobbi blinked.

“I just meant make some popcorn,” Phil laughed.

“Oh. Yeah.”

“How about you go change into your pajamas and I’ll get started on that?”

Bobbi nodded her agreement — she’d be glad to be in something more comfortable and warmer. When she returned to the couch in her fleece pants and sleep shirt, Phil had a steaming bowl of extra-butter popcorn in his lap. Bobbi took her place on the couch again, this time much closer to Phil so she could also reach the bowl. Bobbi tucked her feet underneath her, transfixed on the movie even though she had seen it at least a dozen times before.

“Who do you like better,” Bobbi asked, “Luke or Han?”

“I’m more of a Leia guy myself.”

“That’s the right answer.” Bobbi grinned, chomping on another handful of popcorn.

“I thought it might be.” Phil smiled back at her, eyes crinkling at the corners. Bobbi liked Phil’s eyes; they were dad eyes, soft and blue and approachable. Everything about Phil was… worn-in, Bobbi guessed would be the right word. He didn’t look too sharp or rough around the edges; he was the kind of dad that everyone liked at barbecues, who was kind of cheesy and dorky but still fun to be around. Bobbi avoided thinking about her own dad, whose eyes were just as blue.

“Do your kids still go trick or treating?”

“Kora did last year. Fitz never has. Daisy normally goes to a party with some of her friends,” Phil answered. “You wanna be Leia for Halloween?”

“If I had to pick a costume,” Bobbi said evasively. “I haven’t gone trick or treating since my parents died, though.”

Phil nodded carefully, and Bobbi could see him calculating his answer. “If you did go as Leia, I think Hunter would make a pretty good Han.”

“You liked him?” Bobbi hated how desperate she sounded, but she couldn’t take it back.

“He didn’t give me anything to dislike,” Phil said. “Except Fitz tells me he supports Liverpool? Whatever that means.”

“Soccer,” Bobbi informed him. “He and Fitz like rival teams.”

“Fitz made it sound like a much bigger deal than it was, then.”

Bobbi snorted. “They take it way too seriously.”

“Maybe,” Phil agreed. “But if you wanted to go trick or treating, I’m sure Kora would love you to go with her. She was really happy you guys got a picture together.”

“Yeah.” Bobbi caught her lip between her teeth. “I hope she knows I like her, you know? I just never had younger foster siblings, and she’s not as outgoing as Daisy is, so I don’t really know what to do.”

“She knows you like her,” Phil assured her. “She just doesn’t want to get in your way. She’s used to being told to scram.”

Bobbi’s mouth turned down into a frown. “That doesn’t sound like fun.”

“It’s a youngest child thing, I think.” Phil paused. “I didn’t have any siblings and neither did Mel, so we’re kind of shooting in the dark here with having so many of you.”

So many of you. Not so many of them. It was a subtle choice of words, but Bobbi noticed it instantly. Did Phil think of her as one of his kids?

“Izzy has a younger sister,” Bobbi said. “Maybe I’ll ask her about it.” If she was going to be with the Coulsons for a while — and it seemed likely she was, even though Bobbi hadn’t heard anything about her case from Mr. Gonzales — she would need to learn how to be a better older sister figure.

“Sounds like a plan.”

Bobbi stifled a yawn into her shoulder as the ending of the movie approached; they were well past midnight now and she was tired. She liked sitting with Phil, though; silence with him didn’t feel uncomfortable the way she feared it would when their conversation petered out. She had almost considered leaning against his shoulder, but decided against it. That was too comfortable, too familiar.

The last of the credits rolled by and Bobbi stood up, yawning again.

“If you want, we can watch Episode V together sometime,” Phil offered, also standing. He clicked off the television and tucked the now-empty popcorn bowl under his arm.

“I’d like that,” Bobbi said, ducking her head shyly.

“Pencil me in for next Saturday, then,” Phil said. “Mack’s coming over again, I think, but he’ll be gone after dinner.”

Bobbi nodded. Maybe she could make a better second impression on Mack, now that she was a bit more comfortable with Daisy — and, surprisingly, Phil.

They walked up the stairs together after Phil put the popcorn bowl in the kitchen sink, parting ways at Bobbi’s bedroom door.

“Have a good sleep, kiddo,” Phil said.

And Bobbi did.

Chapter Text

Before Bobbi even had time to eat breakfast (or, more honestly, lunch, since she had woken up at eleven), Daisy was dragging her down to her bedroom for a debrief of everything that had happened the night previous. Kora trailed behind them inquisitively, not quite inviting herself in when Daisy opened the door to her bedroom but also not leaving.

“Come on,” Bobbi said, beckoning Kora inside. Phil’s words from the night before still rang in her ears, and she wasn’t going to tell Kora to get lost when there was no reason she should be kept out of her conversation with Daisy. They weren’t talking about anything inappropriate, unless Daisy had questions she hadn’t mentioned to Bobbi before.

The three girls settled on Daisy’s bed — Daisy reclined against her pillows, Bobbi sat criss-crossed at the foot of the bed, and Kora leaned against the wall. Bobbi’s stomach gurgled unhappily at having been denied breakfast, and Daisy tossed her a bag of chips resting on the night stand.

“So?” Daisy pressed, leaning forward.

Bobbi opened the bag of chips, shrugging. “It was fine.”

“That doesn’t sound very fine.” Daisy frowned. “Do I need to punch Hunter?”

“No!” Bobbi insisted. “No, it wasn’t Hunter’s fault.” Hunter was the reason the night had been fine instead of awful. Bobbi also had a sneaking suspicion that Daisy would lose in any fight against Hunter, though she didn’t think her foster sister would want to hear that. “I guess school dances just aren’t my style.”

“Are you still going to go to prom, though?” Daisy asked. “You can’t skip prom!”

“If Hunter asks me to go to prom, I’ll go to prom,” Bobbi said. Thinking that far ahead was intimidating; prom would fall about a month before her eighteenth birthday, and at that point she’d probably be more concerned with transitioning to independent life than shopping for pretty dresses. Shopping for a homecoming dress had been more exciting than Bobbi had anticipated, though. She needed an excuse to wear that dress again.

“You know, you’re the first person I’ve known who has a boyfriend,” Daisy said. “A real one.”

“As opposed to…?”

“You know kids in middle school.” Daisy shrugged. “They hold hands and call that a relationship. Right, Kora?”

Kora blushed. “I don’t know anyone with a boyfriend. Even a fake one.”

Melinda would be glad to hear that. Kora was only twelve, after all.

“What about a girlfriend?”

“What?” Kora’s eyes went wide, and she looked… panicked? It wasn’t the reaction Bobbi expected to a relatively simple question.

“You know some boys, right? Do any of them have girlfriends?” Daisy asked patiently. She didn’t seem to notice Kora’s response to what she had said.

“Oh. No.”

“You know,” Bobbi said slowly, “not all boys have to have girlfriends, and not all girls have to have boyfriends.” Bobbi kept her attention on Kora, trying to gauge the other girl’s reaction.

“Well, yeah,” Daisy said, sounding perplexed by where Bobbi had taken the line of questioning. “There’s loads of single people.”

“I mean that boys can have boyfriends, and girls can have girlfriends,” Bobbi said, deciding it was better to stop beating around the bush. “Hunter has two moms, and they’re in love. Neither of them are interested in dating men.”

“Really?” Kora asked quietly. Daisy finally seemed to have caught on, and was holding preternaturally still, her eyes focused on her sister.

“Yeah,” Bobbi said, hoping her tone was encouraging rather than patronizing. “If I wasn’t with Hunter, I would date girls.”

“You’re bi?” Daisy seemed surprised by the revelation.

Bobbi nodded slowly. “Would your parents have a problem with that?” Foster homes were always a crap shoot when it came to different ideologies and parenting philosophies; more foster parents were always needed so it was difficult to turn people away as long as they completed the training and weren’t openly bigoted. From what she’d seen, Bobbi didn’t think the Coulsons were the type to turn a child away for being queer, but she’d been wrong before.

“I mean… I don’t think so?” Daisy looked at Bobbi, then back to Kora, obviously realizing they were talking about much more than Bobbi at the moment. “They love us. I don’t think that would change just because we love someone other than who they expected.”

“But you’ve never asked them for sure.”

“No,” Daisy admitted.

“You don’t think they’d be mad if I liked girls, too?” Kora’s voice was even smaller than it had been before.

“I don’t think so,” Daisy repeated.

“You don’t have to tell them if you don’t want to,” Bobbi put in gently. “I know you probably don’t keep a lot of secrets from your parents, but it’s important that you feel comfortable telling them.”

“I mean…” Kora looked down at her hands, her cheeks red. “I didn’t know if it was normal to feel that way. I didn’t want them to send me back if I was broken.”

“Kora,” Bobbi said, scooting to press her shoulder against her foster sister’s, “you’re not broken. Not at all.”

“And Mom and Dad aren’t ever going to send you back anywhere,” Daisy said, sliding down the bed to sit on Kora’s other side. “You’re their daughter. They aren’t going to throw that away just because you like girls.”

Bobbi helpfully didn’t mention that there were a lot of parents who would do just that. She was hoping the Coulsons weren’t those parents. At the very least if Kora did come out and something went wrong, she had an easy next step: she would call Vic and Izzy, and they would take Kora in without question. There was a security that came with the Hartley family that Bobbi couldn’t explain. She wished she could take the feeling in her chest — the warm, heavy assurance that always lodged right behind her breastbone when she thought about Hunter’s family — and just give it to Kora. That wasn’t how that worked, though. All Bobbi had was her words, which sucked, because she was one of the worst comforters she knew.

“I like you just like this,” Bobbi said, wrapping an arm around Kora. Daisy did the same, sandwiching Kora in two half-hugs. “So, what’s her name?” Bobbi still remembered the girl who made her realize she wasn’t straight; Cecelia Rousseau had long dark hair and soft brown eyes that had perplexed thirteen-year-old Bobbi to no end. She had been confused about her near obsession with Cecelia until she’d figured out what attraction was, and that was that.

“Piper,” Kora mumbled, ducking her head.

“Piper, like your best friend Piper?” Daisy asked, shocked.

“Maybe…” Kora blushed even deeper red, and Bobbi squeezed her close.

“Hunter was my best friend before we started dating,” she said. “It happens.”

“You should tell that to Fitz,” Daisy said mildly.

“What?”

“Oh, he’s obsessed with one of his friends at The Academy. He pretends he’s not, but he totally is,” Daisy laughed. “He’ll never ask her out, though. He’s too shy.”

“Did you ask Hunter out, or did he ask you?” Kora piped up, seeming glad the attention had shifted away from her.

“He asked me. But we both knew we liked each other by then, so it didn’t really matter.”

“Do you love him?” Kora asked out of the blue.

“I do,” Bobbi said carefully. “But more importantly than that, I trust him. I depend on him. I care about him. I listen to him.” Bobbi let out a soft sigh. “The thing about love is that it’s not enough on its own. Which sucks, because I’d really like it to be, but…”

“But it’s not,” Daisy finished. “God, I’m never getting a boyfriend.”

That was not what Bobbi had intended the takeaway of the conversation to be, but she would accept it.

---

“Excellent, Bobbi.” Dr. Cho smiled at her when she presented her team’s answer to that day’s Science Olympiad practice questions. They’d gotten all of them correct in addition to shaving fifteen seconds off the time it had taken them to answer the same number of questions at their last meeting. Their team was starting to get more and more competitive, and Bobbi liked to believe a part of it was because of her participation.

“We are going to thrash The Academy,” Anne declared when Bobbi went back to her seat.

“And every other team,” Donnie, one of the other Science Olympiad members, agreed. “They aren’t going to know what hit them.”

“Oh, they’ll know what hit them.” Anne grinned. “They will know my name!”

“You’re sounding a little supervillain-esque there, Weaver,” Bobbi laughed. In the last month or so of being friends with Anne she had learned the other girl had a love of comics, which was sweet — and also made for a lot of teasing opportunities. There was nothing like telling Anne she was behaving like The Joker and seeing her turn bright red. (Bobbi had never even seen a Batman movie, but after she had seen Tomas mention The Joker in front of Anne and get a fifteen-minute lecture for it, it was pretty easy to tell how to rile Anne up.)

“I’m just excited!” Anne insisted. Dr. Cho gestured for them to quiet down, gave them a few notes and a practice set for the next meeting, then let them go on their way. Bobbi didn’t know how she was going to have time for the practice problems when Dr. Cho had also assigned a mountain of homework to her biology class, but she was going to try her damnedest. She didn’t want to let her teammates down, not when they were doing so well.

“You know,” Anne said as she and Bobbi walked through the hallways together, “a lot of schools offer scholarships to students who compete in Science Olympiad. Especially if you do well at regionals or states.”

“Yeah?” Bobbi asked, carefully cautious. Anne was knee-deep in college applications, and seemed to have realized the only reason Bobbi wasn’t in the same position was because of her financial situation. Anne seemed to have become an expert on the FAFSA, scholarships, and student loans, and Bobbi hoped it wasn’t just for her sake — it was a lot of research.

“Ohio State has one. And the national board for Science Olympiad is giving out a few, too,” Anne said.

“Do you really think I’d have a chance?” Bobbi asked. “I mean, I’ve only been in Science Olympiad for a few weeks.”

“And you’re already one of our team’s best players,” Anne insisted. “You’ll see when we clean up at regionals. You’re really good, Bobbi.”

“Why do you care?” Bobbi asked after a minute of silence. “I mean, I know you really want to beat that girl at The Academy, but I mean… with scholarships. Going to college. Why do you care?”

“My mom was the first person in her family to go to college,” Anne said. “It changed her life. And I guess it just sucks to see someone who is obviously smart enough to do well not have that chance because of money.”

“There are plenty of people like me.” Bobbi looked at her shoes as they scuffed along the tile hallway. “Who don’t get the chances they deserve.”

“Yeah,” Anne agreed. “But they’re not all my friends.”

They reached the front entrance of the school and had to go their separate ways, since Anne had parked in the side lot.

“Thank you,” Bobbi said before Anne turned around. “For, um, caring. I’m not used to having friends.”

“Is it rude if I say that I can tell?” Anne smiled wryly.

“Maybe a little.”

“Well I said it anyway.”

“Yeah, you did,” Bobbi laughed. “But, really. Thanks.”

Anne nodded and waved goodbye before jogging over to her car. Bobbi crossed the parking lot, twirling her keys around her fingers. She knew how to be a good girlfriend and help Hunter with what he needed, but it had been a long time since she’d been a plain friend to anyone. Hopefully she didn’t screw it up.

---

“Hey, kiddo,” Phil said when Bobbi walked through the door. She startled slightly — Phil normally wasn’t home when she and Daisy got back from school. “Can you come into the kitchen for a second to talk?”

Bobbi gulped. Had Phil and Melinda gotten wind of her conversation with their daughters and decided to kick her out for being bi (or corrupting Kora)? Was there some other reason she was going to be given the boot she didn’t know about yet? Bobbi left her backpack on the couch, making sure it was zipped so Cap wouldn’t get in and chew up her books, before following Phil into the kitchen. Melinda was already sitting at the table, which only made the alarm bells in Bobbi’s head ring louder.

“Mr. Gonzales contacted us while you were at school,” Phil said after they had both settled at the table. “Your nana’s first court date is tomorrow. He expects that’s when the court will decide whether or not to accept her petition to sever parental rights.”

Bobbi’s stomach dropped into her toes. It was better news than being kicked out, but still not particularly happy. “Okay,” she said, because there was nothing else to say. She couldn’t change her nana’s decision — she just had to accept it.

“I’m going to take off work tomorrow so I can be there,” Melinda said. Bobbi nodded, studying the grain of the wood in the kitchen table. Melinda worked as an actuary, and according to her a part of the reason she’d chosen the job was the relatively flexible schedule allowing her to attend all the meetings necessary when she had a foster child. Phil’s job as an art restorationist was occasionally flexible as well, but he had more tight deadlines to meet than Melinda did. (Bobbi was a bit shocked an art restorationist could afford a five-bedroom home, but apparently they could make a killing — and having an actuary’s salary on top of that didn’t hurt).

“Obviously nothing will change right now even if the court doesn’t decide to grant her the severance,” Phil said, “but we wanted to keep you in the loop as much as possible.”

“Thanks,” Bobbi mumbled. She did appreciate knowing more about what was happening, but it was also kind of depressing. Like Phil said, nothing in her life was going to change regardless of what happened at court; foster care would be in her future no matter what.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Phil asked gently.

“No.” Bobbi looked up from the table. “I should get started on my homework.”

She caught the glance between Phil and Melinda, but couldn’t decipher what passed between them before they nodded and allowed her to go fetch her backpack and get back to work.

---

All of Bobbi’s classes were going well, except for one: Home Ec.

It was ridiculous that Home Ec was the one class she was struggling with. Bobbi had been cooking for herself for the past three years without a problem, and she was certain she knew more about budgeting and finances than most seventeen-year-olds. She knew enough to keep both plants and children alive in a pinch, but also enough to know she didn’t want plants or children in the foreseeable future.

Her Home Ec nemesis, however, was sewing.

Bobbi thought it would be one class. Maybe one week, if she was really unlucky. But no, her Home Ec teacher had decided that it was necessary for them to spend an entire ten-week unit on sewing, starting in the third week of October and going until the end of December. They could’ve spent this long on food and nutrition, but no, it had to be sewing. With real needles.

Real, stabby needles.

Bobbi was going to die.

She didn’t recall any memory with needles she would call particularly traumatic, but likewise Bobbi didn’t remember ever not being afraid of needles. Seeing her parents hooked up to a variety of machines after the car accident that had killed them certainly hadn’t helped her distaste for medical situations, but it hadn’t been the genesis of her phobia, either. Trips to the doctor’s office were always an affair for Bobbi — it was only her absolute mortification at crying in front of Melinda that had kept Bobbi from bursting into tears at the doctor’s office when she’d had her first checkup after coming to the Coulsons.

Being forced in close proximity to needles wasn’t going to help, but Bobbi also couldn’t opt out of an entire unit. It would be half of her grade for the first semester, and failing wasn’t an option, especially if she wanted to keep her GPA up. The Coulsons hadn’t said anything about expecting her to get good grades, but given Daisy had been on honor roll since starting high school and Fitz went to a damn magnet school, Bobbi got the impression doing poorly academically wasn’t an option.

Beyond that, though, Bobbi had started thinking seriously about what Anne said about some schools offering scholarships for Science Olympiad participants. Ohio State’s in-state tuition price made her a little nauseous, but with scholarships and the inheritance she’d have access to whens he turned eighteen, it was possible she’d be able to afford it. If she got a college degree she’d be able to get a better job, and then…

Bobbi hadn’t told anyone about her college considerations. She was going to have to soon if she wanted to apply, since the application fee would have to be paid with a credit card, but she wanted to be sure that was what she wanted before diving in head-first.

She sighed, spinning the needle around idly on her desk. They were supposed to be practicing their running stitches, but Bobbi hadn’t even gotten her needle threaded yet.

“Do you need help?” the girl next to her asked quietly.

“No, I…” Bobbi sighed, picking the needle up carefully. “I just really don’t like needles.”

Her seat neighbor scrunched her nose sympathetically. “I didn’t, either, until I got into felting.”

Bobbi blinked. “Felting?”

“You stab wool a bunch of times until it turns into a solid ball, kind of like felt,” the other girl said. “It’s kind of violent but also kind of soothing.”

“Why’d you get into it if you don’t like needles?” Bobbi certainly wouldn’t take up a hobby that had anything to do with needles if she could help it. Then again, she didn’t have many hobbies to begin with, other than running and doing homework (the latter of which probably only counted as a hobby if you were being generous).

“My therapist suggested it,” she said breezily. Bobbi envied her ability to talk about therapy so easily. Bobbi had never liked going to therapy, and it was a bit of a relief that this time around the court hadn't mandated her going to therapy at all.

“I’m Kara.” The other girl put down her sewing so she could extend her hand for a handshake. It was a little overly-formal for Bobbi’s tastes, but she preferred overly-formal to overly-familiar.

“Bobbi.”

“You don’t talk much in class,” Kara said. There wasn’t any judgment in her voice but Bobbi felt chastised nonetheless.

“It’s not really what I’m good at.” She spoke up in her science and math classes because she understood what was going on — and she had Anne there to back her up or explain what she did wrong if she misunderstood something. Even if Bobbi understood the practical aspect of Home Ec, the more technical aspect like writing a meal plan or talking about different kinds of plants to put in a garden didn’t make sense to her.

“I just thought you were shy.” Kara reached for Bobbi’s needle and Bobbi allowed her to take it and thread it carefully. “If you’re worried about poking yourself, you might want to get a thimble. That’s what I used when I first started felting and it helped me calm down.”

“Maybe.” Bobbi couldn’t imagine how she’d go about getting a thimble. If she asked Phil or Melinda for one, she’d have to explain the reasoning behind it, which Bobbi wasn’t keen on. Phil and Melinda had been tiptoeing around her since her nana’s court visit, so having any sort of heartfelt conversation wasn’t likely to happen.

“And I’m not shy,” Bobbi added as an afterthought. Guarded was a more apt description — and it was a carefully-calculated guardedness, not one that happened accidentally. She knew better than to say too much or let too many people in.

Kara handed the threaded needle back to Bobbi wordlessly. “Go slowly and you’ll be fine.”

Bobbi nodded and turned back to the practice scrap of fabric. She would be fine — she just needed to freak out a little first.

Chapter Text

“I want to be on Bobbi’s team!” Kora announced when they began to gather for the Coulson family (and Bobbi) board game afternoon.

“You don’t even know what game we’re playing,” Daisy said at the same time Phil reminded her, “We don’t need to do teams today, Kora.”

Both Fitz and Elena were absent from the weekend’s visit, Elena because she hadn’t been feeling well and Fitz because he had to do some extra work in the lab at school. Bobbi was a bit perplexed that Fitz had lab work as a part of his homework, but she knew better than to question The Academy. Everything she learned about that place just made her more confused.

“We can still be on a team together if you want,” Bobbi offered. Kora had been a bit clingy since homecoming and their talk in Daisy’s bedroom, but Bobbi couldn’t say she minded. It was kind of nice to be wanted.

“Let’s pick what we’re playing first,” Melinda said steadily. “Then we can decide whether or not we need teams.”

The card game they ended up choosing to play (Spoons) didn’t require anyone to partner up, but Kora still sat with her knee pressed against Bobbi’s on the floor.

“So, Kora, you picked your Halloween costume for this year yet?” Mack asked. Judging by the look on his face he knew full well Kora had a costume picked — which was necessary, considering Halloween was only a few days away and Melinda didn’t like leaving things until the last minute.

“I’m going as Chewbacca,” Kora said, more focused on the cards in her hand than on Mack. She poked her tongue through her teeth in concentration as she picked up a card passed to her by Phil before handing it onto Bobbi. “Bobbi and Hunter are taking me.”

“Yeah?” Mack asked, his gaze shifting to Bobbi.

“We’re going as Han and Leia. Kora wanted to match,” Bobbi explained. “I said we should dress Cap up as R2 but apparently he has a costume already.” Unsurprisingly given his namesake, the costume was Captain America-themed; it had a cowl and a harness and even a toy shield that could be strapped to the dog’s back.

“He has the same costume every year,” Mack chuckled. “And every year he hates it.”

“He’s just growing into it!” Phil insisted.

“Dad. You’ve been saying that for three years.”

“And one year I’ll be right, won’t I?”

“I don’t think that’s how that works,” Mack said, grabbing a spoon from the center of the circle of people. The conversation lulled while everyone else made a mad grab for a spoon. Phil was left without one, and Melinda marked down a point for him on the score sheet.

“I also don’t think you kids would have much fun taking the dog with you,” Melinda said. “You know how he gets sometimes.”

Bobbi nodded. On her daily walks with Cap she had learned more of his eccentricities. While she maintained that Cap was a very good boy, he could occasionally be distractible or destructive. Having to watch him while also making sure Kora didn’t get out of her sight would be more stressful than it was worth. The responsibility of being the one to take Kora trick-or-treating wasn’t lost on Bobbi; at twelve years old Kora was independent enough to get into a world of trouble but naive enough not to realize most of the consequences. Bobbi didn’t want to mess up the Coulson’s trust in her because she was trying to juggle too many things at once.

“So why Chewbacca and not Rey?” Mack asked as he began shuffling the cards.

“I’ve been practicing my Wookie noises!” Kora exclaimed. “And then I can do that instead of saying trick or treat!”

“And Mom was afraid she’d get too cold in any costume for Rey,” Daisy added with an eye roll. Melinda shot her a look and Daisy immediately looked down, chastised. She knew better than to roll her eyes where her mother could see her.

“And Hunter’s cool with taking a middle schooler trick-or-treating?” Mack said.

Bobbi shrugged. “He hasn’t said anything to me if he isn’t.” Personally, Bobbi thought there might’ve been a bit of pressure from Izzy and Vic. They were worried if Hunter didn’t go out with Bobbi then Idaho would take him to one of the college parties, and that was a recipe for disaster.

“Why wouldn’t Hunter want to come with us?” Kora asked as the second round of the game began.

“No reason,” Mack said easily. “Just that not all teenage boys are as cool as me and Trip were.”

“What about Fitz?”

“What about him?” Mack smirked, obviously content to leave his younger brother out of the list of cool teenage boys.

“I’m telling him you said that,” Daisy informed her brother.

“You do that, Tremors.”

---

The rest of the house was quiet by the time Bobbi and Phil settled together on the sofa to watch Episode V of Star Wars. Bobbi knew for a fact Fitz and Daisy weren’t asleep, but Fitz wasn’t allowed to play video games (or watch soccer) after Kora went to bed, since he had a tendency to shout when he got overexcited and Daisy preferred to have some time to chill on her laptop without distractions.

It didn’t matter as much to Bobbi who was asleep, as long as she and Phil were alone. It felt a lot less strange to talk to any of her foster family when they weren’t all together — then she didn’t feel as much like an intrusion.

The movie began and Bobbi felt herself relax as her eyes followed the familiar text of the opening crawl. The day hadn’t been stressful, exactly, but she still wasn’t as comfortable around Mack as she was with the rest of the Coulsons. He was trying, and Bobbi was too, but sometimes things just didn’t work out. Honestly, it was more frustrating that they both were trying and the connection was still missing; it would’ve been easier just to blame it on lack of effort rather than lack of compatibility.

Bobbi propped her chin on her knees, forcing herself to focus on the movie instead of letting herself get sucked down a hole. Things were going better with Daisy and Kora, which was already more than she expected. It was selfish to ask for more.

“I still can’t believe Leia did all this after her parents died,” Bobbi said, more to herself than to Phil. Leia was only nineteen, and she had lost her parents twice. Bobbi had barely survived losing her parents once, and she definitely wouldn’t have been able to save the galaxy right after she lost both her parents and her home.

“She’s a tough cookie,” Phil remarked softly. “It’s one of the reasons I like her.”

“Me too.”

“I think part of the reason she did everything she did was because she wanted to make her parents proud,” Phil said. “She knew what they were fighting for and she wanted to carry on their legacy.”

“Kind of hard to do that when you don’t know what your parents’ legacy is,” Bobbi muttered. She loved her parents, but they hadn’t been particularly passionate about anything, as far as she knew. They hadn’t died in a great intergalactic war — just a car accident. There was no banner to take up, no way to honor them by avenging their deaths.

“Hey,” Phil said gently. “You’re seventeen. You don’t need to be worried about legacies yet.”

“Leia was nineteen.”

“And that never should have been something she had to do,” Phil said, pausing the movie. “A bunch of kids shouldn’t have been responsible for saving the galaxy, even if they were really special kids.”

“You think a nineteen-year-old is a kid?”

“Mack’s twenty-five and he’s still my baby boy.” Phil smiled softly, almost nostalgically. “That’s the way it is when you’re a parent. Twenty years from now when he’s forty-five he’ll still be a kid to me.”

“Huh,” was all Bobbi could manage to say. Her nana certainly hadn’t thought she was a child still, but that was probably part of the reason Bobbi wasn’t with her anymore.

“And sometimes going against your parent is the best thing you can do,” Phil added. “Look at Luke.”

“Anakin wasn’t really his parent though, was he?” Bobbi squeezed her knees tighter to her chest. “He was Luke’s father, but not his dad.” Anakin wasn’t the one who had raised Luke or taught him right from wrong or done anything other than contribute DNA.

“That’s true.”

“Do you think Luke and Leia ever wished they got to meet their birth parents?” Bobbi asked, since they were on the topic anyways. It was something she had wondered since Hunter had told him about why he ended up in the foster care system; his biological mother didn’t know who his father was and hadn’t been able to take care of him. There had been a few steps in between that and foster care — a failed adoption one of them — but ultimately the result was the same. Hunter didn’t talk much about his biological mother with Bobbi out of politeness and respect for her mother being dead, but Bobbi could tell he thought about her sometimes, and maybe even missed her.

“I think they were probably curious, yes,” Phil said, picking his words carefully. “And that curiosity is normal. Loving their adoptive parents doesn’t mean they didn’t think about their birth parents.”

“Do any of your kids still talk to their birth parents?” Bobbi asked, wondering if that was an invasion of privacy.

“Trip and Fitz do, yes.”

“Isn’t that… kind of weird?” Maybe it was different because Bobbi was placed into foster care by the death of her parents, but she couldn’t imagine having foster parents — or adoptive parents — alongside her biological ones. She hadn’t expected that any of the Coulsons still talked to their biological families.

Phil shrugged. “As long as they’re safe and it’s a relationship they want to have, Melinda and I have no problem with it.”

Bobbi nodded. Phil, sensing the conversation was over, unpaused the movie.

They made it through the rest of the movie without interruption, but when it was over Bobbi didn’t move from the couch; Phil didn’t either.

“Would you ever want to be adopted, Bobbi?” Phil asked.

“It’s a bit late for me now, isn’t it?” Bobbi asked, grabbing the empty bowl of popcorn so she could ignore the nervous energy suddenly zipping through her. She could guess what had prompted the question — all of her comments about Luke and Leia being adopted — but it still felt a bit like a blindside. “I mean, no one wants to adopt a seventeen-year-old.” And more specifically, no one wanted to adopt her.

Bobbi blinked back the stinging in her eyes. She’d almost gotten adopted, when she was younger — her aunt, her father’s sister, had wanted to adopt her. But then the world continued to suck and that had been taken from her. Her aunt had been taken from her. Bobbi liked to think about that even less than her parents’ deaths, because it had been hope ripped away.

“Some people do,” Phil said.

It would be rude to scoff, so Bobbi just kept her mouth shut.

“You’ll put that in the sink?” Phil asked after a long pause. Bobbi nodded, and watched as Phil headed up the stairs. Only when he had gone did Bobbi finally allow the tears to flow hot and thick down her cheeks. She was never going to get adopted, and she was never going to save the galaxy or carry on her parents’ legacy. Even if she could figure out how to get to college, she wasn’t going to change the world.

She was always going to be just Bobbi.

---

Halloween night was just cold enough that Bobbi felt the chill through her costume when she, Hunter, and Kora set off ten minutes after sundown. Melinda had tried to get Kora to wait longer, but eventually it wasn’t worth hearing can we go now? for the hundredth time.

“So, Kora, a little birdie told me that you’ve been practicing your Wookie noises,” Hunter said as they began walking down the street, his hand tight in Bobbi’s. “Can I hear a practice one?”

Bobbi couldn’t see Kora’s face behind her Chewbacca mask, but she could only guess at how big of a smile was on it as her foster sister immediately let out a Wookie call. It was pretty accurate to the movie, Bobbi thought.

“I give you a ten out of ten!”

“Yay!” Kora had extra pep in her step for the next five houses they rang the doorbells of, and Bobbi couldn’t help but wonder if Hunter should’ve saved that for an hour from now when Kora was whining about her feet hurting or her pillowcase being too heavy.

“What’s your favorite candy, Hunter?” Kora asked when they made their way to the next house. “Bobbi likes chocolate, did you know that?”

“I did know that,” Hunter said, hiding his amused smile by pressing a kiss to Bobbi’s cheek. “I also like chocolate a lot. Someone likes to steal from me.”

“Do not!”

“I won’t tell Mom you steal stuff from Hunter,” Kora promised. Bobbi’s cheeks burned. The last thing she needed was the Coulsons locking up everything in their house because they thought she was going to take it from them. Melinda probably wouldn’t be as happy to let Bobbi use her laptop for schoolwork if she thought that laptop was going to disappear in the middle of the night.

“I would give it to her anyways,” Hunter said, squeezing Bobbi’s hand. “Because I’m a good boyfriend.”

“Are you supposed to give your girlfriend stuff?” Kora asked, carefully nonchalant. Bobbi was not ever going to admit how adorable she found it that her foster sister was asking her boyfriend for advice on how to have a girlfriend, but she was going to think it anyways.

“Nah. I just like doing it,” Hunter said. “If you ever meet a girl who only likes you because you buy her stuff, you run away.”

Bobbi suppressed a snort. She highly doubted Kora’s best friend was a gold-digger, especially not at twelve. “Does Piper like gifts?” she asked instead. “Because some people don’t, really. You’re better off finding something they respond to.”

“We had to learn about love languages in my health class,” Kora admitted. “I’m not really sure I get it.”

What Bobbi didn’t get was what love languages had to do with health, but that wasn’t the focus on the conversation at hand. “Well, you like it when Daisy and I give you hugs,” Bobbi said. “And you like spending time with Mack.”

Kora nodded thoughtfully, swinging her pillow case back and forth as they continued up the street. “I guess. But how do I figure out what Piper likes?”

“You spend lots of time with her, right?” Bobbi asked. “And you pay attention when she talks.”

“Yeah…” Kora said, uncertain.

“Take what you know and just try your best,” Bobbi advised. “All relationships start out a little rocky. You just have to figure out how to get past that.”

“Did you two start out rocky?” Kora asked as they hiked up a hill.

“Absolutely,” Hunter said. “I was convinced Bob hated me for a solid week.”

Kora turned to give Hunter a strange look. “But she was your girlfriend.”

“Yeah, but she could still hate me, couldn’t she?”

“I could never hate you,” Bobbi said, squeezing Hunter’s hand. Even when he drove her mental, Bobbi loved Hunter. That was what a relationship was supposed to be about, right?

Kora kept asking questions about Bobbi and Hunter (questions which Bobbi guessed were really more about Kora and Piper) as they snaked their way through the Coulsons’ neighborhood and the adjacent ones. They had seen all manner of things, from houses decorated with hundreds of fake decorations to those with just a plastic bowl full of candy on their front steps. Halloween was amazing because you could go all-out or you could do nothing at all, and kids didn’t care as long as you had something sweet to give them. Bobbi guessed they had been out for at least two hours when Kora let out a yawn that was obvious even through her Chewbacca mask.

Bobbi bit her lip. She was supposed to be the adult, which meant she got to decide when they turned around, but… Kora was still bouncing along happily, and Bobbi liked getting to talk to her. Kora had questions Bobbi could actually answer, which was nice in a world where Bobbi felt like she was drowning in all the unknowns.

Hunter squeezed her hand and Bobbi turned to look at him, confused. He flashed her a wink and a grin and Bobbi took it to mean he had the situation handled.

Two houses later, Hunter let out an exaggerated yawn of his own. “Say, Bob, can we turn back soon? I’m afraid I’m beat.”

“What do you think, Kora?” Bobbi asked, catching on immediately. “Ten more houses then we turn around?”

“Will Hunter make it that long?” Kora asked, obviously stifling another yawn.

“I don’t know, Lance, will you?”

“Maybe five more houses,” Hunter suggested. “So I don’t keel over on you.”

Kora agreed readily, and they hit the last five houses in quick succession. The last house they visited was giving out king-sized candy bars, so Bobbi thought it was a rather auspicious ending.

By the time they got back to the Coulsons’ house Kora was dragging her feet with every step, and Bobbi was a little worried she’d have to ask Hunter to carry Kora. Luckily it didn’t come to that, and they collapsed in the living room with their pillowcases of candy beside them.

Fitz materialized out of nowhere. “If there’s any candy you don’t want, you know who to give it to, right, Kora?”

“Bobbi,” Kora answered promptly, giving Fitz her sweetest faux-smile. Fitz scrunched his face up and muttered something that sounded like traitor before disappearing just as quickly as he had come.

Bobbi dumped her candy out onto the floor and began sorting it meticulously, first separating chocolate from everything else and then sub-dividing each category further.

“I never understood these things,” Hunter said, shaking a cardboard box of Dots. “You get like three pieces of candy. You might not even get one of the good ones.”

“Same with Starburst!” Kora piped up, pointing to the pile of Starburst she had gotten. “What happens if you get two yellow?”

“You’re sad,” Hunter answered sagely.

“Trade you a Reese’s for a Hershey’s,” Bobbi said, poking Hunter with her foot and distracting them all from lamenting about the bad candy.

“Deal.” He tossed her the chocolate bar and she threw him the peanut butter cup, smiling. Hunter loved Reese’s more than life itself, and she would gladly give him all of hers, but it was easier to pretend they were trading. Then he could give her all the chocolate he wanted without her protesting, either.

“If I open my Starburst can I still trade them?” Kora asked.

“Depends on what you’re going to trade,” Bobbi said. “I’m not saying yes to yellow no matter what.”

“I don’t like the red ones,” Kora said.

“But you like that crazy gummy blood stuff.” Bobbi furrowed her brow.

“Not all artificial cherry tastes the same!” Kora insisted. “Some of it’s weird.”

“Then I’ll trade you some oranges and yellows for reds if you want,” Bobbi said.

They continued bargaining and bartering for different candies until Bobbi had given away her entire horde of Reese’s and received more than enough Hershey’s and Crunch bars in return, as well as a pile of red Starburst bigger than her fist. She hadn’t realized just how much candy they’d all gotten until it was all spread out on the floor around them; Bobbi was more than a little impressed Kora had carried her pillowcase the whole time without complaining once.

Kora continued yawning until Melinda came in from the kitchen and shooed her to bed, leaving Bobbi and Hunter alone on the living room floor.

“Thanks for coming tonight,” Bobbi said quietly, crawling over so she could sit next to Hunter.

“There’s no place I’d have rather been.” Hunter kissed the side of her head gently. “Kora’s quite the character, isn’t she?”

“She is,” Bobbi agreed. “I think she likes you, though.”

Hunter smiled, kissing Bobbi’s head again. “Good.”

They stayed there a little longer, Bobbi soaking in Hunter’s presence as much as she could. She missed spending time with him every day — snatching a few hours here and there just wasn’t the same.

“I should get going before your curfew,” Hunter said eventually.

“I thought you were supposed to be a scoundrel.” Bobbi nudged his shoulder with hers. “You know, sneak into my bedroom in the middle of the night.”

“There aren’t enough scoundrels in your life,” Hunter agreed, tilting his head so he could fit her mouth over hers. “But I don’t think I want to ruin my goodwill with your foster parents by sneaking into your bedroom,” he murmured against her lips.

“Probably not,” Bobbi sighed. Even if she knew she and Hunter would just be cuddling and not messing around, Phil and Melinda wouldn’t know the same. “Drive safe, okay?”

“Always.” Hunter leaned in for one last kiss, and Bobbi melted into him. He melted back, all chocolate-smeared lips and softness when they said goodbye. Bobbi smiled at his retreating taillights, hugging herself in the cold October air. Hunter wasn’t as much of a scoundrel as he liked to believe he was — he was just hers.

---

Bobbi jerked awake to the sound of her bedroom door creaking open. Dazed, she scrambled for something to throw at whoever was coming into her room before her brain woke up and registered the silhouette in the doorway.

“Kora?” Bobbi croaked. “What’s wrong?”

“I had a nightmare,” Kora sniffled, shuffling further into Bobbi’s bedroom. “Can I sleep with you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Bobbi said, wiggling over in her bed so there was enough room for Kora. Her bed was a full so it would be a tight squeeze regardless, but at least now Kora wouldn’t be in danger of falling off. She climbed in silently, cuddling close to Bobbi.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Bobbi asked quietly, handing Birdie to Kora to hold. Kora wrapped her arms around the stuffed animal, pulling it close to her chest.

“Remember the house that had all those red lights?” Kora asked.

“Yeah.” Bobbi ran her hand through Kora’s hair absent-mindedly. The house had definitely been on the side of ‘go all-out for Halloween’, and they’d even had a dozen moving Halloween decorations… including a ghost that had swooped down from overhead. Damnit. Bobbi should have remembered that one.

“It was just kind of scary,” Kora said. “But Mom and Dad won’t let me go out trick-or-treating next year if they think I’ll get nightmares again.”

“I don’t think that’s true,” Bobbi whispered. “Everyone gets scared sometimes. We don’t need to hide it.”

“I bet you never get scared,”

Bobbi scoffed. “That’s not true at all.”

“What are you scared of?”

Bobbi moved closer to Kora so the younger girl wouldn’t see the tears threatening to spill over her lower lids. “I get scared when I have to drive at night.” Hunter had been the one to drive them to homecoming for more reasons than just chivalry; Bobbi always panicked when she drove after dark — it reminded her too much of the night her parents died. Even when it was someone else driving Bobbi sometimes freaked out, though she was doing better with that recently. “I don’t like needles, and sometimes when people yell I get scared.” Her first foster family had been the yelling type. It wasn’t fun.

“I don’t like people yelling either,” Kora admitted. “Or ghosts, or the dark.”

Bobbi hummed softly in agreement. “Have your parents ever gotten mad at you for being scared before?”

“No…”

“Then why would they start now?”

“I don’t know,” Kora said. “But it still makes my stomach feel funny.”

“Okay.” Bobbi carded her fingers through Kora’s hair again. “You don’t have to tell them if you don’t want to.”

“Thanks, Bobbi.”

“Of course.” Bobbi brushed a kiss along the back of Kora’s head before she could stop herself. “Let’s get some sleep, okay?”

“Okay.”

Bobbi waited for Kora’s breathing to fall into a slow, even rhythm before shutting her own eyes and hoping the nightmares stayed away for a while.

Chapter Text

When Bobbi woke up, Kora was still tucked against her, breathing slowly and softly. She was careful not to disturb the other girl as she climbed out of bed and trudged downstairs for breakfast.

She was halfway through her bowl of cereal when Kora also appeared, taking the seat at Bobbi’s elbow silently.

“How’d you sleep?” Bobbi asked.

“Good.” Kora offered a shy smile. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” Bobbi said, hesitating before wrapping an arm around Kora’s shoulders. “You know I’m here if you need me, right? Not just for nightmares, but…” Bobbi hated to admit how much she enjoyed Kora looking up to her. She had seen the way the younger girl looked up to Daisy, but hadn’t thought she would care whether or not Kora would treat her the same way. Now that she seemed to have Kora’s respect — adoration, even — Bobbi would do anything to keep it.

“Yeah,” Kora said, smile widening. “I know.”

“Good.” Bobbi wanted to say something else, but the words failed her. She wasn’t good at this — this family stuff. A part of her wondered if it was even a good idea to let Kora admire her the way she did. Bobbi would leave, and it would break Kora’s heart. That was the thing about little kids: they didn’t understand the foster care system. And it wasn’t even like Kora was that young, but… she seemed to be under the impression that Bobbi was going to be permanent, and that was dangerous.

Kora gave one last smile before standing up to get breakfast of her own. Bobbi lingered at the kitchen table even after she finished her cereal, unsure if she was supposed to do anything else to address the situation of the previous night before she went about her day.

“Good morning, girls,” Melinda said, coming into the kitchen. Her hair was still damp from her shower, which meant she had gotten a later start to her day than usual. “Kora, no candy for breakfast?”

“Bobbi had cereal,” Kora said.

“I didn’t know candy was an option.” Bobbi looked between Melinda and Kora, unsure if they were joking or not.

“Day after Halloween we tend to turn a blind eye to poor dietary choices,” Melinda explained. “Phil’s idea.”

Ah. That explained a lot.

“I’ll take some chocolate with me to the library,” Bobbi decided. “I told you I was meeting Anne there, right?”

Melinda nodded. “Science Olympiad study session,” she recalled.

Bobbi tried not to look too guilty when she gave Melinda a thumb’s up. She and Anne were going to study for Science Olympiad — but Anne was also going to help Bobbi figure out her college applications and scholarship information. Melinda let Bobbi use her laptop for school work, but Bobbi was more than a little paranoid about someone in her foster family finding out about her college plans and trying to dissuade her. It was easier just to do it all on her own.

“Do you have the schedule for when the tournaments are yet?” Melinda asked when Bobbi began cleaning up her breakfast dishes. “Phil and I want to come if we can.”

“It’s not really that interesting to watch…” Bobbi said, wringing her hands. She had started watching Jeopardy as practice (or at least, that was what she told herself) and the fun part of watching it was getting to yell out the correct answers to the television when no one else could hear you. Having to be silent spectators so none of the teams would hear your answers and be unfairly benefited seemed kind of boring. Not to mention the Science Olympiad tournaments were a lot longer than an episode of Jeopardy and didn’t have commercial breaks where you could get more snacks.

“What’s not interesting to watch?” Daisy asked as she shuffled into the kitchen.

“Science Olympiad!” Kora piped up. “Bobbi doesn’t want us to come see her.”

“I didn’t say that,” Bobbi protested. “Just that you really don’t have to come and watch. It’ll be boring.”

“If she doesn’t want to tell you you can just ask Fitz,” Daisy said, slumping into the seat next to kora. “He has the schedule memorized.”

“Don’t make fun of your brother.”

“I’m not making fun of him!”

“So the next sentence out of your mouth wasn’t going to be about how he’s obsessed with that girl?” Melinda asked archly. Daisy muttered something under her breath and picked at the table with her fingernails. “That’s what I thought.”

“The first tournament isn’t until March,” Bobbi said finally. “I think The Academy is doing some sort of practice tournament in January but that doesn’t count for points or anything.”

“Whenever you have the schedule just let me know so we can put it on the calendar,” Melinda said.

Bobbi nodded and then escaped to her bedroom before anyone could ask her more questions about Science Olympiad or coming to watch her. She didn’t want to get into an argument with anyone about their attendance or lack thereof at the tournaments, and she was afraid staying too long would do just that.

---

After lunch Bobbi drove herself to the library. Anne had reserved them one of the tiny rooms in the back and Bobbi was grateful to find her friend was already there and logged onto the computer.

“Hey,” Anne greeted, looking up when Bobbi set her bag down on the table.

“Hey.” Bobbi opened her backpack, offering Anne a chocolate bar. “Spoils of Halloween,” she explained when the other girl gave her a strange look. “I took Kora trick-or-treating and I’m pretty sure I’m going to go into sugar shock before I can finish eating it all.”

Anne accepted the candy with a smile. “How was the trick-or-treating?”

“More fun than I thought it would be,” Bobbi admitted, taking a seat next to Anne so she could look at the computer screen. “I haven’t gone since I was Kora’s age so it was a little weird, but good.” She pulled out her phone and opened her photo album, where there was a picture of her, Hunter, and Kora all smiling toothily at the camera. Bobbi was pretty sure there were now more photos of her in the Coulsons’ backyard than there were of her at her grandmother’s house, which was weird considering she’d only lived with the Coulsons for two months now.

“That’s your boyfriend?” Anne asked, pointing to Hunter.

“That’s him,” Bobbi agreed. “I would’ve taken him to Homecoming but I didn’t know when it was, so…”

“I’ll tell you the next time there’s a school dance,” Anne promised. “Or maybe we could hang out some other time? I think Toe-Head would appreciate having another guy around.”

“You shouldn’t call him that,” Bobbi admonished. Tomas and Anne’s rivalry was all good-natured, but apparently, Melinda was rubbing off on her. “I can ask Hunter, though. He’s busy some weekends because his brother tries to visit from college when he can, but…” Bobbi stopped before she could admit that she and Hunter hadn’t really had friends other than each other at their old school. That made them sound like the clingy kind of couple that Bobbi absolutely loathed.

“We can talk about it at lunch?” Anne suggested. “See when everyone’s free.”

Bobbi agreed readily before turning her attention back to the computer.

“I was thinking we should probably start by making a checklist of everything you need to do,” Anne said. “My mom signed me up for this whole summer course about college applications but I’m guessing you didn’t get that.”

Bobbi shook her head.

“So, checklist,” Anne said, pulling up a Google document. “Go.”

Bobbi pulled the keyboard in front of her and began typing. She needed to file her FAFSA, apply for Ohio’s grant for foster children looking to further their education, apply for the Science Olympiad scholarship, write her admissions essay, ask her teachers for recommendation letters… Once she had the list all written out, Bobbi simultaneously felt more and less overwhelmed. At least she had everything out in front of her, but everything was a lot.

She could start with the easy part, at least — asking Vic and Izzy if she could borrow one of their credit cards for the application fees. Then she needed to figure out whether she was allowed to put down the Hartleys’ address, since that was where she wanted any college-related mail to go, even if that wasn’t where she lived. The other applications would take more work… but that was also what Anne was for.

“How many application essays have you written?” Bobbi asked. Anne was applying to more schools than Bobbi could count, and was a pile of paperwork a mile high.

“Too many,” Anne answered. “But at least I know what a good one looks like by now. I can check yours when you’re done with it, if you want.”

“Sure,” Bobbi said. “I think I’m going to owe you a lot of chocolate bars when this is over.” Even if Anne insisted she was doing all this helping because she wanted to, Bobbi couldn’t help but feel indebted to her. Even growing up without many friends Bobbi could tell Anne was going above and beyond the call of friendship duty here.

“I will accept any and all candy bribery,” Anne grinned. “Though I have to say Starburst are my favorite.”

“If you like the red ones, I think I have about five billion of them from Kora,” Bobbi offered.

“Deal.”

They went back to Bobbi’s application, Anne explaining anything Bobbi didn’t know how to answer. There were a lot of assumptions baked into the system, Bobbi thought as she hovered her cursor over the question about her parents’ education. She didn’t know if her parents had gotten degrees; she assumed they did because of where they worked, but it wasn’t a question she’d thought to ask as a child. She didn’t even know what college was when they died, let alone think about how to get into it.

“You can skip it for now,” Anne said. “Maybe your — uh, is this a GAL thing or case worker thing?”

“Case worker. GAL doesn’t know anything about my parents, just about how long I’ve been in the system and where I am now,” Bobbi answered. “But I had a different case worker before Mr. Gonazles, so he might not know either.”

“That blows.”

“You can say that again.”

“That blows.”

Bobbi smiled, grateful for Anne lightening the mood a little.

“Your parents both went to college?” Bobbi asked as she scrolled further down to the next application question.

“Mom did, Dad didn’t,” Anne said. “Mom got a PhD though so they say it balanced out.”

“Fancy.”

“More like she just didn’t know what to do with one degree. Going to school again is easier than getting a real job.”

“Don’t make me think about that,” Bobbi sighed. Even if she did manage to get into college and got all the scholarships and aid she was applying for, it would still be an uphill battle to be able to afford everything she wanted to do.

“We’ve got time,” Anne promised. “Why don’t we take a break? Work on Science Olympiad stuff instead?”

Bobbi agreed readily. Too much future at once was not a good thing.

---

“You’re back!” Daisy said as soon as Bobbi came through the front door.

“Uh, yeah?” Bobbi couldn’t ignore the twist in her stomach that Daisy thought she wouldn’t come back. The Coulsons had obviously thought she wasn’t that much of a flight risk or they wouldn’t have given her car keys and basically no restrictions other than her curfew, but…

“I thought only Fitz studied for four hours at a time is all,” Daisy said, beckoning Bobbi to the basement door. She set her bag on the kitchen table before following Daisy downstairs and into her foster sister’s room.

“Did you go see Hunter?” Daisy asked once the bedroom door was shut behind them.

“No,” Bobbi said, furrowing her brow. “Why would I?” Because the Coulsons generally seemed to accept her relationship with her boyfriend, it didn’t seem necessary to lie to them about whether or not she was going to see him. If she wanted to spend time with Hunter, she could just tell them she was going to spend time with Hunter — she didn’t need to lie about it.

“Dunno. Just seems more fun that way,” Daisy said with a shrug. “You know, some bad girl shenanigans.”

“I’m not a bad girl,” Bobbi said automatically. She didn’t have the option to be anything less than perfect, or her foster family would have an excuse to ship her back into the system. She liked the Coulsons, and she didn’t want them to have even a sliver of doubt about her or her intentions. Though maybe lying to them about her college search was doing just that… Bobbi shook the thought out of her head. “Do you have a secret boyfriend I should know about?” Bobbi asked.

Daisy flushed. “Uh, no. No boyfriend.”

Bobbi looked her up and down. She got the impression Daisy was telling her the truth, but the blush — that was new. “Do you want to have a boyfriend?”

“Maybe,” Daisy said, stretching out the first syllable longer than was strictly necessary.

Bobbi gave her a look.

“Okay, yes. But he’s kind of oblivious and…” Daisy bit her lip.

“And?” Bobbi prompted.

“My last kind-of boyfriend did not go well,” Daisy said, grabbing her pillow so she could hug it to her chest. “He was a major tool.”

“At least he was only kind of your boyfriend?” Bobbi really was not good at this older sister advice-giving thing. She could deal with Kora being not-straight, because Bobbi wasn’t straight, but as far as bad boyfriends, she was useless. She only had Hunter, and he was about as far from bad as she could imagine.

“I guess.” Daisy hugged the pillow tighter against her. “It doesn’t really matter. Mom made him go away.”

“Made him go away?” Bobbi repeated. Should she be worried Melinda would murder Hunter if anything happened between the two of them?

“It’s a long story,” Daisy sighed. “And that’s kind of why it’s hard with this new guy. Because…”

Bobbi waited for Daisy to finish her sentence, but she never did.

“Because,” Bobbi repeated, “you’re afraid of it happening again?”

Daisy shrugged half-heartedly. “Maybe.”

“Well,” Bobbi said slowly. “You only really have one data point. If all the guys you were into turned out to be jerks or something, then we could be worried. But one bad experience doesn’t mean every experience is going to be bad, right?”

“I guess.” Daisy paused. “It would suck if that happened, you know? If every guy I liked turned out to be evil or — I don’t know, die or something.”

“That would,” Bobbi agreed. “But that hasn’t happened, right? Just one tool?”

“One tool who was a real tool,” Daisy emphasized. “Douchiest douchebag ever to douche.”

“So this new guy,” Bobbi said, trying to turn the conversation back to something a little happier. “What’s his name?”

“Uh, Daniel.”

“His name is uh?” Bobbi teased, poking Daisy’s knee.

“His name is Daniel, don’t be a jerk!”

“And how do you know Daniel?”

“School,” Daisy said. “Where else do I go?”

“Tae kwon do practice. The internet.”

“I think Mom would kill me if I met a boy on the internet,” Daisy said, shuddering dramatically. “I don’t think Daniel even owns a computer.”

Bobbi raised an eyebrow. “What?”

“He hand writes all his assignments,” Daisy said, gesturing emphatically with the hand still not holding the pillow against her. “And he doesn’t have a cell phone.”

“So you can’t ask for his number, huh?”

Daisy’s face paled. “Nope. Nope, I do not ask boys for their numbers. And Daniel’s old-fashioned enough he would probably think I was really weird if I did.”

“I think you might not be giving this guy enough credit,” Bobbi said. She couldn’t imagine a guy being so old-fashioned he’d be offended if a woman made a move — at least not a guy that old-fashioned who Daisy would actually like. “Are you sure you’re not just making excuses for not asking him out.”

Daisy glared. “Whose side are you on?”

“Uh, yours?”

“That’s what I thought,” Daisy said, flopping back. “Therefore you have to tell me it’s okay to keep waiting until Daniel makes a move.”

“It’s okay to keep waiting until Daniel makes a move,” Bobbi parroted obediently.

“That’s what I thought.”

“So if he does ask you out are you going to start sneaking out to see him?” Bobbi asked.

“Mom and Dad aren’t fans of us dating. Fitz says that’s why he won’t ask Jemma out.”

“Oh.”

“They like Hunter though!” Daisy said. “So really you’re doing us all a favor. Just don’t end up pregnant or something.”

Bobbi flushed. “Not happening.” She wasn't sure she believed Daisy's comment about Phil and Melinda liking Hunter, though. They seemed to avoid him more than anything.

“Then you’re a shining example of how teenage romances are actually good for us,” Daisy said. “And then Fitz can ask Jemma out and stop annoying me.”

“And Kora can ask Piper out.”

“They’re like, twelve.”

“They can do whatever twelve year olds do!” Bobbi insisted. “Eat ice cream or whatever.”

“What do you do on dates?” Daisy asked, sitting back up. Her hair was mussed from where she’d pressed it against the bed, and Bobbi smoothed it down carefully.

“Hang out. Talk.” Bobbi shrugged. “It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Kiss?”

“Depends on the date.” Bobbi searched for some nugget of dating wisdom she could give, and only came up with, “You just have to practice.”

“Kissing?”

“Dating,” Bobbi said, exasperated. “All of the how-to articles and whatever aren’t actually that important once you get to know the person.”

“You are the least helpful advice-giver on the planet,” Daisy huffed. “Where’s my step-by-step list?”

“You don’t need a list,” Bobbi promised. “You just need to be Daisy.”

“Well, I think I’m pretty good at that.”

“Yeah,” Bobbi smiled. “You are.”

Chapter Text

Bobbi’s Monday had been going well, which should have been a warning sign. Dr. Cho had agreed to write one of Bobbi’s recommendations for her college application, and Vic and Izzy had enthusiastically agreed to pay the application fee for her. They called it an early Thanksgiving gift, which was silly since they didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving and it wasn’t a gift-giving holiday to begin with, but Bobbi knew they just wanted an excuse so she wouldn’t feel obligated to pay them back. She and her friends from school had all agreed to go laser-tagging that night, which meant in a few hours she would get to see Hunter. Her Monday was going well, which meant it all had to go to shit the moment she walked through the front door of the Coulson’s house.

The first thing Bobbi noticed was that Cap didn’t greet her like he normally did when she came home from school. He had adjusted to Bobbi being the one to give him his afternoon walks, which meant he came bowling into her as soon as he realized she was home. Even when she whistled for him, though, Cap didn’t come to greet her.

The second thing Bobbi noticed was the stray bits of stuffing scattered around the living room floor. She furrowed her brow; the Coulsons knew about Cap’s habit of ripping toys to pieces, so they didn’t normally get him stuffed toys to play with. They hadn’t gone to the pet store any time recently, so unless there was a secret stash of toys she didn’t know about…

The third thing Bobbi noticed, and the one that made the previous two pieces come crashing together, was the mangled scrap of pale blue fabric on the sofa.

Oh no. Oh no, no, no, no.

Bobbi’s knees wobbled when she crossed the room, and her throat tightened as she scooped up the remains of what had once been Birdie.

She couldn’t stop her hands from shaking as she turned the worn fabric over in her hands, and she couldn’t stop the pathetic sob that crawled up her throat as she dropped down onto the sofa.

This was ridiculous. She was seventeen years old and it was a stuffed animal.

But it was her stuffed animal.

Bobbi swiped at her eyes, but that only encouraged the tears to come faster. Damnit. The last thing she wanted was for —

“Bobbi?”

For Daisy to come in and see her crying.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” Daisy asked, sitting down next to her.

Bobbi unclenched a fist she hadn’t realized she made, letting Daisy see the empty fabric shell.

“Um,” Daisy said, obviously not understanding the significance of what Bobbi was holding. How could she? Bobbi kept Birdie in her room, carefully tucked out of sight of everyone else in the house. The Coulsons had given her so much. They’d given a place to stay, food, clothing, books, and anything else she could’ve asked for (even if Bobbi never made a habit of asking for much). They’d given her so much, but they hadn’t given her Birdie.

The sound of nails clicking on the hardwood floor caught Bobbi’s attention, and she looked up to see the offending canine trotting into the room, a bit of fluff still stuck between the toes of his front paws. The shaking of her hands only worsened as something — anger, adrenaline, agony, any other stupid a word Bobbi didn’t want to be feeling — began coursing through her veins.

“Get him away from me.” Bobbi aimed for her words to be flat, emotionless, but that didn’t exactly work with tears trickling down her cheeks and a distinct tremor in voice. Daisy was still too stunned to move, and didn’t stop Cap before he jumped up and began trying to lick at Bobbi’s face. Cap had always been good at knowing when Bobbi was upset, but this time he didn’t know he was the reason she was crying, and the last thing that she wanted was for him to be so close to her.

Bobbi knew it wasn’t rational. She knew Cap wouldn’t have done this on purpose, that it wasn’t really his fault, but…

But he had killed Birdie, and she didn’t want him anywhere near her at least until she had time to stop crying.

She stood abruptly, shoving Cap down when he tried to jump on her before scrambling up the stairs and into her bedroom, slamming the door shut before the dog could follow her. The scrap of fabric she’d managed to save was still cradled in her hands, and Bobbi turned it over carefully as she sat down on her bed with a shuddering sigh.

Tracing her finger around the frayed edges of the fabric didn’t make the situation feel more real. A part of Bobbi was convinced this was a nightmare she was going to wake up from at any minute, because this couldn’t be real.

She couldn’t have lost the only thing she had left of her parents.

Every time Bobbi thought she had herself under control a fresh wave of despair rolled over her, just as sickening as the first time. She couldn’t guess how long it was before someone knocked on her bedroom door. All she knew was her head ached and her throat hurt and her eyes itched, and still the fabric sticking to her sweaty palms hadn’t stitched itself back into the shape of Birdie.

“What?” Bobbi croaked, wishing she had enough control of herself to sound alright even if she wasn’t. It was bad enough Daisy had seen her crying earlier. The entire family witnessing the tail end of her worst emotional breakdown since the first night she’d arrived here wasn’t something she looked forward to.

“Can I come in?” Bobbi didn’t have the energy to parse the tone of Melinda’s voice, and that alone made her seriously consider turning her foster mother away. But then there would be more questions later, and…

“Fine.”

Melinda opened the door slowly, probably giving Bobbi the opportunity to change her mind. She didn’t, though, just slumped her shoulders in resignation when Melinda shut the door behind herself.

The bed dipped when Melinda sat down beside Bobbi, but she didn’t look up or over. She didn’t need a lecture right now.

“Daisy said you seemed kind of upset when you came home from school,” Melinda said. “She said it was something about Cap and one of his toys?”

“It wasn’t one of Cap’s toys!” Bobbi insisted hotly. “It was Birdie!” She gesticulated wildly, only stopping when she noticed a single blue thread loosen and flutter down from the frayed edge of the fabric scrap. Another bout of tears burned at her eyes, and Bobbi rubbed them away furiously.

Melinda didn’t seem to be registering the severity of the situation, and anger began threading through the knot of despair in the center of Bobbi’s chest. “My parents gave her to me,” she warbled, “and your stupid dog tore her up!”

Bobbi still couldn’t make herself look at Melinda. She didn’t want to see her foster mother’s derision. Bobbi already knew it was stupid to be this upset, but having someone else tell her so wouldn’t help. And if not derision, then it would be pity on Melinda’s face, and the only thing Bobbi hated more than being told she was idiotic, it was being pitied.

“I’m sorry,” Melinda said softly. There it was — the stupid pity.

“That doesn’t really matter, does it?” Bobbi snapped. Sorry didn’t undo what had happened.

“Bobbi.” Melinda’s voice was measured. “I understand you’re upset, but you can’t speak to me like that.”

“Then you should leave.” Bobbi wasn’t going to pretend not to be pissed just to spare Melinda’s feelings. She wasn’t going to pretend not to be pissed to spare anyone’s feelings, because if they had just trained their damn dog better then they wouldn’t be in this situation in the first place!

Melinda did as Bobbi suggested, shutting the door behind her. Maybe Bobbi was imagining it, but it seemed like Melinda had shut the door harder than was necessary.

Hopefully no one else would come and bother her now — though there was a distinct chance Phil would come and try to check on her. Maybe he and Melinda would do good cop/bad cop on her. Bobbi had had that happen before. She wasn’t stupid enough to fall for it, though.

Bobbi burrowed underneath her covers, pulling them up over her head so she wouldn’t have to hear if anyone walked past her door. A distant echo in the back of her brain suggested she was sulking, but Bobbi ignored it. So what if she was sulking? She deserved to sulk.

When another knock came at her door some time later, Bobbi prepared herself to yell at Phil to go away, pulling her covers back so she could give him her patented Bobbi Morse glare. When it opened, though, it wasn’t her foster father on the other side.

“Hunter?”

“Hey, Bob.” He slid into the room with a sort of easy grace that shouldn’t have been possible with how gangly he still was. “You still up for laser tag?”

Shit.

“It’s fine if you don’t want to go,” Hunter offered when an answer wasn’t forthcoming. “I, uh, heard what happened.”

Bobbi presented Birdie’s remains to Hunter silently. He took the fabric, raising it to his lips to give it a gentle kiss before perching himself on the edge of the bed so he could drop a similar kiss to Bobbi’s forehead.

“I’m sorry.” Unlike Melinda’s apology, it didn’t feel hollow. Hunter might not have remembered his birth mother, but he desperately wished to have some sort of connection with her. He could only imagine the pain of Bobbi’s connection to her parents being cut, but at least he could imagine it. Moreover, it wasn’t his fault in any way that Cap had gotten Birdie. He was innocent.

“I’ll be okay.” She always was, eventually. This one was probably going to hurt for longer than most, though.

Bobbi propped herself back up to sitting, taking Birdie back from Hunter so she could lay the fabric carefully on her pillow. “Let me get changed and then we can go.” The jeans and scoop-neck shirt she had worn to school weren’t going to work well for laser tag, and they were crumpled from all the time Bobbi had spent on her bed.

Melinda would have something to say about her changing in front of her boyfriend with the door closed, but Melinda’s opinion mattered little to Bobbi in that moment. When she was done she had on leggings and an athletic shirt that would hopefully hold up to whatever laser tag put them through, and Bobbi felt marginally less crappy with a new set of clothes on.

Hunter combed his fingers through her hair, smoothing out the worst of the messiness.

“Are Phil and Melinda still okay with you coming…?” he asked as they stood up.

“I don’t care,” she said flatly. “Let’s go.” She grabbed her bag off the floor before breezing out of the bedroom.

Phil and Melinda were waiting at the bottom of the stairs when Bobbi and Hunter came down, but she ignored them and they seemed to ignore her right back. At the very least they didn’t say anything to her and Hunter, just let them pass. Their silence sat heavy on Bobbi’s chest. She couldn’t breathe until she was in the passenger seat of Hunter’s car, sliding her seatbelt on as they sat in the driveway of the Coulson’s house.

“Are you really going to be okay, Bob?” Hunter asked gingerly. “I mean —”

“Can we just not talk about this, please?” she asked, tears rising with little provocation. She was just starting to feel like a human being again and Hunter was ruining it by making her talk about her feelings. “It’s stupid to be upset about it, I know, I don’t need you telling me that.”

“I wasn’t going to say it was stupid,” Hunter said, affronted. “Birdie meant a lot to you and you mean a lot to me, so —”

“Are you going to drive or not?” she cut him off. “I don’t want to be late.” They wouldn’t be, and she knew that, but she needed an excuse to get him to be quiet.

“Bob —”

“Fine. I’ll drive myself,” Bobbi said, swinging herself out of the passenger seat even more quickly than she’d scrambled in.

“Bobbi, you’re not listening to me,” Hunter huffed, following her down the driveway to where her car was parked on the side of the road. “You don’t have to talk about if you don’t want to, but —” he sighed. “It doesn’t make me feel good when you won’t talk because you don’t think I’ll like what you have to say.”

“So now we’re talking about your feelings?” Bobbi asked, her voice ringing in her ears. She dug her keys out of her bag and clicked the lock to her car, already rounding to the driver’s side.

“Fine. If you don’t want to talk we don’t have to talk, but I’m not going to sit in silence all night because you’re throwing a fit.” Hunter pivoted and began striding back to his car. “Have fun driving back from laser tag in the dark!” he called over his shoulder.

Bobbi froze.

It was going to be dark out when they were done playing laser tag. The sun was already well on its way down, so it might even get dark on the drive there. Bobbi pressed her lips into a thin line, ignoring how her chin trembled with the effort of keeping a straight face. The simplest solution would be to call Hunter back and apologize for picking a fight, but…

But she couldn’t stand another loss today. Maybe it was stupid to think of an apology as a loss, but Bobbi had been doing a lot of stupid things in the last few hours — what was one more?

Hunter revved the engine before waiting a long minute. Bobbi folded her arms over her chest, suddenly more resolute in her decision not to apologize. He backed out of the driveway, his headlights already switched on, and Bobbi waited for him to disappear down the street before getting into the car.

She could do this. She could drive in the dark, and it would be fine. She would be fine. What were the odds anything bad would happen?

What were the odds that anything bad would have happened to her parents?

Bobbi fumbled with her phone before pulling up her text messages with Anne. The last thing her friend had sent her was the address to the laser tag arena, and Bobbi winced at how far away it was.

Hands shaking, she tapped out a message.

[Bobbi]: Can’t make it tonight. Sorry for the last minute notice.

[Anne]: Is everything okay?

[Bobbi]: Not really, no.

[Bobbi]: I’ll tell you about it tomorrow.

She shut off her phone before Anne could respond, then slouched forward, resting her forehead on the steering wheel.

This was stupid. Bobbi was stupid.

She tried to take a deep breath but couldn’t manage it before a sob clawed out.

Crying was stupid, too.

Bobbi didn’t bother trying to calm herself down before climbing out of the car and starting off down the street. She refused to sit in her car and cry. She would be an adult and cry while walking — or running, if she could ever catch her breath.

The streetlights had turned on by the time Bobbi had cried herself out. It was impressive that she’d had that many tears left after all the ones she’d cried for Birdie, but apparently pushing away the only person who actually gave a shit about you had a way of tapping into reserve tears. The headache she’d felt earlier was back with a vengeance. It crept behind her eyes, around the back of her head, and down the back of her neck, digging its claws in more with every passing minute. The cold wasn’t helping, raising goosebumps on her bare arms and sharpening the headache.

Bobbi kept walking, though, not stopping until it was five minutes until curfew. She trudged up the driveway and swung open the front door as quietly as she could manage. She half-expected Melinda and Phil to be waiting for her, but they weren’t. The only person still awake was Fitz, who was sitting on the sofa with his laptop on his lap and a notebook at his left arm.

“You really shouldn’t be walking alone after dark,” Fitz said without turning to look at her.

Bobbi didn’t answer him. She didn’t want to know how Fitz knew she hadn’t left with Hunter like she was supposed to, though Bobbi desperately hoped Melinda and Phil weren’t privy to that information as well. Melinda had never liked Hunter, and now she had an excuse to dislike him.

“There’s leftover spaghetti in the refrigerator,” Fitz continued, scribbling something in his notebook. “I put it behind the milk so Daisy wouldn’t get to it.”

“I’m not hungry,” Bobbi lied. She’d been getting better at having three meals a day since coming to the Coulsons, but despite her growling stomach she couldn’t imagine eating right now.

“There’s ice cream in the freezer,” her foster brother offered.

“Did Phil and Melinda put you up to this?” Bobbi asked, sighing. The last thing she needed today was more pity.

“No.”

Bobbi waited for more explanation, but none came.

She shuffled into the kitchen, wondering if it was really a good idea to eat ice cream when she was already freezing. It probably didn’t matter — she’d be in her warm bed soon anyways. Bobbi pulled a bowl out of the cabinet, silently grabbing another when Fitz appeared in the doorway. He grabbed the ice cream from the freezer and she scooped them both out portions. Fitz didn’t seem inclined towards talking, which worked since Bobbi wasn’t inclined towards listening.

Their spoons scraped against the bottoms of the bowls and they still hadn’t said a word to each other. Fitz didn’t break the silence before leaving the kitchen, just holding his hand up in a salute before trudging out of the kitchen. Bobbi followed after she put the dishes in the sink. As much as she hated to admit it, she probably should’ve gone to sleep hours ago.

When she entered her bedroom, there was a distinct absence of anything Birdie-related. Bobbi pushed down whatever emotion rose in her chest before she even had time to identify it. She needed to sleep — after all, it was only Monday.

Chapter Text

When Bobbi turned on her phone on Tuesday morning, she had three texts: one from Anne reiterating she hoped everything was alright, one from Hunter informing her he had gotten home safely, and one from Melinda reminding her of the 11 p.m. curfew. She didn’t respond to any of them, though her heart did give a pathetic tug at Hunter’s text. Even when she was angry she worried about him — love was inconvenient like that.

She couldn’t dwell too long on Hunter’s message, though; she needed to get ready for school. Bobbi hadn’t noticed the night before, but someone (Melinda, she assumed) had taken the shell of Birdie out of her bedroom. She didn’t know whether to be grateful or angry. Grateful, because it meant she didn’t have to see it again and risk another meltdown. Angry, because she hadn’t even gotten a choice, or to say goodbye.

Instead of choosing which to feel, Bobbi did what she did best, and shoved it all down.

Everything threatened to come bubbling back out when she recounted a simplified version of the story to Anne, glossing over just how much it had hurt to lose Birdie in favor of focusing on her subsequent scuffles with her foster mother and Hunter. Her friend was sympathetic, as she always was, but Bobbi found even talking about what had happened didn’t make her feel better. If anything hearing in her own words what she had done tightened the drawstring tied around her heart. Stupid, the voice in her head repeated for the thousandth time in the last twenty-four hours.

The voice still hadn’t shut up when Bobbi and Daisy came home from school. She had been looking forward to locking herself in her room and sulking while she studied, but Phil and Melinda’s cars in the driveway made a mess of that plan. The only time both her foster parents had been home at the end of the school day was the first day she’d arrived at the Coulsons’ home, and Bobbi’s stomach sank as she trudged up to the front door, Daisy a half-step behind her.

Bobbi’s suitcase wasn’t by the front door and Mr. Gonzales wasn’t waiting for her in the living room, but Bobbi didn’t let her hopes get too high. Phil and Melinda beckoned her over to where they were both sitting at the kitchen table. If they weren’t eating dinner, the kitchen table meant they were going to have a serious conversation. A serious conversation like our home isn’t the bet fit for you. Bobbi had had that conversation before.

Our home isn’t the best fit for you was code for we don’t want you anymore. She had known that when she was eleven and she knew it even better now. Bobbi squared her shoulders as she walked into the kitchen, her jaw and fists both clenched.

“How was school?” Phil asked when she sat down.

“Fine.” Bobbi stared straight ahead; she didn’t want to look at Phil or Melinda right now.

“You sound upset,” Phil said mildly.

Can we just cut to the part where you kick me out? Bobbi wanted to snap. Instead, she shrugged. “I’m not upset.”

“You know we’re never going to be mad at you for telling us how you feel, Bobbi,” Melinda said gently. “I’m sorry if our conversation last night made you think otherwise.”

“It’s fine.”

“I think we all know it’s not fine, kiddo,” Phil said. “You’re going through a tough time right now and it seems like you’ve been bottling up a lot of your feelings.” He paused like he was expecting Bobbi to respond, but she didn’t. “I know the court hasn’t mandated any therapy for you, but Melinda and I think it might be good for you to see someone anyways.” Another pause, another non-response. “We’ve set up an appointment for you on Saturday evenings.”

That was enough to get Bobbi to talk. “You’re replacing movie nights with therapy?” she asked, hurt. Stupid. He never wanted to spend time with you in the first place.

“Not replacing,” Phil assured her immediately. “We’ll have dinner together as a family, I’ll take you to therapy, and then we’ll come home and watch our movie.”

“This isn’t a punishment, Bobbi,” Melinda added. “We just want you to have someone to talk to.”

“Fine,” Bobbi repeated. “I have to take Cap for his walk.”

“You don’t, actually,” Phil said before Bobbi could make her escape. “Fitz volunteered to take dog duty for a little while.”

“It would be normal if you were angry at Cap after what happened, even if it wasn’t his fault,” Melinda interjected. “But it wasn’t your fault either, and you’re allowed to have time to be angry.”

“It was my fault,” Bobbi said, turning to face her foster mother for half a moment before she dropped her gaze to her hands resting on the table. “I must’ve left the door to my room open, and that’s how he got in.”

“You don’t know that,” Melinda said, steady as she always was. “And even if it was your fault, you’re still allowed to be angry.”

“It’s stupid,” Bobbi mumbled, giving voice to the thoughts that had been plaguing her all day.

“Look at me.”

Bobbi looked up, barely able to meet Melinda’s gaze.

“It is never going to be stupid to let yourself feel things, Bobbi.” Melinda’s eyes were dark and deep and unfathomable — it took every ounce of Bobbi’s strength not to look away. “The key is not to waste your energy holding onto feelings that don’t help you anymore. It’s okay to be angry and it’s okay to be hurt, but eventually that’s going to eat you alive if you don’t learn how to let go.”

Bobbi tried to speak, but her words kept sticking in her throat, so she just nodded.

“Daisy also went to see the therapist we’re taking you to,” Phil said after a long pause. “If you’d like someone else’s opinion on him.”

Bobbi nodded again. “May I be excused?”

Phil and Melinda nodded in unison. Bobbi had never been more grateful to exit a conversation. They hadn’t said they didn’t want her — but they also hadn’t said they did.

---

After dinner Bobbi did the dishes (normally Fitz’s chore, but since he was walking the dog for her she thought it was only fair) and then slunk down to the basement and Daisy’s bedroom. As soon as she approached the bedroom door she knocked, worried that she’d lose her nerve if she lingered too long.

“Come in!”

Bobbi blinked when she found not only Daisy on the other side of the door, but Fitz and Kora as well. Fitz perched in Daisy’s desk chair and Kora sat at the foot of Daisy’s bed. Daisy herself was sprawled on the floor, close enough to the door that Bobbi could reach out and touch her if she wanted.

“Sorry, am I interrupting?” Bobbi asked, already backing away.

“No, no, you’re good,” Daisy insisted. “We were just doing our Thanksgiving planning.”

“Thanksgiving planning?” Bobbi repeated.

“Everyone comes home for Thanksgiving so we shuffle bedrooms around so there’s places for everyone to stay,” Kora piped up. “We have to negotiate.”

Fitz nodded. “I’m not sleeping on the couch again.”

“But, Fitz —”

“Three years in a row, Daisy! Three years!”

“Kora could sleep with me,” Bobbi offered tentatively, not mentioning they had already shared a bed once and survived it.

“Technically illegal,” Daisy said, flipping over from her stomach to her back. Kora caught Bobbi’s eye before immediately averting her gaze. They both knew the rules about foster children sharing beds with adopted or biological children — basically, that it wasn’t permitted — but Bobbi certainly hadn’t remembered it in the middle of the night when her foster sister had been upset. She wanted to tell Kora it was fine, but that seemed impossible right now.

“Right now we’re thinking sleepover in my room. Fitz takes the bed, Kora and I get sleeping bags, we all have fun.”

“Cool,” Bobbi said, leaning against the door frame. Sleeping on Daisy’s floor for Thanksgiving weekend wasn’t appealing, exactly, but Bobbi couldn’t help the sadness winding up her throat. Her previous foster homes hadn’t had any other children so the restrictions placed on her as a foster child hadn’t been as obvious, but now they were. She couldn’t do something as simple as have a sleepover in her foster sister’s room because it broke a rule, and it sucked.

“I’m assuming you didn’t come to talk about Thanksgiving,” Daisy said, tilting her chin back so she was looking at Bobbi, albeit upside-down. “What’s up?”

“It’s nothing,” Bobbi said. She had wanted to ask Daisy about the therapist, but not when there was an audience. “We can talk about it later.”

“Kora and I were just going,” Fitz said abruptly, pushing himself out of Daisy’s chair.

“No we —”

“Yes we were,” Fitz interrupted. Bobbi appreciated the attempt at tact, but Fitz was not as tactful as he imagined himself to be. He practically dragged Kora out of the room, which just made everything more… awkward.

“Mom and Dad had the therapy conversation with you?” Daisy asked, clambering to her feet and reaching to shut the door behind Bobbi.

“They told you about it?”

“Nah,” Daisy said. “But we all have the therapy conversation at some point. You were overdue.”

“Phil said you’d gone to this therapist?” Bobbi prompted.

“Dr. Garner?”

“They didn’t tell me his name.” Or anything about him, really, other than that Bobbi would be seeing him on Saturday evenings for the foreseeable future.

“Assuming it is Dr. Garner,” Daisy said, flopping down onto the bed, “I think you’ll like him.”

Bobbi raised an eyebrow. She didn’t often like therapists, but that was partially because going to therapy had never been a voluntary experience. This wasn’t voluntary either, but if she dug her heels in and refused to go, at least Phil and Melinda wouldn’t get in trouble with the state.

“He’s not like other therapists I’ve had,” Daisy insisted. “I’m not going to say he’s cool or anything, but I always felt like he was listening to me, at least.”

Bobbi pursed her lips. Her problem had never been therapists that were willing to listen — it was therapists who were willing to let her talk about what she actually wanted to talk about. They always had a way of circling back to her parents’ death or her aunt’s, which were Bobbi’s least favorite subjects. There wasn’t much more to say other than that it sucked that they died, and it sucked that she was left alone. Twice.

“They’re not going to let you stop going unless they think you gave an honest effort,” Daisy said, beckoning Bobbi onto the bed. When Bobbi sat, Daisy threw her arm around Bobbi’s shoulders. “Which sucks, because I think you shouldn’t have to go if you’re not ready, but I guess there’s a reason they’re in charge.”

“Probably because you’re fifteen,” Bobbi said dryly.

“For now.”

“That is how ages work, yes.” Bobbi leaned into Daisy, sighing. “Only seven more months until I’m in charge, though.”

“You know, Mom and Dad aren’t going to kick you out just because you turn eighteen.” Daisy slid her hand into Bobbi’s lap, tangling their fingers together. “If you want to stay.”

“We’ll see,” Bobbi said noncommittally. Depending on how things went with Hunter she might need a backup plan for after graduation.

“They know you’re applying to OSU,” Daisy whispered. “Dr. Cho called Mr. Gonzales to say how great it was you were pursuing higher education despite your situation. And Mr. Gonzales called Mom and Dad about it.”

Well, shit.

“I probably won’t get in,” Bobbi said, reaching for the first excuse she could think of.

“You’re getting all As in five AP classes. You’re going to get in.” Daisy didn’t sound happy about it, and Bobbi bit her lip to keep from asking why. It didn’t matter what Daisy thought — Daisy didn’t get to decide whether or not Bobbi went to college.

“They look at more than just grades.” Anne had told her that over and over when Bobbi had fretted over her occasionally-spotty grade report. She was too polite to say so, but Anne seemed to think Bobbi being in foster care would give her a leg up because she had a story to tell.

“Yeah,” Daisy said miserably.

“Thanks for telling me they know,” Bobbi said, squeezing Daisy’s hand. The last thing she wanted was to be blind-sided by Phil or Melinda bringing it up.

“They don’t know about your fight with Hunter,” Daisy said. “I swore Fitz to secrecy.”

Bobbi’s throat tightened. “Thanks.”

“You wanna talk about it?” Daisy offered quietly.

Bobbi shrugged. “There’s not much to talk about. I messed up and now he hates me.”

Daisy snorted. “He doesn’t hate you.”

“I just… don’t know what to say to him,” Bobbi admitted. Most of the time when she was speechless around Hunter she didn’t need to say anything at all, but this time was different. It wasn’t fair not to apologize when the scene last night had been entirely her fault, but she didn’t even know where to begin with an apology. Everything she had to say sounded like an excuse.

“You could start with sorry,” Daisy suggested.

Bobbi nodded slowly. Sorry was a good place to start, but as the old adage went, it also was the hardest word to say.

---

[Bobbi]: I’m sorry for freaking out at you last night.

[Bobbi]: I was upset about Birdie and I took it out on you.

[Bobbi]: I love you a lot and I know you take a lot of shit from me but that’s no excuse for how I behaved.

[Bobbi]: I don’t need you to forgive me but I need you to know.

---

Phil was true to his word, and when he and Bobbi got home from her appointment with Dr. Garner he put in the next Star Wars movie they were going to watch. Bobbi checked her phone one last time; it had been days since she’d texted Hunter to apologize, but she still hadn’t gotten a response. Daisy’s faith in him was apparently ill-founded.

She tried not to dwell on that, focusing instead on making the popcorn. She and Phil had taken to trying out flavors other than extra-butter (Melinda had made a comment about eating so much butter being like being stabbed through the heart), and this week it was Bobbi’s turn to choose their flavor concoction. She was debating between adding garlic powder and Italian seasoning when the doorbell rang.

“I got it!” Phil called. Bobbi returned her focus to the popcorn, dumping in a healthy amount of garlic powder before adding salt and pepper to the bowl.

“Bobbi.” Phil stuck his head into the kitchen. “There’s someone here to see you.”

Eight o’clock on a Saturday night was a strange time for a home visit, but Mr. Gonzales was a pretty strange guy. Bobbi rinsed her hands in the sink as quickly as she dared, wiping them dry on her jeans as she approached the front door.

It was not Mr. Gonzales.

“Hi,” Hunter said, shoving his hands into his pockets.

“Hi.” Bobbi glanced behind her before stepping out onto the porch, pulling the door shut so she and Hunter could have some privacy.

“I got your texts.”

“Good.” Bobbi looked down at her feet. “I wasn’t sure.”

“Yeah, I…” Hunter cleared his throat. “I thought maybe we should talk. In person.”

Bobbi braced herself for the inevitable goodbye. It had taken Hunter longer than most, but he had realized that she was too broken to be put back together, too messed up to be loved.

“I wanted to say that I’m sorry, too.”

Bobbi’s head snapped up. That didn’t sound much like goodbye.

“I knew you were upset and I kept pushing when I didn’t need to because I was being dumb and nosy and it made things worse. And I, um… I was being kind of selfish, too, because I wanted to be the one to make you feel better and stuff.” Hunter rocked back onto his heels. “So, yeah. Sorry for being a tosser. You can break up with me now if you want.”

“I can break up with you now?” Bobbi said, dumbfounded. “I thought you were breaking up with me!”

“Why would I break up with you?” Hunter sputtered.

“I don’t know.” That wasn’t true — Bobbi had a whole list of reasons why Hunter would want to break up with her and it had been playing through her head on repeat the past half a week.

“Neither do I.” Hunter offered his hands, palms up, and Bobbi took them. “I don’t want to break up with you, Bob. I just want you to know what happened on Monday wasn’t just your fault.”

Bobbi didn’t know what to say, so instead she leaned forward and kissed Hunter gently.

“Do you want to come in?” Bobbi asked when she stepped back. “Phil and I were about to watch some Star Wars.”

“I can’t.” Hunter winced. “I’m kind of grounded.”

“Kind of?”

“Okay, I am grounded,” Hunter corrected. “I punched a wall when I got home.”

“Of course you did,” Bobbi sighed.

“You don’t need to say it like that,” Hunter muttered, his poorly hidden smile betraying his amusement.

“If you’re grounded, are you allowed to be here?”

“Technically? No.”

“Hunter!”

“The plan was to leave as soon as we finished talking,” Hunter said. “Only trouble is you make it very difficult to stop talking to you.”

“Go home,” Bobbi said, even though everything in her wanted to beg him to stay. “And text me when you’re un-grounded, okay?”

“Okay.” Hunter pulled her into a tight hug, squeezing every bit of anxiety and fear from the last week out of her. “Love you.”

“Love you too.” Bobbi forced herself to let go of Hunter, standing on the porch until the chill of the air chased her back inside.

“Everything okay?” Phil asked when Bobbi walked into the living room.

“Yeah.” Bobbi crossed her arms over her chest, hugging herself. “We had a fight earlier and he wanted to talk.”

Phil nodded understandingly as Bobbi settled onto the couch next to him. He waited for her to be comfortable, then started the movie.

“Phil,” Bobbi said about ten minutes later, “are you and Melinda mad at me because I’m applying to OSU?” She hadn’t gotten much out of her first therapy session, but Dr. Garner had told her she had a habit of assuming how other people felt without evidence. She had been more focused on that tidbit vis-à-vis her relationship with Hunter, but it was occurring to her she did a fair bit of assumption in her relationship with Phil and Melinda too.

Phil looked away from the screen. “I can only speak for myself, but I’m not mad at you.” He drummed his fingers on the edge of the bowl of popcorn, choosing his next words carefully. “I am a little disappointed you felt like you had to hide it from us.”

Bobbi nodded slowly, processing the information. She had a hundred excuses to offer, but she wasn’t sure any of them would be helpful right now, or even true.

“It’s been a while since we helped Trip and Mack apply to college but I remember there being a lot of paperwork. I imagine it’s pretty hard to do that all on your own.”

“I haven’t been doing it on my own,” Bobbi said. “Anne’s been helping me.”

“I see.”

“I’m not good at asking for help,” Bobbi mumbled.

“Few people are,” Phil said. “Melinda and I will respect if you don’t want us involved in applying for college, but if you do ever want or need us, we’re here for you.”

“Thanks,” Bobbi said quietly. Then, even more quietly, “I’m sorry.”

“You’ve got nothing to apologize for, kiddo.” Phil smiled softly. “You’re doing the best you can.”

Chapter Text

Bobbi couldn’t hear anything over the blood crashing in her ears.

Answer the question.

She opened her mouth, but nothing came out. She had spent the whole morning mentally making a list for precisely this moment, but every memory had erased itself, leaving her mind blank and her mouth hanging open.

“It’s okay, kiddo, you don’t have to —”

Bobbi didn’t hear the rest of what Phil said, pushing her chair back from the kitchen table and bolting for the back door. If she had been able to speak she would’ve made an excuse like I need some air, but as it was she could barely think, let alone excuse herself.

What are you thankful for?

It should have been an easy question to answer, Bobbi thought as she collapsed onto the porch swing at the back of the house. Her whole situation could’ve been a lot worse, and she was being downright ungrateful. But with the entire Coulson family staring at her, Bobbi couldn’t squeeze out the one thing she was sure everyone wanted to hear: I’m thankful for all of you.

Maybe if the circumstances had been better she would’ve been able to say it, but there was no worse day than the day before Thanksgiving to learn you were officially a ward of the state. As much as she tried to focus on everything she did have, Bobbi’s mind kept pulling back to the one thing she didn’t: a family.

It wasn’t the Coulsons’ fault. It wasn’t their fault the court moved painfully slow and her nana’s parental rights were severed the day before Thanksgiving. It wasn’t their fault they wanted to celebrate a day of thankfulness with all of the people they were thankful for. It wasn’t their fault, but that didn’t help Bobbi’s heart hurt any less when she looked at them and knew they all were thankful for the one thing she would never have again.

Bobbi scuffed at the ground, the porch swing lolling back and forth with the force of the kick.

The day had started out so well, too. She’d gotten up early, eaten breakfast with Trip, helped Melinda prepare for the evening meal, watched the Thanksgiving Day Parade snuggled up next to Kora, and even managed to have an entire conversation with Mack and Elena without feeling awkward once. It had started so well, but just like every other good thing, it’d been snatched from her in one terrible instant.

The creak of the swing kept her company as Bobbi stared out at the backyard. Her hope had withered and died like the brown leaves and brown grass, and everyone else’s happiness was the blue sky above, close enough to see but never to touch or have for herself.

The back door opened and Bobbi looked over on reflex. She’d come up with a hundred excuses in the fraction of a second before she realized it wasn’t Phil or Melinda who had come out to see her — it was Mack.

“Mind if I sit?”

Bobbi shook her head wordlessly, looking down at her hands when Mack sat down beside her. She flinched when he draped a throw blanket around her shoulders; she hadn’t even registered the blanket, or that he’d brought it out for her sake.

“It’s a little cold out,” Mack commented.

Bobbi nodded. She had taken her sweatshirt off when she’d helped Melinda with the cooking, but that had been when she was inside in the warm kitchen.

“You can go back inside now,” Bobbi mumbled when Mack was still sitting beside her a minute later. If he only wanted to make sure she didn’t freeze to death his job was done.

“Do you want me to go back inside?”

Bobbi rolled the question back and forth in her mind, surprised by the difficulty of finding the answer. “I don’t want to keep you from everyone else,” she said eventually.

“You’re not keeping me,” Mack answered. “I’d rather be out here with you, if that’s okay.”

“Why?” Bobbi blurted.

“Because I want to be,” Mack said. “And because I remember what it was like to have holidays while in care, and how angry it made me when everyone else was telling me I should be thankful because I was surviving.” He paused. “I always wanted more than that, but…” He took a bracing breath before continuing, “Elena’s pregnant, and it’s made me realize more than anything how little I want my kid to have to worry about survival. I want to give them more.” Mack paused, letting them both chew on the thought. “It’s easy to be thankful for the easy things when you have hard things too. But when the so-called easy things are all you’ve got and they don’t seem easy at all…” He paused again, longer this time.

“I guess what I’m trying to say is that it’s okay you’re not thankful for just surviving when everyone around you is living,” Mack finished. “You’re not selfish for wanting more, even it feels that way right now.”

Bobbi swallowed hard, ducking her head so she didn’t have to look at Mack. Everything he said was exactly right, even if she hadn’t had words for it. The rest of the Coulson family didn’t take the food and the house and the other bare necessities for granted, but they also had so much more than that. Bobbi did, too, but most of what she had didn’t belong to her. Everything was dependent on someone else.

Cautiously, as if she was a frightened animal that might spook, Mack wrapped his arm around Bobbi’s shoulders. She wasn’t sure which of them was more surprised when she leaned into him, resting her head on his chest.

“I’m going to be in care until I age out,” Bobbi admitted quietly. “I found out yesterday.”

“No wonder you’re having a hard time being thankful.” Mack adjusted the blanket around Bobbi’s shoulders, wrapping it closer around her. “That sucks.”

“It does,” Bobbi agreed. “This whole year has kind of sucked.”

“You know, you can tell Mom and Dad if you don’t feel like celebrating something,” Mack said carefully. “The last thing they want is for you to be upset. Especially over something like Thanksgiving.”

Bobbi shrugged. “Melinda had already gotten the turkey.”

“I think your happiness means more to them than a turkey,” Mack scoffed.

“It’s not just the turkey,” Bobbi sighed. “It’s… I’ve already taken so much of what’s normal from everyone. I didn’t want to take any more.”

“Normal changes all the time,” Mack said. “My normal’s going to change in May when the baby comes, but that doesn’t need to be a bad thing. I’d even argue it’s a good thing, because all the love they’re going to bring will be worth the changes.”

“Babies and foster kids are a little different.”

“Not as different as you might think.”

Bobbi shrugged again.

“If you’re not comfortable talking to Mom and Dad about this kind of thing, you know you can talk to me, right?” Mack said. “That’s what big brothers are for.”

Bobbi didn’t protest that he wasn’t really her older brother, but didn’t offer any agreement either.

“Bobbi…” Mack trailed off. “If it helps, think of it as giving me practice for when I’m a dad. You’re helping me out.”

“I doubt your kid will ever get as messed up as me,” she mumbled.

“You’re not messed up,” Mack said, rubbing a hand up and down her arm soothingly. “You’re just someone who’s had a lot happen to her.”

Dr. Garner had said something similar the last time they’d spoken; chances were Mack had also gone to the therapist (or at least a therapist) at some point, and that was how he knew what to say.

“I don’t normally mind holidays,” Bobbi offered after a long pause. “It’s just everything else that happened that made this one hard.”

“That’s good to know,” Mack said. Bobbi couldn’t detect anything but sincerity in his voice, which relaxed her slightly; there was nothing she loathed more than people saying they wanted to know how she really felt and then being upset with the results.

They lapsed into silence, the slow sigh of the swing filling the silence as Mack rocked them back and forth with his foot.

The back door opened again and Trip poked his head out. “Y’all want pie?”

Mack looked to Bobbi, who shrugged. Her stomach grumbled but she probably couldn’t get away with just eating pie for Thanksgiving.

“We’ll be in in a minute,” Mack said. Trip nodded, retreating back inside.

“Mom and Dad are going to want to talk to you about what happened,” Mack warned as he removed his arm from around Bobbi’s shoulders. “If you’re not ready for that, say the word and I’ll tell them to back off.”

“It’s fine,” Bobbi said, adjusting the blanket-cape nervously when she stood. “I’d rather get it out of the way.”

“Okay.” Mack hesitated before reaching out to Bobbi again, pulling her into a half-hug. “It’s gonna be okay, kid.”

God, she hoped so.

---

At half past midnight, Bobbi was still awake, staring at the ceiling.

She’d tried everything to fall asleep but the discomforted squirming in her stomach hadn’t subsided since she’d come back inside after her panic. Despite Mack’s warning, Phil and Melinda hadn’t tried to talk to her at all. Neither had anyone else. It was almost like nothing had happened, which somehow was worse than someone yelling at her for what she had done. At least when someone yelled she could yell back, and then they wouldn’t be stuck in this awful, fragile silence that sucked the joy out of everything.

Bobbi sighed, rolling over for the hundredth time. Her normally comfortable pajamas itched at her skin and neither side of her pillow could bring her any coolness or sense of relief. Time stretched on and on and on, the red numbers of her alarm clock blinking at her from across the room and counting down the minutes until she had to face her foster family again. She wanted to stop, to rewind time and redo the day over again. This time, she would say the words even if they killed her.

“I’m thankful for all of you,” Bobbi said into the dark, if only to prove to herself she could say them. Her stomach clenched, though, something that wasn’t quite nausea rolling through her. She was thankful, but —

But —

But, like Mack said, she wanted more. She wanted to be downstairs with the rest of her foster siblings, cuddled close because no stupid rules could keep them apart. She wanted to be on the couch and sit next to someone without being afraid they would push her away. She wanted to be at the kitchen table and keep up with the conversation with ease because she knew all the characters in the story, knew everything there was to know about this family. This family, who wasn’t her family, even if Bobbi was beginning to think maybe she wanted them to be.

And maybe that was a part of why she wished someone, anyone, would get mad at her. You were allowed to get mad at your family, because eventually you would make up. You weren’t allowed to get mad at a guest, though, and that was all she was: a long-term guest whose feelings had to be put above everything else.

She hated it.

It took her another half hour before Bobbi gave up on the pretense of sleep and crept downstairs. Nothing good was on the television at this hour of the night, but she didn’t need good. She just needed something loud enough to drown out her thoughts and fill in a bit of the emptiness in her chest. Now more than ever she missed Birdie desperately; having something to hold onto, however small, would’ve been nice.

She flicked on the shopping channel, turning down the volume until it was barely a hum. A hum was enough, though, and Bobbi closed her eyes, counting her breaths until she fell asleep.

---

“— be careful, Mack, don’t wake her —”

“— it’s fine, she’s still asleep, see —”

“— come back to bed, Mel —”

“— just a little longer —”

“— she’s okay —”

“— love —”

---

Bobbi woke up overheated and disoriented. She kicked her blankets off as soon as she had enough presence of mind to do so, forcing her breathing to slow. Had she dreamt going downstairs, or was coming back up the dream? When she reached for her memories all Bobbi could find was warmth and quiet voices, which didn’t tell her much at all.

She dragged herself out of bed, scraping her sweaty hair up into a ponytail before trudging downstairs to face the day.

The older members of the family were already awake, but her younger foster siblings were nowhere to be seen. Bobbi sighed as she looked at the basement door, wishing she’d had the courage to sneak downstairs and spend the night with everyone else. It wouldn’t have been a good idea, though, not when everyone was still walking on eggshells around her.

“Breakfast?” Melinda asked when Bobbi meandered into the kitchen.

“No, thank you,” Bobbi answered automatically. The corners of Melinda’s mouth turned down and Bobbi ducked her head. She was back to disappointing everyone, and she didn’t like it.

“You feeling okay?” Mack asked, pulling out a chair for her.

Bobbi lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “Fine.”

“Have trouble sleeping?”

“A little.” Bobbi looked down at the table, all too aware of everyone’s eyes on her. “My room is just kind of empty.” Then, realizing that might seem like a plea for more things she didn’t really need, Bobbi added, “It’s fine, though.”

Mack patted her shoulder gently, dropping into another seat and sliding Elena her bowl of cereal. “You wanna come over sometime and we can go shopping together? I need some Christmas gift ideas for the little ones and could use some help.”

Bobbi knew an olive branch when she saw one, and even if she wasn’t looking of a repeat of her first shopping trip with Melinda, she refused to turn Mack down when he was trying so hard. “Okay.”

“Be careful or he may rope you into helping with his damn bike,” Trip laughed. “Man, how long have you had that thing now? Five years?”

“Not all of us have mechanics for best friends, Antoine,” Mack grumbled.

“All of us do have access to the Internet though, Alphonso.”

“Boys,” Melinda sighed, setting three cups of tea on the table. “What sort of example are you setting right now?”

“I’m just giving Bobbi realistic expectations, Mama,” Trip said, taking one of the mugs of tea, “which is part of my job as an older brother.”

“I’m not gonna make her work on the bike unless she wants to,” Mack said. Bobbi couldn’t be sure, but she thought Mack kicked Trip under the table.

“She wants to be a biologist,” Trip said, rolling his eyes. “Last time I checked that doesn’t involve motorcycle engines.”

Bobbi blinked in surprise. How did Trip know that?

“Boys,” Melinda repeated, more sharply than before.

“Sorry, Mama,” Trip said, chastised. “I swear, being back in this house turns me sixteen again.”

“Maybe if you came back more often that wouldn’t be the case,” Melinda said.

“Gotta go where the work is,” Trip shrugged. “Besides, Robbie just bought a house near the garage and I don’t want to move that far from him.”

“How is Robbie doing?” Phil asked, coming in from the kitchen with a plate of pancakes. “Gabe’s in middle school now, isn’t he?”

“Yeah, he is. He’s good. They’re both good.” Trip smiled, and Bobbi studied him closely. Maybe this was just one of those things she didn’t understand because she didn’t know the family, but from what she could piece together, Robbie was the best friend Mack had mentioned earlier — but Trip didn’t seem to be talking about him like a best friend.

Phil slid a pancake in front of her, and Bobbi didn’t have the heart to turn down breakfast a second time. She picked at the pancake with her fingers, letting her mind wander as the rest of the adults continued talking.

Warmth. Quiet voices.

Almost like her dream.

---

“Bobbi?”

She looked up from her phone to see Melinda standing in the open doorway of her bedroom.

“Are Mack and Elena leaving already?” she asked, already standing up to get ready to see them off. Her own disappointment surprised Bobbi, but at least she had Mack’s phone number so she could text him about Christmas shopping.

“They decided to stay for dinner,” Melinda said. “I wanted to talk to you about something else. Can I come in?”

Bobbi nodded, a cold flush spreading through her chest when Melinda shut the door behind her. This was it — the big talk she had been bracing for since she and Mack had returned to the kitchen table.

Melinda sat on the bed, and it was then that Bobbi noticed she had something in her hands.

“I was thinking about what you said at breakfast this morning, about your room feeling empty,” Melinda said. “Am I right when I say you weren’t talking about furniture?”

“Yeah,” Bobbi answered quietly. “It hasn’t been the same since…”

“Since Birdie?” Melinda finished, voice gentle.

She nodded, ignoring the tears prickling at the backs of her eyes.

“I know this isn’t a replacement, but I have a friend who’s been looking for a home for a while.” Melinda offered her hand, and Bobbi took the stuffed panda from her carefully. “His name is Pàng.”

Bobbi inspected Pàng, running her fingers over the well-worn black-and-white fabric. “Did he used to be Daisy’s?”

“No.” Melinda said. “He was mine.”

“He was?”

“He was. My father gave him to me when he and my mother divorced, so I’d have a part of him when I was at my mother’s house.”

“I can’t take him,” Bobbi said, offering the stuffed animal back with a single trembling hand. She didn’t deserve something that meant so much to her foster mother.

“I want you to,” Melinda insisted. “He’s been on a shelf for too long.”

“But…” Bobbi said, searching for an excuse and finding none.

“You can give him back when the room feels less empty,” Melinda suggested.

Bobbi chewed on her lip before she nodded. Borrowing felt better than taking, and it would just be until she got used to not having Birdie around.

“I’ll take good care of him,” Bobbi promised. She didn’t want Pàng ending up like Birdie.

“I know you will,” Melinda said warmly. “And he’ll take good care of you, too.”

Chapter Text

A blast of warmth and cinnamon-scented air hit Bobbi when she stepped through the door of the Hartley house, and she couldn’t help the smile on her face. Her grin only grew when Hunter bowled into her like an overexcited puppy, wrapping her in a hug.

“Happy almost-Christmas!”

“Hunter. It’s still November.”

“It’s after Thanksgiving, so I get to say it’s almost Christmas,” he protested, nuzzling into her hair. “Don’t ruin my holiday spirit.”

“I could never.” Hunter’s excitement about Christmas every year helped Bobbi get excited, too, even if she didn’t like the holiday much for her own sake. “But we do have to think about Thanksgiving for a little while longer.” Anne had decided to host a last-minute Friendsgiving party to use up her family’s leftover turkey, so they needed to be in the Thanksgiving spirit at least long enough to get through the next three hours.

“Fine,” Hunter sighed, melodramatic as always. “C’mon. Mum baked some pies and she’ll have my head if I forget to bring them.”

Two perfect pies cooled on the kitchen counter, which explained why the house smelled like a bakery. “Izzy baked these?” Bobbi asked dubiously.

“I’ve been ordered not to tell you which one of them did,” Hunter said, picking up one of the pie tins. “On the pain of death,” he added. “So unless you want me to die…”

“Please, Lance?” Bobbi stuck her bottom lip out for maximum effect.

“Oh, that’s not bloody fair,” Hunter puffed. “You can’t Lance me when I’ve just told you my mothers are planning to murder me.”

“We are doing no such thing,” Izzy said when she swept into the kitchen. “Yes, Bobbi, I baked the pies. Hopefully they don’t poison your friends.”

“Oi!”

“I just said you couldn’t tell her who baked the pies.” Izzy ruffled Hunter’s hair. “Good job standing up to her, kid.”

“We both know he wouldn’t have lasted another ten seconds.” Bobbi picked up the other pie, grinning. “Thanks for making these. Our pies all got eaten by Friday morning and I’m not sure any more would last.” Even if Trip, Mack, and Elena had all gone back home, there was still more than one ravenous teenager at the Coulson house — not to mention Phil, who Bobbi was certain had snuck at least one midnight slice of pie.

“It’s no problem. It was nice to flex my baking skills.” Bobbi imagined that was especially true since the Hartley family didn’t celebrate Thanksgiving on their own. Hunter only cared about it because of the days off school and the fact he got to start preparing for Christmas when Thanksgiving was done.

“How come I’ve never heard of these baking skills before?” Bobbi asked. She knew Izzy could cook, since she and Vic both took dinner duty during the week, but the birthday cakes and other sweet treats in the house had always been storebought.

“I’ve got to keep you on your toes somehow,” Izzy said, smiling. “And I need this kid to make a good impression on your friends.”

“I’m not gonna tell them I made it,” Hunter said, switching the hand the pie was in so he could dig out his car keys. “I’m not a liar.”

“Ah, but having a talented mother is always a plus when making new friends.”

“I wouldn’t know.” Hunter ducked when Izzy swatted at him, rolling her eyes. “I’ll text you when we’re on our way back, Mum.”

“Have fun. Remember your table manners.”

“Mum!”

“Bye, Iz,” Bobbi laughed, following Hunter out the front door. Once Bobbi was settled in the passenger seat of Hunter’s car she took the second pie from him, balancing them both on her lap and doing her best not to let either of them get squished. The first pie Izzy had made was pumpkin and had only a flat, smooth top. The other, thought, was some sort of berry (or maybe cherry?) and decorated with a delicate lattice that Bobbi didn’t want to crack.

“You remember everyone’s names?” Bobbi asked as Hunter put his GPS on.

“Anne is the friend whose house we’re going to, she’s not dating Tomas even though I might assume they are because of how much they bicker, Alicia and Cecelia are the twins and I can tell them apart because Alicia has shorter hair. Ollie isn’t coming because they spent Thanksgiving at their dad’s house but I should be prepared to smile and nod if they’re brought up because we like them.” Hunter glanced over at her. “Did I pass?”

“With flying colors,” Bobbi said.

“Good, because I studied for that much harder than any of my actual exams.”

“Hunter.”

“I’m just saying I want to make a good impression is all!” Hunter drummed his hands against the steering wheel. “Especially after laser tag.”

“Laser tag wasn’t your fault,” Bobbi said, looking down at the pies on her lap. She hadn’t told any of her friends why she’d bailed other than Anne, and they hadn’t asked, so she doubted it would even come up.

“It wasn’t yours, either.” He reached across the center console to give her hand a squeeze before returning his hands to the wheel and his eyes to the road. “But I still don’t want to mess up what you’ve got going, you know?”

“You won’t mess it up,” Bobbi insisted. “And if you do maybe it wasn’t that good to begin with.” She couldn’t imagine her friends doing anything purposefully to make Hunter uncomfortable or sabotage their relationship. Even Tomas, who could be a bit of a bullhead, wasn’t mean. Just stubborn.

“Just be yourself,” Bobbi said when Hunter began tapping on the steering wheel again.

“Myself doesn’t always make the best first impression, Bob,” Hunter said softly.

“Yes it does.” She wished he wasn’t driving so she could give him the hug he obviously needed. “My family — I mean, my foster family liked you.” Or at least Daisy said they had.

Hunter snorted. “I don’t think Daisy is capable of disliking anyone.”

“I don’t know, she can hold a mean grudge. And Fitz is a grump, too. I think he probably likes you better than he likes me.”

“I dunno, he seemed right pissed I was a Liverpool fan…”

“I just don’t know what to talk to him about,” Bobbi sighed. “I mean, I don’t know anything about engineering and the only stuff I know about soccer —”

“Football —”

“— is what you and Idaho have taught me,” Bobbi continued, ignoring Hunter’s correction. She refused to give in and call it football, just on the principle of it all.

“I can give you a list of boy topics to talk about,” Hunter suggested.

Bobbi cringed. “Boy topics?”

“You know. Birds, balls, b… b…”

“Beignets?” she tried after letting Hunter struggle for a few seconds.

“Beignets, Bob?”

“He likes sweets!” Bobbi defended. “If we have any leftover pie I’ll just feed it to him. He’s like a garbage disposal.”

“We could bake him a pie together?”

“Wouldn’t you think it was a little weird if Idaho and Mike baked you a pie?”

“Well yeah, but it’s pie, so it wouldn’t really matter, would it?”

“We’ll put a pin in it,” Bobbi said, not wanting to reject the idea outright. Maybe she could ask Daisy if Fitz would actually want a pie she baked — Daisy knew him better than she did. “I’m going over to Mack’s house next weekend.”

“Mack? I thought he didn’t like you?”

Bobbi blushed. “It turns out he does. I just…”

“Didn’t want to see it?”

“Something like that,” she agreed. “We talked about it when he came home for Thanksgiving.”

“That’s good, yeah?”

Bobbi’s blush deepened. Why was it so awkward to talk about Mack? Maybe because she’d never had anyone like him before — someone who she believed was on her side, and could actually help if something went horribly wrong. Sure, Daisy and Kora were on her side, too, but if worse came to worse they were just as powerless against their parents as Bobbi was. “Yeah. I, uh… it’s nice to pretend I have an older brother for a while.”

“You can take mine if you want one permanently,” Hunter deadpanned. “He’s an arse.”

“But you love him.” Hunter pretended his brother annoyed him, and maybe most of the time that was true, but the Hartley brothers were happiest when they were together, and they both knew it. Idaho being away for college had only made that more obvious.

“Sure.” Hunter did not sound sure at all.

“I guess right now I’m just focused on Mack,” Bobbi said, since that was the point she was trying to make. The thing about not having many people she trusted was that it was much, much harder to try and let everyone in at once, even if the rest of her foster family was knocking at the proverbial door.

“I get it,” Hunter said. He’d gone through the same thing when he’d met the Hartleys, trying to figure out which of them he could really give his heart to before opening up all the way. “This the house?” he asked, pointing to a big brick house with three cars parked neatly at the curb and two in the driveway.

“I don’t know. I’ve never been here before,” she reminded him. “The address matches.” And yet, her anxiety insisted that it was entirely possible Anne didn’t live there and she was going to make a fool of herself if she rang the doorbell.

Hunter pulled to the front of the line of cars, stopping smoothly so the pies weren’t in any danger of falling. He scrambled out so he could open Bobbi’s door for her, taking the pumpkin pie back so she wouldn’t have to balance both while getting out of the vehicle.

They stopped on the porch together, Hunter a half-step behind Bobbi. She rang the doorbell, bouncing on the tips of her toes for the long thirty seconds before the door opened.

The woman standing in front of her was tall enough to look Bobbi in the eyes, which was noteworthy in itself. It was also noteworthy just how much like her daughter Dr. Weaver looked — they had the same high cheekbones and warm brown eyes, not to mention the same smile.

“You must be Bobbi and Hunter. Come on in.”

“Shoes off?” Hunter asked when they stepped onto the welcome mat.

“If you would, that would be great.”

They both toed off their shoes before following Dr. Weaver into the dining room, where everyone else was already seated.

“You made it!” Anne said, lighting up when she saw Bobbi.

“We did,” Bobbi agreed. “Where should we put these?”

Anne busied herself with moving around other dishes to make room for the pies, and Bobbi set the berry pie down gratefully. Now its fate was out of her hands and if the lattice got broken, it wasn’t her fault. It took another few seconds to make enough room for the pumpkin pie, which Hunter passed to Bobbi wordlessly to put beside its partner.

“Everyone, this is Hunter,” Bobbi said, stepping back and reaching for Hunter’s hand. “Hunter, everyone.”

Hunter ducked his head at the chorus of hellos and Bobbi squeezed his hand lightly. No one had ever described her boyfriend as shy before, but right now it was exactly how he was behaving, all but hiding behind her.

They took the remaining two seats at the table, Bobbi at Anne’s right side and Hunter sitting beside her. Their positions meant Bobbi was face-to-face with Tomas, and Hunter face-to-face with Alicia. Bobbi couldn’t have asked for a better setup; Bobbi liked all of her friends, but Alicia was probably the nicest, aside from maybe Ollie. She would make sure Hunter wasn’t left out of the conversation.

“Now that you two are here we can eat!” Anne announced happily.

“Sorry if we held you up, we —”

“No, Tomas was just already here and, you know, the twins are the twins.” Meaning they always arrived together, on account of sharing a car. Bobbi’s curiosity piqued at Tomas already being at Anne’s place, though; she’d have to ask about it later.

“I wish Ollie could have made it,” Alicia said, serving herself a helping of mashed potatoes. “They would’ve loved those pies, Bobbi.”

“Hunter’s mom made them!” Bobbi said, wincing a little at her own enthusiasm.

“Well be sure to tell her thank you from all of us,” Anne said, accepting the platter of turkey from Tomas when he finished with it. “I don’t think I would trust any of us to make a decent dessert.”

“Hey,” Bobbi said, mock affronted. “I’m passing Home Ec right now, thank you very much.”

“You could pass that class in your sleep,” Cecelia piped up. “That’s what Tomas did.”

“Did not!”

“I didn’t even take Home Ec,” Alicia cut in before it could devolve into a fight. “So you’re miles ahead of me.”

“What about you, Hunter?” Anne asked. “Any baking skills?”

“No,” he answered, still focused on his plate. “I burned myself a lot as a kid so… I don’t like stoves.”

Bobbi reached under the table to give his hand another squeeze. She hadn’t ever pushed Hunter for the details of his foster homes, but from what she understood his second foster home hadn’t been a fun place to be, and not all of the burns Hunter received had been on accident.

“But I can cook enough for the both of us,” Bobbi interjected, hoping to stop them before they went down a dark path. “I just focused more on meals instead of pies and cakes and stuff.” Her nana hadn’t had enough money for frivolities like sweets anyways.

“Makes a mean shepherd’s pie, this one,” Hunter said, nudging his shoulder against Bobbi’s. “Give Bobby Flay a run for his money.”

“Bobby Flay?” Tomas scoffed. “Do people still talk about that guy?”

“Too much, if you ask me,” Hunter answered.

The boys began a discussion about various culinary heroes (Hunter had a crush on Guy Fieri, which was understandable if not a little strange) as the rest of the food made its way around the table. Bobbi was content just to listen to everyone else while she ate her Thanksgiving leftovers turned Friendsgiving lunch. She’d only managed a couple slices of turkey on the day of actual Thanksgiving before turning to the pie, so having the side dishes made the experience infinitely more enjoyable. Hunter seemed confused by some of the elements on his plate, and honestly Bobbi didn’t understand why cranberry sauce was a Thanksgiving staple, either, so she couldn’t blame him.

“How was your Thanksgiving?” Anne asked Bobbi under the chatter of the rest of the table.

Bobbi shrugged a shoulder. “Holidays are weird.”

“Yeah,” Anne said sympathetically. “I figured. I kind of hoped doing a friends thing would be less weird for you than a family thing.”

“It is,” Bobbi agreed. She didn’t have to doubt that her friends wanted her the same way she doubted if the Coulsons wanted her. Even if Anne had started out only being nice to her out of politeness, Bobbi couldn’t find a reason they would still be talking to each other if they weren’t really friends.

“Did you finish all your college apps?” Bobbi asked, hoping Anne caught on to her not-so-subtle subject change.

“Mm hmm,” her friend hummed. “Now I’m just working through scholarship stuff.”

“Scholarships are dumb,” Bobbi muttered. She’d spent some time over the last week looking for scholarships to apply to in case her application for the state grant didn’t go through, but they were all so unnecessarily complicated. Why did she need to write four essays for a chance at a couple hundred dollars?!

“They are.” Anne gave a heavy sigh. “When we’re adults we’re going to make college affordable, right?”

“Oh, totally.” How they’d be able to do that as biologists Bobbi didn’t know, but if anyone could figure it out, it would be Anne.

“You know, you could just move to Europe and take advantage of the public education system there,” Hunter said. “I reckon I could get citizenship still.”

“I’m not sure about that.” One of Hunter’s foster families had been British and he’d stayed with them long enough to pick up and keep the accent, but Bobbi was fairly certain that the requirements for citizenship (and getting the reduced prices of European schools) were a bit more rigorous than that.

“We could try,” Hunter insisted.

“Canada might be easier,” Alisha said, twirling her fork around in her fingers. “Closer, too.”

“Yeah, I don’t think Izzy would be happy with you running off to England,” Bobbi said, nudging Hunter’s foot under the table. “Vic, maybe…”

“Oi! Both of my mothers love me very much, thanks!”

“I know,” Bobbi said, leaning into Hunter. How nice it was, that she was able to tease her boyfriend about his family and have it be met with teasing indignation instead of genuine fear he was unwanted. It hadn’t always been that way, but now… Bobbi couldn’t help the smile that crept onto her face. Even if she would never have what Hunter did, it was nice to know that it was possible for people to escape the foster care system with their hearts intact. Maybe she would, too. Not in the same way, since she wasn’t going to get adopted, but she would age out with people who were on her side — Hunter, her friends from school, even the Coulsons.

If she was thinking about it, Bobbi probably would have felt something at the realization she had finally felt thankful for something after struggling with it for so long. Bobbi wasn’t, however, thinking about her hopes and fears and dreams, because Anne had just offered to serve the pie, and well —

Very few metaphysical concerns were more important than pie.

Chapter Text

Bobbi had almost talked herself out of going Christmas shopping with Mack a dozen times. He had invited her to come with him entirely unprompted, so logic would dictate that he did want her there, but Bobbi had a hard time shaking the feeling that he was just doing it out of some sense of obligation to his parents and not because of any desire to spend time with her. She’d had a long conversation with Pàng about it, and then felt ridiculous because she was talking to a stuffed panda about her problems. Dr. Garner would probably tell her it was a good thing she was talking about her problems with anyone, even if that anyone was an inanimate object. Then he would remind her that she could only know how people felt about her by what they said or did, and Mack had never said or done anything that would indicate he really didn’t like her. It was all in her head.

(Or maybe it wasn’t, but that was just the anxiety talking.)

In any case Bobbi hadn’t canceled her plans with Mack, and instead stood on his doorstep waiting for him to answer the doorbell.

Elena answered the door, face breaking into a smile when she saw Bobbi. “Mack! Bobbi is here!” she called over her shoulder, beckoning Bobbi inside.

It hadn’t been warm by any stretch of the word since August, but the first real cold snap had hit Ohio and Bobbi was grateful to step out of the below-freezing temperatures and into the heat of the house. She stripped off her hat and scarf once she was inside, tucking them both under her arm as she looked around curiously.

Mack and Elena’s home wasn’t nearly as large as Mack’s parents’, but it had a warmth to it that Bobbi couldn’t say she had ever felt in the larger Coulson house. Maybe it was just because of the literal warmth, but there was also something else there — the photos on the walls, the colorful crocheted blankets thrown over the back of a well-worn recliner, the potted plants crouching on every available surface, the low ceilings and the narrow hallways… they all made the space feel like a home instead of just a house. It was cozy.

“How’s your week been?” Elena asked, leading Bobbi down the hallway and into the kitchen. She gestured Bobbi into one of the chairs at the small kitchen table and sat across from her.

Bobbi shrugged. Truthfully, it wasn’t a great week. She didn’t like going back to school after a break, she didn’t like how dark it was in the morning when she drove herself and Daisy into school, didn’t like how stressed everyone on the Science Olympiad team was preparing for their first real competition in January… But all of those were minor concerns, and she had already done enough complaining in Mack’s earshot.

“Hey,” her foster brother said, appearing from where Bobbi assumed was his and Elena’s bedroom. He shrugged on a long black leather duster that gave him an air of authority at odds with the too-small Santa hat perched on his head, and Bobbi couldn’t help the startled laugh she let out.

“It’s a look,” Mack defended before she could comment. “I gotta practice my Santa impression, right, Elena?”

“Right,” Elena said, patting his forearm in a way that was someplace between patronizing and affectionate. “Mack’s going to be Santa Claus at church this year. He’s very excited.”

“Maybe buy a bigger hat,” Bobbi suggested, standing and shoving her own hat back onto her head. “Your ears are gonna freeze.”

“C’mon, now, I don’t need two of you bugging me about dressing warm.” Mack produced a real hat from one of the pockets of his duster, though, throwing the Santa hat onto the kitchen table. “We’ll be back in time for dinner.”

“Bobbi, you want to eat with us?” Elena asked, not missing a beat.

“Oh — um, I’d have to ask Phil and Melinda, I think they’re expecting me home…”

“I can call them while you’re out,” Elena offered. “If you’d like to say.”

“If it’s not too much trouble…” Bobbi hedged.

“It won’t be any trouble at all,” Elena insisted. “It will be nice to have someone to try my recipes out on who doesn’t have to pretend to like them.”

Bobbi barely concealed a snort. Somehow she didn’t think Mack got away with many lies in his house. Not that she thought he lied often to start with, but with someone as quick as Elena, any sort of lie would be hard to slip past her.

“I’ll text when we’re on our way back,” Mack promised, leaning to kiss the top of Elena’s head. “Don’t tire yourself out.”

“Impossible, Turtle Man.”

---

“Okay,” Mack said as they pulled into the parking lot of the shopping center, “I’m trusting your expert opinion and closer proximity to everyone for good gift ideas. Yell at me if I’m about to buy something dumb.”

“I don’t yell very often,” Bobbi said, ducking out of the car and shutting the door with a thump. “I can tell you nicely you’re about to buy something dumb, though.”

“That works, too,” Mack agreed. “Bookstore first?”

Bobbi nodded. She’d spent a fair amount of time researching books that would interest Fitz, and while they’d all been available on Amazon, she liked the bookstore in the shopping center better. Their website claimed they had the book in stock, so it was a good place to start.

“Do you think I need to get a Christmas gift for Trip?” Bobbi asked, holding the door of the bookstore open for Mack as he stepped inside. “I mean, I don’t know anything about him. Like, at all.”

“No one is expecting you to get them a Christmas present,” Mack promised. “Mom and Dad nearly had a fit when I told them I was taking you Christmas shopping because they didn’t want you to feel pressured.”

Bobbi frowned. “But I love Christmas.”

“They don’t know that,” Mack pointed out. “Where to?”

Bobbi pointed to the science section, falling into step beside Mack as they crossed the main floor of the store. “I guess after the Thanksgiving debacle they don’t really trust me around holidays, huh?”

“I think it just made them realize they’d made a lot of assumptions about what you would or wouldn’t be okay with.” Mack stopped when Bobbi did, and she began squinting at the spines of the book while Mack continued talking. “It’s been a while since they had a new kid, and with everything… I think they worry they’re doing everything wrong.”

“Well I’m still alive, so they must be doing something right,” Bobbi said. She found the book she wanted to get Fitz, handing it to Mack for his approval.

“You know they want more than you just being alive,” Mack said, not looking down at the book. “We all want that.”

Bobbi shrugged. “I guess. But it’s not like they need to put that much energy into me. Seven more months and I’m out of everyone’s hair.”

“You really have a countdown, huh?” Mack finally looked down at the book she had picked for Fitz — The Disappearing Spoon. It was a book about the periodic table, which seemed suitably nerdy for Fitz. “I think he’ll like this,” Mack agreed, handing it back to her.

“What do you mean, I really have a countdown?” Bobbi said, tucking the book under her arm.

“Daisy mentioned it a couple weeks back. I thought she was being figurative, but you literally are counting down.”

“Wouldn’t you?” Bobbi asked, trying her best not to get defensive. “I’ve spent the past six years being passed around like a hot potato and soon it stops, permanently. I can get my own place, or move in with the Hartleys, and then…”

“You finally get something permanent,” Mack finished softly. “Yeah, I get it. I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to apologize,” Bobbi mumbled, scuffing at the carpet. He hadn’t even said anything wrong — just something that hurt her feelings more than she’d like to admit. “I’m gonna look around and see if they have any shark books for Kora. If you need to get any books or anything?”

“I was thinking of getting a book for Fitz.” Mack paused. “Meet back here in ten?”

“You got it.” Bobbi wandered down the rest of the science section, looking for anything suitably shark-y for Kora. Mack appeared behind her, having apparently found the book he wanted to get for Fitz.

“I might just leave it for now,” Bobbi told him after a minute more of looking. “None of these look like books Kora would have fun with.” Maybe she could write The Disappearing Spoon guy and ask him if he was interested in researching a shark book. It wouldn’t be finished in time for Christmas, but maybe next year.

Next year, when she probably wouldn’t be speaking to Kora, let alone getting a Christmas gift for her.

“We have plenty more stops to make,” Mack assured her. “And we can come back later if you need to.”

Bobbi nodded, fishing her Christmas gift list out of her coat pocket so she could cross off Fitz’s gift and add a note next to Kora’s. “Do you need to get anything else here?”

“I took a look to see if there were any good games for the family game night collection, but nothing stuck out to me. You wanna take a look?”

“Nah,” Bobbi said. Only seven more months until my opinion won’t matter anymore.

“Checkout it is, then.”

Bobbi tucked her Christmas list back into her pockets and fished out her wallet instead. She’d been saving her allowance for weeks to make sure she had enough to get everyone gifts. There was also surprisingly little to spend money on when her foster family bought all her food and clothing and Hunter insisted on paying for whatever activities they did together.

After they paid she and Mack waited near the exit so they could slap back on their various outdoor accessories. They combined their gifts into a single bag so it was less to carry. They were going to wrap together when they got back to Mack’s house anyways.

“Next stop, department store?” Mack asked when they were all bundled up.

Bobbi nodded, straightening her scarf. They needed to take their Christmas shopping seriously if they were going to get done on time — and Bobbi wasn’t going to ruin her first real Christmas in six years by not having all her gifts wrapped and ready.

---

“Honey, we’re home!” Mack called as he and Bobbi stomped through the front door, arms overflowing with bags. They’d ended up going to seven stores total, which already sounded like a lot before considering they’d gotten more than one gift at each store. The only person Bobbi had left to buy for was Mack himself, since she didn’t trust that she’d be able to sneak a gift through the register and wrap it without him noticing.

“Perfect timing,” Elena said, smiling at the pair when she ducked out of the kitchen. “Dinner’s almost ready.”

“Awesome,” Mack said. “Bobbi, we can just set the gifts over here.” He nodded to the same leather recliner that Bobbi had noticed upon first arriving into the house, and Bobbi gratefully set down the bags she had been carrying.

“Do you need any help setting the table, Elena?” Bobbi asked, peeling off her winter jacket. Since she and Mack had been in and out of so many stores she hadn’t bothered taking it off all afternoon, leaving her hot and sweaty beneath the puffy coat.

“The plates are right up there,” Elena said, gesturing to one of the upper cabinets. Bobbi barely had to reach to pluck the plates out of the cabinet, and Elena gave her a soft smile when she began setting them on the table. The table wasn’t built for three, a fact Bobbi hadn’t noticed earlier when it was just her and Elena sitting there. Still, she did the best she could, setting two plates in the corners of the table so they made a sort of triangle before plonking down the third.

“Sorry about that,” Elena said as she passed Bobbi the silverware. “We don’t normally have guests, since Mack’s parents host so often.”

“It’s fine.” Bobbi placed a fork and a knife beside each plate. “It’s cozy.”

“Cozy is a polite way to put it,” Mack laughed, squeezing behind Bobbi and Elena to open the oven, which had just started beeping. “We’re thinking of redoing the kitchen before the baby comes, but Trip’s trying to talk me into just getting a bigger house.”

Bobbi moved out of the way when Mack withdrew a steaming pan out of the oven, not wanting either of them to get burned. “Are you thinking about it? Moving?”

“Trip wants us to move to be closer to him and Robbie,” Elena explained. “Mack thinks that Trip and Robbie should just move back here, but Trip doesn’t want to be too close to your parents.”

Foster parents, Bobbi corrected mentally. “Why not?”

“Something about needing space to stretch his wings,” Mack answered, wedging himself at the corner of the table. “He’s in social work, so I think he’s focused on making sure there are good social workers all over the state, not just in the city.”

“That’s good,” Bobbi said. She paused. “Do you say grace before you eat?” The larger Coulson family didn’t, but Elena and Mack had a wooden cross on one of the walls in their living room and had mentioned going to church earlier, so she didn’t know what to think.

“If you’d like to we can,” Elena answered. “But it’s not required.”

“I’m good,” Bobbi said. “I don’t, uh, really believe in God.”

“That’s alright,” Elena said encouragingly. “We wouldn’t want you praying to something you didn’t believe in just for our sakes.”

“Why do you?” Bobbi blurted as Mack began serving them all food. “I mean… your parents died, didn’t they?” she asked Mack.

“In a plane crash, yeah,” he agreed. “That doesn’t mean I can’t believe in God.”

Bobbi was struck speechless for a moment. She thought she’d had bad luck because her parents died in a car crash, but plane crashes were once-in-a-lifetime kind of weird. “And you’re not mad at God for letting it happen?”

“If I hadn’t gone into the foster care system, I never would have met most of the people that I love today,” Mack answered. “It’s not everything happening for a reason, because I hate when people say that, but I think that God was what allowed me to make something beautiful out of something ugly.”

“I hate it, too,” Bobbi said, stuffing a bite of the chicken dish Elena had made into her mouth. “The everything happens for a reason shit,” she clarified around her mouthful. She was thoroughly distracted for a minute by the food, closing her eyes as the flavors danced across her tongue. It wasn’t that Phil and Melinda were bad cooks — it was just that Elena obviously loved cooking, and whatever she had made was far from the typical Midwestern potatoes-and-meat fare.

“I think I’m supposed to tell you to mind your language,” Mack said blandly.

“You’re my big brother, not my dad,” Bobbi retorted, swallowing. “I’m allowed to curse around you.”

“I think it’s perfectly appropriate to say shit when talking about a lot of what some Christians believe,” Elena added. “I wouldn’t be happy if someone told me God was the reason my parents died.”

“Exactly!” Bobbi said, stabbing another bite to eat with her fork. “I mean. I thought I believed in God, because my parents were Christian-ish, but the whole death thing sucked. And the idea that God wanted it to happen is just so dumb.”

“No one should have told you that,” Mack agreed. “I’m sorry.”

“You apologize too much,” Bobbi said. First at the bookstore, and now at dinner, both over things that weren’t really his fault.

“So do you,” Mack rejoined. “At least I have the Catholic guilt excuse.”

Bobbi couldn’t help the burbling laugh that climbed out of her throat. “Fine, you win this one.” She could argue that being a perpetual foster child was also a cause to develop a guilt complex, but either way Mack beat her out for reasons to be guilty.

Mack grinned at her before taking another bite of his dinner. They lapsed into silence as they ate, and Bobbi found it oddly comforting. She didn’t get much happy silence when she was at the Coulsons’; it all felt awkward. She had been afraid dinner with Mack and Elena would be the same way, but Mack seemed to get her, and Elena was more than happy to follow his lead. Bobbi felt a little silly for ever believing Mack didn’t like her — and more than a little frustrated she had wasted so much time she could’ve spent around someone who understood her better than the rest of her foster family did.

“You ready to wrap?” Mack asked when they had all cleared their plates.

“I can do the dishes first,” Bobbi offered. She and Fitz had switched their chores semi-permanently, and doing dishes for three was a lot less work than doing it for six.

“Nonsense, you’re a guest,” Elena said, shooing Bobbi away from the sink as soon as she’d put her plate and silverware in. “I’ll do the dishes while you two wrap my presents, hmm?”

“But you cooked,” Bobbi insisted. “That’s not fair.”

“Leave the dishes, Yo-Yo,” Mack insisted. “I can get them later. And we need your wrapping skills.”

Elena glared at him. “I am perfectly capable of standing long enough to do the dishes, Turtle Man.”

“I never said you weren’t,” Mack said, blinking innocently down at his wife. “Just that I am not good at wrapping presents and Bobbi deserves a better teacher.”

Bobbi raised her eyebrows. “I’m seventeen. I don’t need someone to teach me how to wrap presents.”

“You’re killing me here, Barbara,” Mack groaned. “Please, Yo-Yo? For me?”

“Fine,” Elena huffed. “But I will be doing the dishes.”

“Whatever you say, sweetheart.”

The trio trooped into the living room, and Bobbi began unpacking all of their gifts while Elena rummaged in the closet for the wrapping paper and gift tags. Bobbi stuck the gifts they had gotten for Elena underneath her coat, trusting Mack would be able to wrap them at a later date.

“When did you two get married?” Bobbi asked, settling on the floor and plucking her first gift out of the stack.

“Right out of college. Backyard wedding, so it wasn’t too much fuss,” Mack answered. “You planning a wedding anytime soon?”

Bobbi blushed a furious red. “No.”

“No?” Mack echoed.

“I mean, we’ve talked about it a little. But never a timeline or anything. We’re still basically kids.” As Izzy and Vic liked to remind them whenever the subject of lifelong commitment came up. Hunter’s mothers were supportive of their relationship, but they didn’t want her and Hunter rushing into anything they weren’t ready for.

“You are,” Mack agreed. “But marrying young isn’t a bad thing if it’s with the right person.”

“I guess it’s like… once you get married, everyone asks about babies, and once you have one baby they ask when you’re going to have another and… I don’t know. I don’t want other people planning out my life for me just because I signed a piece of paper saying I want to be with Hunter forever. You know?”

“Trust me, we got the babies question the minute we got back from our honeymoon,” Mack snorted. He cut the wrapping paper for the present he had picked before handing the roll to Elena. “I think everyone’s going to be disappointed when we tell them this is the only one we plan on having the normal way.”

“We want to foster, too,” Elena said at the look of confusion on Bobbi’s face. “But we’d like to foster older kids and teens, and right now we’re not really in a position to do that.”

“Too young,” Mack agreed. “I like being a big brother, but if we got a kid from foster care I’d want to be more than that.”

“Is there a reason you’re having a bio kid, then?” Bobbi asked. “If you want to answer, I mean.” She was really pushing it on the invasive questions tonight.

“Because we wanted one,” Elena said simply. “We wouldn’t have been devastated if we couldn’t have one, but if we could, we wanted it.”

“I guess it’s hard for me to imagine wanting to have bio children knowing there are so many kids that are already out there who need homes,” Bobbi said. “Also, pregnancy seems like it sucks.”

Elena laughed. “It’s not as fun as they let you believe, that’s for sure.”

“Which is part of why we agreed on only one,” Mack added.

Bobbi nodded. “Can I help? With baby stuff?”

Mack blinked, taken aback. “If you want, I guess. We’re still not doing much yet, since it’s early. But when it’s time maybe you can help paint the nursery?”

“And help me make my checklists,” Elena added. “Pregnancy brain is real.”

“I’ve gotten really good at checklists,” Bobbi said enthusiastically. “I have like five to make sure I don’t forget something for my college applications.”

“So we’ve heard,” Mack smiled. “Mom and Dad are really proud of you, you know that?”

Bobbi’s brow furrowed. “For applying to college?” And keeping it from them?

“For finding a way to make it work for you,” Mack corrected. “I think the word Dad used to describe it was chutzpah.”

Bobbi filed that information away for later examination. “What’s going to take chutzpah is getting everything to the car when we’re done.” Even with only three presents wrapped, Bobbi was beginning to realize her tiny four-door might not fit everything without some finagling. She had more than just the gifts, too, since Mack had helped her pick out some picture frames at the department store so her bedroom walls weren't quite so bare.

“That doesn’t take chutzpah. Just a big brother with strong arms.”

“Yeah, but Trip isn’t here, so…”

Mack threw a roll of tape at her. “Punk.”

“Sure am,” Bobbi grinned.

Elena cackled with laughter, and warmth sat pleasantly heavy in Bobbi’s chest. This was her favorite part of Christmas — happiness and gift wrapping and spending time with people she loved.

(People she loved. She liked the sound of that.)

Chapter Text

Bobbi buried her face in her scarf as she stepped out of the school and was immediately hit with a blast of frigid air. Everyone had hoped they’d get an early dismissal from school for snow, but no such luck. Instead of leaving school early, Bobbi was departing later than usual — Science Olympiad had run long, and she’d need to talk to Dr. Cho about her college recommendations, so it was past four o’clock when she finally left. Despite the relatively early hour the sun was already on its way down, and Bobbi shuddered from more than just the cold. If she didn’t hurry it’d be dark before she got home.

Bobbi waved goodbye to Dr. Cho before bustling to the back of the parking lot, digging her keys out of her coat pocket. Her hands shook but she eventually managed to stab the key into the ignition, anticipating the warmth of the car’s heating system.

When she turned the key, nothing happened.

Bobbi twisted it again, hoping the first time was just a fluke, but… nothing. The engine didn’t even sputter. Shit, shit, shit.

She ducked out of the car, but Dr. Cho had already taken off, leaving the parking lot entirely empty.

Okay. She could do this. Bobbi grabbed her phone, dialing Phil’s number. He had probably been home for a while after getting Fitz from the Academy, so he could come and get her.

Or he could’ve, if he had answered the phone.

That was okay. That was fine. She could just call Melinda.

It was only when her foster mother didn’t answer that Bobbi truly began to panic. Sure, someone would probably notice when she wasn’t home in time for dinner, but the doors to the school were locked and her hands were already going numb from the below-freezing temperatures. She didn’t want to have to wait in the cold until someone realized she was missing.

If someone realized she was missing.

Bobbi gulped, shivering as she dialed the next number on her list.

“M-Mack?” she asked after the line clicked on, teeth chattering. Her foster brother normally wouldn’t have been the next person she went to, but Vic was away on a business trip, Izzy wasn’t allowed to have her phone on at work, and she didn’t want to freak Hunter out by begging him to take her home. Mack was the next-best option.

“Hey, Bobbi. Is everything okay?”

“No,” she managed to get out, throat tightening. “I’m at school and my car won’t start and no one’s around to give me a jump.” She didn’t even know if the car needed a jump or if something else was wrong. She didn’t know anything about cars other than that hers wasn’t starting.

“Okay,” Mack said, voice steady. “You called Mom and Dad?”

“They didn’t pick up,” Bobbi answered, voice wobbling, “so I called you.”

“Good, that’s good,” Mack soothed. “Listen, I’m still at work, so it would take me a bit to come get you. I think Trip is nearby, is it okay for me to tell him to come help you?”

“Yeah.” Bobbi didn’t care to wonder about why Trip was in the area when he lived over an hour away — it didn’t matter, if he could get to her quickly.

“I’m going to hang up so I can call him, but I’ll call right back, okay? Get in the car if you haven’t already and try to keep warm.”

“Okay.” Bobbi swallowed back another wave of panic. “I’ll talk to you soon.”

She did what Mack told her, sinking back into the driver’s seat of the car and slamming the door shut against the cold. Inside the car wasn’t much better than outside the car, except that inside she didn’t have to deal with the frosty wind. Bobbi counted the seconds, each breath creating clouds in the cold air, until her phone buzzed in her hand.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Mack answered, mildly out of breath. “Trip and Robbie are heading your way. Trip said they’re five, maybe ten minutes out. Do you want me to stay on the line until they get there.”

“I’m fine,” Bobbi said, though her pounding heart didn’t slow down even after she had assurance she wasn’t going to be waiting in the parking lot until someone noticed her absence from dinner.

“You sure?”

“Yeah, yeah. You need to work.” She had already taken too much of Mack’s time.

“Hey,” Mack said softly. “You’re more important to me than work right now. If you need me I can stay on the line.”

“I’m fine,” Bobbi repeated. “Just…”

“Just?” he prompted.

“It’s nothing.” If Mack could make time for her while he was at work, why couldn’t Phil and Melinda? She appreciated having a foster brother who could come to her rescue, but a part of her (a larger part of her than she wanted to admit) wished that one of her foster parents had come to save her. That was what parents were for, weren’t they?

It was stupid, though. Phil and Melinda were busy and she wasn’t ever going to be their first priority. She was lucky anyone could come for her at all; she could’ve been left to figure out a way home herself. Hot tears prickled at the backs of Bobbi’s eyes, but she ignored them.

“We can talk about it when I come over on Saturday, okay?”

“Yeah.” Bobbi sniffled. “Thanks, Mack.”

“Of course.” His softened further. “It’s gonna be alright. Trip will be there soon.”

“I know. I’ll see you this weekend.”

“Bye, Bobbi.”

“Bye.”

Bobbi scrubbed at her eyes before the tears could spill over. She was seventeen years old — she shouldn’t be crying over someone not answering her calls or being alone in a parking lot. Being an adult would be worse, and she needed to be prepared for it.

Focusing on not crying distracted her enough that she hadn’t even had time to worry Trip wouldn’t show up when he rolled into the parking lot in one of the most impressive cars she had ever seen. Bobbi didn’t know anything about cars, but she didn’t have to to know this was a nice car.

She scrambled out of the driver’s seat at the same time Trip opened the passenger-side door to the car he was in. Bobbi hadn’t registered he wasn’t the driver, and for a moment she was distracted peering through the windshield at the driver, who she presumed was Trip’s elusive best friend Robbie.

“Hey, girl,” Trip said, already pulling off his coat to hand to her. Bobbi tried to refuse — she already had on a winter coat — but he all but threw the coat over her shoulders, and at that point it was just easier to stick her arms into the sleeves. Even if her coat was good, having another layer was better, and she pulled it tight around her. Robbie stepped out of the car, shutting the door carefully behind him before shucking off his leather jacket and handing it wordlessly to Trip.

“Okay, tough guy,” Trip laughed as he shrugged the jacket on. “We get it, you don’t feel cold.”

Robbie just shook his head, looking annoyed. He walked over to Bobbi’s car, opening the door and turning the key in the ignition to verify it wouldn’t start. Bobbi let out a small breath when it refused to start for him, either. She would’ve felt even stupider if she had bothered everyone for nothing.

“Robbie’s really into cars,” Trip explained as Robbie popped open the hood. He kept a careful distance away, and Bobbi wondered if Robbie’s usual fare involved something that made Trip jumpy, like flying sparks. “He’s a mechanic.”

“I didn’t know mechanics traveled hours away from home for work,” Bobbi said neutrally. Mack hadn’t explained why Trip was in the area, and she could only guess it was something to do with Robbie, since they were driving in his car (at least Bobbi assumed it was Robbie’s car since a black Charger didn’t seem Trip’s style) and Trip hadn’t mentioned to his parents that he was going to be in the area.

“We had some paperwork to do at the hospital for Robbie’s brother,” Trip answered, also taking on a careful neutrality. “He needs to meet with a specialist to get his insurance to cover a new wheelchair.”

“I see.” Bobbi paused. “And you went with him because you two are really good friends.” She put heavy emphasis on the words, challenging Trip to correct her.

Trip looked over at Bobbi, eyes narrowing. “Did Mack tell you?”

“I figured it out,” she shrugged. The pieces hadn’t been that hard to put together, especially since she didn’t have any biases about what Trip was like or who he should be. Without the expectations in the way it was obvious Trip and Robbie weren’t just friends. “Your parents don’t know?”

“Nah,” Trip said. He turned back to watching Robbie work, but Bobbi stayed focused on Trip. “It’s not that they wouldn’t approve of him being a guy — at least I hope they would. I think they would. It’s more… most twenty-somethings aren’t worrying about a teenager getting raised right, y’know? That’s not the life they imagined for me.”

Bobbi looked down at her snow boots, tears once again threatening. If Phil and Melinda didn’t imagine their adult children looking after wayward teenagers, what must they think of her relationship with Mack?

“Hey.” Trip bumped his shoulder against hers. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“You don’t think they’d kick me out if I came out?” Bobbi asked, changing the subject so she didn’t have to focus on how easily Trip had read her mind.

“No,” Trip answered instantly, easily. “I don’t think they would.”

“I probably won’t anyways,” Bobbi said. “I mean, it’s just easier, because…”

“You’ve got that boy, and you love him.”

“Yeah.” Bobbi scuffed absent-mindedly at the asphalt. “I guess I just… they wouldn’t kick one of you out, because you’re their kids. But I’m not.”

“You don’t gotta tell them if you don’t want to,” Trip assured her. He hesitated, then wrapped an arm around her shoulders. “But if you want to tell them, I think you should.”

“I don’t even really want to tell them for me.” Bobbi didn’t know how to explain further without breaking Kora’s confidence, so she just sighed, an impressive ball of steam forming in front of her face. “I just want us all to know for sure where they stand.”

“Yeah.” Trip paused. “I’m gonna have to tell them about me eventually. I mean, I’m gonna marry Robbie, once we get all the money stuff figured out. So if you can hang on a couple more months, you don’t have to be the first.”

“I’m not going to be here in a couple more months,” Bobbi reminded him.

“Right.” There was something in Trip’s voice Bobbi couldn’t quite place, but before she could consider it more, Robbie put the hood of her car down.

“You’re ready to go,” he said, straightening. “We’ll follow you to make sure you get home safely.”

“You really don’t —”

“You don’t win arguments against Robbie,” Trip said, clapping her on the shoulder before withdrawing his arm. “He’s a bit of a hothead. Definitely not worth fighting with.”

“I…” Bobbi hesitated before turning to Trip. “Can you drive?” There had been enough weak light from the sun to illuminate her car’s innards while Robbie had been working on whatever it was, but dark blue dominated the eastern skyline and soon the whole sky would be pitch black.

“Of course,” Trip said, not thinking much of the request. He wouldn’t know to think much of it; she hadn’t even told Dr. Garner about her fear of driving in the dark. Just Kora.

Bobbi took up her position in the passenger seat, holding her backpack on her lap as they wound their way out of the school and back to the Coulson house.

The streetlights outside had already flicked on by the time they pulled into the driveway, the temperature even lower than it had been when Bobbi walked out of the school half an hour ago. Robbie stayed in his car while Trip escorted Bobbi to the door, and she ducked her head as Trip used her keys to let them inside.

Bobbi didn’t expect to immediately be slammed into by five feet and six inches of white-hat hacker, but she managed to keep her balance and put her arms around Daisy.

“We were so worried about you!”

“It’s not that big of a deal,” Bobbi said, even though it had seemed that way not half an hour earlier. “I’m fine. Trip got me.”

“But you were alone,” Daisy said, as if Bobbi hadn’t realized that. “I can stay after school with you if you want. So this doesn’t happen again.”

“It’s not a big deal,” Bobbi repeated, though the tears that had been threatening earlier sprang back into her eyes.

“Why don’t you let Bobbi inside?” Melinda suggested gently. Daisy released Bobbi from the hug shuffled backward so Bobbi and Trip could shut the door behind themselves. Bobbi peeled off Trip’s jacket, handing it to him with a smile that felt more like a grimace. Hopefully his parents wouldn’t grill him about what he had been doing near the high school and why he hadn’t mentioned being nearby.

“I gotta get going, Mama,” Trip said, pulling his mother into a quick hug and kissing her cheek. “Tell everyone else I say hi?”

“Of course.” Melinda’s normally-unreadable expression didn’t falter as Trip departed with one final wave.

“Go put your stuff in your room,” Melinda told Bobbi. “Phil’s taking you out for dinner.”

“I’m sorry,” Bobbi blurted. She couldn’t imagine that being taken out for dinner was a good thing — maybe just a way to let her down gently when they told her messing up the car was the last straw and they’d be sending her back into the system.

Melinda’s face softened. “You have nothing to be sorry about, honey. We’re just glad you’re okay.”

Then, something strange happened.

Melinda hugged her.

Bobbi froze before her brain processed what was happening, and she shakily put her arms around her foster mother, resting her chin on Melinda’s shoulder. Hugging Melinda felt different from hugging Daisy or Kora, and definitely different from hugging Hunter. Maybe it was just because she was so cold, but there was a warmth to it Bobbi didn’t expect or know how to describe. She lingered in the moment longer than she should’ve, and when Melinda pulled back Bobbi couldn’t meet her eyes. Bobbi brushed past her foster mother, up the stairs and into her bedroom.

She set her backpack on the floor and scooped Pàng up from her bed, shoving her face into his worn fur to dry her wayward tears. Bobbi inhaled Pàng’s now-familiar scent, fortifying herself, before setting him back on the bed.

“Ready to go?” Phil asked when she came back downstairs. Bobbi nodded, shoving her hands into her pockets.

Phil waited until they had left the driveway to speak. “I’m sorry, Bobbi.”

“It’s fine.”

“It’s not fine,” he insisted. “Melinda and I agreed to take care of you, and we failed at that today. That’s not okay.”

“You have other stuff to do,” she said, looking down at her jeans. So far no one had offered an explanation of why neither of her foster parents had been able to answer the phone, and Bobbi wasn’t sure she wanted one. When she didn’t know, she could pretend there had been some other emergency they needed to attend to. It would hurt too much to know that they hadn’t answered her calls because they weren’t by their phones or something equally banal.

“Nothing matters to us more than you,” Phil said. Bobbi bit back a scoff at the obvious lie. She could name at least five things that mattered to the Coulsons more than her: Mack, Trip, Daisy, Fitz, and Kora. Probably Elena, too. Maybe even Robbie.

“I know that saying that doesn’t mean much if we don’t show it,” Phil continued, oblivious to Bobbi’s disbelief, “so I want to show it. Today, and tomorrow, and forever.”

“Forever?” Bobbi repeated numbly.

“I know you’re turning eighteen,” Phil said, anticipating her protest, “but that doesn’t mean we’re going to stop caring about you. You’ll be our kid as long as you want to be.”

“Really?”

“If that’s what you want.”

Bobbi shrugged half-heartedly. It wasn’t that she didn’t believe Phil when he said they’d care about her even after she left their house, but Bobbi had been promised forever before and it had never worked out. There was no reason to believe this time would be any different. The Coulsons would start out with the best of intentions — Daisy would text, Mack would call, Phil would send letters and care packages — but as time went on and they got new foster children or life just got busier, they’d forget about her.

“Okay, kiddo.” Phil reached out to pat her shoulder. “That’s okay.”

They spent the rest of the drive in silence, Bobbi’s brow silently furrowing when she began to recognize the route they were taking. She didn’t speak up until they were in the parking lot of the pub she and Hunter used to go to all the time when she lived with her nana.

“How’d you know about this place?” she asked as she got out of the car. She hadn’t been since moving in with the Coulsons.

“You have to be level seven to access that information,” Phil answered cryptically. “Come on. Let’s get you some French Onion soup.”

Bobbi followed Phil into the pub, bewildered in the best way. If he wanted to show her he cared, this wasn’t a bad way to start.

Chapter Text

“Mo-om?” Daisy called into the house.

“Yes, honey?” Melinda asked, sticking her head out from the kitchen.

“Bobbi and I are going over to Hunter’s, be back for dinner, love you, bye!”

“Hold on just one minute.” Melinda came out of the kitchen, still holding onto the towel she had been using to dry the dishes. “You’re going to Hunter’s with Bobbi?”

“Is that okay?” Bobbi bit her lip. She hadn’t thought it would be a big deal for her foster sister to come with her to the Hartley’s — she was allowed over there and she had a lot more rules in place for her than Daisy did.

“Of course,” Melinda said. “I just want to know why.”

“Izzy’s going to teach us how to make Christmas cookies!”

“I mentioned making cookies to Daisy and she asked to come,” Bobbi explained. “It’s fine with Iz.”

“If it’s fine with her then I’m not going to stop you,” Melinda said. “Just make sure you’re home before curfew.”

“Yes ma’am.” Bobbi hadn’t ever violated curfew before and she had no intention of starting now and destroying what little goodwill she’d managed to scrounge up since the Thanksgiving fiasco.

“We’ll bring cookies too,” Daisy promised. “Love you, bye!”

“Bye,” Bobbi added.

“That went better than expected,” Daisy said once they were out of the house.

“You were expecting her to say no?”

“No, just for there to be more questions. She didn’t even ask if Hunter was going to be there.”

“To be fair, why would she think to ask if Hunter was going to be at his house when I went there?” Hunter wasn’t going to be at his house, actually; he and Vic were making a day trip to see Idaho’s college campus, leaving Izzy with the run of the house.

Originally the idea had been for Bobbi to get some time to decompress without everyone hovering, but somehow it had turned into a cookie baking expedition. When Daisy had asked to tag along Bobbi couldn’t exactly say no — and she didn’t really want to say no, either, which had been a pleasant surprise even to herself. Dr. Garner would ask her to dissect why she was surprised she wanted to spend time with Daisy when she basically always enjoyed talking to her foster sister, but Bobbi endeavored not to think about Dr. Garner unless she was in a session with him. Otherwise things got too confusing and complicated.

“Are we lying to her?” Daisy asked, slipping into the passenger seat of the car.

“Lying by omission?” Bobbi suggested. “I mean, she’s probably happy I’m not going to have any opportunities to sneak off and have sex or something.”

“Do you?” Daisy blurted. “Have sex?”

“No,” Bobbi said slowly, turning the key in the ignition. Whatever Robbie had done to fix her car had worked a charm, and she hadn’t had any problems since that one terrifying afternoon. She almost wished there was some sort of problem, though, because Bobbi was not prepared for this conversation. “Why?”

Daisy shrugged. “It just seemed like the kind of question you’re supposed to talk to your older sister about.”

“You don’t talk to Elena about this stuff?” Bobbi asked rather than correct the title Daisy chose to use for her.

Daisy shook her head. “I like Elena, but she’s always felt more like Mack’s wife than my sister, if that makes sense.”

Bobbi nodded. There were people that felt like hers, and there were people that felt like someone else’s. That was why she liked Daisy so much — her foster sister felt like hers, not someone she was borrowing. Phil and Melinda, on the other hand…

“Even if we didn’t have someone breathing down our necks at all hours, it just… isn’t something we’ve really talked about,” Bobbi said. “I mean, it’s a big commitment to make to someone, and the last thing I need in my life is to accidentally get pregnant.” She shuddered — Bobbi didn’t know who would raise more hell, Phil and Melinda or Vic and Izzy. Having a baby would feel like a failure of sorts, too. Bobbi couldn’t even support herself right now, let alone a child, and… she really didn’t want to think about it, about becoming another statistic of teens who got pregnant in foster care. Too many people saw her as nothing more than a number without her proving them right.

“Yeah,” Daisy said thoughtfully.

“…are you thinking about sex?” Bobbi asked, because that seemed like the sort of thing she should ask.

“With who?” Daisy yelped.

“I don’t know, Daniel?” Bobbi hadn’t heard anything more about Daisy’s crush since the day Kora had come out, but that didn’t mean things hadn’t changed.

“Nope. Nope, nope, nope.” Daisy blushed ferociously. “We’re still just friends. And even if we did get together, what do you think Mom would say if —”

Bobbi didn’t need Daisy to finish the sentence to understand what she meant. Melinda had to look after Bobbi, but Daisy was her baby. Any reaction Melinda had to Bobbi possibly having sex would be a hundred times worse for Daisy.

“I think I’m supposed to be more helpful than this,” Bobbi apologized. “But I didn’t really have anyone to tell me about it, so…” If she’d really wanted to Bobbi was sure she could ask Vic and Izzy all her questions, but there was a certain amount of awkwardness Bobbi could tolerate and talking to her boyfriend’s mothers about their sex life was far, far beyond that threshold.

“You’re really helpful,” Daisy said earnestly. “I mean, even just knowing that I’m not supposed to know everything right now is kind of nice. Because…” she waved her hands vaguely.

“I get it.” Life would always be uncertain, but somehow people always clung to the certainty they could find. Having the reassurance that uncertainty was normal would be nice.

Bobbi wished for that — for someone to tell her she was normal. It didn’t feel normal that she thought of Daisy as her sister and Mack as her brother even without thinking of their parents as her parents. It didn’t feel normal that even though she was counting down the days until her eighteenth birthday, she sometimes let herself imagine what it would be like if what Phil said was true and she could be with the Coulsons forever.

“You know you can talk to me too, right?” Daisy asked after a long silence. “I mean, I’m not super worldly or anything but…”

“You think I’m worldly?” Bobbi asked, ignoring the question.

“Mom and Dad say you’ve seen too much for someone so young,” Daisy answered plainly. “They said the same thing about Mack and Trip. Fitz and Kora and I weren’t babies when we were adopted but we were younger than the three of you, you know? We’ve had more good times than bad now.”

“Do they talk to you about me a lot?”

“They weren’t really talking to me,” Daisy admitted. “But they forget that I stay up late and sometimes I go to the kitchen for snacks and…”

“Ah.” Daisy was an accidental eavesdropper is what Bobbi was getting from this.

“I think it makes them feel bad that they can’t figure you out,” Daisy said. “They don’t know what you want.”

“Oh.”

“That’s not your fault,” Daisy insisted. “You’re just different. And that’s okay.”

“If they want to know what I want they could just ask me,” Bobbi pointed out.

“I think they’re worried about pressuring you if they do that,” Daisy answered. Which was a fair concern, given that it was pretty much impossible to ask someone what they wanted without making an implication in some way. “Which is dumb, because I’m pretty sure you couldn’t be pressured even if you were in a vacuum chamber, but…”

“Did you get that saying from Fitz?” Bobbi snorted.

“I read!”

Bobbi chuckled. “I’m sure you do.”

“Is there anything I should know before I spend longer than ten minutes with Izzy?” Daisy asked as they turned into the Hartley’s neighborhood. Bobbi wasn’t even sure the time they’d spent together before homecoming counted, seeing as Daisy and Izzy hadn’t even held a conversation.

“Not really? She has a younger sister named Jane who’s a breast cancer survivor, but I don’t think you make cancer jokes, so…”

“There are people who make cancer jokes?”

“Too many,” Bobbi answered, deadpan. “Haven’t you been on the Internet?”

“Fair.”

“Obviously she loves her kids. She and Vic have been married… twenty-five years, I think? A long-ass time. Her favorite TV show is Xena Warrior Princess and if you tell her she looks like Lucy Lawless she will love you forever.”

“Okay, loves Hunter, Vic, and Lucy Lawless. In that order?”

“Depends on the day.”

Daisy was still laughing when they pulled into the driveway, but managed to get herself under control by the time they both were on the Hartley’s front doorstep.

Bobbi didn’t even have to knock for Izzy to pull the front door open, beaming. “There’s my favorite child!”

“Uh oh,” Bobbi said, stepping into Izzy’s hug. “What did the boys do this time?”

“Idaho asked Vic if he could take Hunter to a bar,” Izzy answered, squeezing Bobbi tight. “Because Hunter asked him to. You know it’s not too late to break up with him, right?”

“Iz,” Bobbi admonished. “If I broke up with him you’d never get to see me again.”

Daisy scoffed.

“I agree,” Izzy said, letting go of Bobbi and turning to her foster sister. “It’s nice to see you again, Daisy.”

“You as well.” Daisy extended her hand forward for a shake and Izzy snorted, pulling her into a hug that was admittedly less tight than the one she’d given Bobbi, but warm regardless.

“I wasn’t sure whether you wanted sugar cookies or gingerbread cookies or something else, so I may have gone a little overboard with the ingredients,” Izzy said, beckoning them into the kitchen.

“A little?” Daisy repeated dubiously. Bobbi agreed — literally every counter was covered with plastic shopping bags full of various ingredients, from the basic flour, sugar and butter to bizarre ingredients Bobbi had never heard of, like star anise extract.

“Where are we going to cook, Iz?” There wasn’t even room to set down a bowl!

“Ye of little faith.” Iz shook her head. “C’mon, what do you want to do?”

“Fitz likes gingerbread, Kora likes sugar cookies,” Daisy supplied. “Dad would say as long as we had fun it doesn’t matter what kind of cookies they are.”

“Let’s make sugar cookies,” Bobbi decided. “We can decorate them, too. That’ll be fun.”

Like magic, Izzy whisked away half of the grocery bags, leaving enough room on the counters of a large glass bowl and an ancient recipe book.

“Where have you been hiding that thing?” Bobbi asked, cocking her head. She’d spent the last three years spending most of her time at the Hartley house, and she’d somehow missed a huge-ass cookbook? It wasn’t like her not to notice little details like that.

“It’s a secret,” Izzy said, winking. “Speaking of, your package came.”

“Package?” Daisy asked, raising an eyebrow.

“It’s a gift for Kora I didn’t want your parents to see,” Bobbi explained. “I’m sure she’ll show you after Christmas.”

“Are you trying to make me die of curiosity?” Daisy asked. “You’re lucky I haven’t bugged you to death about what you got me. I think Mom’s ready to pull her hair out.”

“You’ll see what I got you soon,” Bobbi said placatingly. “Only one more week until Christmas.”

“But it’s going to take forever!” The last week before Christmas did seem to crawl by. Bobbi certainly was curious about what gift Hunter had gotten her, since he’d been dropping hints since Friendsgiving that it was going to be the best gift he’d ever given her.

“What if I give you a hint?” Bobbi relented.

“Yes!”

“They’re small enough to fit in your hand.”

“They? As in, more than one?”

“Have you even looked under the Christmas tree?” Bobbi asked. The Coulsons’ Christmas tree was relatively tame decoration wise, mostly covered in fairy lights and plain red ornaments, but underneath the tree was not tame whatsoever. Bobbi hadn’t seen half the living room floor since the beginning of December, and the pile of gifts had only grown more precarious as the day grew closer. If Daisy had looked, though, she would’ve seen two boxes labeled To Daisy, From Bobbi.

“Mom didn’t let us look when we were younger because it would cause arguments,” Daisy admitted. Bobbi winced — she could understand how having more or less presents could cause a meltdown, especially when the kids were little. Probably better the policy stayed in place.

“Enough about Christmas presents,” Izzy said. “It’s time for cookies.”

---

The dozens of Christmas cookies they made with Izzy lasted the Coulson family all the way up until Christmas Eve. Bobbi was contemplating whether to have a sugar cookie or one of the chocolate kiss cookies they’d also made when Phil summoned the entire family into the living room. She grabbed a sugar cookie on impulse, not wanting to be the last one to arrive when apparently she was the only one who didn’t know what was going on.

If she’d thought the Christmas tree had been crowded before, now it was overflowing, the sprawl of presents reaching all the way to the sofa and making it difficult to navigate through the room without tripping.

“What’s going on?” Bobbi asked, picking her way through the living room and then wedging herself between Daisy and Kora on the sofa.

“Christmas Eve pajamas!” Kora piped up, glancing up at Bobbi but eventually resting her eyes on the cookie. “Mom and Dad get us new pajamas every year so we’re wearing something nice for pictures tomorrow morning.”

Bobbi broke off a piece of her sugar cookie and handed it wordlessly to Kora, who shoved the whole thing into her mouth with a grin.

“It also helped us complain a lot less about not getting to open any presents on Christmas Eve,” Daisy added.

“Sorry we forgot to tell you, kiddo,” Phil said, handing her a present that was the perfect shape and size for a clothing box. “I already knew what I wanted to get you so I didn’t really think about it.”

“It’s okay,” Bobbi said. She knew better than to complain about gifts, especially gifts that were a family tradition. It was probably just the Christmas season making her feel sentimental, but Bobbi missed being a part of traditions. Even if they weren’t her family traditions, at least she was included somehow.

When all of the children had their boxes balanced on their laps and Melinda had the camera ready, Phil gave them the signal to go.

Kora got her box open first, since she hadn’t bothered to be neat with ripping open the wrapping paper. Bobbi paused to watch Kora pull out her pajamas.

“It’s a unicorn!” Kora announced, which was good since Bobbi couldn’t distinguish any details in the mess of rainbow fabric she had taken out of the box. “Thanks Mom!”

Fitz hadn’t stopped to see what Kora was doing, so he was next to open his pajamas. His were markedly less interesting, just a soft, stretchy shirt with the ManU logo on it and a pair of joggers, but he seemed pleased nonetheless. “Thanks, Mom.”

Bobbi didn’t bother turning back to her present, waiting instead for Daisy to finish opening hers. The first thing she pulled out was a plain white sleep shirt that was, in Bobbi’s opinion, kind of boring, but the fleece sleep pants she pulled out next were markedly more interesting — forest green with white-and-yellow daisies printed all over.

“Dad,” Daisy laughed. “Come on!”

“You’re the one who gave me full creative control,” Phil said, shrugging. “What’s the point of having a flower name if I don’t get to use it against you every once in a while?”

“There is no point,” Daisy agreed, standing up so she could wrap her father in a hug. “Thanks, Daddy.”

“Bobbi,” Kora poked her. “C’mon, I wanna see!”

Bobbi finished peeling back the wrapping paper, leaving it in a neat pile at her feet before shimmying open the box.

It practically exploded onto her lap, the slippers that had been stuffed into the box bursting forth as soon as it wasn’t taped shut. Bobbi picked the slippers up, smiling when she saw the face on the front. Baby Yoda slippers!

She put them to the side so she could pull the pajamas out of the tissue paper, gaping as the onesie unfurled.

The body of the onesie was a warm gray, with pale green arms and an equally green hood — a hood with ears! The front of the onesie also had a baby Yoda peeking out from behind the zipper. Best of all, it had pockets!

“This is awesome,” Bobbi said, unable to contain her excitement. “Thanks Da — Phil.”

If anyone else had noticed her slip of the tongue they didn’t give any indication of it, though Bobbi’s cheeks flamed. She had almost called Phil Dad.

“Why don’t you all go change into your pajamas and get ready for bed?” Melinda suggested. “Early night means early rising.”

Somehow Bobbi doubted that was why she was shooing them to sleep, but she knew better than to protest. She grabbed her box and slippers, ducking her head when she passed by Phil so he wouldn’t see how pink her cheeks still were from her mistake.

She said goodnight to Kora and Fitz before shutting herself in her room and grabbing her phone off the charger.

[Bobbi]: I just called Phil Dad

[Hunter]: Oof

[Hunter]: What did he say

[Bobbi]: He didn’t seem to notice?

[Hunter]: Is that a good thing or a bad thing?

[Bobbi]: I don’t know?

[Hunter]: Maybe he didn’t react because they’re planning to adopt you for Christmas

[Bobbi]: Yeah right

[Bobbi]: We still on for Boxing Day?

[Hunter]: As if I could cancel on my best girl :)

[Bobbi]: :)

[Bobbi]: I love you

[Bobbi]: Merry Almost Christmas

[Hunter]: Merry Almost Christmas, Bob <3

Chapter Text

“Bobbi!”

She woke up the moment two bony knees dug into her rib cage, and Bobbi blinked blearily until her eyes focused on Kora kneeling on top of her.

“It’s snowing!”

That was enough to get Bobbi moving (though she had to wait for Kora to clamber off of her first). Bobbi kicked off her slippers so she could shove her feet into her snow boots, but before she could fly out the front door Melinda was there, draping her winter coat around her shoulders.

“Thanks,” Bobbi mumbled, shoving her arms through the holes and ignoring the Mom on the tip of her tongue. It was just because she had messed up and called Phil her dad the night before, and it was Christmastime, and maybe a part of her wished she did have a mom this Christmas. It was her last chance, after all — her last Christmas before she would be on her own forever.

“Don’t stay out too long,” Melinda said, handing Bobbi a hat as well. “Someone visited last night.”

“You know I’m too old to believe in Santa,” Bobbi said as she pulled her hat down over her ears. Even Kora knew Santa wasn’t real.

“I never said it was Santa.” Melinda winked before shooing Bobbi out to play in the snow. Kora had already managed to get snow all over her and Daisy was whooping in joy as she threw handfuls of it up in the air. It must’ve snowed all night, because there was at least a foot on the ground and more still gently drifting down. Bobbi tipped her head back, sticking her tongue out. She had yet to catch a snowflake on her tongue in all her seventeen years of life, but that could change today.

“Bobbi! Bobbi!” Kora bounded up to her. “Can you believe it!?”

“It’s pretty cool,” Bobbi agreed. It snowed regularly in Ohio, but not every Christmas, so it was still special when it happened.

“Pretty cold!” Daisy corrected, huffing out a breath to see how big of a frost cloud she could make. “I should’ve put on more layers.”

“Your mom said we shouldn’t stay out too long anyways,” Bobbi said. “I bet we can come out after lunch. Maybe make a snowman?”

“You want to build a snowman?” Kora said, practically vibrating with excitement. “We haven’t made one since Mack moved out!”

“That’s because none of us are strong enough to lift the two parts of the body together,” Daisy corrected. “I bet Bobbi could though, right Bobbi?”

She shrugged. She hadn’t been working out as much now that she had Science Olympiad and spent most of her weekends with Hunter and the Hartleys, but Bobbi didn’t doubt she was stronger than a middle schooler.

“Do you wanna build a snowman,” Kora sang happily. “Come on let’s go and play!”

“Okay, Frozen girl, let’s get inside before I’m actually frozen,” Daisy said, ushering Kora towards the front door. “We can sled and snowman later.”

Even though they had only been outside a few minutes, Bobbi had a hard time holding onto her fork with her numb fingers. Phil slid her a mug of cocoa and Bobbi wrapped her hands around it gratefully, letting the warmth seep into her as she sipped the drink. She needed to put her slippers back on, too — her toes hadn’t fared much better than her fingers, since she hadn’t worn socks outside either.

“Melinda organized all your presents in the living room, so make sure you sit where she tells you to,” Phil instructed as he began clearing the table. “You can take the cocoa but be careful the dog doesn’t get to it.” Cap had woken up when the rest of the house did and seemed mostly content to laze around wherever the rest of the family was, but once everyone else was riled up with Christmas excitement he might get a little hard to control as well.

Bobbi decided to chug the last of her hot chocolate so she wouldn’t have to worry about accidentally sending the dog to the vet on Christmas. Between making sure she didn’t have hot chocolate on her face and putting her mug in the sink, Bobbi was the last to enter the living room.

There must’ve been some mistake, though, because the only empty seat was behind the largest pile of presents, and there was no way —

“Right there, Bobbi,” Melinda said, pointing encouragingly. Bobbi sat where she was told, barely able to see Melinda from around the mountain of gifts.

They started by opening their stockings, which were stuffed full of various candies and trinkets. Bobbi’s favorite thing (other than the frankly nauseating amount of chocolate) was a pad of Star Wars themed sticky notes. Phil and Melinda knew she liked things other than Star Wars — at least, she hoped they knew that — but it was possible to get anything with a Star Wars logo attached, and it was kind of nice not to have the generic version of everything.

“Hold on, Bobbi, there’s a present we want you to open first,” Melinda said. “It’s the one with the snowman wrapping paper.” Somehow only one gift in her stack had wrapping paper with snowmen on it, so she was able to find it easily. Luckily it was on the top of the stack so Bobbi didn’t send the pile toppling when she picked the gift up.

“This one’s from me and Phil,” Melinda said, though the information was repeated on the gift tag. “Open it.”

The box was small enough to fit easily on Bobbi’s lap, and fairly light as well. She wasn’t ever the type of the kid to shake her presents to see what was inside, but curiosity almost won her over. Instead she began methodically unwrapping the gift, peeling the paper back to reveal a small box. She lifted the lid off carefully, peeled back the tissue paper covering whatever what was inside, and…

“Well?” Daisy prompted when thirty seconds later Bobbi still hadn’t taken the gift out of the box. “What is it?”

“It’s — it’s Birdie,” Bobbi said, voice breaking as she lifted the stuffed bird out of the nest of tissue paper and into her arms. Birdie looked just as she had the day Bobbi had last seen her, blue fabric worn in all the right places and still impossibly soft. Somehow she still even smelled the same when Bobbi pressed her nose into the fabric.

“I’m sorry it took so long to get her back to you,” Melinda said. “We had to send her out of state to get fixed, and the shipping was delayed, and —”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bobbi interrupted. “I — thank you.” She nearly toppled over trying to cross the living room, but managed not to fall until the moment she tripped into her foster mother’s arms. Bobbi didn’t bother holding back the tears streaming down her face as she clung to Melinda — even if she got nothing else this Christmas, having Birdie back would be enough. It would be more than enough.

“You’re welcome, sweetheart.” Melinda combed her fingers through Bobbi’s hair, unperturbed by the wet spot rapidly growing on her sleep shirt. Bobbi held on far longer than she normally would’ve allowed herself, but she still couldn’t quite believe this was happening. She had Birdie back. She had her parents back, if only this one tiny piece of them. Phil and Melinda had given her her parents back.

“Are you okay?” Melinda whispered after a long while.

Bobbi nodded wordlessly, pulling back. “Thank you,” she choked out, wiping at her eyes.

“Merry Christmas, baby.” Melinda kissed her forehead gently, and Phil pulled her into a short hug before letting her go back to her seat on the couch.

The other kids began opening their presents while Bobbi recovered from her gift, but she didn’t pay much attention, too enthralled by the stuffed bird on her lap.

“Bobbi?”

“Huh?” she asked, looking up from Birdie to see why her name was being called.

“Your other presents,” Kora prompted. “You haven’t opened any.”

“Right,” Bobbi said. “Do I need to open the rest in a special order…?” Since her foster mother had been very specific about her opening Birdie first, Bobbi wanted to make sure she didn’t need to know anything else.

“Open the candy cane-striped ones last,” Phil instructed. “They all go together, but they go last.”

Bobbi nodded, pulling her next gift off the stack. Since she’d had more gifts to begin with and hadn’t participated in the last few rounds of opening, she needed to catch up.

It was honestly overwhelming, how much stuff she was opening. When she’d first been in care she’d been careful about how much she accumulated in case she needed to move to a new home, and once she’d gone to live with her nana there hadn’t been much room in the budget for extra Christmas presents, let alone a veritable mountain of them. Bobbi paused midway through unwrapping a gift. Her nana was probably alone this Christmas. Bobbi hadn’t heard from her since the court date that had sever her parental rights, but if she had to assume…

But now wasn’t the time for that. She could ask her foster parents about her nana later, and enjoy her Christmas now.

Half the enjoyment was watching her foster siblings enjoy the gifts Bobbi had bought them. Kora cooed over the tiny felt shark Bobbi had made her in home ec class, Fitz immediately began thumbing through the chemistry book, and Daisy went on a monologue about how she had wanted custom keycaps for her keyboard for forever. The presents her foster siblings gave her were equally sweet and thoughtful — Bobbi would be lying if she said Mack’s gift of a picture frame with a photo of the two of them in it didn’t make her tear up a little. Bobbi still needed to give Kora the gift she had sent to the Hartley house, but that could wait. Somehow, she still had a lot of presents to unwrap.

To be fair, a lot of it was clothing. Nice clothing, though, even nicer than the rest of the things the Coulsons had bought for her when she’d first come home with them Melinda had finally won the battle and gotten Bobbi a pair of running shoes, and Daisy had insisted on getting her a thick oversized OSU sweatshirt, even though (as Bobbi was constantly reminding her) Bobbi hadn’t actually gotten in yet. Phil had stuffed a gift bag full of socks whose theme was — who would have guessed — Star Wars. Bobbi felt less bad about it since she had also given him a gift that hearkened back to their movie nights, a six-pack of popcorn flavor powders that they could mix and match to create new combinations.

Not all the gifts were clothings, though; everyone seemed to have taken her comment about her bedroom seeming empty a little too seriously, and she had a stack of bits and bobs to put on her desk. She might even need a book shelf with everything she had been given (including a book from Fitz that was, funnily enough, from the same author as the book she had gotten him). It was weird, though, because even for the pile of things at her feet, they felt like more than things. Again, it was probably just the Christmas spirit making her sentimental, but the gifts her foster family gave her felt like memories waiting to be created.

She wanted those memories — and she definitely wanted more than six more months of them. But that was a sad thought for another day.

It was nearing lunch time when the gifts in front of her had dwindled down to just the candy cane packages, and Bobbi couldn’t possibly imagine what there could be left to receive. The Coulsons had given her gifts ranging from practical to fun to sentimental and in the process more than doubled the amount of worldly possessions Bobbi owned. Whatever it was, she assumed it was special since Phil had insisted she open it last, but considering how blindsided she had been by them giving her Birdie back, Bobbi had no expectations for the candy cane packages.

“Open the big rectangular one first,” Phil instructed. “And be careful, it’s breakable.”

The box was heavier than Bobbi would’ve first guessed, a little smaller than the clothing boxes she had been opening all day but not by much. The other kids, who had all long-since finished opening their gifts, looked on. Bobbi scanned the crowd, and immediately could tell Daisy knew what gift she was about to open.

Interesting.

Bobbi had become markedly less neat with her unwrapping throughout the morning, mostly because of the sheer volume of unwrapping she had to do and how much longer it took to unwrap a gift precisely. For this, her last gift, she decided to throw all orderliness to the wayside and tear into the package with abandon.

For the second time that morning, Bobbi was left utterly speechless.

“I — I can’t take this,” Bobbi stuttered out, staring at the box in disbelief. Unless there wasn’t a laptop in this marked, sealed box that claimed to have a laptop inside, there was no way she could accept it. The rest of the gifts had been nice, but each individual item hadn’t been overly expensive. Bobbi was sure the cost had added up with how much they had given her, but this — this was the kind of gift that could be someone’s only Christmas gift, because it was a fucking laptop, and a really nice one if Bobbi’s instincts were right.

“You’ve been doing really well in school, Bobbi,” Melinda said, voice measured. “We wanted to give you something that would make your schoolwork easier, and that you can take to college with you.”

“But —” But this was a whole computer! Like, a whole computer!

“No buts,” Phil said firmly. “If it makes you feel any better, we had to talk Hunter out of buying it for you himself.”

“What?!” Hunter got an allowance from Vic and Izzy, but Bobbi doubted it was buy-a-laptop allowance. Had he gotten a job without telling her?

“That boy of yours is something else,” Phil chuckled. “You were going to get it one way or another, Bobbi. We were proud to be the ones to give it to you.”

“I — thank you,” Bobbi stammered. She had been saying so many thank yous, but none of them touched how she really felt — the gratitude that went straight to the center of her chest and wouldn’t budge. “Thank you both so much.” This time she didn’t fall into Melinda’s arms, but she was welcomed in nonetheless. Phil came to sandwich her in between them, and Bobbi sank into the warmth surrounding her.

This was the best Christmas ever, and there was still more to come.

---

Bobbi rapped softly on the door to her foster sister’s bedroom, smiling when Kora immediately opened the door. Kora’s dark hair was still damp from the hot shower she’d taken after they’d come inside from their snowman construction project and her shoulders sagged with the exhaustion of a hard day’s snowball fight, but she still beamed when she saw Bobbi.

“Hey,” Bobbi said, stepping into Kora’s room and shutting the door gently behind her. “I forgot to give you your last gift.” She had decided it was easier to phrase it as a forgotten gift than a gift Kora might not want her parents to see; the latter seemed a bit too alarming when the gift wasn’t anything big or special.

Kora accepted the red-and-green box Bobbi held out, padding over to her bed and plopping down onto it. The corners of Bobbi’s lips turned up when she saw the little felted shark she had made sitting in the place of pride on Kora’s nightstand.

“Oh, wow,” Kora breathed when she got the package open. She ripped through the plastic bag holding the gift, letting the rainbow flag unfurl in one smooth motion. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Bobbi said, taking her spot next to Kora on the bed. “I know you still have a lot to figure out and a lot of growing to do, but no matter who you are now or who you grow to become, I hope you know that I… I love you. And I’m going to be here for you as long as you want me to be.”

Kora dropped the flag on the ground in favor of throwing her arms around Bobbi. “Thank you.”

“Of course,” Bobbi said, hooking her chin over Kora’s shoulder. “It’s kind of scary to be figuring everything out by yourself and not knowing if you have someone on your side, and…”

“And now I have you,” Kora finished, pulling back. “That makes everything less scary.”

“Good.” Bobbi smiled. “If you want help putting it up, I can help you. Or if you just want to keep it, or if you don’t want it…”

“I want it,” Kora answered firmly, serious expression coming over her face. “You gave it to me.”

“Well yeah, but if you weren’t sure if it was safe, or something…” Bobbi said lamely. She had wanted to give Kora the rainbow flag in a show of support, but she didn’t want her foster sister to feel pressured into anything she wasn’t ready for. Phil and Melinda still came into her room sometimes, and the flag would no doubt inspire questions.

“I kind of want to tell them before Valentine’s Day,” Kora admitted, looking down at her lap. “I mean, I know we’re really young and it’s not that serious but it would be nice to, um… maybedosomethingwithPiper?”

“If you want to do something with Piper that sounds great,” Bobbi said encouragingly. “And if you want me there when you tell them just say the word.”

“Thanks, Bobbi.”

“Of course,” Bobbi repeated. “Merry Christmas, Kora.”

She patted Kora on the shoulder before taking her leave. She needed to organize her closet to make room for all her Christmas acquisitions, and Mack had promised to call her after the festivities at Elena’s cousin’s house died down.

There must’ve been some residual Christmas magic in the air, because the moment Bobbi got settled in her room her cell rang, the screen blinking Mack’s number.

“Merry Christmas!” she greeted, tucking the phone between her cheek and shoulder as she began sorting through her gifts.

“Merry Christmas, Barbara,” Mack said, a smile in his voice. “Mom and Dad said you spent most of your day out in the snow?”

“Yup. Kora wanted to build a snowman and then Fitz had an idea for a snowball machine and… things got out of hand,” Bobbi laughed. “I guess there’s not much snow in Colombia this time of year, huh?”

“There might be some up in the mountains, but definitely not in Bogota,” Mack answered. “I’m glad you guys had fun, though. Get any good gifts?”

“A ton,” Bobbi enthused. “Phil’s going to help me hang up your picture frame tomorrow. Where’d you get that picture of us, by the way?” She hadn’t recognized the memory, which was bizarre since it wasn’t like she and Mack spent that much time together.

“Elena took it. I’m not sure when,” Mack answered. “I can shake it out of her later. She passed out as soon as her aunt and uncle left Francisco’s.”

Bobbi hummed. Christmas seemed like a hard time to be pregnant, with all the activities to do and people to visit. Bobbi found it exhausting and she didn’t have the additional work of growing another human.

“Mack, can I ask you a question?”

“You just did.”

“You’re not funny,” Bobbi huffed.

“Go for it, Barbara.”

“Hunter said last night that he thought your mom and dad were going to offer to adopt me on Christmas. I don’t know if you know, but they got me a laptop, and I guess I was wondering…” Bobbi didn’t know how to finish the question, but she hoped Mack understood what she meant.

“They wouldn’t try to bribe you into being adopted, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Mack said. “As far as I know a Christmas adoption was never in the cards.”

“Okay.” Bobbi breathed out. “I knew that already, but I needed someone else to tell me, too.”

“Are you disappointed they didn’t ask to adopt you?” Mack asked.

“I… I don’t know.” Bobbi paused, making sure the door was firmly shut before she continued talking. “I mean, I think a part of me kind of hoped it would be like all those movies or feel-good YouTube videos where the kid gets adopted on Christmas Day. I… I thought a lot about my biological family, and I guess… Christmas is an even harder time not to have a family than Thanksgiving is, you know?”

“Yeah,” Mack answered softly. “It sounds like you don’t know if you wanted our family, or just a family.”

“I guess,” Bobbi agreed. “Which sucks, because your family is basically the best family ever, and I’m sure everyone else probably wants your family, but…”

“Barbara,” Mack said, voice somehow gentle and firm at the same time. “Adoption isn’t something something should do because it’s expected, for either the kid or the family. You have to be sure it’s what you want, and they have to be sure it’s what they want for it to be able to work.”

“I know,” Bobbi sighed. “I guess I never really thought about what I want, though. Since I already know what your parents want.”

“And what’s that?” Mack hummed.

“Not me?” Bobbi half-said, half-asked. “I mean, I’m pretty sure your parents came close to kicking me out more than once, and… and there’s other stuff that’s happening, too, that they might be mad about.” Even after talking to Trip and hearing his perspective, Bobbi wasn’t entirely convinced the Coulsons would be happy about her being bi, or her supporting Kora being queer.

“What kind of other stuff?” Mack asked, alarmed.

“I can’t tell you. But I promise no one’s pregnant and no one’s in danger and no one’s doing anything illegal. Just… stuff I’m not sure they’d be happy about.”

“Well, I can tell you pretty confidently my parents never thought about kicking you out. And I think whatever you’re thinking of, as long as no one’s in danger or committing a crime, they’ll be fine.” Mack paused. “Any reason you mention the pregnancy thing, though?”

“I had a talk about sex with Daisy,” Bobbi said. “And neither of us are doing it but it feels like something Phil and Melinda might not want me talking about with their kids.”

“It’s perfectly natural for kids your age to be talking about that stuff. Mom and Dad know that,” Mack said. “Is that what you think they’re going to be mad about?”

“No, it’s something else,” Bobbi said vaguely. “It’s not really mine to tell.”

“Okay.” Mack probably knew better than to push when it came to not mine to tell, given he had been keeping Trip’s secret about dating Robbie for God knew how long. “I’m gonna say it again, just so you don’t forget. If there’s ever anything you don’t want to talk to Mom or Dad about, I’m here for you, okay?”

“I know,” Bobbi said, exasperated fondness creeping into her voice. “And I’ll tell you if that does happen.”

“Good. That’s what —”

“Big brothers are for,” Bobbi finished. “Thanks, Mack.”

“Of course, Barbara. And if you ever want to talk about adoption, or how you’re feeling about that, I’m here for that too.”

“I might take you up on that,” Bobbi said after a long pause. She could talk to Dr. Garner about herself and her past, but she didn’t feel comfortable talking to him about her hopes for the future. Telling your therapist something made it feel more real than telling that same thing to your brother.

“That’s why I offered,” Mack said. “Listen, you’ve had a long day, and Mom tells me your day’s packed tomorrow, too, so I’m going to let you go to get some sleep.”

“Okay,” Bobbi said, curling her knees up into her chest. “Thanks for calling, Mack. Merry Christmas.”

“Merry Christmas, Barbara. Love you.”

“Love you too.” Bobbi savored the words in her mouth for a long moment before adding quickly, “Bye.”

Sometime during the conversation she had started focusing more on talking than on getting her gifts organized, but that could wait. Bobbi hadn’t ever changed out of her pajamas, so all she had to do was shut off the lights and clamber into bed.

It only occurred to her once she was cuddled up with her stuffed animals that she hadn’t given Pàng back to Melinda yet. Now that she had Birdie back she didn’t really need Pàng… but it was still nice to have him. Melinda wouldn’t miss him for one more night, would she?

No, Bobbi decided as she snuggled deeper into her cocoon of covers (complete with a new quilt Elena had gotten her for Christmas). One more night couldn’t hurt anyone.

Chapter Text

“Here,” Hunter murmured, taking his coat off and draping it over Bobbi’s shoulders. She barely acknowledged him as she pulled the coat tight around her. She was wearing a jacket of her own, but they’d been standing out in the snow for a while now and eventually she’d started to shiver. The rational part of Bobbi argued that they should just get back into the car and drive home, but the emotional part of her wasn’t ready to leave quite yet.

The day after Christmas was the one time every year she allowed herself to visit her parents’ graves. Everyone in her life insisted repeatedly that it was fine for her to spend as much time as she wanted in the cemetery, but Bobbi just couldn’t bring herself to do it for more than one day a year, maybe an hour at most. Every time felt like the first time, a sucker punch to the gut. Her parents were really gone. They were never coming back, and the headstone in the middle of a snowy field was proof.

On the rare years there wasn’t snow on the ground when she visited, Bobbi liked to sit there and talk to her parents. She knew they couldn’t hear her, but sometimes saying the words was more important than someone else hearing them. She’d introduced them to Hunter the Boxing Day after they’d started dating, and he’d kept coming with her every year since then. He never spoke, but his presence kept Bobbi from breaking down entirely every time.

“I think you would really like them, Mom,” Bobbi whispered, feeling ridiculous, just as she did every year. “They’re… they’re really kind. I like them a lot.” But they’re not you, Bobbi added silently. She hadn’t ever liked a foster family as much as she liked the Coulsons, which was why this year’s conversation was so much harder than usual. She didn’t want to forget her parents. It wasn’t fair, when they hadn’t done anything wrong. They’d just been in the wrong place at the wrong time, and Bobbi was the one who suffered the consequences. It was the same way her Aunt Tess hadn’t done anything wrong by getting sick and leaving Bobbi alone again, and her nana hadn’t done anything wrong by getting old and forgetful. Some things just were, and this was one of them. It felt wrong to hold her parents’ absence against them, and thinking of the Coulsons like her family felt like doing just that.

“I miss you,” Bobbi said, voice breaking. Again, the rational and emotional parts of her warred. The rational part argued that she didn’t really miss her parents — she missed the version of them she’d made up in her head. At eleven she hadn’t had a grasp of all the ways her parents were flawed. She’d just known they loved her, and she loved them. At eleven, everything had been simpler, and wishing for her parents back was just wishing for the simpler times again, when she didn’t have to worry about things like going to college or winding up as a disappointment. The emotional part was convinced that even if she missed an idealized version of her parents, she still missed them. She missed the potential they had together, everything they hadn’t gotten to do. And that was the part that hurt the most — the list of things they would never get to do with her was longer than the list of things they had gotten to do, and it was only going to get longer.

Giving those chances to someone else was wrong, wasn’t it?

Bobbi turned away from the headstone, stumbling the few steps into Hunter’s arms. He wrapped her up close, kissing her temple but not saying anything. Bobbi appreciated the silence, appreciated that he didn’t try to tell her what she was feeling or insist that he understood it. Sometimes, Bobbi didn’t want to be told it was okay. Sometimes, she just wanted to be held.

“I wanna go home,” Bobbi mumbled into his shoulder. That was easier said than done, since she didn’t even know where home was anymore. The house she’d lived in with her parents, her nana’s apartment, the Coulsons’ place, the Hartleys’? Every place that had ever mattered to her hadn’t been permanent. Bobbi wanted something like Mack had — a place where you walked through the door and knew you belonged there, a place that was warm and safe and real.

“I can take you home,” Hunter promised. “I’ve got you.”

He didn’t move until she did, both of them picking their way through the calf-high snow to where Hunter’s car was parked on the cemetery’s access road. Getting in had been a challenge since the groundskeeper hadn’t worked on Christmas, but they’d figured it out, just like they always did.

Hunter blasted the heat on the drive back to the Hartleys’ house, and by the time they arrived Bobbi had peeled off both his jacket and hers, leaving her in just her sweater. That turned out to be fortuitous, since a fire roared in the hearth of the den, kicking the temperature of the room up a fair few degrees.

“Hey, Bobbi,” Vic greeted when they walked through the door. “How was it?”

“It was okay,” Bobbi said, voice trembling as she tried to hold back a fresh wave of tears. There was no other way to describe what it was like to see the graves again. She couldn’t say it was bad, because seeing her parents was never bad, but since they were dead it couldn’t be good either, and…

“Come here.” Vic folded her up into a tight hug, and Bobbi sank into it. Victoria could be stony upon first meeting (and second, and third…) but once she cracked, she cracked hard. It wasn’t even that she had a mushy inside that spilled out, just that there was something familiar about cracked stone. Bobbi didn’t mind the hard edges — she had more than a few herself — and mostly it just felt nice that someone else cared.

“Your gifts are under the tree,” Vic said, holding Bobbi out at arm’s length before releasing her. “Iz and I will be upstairs if you need anything. Idaho’s over at Mike’s so he won’t interrupt.”

“Thanks, Mum,” Hunter said, offering Vic a small smile before leading Bobbi to the couch.

“You need a minute?” Hunter asked as they settled in. Bobbi nodded, resting her head against his shoulder and tangling their fingers together. The quiet house and crackling fire brought about a different kind of peace than the snowball fights and endless presents of yesterday, but one Bobbi needed just as much.

“Just think,” Hunter said, running his hands through her hair. “This time next year you’ll get to tell your parents all about your first semester at college.”

“If I get in.”

“Why do you think you’re not going to get in?” Hunter asked, which was at least one step above blindly insisting she would get accepted into OSU.

“I just… thinks don’t go right for me,” Bobbi sighed. He knew that — he’d seen it happen.

“I’ll try not to take personal affront to that.”

“One thing went right for me,” Bobbi amended, squeezing his hand. “Asking for another seems like a lot.”

“It’s not asking,” Hunter said. “You’ve done everything you need to get in and more. I read your essays, I saw your grades, and if Dr. Cho has anything bad to say about her star Olympian I’ll eat my shoe.’

“I’m not a star,” Bobbi grumbled. She and Anne were the two best competitors on the Science Olympiad team, but that was at least in part because they were both seniors and had had longer to learn everything.

“You’re my star,” Hunter said, smiling. “My shining star, the apple of my eye, my creme de la creme —”

“Shut up,” Bobbi laughed, cuddling closer to Hunter. “I love you. And your optimism.”

“One of us needs to be an optimist,” Hunter said. “I’m in a pretty good position to be that one.” Of course he was — Hunter was proof that life could get better, for the lucky ones. He had been shunted from home to home until ending up with the Hartleys, and they’d been his happy ever after. He could believe in lucky breaks, because he’d already had his.

They sat in silence for a few minutes longer, snuggled close together as they watched the fire.

“Ready for presents?” Bobbi asked eventually.

“As I’ll ever be.” Hunter got up to grab the presents from under the tree — Vic and Izzy’s to Bobbi, his to Bobbi, and Bobbi’s to him — and set them at their feet.

“Speaking of presents. What was this I heard about you trying to buy me a laptop?”

Hunter froze. “They weren’t supposed to tell you that part.”

“Well they did,” Bobbi said, neglecting to add Phil and Melinda had shared that tidbit with her so she would accept the gift they gave. “What were you thinking, Hunter?”

“Well.” Hunter sank back onto the sofa. “You’re going to be mad when I say it.”

“I’m not,” Bobbi insisted. She hoped he hadn’t interpreted her incredulity as anger, but now wasn’t the time to ask that.

“I was just thinking that eventually, it’s going to be my job to take care of you. And it’ll be your job to take care of me,” Hunter rushed to add before she could get up in arms about how archaic of a view that was. “I know marriage is still a long way off for us but I guess I just…”

“Wanted to prove you would eventually be a good husband by buying me something expensive?” Bobbi scoffed.

“When you put it like that it sounds stupid,” Hunter sighed. “Just forget about it.”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” Bobbi said softly. Even if Hunter’s logic hadn’t been the most sound, she could appreciate the sentiment behind it. “I just… I already know you’re going to take care of me. You’ve been doing it since we met.”

“You’ve taken care of me, too,” he whispered.

“I know.” Bobbi leaned in to kiss him. “Notice how that never involved purchasing you expensive electronics.”

“I wouldn’t say no to an X-Box…” Hunter teased, pecking her lips again. “Though I don’t reckon that’s what this is.”

“Sorry, but no.” Even with the allowance money she’d been saving Bobbi wouldn’t have been able to afford that.

“You do mine first,” Hunter prompted. He had obviously wrapped the present himself — the corners weren’t as sharp as the present from Vic and Izzy, and the tape job was messy at best — and that small touch was enough to make Bobbi’s heart melt. When she got the present open, her already-melting heart became an absolute slush puddle.

The Story of Us. The scrapbook had a picture of her and Hunter on the cover from when they had just met — her awkward and gangly, him more awkward and ganglier.

Bobbi flipped open the first page without prompting, tears springing to her eyes when she began to read the hand-written note beside another copy of their oldest picture together. We met when we were fourteen, and I thought you were absolutely mental — which was why I knew you had to be my best friend.

Bobbi began paging through the rest of the scrapbook, surprised by just how many photos Hunter had been able to scrounge up. She was even more excited to more thoroughly read the notes he had written on each page, about her and their relationship and everything in between.

“How long did this take you?” Bobbi asked. The pages were decorated beyond just the photos and notes, and while she had never been into scrapbooking as a hobby (seeing as she didn’t have many memories worth recollecting), from what she ascertained it could take longer than was intuitive.

“Doesn’t matter,” Hunter said. “Gave me an excuse to look at your pretty face for hours on end either way.”

“Stop it,” Bobbi said, flushing as she pulled him in for a kiss.

“You love me,” Hunter said against her mouth.

“Very much,” Bobbi agreed.

“My mums’ present kind of goes along with it,” Hunter prompted. “Open that.”

“Bossy,” Bobbi said, but did as she was told anyways.

“Oh, wow,” she said when she lifted the Polaroid out of the remnants of the wrapping paper.

“So we can keep making memories together,” Hunter supplied. “If you want to.”

“If I want to,” Bobbi repeated mockingly. “I’m always going to want more memories with you, stupid.”

“Good,” Hunter said. “Otherwise I’d have to kick you out of my house.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Or would I?”

“Hunter!”

“You could never, ever, ever get me to go to New York City on New Year’s Eve,” Bobbi declared, playing with Hunter’s fingers idly as they sat on the Coulsons’ sofa together.

“I just wonder about how anyone goes to the bathroom,” Hunter said. “No place is open. It doesn’t look like they have Portapottys. Does everyone just pee in the streets?”

“I think the key is you have to know someone who lives nearby,” Daisy put in from her position on the floor. She handed Bobbi the bowl of chips wordlessly when she reached for them. “Wait until the last minute, pee right before you go, and as soon as the ball drops you skedaddle.”

“Just seems like a lot of work to me to do that when it’s just as fun on television,” Bobbi said. She stopped playing with Hunter’s hand to take a handful of potato chips, feeding him one when he opened his mouth in askance. “What do you really gain from being there in person other than frostbite and the chance of being pickpocketed?”

“Ambiance,” Phil said, entering the room with another bowl of snacks — pretzels this time. “It’s a lot of fun.”

“Wait, Dad, you’ve been to the ball drop?! And we’ve never heard about it before?!”

“You’ve never asked before,” Phil said, settling on the couch on Bobbi’s other side. “I went for the drop in Y2K. Needless to say, it was a little crazy.”

“But where did you pee?” Bobbi asked so Hunter wouldn’t have to.

“I had a friend,” Phil said vaguely.

“You have a friend who lives in New York City who we’ve never heard about!?” Daisy all but shouted.

“Several, actually. But we don’t talk much anymore,” Phil said.

“You should call them!” Daisy insisted. “Right now! I wanna know all about how you guys rang in Y2K.”

“Well. They kind of think I’m dead.”

“What!?” All three teenagers said in unison.

“That is a story for another time,” Melinda said. She had two bottles of champagne and one of sparkling apple juice in an ice bucket, ready to pop them when the clock hit midnight. “Bobbi, is Hunter staying the night?”

“Can he?” she asked hopefully. She hadn’t asked earlier because it seemed like pushing her luck after how amazing the holiday would been.

“I’m sure his mothers would feel more comfortable knowing he didn’t have to share the road with people who perhaps weren’t as careful with their alcohol consumption as they should be,” Melinda said. “If that’s what you both want.”

Bobbi didn’t have to look at Hunter to know he was nodding enthusiastically.

“If I get any whiff of funny business, this will be the last time the offer is extended,” Melinda said sternly.

“I’m never funny,” Hunter rushed to assure her. Bobbi elbowed him in the ribs.

“Thanks, Melinda.” It was entirely inconvenient that Melinda began with the same letter as Mom, because since her near slip-up on Christmas her tongue kept wanting to make the same mistake — especially when Melinda was doing something nice like this.

“Mom, did you go to the ball drop with Dad in 2000?” Daisy said, obviously not ready to stop wheedling.

“We weren’t dating then,” Melinda answered curtly.

“Not what I asked, but okay.” Daisy had obviously gotten the message from her mother’s glare to give up for now. Bobbi hid a smile in Hunter's shoulder. Melinda and Phil hadn't been dating then because they had been married, which Daisy should've realized if she did any math. It was a clever way to avoid the question, Bobbi would give her foster mother that. “Bobbi, best New Year’s Eve story, go!”

“Last year Vic and Izzy gave us champagne for the first time on New Year’s Eve,” Bobbi began.

“Aw, Bob, no —”

“And Idaho made Hunter start laughing right as he took a big sip, and he ended up spraying it out his nose,” she finished triumphantly.

“I couldn’t smell for a week after,” Hunter grumbled. “I don’t know why that’s your favorite memory.”

“Because she loves you,” Daisy said, throwing a pretzel at Hunter’s head. “Duh.”

“Yeah, Hunter. Duh,” Bobbi laughed. She liked having backup in ribbing him that wasn’t one of his family members — it made teasing a lot more fun.

“Why don’t you go get Kora and Fitz for the countdown?” Melinda suggested to Daisy when a graphic flared across the screen announcing there were five more minutes left until the new year. Fitz had holed himself in his room working on some project or other and Kora had decided to take a nap so she wasn’t as cranky tomorrow, but both had requested to be notified when the time for the countdown came.

Once Daisy was upstairs, Melinda popped open one of the bottles, meting out four glasses.

“If she asks, you’re drinking apple juice,” Melinda said sternly as she handed Bobbi and Hunter their flutes.

“Yes ma’am,” Hunter said obediently.

Melinda proceeded to pour three glasses of apple juice for Daisy, Fitz, and Kora, arranging them so they were obviously separate from the alcoholic beverages.

“Okay, everyone,” Phil said when the whole family was gathered. “I want us all to say one thing we’re hoping for in the new year, so we can toast to everything that’s coming!”

“I’ll start,” Melinda offered. “I hope for our family to stay happy, healthy, and whole.”

“I hope we get to travel someplace fun.” Daisy lifted her glass in a mock toast.

“I hope something interesting happens,” Fitz said.

“I hope we get to spread more love,” Kora said.

“I hope I get into college,” Bobbi said, clutching her glass tightly in one hand and Hunter’s hand in the other.

“Ditto,” Hunter said, though it wasn’t obviously clear if he meant he was wishing for her to get into college or himself to.

“And I hope all your wishes come true this year,” Phil finished. Just as he was doing so, the countdown began.

“Ten!” Bobbi and Hunter stood so they could see the television screen over Kora’s head. Bobbi leaned into Hunter’s side, glad that he hadn’t tried to let go of her hand.

“Nine!” Multicolor spotlights danced over the crowd in Times Square, the crowd crashing and surging as everyone tried to get a better view at the ball

“Eight!” Daisy lofted her glass even higher into the air, and even from a distance she was clearly shaking with excitement.

“Seven!” Phil scooted closer to Melinda, wrapping an arm around her waist.

“Six!” Fitz bounced on the tips of his toes, impatient despite how imminent the end of the wait was.

“Five!” The crowd on the television let out a hoarse screech at the prospect of being halfway through the countdown and just seconds away from a new beginning.

“Four!” Melinda caught Bobbi’s eye across the room, giving her a small, encouraging smile.

“Three!” Kora brought her hands up to cover her mouth, holding back a squeak of excitement.

“Two!” Bobbi turned towards Hunter, meeting his eyes. This was exactly how she wanted to start and end every year — happiness sparkling in her stomach like the champagne in her glass, safe and warm and happy with her family nearby and him by her side.

“One!” In that single last moment between the old year and the new one, Bobbi allowed herself a moment of sorrow for everything she was leaving behind — but only a moment, because there was so much to hope for in the year ahead. Being able to be excited, being able to be hopeful, was something entirely new, and that only made this new chapter all the sweeter.

“Happy New Year!” Bobbi pressed her lips against Hunter’s as the fireworks began exploding around them. Kora ran into the kitchen to begin banging pots and pan as the rest of the family toasted again and again, pouring glasses of apple juice and champagne for the year that had passed and the one that was to come.

“I have a feeling,” Bobbi said when she broke away from Hunter, “that this is going to be a really great year.”

Chapter Text

“Fitz? Can I come in?”

Bobbi hoped the grunt was one of affirmation and swung the door open. She’d never been in Fitz’s room before, and it startled her just how small it felt. Probably because literally every flat surface was covered in… calling it junk would be unkind, but Bobbi couldn’t recognize a purpose for most of what sat on Fitz’s nightstand, nor his dresser or desk. She focused herself on her foster brother — his room wasn’t some curio shop for her to stare at.

“I was wondering if I could talk to you about something,” she said awkwardly.

Fitz looked up from the circuit board he was bent over. “Hunter finally ready to hear the truth about Liverpool?”

Bobbi cracked a smile. “No, not about soccer — football,” she corrected before Fitz could do it. “About your mom. Your biological mom.”

“My mum?” Fitz set down his circuit board and whatever tool was in his hand (was that a soldering iron?!), turning his full attention to Bobbi. “What do you want to know about her?”

“I guess it’s more about you than about her,” Bobbi admitted. “How do you… doesn’t it hurt to still talk to her, and know she isn’t…” Bobbi struggled to find the words to explain what she meant. How could Fitz call Melinda his mother so easily when he still talked with the woman who gave birth to him? How could he not be angry all the time that she was out there, and she still didn’t want him?

“You want to go visit your nana,” Fitz surmised.

Bobbi nodded miserably. Ever since thinking about her nana on Christmas, she hadn’t been able to get the idea of a reunion out of her head. Melinda had contacted Mr. Gonzales, who had found out that her nana had moved into a nursing home shortly after giving up custody of Bobbi. From the Googling Bobbi had done, the nursing home specialized in memory care, which meant whatever had been wrong with her nana wasn’t getting better. Not that she’d expected it to, after years in a steady decline, but…

“I can still talk to my mum because I know that she did what was best for me. My da wasn’t a good man, and if she hadn’t gotten me away from him there was a good chance I’d not be alive right now.” Fitz said it so clinically, but the thought made Bobbi recoil anyways. She wondered briefly if Fitz envied her, because at least she was in the system because her parents were dead, not because they were bad people. She certainly would find it hard to swallow.

“I know it’s a cliche that sometimes adoption is the best option, but in my case, it was. And I know it was hard for my mum, because she loved me more than anything. I can’t punish her for making the hard choice, and cutting off contact would feel like a punishment.” Fitz shrugged. “Besides, there’s room in my heart for more than one person. I love all my sisters, I love both my brothers, and I love both my mums.”

“But what if… what if she hadn’t done it for you?” Bobbi asked, voice small.

“What happened between you and your nana?” Fitz asked bluntly. “Because Mum and Dad don’t tell us anything and I don’t think I understand what you’re asking.”

“CPS took me from her because Hunter called in a tip that I was being neglected.” Or Vic or Izzy did on his behalf, Bobbi wasn’t entirely sure. “Rather than see what the judge said she’d need to fix to get me back again, she decided to petition to sever her rights to me.”

“And you’re wondering if you should forgive her for that.”

“I guess,” Bobbi said helplessly. “I just… I understand why she did it. She could barely take care of herself, let alone me. But it still hurts that she didn’t even try.”

“Yeah.” Bobbi couldn’t handle the pity in Fitz’s soft blue eyes, so she looked down at her feet instead. “Would it help if you told her this?”

Bobbi shrugged.

“Maybe you should talk to Dr. Garner?” Fitz suggested carefully. “He might help you figure out what you’re feeling better than I can.”

“I guess.” That’s what therapists were for. Too bad Bobbi trusted Fitz more than Dr. Garner.

“I’m still here if you want to talk,” Fitz said. “I’m just… better with machines than with people.”

That, Bobbi could understand. She would take a bio lab over a conversation any day. “Thanks, Fitz.” Bobbi picked her way back out of the bedroom, not wanting to disturb any of Fitz’s bits and bobs, and shut the door gently behind her.

So much for gaining more clarity.

---

“We’ll wait right outside,” Phil said, patting Bobbi’s shoulder awkwardly.

She nodded, clutching the bouquet of flowers she was holding tighter. Dr. Garner thought it would be good for her to see her nana (he hadn’t said as much, but he’d gently nudged her towards getting “closure”, whatever the hell that meant), so Phil and Melinda had organized a visit to the nursing home. The place was larger than she thought, with drafty hallways and laminate floors that were easy to clean but bounced even the smallest of sounds around into infinite echoes.

“She’s having a bad day today,” the orderly warned as he opened the door into Bobbi’s nana’s room. “She might not recognize you.”

Might not recognize her? Bobbi’s nana hadn’t been good at remembering day-to-day things like whether she had cooked dinner or paid the bills, but she’d always been able to tell who people were. Still, it was too late to turn back now.

Her nana sat in a plush armchair that nearly seemed to swallow her whole, paying attention to the tiny television on the other side of the room and not the people who had just walked through the door.

“Marjorie,” the orderly said, his voice soft and coaxing. “You have a visitor.”

Her nana turned around, her face lighting up when she saw Bobbi. “Susan!”

Bobbi gripped the glass vase even tighter, and she had to force herself to relax before she accidentally shattered it.

“I told you Susan would come and visit,” her nana admonished the orderly. “Why haven’t you brought Robert with you?”

“He… he was busy,” Bobbi stuttered out, her throat clutching at the words before she could spit them up. She’d read somewhere that when people with dementia talked about people who were dead, you weren’t supposed to correct them or remind them of what they’d lost. Telling her nana she wasn’t Susan, and that both Susan and Robert were dead, wasn’t a good idea. The orderly hovered closer to her, ready to intervene, but Bobbi found her voice again. “I brought flowers.”

“You can just set them right there, dear.” Her nana gestured to a low end table piled high with magazines. Bobbi glanced at the orderly for permission, and when he nodded she set the glass vase down. The bouquet of slightly-wilted yellow flowers stood out against the browns and beiges of the rest of the room, but Bobbi thought the pop of color was nice.

“Always busy, that one,” her nana tutted. “You have told him that he needs to be around more when you two have children, don’t you?”

“Yeah, Mom,” Bobbi lied, nearly choking on the word she hadn’t said in so long. “I’ve told him.” She didn’t remember her dad ever being too busy for her when she was growing up, so her mom must’ve told him. And he must’ve listened.

They managed a short conversation, maybe two or three minutes, before her nana got distracted by the television again and forgot Bobbi was there. Or rather, she forgot Bobbi’s dead mother was there, since that’s who she had been talking to. The orderly quietly nudged Bobbi out of the room, taking off down the hallway to whatever his other duties for the day were and leaving Bobbi alone to her thoughts.

She looked enough like her mother that in her grandmother’s time-addled brain they were one and the same, and that… hurt. It hurt in a way Bobbi hadn’t prepared for.

She’d prepared for excuses, knowing none of them would never been enough to make her feel better. She’d prepared for apologies, knowing no amount of apologies could change the situation she was in.

She hadn’t prepared for her nana not to know her at all.

It was closure, maybe, but it was closure in the cruelest way, because now Bobbi couldn’t blame her nana. Not because she was sick, but because if Bobbi was given the choice, she would live in the past, too. She would live in a world where her daughter was still young and vibrant and alive, and…

And somehow that didn’t make it hurt any less.

She held it together long enough to make it out the front door of the nursing home, where Phil and Melinda were waiting as promised. They stood, prepared to go to the car, but before they could start walking Bobbi plowed into Melinda, wrapping her arms around her foster mother and burying her face in her hair moments before the tears started.

“Shh, shh.” Melinda wrapped her arms around Bobbi, rubbing calming circles into her back. “It’s okay.”

“She thought —” Bobbi grabbed at the words, having a hard time getting enough air in through her sobs. “She thought I was my mom.”

“Oh, honey,” Melinda murmured, holding her closer. “I’m so sorry.”

Bobbi wanted to say it was fine, but it wasn’t fine. None of this was fine, and it would never be fine.

“Let’s go for a drive,” Phil suggested softly. “They won’t be needing us back home for a while.”

Bobbi nodded, following him back to the car in shuffling steps. When Melinda got into the backseat with her instead of the passenger’s seat, she didn’t protest — just took her foster mother’s hand when she offered it, and didn’t let go.

---

It wasn’t the best way to end the weekend before the first day of school, but Bobbi didn’t have much of a choice. Asking to stay home from school because of emotional distress wouldn’t work — and with the first competition for Science Olympiad coming up, she needed to be at every practice.

No sooner had Bobbi flopped onto the bed than there was a scratching at the door. Bobbi carefully placed Birdie and Pàng on her desk before letting Cap into the room. Their relationship hadn’t been the same after he’d destroyed Birdie, but now that she had Birdie back Bobbi found it much easier to forgive the dog for his mistake.

Cap hopped up onto the bed without invitation and Bobbi huffed out a sigh before squeezing into the space he had left her.

“You know, this is my room,” she grumbled. “And my bed. You should at least be more polite.”

Cap whuffed but did not offer Bobbi any more room — probably because he was a dog and didn’t understand English.

“He’s a bit of an arse sometimes.”

Bobbi looked up to see Fitz standing in the still-open door of her room.

“I think we all are,” she said, pushing herself up onto her elbows so she could see Fitz over Cap’s now-sleeping body. How that dog could go from wide awake to dead asleep in ten seconds, she’d never know.

“Can I come in?” Fitz asked awkwardly. Bobbi nodded, and her foster brother shut the door behind him when he stepped across the threshold.

“You went to the nursing home today.” It was a statement, not a question, but Bobbi nodded again anyways. “It didn’t go well.” Another not-question that she felt the need to respond to.

“It could’ve gone better.” She’d managed to calm down before coming back home, so her foster siblings hadn’t seen her cry, but it wasn’t like she could hide her puffy eyes or tear-stained cheeks.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “For encouraging you to go.”

Bobbi scoffed. “You didn’t, really.” The closest Fitz had come to suggesting she go visit her nana was asking if it would make Bobbi feel better to tell her about everything she was feeling. Unless he blamed himself because Dr. Garner had encouraged her to go, and Fitz was the one who had directed her to talk to her about her therapist. “Even if you had, it wouldn’t be your fault.” Bobbi wasn’t sure anyone could have expected her visit would go the way it did. Bobbi didn’t think even Mr. Gonzales knew how bad her nana’s memory had gotten, since that was her personal medical information and her nana’s trip through the court system was complete. Her memory or lack thereof wasn’t relevant to Mr. Gonzales, or anyone else in CPS, now that her parental rights were severed.

“I still feel bad,” Fitz said, leaning back against the door. “I mean — it’s not really fair, is it? I’ve got two mums who love me, and all you’ve got is…”

“Five more months in a foster home,” Bobbi finished when Fitz wouldn’t. She knew he didn’t mean to rub her face in the situation, but it was inevitable with the conversation they were having. “Life isn’t fair, right?” Some would argue it wasn’t fair that Fitz had been taken from his biological mother — that there was ever a situation where a child would be safer with someone else.

“I guess not,” Fitz sighed. “Still…”

“I got what I needed to get,” Bobbi said firmly. If nothing else, she wasn’t going to visit the nursing home again anytime soon — which meant she could stop thinking about her nana. Maybe eventually she’d explain everything that happened to her foster siblings (Daisy, definitely, would want to know the story), but she hoped that knowing Bobbi was making peace with the situation would help Fitz make peace with it too.

Fitz slid down the door so he was sitting on her floor, knees against his chest. “But don’t you ever want more?”

Bobbi sank back down into her bed, pressing her face between Cap’s shoulder blades to hide the sudden flood of tears. “Of course I do. But it’s not like I can waltz up to your parents and say hey Phil, hey Melinda, I think you should adopt me especially now that I know there’s a zero percent chance I’ll have anything resembling my old life back.”

“Why not?”

“Because that’s not the way it works!” Bobbi said, fighting to keep the anger out of her voice. It wasn’t Fitz’s fault that things didn’t work that way. He didn’t remember, because he’d been a kid when he was adopted, just like Daisy and Kora had been kids. “If they wanted me, they would’ve said something by now.” Mack had told her the idea of adopting her had never even come up for Phil and Melinda, and Bobbi doubted they were going to change their mind. What were they going to gain by adopting her, anyways? Just the expense of sending a child to college and a surly, traumatized teenager.

“You could ask them.”

Bobbi popped her head up so Fitz could see the incredulous expression on her face. “Ask them?”

“It’s what Daisy did. At least according to Trip.”

“It was probably cute when Daisy did it,” Bobbi defended. When a kid asked to be adopted, it was adorable, but if she asked, it would just seem… desperate. And then it would be awkward when they said no and they’d probably send her back into the system so she didn’t get too attached and… It was better just to keep the good thing they had going and not try to change things.

“But if you could ask, you would?” Fitz pushed.

“I don’t know.” Seeing her nana had changed something, Bobbi knew, but she wasn’t sure what. Maybe it was the feeling of betrayal she got whenever she considered letting herself be happy with the Coulsons. She couldn’t betray someone who didn’t even remember she existed. Bobbi didn’t want to think about that in relation to her parents, though. Whether she was betraying them (and they were aware of the betrayal) hinged on whether or not there was an afterlife, and Bobbi suspected she wouldn’t know the answer to that question until long after she turned eighteen, if ever. And even if things had changed for her, they hadn’t changed for the Coulsons.

“Why are you so stuck on this?” Bobbi asked. “You don’t need to — to make it up to me, or something.”

“I just want you to be happy,” Fitz said. “We all do.”

Bobbi bit back a sarcastic retort. She had never gotten the impression Fitz particularly cared about her happiness — they’d hardly spent any time together just the two of them — but saying so wasn’t exactly fair or useful. Instead, she said, “You can’t force someone else to be happy.”

“I know you can’t,” Fitz said, exasperation creeping into his voice. “But I’m just trying to help.”

I don’t need your help!

“I’ll be fine, Fitz,” she assured him. “I always have been.” Even before Hunter, she had been fine.

Fitz grumbled something she couldn’t hear before pushing himself to standing. “Night.”

“Goodnight.” The conversation ended abruptly, and Bobbi wondered if had something to do with whatever Fitz had said too quietly for her to catch. Either that or he was just tired and wanted to go to bed. Bobbi also wanted to go to bed, but first she needed to get the dog off her bed — or at least make him pick a side.

Bobbi sighed as she tried to shove Cap over to no avail. “You’re really lucky you’re cute.”

Chapter Text

“Hi Dr. Weaver!” Bobbi chirped when Anne’s mother opened the door to the house. “I’m here for —”

“I know why you’re here, Bobbi,” Dr. Weaver answered, amused. “They’re down in the basement. Pizza should be here any minute.”

“Thanks!” Bobbi toed her shoes off before padding downstairs to join Anne and the rest of the Science Olympiad team in her best friend’s basement. They’d just spent two hours after school practicing, but the list of practice questions they’d gotten wrong was too long for anyone’s comfort, so they’d elected for an impromptu practice session at Anne’s house. Her parents were more than happy to host and Bobbi was more than happy to have an excuse to spend more time with her friends — she’d just needed to swing by the Coulsons’ so she could pick up her laptop (her laptop!) and tell them she was missing dinner first.

“Hey Bobbi!” Anne greeted when she made her way to the plush sectional that dominated Anne’s basement. “We just finished assigning practice questions. I picked bio and engineering for you, that okay?”

“Yup!” Mack’s motorcycle obsession was paying off, because he had spent the better part of an hour last night explaining how engines worked to her in great detail and Bobbi actually understood most of it. She still wasn’t an engineering aficionado, but with a little more studying she could at least stand a fighting chance.

Her phone pinged before she could look at the list of questions, and Bobbi made a soft apologetic noise before setting it to silent.

“That your boyfriend?” Donnie asked from the floor.

“No, my brother. He’s paint shopping,” Bobbi said, typing a quick response out to Mack before returning to her list of questions. “His wife put him in charge of the nursery and he’s panicking.”

“I didn’t know your brother was married,” Anne said.

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Callie, a sophomore, added. She hadn’t spent much time with Bobbi given their difference in age. Science Olympiad put them in the same room several times a week, but it didn’t lend itself much to socializing.

“It’s complicated.” Bobbi shrugged. She had somewhere between zero and four brothers, depending on who you asked, which she knew got a little confusing. “But yeah, Mack’s married. I like his wife a lot. But finding a nursery theme that works with the rest of their house is a nightmare, because she doesn’t really do pastel.” Elena liked things bright and bold. Personally, Bobbi thought more nurseries could do with bright colors, but it was difficult to pull off when every baby store just had endless blush pink and baby blue — and mint green and pale yellow if you were lucky. She’d spent enough time browsing Pinterest to know.

“Your parents must be really excited, huh?” Callie asked.

Bobbi’s heart stumbled in her chest. “Uh, yeah. They are.”

Anne obviously noticed Bobbi’s discomfort and stepped in. “Remember, we’re here to study and not to gossip.”

Bobbi gave her a grateful smile before looking back down at her list of questions. She should’ve gotten the first one, at the very least, during practice — they had just reviewed the concept in AP Bio and she’d understood it in class.

If she was going to have any hope of getting the Science Olympiad scholarship, she needed to do better.

---

“Do you think this looks more like Capri, or Maui Blue?” Bobbi asked, squinting at the two paint chips. After Mack’s trip to the hardware store had proved fruitless, they’d decided to try a different tact: matching paint swatches to the rug Elena had picked for the nursery. It was beautiful, soft and plush and patterned with triangles spanning the whole rainbow.

“Capri?” Mack didn’t sound certain.

“Capri it is,” Bobbi said, adding it to the pile of paint chips they’d already accrued. The base color of the rug and the room was a warm off-white titled Buttercream, which had been hell to find. Why were there so many shades of white?! And how did most of them manage to look wrong?! Bobbi still wasn’t convinced Buttercream was the best match — it seemed too dark and saturated — but Ecru was even worse, and that was the color Mack had pulled for.

“We could probably find some nice crib sheets in that color,” Mack mused. “It’s close enough to baby blue that it might not be sacrilege.”

“Maybe we could paint the dresser that color too?” Bobbi suggested. “It would complement the hardwood floors nicely.”

“It would,” Mack agreed. “You’ve been spending a lot of time on Pinterest, haven’t you?”

“Where else am I supposed to find nursery design stuff?” Bobbi asked. “Okay, Pink Frosting or Begonia Pink?”

“I feel like we have to go Begonia,” Mack said. “We already have Buttercream walls. We don’t need more frosting.”

“What about frosting?” Elena asked, poking her head into the room.

“Paint colors, not cake,” Bobbi sighed. “Sorry.”

“Not your fault,” Elena hummed. “Mack, do we have any cake mix?”

“Pantry, bottom left. There should be some frosting in there too.” Mack grinned at his wife. “That’s your third cake this week, Yo-Yo.”

“It’s not my fault your child has a sweet tooth,” Elena said breezily, lifting her shoulder in a half-hearted shrug. “Besides, we need to repay Bobbi for her hard work somehow.”

“You really don’t,” Bobbi said, flopping forward onto her stomach. “You know I like hanging out here. Might as well make myself useful.”

“You’re plenty useful even when you’re not making up for my utter lack of design knowledge,” Mack said. “Do you think it’s possible I’m colorblind?”

Bobbi laughed. “I think if you were you’d know by now. It’s Pantone’s fault for making all their colors look the exact same.”

“Speaking of… Fiesta, or Grenadine?”

“My heart says Fiesta, but my eyes say Grenadine,” Bobbi said. “What do you think — picture frames? Or a throw pillow?”

“Both?” Mack asked, cocking his head. “Is both an answer?”

“Let’s see what Pinterest says.” Bobbi dragged her laptop from where it had been exiled in the corner. “There are some cool red and white throw pillows. Some of them have gray too to tie in the…”

“Elephant Skin,” Mack said, reading the title off the paint chip. “Lovely.”

“Gives me a good idea for a baby shower gift though,” Bobbi said. She was sure there were a hundred cute stuffed elephant toys she could get.

“You really don’t have to do that,” Mack said. “Your help is more than enough of a gift.”

“Come on, I need to give the kid something. It’s not like you can hug a bunch of paint swatches.”

“I could if I tried.”

“Mack,” Bobbi said, fondly exasperated. “Come on. It’s one stuffed animal. That’s like, one week of allowance, tops.”

“If you say so.”

“I do say so,” Bobbi insisted. “Besides, since Mom and Dad got me the laptop for Christmas it’s not like I have anything I’m saving for right now.”

It took ten seconds of Mack staring at her for Bobbi to realize what she had just said. “I mean, Phil and Melinda,” she corrected weakly.

“Is that what you mean?” Mack quirked an eyebrow up.

“I don’t know,” Bobbi huffed, hiding her face in her arms. She inhaled — the carpet still had new-carpet smell, which wasn’t exactly pleasant, but she couldn’t look Mack in the eyes right now. “I was just thinking about parents since we’re in a nursery, probably.”

“Probably?” Mack shuffled over, sprawling out on his stomach beside Bobbi.

“Someone told you about going to visit my nana, right?”

“Daisy said you seemed really bummed out afterward. Fitz was uncharacteristically quiet.”

Bobbi snorted. Fitz and uncharacteristically quiet didn’t belong in the same sentence — he was tight-lipped about just about everything, except for his latest engineering projects. “That’s because he thinks somehow he caused the whole thing, which is stupid.”

“What happened?”

“She didn’t remember me. Called me my mom’s name, asked me questions about my dad. Dumb stuff.”

“Barbara,” Mack said gently. “I hope someone else has told you that’s not dumb.”

“Phil and Melinda did,” she agreed in a whisper. “I don’t know. I guess a part of me was still hoping that my life would eventually go back to the way it was, and then… it’s definitely not going to.” Even if her nana hadn’t had parental rights anymore, there was still a chance they could’ve been their own sort of family, once Bobbi had a job and made enough money to support them both. That didn’t seem to be an option anymore.

“And Mom and Dad were there for that,” Mack said.

“Yeah. And I… I liked them being there.” She liked getting hugs from Melinda and Phil, as much as it embarrassed Bobbi to admit it. There was something different about a hug from a parent — something special, something safe. She felt it whenever Vic and Izzy hugged her, too, but… it would be nice to have that without having to drive to Hunter’s house. It would be nice to wake up in the middle of the night and know her parents were there if she needed them. It would be nice to feel normal.

“Have you told them that?”

“I don’t really know how.” Bobbi lifted her cheek off the carpet, hoping the pattern hadn’t left an imprint on her face. “And I don’t know how to ask if I can call them Mom and Dad.”

“You don’t really need to ask,” Mack pointed out. “You didn’t ask me before calling me your brother.”

“But you had said it first,” Bobbi argued. “Phil and Melinda haven’t called themselves my parents. They don’t even use the words foster parents. It’s always foster caregivers.” Bobbi knew technically that was the correct verbiage, since most kids in the foster care system were going back to their biological parents and it would be confusing for them to have to give up their “parents”, but it still niggled at her.

Mack shrugged. “They probably have their reasons.”

“Like not wanting to be my parents,” Bobbi said, which was the most obvious reason, in her opinion.

“Like following protocol,” Mack corrected. “Mom is big on that. Besides, if they said it, would you be ready to hear it?”

Bobbi didn’t answer, mostly to avoid giving Mack the satisfaction of being right.

“That’s what I thought. It’ll happen when it’s meant to happen.”

“You know I don’t believe in the whole God’s design thing,” Bobbi said sullenly.

“You don’t have to believe in God to believe that things will work out the way they’re supposed to.” Mack smiled softly at her. “Though I won’t lie and say seeing things work out doesn’t make me believe in Him more.”

Bobbi let that sink in, turning her attention back to the carpet and tracing one of the triangles idly with the tip of her finger.

“Mack?”

“Hmm?”

“If things don’t work out, and I never see the Coulsons again after my birthday, can I still come visit?” Bobbi had realized when Mack started talking about the nursery timeline that his child was only going to be a month or so old when she turned eighteen. She would barely be more than a blip, and then she’d be gone… but she didn’t want to be.

“Barbara.” Bobbi looked at him, fighting back tears at the absolute affection in his eyes. “No matter what happens, my door is always going to be open to you, okay? You are always going to be safe with me.”

Bobbi wasn’t sure which made her more choked up — that Mack was saying those words, or that she believed him.

“Don’t cry,” Mack said, but it was too late. He sat up, pulling Bobbi close to him. “You deserve to feel safe, Bobbi. You deserve to feel wanted.”

“I know,” she sniffled. She’d been told that before, but it was scary to hear it and believe it. It was scary to feel safe and feel wanted, knowing it could all be taken away the moment she let herself give into the feeling. “But what if — what if they don’t want me, Mack? Fitz says I could just ask but I can’t — I can’t —” The watering eyes and sniffles turned into full-blown sobs, and Bobbi really, really hated how much she was crying recently.

“If you’re not ready to ask, you’re not ready to ask,” he soothed. “But I think anyone would be lucky to have you, Bobbi.”

“Too bad you can’t just adopt me,” Bobbi said wetly. Even as she said it, the idea sounded stupid. She loved Mack, more than she anticipated, but he wasn’t her dad. He would never be her dad, not the way she could imagine Phil being her dad someday. Besides, Mack already had his hands full with his job and his wife and the coming baby. Add court hearings to the mix and he would explode from the stress.

“You seem to talk about getting adopted an awful lot for someone who claims she doesn’t want it,” Mack said, no accusation in his voice.

“I don’t know.” Bobbi laid her head against Mack’s shoulder. “It’s like… I know I’m safe now. And I want to keep being safe. But I don’t know if getting adopted would actually help. Same way I didn’t know if I wanted a family or your family, until…” Until just now, actually. She wouldn’t be so heartbroken about any generic family not wanting her — that was just par for the course in the foster care system. But the Coulsons not wanting her… that would hurt.

“Walk me through that,” Mack said.

“I mean, me getting adopted doesn’t mean that lightning can’t strike Phil and Melinda and kill them both on the spot. And then I’d be back where I started.”

“Except that if they adopted you and then died, I could take you in kinship,” Mack pointed out. “And I would. Me and Trip would make sure you all had someplace to go.”

“Oh.” That was… devastatingly simple.

“Anything else?” Mack prompted.

“I… it seems like a lot to ask, you know? They already have five kids and a grandkid on the way and I’m… a lot.” A lot of time, a lot of money, a lot of problems. Right now Phil and Melinda were getting compensated by the county for taking care of her, but the minute she turned eighteen that compensation would stop. She didn’t stop being expensive then — if anything, she got more expensive, because of college and… well, mostly college. With her application done for OSU Bobbi was now meticulously planning out her financial pathway to get there. Her FAFSA form had been hell in a handbasket to fill out since she was a ward of the state, and her list of scholarships to apply to only grew every time she did more research. It was a lot, and she wasn’t going to delude herself into thinking it wasn’t.

“But you’re not really asking, are you?”

“Fitz said Daisy asked and that’s why she got adopted.”

“Mom and Dad were already planning on adopting her before she asked them,” Mack said. “Remember how I said that everyone has to be ready for an adoption to go right?” Bobbi nodded. “Daisy asking was how they knew she was ready.”

“But what if they weren’t already planning on adopting her?”

Mack shrugged. “I tend not to ask my parents complex hypothetical scenarios where they don’t want to adopt my baby sister.”

Fair point. Bobbi sighed. “This would be so much easier if I knew how Phil and Melinda felt.”

“Don’t think you’re going to like my suggestion.”

“If I ask them then that puts pressure on them!” Bobbi insisted. “And it’s weird and awkward and… too much.”

“It’s the only way you’re ever going to know for sure, though,” Mack said, “since they won’t talk to anyone else about your case.”

“…Do you think Mr. Gonzales would know if they planned to adopt me?”

“Barbara. Now you’re just being ridiculous.” And he was right: it was ridiculous to ask her case worker when she would honestly be more mortified by his judgment than her foster parents’. Mr. Gonzales had seen her through all her ups and downs, from the day CPS had come to take her from the hospital where her parents died to her delivery on the Coulsons’ doorstep. He knew her whole story, but he didn’t really know her. Besides, if the answer was no, and Phil and Melinda didn’t want to adopt her… Mr. Gonzales’s pity would just about destroy her.

“So,” Bobbi sighed. “Dragon Fire, or Exotic Orange?”

Mack released her from his hug so he could look at the orange swatches on the floor next to them. “I’m not entirely convinced those are two different colors.”

“Okay, maybe you are colorblind,” Bobbi laughed, wiping away the last stray tears. “They’re totally different.”

“Are not.”

“Are so.”

“Are not.”

“Are so!”

“Okay, oh master of design, where are we putting one of these totally-distinguishable shades of orange in this room? It’s starting to sound a little busy.”

“Look at your wife, then tell me that any room will ever be too busy for her.”

Mack laughed. “Okay, I get it. But seriously, how are we tying in the orange?”

“Rocking chair?”

“I vote yes on a rocking chair,” Elena said, poking her head in again. “My mother had one when I was a child. It was beautiful.”

“Mack, do you think you could make a rocking chair?” While mechanics were his specialty, Mack occasionally dabbled in carpentry. Bobbi couldn’t suggest he make every piece of furniture in the nursery from scratch — that would take forever — but a nice rocking chair could be a family heirloom. Or Bobbi thought it would; she wasn’t really sure how heirlooms worked.

“I could make a rocking chair,” he agreed, stretching. “Add it to the list.”

“And then come and take a break. You two have been cooped up for too long,” Elena said, clicking her tongue. “Honestly, Mack. Working your poor sister to death.”

“I’m fine, Elena. Promise.” She wasn’t going to admit that she and Mack had spent more time talking about Bobbi’s life than they did about the nursery. Either way, it was better to do what Elena said; she was quite stubborn when she wanted to be (which was all the time).

Besides, who would say no to cake? Only a robot or something.

Chapter Text

“The sign-in table’s right over there,” Melinda said, gesturing to the small folding table in The Academy’s atrium. “We’re going to go find some seats, but call if you have any trouble, okay?”

Bobbi nodded, wringing her hands nervously. Fitz’s magnet school was even more ritzy than she’d imagined and it wasn’t helping her nerves. Everything from the high-vaulted ceilings to the spotless marble floors — nothing like the plaster ceiling tiles and laminate floors of Shield High — made her nervous. Even worse, she was alone in enemy territory, since the rest of her team had failed to arrive thirty minutes early. Which was understandable, but also… Bobbi really wished Anne was there to psych her up for the competition to come.

“You’re going to do great, kiddo.” Phil squeezed her shoulder, and some of the worry in Bobbi’s stomach untangled. “Don’t worry.”

“Thanks,” Bobbi whispered, ignoring the ever-present threat of Dad accidentally tumbling out of her mouth again.

She approached the table nervously; behind it sat a pudgy, balding old man whose name tag read Dr. Hall.

“Hi. I’m here to sign in?”

“Last name?”

“Morse. First name Barbara.” She doubted there was anyone else with her surname, but still better to offer the information.

“Ah, with Shield High. Have you competed before?”

“No, sir.”

“Sir?” Dr. Hall laughed. “Been a while since I heard that one.”

“Um… Doctor?” Bobbi asked, not sure if that was what the man was getting at.

“Just Hall is fine,” he assured her. “Here’s your lanyard and your scorecard. The tables in the gymnasium are labeled with school names, so you can wait there for the rest of your team to arrive.”

“Thanks.” Bobbi looped her lanyard around her neck and followed Dr. Hall’s instructions to the gymnasium. Even the gym at The Academy was huge, with perfectly-waxed floors and bright white fluorescent lights that lit up every corner. There was probably some misguided thought process there about keeping the students from making out under the bleachers, but Bobbi didn’t allow that thought to linger for long. She did not want to think about Fitz making out with someone.

The tables in the auditorium were the same as the sign-in desk — that was, folding card tables with folding chairs huddled around them. Shield High’s table was near the back corner on account of S being near the end of the alphabet, and Bobbi perched herself on one of the folding chairs. She checked her phone to see if anyone had mentioned arriving in the group chat, but still nothing.

[Hunter]: You’re cute when you’re nervous.

Bobbi looked up from her phone, scanning the gymnasium until she found Hunter in the crowd. He sat next to Fitz, who could not have been paying less attention to anything that was happening. He was too busy staring at The Academy’s table (at the front of the gym, of course — nominally because A came at the beginning of the alphabet, but actually because they were hosting and were therefore allowed to place themselves wherever they wanted).

Bobbi rolled her eyes at Hunter, and he grinned back. Love you he mouthed with an overenthusiastic thumbs up.

Bobbi had insisted he didn’t need to come, especially since she hadn’t been able to make it to any of his track meets, but Hunter was Hunter and hadn’t stopped pestering her until she’d agreed it was alright for him to come. And of course once she’d mentioned it to Phil and Melinda they’d insisted he sit with them, and now he hopefully wasn’t sharing any of her deepest, darkest secrets with Fitz.

“Hey!”

“Oh, thank God you’re here,” Bobbi sighed when Anne slid into the chair next to her. “I was just thinking about the carrying capacity of populations and —”

“Bobbi. You know the answer,” Anne said soothingly. “You’re just getting first time jitters.”

“But —”

“You are going to do great. And I’m sure whatever you think you don’t know I have covered,” Anne said. “Don’t take all the enjoyment out of it by stressing yourself out.”

“Stressing out is kind of my specialty,” Bobbi said. Being the smart one, the competent one, the stressed one, was how she had stayed alive in the foster care system. When she let her guard down, bad things happened.

“I know. But that’s why you have me.” Anne grinned, and Bobbi managed a small smile back.

Don’t stress out. Have fun. She could do that, right?

---

“And in first place… Shield High!”

Polite applause filled the auditorium and Bobbi resisted the urge to let out an unsportsmanlike cheer. She had crossed her fingers when The Academy had been announced as second place, but hadn’t really believed they’d come in first until the announcer — a tall man with one eye named Nick Fury, which was basically the awesomest name ever — said as much.

Bobbi waited impatiently for Fury to say they were permitted to leave, and the moment he did she sprang up to meet her family in the bleachers. Hunter caught her in a fierce hug and Bobbi buried her nose in his neck, letting out a soft, pleased sigh.

“I knew you could do it,” he murmured.

“It wasn’t just me,” Bobbi protested. All of their team’s studying had paid off, and while she had definitely gotten some questions right, so had everyone else.

“Yeah, but you’re the only one on the team who’s my girlfriend.” Hunter pulled back, smiling widely, before pressing a kiss to her lips. “It’s my job to think you’re the coolest person ever.”

“A-hem,” Daisy said. “I get that you think Bobbi’s cool or whatever but so do I, so step aside, mister.”

“Daisy,” Melinda said, exasperated. “Let your sister talk with her boyfriend.”

“It’s fine,” Bobbi said, releasing Hunter to wrap her arms around Daisy instead.

“That was so cool! I texted Mack about the engine question you got right and he is totally geeking out.”

“Thank you,” Bobbi said. She wished Mack had been able to make it, but Elena had an obstetrician appointment and Bobbi agreed wholeheartedly that was more important. “I should probably go grab my phone before I forget.” The proctors had collected all electronic devices before the competition began to prevent cheating, but Bobbi didn’t want to leave her phone behind because she got too caught up in the congratulations. “Be right back!”

When she returned from the long line of students reclaiming their electronics, there was a short brunette hovering around the Coulson family.

“I didn’t know you were going to be here,” the brunette said to Fitz, who was already well on his way to sharing his coloration with a tomato.

“I, eh, came to see my sister,” Fitz said.

“Oh, Daisy joined Science Olympiad? I didn’t see her at Shield’s table!”

“Not me,” Daisy cut in. “This is our older sister, Bobbi.”

Fitz startled, oblivious to Bobbi’s return, but quickly recovered himself. “Yeah, this is Bobbi.”

The brunette looked between Fitz and Bobbi, brow furrowed. “You have an older sister?”

“I do,” Fitz said, crossing his arms over his chest and shuffling a half-step in front of Bobbi. “Is that a problem?”

“No, of course not!” The brunette wrung her hands nervously. “I just hadn’t realized.”

“It’s kind of a new thing,” Daisy interjected. “Bobbi started staying with us in September.”

The brunette’s eyes widened in apparent recognition. “Oh. Well, Fitz, your sister is very talented.”

Fitz’s stiff shoulders relaxed. “Yeah, she is. You all had better watch out or she’ll kick your arses.”

“I very much doubt that,” the brunette said with a smile. “But it’s sweet that you think so.”

“I know so!” Fitz said fiercely. “Bobbi’s even smarter than you, Simmons!”

Daisy’s jaw dropped.

Bobbi looked around the small circle of younger teenagers, feeling as if she had missed something.

“Oh good, you met Jemma.” Phil appeared behind Bobbi. “Sorry about the second place, Simmons.” He didn’t sound very sorry at all, and Bobbi fought back a pleased smile.

“It’s alright, sir. We’ll get them next time.” Jemma (Simmons? Bobbi wasn’t quite sure what her name was, honestly) was confident, at least.

“I don’t think you will.” Phil smiled serenely. “Bobbi, you’re going home with Hunter. We’ll have your celebratory dinner tomorrow night when Mack and Elena can make it.”

“Thanks, Phil,” Bobbi said. “Are you guys leaving now?”

“Kora would kill me if we left before she got to congratulate you.” As if summoned, Kora appeared to throw her arms around Bobbi, babbling excitedly about the competition she’d just watched.

“…and next time you’ll do even better!” Kora finished triumphantly.

“What’s better than first place, littlest Coulson?” Hunter asked, wrapping his arms around Bobbi from behind.

“Uh, first place twice in a row?” Kora answered, the tone of duh so blatant Bobbi couldn’t help but laugh.

“It’s not about winning or losing,” Melinda said, putting a hand on Kora’s shoulder, “just doing your best.”

“What she said,” Bobbi agreed, nodding sagely. Sure, it felt nice that her best was the best, but Bobbi hoped she would’ve found a way to enjoy Science Olympiad regardless of whether she won or not.

“We’re going to head out. Call if you need anything,” Melinda said.

“Good luck getting Fitz away from that Simmons character,” Hunter said. “Won’t even talk to me about football, the jerk.”

“Welcome to my life,” Melinda sighed.

---

Bobbi’s phone buzzed insistently, and she lifted her head off Hunter’s chest to fumble it into her hands.

Why was Phil calling?

“Whassamatter?” she slurred out.

“Hey, sweetheart,” Phil said. “Were you asleep?”

“Yeah?” Bobbi blinked. Why wouldn’t she be asleep? It was nighttime.

“Have you checked the time recently?” Phil asked patiently.

Why would she — “Curfew,” Bobbi groaned. Shit. “Sorry, Phil, we were watching a movie and I guess we must’ve both fallen asleep.” Bobbi checked her suspicions by poking at Hunter. He snuffled but didn’t wake up. She should’ve known watching a National Geographic movie after eating pizza was a bad idea. David Attenborough’s voice was just too soothing, especially with a heavy meal in her stomach.

She checked her phone’s clock and bit back another groan. 11:45. Not only had she missed curfew, but she’d blown it out of the water. She was going to be in so much trouble. “I’ll wake Hunter up so he can drive me home,” she said.

“Don’t bother,” Phil said. “I’m already on my way.”

Bobbi’s shoulders sagged. It couldn’t be good that Phil was making the drive rather than letting Hunter take her home. She probably needed to wake her boyfriend up anyways so he didn’t freak out when she was gone in the morning, and she much rather would’ve driven back to the Coulsons’ with him than with an angry foster father.

“Okay,” she whispered. “I’ll see you soon.”

“I’ll call when I get there,” Phil said. “See you soon, sweetheart.”

Bobbi ended the call, groaning again when she saw that was actually the fifth time Phil had called her in the last thirty minutes. There went all the goodwill and trust she’d been building up since Christmastime.

She jostled Hunter’s shoulder, sighing when he still wouldn’t wake up. The boy slept like the dead, but she really needed a hug right now.

“Hunter,” Bobbi hissed, shaking him harder. “Hunter!” She didn’t dare get much louder, since Izzy and Vic had also already gone to bed for the night and she didn’t plan to wake up the whole house.

“Lance!”

That one, along with a pinch to his upper arm, managed to get him awake.

“Wha’?” he asked sleepily. “Bob, what’s going on?”

“I missed curfew.”

“Aw, no!” Hunter grabbed his phone, checked the time, and sighed. “Shit. I’m sorry, I should’ve —”

Before he could finish his sentence, Bobbi’s phone rang again.

“You’re here?” Bobbi asked. That had been quick.

“I’m here,” Phil confirmed. “I can wait outside a minute if you need to say your goodbyes.”

“I — yeah. I’ll be out in a minute.” Bobbi stumbled off the couch, searching for where she’d discarded her jacket and shoes. Sleep still plucked at her, making it difficult to find her balance as she shoved her feet into her sneakers.

“Do you want me to tell him what happened?” Hunter asked, shifting from foot to foot. “It’s all my fault, I should’ve set an alarm or something, I —”

“It’s fine, Hunter,” Bobbi said, pulling him in and kissing him softly. It was bad enough she was freaked out about this; she didn’t need him freaking out and blaming himself too. “I already told him what happened.”

“Yeah, but…”

“If I get grounded for the rest of my life it’s a punishment for both of us,” Bobbi said, kissing him again. “Thanks for dinner and the movie.”

“Congratulations on your win,” he replied, sounding more grim than congratulatory when he pulled her in for one final kiss goodnight.

Bobbi threw on her jacket, but that didn’t stop her from shivering as she stepped into the midnight air. Phil’s car sat in the driveway, headlights on, and Bobbi hurried into the passenger seat.

“I’m sorry,” she blurted.

“Hello to you too,” Phil said. “It’s alright.”

“I’m really sorry,” Bobbi insisted. “I know it’s not an excuse but we didn’t mean to fall asleep and I promise I’ll do anything you want to make it up to you and Melinda.”

“I said, it’s alright,” Phil repeated calmly. “You made a mistake. I knew where you were and I knew you were safe, so it wasn’t an altogether large mistake to make, either. Take a deep breath.”

“But I broke curfew!” Bobbi refused to take a deep breath right now.

“It was an accident. I don’t punish my children for accidents.”

“But…” Bobbi protested weakly. Why wasn’t he angry? Phil and Melinda barely had any rules for her and she’d broken the biggest one. Even worse, she’d broken it by staying late at her boyfriend’s house, which didn’t look good. Maybe they believed that she and Hunter had just been sleeping, or maybe they thought she hadn’t been sleeping, and that was why she hadn’t answered the phone.

“Do you want a punishment?” Phil asked. “Would that make you feel better?”

“I — I don’t know!” Bobbi’s brain still wasn’t functioning at full capacity and this conversation wasn’t helping. “But if you’re going to be angry then I want you to be angry now and not in the morning!” She didn’t want him playing nice because it was the middle of the night and then snatching the rug from under her when she woke up tomorrow.

“I’m not angry.”

“Don’t give me any of that ‘I’m not angry, I’m disappointed’ shit,” Bobbi snapped. Phil being disappointed in her was even worse than him being angry.

“Language,” Phil said mildly. “I’m not disappointed, either. I was concerned about you when you didn’t come home or answer the phone, but it wasn’t difficult to figure out what happened.”

“But —”

“Bobbi,” Phil interrupted. “You’re seventeen. You’re going to make mistakes sometimes. It is okay.”

“You’re really not mad?” Bobbi asked in a small voice.

“Remember when you asked me if I was upset you applied to OSU?”

“You said you weren’t mad then.” Bobbi couldn’t help the accusation from creeping in. Had Phil lied to her?

“And I wasn’t. My point is, I told you how I was feeling, and you believed me. Is there a reason you don’t believe me now?”

Bobbi turned her phone over in her hands. “I don’t know.” I just want you to want me. And people don’t want stupid, irresponsible kids.

“Have you been punished for breaking curfew before, at a different home?” Phil prodded gently.

“No. They mostly didn’t care what I did. Except for Aunt Tess, but that was before I could drive or anything, so…”

“Okay.”

Phil didn’t press the matter any further, and Bobbi watched as the now-familiar streets leading up to the Coulson’s neighborhood whizzed by, the half-melted snow from the latest snowfall sparkling in the dark.

“Phil?” she asked as he pulled up the gate of the neighborhood.

“Yes?”

“Are Mack and Elena still coming over for dinner tomorrow?” Or rather, later today, depending on what time it was. Bobbi was a little afraid to check, just like she was a little afraid dinner would be canceled because of her rules infraction.

“Of course they are.” Phil seemed offended she would even ask the question. “Bobbi, even if we were going to punish you for breaking curfew, taking away a celebration for something you worked hard for is entirely out of the question. One night of broken curfew doesn’t change how well you performed today or how proud we are of you.”

“You’re proud of me?” Bobbi asked before she could help herself.

Phil pulled into the driveway, putting the car into park. “Immensely. I didn’t want to say too much in front of Jemma because it isn’t polite to gloat, but The Academy is incredibly hard to beat. Science and technology is the entire focus of their curriculum.”

“I was kind of surprised they had a gymnasium at all,” Bobbi mumbled, looking at her lap.

Phil chuckled. “Me too, kiddo. But that just makes your win even more impressive. Come on, let’s get inside.”

Bobbi trailed behind Phil, hesitating once they crossed the threshold. “Phil?”

“Hmm?”

“Are you sure there’s nothing I can do to make it up to you?”

“There’s nothing to make up,” he assured her. “If this becomes a pattern we might have a different answer, but just try to remember an alarm next time, okay?”

“I will,” she promised. She wouldn’t disappoint her foster parents again.

She couldn’t disappoint them again. Not if she wanted any hope of being a part of their family forever.

Chapter Text

“You look tired,” Bobbi said when Kara thunked her backpack down on her desk in Home Ec.

“I am very tired,” Kara answered, barely looking at Bobbi before she threw herself into her seat. “My little brother is teething and he was up all night screaming.”

“I didn’t know you had a brother,” Bobbi said. Since their first conversation, she and Kara had kept up a steady stream of polite seatmate conversations, mostly centered around class and other schoolwork, but never touched on their respective home lives. Bobbi had almost mentioned it when Kara had asked about her holiday plans, but it was difficult to casually bring up dreading Thanksgiving because of being in foster care.

“I have two. And a sister,” Kara said around her yawn. “Kai’s the youngest, though.”

“I guess I should count myself lucky that all of my foster siblings are old enough to sleep through the night,” Bobbi said.

Kara blinked. “Foster siblings?”

“Uh.” Bobbi stared back at her. “I kind of thought everyone knew by now I was in foster care?” Bobbi thought it was pretty obvious, given her entrance into the class at a bizarre time of the year and how she and Daisy went home together on the days Bobbi didn’t have Science Olympiad.

“I didn’t,” Kara said. Bobbi thought she probably should’ve been relieved that not everyone knew or cared about her personal life, but now she had to navigate the awkwardness from her incorrect assumption.

“Oh. Well, I am,” she said lamely.

“I was, too,” Kara blurted out. “In middle school. So, um. I was going to say I’m not going to be weird about it, but I think this counts as being weird about it.”

“Um.” Bobbi laughed nervously. “I don’t know how to respond to that.” She wasn’t going to lie and say that Kara randomly divulging sensitive information wasn’t weird, but she also didn’t want to discourage the other girl from talking about her experience, especially since so many people didn’t talk about it. Bobbi included, now that she thought about it. She assumed everyone knew she was in foster care, but she’d never outright told anyone other than Anne.

“Right. Sorry.” Kara slid her backpack into her lap, fishing out her home ec notebook. “I promise at least fifty percent of this is sleep deprivation and I will be able to hold a normal conversation again when I am not running on more caffeine than sleep.”

“You’re fine,” Bobbi said. She was too curious about Kara’s foray into the foster care system to be insulted. Was that where she had met her therapist who had taught her about needle-felting, or had something happened after? Was Kara adopted, or had she been reunified with her biological family?

Their teacher began class, and Bobbi had a harder time than usual focusing on the PowerPoint. So did Kara, if her drooping eyelids were any indication. Bobbi elbowed her before she could fall all the way asleep and Kara gave her a grateful albeit tired smile.

“So,” Kara said when their teacher had finished lecturing and was handing out worksheets, “you’ve been in care since school started?”

“Basically.” The first week or so of September hardly counted.

“Permanency plan?” Kara asked nonchalantly. Bobbi’s eyes nearly bugged out of her skull. Of course Kara would know what a permanency plan was if she had been in the system, but it was so weird not to have to explain the vocabulary to someone. Anne was well-meaning in all of her research, but some of the finer points were confusing and she had to ask Bobbi for clarification. Bobbi was happy to oblige, given Anne was her best friend and all, but sometimes she wished someone beyond Hunter and her foster family understood.

Apparently that someone had been right under her nose the whole time.

“Aging out of the system,” Bobbi answered with a shrug. Their teacher passed them their papers and Bobbi printed her name neatly at the top, glancing over the questions. They had all been answered in the lecture, so the worksheet wouldn’t take too much time.

“My only living relative is my grandmother, and she’s in a nursing home now. She has dementia.” It was the first time Bobbi declared her grandmother’s condition out loud, and she decided it would be the last, too. The diagnosis made her heart hurt, and she was already hurting enough these days.

“They’re not looking for someone to adopt you?” Kara asked.

“Do you know any families who are looking for a seventeen-year-old with more baggage than Cleveland International?” Bobbi asked.

“Fair,” Kara said. “I’m sorry. About your grandmother.”

“It’s better this way,” Bobbi said, though the words sounded hollow even to her own ears.

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t suck,” Kara said with a shrug. “I knew it was better to be away from my mom and dad while they sorted their stuff out, but it still hurt.”

“Were you with your siblings?” Bobbi asked, curious.

“Nope. The foster family who took in my younger brother and sister didn’t want older kids. They didn’t have the space, either, but mostly…”

“Now that sucks.” Bobbi didn’t have siblings aside from the ones she’d just gotten, but she couldn’t imagine being separated from her siblings — especially if they got to stay together. She’d mostly asked because she’d hoped that Kara had at least some comfort when she was traveling through the system.

“Yup. But they were well taken care of, and so was I, so I can’t complain.” Kara looked around to make sure no one was listening before adding under her breath, “My foster dad’s sister is a senator.”

Bobbi’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s cool.” Cool was an understatement, but she didn’t want to start asking any prying questions.

“I’m hoping it means she’ll try and do something about the system on a national level. Standardization would be great.”

Bobbi nodded. Even though she’d never left Ohio, she could agree that the foster system being more standardized would be helpful. Because foster care was a kind of license, the states were allowed to pick whatever qualifications they wanted. Which was their Constitutional right and all, but it was difficult when different states had different qualifications and licenses didn’t necessarily transfer if foster families moved across state lines. Having licenses be more similar would at least give people an idea of what to expect if they moved, and make information easier to find and a hell of a lot less confusing.

“My older brother works in social work,” Bobbi said. “I’ve been meaning to ask him what he would change if he could.” Bobbi’s curiosities when it came to Trip had no end. She wanted to know everything about his life with Robbie, what it was like helping to raise Gabe, how he handled being a social worker after going through the foster care system himself… but talking to him was hard. He was busy, and she was busy, and Bobbi wasn’t sure he wanted to talk to her in the first place. Mack would probably say that fear was silly and he definitely wanted to talk to her, but Bobbi didn’t know.

“I want to major in social work in college,” Kara hummed. “Think your brother would be okay talking with me about it?”

“I could ask,” Bobbi said. More like she’d ask Mack to ask Trip, but whatever. “Couldn’t you talk to your case worker, though?”

“I guess I could,” Kara mused. “Or my foster dad. He wasn’t in social work but I’m sure he knows someone.”

“It’s really cool that you want to do social work,” Bobbi offered quietly. “I don’t think I could, after…” After knowing everything she knew. She couldn’t bear to take a child away from their family, knowing what sort of hell they would go through because of it.

“I’m sure whatever you do will be great, too.” Kara smiled at Bobbi, warm and bright. “It takes all kinds of people to change the world.”

---

“This place is huge,” Hunter said, shuffling closer to Bobbi when the sliding doors to the Babies R Us opened before them.

“Yeah, no kidding.” It had been a shock to find out Babies R Us was still a thing, and an even larger shock that they still had the huge stores Bobbi remembered from her childhood. When she’d been younger Bobbi had wondered how a store for babies could possibly need that much room, but now that she was helping Mack and Elena prepare for their baby, she was beginning to understand. Baby furniture alone could have its own store, and then there were toys and clothes and accessories, all of which needed to be tailored to a baby’s specific age. It was a lot — hence why she had roped Hunter into going with her instead of trying to brave it alone. Theoretically she could have asked one of her foster siblings, but then she wouldn’t have an excuse to spend time with her boyfriend.

“We’re just looking for an elephant stuffed animal and maybe a onesie,” Bobbi reminded Hunter when he grabbed a basket. “Phil and Melinda are already planning to spoil the kid rotten, and I’m pretty sure Elena has more cousins than I can count, so we don’t need to go too wild.” She had seen Mack and Elena’s registry, and knew for a fact most of it was accounted for. Not being able to give much materially was at least part of the reason Bobbi insisted on helping out with the nursery. The other part was getting to spend time with Mack, which was never a bad thing.

“Are you going to tell me why an elephant?” Hunter asked as Bobbi began wandering through the main corridor of the store, looking at the aisle markers for anything to help navigate.

“It’s one of the paint colors we chose for the nursery. I thought I told you that.”

“I’m pretty sure I would have remembered you telling me you were painting the nursery,” Hunter answered. “Christ, Bob. That’s a lot of work.”

“It’s my first nibling,” Bobbi said defensively. “Unless Idaho has a secret we don’t know about.”

“No babies for Idaho,” Hunter confirmed. That would be kind of hard, given his boyfriend didn’t have a uterus, but stranger things had happened. “I’m just surprised is all. You never seemed into home decor before now.”

“Kind of hard to be into home decor when you don’t have a home,” she reminded him. “Whenever we move in together you will be subjected to all my repressed home decoration energy.”

“Good to know,” Hunter laughed. “I bet Mack and Elena are excited to have help.”

“They are. And it’s nice to know the nibling will have a little bit of me even when…” Bobbi trailed off, pretending to study the signs overhead instead of focusing on the uncomfortable twisting in her stomach.

“Even when?”

“Even when I’m gone,” she finished with a sigh. “I don’t like thinking about it.”

“Of course not,” Hunter agreed.

“I mean, it’s stupid, because I know that unless they adopt me I’m going to be gone, and even then, it’s not like I’m going to give up on going to college.”

“Your feelings aren’t stupid,” Hunter said automatically.

“When did you know you wanted Vic and Izzy to adopt you?” Bobbi asked, changing the subject. It surprised her that they’d never discussed the subject before, but now, lost in a Babies R Us, was as good a time as any.

“About as soon as I met them, I reckon,” Hunter answered, swinging the basket at his side. “They were so different from any of my previous foster homes that I hoped they would be mine forever.”

“Did you… did you ask them to adopt you?”

“No?” Hunter sounded confused. “They asked me. That’s kind of how it works, isn’t it?”

“Not according to Fitz and Daisy,” Bobbi scoffed. “Apparently Daisy asked Phil and Melinda to adopt her and they just… did.”

“That’s mental.”

“Right?!” Relief washed through Bobbi. She was beginning to think she was the weird one for not wanting to ask the Coulsons to adopt her, but Hunter was on her side. As he always was, Bobbi thought as she glanced over at him fondly. He was so absolutely unbothered by everything, still the most dependable person in her life. As a bonus, he understood her better than anyone else, too.

“Mack keeps telling me about adoption and how everyone needs to be ready or whatever, but it’s like… I’m never going to be ready for them to adopt me without knowing they want me. And even if I ask them and they say yes, I’ll never know if it’s because they actually want me, or because they don’t want to disappoint me.”

“It sucks because if they’re waiting on you to make the first move, and you’re waiting on them to make the first move, no one’s going to move.”

“Exactly,” Bobbi sighed. “I think this is our aisle.” She turned down the aisle labeled Stuffed Animals, and was immediately overwhelmed by the sheer amount of fluff in front of her face.

“I guess we’re not going to have any trouble finding an elephant.”

“I don’t think we’d have trouble finding a whole zoo,” Bobbi whispered, awed. “Wow.”

She began walking slowly down the aisle, partially to spot any elephants, and partially because she loved seeing the variety of animals on offer. There were the typical teddy bears and bunny rabbits, but every animal she could think of was represented, from unicorns to turtles to cats and dogs.

“Wish I had one of these growing up,” Hunter said, lifting one of the stuffed animals off the shelf. “Looks like it would’ve been fun.”

Bobbi’s heart tugged. She forgot, sometimes, that Hunter had been in the system since he was born. She’d gotten eleven good years with her parents, and the memories to match. He didn’t have that. He started building his new life with Vic and Izzy, long past the age of stuffed animals.

“Do you want one?” she asked.

“Nah. It’s dumb.”

“Your feelings aren’t dumb,” Bobbi said, delighting in getting to show Hunter some of his own relentless compassion. “Come on, pick a stuffie.” He obviously wanted to, or he wouldn’t be so wistful in replacing the stuffed tiger he had picked up on the shelf.

“Bob —”

“If you don’t pick one I’ll do it for you. Do you really want to be stuck with a stuffed sea monkey?” Actually, a stuffed sea monkey would be awesome, but Bobbi had just read the first tag she’d seen without thinking it through.

“No.” Hunter stood in front of the tiger he had just put back, looking longingly. “This bloke’s kind of cute.”

“Is he the one you want?”

Hunter’s gaze lingered on it a moment longer before he nodded.

“Put it in the basket,” Bobbi commanded. She knew she’d made the right choice in pushing Hunter when he cuddled the stuffed tiger to his chest for a moment before putting it into his basket.

“I’ll pay you back,” he promised.

“Hunter. It’s called a gift.”

“Bob,” he whined.

“I am not letting you buy yourself your first stuffie. What sort of girlfriend would that make me?!”

“One who listens to her boyfriend,” Hunter grumbled.

“I have spent the last three years ignoring you at every opportunity. Why would I change now?”

Hunter sighed. “I love you more each and every day, you know that?”

“I know,” Bobbi answered cheekily. She didn’t object when Hunter pulled her into a hug, though, nor when he pressed a firm kiss to her mouth.

“You’re going to make a great mum,” he said, expression soft.

“You’re going to make a great dad,” she answered, leaning in for a gentler kiss. It was kind of impossible to be in a baby store with the person she loved and not think about their future children when she knew that was what they both wanted. Buying Hunter his first stuffie wasn’t anything like what it would be when they bought their child their first one, but of course it would trigger something in him.

“I’m sure our parents just sensed a disturbance in the Force and are waiting for us to add that this will be in the far, far future.”

“Sometimes the future doesn’t feel that far, though,” Bobbi said. She could imagine her and Hunter with a house and a child without it feeling like too much of a reach. “Mack and Elena aren’t that much older than us.”

“It’s really not. Which is kind of terrifying,” Hunter laughed. “Who knows. In five years we might be here for our own baby.”

“Five years is pushing it, mister,” Bobbi said, wrinkling her nose. Sure, the future felt close, but not that close. “We’ll barely be out of college.”

“Not if my genius girlfriend finishes ahead of schedule,” Hunter retorted. “Come on. We’re blocking the aisle.” A woman had appeared at the end of the aisle with a shopping cart in tow, and Bobbi didn’t want to be obnoxious.

They waited for the woman with the cart to pass, since she knew what she wanted and they’d just be in the way.

“Here’s some elephants.”

“That is… an unexpected number of elephants.” There was an elephant in every hue, though most were in the classic pink and blue. Bobbi, naturally, picked up one of the gray ones. She didn’t know the gender of Mack and Elena’s baby, and even if she did she refused to be complicit in the unnecessary gendering of colors.

“If I were a small child, would I want a large elephant, or a small elephant?” Bobbi asked herself.

“Babies can only see ten inches in front of their face when they’re born,” Hunter offered. “So I would go for the smaller elephant.”

“…How did you know that?”

“I read,” Hunter said defensively. “Besides, your niblings are my niblings. Basically.”

“Basically,” Bobbi agreed, warmth spreading through her chest. She could argue all day about how she and Hunter weren’t technically married and didn’t have any plans for it in the near future, but she couldn’t imagine a life without him any more than she could imagine a life without breathing.

Bobbi pointedly ignored that she had a similar level of difficulty imagining her life without the Coulsons in it. She didn’t want or need to think about that right now.

“Okay, so small elephant,” Bobbi said to distract herself. “This one?” She grabbed a toy a little larger than both of her fists.

“That one looks good. I like the smile.”

“I do too,” Bobbi agreed, tracing the curve of the elephant’s smile with her thumbnail before setting it gently into the basket beside Hunter’s tiger. “Okay, mission accomplished. Unless you really want to look at onesies.”

“I get the feeling you really want to look at onesies,” Hunter corrected. He wasn’t wrong. With the number of elephant toys, Bobbi couldn’t imagine she wouldn’t be able to find a onesie with some elephants on it, and she desperately wanted to look for one. “And because I love you, I say we should definitely look at onesies.”

A smile tugged at Bobbi’s lips. “Yeah, let’s do that.”

“Onwards and upwards, my love.” Hunter reached for her hand, and Bobbi took it.

“Onwards and upwards.”

Chapter Text

Bobbi woke up when her bedroom door opened, blinking blearily at the shadow in the door. “Am I late?” She’d double-checked all her alarms after the snafu with falling asleep at Hunter’s, but she could’ve missed the school alarm.

“School’s cancelled,” Melinda whispered. “I was going to shut off your alarm so you could sleep in.”

“M’awake,” Bobbi mumbled, sitting up. “Can make… breakfast?” Maybe she was awake, but her brain was still struggling to form a coherent sentence.

“You don’t have to make breakfast,” Melinda answered, amused. “Go back to bed, sweetheart.”

“Mmkay.” Bobbi left Melinda to fiddle with her alarms, curling back up around Pàng and Birdie.

“Love you,” Melinda murmured, pressing a kiss to Bobbi’s forehead. Bobbi managed a bleary smile, but she was already asleep before she could mumble back I love you too.

---

The next time she opened her eyes, sunlight streamed in through her window and a pleasant warmth wrapped around her. She kicked off her pile of blankets, immediately regretting the decision. She grabbed the quilt Elena had made her for Christmas off the top of the pile of blankets, wrapping it around her like a cloak. Bobbi had no idea how Elena managed to make something so beautiful and so warm, but she loved it no matter how much witchcraft was involved.

She made sure the stuffed animals were on the bed and the door firmly closed before padding downstairs. Bobbi shivered when her feet hit the cool tile of the kitchen — she should’ve put her slippers on.

“Morning,” Phil greeted from the kitchen table, sipping at his orange juice while he flicked through the paper.

“You didn’t have to work today?” Bobbi asked, checking the clock. Phil was normally long-gone by now.

“Roads aren’t clear yet. We got more than they forecasted,” he explained. “I don’t think you’ll be back in school until February.”

“Really?” Bobbi asked dubiously. Their area was used to getting dumped with snow — it happened every year.

“See for yourself.” Bobbi ambled over to the back door, eyes widening when she saw the backyard. Or rather, the foot and a half of snow on top of the backyard. The porch had huge snowdrifts on it, too, even though it was mostly protected by the eaves.

“You’re the only one awake so far,” Melinda said, drying her hands on the dish towel. “Pancakes for breakfast?”

“Sure,” Bobbi agreed. She wasn’t going to say no to a hot breakfast when it was so cold out.

“It’s too bad we can’t go anywhere,” Bobbi said as she settled into the seat beside Phil. “I could get so much painting done in the nursery if I could get to Mack’s.”

Phil glanced up from the paper, smiling. “Has he finished the rocking chair yet?”

“Not yet. He’s still working on getting the rockers even. Something about it being hard to get a smooth curve without a specialized tool or something.” Bobbi adjusted the quilt on her shoulders. “But we’ve got the dresser and shelves together and ready to be painted. Mack said the crib should be delivered any day now.”

“He’s lucky to have you to help,” Melinda said as she began making the pancake better.

“I’m sure Daisy and Kora would’ve helped if I wasn’t around,” Bobbi shrugged. “It’s just easier since I can drive myself.”

“Maybe you can take them with you next time,” Phil suggested.

Bobbi nodded noncommittally. Selfishly, she didn’t want to share Mack. Daisy and Kora had both gotten so much time with him, and she only got a few months. Wanting those few months for herself wasn’t that bad, was it? She wouldn’t tell either of her foster sisters no if they asked to go with her to Mack’s house, but she wasn’t going to volunteer that solution herself.

“I would’ve thought you’d want Hunter to come over,” Melinda said.

Bobbi lifted a shoulder. “I guess I’m kind of used to only seeing him on the weekends now.” Now that Melinda had mentioned it, though, guilt crept in that she had thought of her older brother before her boyfriend.

“It’s good practice for when you’re in college,” Melinda said. “Does he know where he wants to go?”

“He applied to OSU, ONU, OU, KSU, Miami, and I think one or two others?” Bobbi said. Hunter was planning on staying in state to reduce the cost of tuition and to be close to his family, but there were still plenty of colleges in Ohio to choose from. “He’s still not sure what his top choice is. If I get into OSU he said he’ll consider going there a little more seriously, but I don’t want him to only go to OSU for me, so…”

“That’s responsible of you.” Melinda had moved on to making the pancakes on the stove, but she still glanced over her shoulder when she talked to Bobbi. “But I’m sure long distance will be hard if that’s what ends up happening.”

Bobbi nodded, chewing on her lip. “I’m trying not to worry about it until I know where we’re both going. If we’re both going.” Applying to college had felt weird enough — Bobbi was still trying to wrap her head around the possibility that she might’ve actually gotten in. Only applying to one school probably lowered her chances, but sometimes she allowed herself to hope that maybe she had done enough.

“If I don’t get in to OSU I’ll probably move wherever Hunter goes to school.” Bobbi studied Phil and Melinda to gauge their reactions to her proclamation, but neither had any noticeable response to her words.

“You’d want to move away?” Phil asked, smoothing down the newspaper on the table.

She shrugged. “Depends how far away Hunter goes, I guess. If he goes to school nearby I could stay with Izzy and Vic and save on rent.”

“Or you could stay with us,” Phil added serenely.

“Won’t you want the room back?” Bobbi didn’t know the Coulsons’ plans for fostering more kids after she was gone, but she did know right now they didn’t have any free bedrooms. They couldn’t take in another child until she left.

“Your room is yours as long as you want it,” Phil said. “We mean it when we say you’re welcome to be a part of our family as long as you’d like to be.”

Bobbi shifted in her seat, adjusting her quilt again to give herself something to fidget with. “Yeah.”

The hiss of the whipped cream can interrupted anything else she was going to say — maybe a lame excuse about not wanting Vic and Izzy to have an empty nest? — and a moment later Melinda set a pancake in front of Bobbi.

“It’s a snowman,” she said, not sure why she was so surprised by it.

“It is,” Melinda agreed with a smile. “To celebrate your snow day.”

The pancake had three chocolate-chip buttons as well as chocolate chips in the shape of a crude smiley face on the smallest of the three circles. The whipped cream Melinda had sprayed sat at the bottom of the plate in neat piles — the “snow” the snowman rested on.

“I think my mom used to make pancakes like this,” Bobbi said, studying the plate. She had more than a few distinct memories of her childhood and a further few that were hazy and indistinct, but this one was… different. The smell of vanilla, a warm kitchen, sitting on her father’s lap as he hummed Let it Snow… It didn’t coalesce into an entire image, and Bobbi couldn’t even remember the snowman pancake itself, but she knew. She knew.

“Do you want something else?” Melinda asked quietly.

“No, this is fine,” Bobbi said, clearing her throat. “I just — I didn’t remember that.”

“Memory’s funny like that,” Phil said sympathetically. “Whenever I remember something about my dad I write it down, so I don’t forget.”

“I don’t have anything to write with,” Bobbi said lamely. She’d left her phone up in her room — no phones at the table — and that was mostly what she used for jotting notes to herself.

“I’ll get something,” Melinda said, heading for the office.

“How old were you when your dad died, Phil?” Bobbi knew neither of Phil’s parents were alive anymore, but she hadn’t prodded more than that. She also hadn’t asked about Melinda’s parents. As far as Bobbi knew they were both alive, but it seemed like Melinda was estranged from them, or at least not as close as she wanted to be.

“Nine,” he answered. “It was expected. He had lung cancer.”

Bobbi pressed her lips together. “I’m sorry.” Nine wasn’t that much different from eleven, when her parents had died.

“I’m okay now,” Phil said, offering Bobbi a small smile. “But thank you.”

“Here you go.” Melinda set a pen and a steno pad next to Bobbi’s untouched plate. “Do you want hot chocolate?”

“I can make it myself,” Bobbi protested. She was seventeen and more than capable of heating up her own milk and adding the hot chocolate powder to it.

“No, no, you eat.”

Bobbi glanced at Phil, who gave her a look that clearly said let her dote.

“Hot chocolate would be great,” Bobbi said, picking up the pen and scribbling down the few snatches of the memory she had. When she was finished she picked up her fork, determined not to let the memory of her parents haunt her for too long.

Bobbi was already done with her pancake and nursing her cup of hot chocolate when someone else finally stirred. Fitz stumbled into the kitchen, half-asleep and with his curly hair mussed beyond belief.

“Snow day?” he asked sleepily.

“Snow day,” Phil confirmed with a chuckle. “You going back to bed?”

“Gotta call Jemma,” Fitz mumbled. “We were supposed to work on our project after school today.”

“I thought you and Jemma didn’t have any classes together this semester?” Melinda asked, already moving to prepare Fitz a pancake.

“S’an extra credit project.” Fitz plopped into the seat across from Bobbi. “Not for class.”

“Sure,” Melinda said. Fitz probably wasn’t awake enough to recognize her smirk, but Bobbi certainly was.

“I should probably check with Anne to see what we’re doing for Science Olympiad,” Bobbi said to change the subject. “Can I use my phone at the table? Please?”

Phil and Melinda exchanged a look before Phil nodded. “Just because it’s a snow day, though.”

“Uh huh!” Bobbi skipped up the stairs to grab her phone, already typing her message to Anne by the time she got back to the kitchen table. Daisy had just appeared from the basement, looking just as dead to the world as Fitz was.

“Bobbi’s seat,” Fitz said when she tried to sit in the chair with Bobbi’s quilt draped on the back of it.

Daisy scowled at him but moved over.

“You cold?” Bobbi asked, already moving to drape her quilt around Daisy’s shoulders.

“Sleepy,” she mumbled back.

“Why do our children get out of bed if they’re still asleep?” Phil asked Melinda, amused.

“Food,” Daisy and Fitz answered in unison.

“’Sides,” Daisy said through a yawn. “Bobbi’s awake. S’why she’s the favorite child.”

“We don’t have favorite children,” Melinda said, setting Fitz’s pancake in front of him.

“But if you did, it would be Bobbi.”

“Daisy,” Melinda said warningly.

“Fine, you love all your children equally,” Daisy grumbled. When Melinda returned to the stove she added under her breath, “You just love Bobbi the most equally.”

Bobbi distracted herself from her rampant blush by looking down at the text Hunter had just sent her.

[Hunter]: It’s Maddy’s first snow day :)

Attached was a picture of Hunter’s stuffed tiger sitting on top of a mound of snow.

[Bobbi]: I am in love!!!

[Hunter]: Oi, no leaving me for the stuffed animal!

[Bobbi]: In love with *you*, idiot.

[Hunter]: Oh. Carry on then :)

[Bobbi]: Make sure Maddy doesn’t get too cold

[Bobbi]: Don’t want my favorite kitty to freeze

[Hunter]: Don’t worry, she has a Hunter to keep her warm :)

[Bobbi]: Have I mentioned that I love you?

[Hunter]: Maybe once or twice

[Hunter]: I love you too. Happy snow day <3

[Bobbi]: Happy snow day <3

“How’s Hunter?” Daisy asked with a poor attempt at nonchalance.

“He’s fine,” Bobbi said, cheeks burning. “Enjoying the snow.” Somehow she didn’t think Hunter would appreciate her talking about his stuffed animal with the majority of her foster family.

“I love your Hunter smile,” Daisy said, accepting a plate of pancakes from her mother.

“My what?”

“Your Hunter smile,” Daisy repeated. “It’s cute.”

“Daisy thinks it’s romantic that Hunter makes you smile big,” Fitz scoffed. “Romance. Bleh.”

“Can you stop being a boy?” Daisy asked, kicking Fitz under the table. “We like it when Bobbi is happy, remember?”

“I think I should remind you Valentine’s Day is coming up,” Melinda said, ruffling Fitz’s hair as she set his hot chocolate in front of him. “There will be plenty of romance in the air then.”

Fitz gagged.

“Hey,” Melinda admonished. “Don’t be rude.”

“Fitz is just jealous because he doesn’t have a Hunter.”

“I don’t think Fitz wants to date Hunter,” Bobbi said, hiding a smile.

“No way would I ever date someone who supports Liverpool,” Fitz agreed.

“What team does Jemma go for?” Daisy asked innocently.

“None of your business,” Fitz mumbled, stabbing at his pancake.

“Is it a violation of the bro code to date your sister’s ex?” Daisy pondered.

“Uh, yes?” Bobbi couldn’t imagine how that wouldn’t violate the bro code. “Why, do you have a crush on Hunter?”

“He’s too scruffy for me,” Daisy hummed. “Maybe if he shaved.”

“Very funny,” Bobbi huffed. Even if she hadn’t been the biggest fan of the stubble at first, it had grown on her. Now it was as familiar as Hunter’s bare face once had been, and she was… attached.

“I don’t think I’m his type anyways,” Daisy said. “He prefers tall, blonde, and Bobbi.”

Bobbi couldn’t argue with that one.

“Snow day! Snow day! Snow day!”

“Someone woke up on the right side of the bed,” Phil laughed as Kora waddled into the kitchen, already dressed head to toe in her snow gear, including her snow pants and puffy jacket.

“Ah ah,” Melinda said, asserting herself between Kora and the door. “No snow until you’ve had breakfast.”

“But Mom!”

“You need a full stomach to have any sort of fun,” Melinda said. “And everyone else needs to get ready to go out in the snow.”

“Everyone?” Bobbi echoed. “Are you and Phil coming outside too?”

“We wouldn’t miss the chance to have a Coulson family snowball fight where the teams are actually even,” Phil answered, eyes twinkling. “Normally Mel or I have to sit out to make it fair.”

“I call having Bobbi on my team!” Daisy said.

“No fair! I want Bobbi!”

“The three of you can all be on a team together,” Melinda suggested, adept as always at keeping the peace.

Fitz groaned. “How come I get stuck with the old people?”

“Watch it, mister, or we’ll make you the sacrifice to the snowball gods,” Phil said.

Fitz gulped.

---

“Told you we would win,” Daisy panted as they crowded back inside, stripping off layers and layers of snow gear. Even though it was well below freezing Bobbi was glad to get her coat off — running around having a snowball fight worked up a sweat, especially beneath a thermal shirt.

“I don’t think anyone really wins in a snowball fight.” Bobbi tugged off her hat, shaking the snow out of her hair. She was supposedly on the winning team but she wouldn’t be surprised if she had a few bruises from some of Fitz’s particularly hard throws, not to mention all the times she’d fallen while trying to dodge snowballs or lob some of her own.

“The more optimistic way of looking at it is that everyone wins,” Phil said brightly, clomping past so he could grab another doormat to put their wet boots on.

“You’re just saying that because you got to sacrifice Fitz,” Bobbi laughed.

“I warned him and he did not heed my warning.”

“Yeah, yeah, I won’t call you old again,” Fitz grumbled. “I forgot how fast you and Mum can run.”

“Because we’re not old,” Melinda said, swatting playfully at Fitz.

“You’re having a grandkid. You’re old.”

“I don’t think you’re old, Melinda,” Bobbi said.

“Bobbi,” Daisy sighed, exasperated. “You’re already the favorite child. You don’t need to flatter them.”

“No, no, I think Bobbi should keep talking,” Phil said. “Come on, Bobbi. Tell us how great we are.”

The heckling and chatter continued until they were all down to their base layers and had moved into the living room. Bobbi wished the Coulsons had a fireplace like the Hartleys — though snuggling on the couch was a pretty good substitute.

“We kicked ass,” Bobbi said as Daisy cuddled up to her on one side and Kora on the other.

“Language.”

“C’mon, Dad!” Daisy whined. “We totally kicked ass!”

Phil stopped holding back his smile. “You totally did.”

“Anyone up for a round two after lunch?” Melinda asked.

A collective groan went up. Bobbi wasn’t going back outside until she could feel her toes again.

“Thought not,” she laughed.

“I think we should all just stay here until lunchtime,” Daisy yawned, burying her head in Bobbi’s shoulder.

“It is lunchtime,” Bobbi pointed out. They’d spent hours outside building their makeshift forts and throwing snowballs at each other. It was like their Christmas Day, but even better somehow.

“Skip lunch, then,” Daisy said through another wide yawn. Kora made a sleepy noise of agreement, propping herself up on Bobbi’s other shoulder.

“I’ll go heat up some soup,” Melinda said.

“Do you need any help?” Bobbi wouldn’t mind being in the warmth of the kitchen to help her temperature reach equilibrium. Plus, she loved soup. Especially Hunter’s soup, though she didn’t have any delusions that Melinda would have access to the Hartley family recipe.

“I don’t think you could help if you wanted to.” Melinda gestured to Daisy and Kora clinging to Bobbi. “Fitz can help as his punishment for losing.”

“Didn’t I already lose enough?” Fitz groused, but he stood to help Melinda anyways.

With the prospect of warm soup in the future and her sisters falling asleep on her shoulders, Bobbi felt peace settling over her like Elena’s quilt — thick and comforting and homey. Phil smiled at her from his position in the armchair, and Bobbi smiled back, somehow certain he knew exactly what she was thinking: there was no place she would rather be.

Chapter Text

“I need help,” Ollie announced when they thumped their tray down on the lunch table the first day back from the snow break.

“Don’t we all,” Cecelia sighed.

“Yes,” Ollie answered without missing a beat. “But I need the kind of help you don’t receive from a therapist.”

“And what would that be?” Anne asked before they could get off on a tangent about therapy and what and could and couldn’t help.

“The QSG is running a Valentine’s event this year but the school doesn’t want us to post fliers and quote, promote controversy,” Ollie sighed. Bobbi narrowed her eyes. Ollie was president of the Queer Student Group, and while Bobbi had never been to a meeting herself because it conflicted with Science Olympiad, she still found herself rather protective of the group and all of the students in it, Ollie included. “Promoting controversy” sounded a lot like the school didn’t want to deal with the ranting of homophobic parents who were upset that Valentine’s Day was being overtaken by the gays or something equally ridiculous.

“And we are helping how?” Anne asked, fishing a notebook and pen out of her backpack. She uncapped her pen, poised to begin note-taking.

“I need everyone to spread the word as much as they can. We’re selling bars of chocolate for three bucks and roses for five, personalized and sent to anyone in the school you want. The money is going to be split fifty-fifty between the QSG’s fund and a non-profit helping shelter trans youth who have been kicked out of their homes,” Ollie rattled off. “We have all the volunteers we need to staff the tables and run deliveries, but that doesn’t mean anything if no one knows what we’re selling.”

“When will the sales be available?” Anne asked, already scribbling down notes.

“Entire week before Valentine’s Day,” Ollie answered. “You can buy everything for thirty minutes before the first bell in the main office, or during lunch hour in the atrium.”

“Excellent.” Anne finished jotting her notes down and flipped the page. “Alright, who can tell whom?”

“I can text the Science Olympiad group chat,” Bobbi offered. It wasn’t much, since Anne was also in the group chat and could just as easily tell everyone herself. “And I can see if my sister can tell her friends, too.” Daisy had a lot of friends in her grade and would be delighted to support the cause. She’d asked Bobbi about going to a QSG meeting together sometime — maybe this was the sign they needed to make that happen.

“I can get the basketball team,” Tomas offered, “and tell them to tell all their spring sports teams too.”

“We can get the cheer team,” Alicia added, gesturing to herself and her twin.

“I’ll get the National Honors Society. And I’m sure we can all ask our teachers to make some announcements in class, too,” Anne said while she listed what groups everyone had volunteered to tell.

“Thanks guys.” Ollie let out a gusty sigh. “I don’t know why the school approved the fundraiser in the first place if they weren’t going to let us advertise it.”

“Probably because you could sue them,” Bobbi said, ever the pessimist. Or realist, as she preferred. “Discrimination lawsuits don’t look good for anyone, least of all a school.”

“I’m not sure you could sue for that,” Anne hummed, flipping to another page. “Hey!” she said, bumping Bobbi when she tried to look over her friend’s shoulder. “This is my list of people to get Valentine’s for. Top secret.”

“Top secret?” Bobbi repeated incredulously. “This is high school, not some government agency!”

“This is high school, which is how I know that my Valentine’s selections will be gossiped about mercilessly,” Anne corrected. “Ollie, who are you getting Valentine’s for?”

“I have a list of all the QSG members, so I’m getting candy for all of them,” Ollie said, ducking their head shyly. “After all of this I think they deserve it.”

“That’s so sweet,” Alicia gushed. Bobbi agreed, though she wasn’t all that surprised. Ollie was six feet of squish and warmth, and they looked after the members of the QSG with parental fondness, especially the freshmen. Bobbi imagined that Valentine’s Day could be a touchy time of year for some of the members of the QSG, like the ones who were aromantic or the ones who weren’t out of the closet and weren’t able to express their love for the person of their choosing. Hopefully candy bars would make the day a little better.

“I should make my list, too,” Bobbi mused. Phil and Melinda had helped her set up a bank account while they were snowed in, and Phil had taken some of her allowance money to the bank for her. Bobbi didn’t think her Valentine’s list would make her have to withdraw any of her money, since she’d kept some on hand for dates with Hunter and other frivolities, but it would be better to know that sooner rather than later.

“We can all make lists,” Cecelia suggested. “That way we know no one else is peeking.”

Tomas rolled his eyes but got out a piece of looseleaf when everyone else did. They spent the rest of lunch in relative silence as they each thought of the people they loved most in the world, and how they were going to show that love in just a few short weeks.

---

“Do you want to do anything for Valentine’s Day?” Bobbi murmured as she rested her head on Hunter’s shoulder. Neither of them had homework that night so they got to spend a rare weeknight together, cuddled on the Coulsons’ couch. Phil and Melinda were in the kitchen, voices a soft background hum now that the movie she and Hunter were watching had finished.

“I thought you didn’t believe in Valentine’s Day?” Hunter asked, twirling a strand of her hair around his finger.

“I don’t believe in only showing someone you love them because it’s Valentine’s Day,” Bobbi corrected. “And I disagree with Valentine’s Day being sold as this big, romantic holiday when it should be about everyone you love.”

“Huh.” Hunter paused. “So am I in trouble for all the Valentine’s Days I skipped?”

“No,” Bobbi laughed, lifting her head off his shoulder so she could peck his cheek. “I don’t think I would’ve enjoyed it very much any other year.”

Hunter nodded. Bobbi didn’t feel the need to explain that this year was different because she had so many more people to love; he understood what she meant.

“Do you want to go someplace?” Hunter asked. “I don’t reckon we could get a reservation anyplace fancy but we could go to… I dunno, the pub?”

“Or just do something for the two of us,” Bobbi said. “I don’t really care, as long as we’re together.” She knew Phil and Melinda had a fancy dinner planned, but Mack and Elena weren’t planning anything special — just a visit to some art gallery Elena wanted to see later in the month. Bobbi very much supported the notion that Valentine’s Day didn’t need to be a huge fancy thing, either. She’d be happy with the pub, if Hunter was there.

“You are a remarkably easy girlfriend,” Hunter laughed, nuzzling Bobbi’s hair. “I appreciate that about you.”

“You only find me easy because you love me,” Bobbi said. “Otherwise you’d be annoyed.” Even if she didn’t care about things like Valentine’s Day, Bobbi was well aware of the other eccentricities she had that would make her less-than-ideal as a low maintenance girlfriend. Hunter had had to come to the Coulsons’ instead of staying at home because she was afraid of driving in the dark still; he constantly had to reassure her he wasn’t going to leave her; he had to read between the lines more often than she would say things out loud. Bobbi could only imagine that was exhausting sometimes.

Hunter’s brow furrowed, his lip sticking out almost comically as he looked down at her. “’Course I love you. That doesn’t mean you’re not easy.”

“I just meant…” Bobbi sighed. “Did you ever worry you were unlovable?”

“All the time, before I met you,” Hunter answered. “But now I know I’m not. And I know you’re not either.” Hunter checked over his shoulder, then lowered his voice. “Bob, if they don’t want to adopt you, that doesn’t mean anything about you.”

Hunter’s ability to read her mind really was annoying sometimes.

“Doesn’t it?” she whispered. She’d been pondering different reasons the Coulsons might not want to adopt her for a long time now. Mack’s warnings about everyone needing to be ready didn’t feel like they fit. She was ready if they were — it just seemed like they weren’t. Which meant there was something about her giving them pause. Bobbi wanted to believe it was just her age that was standing in the way, which she couldn’t do anything about, but a quiet voice in her head whispered that the Coulsons didn’t want anything to do with her because she was just too much. She had too much baggage and too many feelings and too few words with which to express it all.

“No,” Hunter insisted. “If they don’t want to adopt you, that doesn’t mean that you’re too hard for them to love.”

“But…” Bobbi began, protest dying in her throat.

“Sometimes people just need time,” Hunter said, voice firm yet sympathetic. “You’re different from anyone I’ve ever met, Bob. I love that about you. But it also means that it took me a while to figure you out. Maybe they’re still trying to figure you out too.”

“I don’t have time, Hunter.” Bobbi was surprised to hear how upset she sounded. “Besides, it’s been five months. If it was a matter of time —”

“Don’t think about it like that,” Hunter cut her off before she could rationalize it further. “Think about how much they’ve learned about you. How much you’ve let them learn.”

“You think it’s my fault?”

“I didn’t say that,” Hunter said patiently. “I’m saying that things have happened in your life that make it difficult for you to open up. But you’re doing great with your siblings, and I think your parents are hoping eventually you’ll be able to open up to them too.”

“I just don’t know how,” Bobbi said. She loved her foster parents more than she really expected to, but having difficult conversations with them was… well, difficult. It was easier with her siblings because she didn’t have to hide the parts of herself they wouldn’t like. Siblings were allowed to bicker and find each other annoying. Her parents couldn’t.

“You’ve already started to, Bob. You let them comfort you after visiting your nana, right?”

Bobbi nodded.

“Just keep doing stuff like that.” Hunter made it sound so simple. It couldn’t be that simple, could it?

“And eventually…?”

“And eventually they’ll realize that you are one of the most amazing people on this whole stupid planet,” Hunter finished. He put two fingers under Bobbi’s chin, tipping her face up so he could place a soft kiss on her lips. “And if they don’t, then that’s their loss.”

“But I don’t want to lose them,” Bobbi whispered.

“I know you don’t. But you can’t keep worrying yourself about something that you can’t change, or it’ll destroy you.” Hunter kissed her again, somehow even more tender than the last. “I prefer you undestroyed.”

“I do too,” Bobbi said. She gave Hunter one last kiss before sinking into his side. “Sometimes I wish we could skip to June. Then I wouldn’t have to worry about any of this.”

“My mums always tell me you can’t just skip the hard parts of life,” Hunter sighed. “Besides, aren’t the sad parts supposed to make the happy parts happier?”

Bobbi shrugged. “I haven’t gotten to any of the happy parts yet.” She had happy moments, but it felt like every breakthrough was accompanied by heartbreak.

“Oh, love.” Hunter squeezed her tighter against him. “I am going to give you more happiness than you know what to do with once you’re all mine.”

Bobbi’s heart fluttered in her chest. She reminded herself again that skipping to the happy ending wasn’t possible. She would get to live her life with Hunter, but she had to get through the rest of high school first. Maybe college too, depending on where they both ended up.

“This is why I don’t care about Valentine’s Day,” Bobbi murmured. She couldn’t imagine feeling any more loved than she was right now, safe in the arms of the one person she knew would never leave.

“Bobbi?” She lifted her head up from Hunter’s chest to find Melinda standing in the doorway. “It’s getting late.”

“I should probably head home,” Hunter said, taking the obvious hint. “Think more about Valentine’s Day, yeah?”

“Of course.” Bobbi stood when Hunter did, walking him to the door. She hovered nearby as he put on his jacket, gloves, and hat, smiling when he accidentally tugged the hat too hard and it slipped over his eyes.

“You’re ridiculous,” Bobbi said, reaching to fix the hat for him.

“It’s why you love me.”

“Hunter?”

“Hmm?”

“I want to marry you.”

Hunter froze. “Are you trying to get me to propose to you on Valentine’s Day? Because I don’t think anyone would be very happy with us if we did that.”

“No,” Bobbi laughed, smoothing her hands down his cheeks. “I was just thinking about it, since I was thinking about how much I love you.”

“Lucky for you I have every intention of asking you to marry me. When we’re not, you know, seventeen and living with our parents.”

“Eighteen and living with our parents?” Bobbi teased.

“Maybe nineteen. Just to be safe.”

Bobbi laughed again, stepping into Hunter’s space and pressing her forehead against his. “Just don’t make me wait too long.”

“I won’t.” Hunter wound his arms around her. “You’ve waited long enough for a happy ending. I’m not going to prolong it.”

“Love you.”

“Love you too.” He pecked her lips before withdrawing. “I should probably go before Melinda kicks me out for real.”

“Drive safe.”

“Always do, love.”

Bobbi waited at the door until Hunter’s headlights were pinpricks in this distance, sighing as she turned back into the house. Maybe she had gotten used to not seeing Hunter as often as she used to, but that didn’t make it any less difficult when they had to leave each other.

She stopped in the kitchen to get a glass of water before bed. Melinda had returned to her seat at the table with Phil, and they both looked up when she walked in.

“You know I would never actually kick Hunter out,” Melinda said mildly when Bobbi went to grab a glass.

Bobbi’s cheeks heated. “You heard that?”

“Sound carries when the rest of the house is quiet,” Phil said calmly.

“What else did you hear?” she sighed.

“Something about you getting married?” Melinda half-said, half-asked.

Bobbi sighed. “Fine then, let’s hear it.”

“Hear what?” Bobbi wasn’t sure if Phil was playing dumb or genuinely didn’t know what she meant, but she glared at him nonetheless.

“Your lecture about how I shouldn’t get married to Hunter.”

“What makes you think we have a lecture prepared?” Melinda asked in a way that reminded Bobbi uncomfortably of Dr. Garner’s probing questions during her therapy sessions.

“I know you don’t like him,” Bobbi began, only to be cut off by Phil’s incredulous scoff.

“We like Hunter,” he insisted.

“Melinda doesn’t!”

“He’s right, Bobbi. I like Hunter just fine.”

“Then why’d you tell him to leave!? Curfew’s not for another thirty minutes!” Beyond that, Melinda’s first words about Bobbi’s boyfriend still rang in her ears: you think you can trust him.

Think you can trust him.

Think.

Maybe it was stupid to still be holding onto that. Probably it was stupid to still be holding onto that. But while Phil and Melinda tolerated Hunter’s presence, they never invited it. Bobbi always had to ask if Hunter could come places and do things with her, and when he was there her foster parents didn’t seem to enjoy interacting with him, only doing so when it was absolutely unavoidable.

“It’s still late on a school night, and Hunter had to drive home,” Melinda said. “Where is this coming from, Bobbi? I don’t think asking your boyfriend to go home early once is enough to make you believe we hate him.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bobbi said, setting the cup she had been going to use on the counter. “I’m going to my room.”

“Bobbi,” Phil said, cutting off her route of escape by standing from his chair. “We just want to know what you’re thinking.”

“And I told you it doesn’t matter,” Bobbi said hotly. “Nothing I say ever changes anything anyways.”

“Bobbi.” Phil reached for her but Bobbi flinched away. Her foster father held both of his hands up, palms out in silent surrender. “You can go to your room, but please give us an idea of where we went wrong with this.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Bobbi repeated for the third time. “You’re never going to love Hunter because you’re never going to love me!”

She brushed past Phil, stomping up the stairs and into her room. If Kora hadn’t already been asleep she would’ve slammed the door, but Bobbi had just enough control to close it gently before jamming the lock into place.

Phil and Melinda had said they’d loved her before, but it couldn’t be true. If they loved her, they would’ve asked to adopt her by now. If they loved her, they would’ve come upstairs to ask her what was wrong.

They didn’t, though, so Bobbi fell asleep upset that she had allowed herself to hope at all.

Chapter Text

Bobbi woke up the day before Valentine’s Day feeling like absolute shit.

Phil would encourage her to find a different word to use for her feelings, but Bobbi hadn’t spoken to her foster father since storming out of the kitchen several days before. Also, Bobbi didn’t know if there was another word to use. She felt like someone had put her brain through a blender and poured it back into her skull, then used the blender’s blades to stab her in her back and stomach about a hundred times. When Bobbi sat up to turn her alarm off, the room spun dangerously, bile rising in her throat.

There was no way she could go to school feeling like this — but Bobbi had to go downstairs and convince Melinda before she could fall back into bed.

She’d thought she was too warm because of her pile of blankets, but even after she crawled out of her cocoon the heat remained. Bobbi managed to get downstairs half-walking, half-crawling. If she moved too sharply the pain in her stomach got worse, and she didn’t want to encourage it.

“Melinda?” Bobbi called into the kitchen. Normally her foster mother was there helping facilitate breakfast, but she was nowhere to be found.

Bobbi sank into one of the kitchen chairs, cradling her head in her hands in the vain hope it would help relieve some of the pain throbbing at her temples.

Daisy emerged from her basement room, but Bobbi couldn’t summon the energy to lift her head to acknowledge her foster sister.

“Mom?!” Daisy called, anxiety edging her voice. “Bobbi needs you!”

“M’fine,” Bobbi tried to protest, but the words came out with a wheeze and a wince.

Quiet footsteps entered the kitchen, and Bobbi managed to pull herself back to a relatively-upright sitting position so she could look her foster mother in the eye. “I don’t feel good.”

It was the first words she had said to her foster mother since the argument, and even through the haze of the fever Bobbi could see Melinda’s careful guardedness drop when she knelt in front of Bobbi. Melinda pressed the back of her hand to Bobbi’s forehead and Bobbi shuddered at the sudden cold. If she had doubted her fever before, there was no doubt left now. Melinda’s hand felt like ice, even though it obviously wasn’t.

“What’s the matter, baby?” Melinda asked.

“My stomach hurts,” Bobbi said, a sudden rush of tears overcoming her.

“Shh, shh, you’re okay.” Melinda brushed away Bobbi’s tears gently, her cool hands a balm on Bobbi’s hot skin. “Do you feel like you’re going to throw up?”

Bobbi shook her head. “Just hurts.”

“I’ll get you some Tylenol and some toast,” Melinda said, tucking Bobbi’s hair behind her ears. “You get back to bed, okay? Daisy can take the bus this morning.”

Bobbi hadn’t expected a fight over going to school, especially since she was obviously ill, but it still shocked her how quickly Melinda had switched to being maternal. She was still puzzling it over, albeit with an addled brain, when Melinda came upstairs with her plate of toast and Tylenol, as well as a plastic bucket.

“I know you said you don’t feel like vomiting, but just in case you do,” Melinda said as she sat it on the floor. Bobbi accepted the toast, but only managed two bites before setting it back down.

“Do you want juice?” Melinda handed Bobbi the pills gently.

“Water?” Bobbi suggested.

“I’ll be right back,” Melinda promised.

Time moved differently when you had a fever, Bobbi decided. It felt like she only blinked and Melinda was there again, pressing the cool glass of water into her hands. Bobbi took a few sips before taking the pills. Her stomach churned but settled quickly. Bobbi only hoped that the brief bout of nausea wouldn’t return and that the pills would do some good in helping her fever, her pain, or both.

“I’m going to take the day off from work,” Melinda said, sitting gingerly at the end of Bobbi’s bed. “So feel free to call if you need anything.”

You won’t answer if I call you, Bobbi thought bitterly. Just like when the car broke down. Out loud, she said, “You don’t have to do that. I’ll be fine.” Her plans included sleeping, sleeping, and sleeping, which didn’t require adult supervision.

“I want to stay home,” Melinda said more firmly, putting a hand on Bobbi’s foot. “I need to know you’re okay.”

“Fine.” Bobbi didn’t have the energy to argue with Melinda. She didn’t have the energy to do much other than pull her thinnest blanket up to her chest and curl up on her side. Bobbi groped around the bed until she found Birdie and Pàng. Stubbornly, she waited until Melinda had left the room to bring the stuffed panda close to her chest. Bobbi hated that something Melinda gave her meant so much to her. She hated that Melinda meant so much to her, and Phil too.

In hindsight, she had picked a fight over nothing. Melinda asking Hunter to leave a bit before curfew made sense. Melinda and Phil hating Hunter didn’t make sense. Even if they didn’t have the sort of relationship with Hunter as she did with Vic and Izzy, they never objected to his presence or made him feel unwelcome. They didn’t have to love Hunter, only tolerate him.

Just like they didn’t have to love her for them to be her caregivers.

Bobbi had figured it out, eventually: the subconscious part of her that had picked the fight had wanted it to end with Phil and Melinda reassuring her that they loved her. If your daughter screamed at you that you hated her, the natural response was to tell her you didn’t hate her.

Apparently, if your ward screamed at you that you hated her, the natural response was not to talk to her until she got sick.

A part of her thought she should’ve been glad for the confirmation that the Coulsons really didn’t see her as theirs. She had allowed herself to hope too much, between Christmas and the snow day and all the assurance they made about her not having to leave once she turned eighteen. And then she’d talked with Mack about adoption like her life was going to end up a fairytale.

Bobbi sniffled, holding Pàng closer to her chest. The last thing she wanted to do when she was already miserable was make herself more miserable by crying. She would be fine. She just had to remind herself of the thing she’d always known: she wasn’t wanted here.

---

She couldn’t guess how long it had been since she’d fallen asleep, but that was the least of Bobbi’s concerns.

She couldn’t move.

Or rather, she could move, but every time she did the pain in her abdomen became so intense that black ate away at the corners of her vision.

She had thought when she’d woken up that she had some sort of virus — maybe a stomach flu or the flu-flu — but as Bobbi struggled to sitting, she couldn’t believe that anymore. No virus had ever put her in so much pain before.

Bobbi only barely managed to reach her phone, crunching back into a ball as soon as she had it in her hands. Curling up made it feel better, but not by much. Bobbi turned on her phone, wincing at the bright light. It was just after one in the morning, meaning she had slept for almost sixteen hours, and she still didn’t feel any better. Another strike against virus.

Her hands shook as she unlocked her phone, and Bobbi did what she promised herself she wouldn’t do: she called Melinda.

The phone rang.

And rang.

And rang.

Bobbi hung up on the last ring before voicemail, already angry at herself for believing Melinda would pick up when she called.

“Bobbi?”

Her heart twisted. There was Melinda in the doorway. Had she…?

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

“It really hurts,” Bobbi whimpered. “I’m scared.”

“Can you stand?”

Bobbi nodded, slowly unfurling herself and biting the inside of her cheek to keep from groaning in pain when she stood shakily.

“Come here,” Melinda beckoned.

Bobbi wobbled over to her foster mother like a newborn foal, all but collapsing into Melinda’s arms as the pain of it became too much to bear.

“Bobbi,” Melinda said, brushing her hair back from her face. “I think we need to take you to the hospital.”

“No!” Panic rose in Bobbi’s chest, made even sharper by the pain. “No, Melinda, please —” Doctors, Bobbi could handle. She didn’t like them, but she could handle them. Hospitals, on the other hand, brought nothing but pain. All of her memories of being in a hospital were bad, and Bobbi didn’t want to add another one to the pile.

“I wouldn’t suggest it if I didn’t think it was necessary,” Melinda said. “I’m sorry, baby, but we need to go.”

Bobbi had no hope of holding back her tears, but she didn’t have much of a choice. Melinda woke Phil and he helped her to the car, murmuring words of encouragement Bobbi’s brain couldn’t process.

The seatbelt dug into her stomach when Bobbi strapped herself in and Bobbi moaned. Melinda stroked a hand through Bobbi’s hair when she gave Bobbi the plastic bucket to put on her lap, just in case the car ride made her stomach worse.

“I don’t wanna go,” Bobbi said again when Melinda backed out of the driveway.

“I hear you, honey.” Melinda glanced over at her, and in the darkness Bobbi couldn’t read her expression. “I hear you, and I’m sorry.”

“I don’t wanna go.” Bobbi was aware that she had just said that, but she couldn’t keep the words from coming out again.

“I know,” Melinda said. This time there was no mistaking the expression on her face: fear. “Hate me if you want to, but this is what you need.”

“I don’t hate you.” Bobbi squeezed her eyes shut when they jolted against a pot hole in the road, sending a white hot poker through her stomach. “You hate me.”

“Bobbi, there is absolutely no universe where I hate you.”

“But you should,” Bobbi said, not opening her eyes so she wouldn’t have to look at Melinda. “All I ever do is upset you.”

“Oh, my baby. You have to know that’s not true.”

“Why didn’t you say you loved me, Mom?” Bobbi said, tears sliding down her cheeks through her closed lashes. “I just wanted you to say it and you didn’t.”

“I didn’t say it because I didn’t think you would believe me,” Melinda answered, the words stabbing through Bobbi right along with the pain in her gut. “Phil and I have been trying to figure out what you were upset about so we could fix it. Phil told you before but I’m telling you again: we believe in showing you we love you, not just telling. Apparently we’re still not doing a very good job of it.”

“Maybe I want to be told sometimes.” Bobbi bit back a sob. “Even if I don’t believe you, maybe I just want to hear it.”

Melinda was silent for the rest of the car ride to the hospital, perhaps too busy paying attention to the road or perhaps unsure of how to respond to Bobbi’s declaration. They pulled into the parking lot at the emergency room entrance, and Bobbi hissed as she twisted to undo her seatbelt. Melinda hurried around the car to help her out of it, planting herself so Bobbi wouldn’t slip on any icy patch with her already-compromised balance.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Melinda murmured, holding onto Bobbi’s forearm.

“I don’t wanna go,” Bobbi whimpered one last time. The red fluorescent light from the emergency room sign washed over the otherwise-dark parking lot, dripping blood over the asphalt.

“I know, baby, I know.” Melinda ran her fingers through Bobbi’s hair. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.” She kissed Bobbi’s forehead firmly. “I’ll take care of you. I promise.”

Bobbi allowed herself to be led into the emergency room doors, mostly because she didn’t have the energy or presence of mind to fight back. Melinda deposited her in one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs, but Bobbi couldn’t relax into it without putting too much pressure on her back and making it even more painful to exist.

She counted her breaths while Melinda talked with the woman at the front desk, except she kept forgetting what number she was at and having to start over.

“Bobbi,” Melinda said after Bobbi restarted for the fifth time. “A doctor can see you now.”

Bobbi reached for Melinda like an infant, but her foster mother stepped into her grasp, allowing Bobbi to link her arms around the back of her neck. Melinda half-helped, half-lifted Bobbi out of the seat, supporting her all the way to the examination room. The bed was just another torture device, another place to wait, but she didn’t have to wait long.

“Hi, Barbara,” the doctor said as she snapped on a pair of nitrile gloves.

“It’s Bobbi,” Melinda corrected when Bobbi couldn’t make the words for herself.

“Bobbi,” the doctor amended. “I understand you’re in quite a bit of pain?”

Bobbi nodded.

“I’m going to take your temperature and then take a look at your stomach, okay? Can you lift up your shirt for me?”

Bobbi nodded again, fumbling around until she managed to bare her stomach to the doctor. The doctor took that time to take Bobbi’s temperature with one of the fancy, touchless thermometers.

“One oh three point four,” the doctor read off. The nurse in the corner of the room scribbled the number down.

“This might make the pain worse,” the doctor warned as she moved her hands down to Bobbi’s stomach. The doctor pressed in, which hurt — but not nearly as much as it did when she suddenly removed the pressure. Bobbi yelped, grabbing for something to hold onto. Melinda’s hand appeared in hers and Bobbi clung to it tightly.

“We’re going to need a CT scan to confirm, but I’m fairly confident that your instincts were right, Mrs. Coulson,” the doctor said to Melinda. “Bobbi, it looks like you have appendicitis.”

“I have to have surgery?” Bobbi said, gripping onto Melinda’s arm. She didn’t want to have surgery. Surgery meant at least one needle when they jabbed her for the anesthesia, probably more than that. Surgery meant being alone with doctors. Surgery meant all sorts of bad things she didn’t want to think about, but she couldn’t not think about her. Her breathing quickened.

“If the CT scan confirms it, yes,” the doctor said. “I’m sorry.”

“Mom,” Bobbi said, turning to Melinda. “Please don’t make me. Please.” Logically, she knew Melinda didn’t have anything to do with the decision, but her foster mother was the only one in the room she knew and the only one she trusted.

“Baby,” Melinda said, scooting her plastic hospital chair closer to the hospital bed. “If you don’t have the surgery now you’ll get even sicker, and I don’t want that. I don’t think you want that either.”

“What if I die?” Bobbi said, adding another fear onto the pile she already had. Dying in the middle of surgery would almost be worse than dying a slow and painful death. She wanted to be able to say goodbye when she died, and she couldn’t do that if she crashed in an operating room.

“You’re not going to die,” Melinda assured her. “I promise.”

The doctor said something else to Melinda, but Bobbi didn’t hear it, too focused on Melinda’s words ringing in her ears. If Melinda promised, could she believe it?

She had come when Bobbi called this time. That had to mean something, didn’t it?

“Promise I’m not going to die,” Bobbi pleaded when the doctor and nurse had left the room.

“You’re not going to die,” Melinda repeated firmly. “I know this is scary, baby, but I need you to take a deep breath and calm down for me.”

Bobbi did as she was told, breathing in as deeply as she could manage without hurting her stomach.

“Good. Another one.”

Melinda slowly coaxed Bobbi into some state resembling calm, but even when panic was no longer imminent Bobbi couldn’t bring herself to let go of Melinda’s hand. Her foster mother didn’t seem bothered, murmuring soft encouragements to Bobbi as they sat together.

The door opened and Bobbi squeezed Melinda’s hand tightly.

“Hi,” the man in the doorway said. “I’m here to take Barbara to get her CT?”

“Bobbi,” Melinda corrected again. “Can I come with her?”

“I’m afraid not. Space limitations,” the orderly said apologetically.

“Mom,” Bobbi whimpered.

“I know baby, I know,” Melinda soothed. “You have to be brave for me, Bobbi. I’ll be right here when you get back, okay?”

“Promise?” Bobbi asked, voice wobbling.

“I promise.” Melinda stood so she could get out of the way of the orderly, who was rounding the bed to push it away to the CT room. At least that meant she didn’t have to move and jostle her poor stomach any more than it already was. “It’s going to be okay, baby,” Melinda said, grabbing Bobbi’s hands in hers.

“I’m scared, Mom,” Bobbi whispered.

“I know, sweetheart. I know.” Melinda brought Bobbi’s hands up to her mouth, pressing a kiss to the back of each. “But you’ll be okay. I’ll be waiting.”

“Okay,” Bobbi sniffed.

“I love you.” Melinda pressed a kiss to Bobbi’s head.

Bobbi believed her.

Chapter Text

“Muh?” Bobbi wiped at her eyes, trying to regain any one of her senses but failing miserably. Her eyes remained stubbornly shut, her tongue heavy in her mouth, her nose stinging with the scent of something strong and sharp that didn’t allow her to distinguish anything else.

“Hey, love.”

She recognized that voice. Bobbi pried her eyes open, turning over to see Hunter at her bedside.

“Wha…?”

“You’re in the hospital because you had surgery to remove your appendix. You had a bad reaction to the anesthesia they used so it’s taken you a while to come back ‘round,” her boyfriend explained in a slow, patient voice. “The surgery went well but you have to be careful; you have a lot of stitches.”

“Why are you here?” Bobbi croaked. Hunter wasn’t supposed to be here; he was supposed to be in school.

“Because I couldn’t be anywhere else.” A small smile tugged at Hunter’s lips. Bobbi tried to reach for him, but she hadn’t gotten control of her arms back yet and it ended up seeming more like she was trying to punch him in the face. He dodged it easily, then took her hand in his, his warmth seeping through her in the cold hospital room.

“Where’s my mom?” Bobbi asked, looking around. She wasn’t there. She said she was going to be there. She promised.

Hunter blinked. “Melinda’s out at the nurse’s station. I think she’s reminded them about a hundred times that you’re allergic to amoxicillin.”

“Bobbi?” Melinda appeared in the doorway as if summoned.

“Mom!”

Hunter stepped out of the way as Melinda rushed over to Bobbi’s bedside, already fussing.

“How are you feeling?” Melinda asked, pushing Bobbi’s hair back from her face.

“Bad,” Bobbi answered, deadpan. The pain in her stomach had been replaced with a strange, dull ache that Bobbi guessed was her surgery site. Her throat felt like sandpaper and while her headache wasn’t nearly as bad as it had been the previous morning, it still wasn’t comfortable by any stretch of the word.

“I’ll see if they can get you more pain medication,” Melinda said, running her fingers through Bobbi’s hair.

“Don’t go,” Bobbi whimpered, reaching for Melinda. This time she succeeded in not accidentally injuring the person she was trying to reach for, and Melinda clicked her tongue, stepping closer to Bobbi’s bed.

“I won’t go if you don’t want me to, baby. But let me call Phil and let him know you’re awake.”

Bobbi’s eyes wandered while she half-listened to Melinda’s end of the conversation with Phil. Her hospital room was small and white, but there was a pop of color in the corner in the form of an orange-and-yellow bouquet.

“Flowers?” Bobbi asked when Melinda hung up the phone.

“Hunter brought them,” Melinda explained. “For Valentine’s Day.” Bobbi looked around, but her boyfriend had disappeared. Her lower lip snuck out. She wanted Hunter back.

“He’s been worried sick over you,” Melinda said fondly. “From what I understand Vic and Izzy had to keep him from driving here the moment Phil called.”

“Why’d you call him?” Bobbi asked, blinking plaintively at her foster mother. “I thought you hated him.” She could only remember brief snatches of the last twenty-four hours, but the argument about her foster parents disliking Hunter occurred far before her memory went staticky.

“I don’t hate him,” Melinda assured her, bending to kiss her forehead. “He makes you happy, and that’s all that I want.”

“I love him, Mom.”

“I know you do,” Melinda said. “And he loves you right back.”

“We were supposed to do something for Valentine’s Day.” Bobbi froze. Oh no. “So were you and Dad.”

“He cancelled the reservation this morning,” Melinda said. “Neither of us could’ve enjoyed dinner if we were busy worrying about you.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault, baby. I think it’s safe to say you wouldn’t have chosen this to happen if you could.”

Bobbi nodded. She definitely wouldn’t have chosen anything that ended with her in the hospital — even if it wasn’t so bad with Melinda there beside her.

A nurse bustled into the room with a clipboard. He took Bobbi’s temperature and asked her a slew of questions about how she was feeling and what she remembered about the night before, noting everything down on the clipboard with a strict professionalism. At least he called her Bobbi, and not Barbara.

A doctor joined the nurse after a few minutes, and as soon as she walked into the room Bobbi’s brain shut down. She had been doing such a good job of not freaking out after waking up, but she knew if she listened to what the doctor had to say she was going to lose her cool. Instead Bobbi focused on Melinda’s hands, steady and firm in hers. She was going to be okay, because Melinda was with her.

“Did you understand all that?” Melinda asked when the medical staff had departed.

Bobbi shook her head.

“They’re going to keep you overnight for at least one more night to make sure you’re recovering well, and then you can come home,” Melinda said. “Whether or not you get discharged depends on how long it takes for your fever to break and your pain levels to go down to something we can manage at home.”

“But I wanna go home,” Bobbi said. She wanted to be out of the hospital and away from everything that made her anxious.

“I know. Is there anything you want Phil to bring when he comes to visit later?”

“Birdie,” Bobbi answered immediately. “And Pàng. And Elena’s quilt?” The last she was most hesitant on; she didn’t want to demand too many things, but the hospital blanket draped over her legs was thin and scratchy and not at all comfortable.

“I’m sure he can bring those,” Melinda said. “Do you want him to bring your phone?”

Bobbi nodded. She guessed she’d have at least one message from Anne asking where she was, and maybe some others too.

“I missed Science Olympiad practice,” Bobbi said glumly.

“Daisy said she’d tell your friends what happened. I’m sure Anne will understand.”

“I know. But it’s not going to look good for my scholarship.” Consistent attendance was important to convince the scholarship committee she deserved their money.

“I think they’ll overlook absences due to unforeseeable circumstances,” Melinda said. “Try not to worry too hard, honey. You need to save your energy for getting better.”

“I know,” Bobbi mumbled. “Just don’t like it.”

“Of course you don’t,” Melinda said sympathetically. “But you have to rest sometime.”

“I spent all of yesterday asleep,” Bobbi pointed out. “And… what time is it?”

“About three o’clock.”

“So over twelve hours today.”

“And you needed every one of them.”

“I know,” she grumbled. “Still don’t have to like it.”

Melinda chuckled. “That’s my girl.”

---

Hunter returned to her hospital room not long later, a giant gift bag in his arms.

“Your Valentine’s gift,” he explained when Bobbi raised an eyebrow.

“I thought the flowers were my gift.”

“You really think I, master of melodrama, would be content giving my girlfriend only a bouquet of flowers for Valentine’s Day!?”

“You haven’t given me anything for Valentine’s Day for years,” Bobbi pointed out with a weak smile.

“I was younger then. And foolish.” And she hadn’t told him she wanted to celebrate Valentine’s Day then, either.

“And now you’re so old and wise?” Bobbi’s smile grew.

“I might even have a gray hair,” Hunter said, smirking back at her.

“I don’t have anything for you.”

“I don’t give you gifts because I want something from you,” Hunter said, seeming offended by the idea. “Besides, I’m giving you this because I love you. So as long as you love me back, we’re good.”

“I do love you,” Bobbi agreed. How could she not, when he made her smile even when she was feeling like death warmed over?

“Then you may have this gift, Miss Morse.” Hunter set the bag gently on her lap, then helped her prop herself up to sitting with the help of the adjustable hospital bed and a few pillows.

The first thing Bobbi pulled out (after a wad of tissue paper larger than her head) was a heart-shaped box of chocolates.

“I know you’re not going to be able to eat them for a while but I didn’t want to take them out,” Hunter said apologetically.

“It’ll be a nice goal,” Bobbi said. Melinda said she was going to be on a bland diet for at least a week, and working herself up to the sweets would be something to look forward to.

She continued with the gift, pulling out two packages of Polaroid film for her camera. Bobbi had used quite a bit of it over the impromptu snow break, and she was glad to have more. When she got home she was going to have to document her appendicitis recovery with some photos.

The final object in the bag was soft and squishy, and Bobbi’s heart melted when she pulled a stuffed animal out of the bag. She had anticipated one of the classic Valentine’s Day teddy bears, but the ball of fluff in her hands was so much better than that.

The animal was a polyester puffball with a tiny head and even tinier legs, but despite its adorable proportions it was clearly a deer. She rubbed one of the felt antlers between her fingers, then bopped the deer on its button nose.

“Is everything in working order?” Hunter asked with faux seriousness.

“All up to code,” Bobbi agreed, cradling the stuffed deer against her chest.

“I thought maybe I’d get you your own Maddy, but then I thought this might be better,” Hunter said. “Since it’s me?”

Bobbi looked at him in askance. Hunter was in no way, shape, or form a deer.

“Hartley? Hart? Come on, Bob, you’re the biologist!”

“Oh!” Bobbi said, holding the deer toy even closer to her. “It’s you.”

“Well, I figure you’ve got a stuffie from your biological family, and a stuffie from your foster family, so you might as well have one from your family-to-be, too.”

“You’re not my family-to-be,” Bobbi said, corners of her mouth turning down. Sure, there was nothing tying her legally to the Hartleys, but both she and Hunter knew you could be someone’s family long before it was officially legal. “You’re already my family.”

Hunter gave her a watery smile. “Yeah, I s’pose I am.”

“Do not smooch, there are children in the room,” Daisy announced as she walked through the door.

“You’re not a child,” Bobbi scoffed.

“No, but I am,” Kora said brightly.

“Hey, Kora,” Bobbi said, expression softening when she saw her little sister hovering in the doorway. “Come here.”

Kora hesitated. “What if I hurt you?”

“You’re not going to hurt me just by standing close,” Bobbi said, bemused. “But you might hurt my feelings if you stay all the way over there.”

Kora reluctantly made her way closer, stopping at the foot of Bobbi’s bed. “That’s a lot of tubes.”

“C’mere.” Hunter beckoned her closer and Kora obeyed.

“This right here is giving Bobbi fluids since she still can’t drink much without hurting her stomach,” Hunter explained, pointing to the IV bag hanging next to Bobbi’s bedside. She tried not to think about it too much, because having an IV meant she had a needle semi-permanently embedded in her body, and that was enough to make her panic. “It also is helping give her some antibiotics right now, since taking antibiotics by mouth would hurt her stomach, too. Same thing with pain medication.”

“What’s that?” Kora said, pointing to a bag hanging on the railing of the hospital bed. Bobbi flushed.

“That’s called a Foley bag,” Hunter answered. “When they put Bobbi under anesthesia she couldn’t use the bathroom by herself, so the bag catches everything in her bladder.”

“It’s her pee?”

“It’s her pee,” Hunter confirmed. Bobbi looked away from Kora’s shocked face, and made a mental note to ask the nurse when she could take the catheter out.

“Gross.”

“No kidding,” he deadpanned. “Anyways. This thing —” he pointed to the pulse oximeter on Bobbi’s finger “— lets the nurses know how well Bobbi’s breathing and what her heart rate’s like. They have it on all patients in case something unexpected happens, but they’re paying close attention to Bob’s since she has a known antibiotic allergy and they want to make sure the one they’re giving her now is okay.”

“And so far it is?” Kora asked.

“So far. So it’ll probably stay alright, because normally people don’t have delayed reactions to antibiotics. At least that’s what the nurses told me.” Hunter steered Kora into his former position at the bedside. “Just be careful not to pull on any of the tubes and you’ll be fine. You won’t hurt her.”

Hunter pulled a chair over for Kora to sit in, then added another for Daisy. He stayed in the room, but hung back while Kora and Daisy drew closer.

“How’s Piper?” Bobbi asked Kora. She knew her younger sister had planned to tell her parents about liking girls before Valentine’s Day, but wasn’t sure if the plan had ever panned out — or if Kora had the bravery to go through with asking her friend out on a date (or what passed for a date in middle school).

“Fine.” Kora looked down. “I wasn’t really thinking about her today.”

“We were all so worried about you,” Daisy added, voice trembling. “Mom said you were okay but you’re in the hospital.”

“I’m okay,” Bobbi reached her hand out for Daisy’s, squeezing when their fingers wrapped together. She still didn’t feel okay, but reassuring Daisy was more important than her own feelings. “Or at least I will be. Right now I just feel like I lost a knife fight. Which is basically what surgery is, right?”

Daisy cracked a smile. “Yeah.”

“Did you get any Valentines at school?” Bobbi asked innocently.

“As a matter of fact, I did. One of them was from the best older sister in the whole wide world.”

Bobbi grinned. “I thought you’d like it.” Her note to Daisy hadn’t been anything particularly sappy or sentimental, but it felt wrong to let Valentine’s Day pass without acknowledging the love she had for her sister.

“She got a different Valentine, too,” Kora added. “From a boy.”

“You weren’t supposed to tell her that! What if it hurts her!?”

“What if hearing that a boy asked you out hurts me?” Bobbi laughed. “No chance. Spill.”

“It was from Daniel.” Daisy blushed an impressive shade of pink. “He asked if I could do something with him today after school, but…”

“You could’ve done something with him. I’m not much fun right now,” Bobbi said. She had full control of her limbs, which was great, but she couldn’t really do anything with them.

“No way,” Daisy protested. “I just told him that I would love to go on a date with him, but after my sister gets out of the hospital.”

“And you tell Mom and Dad,” Kora reminded her.

“Tell Mom and Dad what?” Phil asked as he poked his head into the room.

“Nothing,” Daisy answered too quickly to be believable.

Phil gave her a look but didn’t push. “I brought you some things, but it looks like someone might’ve beaten me to the punch,” Phil said, gesturing to the deer stuffed animal still on Bobbi’s lap.

“Sorry.”

“Don’t apologize.” Phil slid between Kora and Daisy’s chairs so he could stand at the bed railing. He set a cloth bag down on the bed beside her before stooping to kiss the top of her head. “I’m glad you’re okay, kiddo.”

“Me too,” Bobbi said. She opened the bag Phil had brought, eagerly scooping out her stuffed animals and quilt. Phil helped her spread the quilt across her lap, and Bobbi relaxed almost instantly when its warmth settled over her.

“Can you take these things back to the house with you?” Bobbi asked, handing him Hunter’s gift bag.

“Anything you want.”

Daisy coughed, but her cough sounded suspiciously like the words favorite child.

“I want to go home, but I don’t think that’s happening,” Bobbi sighed.

“You need a little more time to heal,” Phil said, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. “Trust me, we want to get you out of this place too.”

“Fitz also has a hospital phobia.” Daisy winced. “He says sorry he didn’t come.”

“It’s fine,” Bobbi answered immediately. She wouldn’t want Fitz being uncomfortable for her sake — especially because her energy was rapidly waning and she wasn’t sure how much longer she’d be able to talk to her foster sisters. “Is Mack going to visit?”

“He said he’d swing by tomorrow if you’re not released yet,” Phil answered. “From what I gather Elena is upset with him about that.”

“For visiting me?” Bobbi asked, stomach dropping.

“For not visiting sooner,” Phil corrected. “But he didn’t want to overwhelm you.”

Bobbi bit her lip before she said something childish like but I wanted to see him.

“Maybe you can call him,” Phil said, digging Bobbi’s phone out of his jacket pocket. Bobbi accepted it, eyes slipping out of focus when she saw the absurd amount of missed notifications on her home screen.

“Thanks, Phil,” she said. “For everything.”

“Anything for my girl.” He kissed the top of her head again. “I’ll wait outside so you girls can talk about your top-secret girly stuff. Hunter, come with me?”

Hunter looked at Bobbi in wide-eyed shock, but she didn’t have anything to offer other than a shrug. She couldn’t guess what Phil wanted with her boyfriend, but hopefully Hunter would make it out alive.

“So,” Bobbi said, scooting up in her bed and turning to Daisy. “What’s this about Daniel?”

---

With all her visitors gone for the night, Bobbi’s hospital room transformed from intimidating but livable to downright terrifying. The machines she was still attached to beeped ominously, the red indicator lights pulsing steadily and throwing shadows along the walls.

“Mom?” Melinda was the only one allowed to stay in Bobbi’s room after hours, since Bobbi was a minor and Melinda was her guardian.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“I’m scared.” The last time she’d fallen asleep she’d woken up and been rushed to the hospital. It wasn’t like her appendix could burst again, but what if she fell asleep and woke up to something else awful happening?

“Oh, baby.” Melinda rolled off her cot, padding over to Bobbi’s bed, her socked feet soft against the tile floor of the hospital room. She didn’t stop beside Bobbi’s bed like everyone had all day, though — Melinda lifted her leg over the railing and pulled herself into bed beside Bobbi.

She expected herself to stiffen at the touch, as foreign as it was, but Bobbi’s first instinct was to relax into Melinda’s warmth, and she didn’t fight it.

“Here we go,” Melinda murmured, gently maneuvering Bobbi’s IV line out of the way so she could wrap her arms fully around her. “You’re safe now.”

Bobbi nodded, allowing her eyes to slip shut for perhaps the first time since she’d woken up that afternoon. The weight of Melinda’s arms around her was unfamiliar but not unwanted, her foster mother’s warmth at her back welcome in the chill of the hospital room.

Sleep came easily now that she was safe.

Chapter Text

As it turned out, being back home wasn’t all that different from being at the hospital, except that in her own bed Bobbi didn’t have the same constant anxiety as she did when she was in the hospital room. Her daily life was otherwise the same as it would have been, though — namely that she spent most of her time sleeping and the rest of it being rather miserable. Phil and Melinda woke her up at regular intervals so she could take her pain medication and antibiotics, but otherwise encouraged her to save her energy. When she was awake, Bobbi spent her free time flipping through the stack of get well soon cards on her bedside table. Phil had even bought her one, which was silly, but the Rest, You Must Yoda card made her smile every time she saw it, so Bobbi supposed it fulfilled its purpose.

Among the other cards were Valentine’s cards she had received from her friends. Ollie being the QSG president had paid off, because they were able to collect all the unsent cards and hand-deliver them. Bobbi had been asleep when they’d come by (since she was mostly always asleep), but Melinda had told her about their visit and, of course, given Bobbi the cards and accompanying flowers and chocolate.

It was weird. Bobbi couldn’t imagine what would’ve happened if she’d gotten appendicitis while she was living with her nana. She didn’t think her nana would’ve realized what was happening nearly as quickly as Melinda did, if she did at all. Bobbi probably would’ve waited to dial 911 until it was too late, and then… she shivered, cuddling up further in her blankets. Along with her get well card Elena had delivered an entire hand-crocheted blanket, which Bobbi frankly could not comprehend. Even if she had been crocheting twenty-four hours a day Elena would’ve had to be superhumanly fast to finish in the time she had. Bobbi tried not to let herself feel guilty for potentially stealing a project Elena had begun for someone else, but according to Melinda, Elena had teared up when she learned her quilt was one of the items from home Bobbi had asked for and appeared with the blanket the next day.

Speaking of Elena… Bobbi rolled over, checking the time.

Her heart sank.

Bobbi peeled herself out from underneath her blankets, rather pleased when she was able to make it out of her bed and all the way down the stairs without pausing for a break. She did, however, have to pause at the bottom of the stairs before shuffling into the kitchen.

“I missed Mack and Elena,” she told Melinda, who was sitting at the table with her laptop and a cup of tea.

“You did,” she agreed. “Elena left some soup for you if you want it.”

Bobbi nodded. It was long past dinnertime — hence why she had missed her brother and his wife — but hunger and pain were about the only two things that woke her up these days.

“Is it in the fridge?” she asked, already making her way over to the appliance in question.

“Middle shelf,” Melinda instructed when Bobbi opened the doors. She withdrew the Tupperware container, stomach grumbling when she opened the top and the smell of broth wafted up to her.

“You could’ve woken me up,” Bobbi said when she opened the microwave.

“We tried. You seemed out of it.”

“Oh.” Bobbi punched the reheat button with a sigh.

“Mack’s still going to be there when you’re better,” Melinda said gently.

“I know.” Bobbi sighed again. “I just miss him. And I miss talking to him.” Mack would know what to say about her repeatedly calling Melinda Mom when she was in the hospital. When she’d gotten home and regained some of her mental faculties Bobbi had stopped that rather abruptly, avoiding any occasion where she might’ve needed to address her foster mother by name. They still hadn’t talked about Bobbi’s worry that her foster parents hated her, let alone calling them Mom and Dad, and Mack… Mack would know what to do.

“He misses you too,” Melinda said, eyes soft. “I’m sure you can call tomorrow.” It was after Mack and Elena’s bedtime now, and it went unsaid that Bobbi wouldn’t want to disturb them.

Bobbi nodded. “It’s just not the same.” Talking to Mack over the phone was more awkward than talking with him in person — Bobbi knew, since she’d called him once since her homecoming, though not to talk about her woes.

Melinda hummed her agreement.

The microwave beeped and Bobbi withdrew the soup carefully, holding the bowl by the tips of her fingers so she wouldn’t burn herself. She set it down and was starting towards the cutlery drawer when she realized Melinda was already holding out a spoon and a packet of crackers.

Bobbi already knew what Mack would say, if she could talk to him about her name problem. He would say that he couldn’t tell her the answer, and she’d have to ask her foster parents herself.

“Melinda?” she asked as she slid into her seat.

“Yes, Bobbi?”

“While we were at the hospital, I called you Mom.” Bobbi began stirring her soup, creating a tiny whirlpool with her spoon. “Is that… is that okay? I understand if you were just being nice because I was sick. I — I don’t have to if you don’t want me to.”

“Look at me.” Bobbi did as she was told, averting her eyes from her swirling soup vortex. “You are my daughter as long as you want to be. I would be honored for you to keep calling me your mom.”

“Do you think it would be okay with Phil if I called him Dad?” Bobbi asked, voice small.

“I think he would love that, baby.”

Bobbi took a moment to savor the pet name. Baby. It had been a long time since she was anyone’s baby, just like it had been a long time since she’d had anyone to call Mom.

A stupid question leapt onto the tip of her tongue. Can you and Dad adopt me?

Luckily Bobbi managed to bite it back before it could spill out, even as a voice in her head that sounded suspiciously like Fitz’s egged her on. It would be too much right now, having only just admitted to herself that she thought of Phil and Melinda as her parents, and only then because of a life-threatening experience.

She began to eat her soup quietly, stirring it between bites to help it cool down. Bobbi guessed that when Elena had made the soup there was chicken and noodles in it as well, but her stomach wasn’t quite up to meat yet. Maybe noodles, but those didn’t reheat as well. Instead Bobbi crushed up a cracker to add to the soup, adding a bit of salt and texture to the otherwise simple but flavorful broth.

“Dad said you can go with him to work on Monday if you’d like,” Melinda said. “The doctor said you might not be up for school.”

Bobbi wanted to protest, but considering how much time she spent asleep she didn’t think she’d make it through lunchtime at school without divine intervention. “That might be fun.” She hadn’t seen either of her foster parents’ workplaces before. It would at least be different from sitting in her bed all day.

“Daisy said she can keep picking up your homework,” Melinda continued. “If you’d like.”

“Yeah,” Bobbi sighed. She had a pile of assignments she hadn’t felt up to touching, but she didn’t want to keep waiting too long, to fall too far behind.

“You don’t have to work on them now,” Melinda said, as if reading her mind, “but it’s good to have the work if you do feel up to it.”

“Why couldn’t I have gotten appendicitis after the AP exams?” Bobbi groused.

“Unfortunately we don’t get to choose the timeline of our illnesses,” Melinda answered with a sympathetic smile. “I’m sure you’ll be able to catch up in no time, Bobbi. You’re a good student and a hard worker.”

Bobbi flushed under the praise. “Thanks, Mom.”

God, she was never going to get sick of that word.

---

Driving to work with Phil instead of driving herself to school on Monday morning was a surreal experience. Everything seemed different and wrong and she wasn’t sure she liked it. Bobbi drummed her fingers on her leg as Phil wound them into the parking lot of a building that looked more warehouse than office, and her curiosity piqued. It occurred to Bobbi she didn’t know what an art restorationist did, let alone what their workplace would look like.

“Ah ah,” Phil said when Bobbi opened the door to the backseat and reached to get her backpack out. “You’re not supposed to be lifting anything heavier than a jug of milk.” Needless to say Bobbi’s backpack, with all her textbooks and laptop, was heavier than that.

“Dad.”

“Kiddo,” he rejoined, nudging her aside to take the backpack for himself. “If you rip your stitches we have to go back to the hospital. I know you don’t want that.”

Bobbi admitted defeat, shoulders slumping. “I don’t like being useless.”

“You’re not being useless,” Phil said firmly. “You’re healing from a surgery.”

“The door is also heavier than a jug of milk,” Bobbi pointed out when Phil allowed her to hold it open for him.

“I’m being benevolent.” Phil cracked a smile and Bobbi had to smile back, holding the door open with her foot while Phil stepped inside.

“Wow,” Bobbi breathed when Phil flicked on the lights. The place really was more of a warehouse than anything, with endless gray concrete floors and lofty rafters. The floor plan was incredibly open, though there were several distinct areas delineated by groups of furniture. The only separate part was a cube in the back corner that Bobbi guessed was the actual office.

“Do you want to see what I’m going to be working on today?” Phil offered as he led Bobbi into the space.

“Sure.” Maybe along the way she’d learn more about what Phil actually did.

He took her to the far wall, which had several huge shelves, paintings slotted into them like books. Phil paused before withdrawing one of the paintings carefully. “This is one of the pieces I’m restoring for a museum’s collection. I’ve already finished two but the collection is nine pieces so there’s quite a bit ahead of me still.” Phil turned from the wall, transporting the painting to a nearby table. He set it down with a gentleness that reminded Bobbi of how he talked to her foster siblings — how he talked to her. The painting itself didn’t look like anything special, kind of dirty and dull, but Bobbi didn’t know enough about art to comment beyond that.

“When I’m done cleaning this I have to let it rest for a while so I’ll work on a different project. I have quite a few I’m supposed to be delivering in the next month.”

“Did I make you fall behind?” Bobbi asked, worrying her lip between her teeth. Both of her foster parents had taken time off of work to be with her in the hospital, and if Phil had deadlines…

“You didn’t do anything,” Phil promised. “Come on, I’ll show you the office.”

The actual office area was quaint, with old wood furniture, a rickety office chair, and a beat-up couch pushed into the back corner.

“I used this a lot more before we had kids,” Phil said as he placed Bobbi’s backpack down. The sofa cushions nearly compressed impressively under the weight, the years having made them even softer and squishier than they had been in Phil’s glory days. “Glad I never got rid of it, though.”

Bobbi hummed her agreement as she wandered around the office. Phil’s desk was dominated by a large monitor screen and a cluster of photo frames. Most of the photos were copies of ones on the walls in the Coulson house — Phil and Melinda’s wedding photo, a picture of Kora riding on Mack’s shoulders, some family portrait from the last few years — but there was one Bobbi didn’t recognize. She picked the frame up without thinking, then looked back over her shoulder at Phil for permission to study it. He nodded encouragingly.

“That’s my mom and dad when they got married.” The man in the picture was handsome in an old-school sort of way, and Bobbi recognized Phil’s features on the unfamiliar face. The woman also reminded her of Phil, though that was more her general aura of warmth and caring than any particular resemblance.

Bobbi replaced the picture frame carefully, nearly knocking another photo over when she did so. Bobbi reached out to steady it, but her hand froze halfway there.

It was a photo of her. Her and Hunter, more accurately, beaming at each other in their Homecoming attire.

“That’s one of my favorite pictures of you,” Phil said, coming up behind her to right the photo frame. “It was the first time I remember seeing you truly happy.”

“Don’t apologize,” Phil said when Bobbi opened her mouth to do just that. “You needed time to adjust. That’s normal.”

“I’m happy with you now,” Bobbi offered, even though that wasn’t the entire truth.

“I’m glad you are, kiddo. That’s all we ever want.”

Bobbi moved away from Phil’s desk, still feeling off-kilter even though it made sense, objectively. Phil was her dad, and dads had photos of their kids on their desks — even their temporary kids.

“I’m going to get to work, but give me a shout if you need me, okay?”

Bobbi nodded, giving Phil a limp wave goodbye before settling onto the couch. She had plans for everything she wanted to get done for the day — but maybe a nap first.

---

Bobbi woke up to a strange buzzing sound echoing around the office. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, looking around to see if she could find the source of the buzzing.

“Dad?” she called, rolling off of the couch with a wince. She must have missed a dose of her pain meds, because her stomach didn’t usually hurt this much. Bobbi pushed out of the office, where the buzzing grew louder. Still no Phil in sight. Panic rose in her chest. Was the buzzing a fire alarm? A burglar alarm? Something else entirely? There weren’t any flashing lights or other indicators of distress, but maybe that was because this was an art restoration area and bright lights were bad for the art? “Daddy?!”

“Here, here,” Phil called, appearing from behind one of the support columns in the warehouse and hastily peeling off a pair of gloves. “It’s just the doorbell, kiddo, we’re okay.”

Bobbi trailed behind him to the front door, feeling rather silly for almost freaking out about a doorbell. Phil swung the door open, revealing a familiar figure.

“Hi, Mike!” she chirped, pain fading to the background in favor of excitement.

“Hey, Bobbi.” Mike looked from Bobbi, to Coulson, then back to Bobbi, brow furrowed. “What’re you doing here?”

“This is my foster dad,” Bobbi said. Mike knew more about foster care than most people thanks to his relationship with Idaho, and Bobbi guessed Idaho had probably mentioned she was back in care, too — though none of them could’ve anticipated Mike crossing paths with her foster father. Maybe Bobbi should’ve guessed when Phil mentioned the museum, since that was where Mike worked as a security guard

“Ah.” Mike nodded before returning his attention to Coulson. “Didn’t know you fostered kids, sir.”

“Bobbi’s our first in a while. You’re here to pick up the completed paintings?”

“If that’s alright with you.”

“Of course,” Phil said, beckoning Mike inside. “So, how do you two know each other?”

“Idaho Hartley is my partner,” Mike answered politely. “I’m sure if you know Bobbi you know the Hartley family.”

“We’ve met, yes,” Phil said. “Though I don’t think I’ve met Idaho. Just Hunter and his mothers.”

“Idaho’s away most of the time anyways,” Bobbi shrugged. “And I like Hunter better.”

“Agree to disagree on that one,” Mike said, flashing Bobbi a smile.

Phil took two of the paintings out from his shelf, but unlike the other ones which were just canvas and frames, these were in large boxes. Mike helped maneuver the boxes to an empty patch of table before lifting up the lid, letting out a low whistle.

“Magical work as always, Mr. Coulson,” Mike said, replacing the lid gently.

“It’s why we’re called T.A.H.I.T.I.,” Phil grinned.

“It’s a magical place,” Mike agreed with a laugh. Bobbi guessed it was some sort of inside joke she didn’t get.

“I’ll get the forms for you. Do you need help getting those out to the van?”

“I should be fine,” Mike said. “Thank you, though.”

Mike’s prosthetic arm made it difficult for him to maneuver cumbersome objects sometimes — Bobbi knew because she’d helped him move into his apartment once he’d gotten the job at the museum and didn’t need to squat in Idaho’s bedroom anymore. He didn’t seem to have any problem with the painting boxes, though, and Bobbi smiled as she followed him out to the van, curious to see how exactly priceless paintings got transported. Turned out it involved a lot of straps.

When they were back inside Mike signed some papers verifying he had picked the paintings up, and that was that. The transfer process was surprisingly simple but fascinating all the same.

“Take care Bobbi, Mr. Coulson,” Mike said, giving a mock salute.

“See you, Mike,” Bobbi said.

“Small world, huh?” Phil asked when Mike had left.

“You can say that again.” What were the chances she’d see her future brother-in-law while at work with her foster father? “Did I forget to wake up for meds?” Bobbi asked, wincing as she stood up from leaning against the table. Phil checked his watch and sighed.

“Yes. Don’t tell your mother.”

“Our secret,” Bobbi promised. “As long as I can have a painkiller now.”

“One painkiller and some crackers coming right up. You want to eat here or in the office?”

“Here is good,” Bobbi said, at least in part because it meant she didn’t have to walk all the way back to the office. “I wanna stay with you.”

“You really know the way to an old man’s heart.” Phil patted Bobbi on the shoulder before retreating to his office to get her snack and medication.

“You’re not old!” Bobbi called after him. She had a reputation of favorite child to protect, after all.

Chapter Text

“Okay, I have four outfit choices but I think at least three of them are too try-hard. Maybe all four.” Daisy walked in a circle around her bedroom, presumably because she was going to grab something and immediately forgot what it was. Bobbi attempted to hide her smile, but based on the glare her younger sister was giving her, she wasn’t successful.

“Don’t laugh! It’s important to pick out a good first date outfit!”

“I’m sure it is,” Bobbi said sagely. She couldn’t remember anything about her first date with Hunter, but she didn’t think saying so would help Daisy’s nerves.

“This one might be too short,” Daisy said, holding up a purple top with a black pleated skirt. Bobbi raised an eyebrow. She’d seen that skirt before, and it wasn’t short by any stretch of the word.

“Aren’t you going to wear tights or something?” It was still freezing outside and any skirt without leggings or tights would mean frozen knees.

“Well yeah, but Daniel’s old-fashioned.”

“So you’ve mentioned. Like ten times.” At least three of those ten times had been to remark on how he still didn’t have a cellphone and always called her from his family’s landline to talk, or passed her notes in class like some nineties romcom.

“I don’t want to give him a heart attack by showing my collarbones!”

“…He’s been to our school, right?” Dress code enforcement was lax at best, mostly because the teachers refused to enforce the more sexist dress code items like not allowing girls to wear spaghetti straps. Daniel had definitely seen a woman’s collarbone before if he had paid any sort of attention in school.

“You are being the least supportive big sister ever!” Daisy huffed, throwing her outfit back onto the bed. “You’re supposed to tell me he won’t mind seeing my collarbones if he likes me!”

“Uh, he won’t mind seeing your collarbones if he likes you?”

“It’s not the same now that I told you what to say.” Daisy flopped back onto her bed, staring at the ceiling. “You know what, I should just cancel. Tell him my dad decided he doesn’t want me to date after all. Maybe throw myself into the endless abyss of space.”

“That’s a little melodramatic.” Bobbi padded across the room so she could drop down next to Daisy. “Sorry I’m the worst big sister ever. I haven’t had that long to practice.”

“It’s fine,” Daisy sighed, rolling over to face Bobbi. “Maybe I’m just overthinking it.”

“You definitely are,” Bobbi said. “It’s one date, Daisy. It’s not going to decide the future of your relationship.”

“It is if he decides he doesn’t like me!”

“If he didn’t like you, he wouldn’t have asked you out,” Bobbi pointed out. “And if he really is as old-fashioned as you say he is he’ll probably give you at least three dates to prove yourself. Not in the gross way,” she added when Daisy opened her mouth. “And if he doesn’t like you after spending time with you he’s stupid anyways.”

“But I really like him,” Daisy said.

“I am aware.” She hadn’t spent the past two weeks listening to Daisy gush about the date to delude herself into thinking Daisy didn’t have it bad for the guy. “But relationships are two-way streets.”

“I know. It’s just like — Mom and Dad married young. Mack and Elena married young. You and Hunter are going to marry young. What if I’m the only one in the family who doesn’t get married before twenty-five?!”

“Then you’re the only person in the family who doesn’t get married before twenty-five,” Bobbi answered calmly. “It’s a relationship, not a race. And who knows when me and Hunter are going to get married, anyways. Vic and Iz want us to wait until after college and depending on how things go with finding jobs we might wait longer so we can pay for it ourselves and then there’s all the wedding planning to do…”

“You see, this is what I mean. You know exactly where you and Hunter are going to be. And it’s like — maybe I want a Hunter, you know?”

“Uh, no.” Hadn’t they covered that Daisy wasn’t into the scruffy vibes?

“He… he makes you smile the way no one else does. He makes you laugh. He understands what you’re trying to say before you even say it. But he also frustrates you and makes you angry sometimes and it’s not like — Hunter exists, you know? He’s not some fairytale prince coming to sweep you off your feet, he’s just the person you love. I don’t need some cosmic soulmates shit like in all the movies. I just need someone who exists, who’s there for me when I need someone to be.”

“Maybe Daniel can be that for you,” Bobbi said gently. “But maybe he won’t be. Asking anyone else to mean so much to you… is going to be scary. And uncomfortable. But especially scary.” As evidenced by how afraid Bobbi was to let her foster family mean more to her than they already did. “Hunter and I didn’t become the way we are because we asked for everything from each other from the start. The reason I know where Hunter and I are going to be is because I know where we’ve been. And I know that even in all the hard days, I still want it to be him, because we’ve had hard days before and come out the other side. That’s not a commitment everyone is going to want to make at fifteen.” Bobbi hated reminding Daisy that she was young, mostly because being young didn’t mean that Daisy couldn’t know what she wanted or how to get there — she just had to be careful to remember that she didn’t know everything. No one did.

“Sometimes I wish we could just skip ten years ahead to when we’re adults with real jobs and our own places and everything else,” Daisy sighed.

“I hear you.” Bobbi still hadn’t stopped wishing she could just skip to June, with whatever good and bad it might bring.

“I take back what I said about you not being a good big sister.” Daisy rolled over, burying her face in Bobbi’s hair. “You’re really good at it.”

“My little sister makes it easy,” Bobbi said, wrapping an arm around Daisy in half a hug. “She’s pretty great. Any guy would be lucky to go on a date with her.” Or any girl, in Kora’s case, though Kora still hadn’t told Bobbi about her date or lack thereof with Piper and Bobbi had been a bit too afraid to ask.

“Now you’re just being sappy,” Daisy mumbled.

“Only because I love you.” Bobbi smacked a kiss to Daisy’s cheek before sitting up. “Come on. I need to see your exposed collarbones in all your other outfits.”

“You’re rude.” Daisy grabbed her pillow, but Bobbi dodged out of the way before Daisy could hit her with it.

“Am not!”

“Are so!”

---

Bobbi didn’t mean to make Elena cry. She really didn’t. Bobbi just didn’t understand pregnant people at all, and apparently thanking Elena for the soup and the blanket she’d made was enough to turn on the water works.

“I’m sorry,” Elena said, wiping at her tears. “I really don’t like this part.”

“Um —” What was she supposed to do? Comfort her? Run away? Both?

“It’s okay, Yo-Yo.” Mack appeared in the doorway behind Elena, gently pulling his wife out of the doorway and then ducking her into a hug while Bobbi shuffled inside. “Family stuff makes her emotional,” he explained, dropping a kiss to the top of Elena’s head.

“Sorry,” Bobbi offered uncertainly. She didn’t know what the etiquette was here.

“Don’t apologize.” Elena let go of Mack so she could sweep Bobbi up in her arms. Elena was careful not to hug Bobbi too tight, which was easier for her than most since her belly was starting to get to the size where it got in the way of things like hugs. “I’m just so glad you liked them.”

“I did,” Bobbi said, resting her chin on Elena’s shoulder. She would’ve loved anything her siblings gave her, but especially when she hadn’t gotten to see Mack or Elena it was nice to know they were thinking of her. “I really missed you both.” It had only been a few weeks, but when she was used to seeing them at least every weekend, it felt different to be apart for so long. It was even stranger because unlike everyone else, she could see how long she’d been away from Elena, because her sister-in-law’s stomach had notably grown since the last time they saw each other in person.

“We missed you too,” Elena assured her. “Mack was so sad, all alone in the nursery. I think he cried.”

“Yo-Yo!” Based on Mack’s indignation, he actually had cried, which shouldn’t have made Bobbi as happy as it did.

“It’s okay to cry, Mack,” Bobbi said, forcing herself to keep a straight face. “I’d actually like to hear all about how you wept over me.”

“Have I mentioned lately you’re a little shit?” Mack laughed, ruffling Bobbi’s hair.

“No, but I’m glad to hear it.” She had missed this — getting to laugh with her big brother and sister, spending time in a house that felt like home. Though Bobbi had to admit the house she was living in felt more like home every day now that she was allowing herself to say at least some of what she felt.

“So, what have I missed without my spy in the big house?” Mack asked as they walked towards the nursery.

“Daisy went on a date last night. She still hasn’t told me how it went so I’m thinking either really well or really poorly,” Bobbi said, pushing her way into the nursery. She stopped dead when she crossed the threshold. So much had changed since the last time she was here.

“It looks like a lot but I promise it’s not,” Mack said, putting a hand on each of her shoulders. “We just put the rug down and hung up some photo frames. I still need all the help I can get.”

“Are you sure?”

“Wouldn’t have said it if I wasn’t,” Mack said. “I’m not going to replace my baby sister with just anyone, you know.”

“I just hate it,” Bobbi sighed. “My appendix gets infected and it’s like the world keeps on moving while I’m standing still.” She still had a pile of homework left to do and had only gone over to Mack’s because she needed the break from the monotony of it all. School, Science Olympiad, her friends — they had all kept moving while Bobbi was in the hospital, and she was just standing in place. The nursery moving forward too stung the most because it was the one thing Bobbi had hoped would’ve paused. Which was stupid and selfish, because Elena crept closer to her due date every day and Mack couldn’t just drop everything when Bobbi wasn’t available to help, but it was what it was.

“You’re not standing still. You’re healing,” Mack said, squeezing her shoulders. “Which is an important thing to do.”

“You sound like Mom and Dad.”

“It’s almost like they raised me or something,” Mack said. He let go of Bobbi’s shoulders, nudging her forward. “We have painting to do today, so we have to roll up the carpet again anyways.”

Bobbi helped Mack get the carpet up and a drop cloth down before he carried the rocking chair and wooden shelves he had made into the room.

“This is really nice,” Bobbi said, tracing her fingers along the back of the chair. “Are you sure you want to paint it?” Apparently the shop teacher at her school had a lot of opinions on painting wood — Ollie had told her about it when they’d FaceTimed earlier in the week.

“Elena wants it painted, and we agreed to paint it when we drafted the room, so I don’t see why not,” Mack shrugged. “I can always make another if we decide we don’t like it.”

“Yes, with all your abundant free time.” The closer to the due date they got the busier Mack seemed to become. Bobbi worried he was pushing too hard, but if she suggested as much he would just give her his big brother look and tell her not to worry about it.

“So,” Mack said, ignoring her jab in favor of opening the paint can. “Mom and Dad?”

“Melinda said it was okay if I called them that.”

“I’m not saying it’s not. You just didn’t seem that into it the last time we talked and I was curious what changed.”

Bobbi picked up a paintbrush, twirling it between her fingers. “I got sick, for one thing. And I guess it made me realize I see them as my parents even if they don’t see me as their daughter.”

“What makes you think they don’t see you as your daughter?” Mack hummed.

Bobbi shrugged half-heartedly. “I mean, I’m still waiting for them to bring up adoption. That would be a good place to start.” They were running out of time — the courts moved slowly and there was no guarantee that even if the Coulsons wanted to adopt her they’d be able to get a court date before her birthday.

“If they’re waiting for me to be ready, I don’t know how I can show them any more than I am now,” Bobbi continued, aware she was about to start rambling but unable to stop herself. “I call them Mom and Dad. I call you all my siblings and the house… I call it home now, I guess. And if the only way to show them I’m ready is to walk up and tell them what I want… I can’t do that.”

“Because you’re afraid they’ll say no?”

Bobbi nodded, blinking back furious tears so they wouldn’t get into the paint. “And I guess if they don’t see that… do they really even know me?”

“You can know someone well and still have blind spots,” Mack said. “It would be pretty painful, as a parent, to have to confront your kid not trusting you all the way.”

“I trust them. I just don’t trust the world. Even if they would always say yes if they were asked, life gets in the way.” The court system could keep them from adopting her even if that was what she wanted — and Bobbi was sure there were other obstacles she wasn’t even thinking about.

“But you can see why they might not see it that way.”

“Yeah.” Bobbi exhaled gustily. “It would be nice if I was just a normal, non-traumatized kid who could ask for exactly what they wanted without feeling guilty. Or scared. Or guilty-scared.”

“But Mom and Dad love you. You as you are, not you as you might’ve been if you were this hypothetical non-traumatized kid. That has to count for something.”

“It does. But counting for something doesn’t mean counting for everything.” Bobbi worried her lip between her teeth as she continued painting the rocking chair. “Besides, maybe they’d like me better than they do now if I wasn’t like this.”

“Oh, Barbara.” Mack put down his paintbrush and scooped her into an unexpected hug. Bobbi was pretty sure she’d gotten paint on his shirt, but oh well. “We love you, and all the things that made you you. Asking yourself hypotheticals about if we would’ve loved you more is just going to drive you mad.” He paused. “You know, if you weren’t traumatized we probably never would’ve met.”

“Yeah.” Bobbi sighed. If her parents hadn’t died she’d be normal — but she also wouldn’t have found her way to the Coulsons. It was strange, being so conflicted over it. Bobbi didn’t ever want to be glad her parents were dead, but she loved her new family an impossible amount, and she also didn’t ever want to wish she’d never met them.

“What could’ve happened or who we might’ve been doesn’t matter. We have to make do with what did happen and who we are, whatever that means.”

Bobbi nodded, chin bumping against Mack’s shoulder. “Wishing for things to change sucks.”

“It does,” Mack agreed. He let go of her, but Bobbi stayed close for a few seconds more before stepping back.

“I really, really missed you,” Bobbi whispered. “Thanks for being my brother.”

“I missed you too,” Mack answered, voice just as soft. “And thanks for being my sister.”

They painted in silence for a while, the rocking chair slowly transforming from raw wood to Exotic Orange.

“If you want me to, I can tell Mom and Dad how you feel about being adopted,” Mack said, breaking the silence.

“You don’t have to,” Bobbi said. “Neither of us really know what they’re thinking, right? Maybe they have a reason they haven’t told you.”

“Or maybe they don’t,” Mack answered. “I just want you to be happy. And because I’m selfish, I kind of want you to be my sister forever.”

“A piece of paper doesn’t change that, does it?” Bobbi asked, worry buzzing in her chest.

“Of course not. But if we can get the piece of paper I wouldn’t say no to it.” Mack shrugged. “If you don’t want to I don’t have to. But I thought I’d offer.”

“I’ll let you know.” Bobbi wanted things to settle a bit more before she started asking for big life changes like adoption. Once they found their new normal post-appendicitis she could ask, if she wanted to.

Bobbi was beginning to think maybe she wanted to.

Chapter Text

“Sooo,” Bobbi said, leaning against the doorway of Daisy’s bedroom. “Are you ever going to tell me about your date with Daniel or am I going to have to play twenty questions?”

She had tried to be a good, calm older sister and not immediately push Daisy for details, but it’d been five days and she still hadn’t heard a peep. Bobbi was nosy, but more importantly she was worried. If she was going to egg Daniel’s house she needed to make sure she did it when he would realize the reason he was being egged was because he hurt her little sister.

“It was fine.” Daisy shrugged.

“It was… fine?” Bobbi repeated. “All that angsting about finding a soulmate beforehand and all I get now is it was fine?!”

Daisy shrugged again. “It was fine. You really should be interrogating Kora.”

“Kora?”

“She didn’t tell you? She went out with Piper yesterday.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Bobbi tried not to be hurt that Kora had kept that piece of information from her, but it was hard not to be. “Did she ever even come out to Mom and Dad?”

“Nope. She had a whole plan for Valentine’s Day morning and giving them rainbow hearts and blah blah blah I love girls, but…”

Bobbi sighed, sinking into Daisy’s desk chair. “Great. I ruined it.”

“Not everything is about you,” Daisy said, voice sharp. “She chose not to do it, and if she wanted to do it since then it’s not like anyone or anything was stopping her.”

“So she’s just… not coming out?”

“I guess not.”

Bobbi groaned, dropping her head into her hands.

“What?”

“Well I’m still bi and I kind of wanted to know if your parents were okay with everything before —” Asking them to adopt me.

“Before?” Daisy prompted.

“Nothing.” Bobbi still wasn’t comfortable admitting to anyone other than Mack that she wanted Phil and Melinda to adopt her. Sure, Daisy probably knew that without Bobbi spelling it out to her, but saying it aloud made it more real. Besides, she got the feeling Daisy was upset with her, with how short she was being. Definitely not the right time. “Did Kora tell you anything about her date with Piper, then?”

“Nope. I kind of figured she’d run to you,” Daisy said, voice sharp.

“Me?”

“I mean, Kora doesn’t really need me as an older sister anymore now that she’s got you,” Daisy said bitterly. “You know more about everything, anyways.”

Bobbi opened her mouth, then closed it. She had no clue how to respond to that accusation, especially since Kora hadn’t told her anything. Curiosity about where the attitude was coming from nipped at the edges of Bobbi’s brain, but mostly she was confused. Really, really confused.

“I don’t know more about everything,” Bobbi finally managed. She barely knew anything unless the subject was biology, but she didn’t think that was what Daisy was talking about.

“Of course you do! You know more about dating, you know more about liking girls —”

“Keep your voice down,” Bobbi hissed. The last thing she needed was for Phil and Melinda to hear she wasn’t straight because Daisy’s voice was too loud.

“No!” Daisy yelled. “You’re not allowed to boss me around just because you’re older, you know!”

“I’m not bossing you around,” Bobbi spluttered, perplexed. Had she been too bossy, or too much of a know-it-all? She didn’t think so, but if Daisy was saying she was…

“Of course you’re not, because you’re Miss Perfect!” Now Bobbi was just confused. Had she been bossing Daisy around or not? And what was this about her being perfect? “I know you’re everyone’s favorite, you don’t have to rub it in!”

“Huh?” Bobbi thought she was probably supposed to be yelling back, but she didn’t know what to yell about. She wasn’t anyone’s favorite, let alone everyone’s.

“Stop playing dumb!” Daisy shoved at the desk chair Bobbi was sitting on with her foot. “And get out of my room!”

Bobbi did as she was told, jumping out of the chair and crossing Daisy’s room in three long strides. She shut Daisy’s door behind her, but before she could start up the stairs, Daisy opened the door just to slam it again, louder.

Well, Daisy was definitely angry. Bobbi just wasn’t sure why. Even though Daisy said she was playing dumb, Bobbi was… baffled. Daisy had made jokes about Bobbi being the favorite child, but they were just jokes, weren’t they? And it wasn’t like Bobbi was trying to replace Daisy as Kora’s older sister — she was trying to find her own place in the family, and being Kora’s older sister was one of her places whether Daisy liked it or not. In any case she’d made Daisy upset, and Bobbi didn’t like it. A knot of tension settled behind her breastbone as she trudged up the stairs and into her room.

Bobbi tried to do something to get her mind off the fight, but she didn’t know what to do. Fighting with Daisy felt different from fighting with Phil and Melinda. Daisy had always been on her side, and now…

She buried her face in her pillow, and screamed. She couldn’t manage to keep the one stable relationship in the house she had, and she hated it.

---

“Bobbi, dinner!” Fitz called through the door.

“Not hungry!” she called back.

In hindsight, saying she wasn’t hungry after having a major abdominal surgery probably wasn’t the smartest way to avoid confrontation, because no less than thirty seconds later was Melinda in her room, fussing.

“I’m fine, Mom,” Bobbi said, sitting up so Melinda could take her temperature. “I just didn’t feel like dinner.”

“Not feeling like dinner isn’t an option when you’re still recovering,” Melinda clucked. “Come downstairs.”

“No.” Bobbi folded her arms over her chest. “I won’t.”

“Bobbi,” her mother sighed. “What’s going on?”

Bobbi’s shoulders slumped. “Daisy and I had a fight. I think.”

“You think?”

“Well, she yelled at me. I didn’t yell back but she was angry.”

“It’s probably good you didn’t yell back.” Melinda smoothed Bobbi’s hair away from her face. “What was this fight about?”

Bobbi gave a half-hearted shrug. “Me being everyone’s favorite? It seemed like she was mostly upset about Kora liking me better than her. But Kora doesn’t even like me that much, and I’m confused about why Daisy’s mad at me for it now, and… I don’t know. I don’t like it when people are mad at me.”

“First of all, Kora loves you, so don’t say she doesn’t,” Melinda said, voice firm. “I understand not wanting Daisy to be mad at you, but in this case I don’t think you did anything wrong. It’s difficult to adjust to a family changing, and Daisy seems to be insecure in her relationship with Kora now that you’re here to stay.”

“Daisy doesn’t want me?” Bobbi asked tremulously.

“I never said that.” Melinda took Bobbi’s hand in hers, the gesture comforting even if her words weren’t. “I think she’s just scared.”

“I’m scared too,” Bobbi said, voice still wobbling. “I don’t know how to be a big sister and I thought I was doing well with Daisy but I wasn’t and…” And if you have to pick between her and me you’ll pick her.

“Baby.” Melinda squeezed Bobbi’s hand gently. “It’s normal for siblings to fight sometimes. You’ve seen Hunter and Idaho fight, haven’t you?”

Bobbi nodded. The Hartley house wasn’t always peaceful, even if they tried their best to make it that way when she was around.

“That doesn’t mean they love each other any less, just that they had a disagreement and needed to get some stuff off their chests.”

“Yeah, but…”

“But?” Melinda prompted.

“I don’t know. I’m not actually Daisy’s sister, am I?” It was easier to fight knowing the other person still had to love her in the end, but Daisy didn’t. None of them did.

“Of course you are,” Melinda said, squeezing Bobbi’s hands again. “You’re a part of our family. You’re everyone’s sister.”

“Not yours,” Bobbi said, attempting a smile.

“I thought that was implied.” Melinda smiled back, all wry humor and sparkling eyes.

“But what am I supposed to do, Mom?” Bobbi swung her legs back and forth in a futile attempt to work out some of her nervous energy. “I don’t like it when Daisy’s mad at me.”

“Of course you don’t,” Melinda tutted. “But I’m not sure it’s something you can fix. Daisy’s insecurities are her own, and you can’t make her believe that you won’t replace her any more than I could make you believe that I loved you. You had to come to that realization yourself, and she has to, too.”

“So I just have to let her be mad?”

“Sometimes space gives us the perspective we need,” Melinda said, which Bobbi took as a resounding yes. “If you want to wait until Daisy’s done eating dinner to come down you can, but you have to eat. You’re still —”

“Healing. I know.” She’d only heard that stupid word a hundred million times since her surgery. “Thanks, Mom.”

“Of course, baby.”

Melinda pressed a kiss to Bobbi’s forehead before departing her room, leaving Bobbi feeling better even though nothing had changed.

---

The first thing Bobbi saw when Kora opened the door to her room was the rainbow flag she had gotten Kora for Christmas taped to the wall with blue painter’s tape.

“I like it,” Bobbi said, pointing to the flag. Regardless of her own appreciation for the pride flag, she pulled the door shut behind her so Phil and Melinda wouldn’t see it if they happened to come walking down the hallway.

“Thanks,” Kora chirped. “Daisy helped me put it up.”

“Cool,” Bobbi said, ignoring her heartbeat accelerating at the mention of Daisy. The drives to and from school that day had been uncomfortable in a way Bobbi had never experienced before. Even in the beginning when she hadn’t known what to say to Daisy or if her foster sister even liked her, she had at least known it was because being in a new place with new people had awkward phases. An awkward phase was a far cry from… this.

“Daisy said she could get me a bigger one if I wanted,” Kora continued, oblivious to Bobbi’s discomfort, “but I think this one fits on my wall nicely.” Kora had several picture frames on her wall, too, and a bigger flag would cover them up.

“Did Daisy ask you how your date with Piper went?”

“It wasn’t a date,” Kora corrected hastily. “We just hung out together without our other friends.”

“Oh, sorry.” Bobbi shoved her hands into the pockets of her sweatpants. “I wasn’t sure, because you said you wanted to do something for Valentine’s Day.”

“You had that big fight with Mom and Dad, so I didn’t get to talk to them about, you know.” Kora slouched. Bobbi hadn’t realized that her foster siblings knew about that fight, but of course they had. She hadn’t exactly been subtle about freezing out Phil and Melinda. “And then you got sick on Valentine’s Day anyways, so it wouldn’t have mattered.”

Not everything is about you, Daisy’s voice snapped in her head when Bobbi opened her mouth to make an apology. Instead, she said, “Is there something stopping you from telling them now?”

“They just always seem really busy when I try to talk to them.” Kora shuffled over to her bed, sitting down with a heavy sigh. “They have all this paperwork they’re working on all the time and it seems like it’s stressing them out.”

“Probably stuff for spring break,” Bobbi suggested. The Coulson family took an annual vacation over the children’s spring break from school, but Bobbi wasn’t allowed to cross state lines without permission from her legal guardian — the state. If Bobbi had to guess, Phil and Melinda were either trying to get the state to agree to let her go with them to wherever it was (they still wouldn’t say where, which was a bit alarming) or organizing her respite care. Mack and Elena were licensed for respite care so Bobbi was probably just going to end up with them, but it still was a headache to figure out all the forms that needed to be filed.

“Oh.” Kora’s disappointment oozed off her.

My fault, again, Bobbi thought. Maybe they would be better off without me. Definitely a lot less complicated.

“Did you want to hear about me and Piper?” Kora asked after a stretch of silence.

“If you want to talk about it,” Bobbi offered. “If you don’t, that’s fine too.”

“I don’t really know what to say,” Kora admitted. “I like her a lot, and I think she likes me a lot, too. But it’s hard when she’s been my friend for so long and I’m still figuring out what it feels like to like like someone.”

Bobbi couldn’t help much on that front. Romantic love and platonic love felt similar to her, too, probably because Hunter had been her only friend before he became her boyfriend. Now that she had more friends the platonic love was getting easier to differentiate, but it was still difficult to articulate the differentiation — it just was.

“Maybe I can tell Mom and Dad after spring break,” Kora mused. “If they’ll be done with their paperwork by then.”

“That could work. But you also don’t have to wait if you don’t want to. I’m sure they’d be happy to take a break if they knew you wanted to talk about something important.”

“But making sure you’re safe is important, too,” Kora said, cocking her head to the side. “I don’t want them to stop their paperwork if that means you get to come with us.”

“I think they’ll be able to spare some time for your talk,” Bobbi said. “You matter to your parents, Kora.” Bobbi didn’t want to be the obstacle standing in the way of her younger sister and happiness. Even If Daisy was right and everything wasn’t about Bobbi, that didn’t change that she had been a part of everything that had stopped Kora from having the talk with her parents so far.

“I guess it’s also just easier to put it off,” Kora admitted. “It’s scary.”

“Yeah,” Bobbi sighed, sitting next to Kora on the bed so she could wrap her arms around her little sister. “I get it.” There was a reason Bobbi hadn’t come out to Phil and Melinda, either — and she felt more justified in her fear since Trip was keeping his relationships under wraps, too. It probably was nothing, but on the chance it was something, the results could be disastrous.

“You don’t have to tell them if you’re not ready,” Bobbi murmured. “Even if you want to date Piper, you can date her without telling Mom and Dad. And course I shouldn’t be telling you to keep a secret from them, but —”

“What if you told them you’re bi?” Kora asked suddenly. “And then it wouldn’t be scary.”

“Do you want me to do that?” Bobbi asked, ignoring the fear creeping up her throat.

“I — I don’t know.” Kora sighed. “I don’t want you to do anything you don’t want to do. And it would be kind of nice to be the first one to do something, for once.”

“I guess it’s hard to be the youngest of five,” Bobbi said softly. She’d spent her whole life an only child, so everything she did was noteworthy — until now, she guessed.

“Youngest of six now,” Kora corrected. “I like it most of the time. But it would be nice to be the first one to do something instead of the last.”

“I will do whatever you want me to,” Bobbi said. “If that’s telling your parents first —”

“Our parents,” Kora cut in. “You call them Mom and Dad, so they’re our parents.”

“They don’t always feel like my parents,” Bobbi said. “Especially when we talk about scary stuff.”

“You don’t have to,” Kora repeated, softer. “If you think that means they won’t want to adopt you.”

They don’t want to adopt me anyways. “I will do whatever you want me to. Whatever,” Bobbi repeated. “That’s what older sisters are for, right?”

“I’m telling Daisy you said that.”

“Kora,” Bobbi said warningly. “Try to be serious.”

“I don’t know, Bobbi,” Kora said finally. “Can I just think about it a little longer?”

“Of course. I didn’t mean to pressure you.”

“I know,” Kora said, leaning into Bobbi’s side. “I guess I just thought I’d be ready, and then I wasn’t ready, and now…”

“I love you no matter what, you know that?”

“Of course.” Kora wrapped her arms around Bobbi’s waist, pulling them even closer together. “And I love you. You’re the best big sister ever.”

Footsteps thudded outside Kora’s door, followed by the distinct pat-pat-pat of someone running down the stairs. Bobbi’s heart sank into her toes. She had one guess who could’ve been eavesdropping on the conversation between her and Kora, but she wanted desperately to be wrong.

There was no way to know without going to check, but Kora was still holding onto her, oblivious that there might’ve been someone spying on them. Bobbi had no choice but to hold on to Kora, and hope that loving one sister hadn’t destroyed her chances at loving the other.

Chapter Text

The letter on the kitchen table was going to change Bobbi’s life.

If she could ever get around to opening it.

She’d checked the mail after taking Cap on his afternoon walk, expecting bills for Phil or Melinda and nothing for her (as was typical), but here it was: a letter from OSU, addressed to her, that undoubtedly contained either her admission or her rejection. Why they didn’t just email her Bobbi didn’t know, but it did make for quite the drama.

Bobbi had the letter opener in her right hand, ready to be used, but every time she reached for the letter on the table she lost her nerve. She could wait for someone else to get home, but if it was a rejection, Bobbi wasn’t sure she wanted to make a spectacle of opening it.

Eventually Bobbi took a deep breath, grabbed the letter, and slid the letter opener across the top. The paper inside was folded into thirds and held closed with a sticker with OSU’s emblem on it, and Bobbi huffed out a sigh. She’d already had to gather her courage once and she didn’t want to do it again. When she held the paper up to the light, hoping to make a guess at whether it was an acceptance or rejection, she couldn’t make out any words because of the overlapping text.

You can do this, Bobbi told herself. You can do this.

She slid her thumbnail underneath the edge of the sticker, peeling it up and opening the letter in one smooth motion.

Dear Barbara,

I am pleased to inform you of your acceptance into the Undergraduate Bachelor of Science Program in Biological Sciences at Ohio State University.

Acceptance.

Acceptance.

Bobbi tried to read the rest of the letter, but her eyes kept skipping back to the beginning. Acceptance.

She was accepted into college.

Bobbi wasn’t sure if she should laugh, or cry, or both, or neither, so she just kept staring at the page, wondering if looking at it long enough would help reality sink in any faster.

She had to tell someone.

Bobbi was halfway down the stairs to the basement before she realized Daisy might not want to hear her good news. Her sister had been avoiding her even more after hearing Bobbi’s conversation with Kora, but of all the people Bobbi could tell, she wanted Daisy to be the first. She had been Bobbi’s staunchest supporter, never faltering in her belief that Bobbi would get in. She had given Bobbi her first (and so far only) piece of OSU spirit wear — but the sweatshirt would mean nothing compared to her sister being proud of her.

“Daisy?” Bobbi knocked on her sister’s door. “Can I come in?”

No answer.

“Daisy, please,” Bobbi sighed. “I know you’re mad at me but there’s something I want to tell you that’s really important.”

Just when Bobbi was about to give it up as a lost cause, Daisy opened the door. “What?”

Bobbi simply held the letter up for her sister to read. Daisy scanned the first few lines, but instead of smiling like Bobbi anticipated, her face fell into a frown. “You’re leaving?”

“I mean, yeah?” Bobbi blinked. Was she supposed to magically stay at the Coulson house while she was going to college? She supposed some people did, because of online classes or commuting or something, but that had never been Bobbi’s plan. She was clear about that from the beginning, so why was Daisy acting like this was a blindside?

“You see, this is why I didn’t want you getting close to Kora!” Daisy snapped. “You knew you were going to leave and you let her fall in love with you anyway!”

“It’s not like I had much choice!” Bobbi bit back, failing to fight the fury rising in her own chest. “I was going to leave anyways since your parents don’t want to adopt me!”

“God, how self-centered can you be!?” Daisy’s rapidly-escalating volume carried with it a hint of derision. “Everyone here loves you but you’re too busy feeling sorry for yourself to realize Mom and Dad have been asking if you want to be adopted for months! Poor Bobbi has the perfect boyfriend and the perfect friends and the perfect family, boo fucking hoo! She’s even going to college, but we should still feel sorry for her because she wasn’t offered up an adoption on a silver fucking platter!”

“That's rich coming from you!” Bobbi said, the anger balled up in her cinching tighter. “You’re the one with the perfect family and the perfect life and you still have abandonment issues because you know you’re impossible to be around and everyone wants to leave you!” Bobbi’s breaths came fast and heavy but she couldn’t stop the words she didn’t mean from spilling out.

“And your parents never asked to adopt me or I would’ve known!” She had been waiting for the moment for who knew how long, entirely focused on how the Coulsons felt about her and whether they wanted her. She couldn’t have missed that… could she?

“Now you’re calling me a liar, too?!”

“Maybe I am!” Bobbi threw her hands up in exasperation. “It doesn’t matter because you’ll put words in my mouth anyways!”

“Because you wouldn’t know anything about that!” Daisy shouted. “All you do is put words in other people’s mouths, which is exactly why you think everyone hates you!”

“Can you just shut up for once in your life?” Bobbi asked. “I told you about the letter because I wanted you to be happy for me but all you’re doing is yelling, which, by the way, isn’t helping the whole idea that you don’t hate me!”

“Fine, I’ll shut up,” Daisy hissed. “I’ll never talk to you again since that’s what you want!”

Daisy slammed the door in Bobbi’s face, and it took all of her fraying self control to keep from ripping up the letter in her hands. She didn’t want to do something she regretted because she was angry now… though it was a little too late for that. The words she had yelled at Daisy were already sinking deep into the pit of her stomach, sitting there heavy and immovable.

She had really messed up.

Bobbi took a deep breath, but it didn’t help. Neither did the next one, or the one after that.

She managed to get back up the stairs and through the kitchen, snatching both the empty envelope from OSU and her car keys off the table. Bobbi didn’t know where she was going, but she couldn’t stay in the house, where she only had Daisy’s anger for company.

Driving the familiar route helped. Knowing there was someone waiting for her on the other end helped. Being alone with no choice but to overthink her every word did not help.

Silent tears tracked down Bobbi’s cheeks by the time she drove down Mack’s street, and they only came down thicker when she saw her brother in the garage, inspecting his motorcycle. He looked up when she pulled into the driveway, dropping his tools when he saw her upset face.

“What’s the matter?” Mack asked when Bobbi stepped out of the car.

She shook her head wordlessly, allowing her brother to pull her into a hug.

“I had a fight with Daisy,” Bobbi managed in between sobs. “And now she hates me for real and Mom and Dad will hate me when she tells them what I said and — and —” She gasped in a few fruitless breaths, everything she was going to say collapsing under the weight of her cries.

“Nobody’s going to hate you,” Mack soothed, rubbing circles into Bobbi’s back.

“You don’t know what I said,” Bobbi sputtered.

“Doesn’t matter. Nothing you said could possibly make us hate you.” Mack kept rubbing at her back and shoulders, the rhythm of it gradually slowing Bobbi’s pounding heart. “Have I ever told you about the time Fitz gave me a black eye?”

“N-no.”

“Why don’t you come inside and I’ll tell you?” Mack suggested, holding Bobbi out to inspect her. “You look like you could use something to drink. Elena’s been making a bunch of really weird lemonade, bet she’d love to have someone else try it.”

“Okay.” Bobbi wiped at her eyes, even though they were still leaking tears. “Just let me get my keys.”

Bobbi ducked back into her car to grab her keys from the ignition and, on a whim, the letter she had dropped in the passenger seat.

“What’s that?” Mack asked as he waved her through the garage door and into the kitchen.

“My OSU letter.”

“You got your letter?” Elena asked, already preparing three glasses. She either had heard them talking in the driveway or she and Mack had some sort of telepathic link. Bobbi was leaning towards the latter.

“Yeah,” Bobbi sniffed.

“Not good news?” Elena asked sympathetically.

“I got in,” Bobbi said miserably.

“…I thought you wanted to go to OSU?” Elena cocked her head as she poured the lemonade, which was a strange fuschia color.

“I do,” she sighed. “But I got in a fight with Daisy over it and I’m an awful sister and —”

“You’re not an awful sister,” Mack interrupted. “You said some things you didn’t mean, and once you’ve calmed down you can go home and apologize. But first you promised to listen to my Fitz story.”

“And drink my lemonade,” Elena said, setting one of the glasses in front of Bobbi. “It’s strawberry elderflower.”

“Which one makes it this color?”

“That’s just food coloring,” Elena laughed. “Let me see your letter while you listen to Mack.”

Bobbi passed her acceptance letter over to Elena, taking a sip of lemonade and settling back into her chair so she could listen to a very enthusiastic story involving Mack, Fitz, and a bucket of cheese puffs.

Just when Mack was about to get the good part — also known as the part where Fitz actually gave him the black eye — Bobbi’s phone buzzed. She checked the caller ID and sighed, holding up a finger so Mack would pause his story.

“Hi, Phil.”

“Bobbi.” He sounded relieved. “Where are you?”

“With Mack.”

“Oh, thank God. We called the Hartleys and when they said you weren’t there we started to worry.” Phil exhaled into the phone again. “We’re coming to get you.”

“If you need me home I can just drive myself —”

“We’re coming to get you,” Phil repeated more firmly. Bobbi blanched. That didn’t sound good.

“I’m sorry, Phil.”

“I’ll see you soon, Bobbi.” She noted he didn’t accept her apology, which didn’t bode well.

Bobbi set her phone on the table, tears threatening to spill over once again.

“Don’t cry.” Mack’s hand appeared on her shoulder.

“They’re going to put me back into the system. I just know it.”

“You don’t know anything,” Mack said firmly but not unkindly.

“I should probably go wait for them,” Bobbi sighed. “Thanks for the lemonade, Elena. It was really good.” Truth be told it tasted like drinking shampoo, but Bobbi had drunk the whole thing without meaning to, so it couldn’t be that bad.

“Take my jacket if you’re going to wait outside,” Mack said, already reaching for the coat hook. Of course he would’ve noticed Bobbi hadn’t worn a jacket — she hadn’t been thinking about it when she left the Coulsons’.

“And don’t forget your letter.” Elena slid it across the table, avoiding the ring of condensation left behind by the lemonade. “No matter what happens, your parents should be very proud of you. A full scholarship is no small feat.”

“Full scholarship?” Bobbi echoed.

“You didn’t read that part?” Elena’s eyebrow quirked.

“I kind of stopped after the first sentence.” Bobbi pulled Mack’s coat on, stomach flipping. Full scholarship. Somehow that was even bigger and scarier than accepted.

Elena smiled. “Of course. Either way, congratulations.”

“Thanks.” Bobbi shoved her hands into the coat pockets. “For everything.”

Mack didn’t offer to wait with her, which Bobbi was grateful for. She needed some time to plan her apology.

Her mind was still blank when Phil’s car pulled into the driveway behind hers, and Bobbi cursed as tears once again threatened. She didn’t want to cry about this any more, but it was hard when she was feeling so much.

She walked down the driveway to meet them, stopping a respectful distance away.

“We need to talk,” Phil said immediately.

Bobbi ducked her head. She had prepared for The Talk — the same talk she’d been preparing for for a long time. The you’re leaving talk. This time there was no way out of it.

“Phil, you’re scaring her,” Melinda said. “Baby, come here.”

Bobbi did as she was told, shuffling over to Melinda.

“Daisy told us what happened,” she said gently. “We’re not mad at you.”

“If she told you what happened you should be mad at me,” Bobbi sniffled. “I yelled at her.”

“And she yelled at you. As sisters do sometimes.”

“But I —”

“She told me what you said,” Melinda cut in, “and we’ll talk about it. But there’s some other things we want to talk to you about first. Why don’t we go for a walk?”

Bobbi had the feeling it wasn’t as much of a suggestion as Melinda was making it out to be, so she fell into step behind her foster parents as they walked down the street.

Mack’s house was out of sight when Melinda spoke again. “Daisy also said you’d gotten your OSU letter. Congratulations.”

“Thanks,” Bobbi mumbled. Accepting the congratulations felt wrong when they were walking towards a serious conversation that demanded all of her attention.

“We were hoping to have this conversation before you got your acceptance letter,” Melinda continued, “to avoid a situation like this from happening.”

Bobbi blinked. They had wanted to get rid of her before she got accepted. But that didn’t make sense, because the hospital —

Oh. The hospital had delayed the inevitable. But why then had Phil and Melinda allowed her to call them her parents, if they were already planning on kicking her out?

“Bobbi, we love you. You are one of the most brilliant and kind young women we have ever had the pleasure of knowing, and caring for you these last six months has brought us so much joy.” Melinda stopped, turning around to face Bobbi. But it’s over now, Bobbi filled in mentally as Phil also turned to face her.

That was not what Melinda said next.

“We’ve told you before we believe in showing you we love you instead of just telling you, but looking back it’s clear there was a way we could’ve shown our love that we avoided because we didn’t think you wanted it. And we’re sorry for making that assumption, and for being unclear any time we broached the subject, because it’s caused you a lot of unnecessary pain. We hope eventually you’ll be able to forgive us for that oversight.” Melinda cleared her throat. “We love you, and we will love you forever. When we say that, we mean that we want you to be our daughter forever.”

Bobbi’s breath hitched in her throat. She couldn’t mean —

“Bobbi, we’d like to adopt you.”

“What?” she asked hoarsely.

“We’ve had a date set since December. Mr. Gonzales is ready to strangle us both with the number of times we’ve pushed it back. Keeps giving us piles of paperwork to punish us,” Melinda explained. “We thought when Phil tried to talk to you about it and you deflected that meant you weren’t interested, but we kept the date just in case you changed your mind.”

“When… when Phil tried to talk to me about it?”

“We went to the pub together,” Phil said. “I told you you’d be our child as long as you wanted to be.”

“I thought you meant figuratively,” Bobbi sniffled. “I thought — I thought you never asked because you didn’t want me.”

“Oh, my baby.” Melinda drew her into a hug and Bobbi sank into her mother’s embrace.

Her mother’s.

“Of course we want you,” Melinda said, stroking a hand through Bobbi’s hair. “You’ve been ours since the moment we saw you.”

“How could you know that?” Bobbi whispered. She’d had no idea that September afternoon the house she was walking into would become her home, or the people she was meeting would become her family.

“Sometimes, you just know,” Melinda answered. “You walked into the room and something inside me said that’s my baby.”

“I’m your baby,” Bobbi said, burying her face in Melinda’s hair. Reading her acceptance letter had felt unreal, but this… this was the realest thing Bobbi had ever known. It was a shock, but also not — just a confirmation of everything her heart had known for the longest time.

“My baby girl,” Melinda agreed, squeezing Bobbi tight. “And you’ll always be my baby.”

“Always?” Maybe it was just Melinda’s pet name, but Bobbi felt like a child as she clung to her mother, her fingers curling in the fabric of Melinda’s winter coat and her cheek pressed to Melinda’s shoulder. Melinda’s perfume and shampoo surrounded her, the comfort of the familiar scent as palpable as her mother’s arms around her shoulders.

“Always,” Melinda repeated.

“Are — are you sure?” Bobbi snuffled.

“Of course we are. We wouldn’t have asked otherwise,” Melinda said. “Are you sure?”

“Yes,” Bobbi half-said, half-sobbed. After all the heartbreak wanting to be adopted had caused her, she couldn’t imagine not being sure. This was everything she wanted. “Yes, I want you to adopt me. Please.”

“Good,” Melinda murmured, gently rocking back and forth. “We’re going to adopt you, baby. It’s okay. You don’t have to cry.”

“Happy tears,” Bobbi burbled. “I — I’m so happy.”

“We are too, kiddo.” Phil joined in the hug, adding to the feeling of safety and security already threatening to overwhelm Bobbi.

Standing there in the middle of the sidewalk with her parents’ arms around her, Bobbi couldn’t help but be grateful the universe hadn’t granted her wish to fast forward all the way to June. If she had done that, she would’ve missed this moment —

The happiest moment of her life.

Chapter Text

Daisy sat on the porch, her head in her hands, when the cars pulled into the driveway. Bobbi’s breath hitched in her throat; she thought she’d have more time to think of an apology, and she owed Daisy a good one.

Bobbi climbed out of the passenger seat — Melinda had driven her car for her while Phil took the other — but didn’t even have time to take another deep breath before she had an armful of Daisy.

“I’m so sorry,” her sister choked out. “I’m so, so sorry.”

Bobbi didn’t fight the tears overwhelming her. “I’m sorry, too. I never should’ve said —” Bobbi swallowed hard, not finding the power to repeat the awful words. “I never should’ve said any of it.”

“You’re right, though. I do have abandonment issues,” Daisy said into Bobbi’s shoulder. “And I —” Daisy cut herself off with another half-sob, “I didn’t want you to leave me.”

“Even if it’s true that doesn’t mean I should’ve said it,” Bobbi whispered, pulling Daisy even closer. Just because it was true didn’t mean that Daisy deserved to have her issues thrown in her face in the middle of an argument. Bobbi certainly wouldn’t have wanted her own abandonment shit brought up, even if it was just as relevant to what they had been arguing about. “I don’t want to leave you, Daisy. I just didn’t know if you wanted me to stay.”

“Of course I wanted you to stay,” Daisy whispered.

“I wasn’t sure, when you were so mad about me asking about Daniel…” Bobbi said. “I didn’t know what I’d done wrong.”

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Daisy assured her. “Daniel just… he asked me about you and he was trying to be sweet, he really was, since you were just in the hospital and everything, but it just reminded me you were leaving and I thought maybe it would be easier if I could hate you.”

Bobbi would be lying if she said that didn’t hurt, but she nodded nonetheless, her chin bumping into Daisy’s shoulder. She had done the same thing, trying to shove a wedge between herself and her foster family before she’d given into loving them. It was easier to lose someone you hated, or even someone you didn’t care about, than someone you loved. It wasn’t like Daisy’s fear that Bobbi would leave was irrational, either, since up until that day it had been Bobbi’s plan to move out the moment she turned eighteen.

“I shouldn’t have done it,” Daisy reiterated. “It just sucked for both of us and it probably sucked for everyone else, too. And it didn’t really work, either, because when I was being angry at you I just kept thinking about how much I wanted to talk to you about everything and how you would make it better.”

“I wanted to talk to you, too,” Bobbi said, “but I didn’t know how.”

“I’m sorry,” Daisy repeated. “I called you self-centered but then I made you getting into college all about me and it’s okay if you never ever forgive me for that.”

“I forgive you,” Bobbi said immediately. It wasn’t a question in her mind that she would forgive Daisy, not when she had said so much worse. “I thought you were never going to forgive me.”

“Of course I forgive you,” Daisy said. “You’re my sister.”

“Yeah.” Bobbi stepped back from Daisy, wiping her eyes. “Um. I’m going to be your sister forever.”

Daisy took a moment to process what Bobbi had said, but as soon as she did she pulled Bobbi into another, tighter hug. “You’re getting adopted?”

“Yeah,” Bobbi sniffled, a fresh wave of tears falling down her cheeks. “I’m getting adopted. Mom and Dad are having a family meeting tonight to make sure you’re all okay with it and stuff but —”

“If anyone else is not okay with it I will personally kick their ass,” Daisy said, squeezing Bobbi close before letting go of her. “Oh my God. You’re getting adopted!”

Bobbi swiped at her eyes. “Kind of trumps getting into college.”

“I — you know I’m happy for you, right?” Daisy asked, taking Bobbi’s hands in hers. “I mean, I’ll still be sad when you leave but I know how hard you worked for this and I don’t want you to be miserable because of me.”

“Of course,” Bobbi said, though the weight lifting off her chest suggested even if she had hoped Daisy was happy for her, she hadn’t actually known until that moment. “We can still talk even when I’m gone. I mean, Hunter and I aren’t going to be at the same school, probably, and…”

Bobbi’s voice faded. Hunter. How was she going to tell him she was getting adopted? She didn’t doubt he would be happy for her — of course he’d be happy for her — but it would change things. Again.

“We’ll figure it out,” Daisy said softly. “And you and Hunter will figure it out, too.”

“I know. It’s just a lot to think about right now.”

“Then don’t think about it,” Daisy suggested. “You can be happy without overthinking it, you know.”

“Sounds fake.” Bobbi wiped at her eyes again.

“Yeah, maybe.” Daisy cracked a smile. “We should probably get inside before Mom and Dad think we’ve killed each other.”

“They wouldn’t think that,” Bobbi said. The hugging and crying was more of a reconciliation thing than a fight thing.

“Probably not. But I’m getting cold,” Daisy laughed.

Bobbi followed Daisy up to the porch, stopping at the front step. “Dais?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m glad you’re going to be my sister forever.”

Daisy sniffled. “Me too, Bobbi. Me too.”

---

Everyone crowded around the kitchen table, Fitz and Kora perched on the folding chairs they’d last brought out for Thanksgiving dinner. Trip had even made the drive out to his parents’, and Bobbi wondered what Phil and Melinda had told him to get him to drop everything on such short notice, and on a weeknight, no less.

“Thank you everyone for being here,” Phil began, as if any of them had a choice in being there in the first place. Bobbi’s leg began to shake as nerves got the better of her, but Melinda’s hand on her knee stopped the jitters quickly. “We’ve asked you all here today because we’re going to be making a big change to our family, and we want to make sure you all are aware of what’s happening and have the space to ask any questions you may have. Sound good?”

Everyone nodded. Bobbi didn’t know why Phil was keeping them in suspense when it looked like everyone had already guessed what the big change was, but sometimes her dad had the flair for the dramatic.

“Bobbi is going to be joining our family permanently.”

“About damn time!” Bobbi hadn’t expected Trip to be the first to speak, and she let out a startled laugh at his outburst. He got up from his seat and swept Bobbi into a tight hug. She let it happen, both because she was too stunned to stop him and because she enjoyed being hugged on a whim by her family. Trip’s acceptance had been the one she was least sure of, which only made the hug sweeter.

“Be careful!” Melinda warned when Mack wrapped his arms around both Bobbi and Trip and lifted them into the air. “Honestly, Mack, you know she just had surgery —”

“I’m fine, Mom,” Bobbi said at the same time Trip insisted, “She’s fine, Mama.” They looked at each other and laughed before redoubling their hugging efforts.

“Well, when’s it happening?” Fitz asked as Daisy and Kora came to join the group hug.

“Our court date is scheduled for early May,” Melinda said. “We would’ve done sooner but Robert would’ve killed your father and me if we tried to change it again.”

“May is great,” Bobbi promised, because her mother had fretted over it on their car ride back from Mack’s. She didn’t want Bobbi thinking the delay meant anything about how much they wanted her, and while the thought honestly hadn’t occurred to Bobbi, it was nice to have the reassurance anyways.

Sometimes I just want to hear it, Bobbi thought, smiling at her mother over Kora’s head.

“What does this actually change?” Daisy asked.

“Spring break plans, for one thing,” Melinda said. “Since Bobbi is going to be a part of our family the county agreed it would be detrimental to everyone involved if she wasn’t permitted to go on vacation with us.”

“So where are we going?” Kora asked, releasing Bobbi. Everyone else migrated back to their seats to listen to the rest of what Phil and Melinda had to say.

“We’re going to be seeing Wàipó,” Melinda said.

Bobbi blinked. “Where?”

“To my mother’s house in D.C.,” Melinda clarified. “Wàipó is Mandarin for grandmother. She prefers it over Grandma.”

“Wàipó is trying to get us all to learn Mandarin,” Kora said glumly. “I’m not very good at it.”

“Maybe you can teach me some of what you know later,” Bobbi suggested. “Then we both get practice.” Bobbi was glad she was hearing about the language requirement now and not when she got to her grandmother’s house. Bobbi rolled the word around in her head. Grandmother felt so different from nana, thought that might’ve been because Bobbi was having a hard time attaching an intimate word to someone she’d never met before.

“We’ll talk more about vacation once Mack and Trip are gone,” Melinda said, “but do you all have any other questions about Bobbi’s adoption?”

Bobbi’s leg jittered again. She didn’t expect any of her siblings to be upset she was getting adopted, but it was a big change that could bring out big emotions. Melinda’s hand returned to her knee, steadying her.

“Is there anything we need to do?” Daisy asked.

“Your father and I will be handling everything, but if you’d like to help I’m sure we can find something for you.”

“Are we allowed to tell people?” Kora piped up.

Melinda looked to Bobbi.

“If you could wait a little bit, that would be great. I want to tell Hunter in person and we’re not seeing each other until the weekend.” The last thing Bobbi wanted was for Hunter to hear she was getting adopted from someone else. “You can tell Elena, though,” Bobbi offered to Mack. Her eyes flicked to Trip, and she hoped he knew that went for him and telling Robbie as well.

“She guessed already,” Mack said blandly. “You weren’t exactly subtle earlier.”

Bobbi flushed, but she couldn’t deny that she had been beaming from ear to ear when she’d stopped back inside Mack’s house to return his jacket to him.

“She was excited to hear it, Barbara. We both were.”

Bobbi offered him a smile, blinking back tears. She was crying so much and it would’ve been awful if they weren’t happy tears.

No one had any questions after that, and because it was a weeknight there was still homework to be done and life to get back to. Trip and Mack both departed after another round of hugs, and the rest of Bobbi’s siblings retreated to their rooms, leaving Bobbi alone with her parents.

“Something on your mind, sweetheart?” Melinda asked, picking up on Bobbi’s tension even though the family meeting was over and had gone well.

“I… do I have to go see Wàipó?” Bobbi asked.

Melinda’s brow furrowed. “Is there a reason you don’t want to?”

“What if she doesn’t like me?” Bobbi asked.

“You’d be in good company,” Phil chuckled. “Lian is not my biggest fan.”

“Why?” How could anyone dislike her dad, who was compassionate and goofy and most importantly, desperately in love with her mom?

“My mother thought I was too young to go running off and getting married. She’d always had high hopes of me building my own career and my own life, and in her time when a woman got married a career became substantially harder. She and my father were black sheep because she was the breadwinner,” Melinda explained. “Phil didn’t ask for her permission. Or my father’s for that matter, but she was more upset she hadn’t been asked.”

“She insists I didn’t need to ask for permission, just a blessing.” Phil shrugged. “I knew I wasn’t going to get it, so why bother?”

“I already hadn’t had a great relationship with her before we got married, and we didn’t speak for years after. It wasn’t until we got Mack that we had regular contact again.” Melinda paused. “I’m sure you know by now parents make mistakes. We’ve made more than a few with you.” Bobbi bobbed her head in a nod. “I didn’t want to make a mistake I’d regret by not allowing my children to meet their grandmother, so we visit her every year or so. But she still doesn’t like Phil, and I find it difficult to be close with her knowing that.”

“Do the other kids know?” Bobbi asked, cocking her head. There hadn’t been jubilation at going to see their grandmother, but none of her siblings seemed opposed to it, either.

“It didn’t seem necessary to tell them. But you, my baby, overthink everything.” Melinda stood and pressed a fond kiss to Bobbi’s hair. “If telling you the truth helps keep you from overthinking I’m more than happy to share.”

“I… I actually have another question,” Bobbi said before Phil and Melinda could leave the table.

“Yes?” Melinda asked.

“Is there anything I could do to make you not want me?”

Melinda exhaled gustily, and Bobbi caught the look between her parents even if she couldn’t decipher its meaning.

“If you’ve committed a felony it’s probably better not to tell us until after the statute of limitations expires,” Phil said, stepping in when Melinda struggled for words. “But even then, we would still want you.”

“What if… what if I wasn’t straight?” Bobbi felt ridiculous asking the question when Phil had just brought up felonies, but to some people, having a queer child was worse than having a dead child, so she couldn’t be sure.

Surprise flickered over her parents’ faces, and Bobbi sat in the uncomfortable silence as they both gathered their thoughts.

“Of course we would still want you, Bobbi,” Melinda said after she recovered, still hovering near her seat at the table. “Have we done something that makes you think otherwise?”

Bobbi lifted her shoulder in a half-shrug. “I guess not. But some people are fine with other people being gay but not with their kid being gay. Some people are fine with their kid being gay in theory, but not in reality.” Some people could justify exceptions to any of their rules, and some people couldn’t. She had to ask to know.

“We’re fine with our child being gay, theoretically or otherwise,” Melinda asserted. “All we want is for you to be safe and happy in your relationships, no matter what that looks like.”

“I’m not straight,” Bobbi said, even though it was obvious by now. “I’m bisexual.”

There was another expectant pause. Bobbi guessed her foster parents’ initial questions were going to be about why she was dating Hunter if she was gay, but knowing she was bi made that a non-starter.

“I’m sorry, Bobbi,” Phil said softly. “I feel like we should be saying something differently right now, but I’m not quite sure what.”

Bobbi shrugged again. “You don’t really have to say anything.” She hadn’t expected some grand celebration with her coming out. It didn’t need to be an event. It was only an exchange of information. “I just — I just wanted to tell you, in case it changed your decision.” There would be something bittersweet but also fitting with her luck to be adopted only to be disowned when her parents found out her interest didn’t lay exclusively with the opposite sex.

“It doesn’t,” Melinda insisted fiercely. “You are our child and who you love will never, ever change that.”

“I’m scared, Mom,” Bobbi said, looking at the table to avoid looking at her parents. “I’m scared that you say that now but if I ever were to bring a girl home you wouldn’t look at me the same.”

“I understand why you’re scared,” Melinda said, “but you have to trust us.”

Bobbi swallowed hard. “I do trust you.” More, at least, than she had when she’d first met them.

“Then trust me when I say that the only way you aren’t going to be adopted is if you ask not to be.”

“I’m not going to ask not to be,” Bobbi said immediately. “I want this.” I want you.

“We know,” Phil said. “We’re not afraid, and you shouldn’t be either.”

“It’s easy to say that, but not as easy to feel it,” Bobbi mumbled. She knew she shouldn’t be afraid. She knew it. But she’d known a lot of things before that had turned out not to be true, and…

“We’ll figure it out, sweetheart.” Melinda rounded the back of Bobbi’s chair, leaning down and wrapping Bobbi in a hug. “Promise.”

“Mom?”

“Hmm?”

“I love you.” Bobbi tipped her head back so she could look back at Melinda. “A lot.”

“I love you a lot too, baby. And I’m here if you want to talk more about anything.”

“We’re both here,” Phil corrected.

Bobbi let her head fall back down so she could look at him. “I love you too, Dad.”

“I wasn’t fishing, kiddo, but thank you.” Phil smiled at her, blue eyes soft. “We know this is new.”

“No it’s not,” Bobbi whispered. Maybe her being officially part of the family was new, but other than the paperwork, it wasn’t new at all.

Phil blinked a few times, his eyes suspiciously shiny. “No, it’s not,” he agreed after a moment.

“Come on, Bobbi. You have schoolwork to get to,” Melinda said gently.

Right. School was still a thing. Unless…

“Don’t push it,” Phil said before Bobbi could open her mouth. “Homework, then bed.”

“Yessir.” Bobbi gave him a mock salute before standing up from the table. “I love you.”

“Love you too.”

---

“Alright, then, what’s so important you needed to get here at eight o’clock in the bloody morning?” Hunter grumbled, pulling Bobbi back onto his bed with him.

In hindsight, Bobbi could’ve waited until Hunter texted her that he was up to come over, but she had been too excited. The whole week she’d been vibrating with how much she wanted to tell him. It had taken everything in her not to blurt it out the minute he’d opened the door.

“I’m getting adopted!”

That woke Hunter up. He sat up, nearly headbutting Bobbi in the process, a grin spreading on his face. “Fucking finally!”

“You’re not surprised?” she asked.

“Love, I think you’re the only one who could possibly be surprised by this,” Hunter said fondly, tracing his fingertips over her cheek. “I’ve been waiting for months.”

Bobbi gaped. “You could’ve told me!”

“I was trying to be a reassuring boyfriend, not an argumentative one,” Hunter sputtered. “I already got the shovel talk from Phil, I don’t need him giving me another lecture.”

“My dad tried to shovel talk you?” Bobbi laughed.

“Guess he didn’t get the memo that that ship has sailed,” Hunter answered. “Didn’t think it’d win me any points if I pointed out I’ve been your boyfriend longer than he’s been your dad.”

“Probably not,” Bobbi agreed, fondness for Phil surging in her chest. He’d left a hot pink sticky note on her car keys that morning reminding her to drive safe and it’d nearly made her cry. So had Melinda’s neon blue sticky note in her lunch the day before that had just said I love you! and Daisy’s bright yellow sticky note on her toothbrush counting down the days until her adoption.

“So do I get an invite to the adoption or will I have to crash?” Hunter asked.

“I’m sure you and Vic and Izzy are all invited,” Bobbi said. She made a mental note to double check with her parents, though she couldn’t fathom why they wouldn’t want the people Bobbi loved there.

“Good,” Hunter said. “I’m so happy for you, Bob.”

“I’m happy for me, too,” Bobbi said, leaning in to kiss him. “Though I really, really want it all to be official already.”

“Me too.” Hunter kissed her back gently. “Then you can start sleeping over here again.”

Bobbi barked out a laugh. “Yeah, good luck with that. My mom would not be a fan.” Even if Melinda liked Hunter, sleeping over at a boy’s house without her supervision was so not happening. Sure, Vic and Izzy were there, but they’d always been more laissez-faire when it came to Bobbi and Hunter’s relationship.

“A man can dream, can’t he?”

“Sure he can,” Bobbi said, “as long as he is aware a woman has the ability to crush all his dreams.”

“Harsh, Bob.”

“Just telling you the truth,” she said, pressing her nose to his cheek. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Hunter kissed her ear gently. “Say… do I have to start calling you Bobbi Coulson now?”

Chapter Text

“Careful with that!”

“I’m fine, Phil,” Bobbi snapped as she swung her bag out of the trunk of the minivan they’d rented for their road trip.

Phil raised an eyebrow at her, nonplussed.

“Sorry, Dad,” she mumbled, sitting on the tailgate with a heavy sigh.

“You wanna talk about it?” he asked, taking a seat next to her.

Bobbi shrugged half-heartedly. “It’s probably too late to say I want to go back home, huh?”

“Just a little.” Phil slung an arm over her shoulder. “You still worried Lian isn’t going to like you?”

Bobbi nodded forlornly. She’d spent the entire eight-hour drive to D.C. studying the Mandarin flashcards Melinda had made for her, and she could still barely stumble her way through a hello, let alone understand Kora or Daisy when they spoke to her. She already wasn’t the ideal granddaughter with all the grief she’d put Phil and Melinda through, and now she couldn’t do the one thing Lian asked of her.

“I’m going to get a stamp to put on the back of your hand or something,” Phil said, leaning over to kiss her temple. “What happens with Lian will not change our mind. Nothing will change our mind.”

“Even if it doesn’t —”

“It won’t,” Phil insisted.

“Even if it doesn’t,” Bobbi repeated more insistently, “I don’t want to put Mom in that situation.” It had hurt her just to think that Melinda hadn’t liked Hunter, and that was before Melinda was even her mom. Seeing the people she loved not love each other wouldn’t ever stop hurting.

“Kiddo, your mother’s been in this situation for a long time. And even if she hadn’t been, it’s not your job to protect her. It’s her job to protect you.”

“But…”

“I know you’re still getting used to having someone who takes care of you, but I promise you Mom wouldn’t want you worrying about this for her sake.”

“Hunter takes care of me,” Bobbi whispered, but that wasn’t really the point of what Phil was saying to her.

“He does,” Phil agreed. “But a parent cares differently than a boyfriend does.”

“…I’m sorry I called you Phil.”

“It’s okay, kiddo. You can call me whatever you like whenever you like. But I hope you know I’m still your dad even when you’re mad at me.”

“Yeah,” Bobbi said softly. “I love you.”

“And I love you, kid.” Phil kissed her temple again and Bobbi leaned into his warmth. Her body relaxed as she slumped into her father, but it couldn’t last for long. “We should probably get inside before Mom sends out a search party.”

Bobbi stood, grabbing her suitcase and straightening her shoulders. She began the slow march up the drive to her grandmother’s house, hesitating when she reached the front porch step.

“I promise,” Phil repeated, his hand appearing warm and reassuring between her shoulder blades. Bobbi nodded, more to herself than Phil, before lifting her suitcase up the step and crossing the last few feet into her grandmother’s house.

Everyone else was already bustling around inside, Daisy and Kora setting the table while Fitz carried the bags one by one from the first floor to the second, where the guest bedrooms were.

“Did you get lost on the walk over?” Melinda asked with a smile as Bobbi set her bag down for Fitz to take.

“Just needed help with my bag. Dad got it,” Bobbi lied. She glanced over her shoulder at Phil but he didn’t react whatsoever.

“Maybe if you didn’t bring all your textbooks you wouldn’t need help with your bag,” Daisy teased. “If you’re not careful you’re going to turn into a bigger nerd than Fitz.”

“I need to do homework,” Bobbi defended. “I’m still behind from all my sick time.” That wasn’t exactly true, but Bobbi wasn’t as far ahead as she’d like to be, especially given how busy she was going to be in April with Science Olympiad activities.

“Melinda,” an unfamiliar voice came from the kitchen, “is that my granddaughter?”

Lian strolled out of the kitchen, and the first thing Bobbi noticed was how short she was — Bobbi had at least a foot of height on her, easily. The second was the sharpness in her brown eyes and the overwhelming feeling that, short or not, Lian could easily put Bobbi in her place.

“Yes, Mom, this is Bobbi.” Melinda nudged Bobbi forward and she took a few steps towards her grandmother before thrusting her hand out awkwardly.

“Nice to meet you, ma’am.”

“Ma’am,” Lian scoffed. “Your sisters have told me you’ve already been informed of my name. Try again.”

“Nice to meet you, Wàipó,” Bobbi mumbled, taking her hand back limply and averting her eyes. She’d only spoken all of ten words and she’d already done something wrong.

“Bobbi, why don’t you help Daisy and Kora with the table?”

“We’re almost —”

“Daisy,” Melinda interrupted. “Let your sister help you.”

Melinda and Lian disappeared into the kitchen, but Bobbi could still hear the harsh whispers through the wall.

“We’re almost done,” Daisy repeated once Melinda was out of earshot. “If you want to unpack or help Fitz or something.”

Bobbi ended up helping Fitz carry the last of the bags upstairs, including her own fiendishly heavy one. The family was spread across three guest bedrooms — Bobbi, Daisy, and Kora were sharing the largest guest bedroom, Phil and Melinda the next-largest, and Fitz in the tiny guest room that functioned as an office for most of the year. A half-inflated air mattress sat in the corner of the room she was sharing with Daisy and Kora, and after depositing her things Bobbi sat beside it so she could finish blowing it up.

“Are you okay?” Fitz asked, sitting on the edge of the king-sized bed in the middle of the room.

Bobbi shrugged half-heartedly, fingers flexing around the handle of the air pump. “Dad says what Wàipó thinks doesn’t matter and they’re going to adopt me no matter what, but I still want her to like me.”

“And what makes you think she doesn’t?”

“The first thing she did was correct me!” Bobbi snapped, forcing in a deep breath so she didn’t accidentally break the air pump in her hands. “And I just — I wanted this to be easy but of course it can’t be because it’s me!” Bobbi had hoped all her fears were going to be unfounded and when she walked through the door Wàipó was going to welcome her with open arms, but that hadn’t happened.

“Bobbi?”

“Mom,” Bobbi answered, looking guiltily over her shoulder at her mother standing in the bedroom doorway.

“Fitz, could you give us a moment?”

Fitz nodded, scampering out of the room while Melinda came to sit next to Bobbi on the floor.

“She doesn’t mean to be critical,” Melinda said, pulling Bobbi into her lap. Bobbi felt ridiculous, sitting in her mother’s lap when she was so much larger than Melinda, but she also couldn’t pretend it wasn’t nice to be comforted — to allow herself to be comforted. “She thinks she’s helping by insisting she’s your grandmother. She wants you to know she sees you as hers.”

“I know she does,” Bobbi whispered. “I just hate that I always do the wrong thing.”

“You hush,” Melinda clucked disapprovingly. “You didn’t do anything wrong. I should have prepared you better.”

“We didn’t have much notice,” Bobbi said, hoping it was enough to absolve them both of any blame. She didn’t want her mother blaming herself for something that was an honest failure of communication facilitated mostly by Bobbi’s own sore spots.

“Wàipó finished with dinner if you’re ready to come down,” Melinda said, brushing Bobbi’s hair back from her face. “She made dumplings.”

“How come you never make dumplings?”

“Because I can’t cook anything other than pancakes,” Melinda laughed. “That’s what Dad is for.”

“…Do you think Wàipó would teach me if I asked?” Bobbi asked.

“I think she would love to, baby.” Melinda kissed Bobbi’s forehead. “Let’s go downstairs, okay? You can sit by me and I’ll teach you how to use your chopsticks.”

---

“Hi Hunter!” Daisy said when the FaceTime call connected.

“Hi Hunter!” Kora echoed from Bobbi’s other side.

“Hello, littlest Coulson and middlest Coulson. Hello, girlfriend who I actually called.”

“Hi, teacup,” Bobbi said, eyes soft. “We’re sharing a room while we’re at Wàipó’s so you’re getting the triple threat for the foreseeable future.”

“Kora and I can totally find somewhere else to be if you guys want to talk about mushy stuff or something,” Daisy offered. “Or, you know…”

“Daisy,” Bobbi said, exasperated. “How many times do I have to tell you —”

“Tell her what?” Kora blinked.

“Nothing!” Bobbi and Daisy said in unison.

“That doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“Whoops, is that Mom calling? Come on, Kora, it sounds like Mom’s calling.”

“I don’t hear anything.”

“Well then you need your hearing checked!” Daisy said. “Come on, let’s go.”

Daisy scrambled off the bed, pulling Kora with her. That would last for all of ten seconds before they got downstairs and Kora realized they hadn’t actually been called.

“One day she is going to believe me when I tell her we don’t get up to anything untoward,” Bobbi laughed, turning her focus back to the camera.

“Maybe she and that square are getting up to untoward things of their own and she’s projecting.”

“Please don’t say that about my baby sister,” Bobbi said, wrinkling her nose.

“She’s not a baby, Bob,” Hunter chuckled. “But I will refrain from speculating about her romantic life.” Hunter paused. “How’s your grandma’s?”

“Not bad.” Dinner hadn’t gone horribly, even if Bobbi’s grasp of using chopsticks was rudimentary, at best. The soup dumplings Wàipó had made were worth the struggle, though. “We’re going to the city tomorrow to visit the Smithsonians, and then the day after we might go down to Virginia Beach or up to Ocean City. Mom wants to take me shopping for my prom dress sometime too. There’s a lot of strip malls here.”

“Prom dress, huh?” Hunter asked, wiggling his eyebrows. “So are you actually going to ask me soon, then?”

“Here I thought you would be the one asking me.” Bobbi drew her knees up to her chest and propped her chin on top of them.

“That doesn’t sound very feminist of you, Bob.”

“If you want me to ask you then I will ask you,” Bobbi said. “But if I ask you to prom you get to ask the next big life-changing question.”

“No offense, love, but I don’t consider prom a significant life event. Not like getting married or whatever.”

“I will keep that in mind,” Bobbi laughed. Kora poked her head into the bedroom and Bobbi beckoned her forward. “Daisy and Kora are back so I gotta go, Hunter. Remember not to get into too much trouble.”

“No promises.”

“Love you, idiot.”

“Just for that I’m not saying I love you back.”

“Hunter!”

“Fine, fine. Love you too, Bob. Cuddle Amadeus for me.”

“Of course. Bye Hunter.”

“Bye, Bob.”

“Who’s Amadeus?” Kora asked, jumping back onto the bed beside Bobbi.

“The deer stuffed animal Hunter gave me,” Bobbi answered, cheeks pinkening. “His legal name is Amadeus Ravenclaw Hunter III. But we call him Amadeus.” Amadeus was the only one of her stuffed animals Bobbi had brought with her on the trip. She hadn’t wanted to bring Pàng in case Wàipó saw him and started asking questions. Leaving him alone hadn’t been an option, either, so Bobbi left Birdie behind to keep him company. It had meant a lot to Hunter that she took Amadeus along on her trip, so Bobbi felt secure in her decision even if it did feel a little strange not to have Birdie with her.

“When you and Hunter have kids you are not allowed to name them without my input,” Daisy declared, snuggling into Bobbi’s other side. “Amadeus Ravenclaw? Seriously?”

“Don’t be mean to him!”

“Sorry, can Amadeus hear me?” Daisy cackled.

“He can!” Bobbi clambered off the bed, kicking open her suitcase and fishing Amadeus from where he was resting on top of her pajamas. She held him up to her sister, Amadeus’s head flopping forward from the weight of his antlers. “He’s hurt, Daisy. Hurt.”

“Who’s hurt?” Melinda asked, leaning against the door frame.

“Bobbi’s stuffed animal,” Daisy snorted. “No one important, Mom.”

Bobbi made an affronted noise, pulling Amadeus close to her chest. “He’s important to me!”

“I know,” Daisy sighed. “I’ll stop, promise.”

“Hmmph.” Bobbi sat down on the air mattress, wincing when it immediately began to deflate.

“Does Bobbi really have to sleep on the air mattress?” Kora asked. “There’s plenty of room on the bed for all of us.”

“Yes, she does,” Melinda sighed. “I don’t like it either, girls, but I don’t want there to be any reason the state might deny our adoption application. We do things by the book for the next month and a half, okay?”

“They won’t do that, will they?” Bobbi asked, heart rate already picking up.

“Of course not, baby. You’re okay.” Melinda smiled at her and Bobbi forced herself to calm down, clutching Amadeus tight against her chest.

“I still think it’s stupid,” Daisy muttered.

“And I agree,” Melinda reiterated. “We’re getting an early start tomorrow. Be ready.”

---

“Bobbi?” Daisy whispered

“Wha?” she asked, blinking up at the ceiling. She had been just about to fall asleep.

“C’mere.”

Bobbi rolled off the half-deflated air mattress and scrambled to her feet, Amadeus still tucked under her arm. “Whassa matter?”

“I had a nightmare.”

It was a lie. Bobbi knew it was a lie, because Daisy’s voice was clear and steady, her breathing slow and unbothered.

She also knew an invitation when she heard one.

Bobbi climbed over Kora, still fast asleep, to slot herself into Daisy’s side. There was enough room in the bed for the three of them to fit comfortably even without Daisy and Bobbi being as close as they were, but if they were going to sell this story in the morning they needed to be at least a little close.

“What the state of Ohio doesn’t know won’t hurt them, right?” Daisy asked under her breath.

“Hopefully not,” Bobbi answered, nerves climbing up her spine regardless. Was a good night’s sleep really worth putting her adoption into jeopardy?

“I won’t tell if you don’t,” Daisy said as if reading Bobbi’s mind.

“Deal.”

---

“Do we really need this many options?” Bobbi asked dubiously.

“It’s your prom dress. This is not enough options,” Daisy said, barely visible beneath the mound of fabric in her arms. Bobbi had told her she could pick out as many dresses as she wanted for Bobbi to try on, and Daisy had taken that quite seriously. So had Kora, which meant Bobbi was going to be spending at least an hour as a life-sized Barbie doll for her younger sisters ostensibly so she could find a prom dress she actually wanted to wear.

“Remember you can veto as many as you want,” Melinda said as they headed back to the dressing room.

“And your mother can veto as many as she wants,” Lian added.

“Mom. I am not going to veto any of Bobbi’s dresses. She’s seventeen, she can wear what she wants.”

“Don’t worry, Wàipó, I won’t wear anything scandalous.” Even if Melinda wouldn’t veto any dresses, the school might, and Bobbi didn’t want to be in that position.

“We’d better get started,” Melinda said, helping Daisy and Kora heave all their choices onto the hangers. “Three piles: want to try on, maybe try on, and absolutely not.”

Bobbi started by putting an absolutely monstrous bubblegum pink ball gown Kora picked out into the absolutely not category. She loved her sister, she did, but not enough to put that on.

The rest of the sorting went relatively quickly, but left Bobbi with a larger pile of dresses to try on than she really wanted. It had been so much easier when she’d been picking out a homecoming dress and only really had eyes for one of them.

Thus began the slowest slog of Bobbi’s life as she put on a dress, walked out to get the comments from her sisters, mother, and grandmother, and went back into the dressing room to find the next dress to put on. Maybe her hopes were too high, maybe she was overwhelmed, maybe none of the dresses were for her — in any case, Bobbi felt utterly apathetic.

Up until she put on a midnight blue dress Daisy had picked out.

Then? Then Bobbi felt disgust.

The dress’s rich color brought out her eyes and the fabric clung to her body in all the right ways. It would’ve looked beautiful on anyone else. It would’ve looked beautiful on Bobbi, three months ago. But now, the dress’s cutouts swooping along her sides and down to her hipbones showed off Bobbi’s stomach, and more specifically, the jagged pink line of her appendectomy scar.

She hadn’t thought about the scar since she’d gotten her stitches out. When she showered Bobbi avoided looking at it, only paying attention to the area long enough to make sure it got clean, and beyond that there was no reason to look at the scar.

There was no reason to look at it, because she hated it. She hated remembering that night, how sick and alone and scared she had been, how desperate she had been for a love she didn’t realize she already had. She hated remembering the reek of the antiseptic and the stark white walls and the endless, annoying beeping. She hated everything about the scar except for that its existence meant she was still alive. But even then, she could’ve had laparoscopic surgery, if they’d gotten to the hospital soon enough and the doctors hadn’t been worried about her appendix bursting. Then she’d barely have a scar at all, and everything would be fine.

Bobbi ran her thumb along the scar, to the right of and slightly beneath her belly button. She shuddered at the utter lack of sensation on the scar line and how odd it felt under her fingertips. The wound was still healing but it already had the oddly smooth quality of old scars, which only added to Bobbi’s revulsion.

She turned away from the mirror so she wouldn’t have to look at it for a moment longer, hands shaking as she tried and failed to get the zipper back down.

“Mom?” Bobbi called, fighting against unexpected tears. “Can you help me get this one off?”

The dressing room door opened, but it wasn’t her mother that slipped in.

“Your mother had to use the restroom,” Lian said gently. “You need help?”

“Yes, please,” Bobbi said, voice wobbling.

“What’s the matter, wǒ de qiǎo?” Lian asked as her nimble fingers found the zipper and began working it down Bobbi’s back. “The dress is beautiful.”

“The dress is fine,” Bobbi sniffed, rubbing at her eyes.

“And yet you are crying.”

“I hadn’t seen my surgery scar before now,” Bobbi said, holding the dress up to her chest now that the zipper was loose enough to let the clothing ship down her shoulders. “I don’t like it.”

“What do you not like?” Lian asked, voice devoid of judgment.

“Any of it.” Bobbi sniffed again, trying to keep herself quiet so Kora and Daisy wouldn’t hear from where they were on the other side of the dressing room door. “It’s ugly and it reminds me of ugly memories and I just — don’t like it.”

“I see,” Lian said in a way eerily reminiscent of her daughter. “May I see?”

Bobbi turned around slowly, hyperaware of her red eyes and nearly-bare stomach.

“What do you think makes a scar ugly?” Lian asked.

Bobbi shrugged. “I don’t know. It just… gets in the way.”

“In the way of what?”

“I don’t know!” Bobbi repeated, agitated. She knew the scar wasn’t that big and not in that noticeable of a place, either. Logically, it didn’t make sense to be upset about the scar.

“I don’t think it is ugly,” Lian said, unbothered by Bobbi’s irritation. “I don’t think you really believe it is ugly, either.”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“If Daisy had this scar, would you call it ugly?”

“Of course not,” Bobbi said automatically. Nothing about Daisy could ever be ugly.

“Do you think she would call this scar ugly, looking at you?”

“Probably not,” she mumbled.

“Would you like to ask her?”

“Not really.”

“Why is that?”

“Because I’m her older sister,” Bobbi said. “I have to be the one to have everything together.” Daisy and Kora depended on her, and how could they depend on her when they knew she was bothered by something as trivial as a scar? How could they trust her judgment when it was obviously warped by her own self-loathing?

“Because you are her older sister, you need to show her it is okay to feel doubt sometimes,” Lian answered smoothly. “And because you are her older sister, she will want to comfort you in ways I cannot.”

Bobbi hesitated.

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to, qiǎo.”

“But you think I should.”

Lian nodded.

“…Send them in, I guess.”

Lian shuffled out and a moment later Kora and Daisy both crowded into the dressing room, leaving Bobbi feeling absolutely ridiculous as she continued clutching the dress to her chest.

“Is everything okay?” Daisy asked.

“I. Um. Really don’t like this dress.”

“That’s okay, you can just —”

“I mean I like it, but not on me,” Bobbi interrupted, taking a deep breath. “Because I really, really don’t like this scar.” She pointed to it for dramatic emphasis, though there wasn’t any other scar she could be talking about.

“Then you don’t have to wear it,” Daisy said.

“I think it looks great on you,” Kora offered.

“But you deserve to wear something that makes you feel good. And if it doesn’t make you feel good, you should wear something else.”

“I know,” Bobbi sighed. “I wish I could wear this one, though.”

“Maybe you can get two?” Kora suggested. “Get this one and a different one.”

“I’m not going to make Mom pay for two prom dresses.” They were already stupid expensive.

“You can use my allowance money!”

“Kora,” Bobbi sighed, pulling her sister into a hug. “You don’t have to do that. I’ll just get a different dress.”

“Maybe one I picked out?” Kora hedged.

“Ah, so you’re saying this is Daisy’s fault?” Bobbi teased.

“Well, I didn’t say it…”

“I love you, kid,” Bobbi sighed into Kora’s hair. “So much.”

“I love you too, Bobbi,” Kora said. “Now come on or we’re going to be here forever.”

“Yes ma’am,” Bobbi laughed.

“For the record, I also love Bobbi,” Daisy said before ducking out of the dressing room. “So. There.”

“Message received, Dais,” Bobbi said. She waited for the door to close behind them before dropping the dress all the way to the floor and picking the next one off the hanger. She gave one last forlorn look to the pile of fabric before pushing it out of her brain.

No use wishing for what might’ve been.

Chapter Text

“Do you think I should change my name?” Bobbi asked, humming as she minced garlic in Mack and Elena’s kitchen.

“Do you want to change your name?” Mack asked. He and Elena had both been relegated to the table after attempting to backseat cook, but Bobbi could talk to them when she stood at the counter.

“I don’t know,” Bobbi said. “Hunter made a joke about calling me Bobbi Coulson and I don’t hate it. But I also don’t love it.” She had been Bobbi Morse her whole life and she wasn’t sure she wanted to give it up, even for her new family.

“I made Coulson my middle name,” Mack offered. “Alphonso Ricardo Coulson Mackenzie.”

“Barbara Ann Coulson Morse,” Bobbi hummed. “I also don’t hate that.”

“Do you love it?” Elena asked.

“I don’t know,” Bobbi answered honestly. “I think it’s always going to sound a little bit weird, so it’s hard to love anything.” She paused, considering, before deciding that she could be honest with Mack and Elena. “And I still haven’t decided if I’m going to change my name when Hunter and I get married, so that complicates things.”

“Oh, yeah,” Mack said, acting as if it was the most normal thing to consider. “My name’s even longer now that I added Rodriguez.”

“Barbara Ann Coulson Morse Hartley just sounds like a lot.”

“So does Alphonso Ricardo Coulson Rodriguez Mackenzie, but we make do.”

“Your initials would be bacmh,” Elena said. “That’s not bad. Not like arcrm.”

“I… didn’t even think about that,” Bobbi laughed, scraping the garlic into the bowl and beginning to cut a red cabbage.

“You have to consider initials,” Elena said sagely. “Any names starting with A are vetoed for the little one, because we’re not letting their initials be arm.”

“Why not?” Bobbi asked. “It’s not like arm is a bad word.”

“We’re not taking any chances with the name,” Mack said wearily. “Take it from someone who grew up with the name Alphonso, kids are mean.”

“I like Alphonso,” Bobbi defended. “Also, if Mom and Dad asked, I begged you to tell me the baby’s name and you held firm.”

“They’re still on that?”

“Dad is really hoping for a Phil the second, I think,” Bobbi chuckled. “Or Pippa, if it’s a girl.”

“Why don’t you care about the baby’s name?” Elena asked, leaning back in her chair. “Everyone else has asked at least once.”

Bobbi shrugged as she finished chopping the cabbage, momentarily distracting herself by measuring out the soy sauce she needed to add to the mixture. “They’re still my nibling no matter what their name is. And if it’s an awful name, I get to be the cool aunt who commiserates about how shitty parents are at naming things.”

“Real vote of confidence there, Barbara.”

“It is not my job to inspire confidence,” Bobbi said. “Can I trust you to help fill the dumplings or will you start trying to take over again?”

“I can be good,” Mack said.

“Me too —”

“Nuh uh,” Bobbi said. “I am cooking dinner to give you a break. Mack does not deserve a break.”

“You’re still a little shit,” Mack said, shoulder-checking Bobbi gently. “I thought Wàipó would’ve trained that out of you.”

“You like it, Turtle Man,” Elena said before Bobbi could make a snide retort. “You should be thanking your sister or she won’t cook for us again.”

“She knows I appreciate her,” Mack grumbled. “Right, Bobbi?”

“Ah ah. Thank your sister.”

“Thanks, Barbara.” Mack wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her briefly into his side. “You know I love you coming over, right?”

“Of course,” Bobbi said. “Besides, it’s the least I can do since I kind of killed family weekends.”

“You did no such thing,” Elena clucked. “The way we see your family changes, but you didn’t kill anything. You started something new.”

“You’re really on a kick lately, huh?” Bobbi asked. “No negative vibes?”

“Negativity is permitted and healthy. But we’ve both been thinking that how we talk about ourselves and the world is how we’ll teach the baby to talk about themself and the world, and we want to start forming healthy habits early on.”

“Oh.” Bobbi paused, filling the dumpling in front of her. “Can I still come over, or —”

“Do not even finish that sentence,” Elena said, voice cold fire. “You are still learning to love yourself after being hurt by people in your life. You are not and will not be a bad influence on our child. Do not suggest otherwise.”

“Yes ma’am.” Bobbi said, ducking her head. Mama Elena would take some getting used to, but her sister’s fiercely maternal energy reminded Bobbi of her own mother in the best way.

“You’re getting much better, Bobbi,” Mack said encouragingly. “You might not see it but the rest of us do.”

“I guess I see more of how far I have left to go and now how far I’ve come,” Bobbi sighed, beginning to fill another dumpling. “I’m going to be in therapy for like, forever.” She mentally added that to the list of things she needed to figure out when she was at college. OSU was too far away to make seeing Dr. Garner every week feasible, and she wasn’t sure how switching over to a new therapist would even work.

“If that’s what you need, that’s what you need,” Mack said steadily. “It’s not a bad thing to ask for help.”

“So you have told me,” Bobbi said. “I don’t know. It just feels like now that I’m going to be adopted and things are going my way I shouldn’t need it anymore, you know?”

“Being adopted doesn’t change everything bad that happened to you before,” Mack said. “If anything you need therapy more now, because it’s going to bring up a lot of confusing questions about who you are now. Like if you should change your name.”

“I am not paying you guys enough to be my therapists,” Bobbi laughed.

“I don’t know, Wàipó’s dumplings are worth an awful lot…”

“Once the baby comes I wouldn’t mind coming over here to cook more often,” Bobbi offered hesitantly. “I mean. I like cooking and I like spending time with you, but if it would be too much of a hassle…” She didn’t want to invite herself over when having a new baby was sure to be stressful without adding an annoying little sister to the mix.

“We would love to have you make dinner for us, Bobbi,” Elena said. “Though you may have to contend with us being not at all good conversationalists.”

“I can do that,” Bobbi said. “I just… it still hasn’t hit me yet that I’m not going to be here in the fall. I’m going to miss so much of the baby growing up because I’m going to be at school, and —”

“And they won’t remember most of the time you’re gone, anyway,” Elena soothed. “You’re going to college, not dying. You’ll be here for breaks and for the summer. You’ll have plenty of time.”

“You’re right,” Bobbi said. “I don’t know. It’s… I feel like I’m overreacting for being so upset about leaving when it’s my choice and I know going to college is what I want to do. But I’m still going to miss home, and I’m going to miss you.” Mack and Elena had become a larger part of her life than Bobbi had ever anticipated them being — once she had let them in, they had always been her safe place, even when she wasn’t sure where she stood with the rest of her family. Even the thought of leaving them behind felt like letting go of her safety net.

“You’re not overreacting,” Mack said. “And it’s good that you’re talking about this. We want to talk with you about how you’re feeling.”

“Once you get settled into school we can see about scheduling calls or visits, or whatever else you want to do to keep in touch,” Elena said. “We can even write you more sticky notes if you want.”

If her hands hadn’t been covered in raw pork, Bobbi would’ve buried her face in them. The sticky notes should have been embarrassing, but Bobbi was more embarrassed about how much they meant to her than anything. The scheme extended far past her parents and Daisy now — Fitz and Kora had each picked out a color, and Mack and Elena shared sticky notes, trusting their very different handwritings to distinguish the two of them. There had been a sticky note tacked on the front door telling her to come in when she’d arrived at Mack and Elena’s house. Even if the message had just been to let her know the door was unlocked and she could walk right in, Bobbi couldn’t describe the feeling of being able to walk through the door and know she belonged there.

“I love you so much,” Bobbi said, staring down at the dumpling wrappers. Sometimes she felt like she was overusing the words, like she would somehow run out of love, but most of the time Bobbi just thought of all the I love yous she hadn’t been allowed to say since her parents had died, all of the love she’d had that hadn’t had a place to go. It had a place now, and Bobbi wasn’t going to stop herself from putting that love in its place — in the hearts of her friends and family.

“We love you, too, Barbara.” Mack ducked to press a kiss to her head. “And not just because you’re making us dinner.”

---

“Hi,” Bobbi said when Kara set her stuff down at the beginning of Home Ec. “Weird question.”

“Weird answer,” Kara replied, sliding into her seat.

“I’m getting adopted in May and my parents want to throw a party to celebrate after and I was wondering if you maybe wanted to come?” Bobbi asked in a rush. It wasn’t that she didn’t like Kara or didn’t want to invite her to the party — more that Bobbi felt bad for dumping the fact she was getting adopted on the other girl when the last Kara had heard Bobbi’s plan was to turn eighteen and get the hell out of Dodge.

“Congratulations,” Kara sputtered. “I — was this a surprise?”

“Kind of,” Bobbi said. “It, uh, happened before spring break but I needed a little time to process and tell my boyfriend and stuff, so it’s not a recent surprise but… yeah, at the time I was freaking out.”

“And it’s your foster caregivers? Or, they were, I guess. Since they’re your parents now.” Kara said.

“Yeah, they… they said they’ve wanted to adopt me for a while.”

“That’s great.” Kara smiled, something so warm and bright Bobbi wished she could keep it in a jar and pull it out when she was feeling low. “I’d love to come to your party.”

“Awesome,” Bobbi said. “I know we’re not that close or anything, but, uh, talking to you has really helped me feel less weird about… everything.”

“I’m glad that I could help,” Kara replied sincerely. “And even if we aren’t close now, maybe we could be? Someday?”

“I would like that,” Bobbi said, relieved. “I would like that a lot.”

“Here’s my number,” Kara said, pulling a sheet of paper out of her binder and writing it down. “If you don’t mind small children you can come over sometime?”

“That sounds great,” Bobbi said, taking the paper. “And I don’t mind small children. Or at least I hope I don’t.” Now would be an awful time to figure out that babies freaked her out. “I’ll text you later?”

“Yeah,” Kara agreed as class began. “That sounds great.”

---

“Hi, Trip. It’s Bobbi.” Bobbi sat back on her bed, checking for the fifth time that her bedroom door was firmly closed so she wouldn’t be interrupted during her call.

“Hey, girl. You know I have caller ID, right?”

“I know.” Bobbi caught her lip between her teeth. “I just didn’t know if you had my number.”

“Course I do,” Trip said easily. “I was beginning to think you didn’t call ‘cause you didn’t like me.”

“No!” Bobbi insisted. “No, I just… didn’t know if you wanted me to call you.”

“Now why would you think that?” Trip asked.

“Well…” Bobbi began. There were a lot of reasons to think that Trip wouldn’t want to talk to her, but most of them didn’t hold up to serious scrutiny, especially not now.

“That’s what I thought. Now, to what do I owe the pleasure of you finally giving me a call?”

“I came out to Mom and Dad. I thought you should know.”

“They take it okay?”

“Yeah, they were… good.”

“You don’t sound happy about it.”

How could everyone in this family read her like a book? “I guess after all the worrying I did about it I was kind of hoping for something to happen. Not that they’d kick me out or decide not to adopt me or anything, but… something.”

“It was a big thing for you but it wasn’t a big thing for them. I get it,” Trip said. “I bet if you told them they’d be willing to put more energy into it.”

“Is it even worth that?” Bobbi asked. “I mean, I don’t want to push. I am glad that they took it well. It seems selfish to ask for more.”

“It’s not selfish,” Trip said. “If it’s important to you, I know it’ll be important to them.”

“But I don’t even know how to say it. Hey, Mom and Dad, I know I already came out to you but can we do it again, once more with feeling?”

“Maybe try: Hey Mom and Dad, I really appreciate that you’re accepting of my sexuality, but I still have a lot of feelings about the situation I’d like to share with you. Can we talk sometime?”

“Okay, tell me you’re a social worker without telling me you’re a social worker.”

That made Trip laugh, and Bobbi smiled to herself. She liked Trip’s laugh.

“C’mon, girl. Mack tells me you’ve gotten real good at talking about how you’re feeling. Can’t stop now.”

“You and Mack talk about me?”

“After the baby and Elena, you’re his favorite subject,” Trip drawled. “You’re definitely one of Daisy’s, too, and Mom and Dad can never be quiet about any of their kids, so the amount of secondhand Bobbi knowledge I have is terrifying.”

“Uh oh.”

“Good terrifying. I just mean, we can’t ever have a conversation without me seeming like a weirdo ‘cause I know too much.”

“I don’t mind if you know stuff about me,” Bobbi said. “I just wish I got to hear as much about you.”

“Trust me, I’ve got a boring life. You don’t wanna hear about my office job.”

“I’m sure you do more than just go to work,” Bobbi said. At the very least Trip spent time with Robbie and Gabe, which wasn’t nothing. “Speaking of work, though, one of my school friends is interested in majoring in social work, and she was wondering if she could talk to you about what it’s like?”

“Sure, send her my way,” Trip said. “And you’re right. I do more than just work, but it’s still probably pretty boring for a kid like you. I’m not getting ready for college or prom or Science Olympiad.”

“You really do hear about everything, don’t you?” Bobbi asked, tucking her feet beneath her as she adjusted her position on the bed.

“I’ve got eyes everywhere,” Trip agreed. “But I wouldn’t mind hearing more Bobbi information from the woman herself, if she can find the time in her extremely busy schedule to call me.”

“If I had known you wanted to talk I would’ve called sooner,” Bobbi said, voice small. “Sorry.”

“Aw, don’t go getting all melancholy on me, girl. I could’ve called you just as easy.” Trip clicked his tongue. “How bout this. You start calling me on your car rides home from Mack’s place and then I can make sure you get home safe and we can start talking more.”

“Sounds like a deal,” Bobbi said. “Thanks, Trip.”

“No need to thank me for doing the bare minimum. If we’re gonna be siblings we should probably have more than just a couple of conversations under our belt.”

“Probably,” Bobbi agreed. “Though if you get all your information from your spies I don’t know what I’ll have left to tell you.”

“I’m sure you’ll think of something,” Trip said. “If nothing else you can give me new dirt on Mack.”

“I’m not sure I’m supposed to pick sides in sibling fights.”

“Sure you can. As long as it’s my side.”

“Very funny.”

“What can I say? I moonlight as a comedian.”

“Do you really?” It was plausible, with his sense of humor.

“No, but I could.”

“You see, that’s the sort of thing I would know if we talked more,” Bobbi said. “Hey, Trip, I gotta go work on homework, but thanks for answering my call.”

“Any time, girl. Good luck on your homework.”

“I’m not going to need it.”

“Jesus, Daisy wasn’t kidding when she said you’re turning into Fitz 2.0. I’ll take my good luck back if you don’t need it, smartypants.”

“Thanks anyways, Trip. Tell Robbie I say hi.”

“Course. Bye, Bobbi.”

Bobbi ended the call and flopped back onto her bed, staring at the ceiling. Somehow she’d been afraid to talk to Trip, which hadn’t made sense in foresight but made even less sense in hindsight. Now she had something to offer Kara and a standing phone call with her only sibling she didn’t see much of.

Of course, she still had to actually make good on her promise to call Trip, but… one step at a time.

Chapter Text

“DAISY!!! I AM GOING TO KILL YOU!!!”

That did not sound good. Bobbi poked her head out of her bedroom just in time to see Fitz storming down the hall, his face covered in… whipped cream? She blinked to clear the bleariness from her eyes, but by the time Bobbi was sure of what she had seen Fitz was already down the stairs, steam practically blowing from his ears.

Well. Hopefully Mom would keep him from actually murdering Daisy. If not, Bobbi didn’t think she would be allowed to be adopted and live in a house with a convicted felon.

The bright side was that Fitz wasn’t hogging the bathroom, so Bobbi could take an extra-long morning shower without him whining about her hogging the water. She still had to move quickly so she wouldn’t be late for school, but she could luxuriate under the water for a few minutes more than usual.

Bobbi wrapped her hair up in a towel as she got dressed, then pattered down the stairs with her hair still drying. Maybe she had spent a little too much extra time in the shower — but that didn’t matter.

“Did Fitz commit homicide?” Bobbi asked when she found her mother in the kitchen with no brother to be seen.

“I stopped him,” Melinda said serenely. “He was mad at the wrong person.”

“It wasn’t Daisy who got whipped cream all over his face?”

“Technically, Fitz got whipped cream all over his own face,” Melinda said. That wasn’t cryptic at all.

“You know, I’m not going to ask.”

“Ignore the bowl of cereal in the freezer,” Melinda instructed when Bobbi took a step towards the refrigerator.

“Uh, I wasn’t going to open the freezer?” It was breakfast time, and unlike Daisy, Bobbi did not exclusively eat Eggo waffles for breakfast.

“Good. Then you’ll have no problem ignoring the cereal.”

Bobbi once again considered asking her mother what was going on, but decided against it. If there was some sort of family feud happening, she didn’t want to be a part of it — especially not when she was running late.

Melinda finished making her morning tea just as Bobbi sat down with her buttered toast. Melinda took the sugar scooper out, but rather than put her spoonful of sugar in the tea, Melinda swiped her finger through the sugar and stuck it in her mouth, making a face when she did.

“Your father still thinks he can get me with the worst pranks,” Melinda sighed. “Salt and sugar switching. Who does he think I am, an amateur?”

Bobbi slid the salt shaker over to her mother wordlessly, watching with rapt attention when she shook some out into her tea. Melinda took a sip, and —

Made another face. “Apparently, we don’t have any more sugar in this house,” Melinda said through a cough. “Lovely.”

“Bobbi, we’re going to be late!” Daisy said, bounding up the stairs.

“We’re fine,” Bobbi said, furrowing her brow. “We have like, ten whole minutes still.” She had spent extra time in the shower, but not that much extra time.

“You need to eat breakfast, Daisy,” Melinda reminded her as she poured her ruined tea down the sink.

“I’m not eating anything in this house,” Daisy said. “Bobbi, I’ll be waiting in the car.”

“Uh,” Bobbi said as Daisy all but ran out the door. “What’s up with her?”

“She’s afraid.”

“Of?”

“Fitz, I assume.”

“For the whipped cream thing?”

“No, for last year.”

It was too early in the morning to figure out what Melinda meant by that, so Bobbi returned to her toast silently. Fitz clumped his way back down the stairs, looking dour and red where he had scrubbed off the stickiness of the whipped cream.

“She put cream cheese in my deodorant,” he grumbled. “I am going to smell like cream cheese all day and it’s all her fault.”

“You didn’t notice the difference between deodorant and cream cheese?”

“You didn’t notice the difference between shampoo and hair dye,” Fitz pointed out.

“I… what?”

“Oh, you haven’t taken the towel off yet?”

Bobbi couldn’t tell if Fitz was kidding. She hoped he was kidding, because she would’ve noticed if she put hair dye in her hair instead of shampoo… right?

She untied the towel slowly, then lifted a lock of hair to inspect it.

Her hair was green. Lovely.

“Mom,” Bobbi said, forcing herself to speak with a calmness she didn’t feel. “What is going on?”

“It’s the first of April,” Melinda said.

April Fools Day.

Bobbi took a steadying breath. “I am going to leave for school now. Should I worry about my safety in the car with Daisy?”

“Rules are nothing that causes physical harm to anyone,” Melinda said. “So you will be perfectly safe in the car with Daisy.”

“Perfectly physically safe,” Bobbi corrected. Her emotional safety was already in question, because she had to go to school with neon green hair and had no idea how to explain it. Except that her family apparently got way more into April Fool’s Day than anyone rightly should’ve.

“Yes, that.” Melinda gave her a wry smile that had Bobbi practically leaping out of her chair. She did not like the idea of her mother pranking her (Melinda could be scary when she wanted to be), and she absolutely did not trust that smile.

---

“Your hair is green,” Anne said when Bobbi sat down in first period.

“Yes. Yes it is.”

“Was that on purpose?”

“No. No it wasn’t.” Bobbi sighed heavily. “Apparently everyone in my family forgot to tell me they take April Fools Day very, very seriously.” In addition to everything she had witnessed this morning, Bobbi had spent the entire drive to school being honked at mercilessly because Daisy had put a Honk for April Fools! sign on the bumper of the car — which was why she had been so insistent on getting out of the house early. Daisy had also confided in her that she and Melinda had taken a trip to Phil’s office last night to wrap everything in cellophane. (As a side effect of the prank, Bobbi had learned that cellophane was different from plastic wrap and also biodegradable. Daisy and Melinda could prank Phil all day long, but they could not prank Mother Earth.) Bobbi was sure there was even more than that in store, but Daisy hadn’t confided any further and Bobbi knew better than to ask.

“So you need to get your revenge?” Anne asked, a mischievous glint in her eye.

“I mean, I don’t really have time to plan anything, so I figured I’d just wait until next year.” Except she probably wouldn’t even be home for April Fools next year, which was a weird thought.

“You could just come home and burst into tears about how mean they all were to you,” Anne suggested, apparently ignoring that Bobbi didn’t want to prank her family at all. “Doesn’t take any preparation and they’d think really hard about tricking you again, if they thought you were actually upset.”

Bobbi considered it for all of a second before shaking her head. “Kora would cry if she thought she made me cry, and I cannot be responsible for that.” Everyone in her family was still sensitive about Bobbi’s feelings, and while once upon a time Bobbi had resented that, she didn’t anymore. Her family caring about her feelings wasn’t them seeing her as a stranger — it was them seeing her as one of them, and wanting her to be happy. Faking being sad about something that really didn’t bother her would only hurt in the long run, and Bobbi didn’t want to teach her family they couldn’t trust her when she talked about how she was feeling.

“Okay, so you need an actual April Fools prank to get them back with. Preferably one that doesn’t require a lot of materials or time, since you’re low on both.” Anne, bless her heart, had already opened to a fresh page in her notebook that was not intended for schoolwork. Bobbi didn’t protest the thought of pranking her family again; Anne apparently really wanted to see it happen, and it would be kind of funny to get everyone back for not telling her to prepare for what should’ve been a minor holiday. “To start with: do you have access to a hot glue gun, a can of hairspray, or approximately three hundred rubber bands?”

“You’re scaring me, Anne.”

“Oh no. You’re not the one who should be scared,” Anne cackled. (Hearing your best friend cackle for the first time really was something.) “It’s your family that should rue the day they ever crossed Barbara Morse.”

---

“Dad?”

“Hmm?” Phil asked, fishing around for another piece of popcorn in the mostly-empty bowl. They’d long since run out of Star Wars movies to watch, blown through the animated television shows, and were now watching the newest release. Bobbi didn’t think it was as good as the original movies, but one of the side characters did look a startling amount like her mom, which was at least enough to hold her attention.

“Is there anything else you guys forgot to tell me in the welcome to the family packet?” Bobbi asked, voice small. She had gotten her revenge for the April Fools pranks — she’d hairsprayed the ends of the toilet paper rolls down so it was impossible to lift them back up, created fake sticks of gum out of hot glue and flour for her family to gag on, and wrapped Daisy’s laptop charger cord in an obscene amount of rubber bands — but the day had still left her feeling more uneasy than she’d like to admit.

Not telling her about April Fools hadn’t been intentional. They’d probably forgotten they even had to tell her until the morning of when she’d been confused about the whole thing. It hadn’t been intentional, which was exactly why Bobbi was uneasy. What else had she not heard about that would end up being important later on? What if it changed things, important things, about her life with the Coulsons?

When Bobbi had expressed her fears to Dr. Garner at therapy that night he’d not-so-gently urged her to practice her communication skills and express those fears to her parents.

He was right, of course, but Bobbi had struggled to find a way to broach the subject that wasn’t accusatory. She wasn’t angry — she was worried, and she wanted to come off that way when she asked if there was anything else she needed to know.

Phil paused the television, correctly deducing this wasn’t a conversation to have only half paying attention.

“I don’t know.” It was more honest of an answer than Bobbi expected, and an oddly relaxing one at that.

“I — I’m scared again,” Bobbi said, scooting closer to Phil on the couch. He put his arm around her shoulders silently, pulling her closer. “I wish I wasn’t scared all the time.” She hated having doubts about her family, even more when she knew they were irrational.

“How can I help you be less scared?” Phil asked.

“I don’t know,” Bobbi whispered. That was almost as bad as the fear itself — not being able to fix it.

“Are you afraid because you worry you don’t know something important, are you afraid because you think us not telling you things means we don’t love you, or are you afraid for some other reason?” Phil asked patiently.

“I think a little bit of all three,” Bobbi answered after a long pause. “Mostly the first two, but there’s something else that I don’t really know how to describe.”

“Do you want to talk about it, or do you want me to try to fix it?”

“Fix it,” Bobbi said quietly. She had already said everything she could say about how she felt, and she hoped that Phil offering to fix it meant he had an idea of how to make her feel better.

“You still like the sticky notes?” Phil asked.

Bobbi nodded.

“What do you think of us adding facts you don’t know about us to our sticky notes?” Phil asked.

“That sounds like it could work,” Bobbi said. The sticky notes were constant reminders that her foster family did love her and were excited to have her officially join them. She got one just about every day from all her family members, which meant between now and the adoption there were thirty-ish opportunities to learn big, important facts about her family before the adoption date.

“We can try it, and if you’re still scared next week, we can talk again,” Phil suggested. “I’m sorry you’re scared, kiddo. We should’ve told you.”

“It’s okay,” Bobbi said. “A normal kid —”

“Ah ah,” Phil interrupted. “You’re my kid, so you’re a normal kid.”

“I guess part of why I’m scared is because I feel guilty for being scared at all,” Bobbi said. “I know you and Mom know I want this, but it also feels like I’m making up excuses for reasons I can’t be adopted.”

“But you’re not making excuses for why you can’t be adopted,” Phil said. “You’re not asking to call off the adoption. You’re asking for reassurance that you’re wanted and loved. I don’t think your siblings will mind me saying they all did the same thing while we were waiting on their adoptions. It looked a little different for everyone, but they all did it. In some ways you’re the easiest because you’re good at using your words, when you want to be.”

Bobbi made a noncommittal noise in the back of her throat. She still didn’t feel good at using her words, but Phil didn’t have a reason to lie to her.

“Do you want me to tell you something you don’t know about me?” Phil asked, reaching for the remote. Bobbi nodded, eyes slipping closed when her father began running his fingers through her hair.

“My mother’s name was Julie. My father’s name was Robert. You know he’s the one who taught me about cars, and how I taught Mack.”

Bobbi nodded. Mack’s obsession with his motorcycle was like her dad’s teenage obsession with a red Corvette that he’d sold sometime after when Kora was adopted. He said it wasn’t practical to have a car he never drove when there were hungry mouths to feed, but Bobbi thought it was probably also a way of letting his father go and moving on to his new life.

“Well, when Mel and I were still thinking about having biological children, we always said if it was a boy we’d name him Robert. But we’d call him Bobby, so he wouldn’t have the same name as my dad.” Phil paused, and Bobbi considered filling the silence by telling him she had been named Bobbi for her father. It didn’t seem right, though, not when Phil’s eyes were still misty with memory. “For a long time when people asked if Melinda was pregnant they would just ask if we had our Bobby yet.”

Bobbi’s breath caught in her throat. Regardless of her being named after a different Robert, this still felt… different. Special. Almost like fate. “Is that what Mom meant when she said she knew I was yours?”

“No,” Phil said softly. “That was maybe fifteen, twenty years ago at this point. Neither of us actually remembered it until we went to visit Wàipó and she asked.”

His fingers paused in her hair. “Of course, we would love you whatever your name was. But it’s nice to know we have our Bobbi now.”

“Do you and Mom ever wish you got a real Bobby?”

“We have a real Bobbi. She’s right here on the sofa with me,” Phil said, resuming stroking her head. “Life didn’t turn out the way we thought it would, and that’s okay. I can’t imagine how we would’ve ended up with six kids if we’d had them all biologically, but I also can’t imagine a life that would feel complete without all of you in it. Sure, it hurt for a while, but the life we had more than made up for the pain of the past.”

“Do you think you’re done, after me?” Bobbi asked. She was curious no matter the answer, but a small part of her wanted the validation of hearing she was the person who made the family whole.

“I don’t know,” Phil said. “We’re getting older. Putting six kids through college is already a daunting task. And I can only speak for myself, but I don’t feel like I’m missing anything anymore. Our family is like… pieces solving a puzzle. As far as I know, you were the last piece. Our Bobbi.”

“Daisy says if Hunter and I ever have kids we have to run their names by her first,” Bobbi said.

“Have you two already talked about kids, too?” Phil asked.

“A little,” Bobbi hedged. “I mean. You know we want to get married. Knowing where we both stand on kids is kind of important for that.”

“You’re not wrong.” Phil pressed his lips to Bobbi’s temple, holding them there for a moment. “I just forget sometimes. None of your siblings had Hunters built in.” Bobbi certainly hoped not, since there was only one Hunter and he was hers — but she understood the sentiment.

“I could tell you things you don’t know about me, too,” Bobbi offered. “Like stuff I’ve done with Hunter and the Hartleys. And… I don’t know, whatever you want to know.”

“I would like that, kiddo,” Phil said. “Though you might have to settle for telling me in person, unless you’ve managed to find where all the other sticky notes in the house disappeared to.”

“In person is fine for me,” Bobbi said. “And none of it will change your choice?”

“None of it will change if we adopt you,” Phil confirmed. Bobbi wasn’t sure what she could say that could possibly be bigger or more opinion-altering than not being straight, but she still liked hearing it.

“So, what do you want to know?”

“Let’s start with if there are any other major life milestones you and Hunter have planned out together that I need to know about. I’m fine with marriage, I’m fine with babies — in the far far future — but I put my foot down if you’ve already talked about which retirement home you’re sending me and Mom to.”

“Dad!” Bobbi giggled. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Uh huh. Sure. I totally believe that.”

Bobbi laughed again, snuggling further into her father’s side. He was ridiculous, but he was hers —

And she was his Bobbi.

Chapter Text

“Hi Dr. Weaver!” Bobbi chirped, not bothering to wait for Anne’s mother to invite her in before bouncing across the threshold.

“Hello, Bobbi,” Dr. Weaver said, bemused. “How many days left?”

“Twenty-seven!” Bobbi’s stomach flipped. She was constantly aware of the days ticking down until her adoption, but saying it aloud made everything feel more real. Her friends from school had started counting down with her with the excuse they were counting down to her party, and Dr. Weaver had picked it up along the way thanks to the increasing number of Science Olympiad practices held at her home.

“That’s exciting,” Dr. Weaver said. “Doing anything special?”

“Nope,” Bobbi said, popping the p sound. “My mom and dad are trying to find an advent calendar for when we get down to twenty-five, but you know how hard those are to find outside of November and December.”

“I can imagine,” Dr. Weaver laughed. “They’re all downstairs. Study hard.”

“I always do,” Bobbi answered, showing herself downstairs.

Anne was the only one on the sofa, everyone else spread out on the floor with sheaves of paper spread around them like halos.

“Hey, Bobbi,” Anne said distractedly, poking at her laptop with a furrowed brow.

“Hey,” Bobbi said, putting her bag down on an empty patch of carpet. “Whatcha doing?” It didn’t appear Anne was studying practice questions like everyone else.

“Googling,” Anne answered, not offering any more explanation.

“She got an alert that some comic she wants for her collection is available on eBay, but she can’t find it in the eBay search bar,” Donnie offered, looking up from his pad of paper. “So now she’s looking for it on Google to see if she can find it that way.”

“Sounds… fun?” Bobbi hedged, not sure if fun was the word she would choose. At the very least finding the comic book must’ve been important to Anne if she was focusing on that instead of their impending Science Olympiad competition. Anne took Science Olympiad as seriously as she did the rest of her academic endeavors — which was to say, extremely seriously.

“It’s not fun.” Anne gestured Bobbi over to the couch, and Bobbi picked her way through the field of papers, not wanting to step on any or ruin someone else’s work, before plopping down next to her friend.

“I don’t know what I’m doing wrong,” Anne said, exasperated. “I’m using all the right Google search filters and modifiers!”

“Have you tried making intentional typos?” Bobbi suggested. “Maybe whoever posted it made an error when they were doing the listing.”

“I could kiss you!” Anne said, quickly editing whatever was in her search bar.

“I’m taken.”

“Yeah, well so am I.”

“Excuse me?” Bobbi said, pulling Anne’s laptop off her lap. Anne whined, but Bobbi shook her head. “No. No! You don’t get to drop a bomb like that and not follow up.”

“It’s not that big of a deal.”

“Uh, it kind of is,” Callie said from the floor. “You’re supposed to tell your best friend when you get a boyfriend, Weaver.”

“Yeah, Weaver,” Bobbi repeated, acknowledging but not focusing on the pleased feeling in her chest at being referred to as Anne’s best friend. “Who is it? When did this happen? Do I need to give him a shovel talk?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Anne said, reaching for her laptop. Bobbi let her take it back, though not without a hard stare. “I promise.” Anne glared at the group of Science Olympiad students, who were all trying and failing not to look invested in the conversation happening on the sofa.

“If you don’t tell me I’m uninviting you from my adoption party,” Bobbi warned.

“You wouldn’t!” Anne said, scandalized.

“Don’t make me have to,” Bobbi answered. Was it manipulation? Perhaps, but it was for a good cause, so she didn’t think it really counted.

“For what it’s worth, Bobbi, I don’t have a secret boyfriend. You don’t have to uninvite me.”

“Thank you, Callie,” Bobbi sniffed. “Anyone else want to fess up?”

There were low murmurs of dissent before everyone suddenly became interested in their practice problems again. Bobbi watched Anne continue searching for her comic for another minute before deciding her time was better spent not looking over her best friend’s shoulder.

Anne eventually gave up on her comic search and joined everyone else in their discussion of strategy for the next Science Olympiad competition. Bobbi swore she could feel Anne’s eyes on her the whole time, but the feeling grew to the point of discomfort as everyone else began to depart and Bobbi was left alone in the basement with Anne to pack her bag.

“I promise I was going to tell you,” Anne began in a rush. “I just wasn’t really sure how and, well, it all happened extremely fast and it’s probably not even going to last that long but I wanted to try it while I still had the chance.”

“I’m not mad,” Bobbi said as she slid her laptop back into her bag. “Well, maybe I’m mad. How long have you been dating him?”

“That… is a complicated answer.”

“…Okay.”

“Officially, two days,” Anne said when Bobbi looked at her questioningly.

“I can live with two days, so it’s probably better if you don’t tell me how long you’ve unofficially been dating,” Bobbi said. “Unless it’s like, years, in which case yes, I want to know.”

“No, no. It’s just — It’s Tomas.”

Bobbi blinked. “Tomas Calderon? The one you call Toe-Head on a regular basis?”

Anne buried her head in her hands. “I know it’s silly.”

“It’s not silly,” Bobbi said immediately. “Just… not who I would’ve guessed.”

“Who would you have guessed?” Anne peeked out from between her fingers.

“I honestly have no clue. But Tomas would not be at the top of the list.” Bobbi was honestly still having a hard time wrapping her brain around the idea of them dating. “It’s… what, the classic ‘boy and girl pick on each other because they like each other’ thing?”

“Something like that,” Anne agreed. “It’s complicated. And we probably’ll end up breaking up, because everyone breaks up with their high school boyfriend during college, right?” Anne realized who she was saying that to and sighed. “Okay, maybe not everyone. But I’m going to be in Massachusetts and he still hasn’t made his college decision so it seems likelier than not that we won’t end up in the same state, maybe not even on the same coast.”

Bobbi nodded thoughtfully. Anne had gotten accepted into MIT, which Bobbi had never doubted but meant she was going to be further away than most of Bobbi’s other friends. At least Hunter would still be in Ohio, even if he was at a different school.

“That doesn’t mean you can’t make it work if you want it to,” she said. “But there’s no shame in breaking up after graduation or at the end of the summer if you don’t have the energy or inclination to.”

“I guess not,” Anne sighed. “I don’t know. It just — it feels like the timing is all wrong.”

Bobbi hummed, unsure of what to say other than what sounded like trite advice, even to her own ears: “Sometimes it happens that way. Someone can be the right person at the wrong time, or the wrong person at the right time.” Bobbi wondered sometimes, how she had gotten lucky enough to find the right person at the right time on her first try.

“I suppose you’re right,” Anne sighed. “I think I would regret not at least trying.”

“Then it’s a good thing you are trying.” Bobbi hoped she sounded encouraging and not as confused as she still felt. “And you know you can talk to me about it, right?” Bobbi didn’t want Anne thinking that just because Bobbi found the idea a bit bizarre that meant she didn’t want to be supportive.

“I know,” Anne promised. “Like I said, I just didn’t know how to tell you.”

“But now you’ve told me,” Bobbi said, zipping up the last zipper on her backpack.

“And I’m not uninvited from your adoption party?”

“Not yet. We’ll see if Tomas does anything stupid before May.”

“Bobbi.”

“I’m kidding!”

Mostly, she added silently.

---

“Stay still.” Bobbi clicked her tongue, pulling a makeup wipe out of the box and dragging it across Daisy’s eyelid to remove the errant mark of eyeliner that had appeared when Daisy fidgeted.

“I’m trying,” she grumbled. She managed to stay in place long enough for Bobbi to finish putting on her eyeliner, but immediately started squirming again when Bobbi drew back to observe her handiwork.

“What has gotten into you?” Bobbi asked. “It’s not like this is your first date.”

“Yeah, but it’s our first dinner!” Daisy insisted. “And we’re going someplace that’s not a fast food chain, which means it’s already way more serious than most high school dates, and it feels weird.”

“Good weird, or bad weird?” Bobbi asked, standing up and brushing the loose powder foundation off her shirt. Daisy’s compact had had a mini explosion when Bobbi had opened it, which wasn’t a big deal but hadn’t done anything to help Daisy’s nervous energy.

“Good weird,” Daisy promised, shifting in her chair so Bobbi could begin working on her hair. “If it felt bad weird I wouldn’t be going.”

“Good,” Bobbi said, grabbing Daisy’s hairbrush off her vanity and beginning the process of detangling Daisy’s hair. Daisy was planning on getting a haircut soon but for now her hair was just past her shoulders and occasionally unruly. “Your phone is charged?”

“Yes,” Daisy answered, “and I already texted you the address of the restaurant. But you are not allowed to sit out in the parking lot and stalk me while I’m on my date.”

“I’m not that intense,” Bobbi scoffed.

“Bobbi. If I hadn’t made you drive us home, how long would you have sat outside Baskin Robbins when Kora went there with Piper?”

“That’s different!” Bobbi insisted. “Kora’s a baby.”

“She’s not a baby,” Daisy said. “And neither am I.”

“I know.” Bobbi’s shoulders sagged as she continued brushing through Daisy’s hair. “I just worry about you.”

“I know you do. But we need to learn to find our own way and make our own mistakes, just like you did when you were our age.”

“I never made any romantic mistakes,” Bobbi corrected. “I only ever had Hunter.” Some would argue only ever being in love with one person was a mistake, but Bobbi wasn’t sure that was true — mostly because being in love with the same person for three years felt a lot like being in love with more than one person. The Hunter she’d fallen in love with wasn’t the Hunter she was in love with now, but that was a good thing. She loved the Hunter of today even more than the Hunter of yesterday.

“A mistake. Kidding!” Daisy added immediately when she saw the hurt in Bobbi’s eyes. “Kidding, kidding. Sorry, I forgot that’s a sore subject.”

“You’re okay.” Bobbi bent to kiss the crown of Daisy’s head to show her it really was okay. “I shouldn’t dish out any teasing I’m not willing to take, right?”

“It’s not teasing if it hurts your feelings,” Daisy said. “Then it’s just mean.”

“You’re so emotionally mature. It’s sickening,” Bobbi laughed.

“You forget that instead of talking to you about how I was afraid you were going to leave me, I made you miserable for a week and then screamed at you.”

“I didn’t forget,” Bobbi said. “Just moved on.”

“Now who’s the emotionally mature one?”

“I have a drawer full of sticky notes because I don’t believe the family that has told me multiple times they want me actually does want me,” Bobbi said dryly. Saving the sticky notes felt ridiculous, but it was nice to look back at them when she needed reassurance and no one was handy. “I think we both have some emotional maturity left to go.”

Bobbi finished brushing Daisy’s hair, then moved onto French braiding it.

“Considering we’re both still teenagers I think that’s acceptable,” Daisy said, looking at Bobbi in the mirror. “You’re going to be an adult soon, though.”

“Legally.” Being with the Coulsons had made Bobbi realize she was still a long way from being an adult in any other sense of the word. Part of that was because they had allowed her to be a child again — she didn’t have to worry about bills or cooking dinner or making sure her nana took her medicine. Her biggest worries now were all related to school and her adoption, which was a welcome change of pace.

The doorbell rang, and Daisy sat straighter.

“Give me fifteen more seconds,” Bobbi said, folding the last of Daisy’s hair into the braid. Daisy handed Bobbi a ponytail holder and she tied it off quickly before stepping back, allowing Daisy to race up the stairs towards the front door.

“Have fun!”

“I will!” Daisy called back breathlessly. “Love you!”

“Love you too!”

---

“Here we are,” Bobbi said as she pulled up to the Hartley’s house. Kora, sitting in the passenger seat, peered up at it curiously.

“And you used to live down the street?”

“I did, when I lived with my aunt,” Bobbi agreed. She always avoided using the entrance into the neighborhood that would take her by her aunt’s house — those memories were still sharper than she cared to admit, and she didn’t need them tearing her open every time she came to visit Hunter.

“I wish I’d gotten to meet her,” Kora said as she stepped out of the car. “She made you really happy.”

“She did,” Bobbi said, swallowing past the lump in her throat. It was hard to remember sometimes, with the way everything had ended, that being with Aunt Tess had made her happy, at least for a while. “I… Maybe you can meet her, sometime.” Aunt Tess wasn’t buried with her parents, but she wasn’t far, either. She could take Kora there someday, when she was ready.

“You don’t have to,” Kora said.

“I don’t have to do anything,” Bobbi agreed. “Let’s start with Vic and Izzy, okay?”

Kora had technically met Hunter’s parents before when they’d come for Homecoming, but they hadn’t talked for long. Now, knowing what she knew about herself, Kora’s curiosity about what life would look like being in love with another woman had grown. Bobbi could satisfy that curiosity and share another big part of her life with her sister in one fell swoop, so inviting Kora to come with her to the Hartleys for the day wasn’t a difficult decision.

“Littlest Coulson!” Hunter greeted, opening the front door before Bobbi and Kora had even made their way up the driveway.

“Hi Hunter!” Kora ran up to him, throwing her arms around him in an enthusiastic hug. “I was thinking,” Kora said as she let go of him, “aren’t you the littlest Hartley?”

“Maybe I am,” Hunter scoffed, “but I’m not nearly as little as you are, now am I?”

“Hey!” Kora huffed. “I’m not that little!” Kora was quite concerned with not being seen as the baby of the family as her thirteenth birthday approached, and Bobbi didn’t have the heart to tell her that August was still quite far away and the insistence she was almost thirteen did nothing to make her seem more mature.

“You also won’t be the littlest for much longer,” Bobbi said, running a soothing hand through Kora’s hair. “Once Mack and Elena’s baby comes you’ll be the second-littlest.”

“I can be middlest Coulson, like Daisy!”

“You won’t be middlest, though,” Hunter said, beckoning Kora inside. “Because by the time the baby comes Bobbi will be in the order and she’ll push you down a slot.”

Kora sighed dramatically. “I need Mom and Dad to adopt someone younger than me.”

“I don’t think young kids are their wheelhouse anymore,” Bobbi said. For that, she was thankful; if the Coulsons had been looking for a younger sibling for Kora, Bobbi never would’ve found them.

“They’re not looking for anyone new anyways,” Kora said. Bobbi hummed her agreement — Phil had told her she was the last missing piece of her family’s puzzle, and it would sting more than a little to have him say that and then immediately turn around and talk about taking in another child. Not that Bobbi would be opposed to it in the future, but she wanted time to settle before having to find a new place in the family dynamic.

“Say, Mum, are we ever going to get a new brother?” Hunter asked as he led Bobbi and Kora into the kitchen

“What makes you think it would be a brother?” Izzy stood at the sink washing dishes, but she shook the water off her hands when she saw Bobbi in the doorway.

“Because you wouldn’t want to threaten Bobbi’s position as favorite daughter,” Hunter answered dryly as Izzy pulled Bobbi into a hug. “It’s not fair you like my girlfriend better than me, you know. Her parents don’t like me better than her.”

“Maybe I’m just the objectively better child,” Bobbi teased. To Izzy, she said, “You remember my sister, Kora?”

“Of course I do!” Izzy said. “I’ve heard so much about you. Mostly from Hunter.” Izzy smiled conspiratorially. “Don’t tell Daisy, but you’re his favorite of Bobbi’s sisters.”

“Mum!”

“I’m building rapport, Hunter, hush!”

“You can build rapport without telling her all my secrets!”

“They’re not all your secrets.” Izzy rolled her eyes. “I haven’t told her —”

“I don’t want you to finish that sentence,” Hunter said.

“It was just going to be about what you do when you miss Bobbi.” Izzy blinked at him with faux innocence, and Bobbi cackled.

“What do you do when you miss me, teacup?” she asked, still laughing.

“I don’t have any mothers anymore,” Hunter announced, marching out of the kitchen. “I have no mothers. I’m an orphan.”

“What did I do?” Vic asked, carrying a box into the kitchen. She set it on the table, then turned to Kora. “Good morning, Kora. I’m sorry my family are all impolite monsters.”

“Hey!” Izzy and Hunter said in unison.

“I don’t mind,” Kora grinned. “Mine are awful too.”

“I’m never taking you anywhere with me ever again if you’re going to slander me like this,” Bobbi said.

“Go kiss your teacup.” Kora stuck out her tongue.

Vic and Izzy both burst into raucous laughter.

“Oh, she’s going to fit in just fine,” Izzy said. “You two go have fun. We’ll take care of Kora.”

“Take care of literally, and not as a euphemism for murder?” Bobbi double-checked.

“You see, this is why she shouldn’t be your favorite.” Hunter poked his head back into the kitchen, brow furrowed. “I’ve never suggested you murder anyone.”

“That’s not true,” Vic said crisply.

“When did I —?”

“Several times,” Vic interrupted. “Some of which I do not want to recount in front of a twelve-year-old. A twelve-year-old I do not, in fact, wish to murder, since it would irrevocably damage my relationship with my favorite child.”

“Thanks for the clarification, Vic.” Bobbi bumped her shoulder against Vic’s as she made her way out of the kitchen. “I’ll be upstairs, Kora. Don’t get into any trouble I’ll have to explain to Mom and Dad.”

“No promises!” Kora answered brightly.

Bobbi dragged a hand down her face. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

Chapter Text

[Bobbi]: HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!

[Hunter]: Good morning to you too

[Bobbi]: Don’t be a grumpus when I’m trying to be nice to you

[Bobbi]: Or I will not give you any cake

[Hunter]: But it’s my birthday :(

[Hunter]: You have to be nice to me

[Bobbi]: Do I?

[Hunter]: :(

[Hunter]: You’re going to make me cry on my birthday

[Bobbi]: Aw, teacup

[Bobbi]: Don’t worry, you can have cake

[Bobbi]: You’re still coming over later?

[Hunter]: How else am I going to get my cake?

[Hunter]: And I have something I want to show you, too

[Bobbi]: What is it?

[Hunter]: A surprise

[Bobbi]: I thought I was supposed to be surprising you?

[Hunter]: I contain multitudes

[Hunter]: I’ll see you later, lovey

[Bobbi]: Happy birthday <3

---

“I can’t believe you ate three pieces of cake,” Bobbi laughed as she twined her fingers with Hunter’s.

“In my defense, your mum cut the pieces really, really small. And it’s my birthday, so I can do whatever I want.”

“I don’t think whatever you want.” Bobbi lifted Hunter’s hand to her mouth to brush a kiss across his knuckles.

“Most of what I want?”

“Maybe,” Bobbi relented.

“And what if I want to kiss you?”

“That can be arranged,” Bobbi laughed, leaning down to press her lips against Hunter’s. He smiled against her mouth and Bobbi sighed happily, allowing herself to linger there a little longer. The sky was blue, the sun was warm, Hunter’s mouth tasted like vanilla buttercream, and she was happy.

“Why don’t you two go out and enjoy the nice weather?” Melinda suggested, intent on removing public displays of affection from her kitchen. “And I cut the pieces to an appropriate serving size as suggested by the box, so you hush.” She swatted playfully at Hunter and he grinned as he dodged it. He scooped up the backpack he had brought with him before tugging Bobbi out the back door, still chuckling.

“So,” Bobbi said as she settled onto the porch swing next to Hunter, “what did you want to show me?”

Hunter pulled a perfectly-folded piece of paper out from his bag, handing it to her wordlessly. On the front of the paper, which was thicker than usual but slightly brittle with age, were three words in a careful script: Baby Boy Hunter.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a letter,” Hunter answered softly, all previous joviality evaporated. “From my mum.” He cleared his throat. “She wrote it for me for the day I turned eighteen. And I guess even through all my homes, someone kept it, and —”

He broke off into a sob, and Bobbi nearly dropped the precious letter in her haste to wrap her arms around his shoulders.

“Oh, Hunter,” she whispered. “I don’t know what to say.”

“I haven’t read it yet,” Hunter said, snuffling loudly. “I was — can you read it to me?”

Bobbi nodded before she really processed the enormity of what he was asking her to do. This was the first, and maybe last, time he would hear from his mother. Terror she would somehow ruin the moment gripped her momentarily, but Bobbi pushed it down.

Hunter needed her.

She kept one arm around Hunter, using the other hand to open the letter and smooth it down. It was written in the same precise handwriting as was on the outside of the paper, and Bobbi’s heart stumbled. She didn’t remember her own mother’s handwriting, but she would never, ever forget what Hunter’s mother’s writing looked like — how her pen shaped the words, where she pressed hard and where softly, which letters she connected and which she let stand alone.

Bobbi had the feeling this would not be the last time she read Hunter this letter.

“My sweet baby boy…”

They asked me to give you a name, but they also said whoever takes you will probably change it. It’s so strange, sitting here and knowing that soon, I won’t even know my own child’s name. For now, they’re calling you Baby Boy. When I finish writing this I’ll tell them your name is Hunter, for however long you’ll keep it.

I don’t know if this letter will ever make it to you. I hope it does, because there’s so much I want to tell you… but also, writing this, I can’t remember what any of that was.

Reading this now, you probably don’t want to hear about how hard this decision was for me. You probably don’t want to hear that this was what I thought was best for you. I understand if you don’t read any of this letter, but I needed to write it, because you’re still beside me and I already miss you in a way that words will never reach. I won’t bother trying to explain why I made the choice I did, because I suspect the reasons why don’t matter so much as the fact I made it.

Sitting here, looking at you in your bassinet, I’m imagining everything I am going to miss in your life. I am going to miss you growing up. I am going to miss your first smile, your first laugh, your first steps. I am going to miss you crying, stomping around the house, scolding you. The list of things I am going to miss about your life is infinitely longer than the list of things I am going to see.

And that’s a good thing.

I hope by now you have found the people who you call your family, who will love you in ways I never could. I hope by now you have found peace. I hope by now you have found so many things you’d never be able to find if I was the one leading you.

I hope you’ll find me too, someday, when you’re ready. Because even if I wasn’t with you, I was with you. My heart will always be with you, my sweet baby boy. My heart will always be with you, and it will always be yours.

If you want to find me, I’ve put my name and your father’s on the next page. If not, I understand. It doesn’t change how I feel about you.

Love you forever,

Mum

Bobbi folded the letter back up neatly, not wanting the silent tears dripping down her cheeks to smudge the ink.

“I have the second page,” Hunter said, preempting the question Bobbi was going to ask. Unlike her, he wasn’t crying. “But I don’t think I’m ready to open it yet.”

“Okay.” Bobbi wiped at her eyes. “I — how are you feeling?”

“I — I don’t know. It’s weird because I know she’s the one who gave birth to me but she signed it Mum and when I heard that I just thought of my mums, you know? Like… Like I don’t know how to make room for her anymore.” Hunter let out a shuddering sigh. “Getting a mysterious letter explaining everything was all I wanted for so long, and now that I have it I don’t even know if I’m going to try to find her.”

“That’s okay,” Bobbi said. There wasn’t a right way to act in a situation like this — though if Bobbi had found a letter from her parents, she couldn’t imagine being ambivalent about it, or feeling like she didn’t have enough room for them. She’d be lying if she said she wasn’t jealous of Hunter right now.

She’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to grab him by the shoulders and shake him and yell at him about how some people never got this kind of closure. Some people had to live forever with the gaping wound of their parents dying on their heart and nothing to stitch it up. Some people would never remember the last words their mother said to them because they were eleven when she died and she was supposed to come home —

“Bob?” Hunter asked. “Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Bobbi said, swallowing back her tears. This was Hunter’s moment — his birthday, his mother. She couldn’t steal it from him. “I’m just — I’m so happy for you.”

Hunter leaned into her and Bobbi dropped a kiss to his forehead, his cheeks, the tip of his nose, before finally settling on his lips.

“I love you,” he mumbled against her mouth.

“I love you more,” she breathed, kissing him again in a vain attempt to push aside anything other than Hunter.

Hunter’s chest rose and fell under her palm as she kissed him, his fingers winding through her hair. Kissing him had always been as natural as breathing, like welcoming a part of herself home, and that didn’t change just because she was upset. If anything Bobbi craved the familiarity of Hunter’s kisses more with the knot of sadness and anger (and regret?) sitting just behind her breastbone.

They sat there kissing for a long while, and Bobbi kept waiting for the awful feelings to disappear. They didn’t — she couldn’t even shove them down or cover them up. She couldn’t do anything other than feel them, which was not how she normally preferred to deal with… anything.

“Thank you. For showing me,” Bobbi managed, hoping the tightness in her voice was something she was imagining and not actually there. She didn’t want Hunter to feel bad for her. Hunter couldn’t feel bad for her. Not now.

“Who else would I show?”

Bobbi shrugged helplessly.

Hunter tilted his head forward, knocking their foreheads together. His shoulders relaxed and Bobbi forced hers to release, too.

She loved Hunter. It would be okay — everything she was feeling would disappear eventually, and it would be okay.

It had to be okay.

---

“I’m heading out!” Bobbi called into the house. She should’ve waited for an affirmative from at least one of her family members so they didn’t think she’d run off, but the nervous energy buzzing under her skin didn’t let her sit still for very long. Even when she was in the driver’s seat of the car Bobbi couldn’t help but fidget, adjusting her seatbelt and repositioning her hands on the steering wheel and fiddling with the knobs on the dashboard at every possible moment.

Relief rushed through her when she pulled down the gravel access road of the cemetery and could finally get out of the stupid enclosed space that was her car’s cabin. She shook out her hands and ignored how they kept shaking even after she was done consciously controlling it. Bobbi tried to release the tension in her shoulders, but failed.

The cemetery looked different when it wasn’t the dead of winter, and Bobbi wasn’t sure she liked it. At least in mid-December the cemetery was as dreary as she felt, with dead grass and gray skies and everything quiet and cold. Her brain couldn’t quite process the greenery growing around the headstones, the birds singing in the nearby treetops, the warmth of the sunlight.

Some of the headstones had flowers in front of them; Bobbi did a double take when she realized her parents’ headstone was among them. She certainly hadn’t been the one to put them there, and didn’t know who else would.

Even though she had come here to see her parents — her mom more so, but both of them — Bobbi couldn’t find anything to say. Everything she could think of just felt wrong. How could she stand here, in front of the people who raised her, and tell them that she was leaving them behind? Getting into college, getting adopted… maybe they’d be happy for her, but maybe they’d be angry, too. Maybe they’d hate her for the choices she’d made.

Maybe they’d hate themselves for leaving her to make those choices on her own.

And that was really the reason she couldn’t talk, wasn’t it? Not because she didn’t have anything to say or was afraid they’d hate her for saying it (Bobbi couldn’t really believe her parents could ever hate her, even if it was one of her worst fears). Bobbi couldn’t talk to them because she was pissed off. She was pissed off her parents had left her. She was pissed off that Hunter got a perfect letter from his mum and perfect closure and Bobbi would never, ever get that. She was pissed off that she had a family who loved her and it still didn’t feel like enough.

She was pissed off that she was pissed off.

Bobbi dropped to the ground beside the headstone, pulling the bouquet of flowers into her lap. She ripped the first flower in half, throwing it onto the ground with a growl.

It didn’t make anything better, and now she was even more pissed off because someone had done something beautiful and thoughtful to respect her parents’ memories and she was ruining it.

She wanted to scream. She wanted to cry. She wanted to do something because holding it all in was killing her, but… she couldn’t.

It was harder to tell how much time had passed at the cemetery now that it was above freezing and she didn’t have frostbite to worry about. Bobbi guessed it was quite a while, based on the shape of the shadows changing along the grass, but it didn’t feel like a while. She was stuck, a bug preserved in amber. Those bugs probably suffocated to death the way Bobbi felt like she was suffocating, which was a morbid thought that oddly made her feel better. At least something, at some time, understood this awful feeling.

She traced her thumb along the seam of the cellophane wrapping over the bouquet of flowers, and Bobbi told herself it was because of the crinkling cellophane that she didn’t hear the approaching footsteps.

“Hermanitita,” Elena said. Her voice was quieter than was typical of her, but still more than enough to startle Bobbi. “Your parents are worried about you.”

Before Bobbi could protest, Elena sat on the ground next to her, grunting softly as she arranged herself on the soft grass. It was only a month now until the baby arrived, and Bobbi was no expert, but that didn’t seem like a time when a pregnant woman should be sitting down on the grass in the middle of a cemetery.

“How’d you find me?” Bobbi asked, ripping up a handful of grass to keep herself from pulling apart another flower. She’d intentionally obfuscated where she was going in the hopes she’d be able to collect herself and come home before anyone realized she hadn’t gone to Mack and Elena’s, but evidently she’d failed.

“Mack called Hunter to ask if you had gone home with him to continue the birthday festivities. He told Mack about the letter.”

“Oh.”

“This is a nice place to think,” Elena offered, voice still uncharacteristically low, perhaps out of respect for the dead.

“I guess.” Bobbi shrugged, pulling up another bit of grass. “I don’t come here often.” Or at all. “I don’t know who left these flowers,” she added.

“It was me,” Elena answered plainly. When Bobbi looked at her in askance, Elena simply repeated, “This is a nice place to think.”

“Just thought maybe you’d have better places to think,” Bobbi said. “Climate-controlled places, where you don’t have to sit on the ground.”

Elena inclined her head to acknowledge Bobbi’s point. “I go to visit Mack’s parents and brother sometimes, too. They have a nice bench.”

“Mack’s brother?”

“He’ll tell you when he’s ready,” Elena said. “What I mean to say is that I do have other places to think, but I like this one.”

“Why?” Bobbi hated cemeteries, and hated this cemetery above all other ones. She couldn’t imagine going there willingly.

“It’s a good place to pray,” Elena said. “I think God is closest where life and death unite.” She paused. “And I’ve been talking to the mothers in my life recently, to prepare for the little one. I never got to meet your mother, but she is still special to me, because she brought me you. So I like to talk to her too.”

“Does she ever answer?” The question was ridiculous. Bobbi didn’t believe in Elena’s God, wasn’t sure if she believed in Elena’s Heaven and Hell — yet she still wanted to know what Elena heard from beyond the grave, or what she imagined she heard.

“Of course she does,” Elena said. “Not with words, but in other ways. I talk to her, and then I go home and I talk to you, and I see her fingerprints all over you. And I hope that if my child is a daughter I will be half the mother to her that your mother was to you, because I hope that if my child is a daughter she becomes half the woman you are.”

“Elena…”

“Your mother was lucky to have you, Bobbi. If she could send you a letter, she would tell you that a hundred million times. And she would tell you that she is so incredibly proud of the person you’re becoming, because that person makes everyone around her better.”

“I doubt that,” Bobbi said.

“Don’t doubt it,” Elena admonished. “Mack is a better man because of you. He is kinder to you than he ever could be to himself, and though he would never tell you, I think that loving you taught him how to love himself better, too. I am a better woman because of you. You taught me to slow down and appreciate the small things in life that I might otherwise rush past, like the colors in a nursery. You taught me to love someone completely and selflessly in a way not even Mack could. He is the love of my life, but you are my little sister.”

“I don’t think you’re the one who got better by you loving me,” Bobbi mumbled, leaning into Elena’s side. Bobbi couldn’t imagine a world where Elena didn’t love with her whole heart — but she could imagine one where Bobbi wasn’t willing to accept that love. Mack and Elena, all of the time and care they had put into her… Bobbi became the best version of herself because they loved her, and that was a debt she would never be able to repay. It was because of them she was able to have the life she did now, with her adoption ahead of her and her heartache mostly behind her.

“Trust me.” Elena brushed her fingers through Bobbi’s hair. “We did. We do.”

Everything that had been sitting inside her surged forwards, but instead of coming out in the sort of thunderous, ugly sobbing Bobbi had expected from such a storm of feelings, the tears came out like a summer morning rain: thick and heavy but quiet and warm.

Like a summer morning rain, when the tears were gone Bobbi felt like she had been scrubbed clean. There was still a heavy humidity in her, but it wasn’t oppressive — it would burn away with enough sunlight and time.

Elena leaned into her and Bobbi laid her head on her sister’s shoulder, soaking in her warmth.

With a sister like Elena, sunlight wasn’t hard to find.

Chapter Text

“You may not enter,” Mack said, voice deep and booming in a way he probably thought was intimidating but just made Bobbi laugh.

“I may not?” she asked, holding back her smile so she wouldn’t make Mack break character.

“You may not, unless you answer my riddle correctly.”

“Your riddle,” Bobbi repeated.

“Yes, my riddle.” Mack cleared his throat, and Bobbi had to smother another laugh at the melodrama of it all. “What are the eight levels of classification, in order?”

“Domain, kingdom, phylum, class, order, family, genus, species,” Bobbi rattled off. “Not a riddle, by the way, since it’s fact-based.”

“You are —“

“— a little shit, I know,” Bobbi finished, pushing past Mack and into the nursery. “One of these days you’re going to slip up and say that in front of Mom and Dad and they are going to kill you.”

“I don’t slip up,” Mack scoffed.

“Uh huh.”

“I don’t!”

“You do!” Elena called from the kitchen.

“When you and Hunter get married, I hope he and Daisy tease you as mercilessly as you and Elena tease me,” Mack grumbled.

Bobbi’s smiled flickered. She hadn’t spoken to Hunter since his birthday, and wasn’t quite sure how to approach the conversation. Hunter surmised from his call from Mack that the letter had shaken her more than she’d let on, and he’d been giving her space, which was nice at first, but quickly grew… upsetting wasn’t quite the word, but it was the best word she had. She wanted him to be the one to tell her everything was okay between them, and it upset her that he didn’t. Of course he had no way of knowing that was what she wanted since she hadn’t told him, but…

“You okay?” Mack asked.

Bobbi shrugged. She’d learned better than to lie to Mack, but she didn’t feel like hashing everything out. Mack would tell her to tell Hunter how she was feeling, which was good advice, but not advice she wanted to hear.

“We’re on the back of the to-do list,” Mack said, moving on from the topic seamlessly. “Of course after the baby shower we’ll probably have more to do again with everything people are gifting, but we’re hoping that will be a manageable level of work for me alone, since you’re going to be busy.”

“I think I can find room in my schedule for my third-favorite brother.”

“Hey!”

“Really, Mack. It’ll be good to have a break.” May was going to be a whirlwind, between AP exams and prom and graduation, not to mention her adoption at the beginning of the month.

“If you’re sure,” Mack hummed. “Okay, so what we have left to do: hang the mobile, organize the changing table, put photos in the frames and put them on the hooks. And I’m sure we’ll find other little bits and bobs to do along the way, but those are the three big things.”

“I can do the picture frames,” Bobbi volunteered. “Do you and Elena already have the photos you want in them picked out?”

“You would have to talk to her,” Mack said, scratching the back of his head. “I know she had a lot of ideas but she hasn’t committed.”

“Okay, so get Elena’s photo choices, get them printed, put them in frames,” Bobbi said, more to herself than Mack. “Do you need help with the mobile?”

“I’ll be fine,” Mack said. “I can just use the step stool.”

“Good.” Bobbi departed the nursery, finding Elena in the kitchen. She was humming a familiar song to herself as she prepared dinner, and Bobbi leaned against the counter, just listening for a minute. These moments of quiet were going to get fewer and further between once the baby came, and Bobbi wanted to savor them.

“Got a minute?” Bobbi asked when Elena noticed her at the counter. “I need executive decisions for which photos go in the nursery. We have four frames.”

“Mm,” Elena said, setting down the dough she was separating into individual balls for arepas. “Can you grab my computer, querida? I have all the photos on there.”

Bobbi did as she was told, bringing Elena’s computer to the kitchen counter while Elena washed her hands of the corn meal and lard that she had been using to make the arepas.

“Here we are,” Elena said as she opened one of the folders on the desktop. “This one is a definite yes,” she hummed, opening a file of an unfamiliar cityscape.

“It’s where I grew up,” she explained when she saw the mild confusion on Bobbi’s face. “We don’t know when we’ll feel comfortable taking the baby on the plane ride but we want them to know where they came from.”

“That’s sweet,” Bobbi murmured. The warm jewel tones of the city at sunset would complement the decor in the rest of the nursery well, which was just a bonus.

“We’re unsure how much we want to be typical nursery art and how much should be personal to us,” Elena continued, pulling up a dozen more photos in quick succession. Some were, as she said, typical nursery art — abstract looking blobs that could’ve been baby animals but also could’ve been fruits, minimalist line art of a mother holding a child, lullabies in sprawling calligraphy. The others were family photos — the Coulson family at Mack and Elena’s wedding, a group of people Bobbi assumed was the Rodriguez family crowded in a kitchen together, Elena’s maternity photoshoot.

“This one is Mack’s favorite,” Elena said, navigating to one of the photos.

Bobbi’s heart stumbled in her chest. It was the same photo she had hanging on her bedroom wall, the two of them smiling at each other, totally oblivious to the camera.

“He knows you worry about not being around,” Elena said quietly. “He hopes this way at least the baby will know your face and you can worry less.”

“You don’t have to do that for me,” Bobbi protested. “You should use one of the pictures of the whole family.”

“We don’t have any pictures of the whole family,” Elena answered crisply. “There aren’t any with you.”

Bobbi blinked, slightly startled to realize Elena was right. They hadn’t taken any photos at Thanksgiving and Trip, Mack, and Elena had been absent for Christmas. There weren’t any Coulson family photos that included her.

“I’ll be taking one at your adoption,” Elena said in her no-nonsense way. “If it makes you uncomfortable to have the photo of just you and Mack we can use that one instead.”

“It doesn’t make me uncomfortable,” Bobbi insisted. “I just don’t want you to feel like you have to put a picture of me up just so I feel included.”

“You should know by now I will never do something just because I have to,” Elena tutted. “We want you to be here in spirit even if you can’t be here in person, the same way we want my family to be here in spirit if not in person. You are a part of the story of our family, and we want the baby to know that story.”

“Okay, so we’ll print this one and the Bogotá one,” Bobbi said. “Which other two?”

“What do you think?”

“I think one of your maternity photos would be nice,” Bobbi hedged. “If we’re going with the whole idea that our family is a story, your maternity photoshoot is kind of where the baby enters the story, right?”

Elena hummed her agreement. “I think an art piece as the last one, then, for balance.”

Bobbi nodded — then they’d have two photos with people and two photos without.

“If you’re ready to commit to giving your child a favorite animal, the elephant could be cute,” Bobbi said.

“And if I’m not ready to commit to making such a life-altering decision?” Elena teased.

“I’m partial to rainbows.”

“Why don’t we have them both printed and see what fits together the best?”

“Sounds good to me. You’re going to send them to the CVS?”

Elena hummed her agreement. “You’re fine to pick them up?” Sunset was later and later now that it was solidly spring, but Elena knew as well as anyone Bobbi’s distaste for driving in the dark.

“Yeah, of course. I promised Trip I’d call today anyways.” Even if it did get dark out on her drive back, Bobbi felt safer with her brother on the phone.

“Dinner should be ready when you get back,” Elena said, pulling up the CVS website to send the prints. “Drive safe.”

“Of course.” Bobbi smacked a kiss on Elena’s cheek before grabbing her keys off the table. “Don’t let your husband die hanging up the mobile.”

“Isn’t that the definition of natural selection?”

“Well, not really, seeing as you reproduced with him despite his dumbassery and natural selection is about reproductive fitness.”

“Good to know,” Elena laughed. “Go before it gets too dark.” She shooed Bobbi out the door, her laughter following Bobbi into the sunset.

---

Bobbi almost missed curfew coming back from Mack and Elena’s, by absolutely no fault of her own. Dinner ran late because they hadn’t been able to stop their conversation until an unreasonably late hour. Trip hadn’t been satisfied with the short conversation they’d had on her way to the CVS and their conversation on Bobbi’s drive home sprawled far longer than the length of their drive, leaving Bobbi sitting in the driveway having an enthusiastic debate about which Batman movie was the best. Trip was really into comic books, so he had opinions about Batman. Bobbi had asked him if he knew anything about the elusive comic Anne was looking to add to her collection, and that had led them down an entirely different rabbit hole of comics elitism and how unnecessarily difficult it was to find some issues of certain comics.

Bobbi had hung up hastily when she realized her phone’s clock read 10:58 (though not before Trip had promised to keep his eyes peeled for an issue of Anne’s comic that didn’t cost an arm and a leg) and slid through the door right as it flipped over to 11:00.

“Cutting it close,” Daisy commented from the sofa.

“Trip and I were talking about Batman,” Bobbi said breathlessly, sliding the deadbolt into place behind her. “And I left Mack and Elena’s late.”

“Did you guys finally finish the nursery?”

“Uh huh!” Bobbi rocked onto the balls of her feet excitedly. “You wanna see pictures, or wait until the baby shower?”

“Pictures!”

Bobbi flopped onto the couch next to her sister, pulling up the nursery pictures excitedly.

Daisy let out a low whistle. “That’s beautiful.”

“Right? I can’t believe we’re finally done.” A part of Bobbi (a minuscule part, but a part nonetheless) was worried about what she was going to do now that she didn’t have an excuse to go visit Mack and Elena. She knew they loved her and they wanted her around, but now she wasn’t helping anymore, and that was scary.

“You spent a lot of time putting it together,” Daisy agreed.

Bobbi paused, awkwardness dripping over her. “Are you, um…” Bobbi blew out a breath. “I mean, we never really talked about the whole me being the favorite thing, and I guess…” She couldn’t find the words to ask what she meant, mostly because are you jealous? seemed awfully harsh.

“I’m kind of sad I didn’t get to do it with you,” Daisy admitted. “But I know it was important for you to get to know Mack and Elena, and I think spending time with them was good for you.”

“It was,” Bobbi agreed. “I guess if it were me I would just be kind of jealous. Especially because Mack was yours first.” Bobbi passed her phone from hand to hand just to give herself something to do, but when it slipped between her fingers and landed on the couch she didn’t make a move to pick it up again.

“Yeah, he was my brother first, but he’s both of ours now. Just like Mom and Dad are both of ours now, and everyone else.” Daisy shrugged. “I could be jealous of you for taking away time they could’ve spent with me, but you could also be jealous of me for getting to know them earlier, you know?”

Bobbi swallowed hard. “I guess it’s hard to see things both ways.”

“Well that’s why we have therapy and other people,” Daisy pointed out. “To help us see the other perspective.”

“Can I get your perspective on something else?” Bobbi asked.

“Hit me.”

“Hunter got a letter from his biological mum on his eighteenth birthday. He says he doesn’t know if he wants to meet her and that makes me… angry, I guess? Upset?”

“What about it makes you upset?” Daisy asked patiently.

“I don’t know. Just like… he finally gets closure and I know I’m never going to.” Aunt Tess had gone through all her parents’ belongings and hadn’t found anything to that effect. On a logical level Bobbi understood that — there was no reason for her parents to have worried about leaving her too soon, and certainly not both at the same time. It would’ve been a different kind of heart-wrenching if they had left a note behind for her, just in case. No matter how much she thought about it, though, Bobbi couldn’t stop the jealousy and the anger from springing up when she thought about Hunter getting the letter.

“Do you maybe feel like he’s wasting his opportunity at getting closure by not meeting his mom?” Daisy prodded.

“Maybe? I mean, I know he’s going to reach out to her eventually. I know him, and he just… he couldn’t leave that stone unturned, you know? He’s too curious. And I think a part of him was hoping that there was a good reason for giving him up.”

“Could Hunter feel jealous of you because you have a good reason for your parents leaving you?”

Bobbi pondered that for a long, long while. When she and Hunter had met, he’d already been staying with Vic and Izzy — not adopted yet, but staying with them. They hadn’t gotten as much into his feelings about being abandoned because they were focused on the new relationships he was building. And no, Bobbi hadn’t ever really thought to ask him how he felt about how different their situations were. They’d found their common ground and stayed there rather than straying into the scarier area of what separated them. Bobbi doubted even if they’d tried to talk about it that they’d have been able to get anywhere productive. They were two traumatized, scared kids and they hadn’t had the words for anything they were feeling. Even now, Bobbi didn’t think she was doing that great of a job of expressing herself.

“It’s okay if you’re jealous of him,” Daisy said, taking Bobbi’s hand in hers. “I’m jealous all the time of you and Fitz and Mack and Trip for getting to meet your parents when I never got to. And then I feel ridiculous because Fitz’s dad beat him and I think that not knowing your dad is probably better than knowing he was some psychopath with anger issues. It probably hurts a lot more to know what you’re missing than to love someone who only exists in your imagination.”

“I think about that a lot,” Bobbi said. “Whether I actually miss my parents or miss the version of them in my head, I mean. It’s like… I got eleven years with them, but for most of that time I wasn’t even aware that they were like, humans, you know?”

Daisy nodded. “When you’re a kid adults seem so different from you.”

“Especially your parents,” Bobbi said.

“But back to the jealousy,” Daisy said, not letting Bobbi get an easy out of the conversation. “I guess the question you have to ask yourself is whether or not being jealous of him is worth ending your relationship.”

“Of course it isn’t!” How could that even be a possibility? Hunter was hers, and she was his, and nothing else mattered beyond that. Or that’s how it would be in a perfect world.

“I didn’t think so.” Daisy squeezed Bobbi’s hand. “So, what’re you going to do?”

“Talk to him, I guess,” Bobbi sighed. She didn’t see another choice, but she also didn’t know how to have the conversation with Hunter.

“He loves you,” Daisy reminded her. “You didn’t think badly of me because I’m jealous of you, right?”

“That’s different.” Bobbi looked down at her lap. “I’m jealous of you, too, so it’s more… fair.”

“Jealous of me?” Daisy repeated. When Bobbi gave her a look, Daisy shrugged. “Consider this your practice conversation.”

“I mean, when people look at you and Kora, they have no idea you’re adopted. You look like Mom and Dad’s bio kids. And yeah, when I’m alone with Dad people have no clue, not like Trip or Mack, but when Mom and I go places together it’s like… everyone knows I don’t belong to her. And then when I try to talk to people about Wàipó they’re like, what’s this white girl doing butchering words in Mandarin? And I know Mom didn’t celebrate Lunar New Year this year because of me and then I start wondering if it’s because she doesn’t want me to know those things about her and her culture and it’s just… a lot.”

“Well, to start with, you belong to Mom whether you look like her or not, and anyone who requires their kids to look like them to love them is an asshole,” Daisy said. “And so is anyone who thinks you can’t speak Mandarin because you’re white.”

Bobbi nodded, but Daisy wasn’t done talking yet. “I think Mom didn’t do Lunar New Year because she didn’t want to pressure you one way or another. She didn’t know then how much you cared about her and Dad so she didn’t want you to feel like you had to participate if you didn’t want to… but she also didn’t want you to feel like you were being left out if we did something and didn’t include you. Celebrating a holiday wasn’t worth more to her than you being comfortable, especially not after what happened at Thanksgiving.”

Bobbi hated how much sense that made — but she supposed the whole thing about insecurities was that sometimes they blinded her to sense, which was why having another perspective was so useful.

“Wàipó taught you to make dumplings, right? That’s part of our culture, too, and she wanted to share that with you.”

“When you put it that way…” Bobbi hadn’t considered how culture was more than just the big things, though she probably should’ve. It was just easier to feel forgotten sometimes.

“It might be something to talk to Dr. Garner about,” Daisy suggested. “He might have resources for transracial adoptees, or know someone who does.”

“Probably.” Dr. Garner seemed to have resources about just about everything, which was nice but also kind of infuriating. Sometimes it made Bobbi feel like she just wasn’t trying hard enough to find what she needed — which was probably another thing she needed to bring up with her therapist. It was his job to know about all these things, not hers, but she felt pressure anyways.

“It’s hard,” Daisy said. “I mean, it’s easy to assume that because we’re all adopted we all share something, and in a way we do because we’re all a part of the same family, but it’s more complicated than that.”

“Just once, I’d like for something to be simple.” It seemed like the older Bobbi got the more complicated things became, even the simple things she had once taken for granted.

“Simple isn’t fun,” Daisy said, flexing her fingers in Bobbi’s.

“You and I have different definitions of fun.”

“Maybe,” Daisy laughed. “But that’s why you keep me around.”

“One of many reasons,” Bobbi agreed, cuddling close to Daisy. “We should probably go to bed.”

“Maybe,” Daisy agreed. “Or, we could stay here and smuggle some chocolate out of Fitz’s stash once we’re really sure he’s asleep.”

“This is why you’re the fun sister.”

“Hell yeah I am!”

Chapter Text

Bobbi was not expecting Mike, of all people, to open the door. She liked Mike, she did, but his appearance when she didn’t expect it threw her off-balance for an already disorienting conversation.

“Hey, Bobbi,” he said affably, leaning against the door frame. “Didn’t think we’d be seeing you this weekend.”

“Is Hunter home?” she squeaked out.

“Should be. You wanna come in?”

“I can just wait out here,” Bobbi said. She didn’t want to go through the shame of Hunter kicking her out if this conversation didn’t go well.

Mike gave her a strange look but ducked back inside, leaving her standing alone on the front doorstep. Even though it was nearly May there was still a bite to the air now that sunset had arrived, and Bobbi held back a shiver as she waited.

In actuality it couldn’t have been more than a minute before Hunter arrived, but it felt much longer with only her own nerves to keep her company.

“There a reason you won’t come in?” he asked warily, stepping out of the house and closing the door behind him.

Bobbi lifted her shoulder. “I didn’t know if you’d want me to.”

“There’s this thing called using your words. It’s really great, you should try it sometime.”

“Hunter —“ Bobbi sighed. She didn’t have anything else to say, because even if she could’ve done without the snark, he was right. She should’ve talked to him.

“I shared something personal with you and you pretended like you were alright, but then you — you ran away from your family and you didn’t talk to me for a week!” Hunter said, shoving his hands into his pockets. “I thought you were better than that, Bob. I thought we were better than that.”

“I’m not,” Bobbi said, looking down at the scuffed toes of her shoes. “I don’t know how to say things I know you don’t want to hear and —“

“Who ever said I didn’t want to hear it?” Hunter interrupted. “I wanted you to be happy for me, but now I can’t even be happy for myself because I know I made you miserable! And it makes me feel like a shite boyfriend and a shite person for not even realizing how much it hurt you, and…” He dragged his hand down his face. “I don’t like hurting you, Bob. But I like even less knowing that you won’t tell me if I do hurt you.”

Bobbi’s gut twisted. “You’re right. I messed up.” She couldn’t bear to look Hunter in the eyes, so she kept staring at her shoes.

“So, what are we going to do about it?”

“Huh?”

“What are we going to do about it?” Hunter repeated patiently. “Unless your solution is a breakup, we need to figure out how we’re going to fix it.”

“But…” But I don’t deserve that.

“Do you want to break up?” Hunter asked, voice suddenly small and insecure.

“No!” Bobbi yelped. “No, I just… I didn’t think you’d forgive me so easily.”

“I never said that I forgave you,” Hunter corrected. “Just that I want to fix it.”

“I… maybe we should go inside for this,” Bobbi suggested. The cold had grown sharper and she didn’t want to be distracted by shivering.

“Yeah, okay.” Hunter let them both back into the house before leading Bobbi wordlessly up to his room. Bobbi waited for his cue on where to sit, and he gestured her onto the bed beside him.

“The reason I can’t forgive you yet,” Hunter said as he settled onto the bed, “is I’m not even sure you know why what you did was wrong.”

“It was wrong because I lied to you,” Bobbi answered.

“And?”

“And…”

“And it was wrong because you put my feelings above yours, but not in a healthy way,” Hunter said when she couldn’t come up with anything more. “It’s fine to put someone else first sometimes, but you can’t do it all the time, and you can’t just ignore your feelings, either. It was wrong because you didn’t tell me what you were feeling and I had to find out from your brother when he thought you’d scarpered.”

“I didn’t tell you because I don’t know how to talk to you about it!” Bobbi blurted. “I’ve spent our entire relationship only talking about my parents one day a year and I don’t know how to do it. I don’t even — I’ve barely started realizing all the shit their death left behind for me. And it wasn’t just them. It was Aunt Tess, too, and my nana, and,” Bobbi gulped back a sob. “My parents left for dinner one night and never came back. Aunt Tess said she was going to be fine and then she wasn’t. The last time I saw my nana she didn’t even recognize me, and I never got to say goodbye to her, either. Even if you never go find your mother, you at least got a goodbye. And it’s not fair that you get Vic and Izzy and now you get your bio parents too when I still barely have the Coulsons and I just — it’s not fair. And I know that’s rich for me to say because at least I got time with my parents when you never did, but it just… everyone I have ever loved has been taken away from me and I knew if I told you how I felt you’d be taken away from me, too.”

By the end of her tirade Bobbi’s chest heaved and her cheeks burned. She hadn’t planned to say half of what she did, but as soon as she’d started the words had just kept spilling, and spilling, and spilling like uncapped ink. Now everything was dark and blurry and messy and it wasn’t fair.

“Sweetheart.” Hunter cupped her cheek in his hand. “I thought you trusted me more than that.”

“I did,” Bobbi sniffed. “But then everything started becoming more complicated and I — you were the center of my world for so long and now you’re not because I have my family, and that’s scary. I want you to be the center of my world again, because you were the sun and you made everything simple and safe and warm, and…”

“Take a deep breath, love,” Hunter instructed. She did as she was told, forcing herself to breathe in time with him until she’d calmed down enough to string together a coherent sentence again.

“I miss when it was just the two of us,” Bobbi said softly. “I don’t want that to change.”

“I miss it too,” Hunter whispered. “But change doesn’t have to be a bad thing.”

“I know, but…” Bobbi sighed. “I wish that it hurt less. I wish that I could keep trusting you the way I always have and I wish that I had more room for you, and… how do you feel about that?” she asked, stopping herself before she could go on another rambling monologue.

“I wish you had more room for me, too,” he said simply. “I’ve never been good at feeling like I was second to something else, and for a long time I was jealous of the Coulsons. They had so much of you and they were wasting it with making you feel like you were unwanted and that made me angry, and it made me sad. But I also know I would never forgive myself if I was the one who held you back from being happy. And they… they make you happy in a way I don’t think I’ll ever know how to. Sure, they made some mistakes, but I know I’ve made them, too. Not telling you how I felt about them probably was a mistake, especially given I’ve been lecturing you on telling me things even if I don’t want to hear them, but…” Hunter sighed. “I meant what I said when you told me you were getting adopted, Bob. I’m happy for you and I’m happy for your family. I know that means less room for me than there was before, but as long as I still have some room, I’ll be happy.”

“I’ll always have room for you, Hunter,” Bobbi said, leaning into his hand still on her cheek. “And if I don’t I’ll make room. Even if you’re not my sun anymore you’re still a star, and I still need you to find my way.” It was stupidly romantic, but Bobbi wanted to say it. More importantly, she wanted Hunter to hear it, and to understand that she hadn’t kept things from him because she didn’t love him. She kept things from him because she loved him too much.

“If I’m going to be your star, or your sun, or — or whatever celestial body metaphor you use,” Hunter laughed then, a real laugh that made Bobbi’s chest loosen, “you need to trust that I’m going to be there. Even if you piss me off or say something that’s hard for me to hear or anything. I want to marry you, Bobbi. And you know, those vows are for better and poorer.”

“I’ve always been afraid of what poorer looks like,” Bobbi said. “Because to me poorer’s always meant losing someone completely.”

“That’s not what it has to mean,” Hunter said. “That’s not what it should mean, in fact.”

“Yeah, I’m realizing.” Bobbi laughed huffily. She knew, logically, that she was healing, but sometimes she wished healing didn’t involve unlearning everything she thought she’d known. “So, I guess we should loop back to the bit where we talk about how to fix it.”

“Honestly, I think we uncovered more than I bargained for when I thought about fixing it.” Hunter’s callused thumb ran along Bobbi’s cheekbone. “Maybe we can table that for a little while.”

“And do what instead?”

“The vows are for better and poorer,” Hunter said somberly. “If I’m going to show you what poorer’s going to look like, I think maybe I should show you what better is, too.”

He reached his other hand up to her face, pulling her in for a soft, smooth kiss. Bobbi’s arm wrapped around Hunter’s neck and she sighed into his mouth as it opened beneath hers.

If this was better, she would certainly take it.

---

“This is too many boxes,” Elena murmured to Bobbi as she came into the living room and saw the pyramid of presents in the corner that continued to grow with every new arrival to the house. The only people at the baby shower Bobbi recognized were the ones she was related to, so she was relieved when her sister settled next to her on the sofa, in clear view of the pile of presents.

“Babies need a lot of boxes.”

“I think you’re thinking of cats,” Elena laughed. “I guess we will see how much I actually need when all of them are unwrapped, yes?”

“Didn’t you two have a registry or something?”

“I am guessing you didn’t look at the registry if you have to ask about it.”

“I have insider information,” Bobbi rejoined. “So if you don’t like my gift, blame your husband.”

“I still cannot believe you got the baby a gift. You’ve already done so much.”

“Like you haven’t done a billion things for me,” Bobbi said, knocking her shoulder against Elena’s. She didn’t think of Mack and Elena’s kindness as a debt to repay (mostly because she doubted they would be happy if she suggested anything like that), but knowing they cared for her as much as they did made it easier for her to care in return. “I got the baby a gift because I wanted to, not because I felt like I had to.”

“Good.” Elena pressed herself closer to Bobbi. “I find this part of pregnancy very strange. Everyone wants to do everything. Your mother is trying to organize a meal train.”

“Yeah, I know. She keeps asking me how often I’m going to come over and cook for you two so she can block those days off the schedule.” Melinda knew she couldn’t cook worth a damn so she handled all the organizational aspects of making sure Mack and Elena wouldn’t starve when they were sleep deprived and incapable of handling anything other than a microwave safely.

“You know you don’t have to do that, either,” Elena said, just as she had every time Bobbi had brought up the subject of cooking.

“Yeah, but what else am I going to do after graduation?” She’d considered trying to get an internship so she’d have work experience going into college, but when she really sat and thought about it, all Bobbi wanted to do was spend as much time with her family while she still had them.

“Relax, for once in your life.”

“You’re one to talk about relaxation.” Even a month away from her due date Elena only sat down when absolutely necessary. She liked to keep moving, and Bobbi could appreciate the feeling. Sometimes it terrified her to think about what would happen if she paused long enough to take a breath.

“Our door is always open to you,” Elena reiterated. “To all of you,” she added when Daisy and Kora drifted over, apparently bored with talking to a woman with a toddler on her hip. Daisy perched herself on the arm of the sofa and Kora curled up at Bobbi’s feet, resting her head against Bobbi’s knees.

“We still have an extra month of school after Bobbi gets out,” Daisy groaned. “Not fair.”

“Life isn’t fair, Daisy Chains.” An unfamiliar woman ruffled Daisy’s hair, smiling broadly. She was about as tall as Elena, with neat cornrows in her hair and an eye patch over her right eye. “Sorry for interrupting, but Elena, your mom’s asking if you’re ready to start the games.”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” Elena answered, failing to hide her grimace. Melinda had gone all-out for the baby shower for her first grandchild, which included more baby-themed games than Bobbi knew what to do with. It was a bit strange to hear Melinda be referred to as Elena’s mom, but Bobbi it was true — and since Elena’s own mother had died when she was a teenager, Bobbi supposed Elena would need someone else to look to for maternal guidance. Maybe that was why Elena had reminded her so much of Melinda the week previous in the kitchen.

“I’ll get everyone together, then,” the woman said. “You stay here.”

“I’m capable of moving,” Elena grumbled under her breath when the woman had left for the kitchen to gather everyone who was still there eating the refreshments Melinda had purchased earlier that day.

“We know,” Kora said, reaching up to pat Elena’s knee consolingly. “I am never having kids.”

Bobbi was tempted to agree; people were so strange around Elena now that she was heavily pregnant, but she wasn’t any less competent than she had been before. Maybe Bobbi was in that category too, insisting on helping with the nursery and with dinners, but she hoped not. At least Bobbi definitely wasn’t one of the weirdos that touched Elena’s stomach without permission (though once when the baby was kicking, Elena had let her feel, which was equal parts alien and amazing).

“Akela is who asked me if I was ready,” Elena said without prompting as the woman made her way back into the living room. “She works with Mack. That’s Polly and her daughter, Robin,” she continued, pointing to the woman Kora and Daisy had been talking to before joining them on the sofa. Elena narrated as the rest of the guests trickled into the room, and fondness surged in Bobbi’s chest as Kora and Daisy put in their own comments. Even if she wasn’t going to remember half these names, Elena cared enough to tell her who everyone was, and her younger sisters cared enough to give her their impressions of everyone. She belonged here — at the party, yes, but especially tucked on the sofa with her sisters.

Melinda came into the room at the tail end of the train of party guests, pausing when she saw the girls all arranged on the couch. Her eyes softened as she drank them in, and Bobbi offered her mother a shy smile. She could hear what Melinda was thinking: My babies. My daughters.

Bobbi wondered if everyone else marveled at their family as much as Melinda marveled at hers. She noticed more and more these days how her mother would just stop and watch what was happening around her, like she was afraid it was going to disappear. Bobbi and her mother were alike in that way, but instead of her fear ruining the moment, Melinda found a way to use it to make the moment better. Bobbi hoped she could do that, too, one day. Hopefully before she had children of her own (if she had children of her own).

The spell that had come over Bobbi broke when someone asked the rules of the first game they were going to play, and the corners of Melinda’s mouth lifted in one last smile before she turned to the assembled group and began explaining the first of many, many games they were going to play.

“Are you paying attention?” Elena whispered.

“No,” Bobbi whispered back. “Are you?”

“No,” Elena chuckled under her breath.

“I am,” Kora said out of the corner of her mouth. “So shush.”

Bobbi didn’t muffle her snort of laughter in time, and Melinda looked over at her. Bobbi raised a shoulder sheepishly at the questioning tilt of her mother’s head, stroking a hand down Kora’s hair in silent apology. Melinda blinked once before returning to her spiel, leaving Bobbi and Elena to continue snickering under their breaths.

They were definitely going to lose whatever the hell this game was — but they were going to be happy doing it.

Chapter Text

“Before we begin,” the judge said, looming down on them from his place at the podium, “I want to make sure, one final time, that this is being done of everyone’s free will. Barbara, you want to be adopted?”

“Yes, sir,” Bobbi said, voice trembling with anticipation. She just wanted the ceremony over with so she could stop worrying.

“Mr. and Mrs. Coulson, you want to adopt her?”

“No.”

Bobbi turned to look at her parents, horror rushing up her throat like bile. When Phil and Melinda looked back at her, they didn’t have any faces — their skin was smooth and blank as they reached for her with menacing hands.

“We don’t want her.” The words obviously came from the Coulsons’ faces, but hearing her parents’ voices without seeing their mouths moving disoriented Bobbi. Melinda reached for her but Bobbi flinched away. They didn’t want her, they didn’t want her, they didn’t —

She bolted upright, muffling a sob into her fist.

Bobbi flailed until she found her bedside table’s drawer, jerking it open and sticking her hand inside. She’d been carefully collecting all of her family’s notes there, and she needed to read them now, to remind herself that they wanted her.

But the drawer was empty. Bobbi pinched herself. This had to be part of the dream. Everything about how much her family loved her couldn’t have just disappeared! But she didn’t wake up again, nor did the notes materialize.

Her eyes burned. Bobbi scooped up Pàng and slid out of bed, unsure where she was going until she was there.

Bobbi opened the door of her parents’ bedroom slowly, but stopped before she could open it enough to go through. This was ridiculous. She was seventeen and she was acting like she was seven, standing outside her parent’s door with a stuffed animal against her chest. She’d had a nightmare, and that was that. Her parents needed sleep, not to be interrupted in the middle of the night by a child who was old enough to know better.

“Bobbi?”

She froze. Had Melinda really woken up just because the door opened a crack?

“Come here, baby.”

Bobbi’s feeble resolve to go back to her bed and ignore the nightmare crumbled in the face of her mother’s voice, quiet but insistent. She pushed the door ajar just enough to slip through, padding over to her mother’s side of the bed still holding Pàng tight.

“Is everything okay?” Melinda asked, sitting up so it was easier for her to look Bobbi in the eye, the moonlight slipping in through the crack in the curtains.

“I had a nightmare,” Bobbi said, voice small. “And when I looked for my sticky notes they were gone and I’m scared.”

“Oh, honey.” Melinda threw back her covers and climbed out of bed. Bobbi was expecting a hug, but instead Melinda brushed past her and went… into the closet?

“We were going to give this to you tomorrow,” Melinda said, emerging from the closet with a neatly-wrapped gift in her hands, “but I think it’s better you have it now.”

Bobbi tucked Pàng under her armpit so she could accept the gift. She glanced wordlessly over to where Phil was still sleeping soundly, and Melinda chuckled. “He sleeps like the dead, but if you want to go downstairs, we can.”

Bobbi nodded, adjusting Pàng’s placement so he was sitting on top of the box. Melinda smiled when she saw the panda, reaching over and adjusting him so he wasn’t sitting lopsided. They made their way out of the bedroom and down the stairs, and Melinda flicked on the kitchen lights while Bobbi sat at the kitchen table.

“I think Dad wanted to give a big speech, but I’m not very good at speeches.” Melinda slid into the seat next to Bobbi’s. “So why don’t you just open it?”

Bobbi wrangled Pàng into her lap, then carefully peeled back the layer of brown craft paper wrapping the gift.

Inside was a thick periwinkle scrapbook not unlike the one Hunter had given her for Christmas. On the cover, in whimsical white letters, was her name: Bobbi Coulson. She’d decided to keep Morse in her legal name out of sentimentality and practicality, but didn’t mind being called Bobbi Coulson, especially not by her family.

She didn’t linger long on the cover, too eager to see what was inside.

Tears sprang to her eyes when she read the simple writing on the first page: For Bobbi. Welcome home. Everyone had signed it, and Bobbi took a moment to trace the familiar strokes of Melinda’s neatly printed Mom.

Any hopes she had of not blubbering her way through the entire scrapbook were obliterated when she saw the first page. On it was the very first note anyone in her family had ever written her — not when she knew she was going to be adopted, but the note Kora had written her on her first day at the new school. Have a great day! with a little smiley face underneath it.

This answered the question of where all her notes had gone. Amidst all the pictures of her and her family, every happy memory she had made in the last nine months, were the words they had written her assuring her she was loved, she was wanted, and she was a part of this big, crazy family.

A wet chuckle burbled out when she saw a page that Trip had made. There weren’t any pictures of the two of them together, so he had substituted a crude doodle of two stick figures that could possibly be them, if you squinted. Also on his page was a short note in a different handwriting that Bobbi guessed was Gabe’s, since Robbie didn’t strike her as the kind of person to draw a flaming car under the pun You’re wheely great!

“How did you do all this without me knowing?” Bobbi asked, carefully flipping through the spreads. She hadn’t realized how many pictures of her there were now, nor how many sticky notes her family had left her in the month since her parents had announced her adoption.

“Science Olympiad practices,” Melinda shrugged. “Going to see Hunter. Other times you were out of the house.”

“Thank you,” Bobbi said, looking up from the picture of her and Daisy lazing on the porch swing together. “For this, and for… everything.”

“You’re welcome, for everything,” Melinda answered. “I can’t wait to sign the paper that makes you mine forever, you know that?”

Melinda reached for her, and instead of the horrific hand attached to the blank face of her nightmare, it was her mother’s hand and her mother’s face that looked back at her — familiar, warm, inviting.

I want you.

“I know,” Bobbi struggled to get out. “I just want it to be done.”

“Only a few more hours,” Melinda promised.

A few more hours. Bobbi could wait a few more hours for forever to begin.

---

“Are you sure this is okay?” Bobbi asked one more time as the car rolled to a stop.

“Of course it’s okay, kiddo,” Phil said, pulling the key out of the ignition. “Anyone who doesn’t want to can stay in the car, no questions asked.”

Even with that assurance, a veritable crowd of people appeared on the soft spring grass as one-by-one the Coulson family filed out of the three different vehicles they had taken to visit the cemetery.

“It’s right over here,” Bobbi said, leading her new family to, at long last, meet her old family.

A fresh bouquet of flowers lay between the two headstones, and Bobbi didn’t need to ask to know Elena had laid them there before coming to the courthouse for the adoption ceremony.

“Um.” Bobbi swallowed hard. She had wanted to say something, to introduce her biological parents to her adoptive ones, but she wasn’t much good at the whole talking to dead people thing.

“Your father’s name is Robert,” Phil said, drawing close to Bobbi and putting his hand on her shoulder. “I didn’t know that.”

“I didn’t know how to tell you,” Bobbi said softly. It hadn’t seemed right to talk about her other father when Phil had been giving her pieces of him she hadn’t had before.

“That’s okay.” Phil squeezed her shoulder.

The birds chirped in the trees overhead, but it was a little less strange to be in the cemetery now that she had done it twice.

“I’m sorry,” Bobbi murmured. “I thought I was going to have something to say and now I’ve just made everything depressing.”

“It’s not depressing,” Daisy stepped up to Bobbi’s otherwise, threading their fingers together. “It’s kind of peaceful. I like it.”

“I like it too,” Fitz said, clearing his throat as he also shuffled closer to Bobbi. “It’s nice to meet them.”

“I wish you had gotten to meet them in person,” Bobbi said. “I think they would have really liked you.” She didn’t remember much about her parents anymore, but she did remember that they had always encouraged her curiosity and her love for science. They would’ve liked Fitz and his voracious reading and his love of engineering. “They would have liked all of you.” Her voice cracked, and Daisy squeezed her hand impossibly tight.

Of all the things to mourn about her parents not being alive, Bobbi never thought she would’ve mourned that her parents would never get to meet the people she now called Mom and Dad, brothers and sisters. Maybe if Mack was right and there was a heaven, someday she would get that — everyone she loved able to sit at a kitchen table together, talking and laughing while sunlight dripped through an open window and birds sang their morning songs.

Maybe someday, but not today.

---

“You okay, kiddo?” Phil asked after everyone else had gone back into the house to get ready for Bobbi’s adoption party.

“Did I ruin it?” Bobbi asked quietly.

“Ruin what?”

“Today.”

“Oh, sweetheart.” Phil unbuckled his seatbelt, leaning across the center console to pull Bobbi into an awkward but much-needed hug. “You didn’t ruin anything. Your parents are the people who made you, and I love you, so I love them.” He pressed a kiss to Bobbi’s cheek. “Meeting your dad didn’t make me feel like the decision we made today was any less important or special. If anything, it makes me take this commitment even more seriously. Because you’re mine now, but you were someone else’s first, and I want to respect the beautiful young woman they created.”

“Good,” Bobbi said, holding Phil a little tighter. “I didn’t want to ruin it.”

“You never could,” Phil promised, drawing back from her. “You know why?”

“Why?”

“Because.” Phil affected a soft, wheezing voice, as if he was breathing through a respirator… or maybe a mask. “Bobbi… I am your father.”

The last of her gloom was chased away by Phil’s lopsided grin. He looked so pleased with himself and the joke he had made that it was impossible not to be happy looking at him and knowing he was her dad now and for the rest of her life.

“You’re not going to turn all evil, right?” Bobbi asked, eyes sparkling.

“I don’t know. I think I could rock a leather jacket. And I could give myself a cool nickname. Like… Sarge.”

“That’s not a cool nickname, Dad.”

“You do keep me humble, you know that, kiddo?” Phil cracked another smile. “C’mon. We have a party to get ready for.”

---

The Coulson’s backyard felt smaller than it ever had, packed full of the people Bobbi loved. Everyone who had been invited to the adoption party had showed up — except Wàipó, whose plane had been canceled at the last minute. Airports in the D.C. metro area were a dime a dozen, but none of them had had a flight to Cincinnati that would make it in time. It made Bobbi a little sad, but she was trying to focus on everyone else who had gotten to attend.

“I missed you.” A pair of warm arms circled her waist, and Bobbi relaxed back into Hunter’s embrace.

“You saw me an hour ago,” Bobbi said, tracing her thumb over his knuckles. Hunter and his family had attended the adoption ceremony, as promised, but had gone back home to change afterwards. Hunter and Idaho didn’t want to be in their stiffly pressed suits for a minute longer than necessary. Bobbi was just touched they had worn suits in the first place.

“But I missed you,” Hunter whispered, kissing the shell of her ear.

“Are you trying to scandalize everyone?” Bobbi laughed breathily. It wasn’t really all that scandalous, her boyfriend holding her and kissing her, but it felt so much more public now than it ever had before, even though they were tucked in a corner of the backyard. A part of Bobbi squirmed. Was everything fine because they were fine now, or was everything fine because they were in public? Hunter had said he wanted to talk more, but they hadn’t talked, and…

“I’m just trying to remind everyone that even though you have a shiny new name, you still belong to me.” Hunter kissed her ear again. “In an entirely non-piggish way.”

“Thank you, I was beginning to worry you’d turned into an asshole since we last spoke.” She forced her voice into levity, though the annoying squirming in her chest settled somewhat at his words. He wouldn’t say that if they weren’t fine, would he?

“Well I’ve always been an arsehole. Just not that kind of arsehole.”

“I love that you insist upon using British words, you know that?”

“I did not, but now I’m about to get a hundred times more annoying with it,” Hunter laughed. He settled his chin against her shoulder, pausing in his gentle kisses for the time being. “This is nice.”

“It’s nice,” Bobbi agreed. Seeing everyone she loved in one place was bizarre, but the good kind of bizarre. Anne and Trip were deep in conversation about Anne’s comic book, Fitz and Donnie Gill were talking about some engineering idea Donnie had dreamed up, and Kora had just appeared at the back door to show Izzy and Vic the patch she’d put on the leather jacket they’d given her. Cap weaved through all the people, begging for whatever food scraps he could get. Daisy was deep in conversation with Kara Palamas, but unlike all the other oddball pairings Bobbi hadn’t been able to hear a snippet of conversation or guess what they possibly had in common to talk about — other than her, which felt like a narcissistic assumption even if it was her party.

“Can you get me something to drink?” Bobbi asked, rubbing her thumb over the back of Hunter’s hand one last time before gently removing them from her waist.

“Your wish, my command.”

“I’m going to talk to Kara and Daisy. Feel free to interrupt whenever you get it,” Bobbi said. She offered Hunter a single chaste kiss before he trotted off to the refreshments table, leaving Bobbi to cross the lawn towards the most interesting conversation of the day.

“Thanks for coming,” Bobbi said to Kara as a way of inserting herself as unobtrusively as possible.

“Thanks for inviting me,” Kara answered easily. “That’s your boyfriend?” she asked, gesturing to where Hunter had been roped into a conversation by Phil and Melinda.

“Mm hmm.” Bobbi couldn’t help her smile when she looked at Hunter and how at ease he was talking to her parents. A part of her wanted to leave Daisy and Kara behind so she could join their conversation, but curiosity won out, at least for the moment.

“They’re disgusting,” Daisy sighed, not sounding disgusted at all.

“As an expert on disgusting relationships, I have to disagree,” Kara said. To Bobbi, she added, “You two seem very happy together.”

“We are,” Bobbi agreed. “It’s not without its hiccups, but we’re happy.” They still had so much to discuss, about Bobbi’s insecurities and Hunter’s and the letter from his mom, but… they were happy for now, and they had time to figure everything out.

Conversation lapsed, so Bobbi decided to be blunt. “How do you two know each other?”

“Oh.” Daisy hesitated, looking to Kara. Kara nodded encouragingly. “You remember how I told you before Daniel, I had a bad kind-of relationship?”

Bobbi nodded. “The one Mom got rid of.”

“Yeah,” Daisy agreed. “Kara, uh… I guess you could say she was the one who told me he needed to be gotten rid of in the first place.”

“I dated Grant in the past,” Kara put in smoothly. “It was not a healthy relationship and I didn’t like the idea of anyone else having to go through what he did to me. I told Daisy what I could to make sure she wouldn’t get hurt, and your mother did the rest to make sure no one would ever get hurt again.”

The fondness Bobbi felt for Kara multiplied a hundred-fold with just those few words. The idea of someone hurting Daisy hadn’t sat well with Bobbi even before she knew how much the younger girl meant to her, and now, being told her friend had protected her little sister when Bobbi wasn’t there to do it… Bobbi pulled Kara into a tight hug. She released quickly, realizing Kara might not like to be touched, but her friend only hesitated a moment before hugging Bobbi again, just as tightly.

It was a nice hug — the kind of hug that didn’t feel good for any particular reason other than that it was being shared with someone Bobbi cared about.

“Are you… are you okay?” Bobbi asked awkwardly. She knew Daisy was better now, and had moved on from the almost-relationship, but she didn’t know anything about Kara’s love life and how completely (or not) it had been ruined by whoever this Grant person was.

“I’m fine,” Kara assured her. “I found someone much better than Grant.” At Bobbi’s questioning look, she smiled and said, “I found myself.”

“I’m happy for you,” Bobbi said. “If you ever want to talk about it — either of you —” she glanced back to Daisy, who offered a grim half-smile “— you know I’m here.”

“Of course.” Kara looked over Bobbi’s shoulder, then laughed. “You might want to go rescue your boyfriend.”

“Uh oh.” Bobbi turned to see Hunter turning an impressive shade of red while her mother laughed at him.

She started making her way across the lawn, but before she could reach them, Bobbi was distracted by the slam of a car door and —

“Wàipó!” Bobbi broke into a run, scooping her grandmother into a hug.

“Hello, wǒ de qiǎo,” Lian said, patting Bobbi’s back. “I’m sorry I’m late.”

“No, I — I’m just glad you’re here,” Bobbi said. She released her grandmother, cheeks aching from the wide smile on her face.

“Mom!” Melinda said breathlessly, stopping beside Bobbi. “What are you doing here?”

“I was not going to miss the adoption of my last granddaughter,” Lian answered. “Is that alright? I’m sorry I didn’t call.”

“No, it’s fine,” Melinda said. “We’ll have to do some shuffling to make sure you have a bed —”

“Can I have a sleepover with Daisy?” Bobbi asked excitedly. She was allowed to do that now!

“Can we, Mom?” Daisy materialized on Bobbi’s other side. “Please please please?”

“You two can sleep together in Bobbi’s room,” Melinda agreed. “Mom, now that you’re here, do you want to take some photos?”

“Photos sound nice, Mellie,” Lian agreed, “but please don’t change your plans on my account.”

“It’s fine,” Bobbi said. “It’s our first family photo!”

“Do you need me to take it?” Hunter asked, shuffling over to the assembled Coulsons.

“My camera is on the table, if you could grab it, Hunter,” Melinda instructed. “We would love for you to take some photos. Bobbi, why don’t you get your friends to take photos with them, too?”

“Okay!” Bobbi paused when the realization she was bouncing washed over her. She was Bobbi Morse — she didn’t bounce.

But she was also Bobbi Coulson, and apparently Bobbi Coulson was a bouncer.

She wondered who else Bobbi Coulson was — but she had her whole life to find out.

Chapter Text

“Remind me again why we’re taking so many AP classes,” Bobbi asked. She massaged her temples in the vain hope it would stop the page in front of her from swimming.

“Because we’re idiots,” Anne answered, pressing the heels of her hands into her eyes. “There’s no other explanation. We have absolutely no common sense, or we would’ve thought to ourselves, doesn’t taking five four-hour-long exams in the span of two weeks sound kind of hellish?”

“To be fair, I was put in AP classes against my will,” Bobbi said. It had been a choice not to transfer out, though, so maybe she was just as senseless as Anne.

“I can’t use that excuse, so I’m just going to pretend you were willing and we’re both less smart than we like to think we are,” Anne said. She groaned, leaning back in her seat. “I don’t think I can look at another paper without wanting to rip it in half.”

“We don’t want that,” Bobbi said, shutting her textbook, then reaching over to shut Anne’s as well so it wouldn’t be a victim of her wrath. “We deserve a break anyways.”

“We do,” Anne agreed. “But what do we do?”

Bobbi considered. Apparently, all of their hobbies involved books or school. Huh. That probably wasn’t healthy.

“Normally when I take a break I bother my sister,” Bobbi said, running a hand down her face. “But you don’t have any sisters to bother.”

“I do not,” Anne agreed. She was an only child, which was honestly part of the reason they had decided to study at Anne’s house and not Bobbi’s. The other reason was that they were both used to studying there thanks to their many Science Olympiad meetings held in the basement. It was a familiar, quiet environment… but Bobbi still found herself missing home.

“We could… bake a cake?”

“As long as we promise not to make any of our baking about chemistry,” Anne said. “This is just to have something sweet to eat.”

“I can agree to that,” Bobbi laughed. “Though my mom would probably say I don’t need any more sweets.” There had been plenty of cake and cookies leftover from her adoption party that the family was not-so-slowly working their way through.

“What she doesn’t know won’t hurt her,” Anne said crisply.

“This is what I like about you,” Bobbi said. “You project so much competence that people don’t realize you’re actually chaotic as hell.”

“And you project so much chaos that people don’t realize you’re actually competent as hell,” Anne retorted. “You know, scratch that. You don’t even project chaos. Just…”

“Chaos,” Bobbi chuckled. “It’s fine. I know I haven’t always been the most… settled.”

“You are now, though,” Anne said.

“Settled just in time to uproot myself for school,” Bobbi sighed. “Aren’t you worried about going so far away?”

“Massachusetts isn’t really that far,” Anne argued, standing from the sofa and stretching. Bobbi followed her lead, trailing behind her friend up the stairs and into the kitchen. “You can still drive there.”

“You can drive from here to Central America if you really wanted to. That doesn’t mean it’s easy or quick.”

“True.” Anne opened the door to the pantry, poking around in search of a box cake mix. “I guess we’re just different like that. I want to go out and try new things because my life’s always been kind of… boring. You want to stay close to home because you like the stability after being unstable for so long.”

“Do you ever wonder how we ended up friends?” Bobbi asked. Sometimes she thought she and Anne seemed so different, apart from their shared love of science and curiosity for the world around them.

“Not really,” Anne answered, letting out a small noise of triumph when she found the box she was looking for. Bobbi checked the expiration date, but chose not to comment when she saw it had passed three days ago. A boxed cake mix would never last that long in the Coulson house, so it was strange to see those things even could expire, but an extra three days wouldn’t kill them.

“I don’t tend to worry about things I don’t want to change,” Anne said, opening the refrigerator door to fish out the milk and eggs the back of the box called for. “I know that I like you, and I know that you like me, so how we figured out we liked each other doesn’t matter that much.”

“That is very pragmatic of you,” Bobbi admitted. “I guess it’s just kind of scary to think that maybe we’re just friends because we happened to be in the right place at the right time, and once we’re both off at college we won’t talk anymore.”

“You could argue that any friendship is being in the right place at the right time,” Anne said. “Otherwise it’s kind of… creepy. Hey, I showed up at your house because I’ve heard about you and I want to be your friend!”

Bobbi stifled a laugh into her hand. It amazed her, sometimes, how differently everyone could see the world. One of her great fears was something that Anne didn’t even seem to think about (though that was probably true of a lot of her fears). If Bobbi had to guess, Anne was afraid of things Bobbi didn’t think about, either. It wasn’t a mark against either of them — just the way of the world.

“Just promise me we’ll stay friends even when you’re off being the smartest person ever at MIT?”

Anne set down the rubber spatula she had gotten for mixing the cake, looking Bobbi in the eyes. “I promise that no matter what happens at MIT, I’ll still remember this year and our friendship. Even if I meet other people and become friends with them, you’ll always be my partner-in-crime for senior year.”

“Good,” Bobbi said. “You were my first real best friend, you know?”

Anne smiled. “Yeah. I know.”

---

“Mo-om?” Bobbi asked, poking her head out of her bedroom just far enough to see if anyone was lurking in the hallway.

“Yes, baby?” Melinda stepped out of her own bedroom, book in hand.

“Are we doing anything for lunch?” She had been locked away in her room the whole day studying, and she was hungry. Sometimes on the weekends Phil and Melinda liked to do something other than sandwiches for lunch, and Bobbi would rather not make herself a sandwich and miss out.

“You are.”

Bobbi figured the change of wording had to be intentional. “I am?” she repeated.

“You are,” Melinda agreed cryptically.

The doorbell rang.

“I don’t suppose that has anything to do with my lunch?”

“Why don’t you go see?” Melinda suggested.

Daisy ended up getting to the front door before Bobbi did, so Hunter was already waiting inside, picnic basket on his arm and smile on his face.

“Did we have plans?” Bobbi asked, blinking owlishly at her boyfriend.

“I thought maybe you’d like a break from studying.” He lifted the picnic basket up. “With me?”

A part of Bobbi wanted to say no, that she needed to get back to her exam prep, but… she’d been doing nothing but studying for what felt like years. Between AP exams and Science Olympiad finals, she’d spent every waking moment trying to shovel information into her brain and praying it stayed there long enough to be used. What was the harm of a picnic?

“Sounds great,” she agreed. “Daisy, can you tell Mom and Dad where I went?”

“Depends, do I get picnic leftovers?”

“Yes, you can have picnic leftovers,” Bobbi laughed. She doubted Daisy passing on a message would even be necessary, since Melinda apparently knew Hunter was coming, but Bobbi wasn’t above a bit of bribery. Besides, if there were no leftovers, then she didn’t break her promise.

“Bye Bobbi, bye teacup!”

“You use a nickname once and your sisters just never let go of it,” Bobbi remarked to Hunter when he opened the front door and ushered her outside.

“I think they just like the British-ness of it all,” Hunter said.

“If you want me to get them to stop —”

“It’s fine, Bob.” Hunter glanced over at her, smiling. “I like that they feel comfortable teasing me.”

“Me, too.” Bobbi slid into the passenger seat of Hunter’s car, taking the picnic basket from him and balancing it on her lap. “They see you as their family, you know,” she said when Hunter took his place in the driver’s seat.

“I hoped so,” Hunter said. He paused for a long moment — he wanted Bobbi to think it was because he was fiddling with the ignition and pulling the car out of the driveway, but he’d happily chatted through those same motions a hundred times before. She waited for him to collect himself, though she still ended up surprised when he spoke again. “I consider myself a part of the Coulson family too, I guess. And I’m glad it’s not weird that I do.”

“It’s not,” Bobbi promised. “I mean, I’m your moms’ favorite child. It wouldn’t be very fair if I was allowed to be a part of your family but you weren’t allowed to be a part of mine.”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about why I was so upset that you were upset over my mum’s letter,” Hunter began. He looked over at her for permission to continue, and Bobbi nodded. They needed to talk about it, and the sooner the air was clear the sooner they could enjoy their picnic. “I was thinking maybe it’s because I forgot that she wasn’t your mum, too. And I wanted you to be excited because she was yours as much as she was mine, but… she wasn’t. You had a mum and you lost her and I knew that, but I think the reality of it was hard to swallow.”

“That makes sense,” Bobbi said, carefully neutral so she wouldn’t betray the rapid pounding of her heart. “We never really talked about… that.”

“It was never easy to talk about. Reckon it still isn’t,” Hunter said. “The letter opened up a lot, for both of us, and I… wasn’t ready for that.”

“I wasn’t, either,” she admitted. She still found it bizarre how the littlest things could make the biggest waves, how one innocuous piece of paper could reveal so much about her boyfriend, herself, and their relationship. How it could make her doubt so much of once she had once known to be true as much as she knew the sun would set in the evening and rise in the morning.

“I’m glad that we talked about it, though,” Hunter offered hesitantly. “I mean, I want to work on it.”

“Yeah,” Bobbi agreed, because she didn’t have anything better to say. Would working on it help? She wanted it to, but a part of her wondered if everything they’d uncovered was better left buried.

They rode in silence until they got to the park, and it was Hunter who spoke first as they walked from the parking lot to a nearby patch of grass.

“Your mum said you’ve been stressed about exams.”

“Yeah.” Bobbi wasn’t able to muster a better response than that.

Hunter stopped, dropping her hand. “Are you okay, Bob? Because we don’t have to do this if you don’t want to.”

“I’m fine.”

“You don’t seem fine,” he pushed.

“I’m fine,” Bobbi repeated, hating that he could see through her so easily. “I just — let’s eat lunch,”

Hunter nodded, taking the basket from her wordlessly. He opened the top and handed her the picnic blanket — classic red gingham that made Bobbi smile despite herself as she spread it on the ground — before scooping something else out and shoving it in his pocket.

Bobbi glared at him. “What was that?”

“What was what?”

“You just put something in your pocket.”

“No I didn’t!” Hunter’s voice raised half an octave as he was caught in an obvious lie.

“Just show me what you put in your pocket,” Bobbi said, crossing her arms.

“I guess I should probably tell you I had an ulterior motive with the picnic.” Hunter withdrew his hand from his pocket, revealing a black velvet box sitting in his palm.

“That’s not —”

“Not the way you think, no,” Hunter assured her before her panic could rise too high. “I was just thinking about what you said about worrying about me leaving you and I thought it was a good idea at the time but — it’s stupid. Never mind.”

“So if it’s not that,” Bobbi said slowly, “what is it?”

“I don’t know what you’d call it. Some people say promise ring but I don’t like that all that much.” Hunter sighed. “It was a stupid idea, okay? We can just drop it.”

“Can I see it?” Bobbi didn’t have the heart or the energy to argue with Hunter’s self-deprecation, but she hoped asking to see the ring would at least let him know she didn’t think the idea was a bad one. He was probably right that now wasn’t the right time, but Bobbi wanted to know regardless.

Hunter handed the box over. Bobbi opened it, taking the ring out to examine it. Rather than a single golden band, it was two thinner bands joined by charms in the shape of the sun, moon, and stars. Each of the stars had a tiny diamond in the center and the ring sparkled beautifully in the sunlight. Bobbi resisted the urge to slide the ring onto her finger, tucking it back into the box instead.

“Can I keep it?” she asked through the lump in her throat.

“I got it for you, so, yeah, if you want it.” Hunter cleared his throat. “It doesn’t have to mean anything.”

“I don’t know what I want it to mean,” Bobbi confessed. Life was hurtling forward at an unprecedented pace – she was adopted now, any day she would get to meet the newest member of the family, she was going off to college… Could she add an engagement, or even a promise of an engagement, on top of that?

“That’s okay.” Hunter looked down at the picnic blanket. “Do you still want to do lunch?”

Bobbi studied Hunter, wishing she could take away all their uncertainty. She couldn’t, though, not without lying to him, and she’d promised she wasn’t going to do that. There was one thing she could do to make it better, though, and it was something she wanted to do.

“Yeah,” she said, sitting on the blanket with a weak attempt at a smile. “Let’s do lunch.”

---

When Bobbi got home from the picnic, she went to the backyard rather than go inside. She needed more time to herself to process everything, and she was never guaranteed alone time in the house.

Unfortunately, she wasn’t guaranteed alone time outside of the house, either. When she got to the backyard Melinda was on the grass, doing tai chi. Bobbi considered sneaking back around and going on a walk of the neighborhood, but she still had Hunter’s ring box in her hand and it didn’t seem right to go on a walk while holding it. Instead she settled onto the porch swing, sitting and watching her mother’s fluid movements.

Bobbi wished she had the patience and steadiness necessary for tai chi. She’d tried it more than once, but it had never felt natural or calming to her — just stiff and awkward and stressful. It wasn’t unpleasant to watch, though, the slow motions oddly calming, like watching fish swim through a fish tank.

Either Melinda had already been close to finishing her workout or she cut it short, because a minute later she came to join Bobbi on the porch swing. She didn’t ask what was wrong, which Bobbi appreciated. It was easier just to rest her head on her mother’s shoulder and curl her legs up underneath her and let the tears drip slow and steady down her cheeks.

“I might break up with Hunter,” Bobbi said, voice wobbling.

“Why’s that?” Melinda asked. She seemed surprised, but why wouldn’t she be? Bobbi had had so much hope that she and Hunter would be able to work things out, and she’d gone on the picnic with him, and they were Bobbi and Hunter. They didn’t break up.

“There’s just so much we have to consider now that we didn’t have to consider before,” Bobbi said, swallowing hard. “We’ve never really looked at our relationship that hard, because it was too important to both of us to do anything that would put it in jeopardy. And now we’re looking at us, and I don’t know if we’re going to like what we’re going to find.” Bobbi sniffled hard, wiping angrily at her eyes. “He’s the only one who can break my heart, Mom. And I don’t — I can’t —”

Melinda wrapped her arm around Bobbi’s shoulders, rubbing up and down Bobbi’s arms and murmuring sweet nothings in Mandarin while the tears spilled out.

“I didn’t even think that the whole thing with his mom and the letter would be that big of a deal but it was, and he tried to explain why he felt the way he did and it was just — it was too scary, and I shut down, and I ruined the nice thing he was trying to do for me and he wants to marry me and I thought I wanted to marry him and he was supposed to be easy and…”

Bobbi choked on another sob, all too aware of how little sense she was making but unable to marshal her thoughts into anything resembling coherency. “Just when I get you I’m going to lose him and it’s going to be all my fault.”

“I think you might be jumping to conclusions, baby,” Melinda murmured, continuing to rub Bobbi’s arm soothingly. “Assuming you’re going to find something awful about the person you love sounds more like trauma talking than Bobbi talking.”

“Maybe I’m more trauma than Bobbi, then,” she snuffled. “I just don’t understand why this had to happen as soon as I finally had you. It’s like I’m only allowed to have one good thing at a time.”

“Andrew — Dr. Garner — told me once that healing from our pasts is a lot like reorganizing a library,” Melinda said. “Before you can reorganize everything you have to pull all the books from the shelves so you can see what you have to work with. It’s why a lot of the time things seem to get worse before they get better — because when the books are on the shelves you can’t see all of the ones with torn covers or water stains or missing pages. As soon as you take them out you can see all of the ways they aren’t what you expected, and that can be scary. Even if all your books are in perfect condition, the library still looks a mess while there are piles of books everywhere and you have to figure out how to organize them.” Melinda squeezed Bobbi’s shoulder gently. “I think maybe Hunter’s letter caused a bit of an earthquake in your shared library. Books fell off the shelves when you didn’t mean them to, and now you have to decide whether you want to pull everything down and reorganize, try to shove things back in the places they were, or leave the library altogether.”

“He tried to give me this ring,” Bobbi said, holding up the box she had been cradling in her hands.

“It appears he succeeded in giving it to you.”

Bobbi chuckled despite herself. “Yeah.”

“Maybe that’s his way of saying he’s up for the challenge of reorganizing,” Melinda suggested. “It’s okay if you’re not, though. You just went through a major renovation of your personal library, and everyone would understand if you don’t have the time or the energy to go through it again.”

“But…” Bobbi struggled to find an appropriate way to relate what she was feeling to Melinda’s metaphor. “Some of my favorite books are in this library.”

“That doesn’t always mean you have to reorganize it,” Melinda said. “You can just take the ones that are worthwhile and move them to your own library.”

“But I don’t want to,” Bobbi said. “I just feel like… I have to.”

“Because?”

“Because Hunter never picked the easy way out when it came to me,” Bobbi said. He had been by her side through the hardest times of her life, and now she was bailing when he was going through something? That wasn’t fair. “It would make me a bad person if I gave up on him as soon as I had to do something hard for once.”

“One choice can’t make you a bad person,” Melinda corrected gently. “If you’re just staying with him because you’d feel guilty breaking up, that’s not healthy for either of you.”

“It’s more fear than guilt,” Bobbi said. “Like I said, he could break my heart. He could realize I’m not good at any of the hard stuff and leave me.” And realize he would. She had barely done any of the reorganization of her own library; she’d had a horde of librarians by her side in the form of her family and friends and therapist. Her library with Hunter would just be the two of them, and that was scary.

“It doesn’t seem like that’s what he’s trying to do,” Melinda said, ever level-headed. “What would you do if you weren’t afraid of him leaving?”

“Stay with him,” Bobbi sniffed. It’s what she had done before the Coulsons, and what she had believed for a long time was a fact of her life: she would stay with Hunter, and he would stay with her. But wasn’t that the problem – that this was how it had always been? That they were clinging to something that might be awful just because it was familiar?

Bobbi supposed that was where the reorganization came in. If she stopped shying away from being afraid of what she’d find… maybe she’d find out that she loved Hunter for more reasons than she thought – more reasons than her fear was telling her she loved him for.

“Then I think you have your answer.” Melinda kissed her forehead softly. “It’s okay to be afraid, baby. But you have to let it go —”

“— or it’ll eat me alive,” Bobbi finished. Melinda had told her this before, when Bobbi had first been put into therapy. And yes, the therapy had helped, but with only an hour a week, Bobbi could only cover so much.

Bobbi burrowed into Melinda’s side, wrapping her arms around her mother’s waist. Melinda began rocking the porch swing back and forth with the tips of her toes, and Bobbi’s eyes slipped shut. She could fall asleep like this, safe in her mother’s arms as the porch swing creaked beneath them and the spring breeze tugged at her hair, begging her to let her worries go.

She could fall asleep, but she wouldn’t.

At least not on purpose.

Chapter Text

Bobbi should have been sleeping. The final Science Olympiad competition was the next morning and she always did better when she had a full night’s sleep (as everyone did).

She should have been sleeping, but instead Bobbi was rooting through a closet full of miscellaneous artifacts of a bygone age, looking for a boombox. Phil had sworn he’d kept one but had gotten so excited by unearthing his tape collection that he’d left Bobbi to find it on her own.

“Ah ha!” Bobbi’s hand closed around the handle and she grunted with the effort of pulling the boombox out of the pile of debris. It probably would’ve made more sense not to go through the trouble of finding an actual boombox, but she was nervous about what she was going to do, and the convoluted setup helped her procrastinate in an acceptable way.

“Found it?” Phil asked, appearing with a cardboard box full of tapes.

“Yeah.” Bobbi lugged the boombox over to the kitchen table, sending up a cloud of dust when she set it down.

“Do you know how to use one of these things?” Phil teased. “You know, that little triangle is play…”

“Very funny, Dad,” Bobbi huffed. “I’ll figure it out.”

“I know you will,” Phil said. “My daughter is a Science Olympiad champion, you know.”

“Your daughter is not a Science Olympiad champion,” Bobbi corrected. And she might never be since she’s going to her boyfriend’s house in the middle of the night instead of resting before the most important competition of the year.

“She’s a champion in my heart.”

“Ew.”

“I’m trying to be supportive, kiddo, cut me some slack.” Phil set his box of tapes next to the boombox, rifling through them until he found what he was looking for. “I think you’ll like track four on this one.”

Bobbi took the tape, eyebrows raising at the neatly-written label. “Melinda 45. Did you really make Mom forty-five mix tapes?”

“No,” Phil scoffed. “I made her one hundred thirty-six.”

Bobbi resisted the urge to facepalm, instead squinting at the track list beneath the tape title. Do You Believe in Love - Huey Lewis & the News. “I have never heard of Huey Lewis.”

“Which is a shame for your entire generation,” Phil said. “One of the best songs of ‘82.”

“I’ll take your word for it.” Bobbi opened the tape deck, pulling out the tape already inserted. She handed it to her father, and he lit up.

“I’ve been looking for this for years!”

“I’m glad to help,” Bobbi said. “Where’s Mom?”

“Mom is right here,” Melinda said, entering the kitchen with a poster board. “I hope you know what monster you’ve unleashed, baby.”

“I’m beginning to see.” Bobbi laughed as Phil ignored them both in favor of looking through his tape collection. “Sharpie?”

“Right here,” Melinda said, putting the board and marker on the increasingly crowded kitchen table. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait?”

“He’s going to be at the competition tomorrow,” Bobbi said. “I want to do it before then.” She sat at the table, uncapping the marker so she could begin to make her admittedly-crude poster. If she’d had the idea sooner it would’ve been easier, but she’d been inspired after watching an old movie with Phil (his choice now that they had exhausted every Star Wars related franchise they could get their hands on) which left her with a tight timeline.

“Drive safe,” Melinda said, kissing Bobbi’s forehead gently. “We’ll wait up for you.”

“Thanks, Mama.” Bobbi looked up at her, smiling shakily. “You might want to have tissues ready.”

“No catastrophizing in this household,” Melinda chided. “Do you need help bringing everything to the car?”

“Yes, please.”

After loading the boombox and everything else she needed into the car, Bobbi sighed, shoving her hands into her pockets. Her fingertips brushed the box Hunter had given her and she took it out again. It had become a grounding object for her, something that she could touch and know everything was going to be okay.

“You’ll be fine,” Melinda assured her, pulling her into one last hug. “Drive safe.”

---

Bobbi threw another rock at the window, wincing when it bounced off the glass. She didn’t want to crack Hunter’s window, but she also wanted him to wake up already. She retrieved the rock and was about to throw it again when the window opened and Hunter’s head poked out.

“Bob?”

She answered by pressing play on the boombox and hefting it onto her shoulder, breathing a small sigh of relief when the opening chords began playing loud and clear. Hunter tilted his head in confusion, but by the time they reached the chorus — do you believe in love? do you believe it’s true? — he was grinning giddily down at her. Bobbi waited for the musical interlude to put the boombox down and lift her sign.

Hunter squinted down at her, the light spilling from his room the only illumination for the single word she’d written.

PROM?

He let out a laugh when he registered the word, withdrawing back into his room as the final chorus began playing. Thirty seconds later he jogged out the back door, still grinning like an idiot.

“Hi,” Bobbi said, punching the pause button and cutting off the last strains of music.

“Hi,” he repeated, looking from her to the sign to the boombox.

“You said I had to ask you to prom,” Bobbi said lamely. They both knew that wasn’t the only reason she’d shown up at his house close to midnight with a grand romantic gesture. Bobbi cleared her throat. It was much more difficult to declare her love in person than it seemed in the movies.

“Before I had my family I never felt safe enough to think about us or what we might be. I knew you made me happy and I knew I wanted us to be happy forever and that seemed to be enough. But then everything changed with the letter from your mom and — you’re right, that it was good for us to talk about. And you were right when you said then that I need to tell you how I’m feeling. So I want you to know that the idea of us working on our relationship is really, really scary for me. Not because I don’t think it’s worth doing but because I am still so afraid of losing you. I love you too much to lose you.” Bobbi swiped at her eyes. “But I’ve spent the last four years of my life trusting you more than anyone else and I don’t want that to stop now. So I’m sorry for being so uncertain and making something so big over what should’ve been a happy moment for you. I’m sorry that I avoided talking about what I was feeling, and I’m sorry that I didn’t appreciate your picnic as much as I should’ve.”

Bobbi withdrew the ring box from her pocket, holding it out to Hunter. “I love you. I want to promise to love you forever. It’s not a stupid idea, and I’m sorry I didn’t tell you that at the picnic.” She paused. “To be clear, I want you to ask me again to take your not-a-promise-ring.”

“I can do that.” Hunter blinked the shock off his face, taking the proffered ring box. “Shit. I don’t have a speech or anything.”

“You want to use the boombox?” Bobbi asked, huffing out a laugh.

“I can’t steal your idea.” Hunter flashed a smile. “Um. Thank you, for apologizing, even if I don’t think all of those things are necessarily things you need to apologize for. It’s okay that you’re afraid, and if you’re going to be afraid I guess I’m glad that it’s because you finally have a family you feel safe with. I don’t know what looking at us will find, but I hope that we find as many things we love as things we need to fix. Because even if there are things we could do better, I know there are also things we do great, and I want to keep those. I want to keep you, because you’re — well, you’re my stars.” He opened the ring box, once again presenting her with the celestial-themed ring. “And I’ll be your stars as long as you want me to be, Bob.”

“Forever,” Bobbi said firmly. “I want you forever.”

“You’ll have me forever.” Hunter took the ring out of the box, and Bobbi stuck out her hand so he could put it on.

“Fits perfectly,” she whispered, looking at him. “Sorry it took me so long to figure it out.”

“I’d rather have you take your time and accept it because you wanted it than accept it immediately because you felt like you had to,” Hunter said. He wound her fingers through hers and squeezed gently. “Maybe we can talk later about how we can have those relationship conversations without it being as scary for you?”

“That sounds great.” Bobbi paused. “Can I kiss you?”

“I would be a little disappointed if you didn’t.”

Bobbi pulled Hunter in, fitting her mouth against his. He tasted like toothpaste — probably because he’d already gotten ready for bed — but his lips were as gentle as ever, caressing her in a way only he knew how.

“I would ask you to come in, but… curfew.”

“My parents know I’m out,” Bobbi said before he could start fretting. “Do you really think I could find a boombox without their help?”

“You’re pretty resourceful,” Hunter answered, smiling. “I love that about you.”

“But even I need help sometimes,” Bobbi said. “My mom helped a lot, to make me realize why I was so weird about you and us.” It hadn’t been lost on Bobbi that even a few months ago she would’ve assumed Melinda would jump at the chance to break her and Hunter up. Instead she’d done the opposite, and helped Bobbi figure out how she and her boyfriend could stay together.

“I’m glad,” Hunter whispered. “You deserve that.”

“I deserve you,” Bobbi said. She deserved someone who loved her wholeheartedly, unabashedly, and that was Hunter. She deserved him the same way she deserved her family — and like she had fought to find her family, she would fight for Hunter, too.

“There is one thing, though,” Bobbi said.

“Hmm?”

“You never answered my question.” She pointed to her sign, abandoned on the grass. “Prom?”

“I would love to go to prom with you, Bobbi Coulson.” Hunter pulled her in for another soft kiss, and Bobbi wished she could spend the rest of the night in his backyard, kissing him. Unfortunately life had different plans.

“I’ll see you tomorrow?” Bobbi asked when they broke apart.

“Tomorrow,” Hunter agreed. “You’re going to do great.”

“Thanks, Hunter.” Bobbi resisted the urge to kiss him again, and again, and again. She needed to go home and get some sleep. He needed to get some sleep.

“One more for the road.” Hunter kissed the corner of her mouth quickly. “Tell your parents thanks for letting you break curfew for me.”

“Tell them yourself tomorrow,” Bobbi said. She squeezed Hunter’s hand one more time before dropping it. “Night, teacup.”

“Night, Bob.”

---

Bobbi turned the boombox on halfway through the car ride home when the car radio started playing nothing but ads. By the time she got home, she determined that Phil had surprisingly good taste in music (which she hadn’t known) and was an everlasting sap (which she definitely already knew). The music was still playing on low when she walked through the front door, and Bobbi fumbled with the pause button until she got it to stop.

“Hey, kiddo.” True to his word, Phil had stayed up for her. “Why’d you stop the music?”

“Didn’t want to wake anyone up,” Bobbi said.

Phil raised an eyebrow. Right. Daisy was still awake and both Fitz and Kora’s bedrooms were far enough from the den that they wouldn’t hear music at low volumes. Bobbi punched the play button, heart softening at the slow, nostalgic smile spreading over Phil’s face at the first few bars.

“I forgot how much I love this song,” her dad said. “There was one summer when we played it every day it was sunny out. Because, you know —”

“Walking on Sunshine,” Bobbi finished, smiling. She’d heard this one before, but the tape sounded different than the times she’d heard it on TV commercials. Maybe that was just the placebo effect, but she liked the tape better. “Must’ve gotten boring listening to the same song all the time.”

“Never,” Phil said. “We used to dance along to it. Not a very good song for slow dancing but we managed.” He turned to Bobbi, grinning as he held out his hand. “Dance with me?”

Bobbi took his hand, laughing when he pulled her closer to him.

“Used to think maybe you loved me, now I know that it’s true,” he crooned. Bobbi found herself shocked by the tears that sprang to her eyes, though at this point she didn’t know why she was surprised by her emotions blindsiding her. She was dancing in her living room with her dad, and he was singing about how much he loved her and she loved him. Of course she was going to feel something about it, especially since he hadn’t been her dad for all that long. Bobbi couldn’t even remember if she’d ever even heard Phil sing before. His singing voice was surprisingly gravelly, but exactly as warm as Bobbi would’ve expected from him. He was also a much better dancer than Bobbi would’ve guessed, swaying them effortlessly to the jovial beat.

Bobbi hummed the next few bars, yelping when Phil pushed her into a wild spin before pulling her back close to him.

“Should I tell Hunter he should be worried about you stepping on his toes during prom?” Phil asked, grinning.

“I’m fine at dancing!” Bobbi protested.

“Sure you are, kiddo.”

A flash of movement caught her eye, and Bobbi turned her head to find Melinda in the corner of the room, caught red-handed with her phone camera pointed at Bobbi and Phil.

“Come take your husband, Mom,” Bobbi said, ducking out of Phil’s grasp so she could shove Melinda into him. “He’s being mean to me.”

“Was not,” Phil said, but he didn’t protest any further when Melinda stepped into his grasp. Phil held her differently than he did Bobbi, his arm slipping around her waist and their fingers tangling together. Phil and Bobbi’s short bout of dancing had been bouncing and jovial, a celebration of all the happiness they’d brought each other since their unlikely meeting last year, but Phil and Melinda dancing was more… intimate. Romantic. Bobbi folded herself up on the couch, propping her chin on her knees as she watched them. They made Walking on Sunshine look like a song made for slow dancing, and Bobbi sighed contentedly.

“What was that for?” Melinda said, lifting her head off Phil’s shoulder.

“You guys are disgustingly in love,” Bobbi said, not unhappily. “It’s nice.”

“Gives you hope for the future?” Phil teased.

Bobbi shrugged. She didn’t really see herself and Hunter in Melinda and Phil. Sure, her parents had gotten married young, but it was… different. Bobbi had never seen them as broken, not the way she saw herself as broken. Hunter… Bobbi would never use the word broken to describe him when he was everything beautiful in her eyes, but he wasn’t as sure of himself as Phil was. Of course, since Phil was her dad there was a large chance she’d never get to see the moments when he faltered. Dads kept those things from their kids, for better or for worse.

“I think it mostly just gives me hope for now,” she said eventually. She had a good life, with parents who loved her and who she loved. Bobbi twisted the ring Hunter had put on her finger; fiddling with something soothed her.

“Don’t feel like you have to stay up just to watch some old people dance,” Melinda said lightly.

“But they’re my old people, and I like to watch them dance together,” Bobbi said.

“What happened to you’re not old, Phil?” Her dad asked, mock-affronted.

“You’re not old, Dad,” Bobbi smiled. “You’re classic.”

“Like a Corvette.”

“Like a red Corvette,” Bobbi agreed. “Or Huey Lewis songs.”

“I knew something good would come out of letting you break curfew.”

“You mean my happiness at figuring out my relationship with my boyfriend wasn’t enough of a benefit for you?” Bobbi challenged, barely able to keep a straight face.

“Eh. I think an appreciation for Huey Lewis will probably get you further in life.”

Bobbi shook her head fondly. “I’m going to bed. You kids don’t stay up too late. You still need to drive me places tomorrow.”

“We’ll go to bed eventually,” Melinda promised. “Good night, sweetheart.”

“Night, Mom. Night, Dad. Night, Boombox.”

---

“Thanks for inviting me to dinner, Mr. and Mrs. Coulson,” Anne said, straightening herself almost imperceptibly in her chair. Bobbi wanted to tell her to relax — it was just her family, and her family liked Anne! — but she understood how important it was to Anne to make a good impression on everyone she met. She wasn’t going to scold her friend for being polite.

“Of course,” Phil said, smiling broadly. “It’s not every day that good triumphs over evil and Shield High’s biggest rival is defeated.”

“The Academy isn’t evil,” Fitz grumbled from across the table.

“I believe Jemma Simmons is capable of murder,” Anne said seriously. With the way Jemma had glared at Team Shield when the winners of the Science Olympiad finals had been announced, Bobbi was inclined to agree with her.

“Fitz and Jemma are friends,” Bobbi informed Anne before her friend could say anything more damning than that.

Anne grimaced. “Sorry, Fitz.”

“You’re right,” Fitz said, setting the grease-stained diner menu down on the table with a gusty sigh. “Simmons likes winning. It’s probably killing her that she lost, and to Shield of all people.”

“You could’ve invited her to dinner with us,” Kora said.

“And force her to pretend she wasn’t upset for two hours?” Fitz asked, arching an eyebrow. Kora deflated. “I’ll give her a call when we get home. Maybe.” He scratched the back of his neck, considering his declaration before plowing onwards. “Tonight is about Bobbi. And, er, Anne,” he added hastily. Bobbi guessed it was strange for him to have his ex-tutor now be his sister’s best friend and the destroyer of his friend’s dreams of keeping the Academy’s Science Olympiad winning streak alive. He was trying, though, and that was all Bobbi could ask of him.

“We wouldn’t have won without Anne,” Bobbi said, puffing up proudly since Anne wouldn’t brag for herself. “She memorized the chemical properties of every element on the periodic table and all their weights. We saved so much time not having to figure all of those out on the chem question.”

Anne ducked her head. “I’m just glad that it was useful.”

“It really was,” Bobbi said earnestly. “And now MIT is going to know they made the best choice by letting you in.”

“MIT,” Phil said, suitably impressed. “Wow.”

“She also got offers from Harvard, Stanford, and Yale,” Bobbi said. “She’s amazing.“

“You’re not too bad yourself,” Anne said. “Those bio questions were tricky.”

Bobbi lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “I knew we’d get them.”

“That’s the kind of confidence I like to see,” Mack laughed.

“May I propose a toast?” Phil asked, raising his glass of Coca-Cola. “To Anne and Bobbi, heroes of Science Olympiad!”

“Dad,” Bobbi hissed, looking around the crowded restaurant in absolute mortification. “We’re not heroes!”

Phil looked over at her with soft blue eyes. “What if I said you were my hero?”

“I would say ew.” Bobbi wrinkled her nose.

“Good thing I didn’t say it then, huh?” Phil’s eyes twinkled. “Just thought it.”

“You’re the worst.”

Despite her protests Bobbi raised her glass, and secretly thanked whoever was listening that she had the best dad ever.

Chapter Text

“Mother.”

“Daughter?” Melinda asked from the other side of Bobbi’s bedroom door.

“Why are there two prom dresses in my bedroom?”

“No reason.”

“Mother.” Bobbi wished Melinda was on the same side of the door as her so she could give her mother her patented glare. “Answer the question.”

“Your sister suggested you might like to have a back-up option,” Melinda hedged.

Bobbi almost refused to wear the dress out of the principle of the thing. She twisted her ring nervously on her finger. She loved the dress she had picked, but someone had made an off-hand comment about the silver dress not matching the gold ring Hunter had given her, and she knew it was a silly thing to worry about, but…

Bobbi took the dark blue dress she had once rejected off its hanger and pulled it on, reaching behind herself to do up the zipper. The dress had been tailored — maybe they had used the measurements from the other dress? — and fit even better than it had the day she’d tried it on in the shop. Bobbi dropped her hand down to the cutout in the side, tracing her finger across the line of her appendectomy scar.

The scar had faded in the time between when they’d purchased the dresses and now, but it would never disappear completely. Bobbi spent longer than she’d like to admit standing there with her fingertips exploring the edge of the scar, as if by touching it she could somehow make it smaller, less pink, less intrusive.

The doorbell rang and Cap’s barking echoed through the house. Melinda’s footsteps padded away from the door, and Bobbi’s shoulders slumped. Would Melinda be disappointed if she went with the “safe” choice of the silver dress? Would Kora?

Would she, Bobbi, be disappointed in herself later?

Truthfully, she hadn’t given the debacle in the dressing room much thought since it happened. She’d made her choice and she’d had to live with it. Most of her day-to-day clothing didn’t expose her scar thanks to her school’s dress code, so it was a non-issue. Bobbi sighed, dropping her hands from her scar. She fretted for a moment before doing what she probably should’ve done from the start, and picked up her phone.

“Qiǎo?” Lian answered on the first ring. “I thought your mother said your prom was tonight.”

“It is,” Bobbi said thickly. “Did you know my mom got the dress I didn’t like?”

“I did,” Lian confirmed. “You’re upset.”

“I don’t know,” Bobbi said, swallowing hard. She didn’t want to cry, not when she had already put on her makeup, but it was hard to hold back everything she was feeling. “I — I’m not upset that she got it. I’m upset that no one told me and now I have to make this big decision when today’s already stressful and I feel like I’m going to make the wrong choice no matter which choice I make.”

“I’m sorry she did not tell you,” Lian said in the same level tone she always spoke with. “And I’m sorry you’re upset.”

“Thanks,” Bobbi sniffled. “I just… can you tell me what to do, Wàipó?”

“Why do you think I will know what to do?” Amusement curled through Lian’s voice.

“Because you knew what to say last time,” Bobbi said. “And someone must’ve taught Mom how to be Mom.”

“I think you are putting too much pressure on yourself,” Lian said simply. “It is an important night, but it is just one night. It is an important dress, but it is just one dress. You would not ask every dress you wear to be perfect. You would not ask every night you live to be perfect. So why must this one be?”

Bobbi didn’t have an answer to that.

“You say your scar reminds you of unhappy memories,” Lian said after a long pause. “It does not always have to be that way.”

“You mean wearing the dress might give me happy memories?”

“If you want it to,” Lian answered. “But if you do not want to, qiǎo, you do not have to. It is your night, not your mother’s or your sister’s. Do what you do for you.”

A knock came at the door. “Bob?”

“I have to go, Wàipó, Hunter’s waiting for me,” Bobbi said hastily. “Thank you. I love you.”

“Call me when you can, qiǎo.”

“Of course. Bye.”

Bobbi hung up the phone just before Hunter knocked again.

“Coming!” She opened the door, but her half-formed excuse for taking so long died when she saw Hunter in his suit. It was a different one than he’d worn for her adoption, more tightly-fitted to show off the breadth of his shoulders and the slimness of his hips. The black fabric was neatly-pressed and impossibly soft when Bobbi, on impulse, reached out to brush a hand down his arm.

“Wow. You look — wow,” Hunter stuttered, a perfect reflection of Bobbi’s own internal monologue.

“I — um —” This was ridiculous. She had seen him in a suit not a month ago and now she got tongue-tied? Bobbi tried to find something to say, but the best she could do was pull Hunter in for a kiss. It was only when her hand caressed his cheek that she realized he had shaved. No wonder he looked so different.

“My tie doesn’t match your dress,” Hunter blurted when they parted. “Sorry, that was dumb, I just —”

“Want tonight to be perfect?” Bobbi finished. Hunter nodded.

“I do, too.” Which was why she was going to wear the navy blue dress despite it putting her scar on display. She refused to allow her insecurities to beat her. The dress felt amazing and if Hunter’s reaction was anything to go by, it looked amazing, too.

“Why don’t we ask my dad if you can borrow a tie?” Bobbi suggested. “I would hate not to match.”

“Me too,” Hunter said. “Otherwise no one will believe you’re my date. Bloody hell, Bob. You look…” He once again found himself at a loss for words, and Bobbi smiled, pecking his cheek. A slack-jawed boyfriend did wonders for her confidence.

Ten minutes later everyone else in their prom party had arrived, but Phil still hadn’t been able to find a tie for Hunter. Bobbi was half-tempted to change back into her original dress just so she could match Hunter, but just as she was about to excuse herself to go upstairs and do just that, Phil came down with a perfect navy blue tie in hand.

“It was on the floor!” he told Bobbi as if he couldn’t quite believe it himself. “Who puts a perfectly good tie on the floor?”

“…You, apparently?” Bobbi asked, unsure how else she was supposed to answer. Phil chuckled.

“Here you go, Hunter.” Phil handed over the tie, and Hunter froze, ears pinkening.

“I, uh, don’t know how to do up a tie. My mums did this one.” Vic and Izzy were going to return any minute, but they’d forgotten their camera at home and of course had to turn around to get it for the myriad of pictures that were to come.

“Oh. Well in that case, allow me to teach you.” Phil helped Hunter loosen the knot on his silver tie, slipping it off over his head.

“There’s quite a few different knots, but Windsor is a classic and my go-to,” Phil narrated. “You want to make sure the skinny end is pretty short, and you’ll be using the other end for most of the knot.”

Ollie drifted over to the demonstration, and Bobbi shook her head, grabbing Ollie’s sloppily-knotted tie and undoing it so she could follow Phil’s instructions on their tie, too.

“They don’t teach tie-tying in non-binary school,” Ollie grumbled.

“They don’t teach it in cis-man school either, mate,” Hunter said before returning his focus to Phil’s hands and his detailed instructions in knot-tying.

“It’s not like either of you wear ties regularly,” Bobbi said, squeezing the knot as her father instructed while pulling Ollie’s tie snugly up against their throat. She turned Ollie’s collar back down and smoothed the slight wrinkle in their shirt before stepping back, satisfied with her handiwork.

“I’m good for at least one thing, and that one thing is looking sharp,” Phil said, brushing a lint fuzz off Hunter’s shoulder.

“Dad, you spend half your work day covered in archival paints.”

“And I look spiffy while covered in paint,” Phil said, smiling.

“I’m sure you do.” Bobbi patted his shoulder consolingly. “Ollie, does Tomas’s tie look alright?”

“I am sure we will hear about it if it’s not,” Ollie snickered.

“Honestly, Ollie,” Bobbi sighed. They still hadn’t gotten over Tomas and Anne being together and were liable to poke fun at the pair at any occasion. Ollie had been subjected to the couple’s bickering for much longer than Bobbi had been, though, so this must have felt like a victory of some sort.

“We’re back,” Izzy announced, not bothering with the doorbell.

“We should start pictures,” Melinda said, picking up her own camera. “Let’s go outside, everyone. We might get the golden hour light.”

“How many pictures do you reckon they’re going to make us take?” Hunter asked, slipping an arm around Bobbi’s waist as they headed for the front door.

“Too many,” she answered. “But at least you have the right color tie.”

“And you have the most beautiful dress I have ever seen.” Hunter ran his thumb along the exposed skin revealed by the dress’s cutout, brushing along the edge of her scar when he did so. “I love you, you know that?”

“You may have mentioned it once or twice,” Bobbi said, leaning into his touch. Then, more quietly, “I love you too.”

“I won’t smudge your makeup any more,” Hunter promised, “but if I could I would kiss you.”

“I can fix my makeup,” Bobbi said, leaning in and pressing a soft kiss on his lips. “Wouldn’t be prom if I couldn’t kiss you.”

---

“Tur’i’off,” a sleepy voice mumbled into Bobbi’s ear. She rolled over, groping mindlessly for her phone. She managed to hit the snooze button, then rolled back over into Hunter’s arms, tucking herself under his chin.

Melinda had offered for Hunter to stay the night long before prom had rolled around, but Bobbi hadn’t dared hope he’d be permitted into her bedroom. The couch hadn’t been made up as a bed when they’d gotten home, though, and Bobbi considered that all the permission she needed to allow Hunter to sleep with her instead of on the couch (or worse, the floor). It was admittedly a tight squeeze, and the late May warmth was perhaps too much to be squeezed this close together, but Bobbi didn’t care. Hunter’s body heat was comforting, not stifling — and even if it had been, they’d gotten home far past two in the morning. She would’ve been able to fall asleep in an oven if it really came down to it.

“We need to get up,” Bobbi yawned, burying her face in the soft cotton of Hunter’s sleep shirt.

“Nuh uh.”

“Yuh huh,” Bobbi argued weakly. “We have brunch.” Anne had planned a brunch at a nearby restaurant as a post-prom pre-graduation treat and Bobbi had accepted the invitation without realizing how absolutely wiped she would be the day after prom. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d stayed up that late, and spending most of the night dancing hadn’t helped her exhaustion.

“Mmm. Food.” Hunter’s stomach grumbled in agreement.

“Only if you wake up.”

“M’awake.”

“Hunter.” Her attempts at exasperation were undermined by how Bobbi remained wrapped around Hunter like a baby koala, face still pressed into the crook of his neck and shoulder.

“You get up first,” he grumbled.

“I don’t wanna.”

“You are going to be the death of me,” Hunter said. He rolled over, half-falling out of bed. Bobbi lifted her head to make sure he wasn’t injured, propping herself up onto her elbows while she had the momentum.

“Are you just going to stare at me while I change?” Hunter asked, scrunching his face.

“Maybe.” So she liked watching her boyfriend change his shirt. Sue her! Hunter’s body was long and lean thanks to years of track and field training, and Bobbi would never not be fascinated by the way the muscles flexed under his skin when he raised his arms above his head to peel off his sleep shirt. Despite everything — her uncertainty about the future, Hunter’s cheeky smile, how forbidden the scene felt — Hunter captivated her.

“Come on,” Hunter said when he had changed into the spare clothes from his bag. “Your turn.”

Bobbi didn’t have an excuse to wait any longer so she rolled out of bed — much more gracefully than Hunter, she might add — and trudged over to her closet to find something to wear.

“You might want to hang this up,” Hunter said, handing over the dress she’d discarded on the floor the night previous.

“I should,” Bobbi agreed through another yawn.

“If you give me a hanger I can do it.”

Bobbi grabbed an empty hanger when she opened her closet to find an acceptable outfit for brunch, finding herself distracted again when Hunter attempted to navigate the waterfall of fabric to put the dress on it.

“Hey,” she said softly.

“Hey?” Hunter looked up from the dress, blinking blearily at her.

“If we get married we get to do this forever,” she said. The thought was like a summer storm rolling in, sudden and unignorable. Hunter was going to be a part of her life forever, and that would mean falling asleep in his arms every night and waking up in them every morning. The enormity of the realization couldn’t be overstated enough.

“Hopefully not exactly this.” Hunter’s dimples appeared when he smiled at her, predictably unbothered by the thought of spending the rest of their lives together. “I don’t reckon I could survive on this little sleep for the rest of my life.”

“Not exactly this,” Bobbi agreed. “But something like it.” She hadn’t had any moment of confusion when she’d woken up next to Hunter, even though by all accounts she should’ve been confused after years of sleeping alone (with the occasional interruption for big sister duties). Him spooning her, the toothless argument about who had to get up first, even giving him her dress for him to hang… it all made sense, the way things hadn’t made sense between them for a long time.

“Something like it,” Hunter agreed, finally succeeding in getting the dress situated. “I wouldn’t mind more kissing, though.”

“No kisses until you’ve brushed your teeth,” Bobbi said. “Hop to it.”

“Oh, so you get to watch me change but I don’t get to watch you? A horrifying double standard, Miss Coulson.”

“The summer is still young, Mister Hartley.” Bobbi certainly could plead Melinda into at least one more sleepover.

“Is that a promise?”

Bobbi grinned at him. “It’s a threat.”

---

It’s okay. You’re okay. Bobbi’s mother’s voice played in her head as she rang the doorbell. She shifted the envelopes from one hand to the other in a vain attempt to keep her sweaty palms from damaging the thin, colorful paper.

“Bobbi?” Iz poked her head out of the door. “Is everything okay?”

Of course. Of course Izzy would worry if she showed up unannounced on Mother’s Day, of all days. Bobbi should’ve thought of that.

You’re okay, Melinda’s voice repeated internally.

“Yeah,” Bobbi said, swallowing around the lump that had suddenly appeared in her throat. She thrust out the hand currently holding the envelopes, cheeks burning. “Happy Mother’s Day.”

The tension in Izzy’s shoulder’s melted, the concern on her face transforming into something much softer.

“Do you want to come in?”

Bobbi hesitated, not wanting to intrude on the Hartleys’ family time.

“Come in,” Izzy said when Bobbi didn’t answer. “At least to give this to Vic yourself.” She handed back one of the envelopes (the red one, which she had correctly assumed was for Vic) before shooing Bobbi into the house.

Bobbi shuffled into the kitchen behind Izzy, entirely out of place in the house she had once called home.

“The prodigal daughter returns!” Idaho said around a mouthful of pancakes. Hunter cocked his head at her and Bobbi gave him a small nod of reassurance. She wasn’t here because she had nowhere else to go. She was here because she wanted to be here — because she wanted to spend Mother’s Day with all of her mothers.

No one had suggested it outright, but when Bobbi had taken Fitz to the store to get a Mother’s Day card for his biological mother, he’d allowed her to linger in front of the wall of cards for far longer than would’ve otherwise been appropriate. Mack had asked her what Hunter’s plans for Mother’s Day were and hadn’t been surprised at all when she knew. Melinda hadn’t blinked when Bobbi, trembling with nerves, had asked if it was okay for her to drop the cards off that morning. She’d just given Bobbi a hug and soft words of reassurance that no matter what, Bobbi belonged to her.

The beautiful thing was that Bobbi never belonged only to Melinda. She would always have more than one mother — Susan Morse would always be Mama, the woman who made her childhood bright and colorful and happy — but it had taken her too long to realize she had more than two mothers, too. Vic and Izzy had seen her grieve and seen her grow, and they had supported her all the while. They’d loved her enough to let her go, into the arms of a family they didn’t know would love her as much as they did.

Bobbi wished she had prepared something to say instead so she wouldn’t be standing tongue-tied in the kitchen, but the best she could do was offer Vic the envelope and a quiet, “Happy Mother’s Day.”

Vic accepted the envelope just long enough to set it on the table and scoop Bobbi into a hug.

Bobbi relaxed into Vic’s arms, sinking into the familiarity of it. Vic was tall enough that Bobbi didn’t have to contort herself to drop her head onto Vic’s shoulder, nor did she have to worry about squeezing Vic too tight. She was solid and grounding, just as she’d always been — just as she always would be.

“Thank you,” Bobbi said into Vic’s shoulder. “Thank you for being my mom.”

Chapter Text

“Barbara Ann Coulson Morse!”

Hunter let out a loud whistle and Bobbi blushed bright red as she mounted the steps to the stage, her graduation gown catching around her feet as she took the stairs two by two. The rest of her family took Hunter’s whistle as a cue to shout more loudly than should have been humanly possible. Her blush deepened at the ruckus, but Bobbi also couldn’t pretend she wasn’t pleased at how vocally proud her family was.

Bobbi took her diploma from the principal, blinking at the bright flash from the cameraman standing just off to the side of the stage. The school had hired her to make sure everyone got pictures of their “special moment”, but it was just disorienting — especially now that she had to go down another set of steps with colorful spots still dancing in her vision.

Hopefully she had smiled for the photo. She didn’t doubt it would end up somewhere in the Coulson household, and she couldn’t stand the embarrassment of having an awful graduation photo on the wall until the end of time.

She took her seat and craned her head around to see if she could spot her family in the crowd. The school had rented out a huge pavilion for graduation, which was good since it allowed Bobbi’s entire family to attend, but they were so far away!

Graduation occurred in alphabetical order, leaving Bobbi far from the rest of her friends. Tomas had not-so-helpfully pointed out that if she’d changed her last name they would’ve been sitting closer together, but Bobbi hadn’t dignified that with a response. (Anne had rolled her eyes at him and Tomas had seemed properly chastised, which Bobbi counted as a victory.)

The rest of graduation droned on, and on, and on, as every name was called. Bobbi appreciated it was an important moment, but they really should’ve figured out a way to make it less boring for everyone sitting in the crowd. Bobbi had provided her family with a list of her friends so they knew who all to cheer for, but there was still a long wait between Morse and Weaver.

Luckily, there wasn’t much of a wait at all between Weaver and the end of the alphabet. Bobbi stood when they instructed, moving the tassel on her cap from one side to the other.

She had now officially graduated high school.

The moment was oddly anticlimactic despite the cheers and all the people who immediately took their hats off to throw into the air. Bobbi had never doubted she would graduate — it was always what would happen after that she was unsure of.

Her phone buzzed in the pocket of her graduation gown.

[Melinda]: We’re on the grass near the flagpole. See you soon <3

Bobbi couldn’t help the small smile at the emoji at the end of the message. Melinda would never know how much it meant to Bobbi that her mother was at her graduation, texting her hearts at the end of messages. Bobbi wouldn’t have ever hoped to have that, but now she did.

She had her mother, but she also had more.

She had an entire family waiting.

---

Bobbi knew how much nine months could change things; any day now her sister-in-law was going to have a baby, and she didn’t think there was any more powerful argument for much of a difference nine months could make — except, maybe, attending Hunter’s graduation.

She knew everyone walking across the stage in varying degrees. Some were names she had heard, others were classmates, others friendly acquaintances. None of them were friends, since Bobbi hadn’t allowed herself that luxury until moving to her new school. Bobbi knew them all, but as they crossed the stage to receive their diplomas, it was like she didn’t know any of them at all. Their lives were a mystery to her, just like her new life was a mystery to them. Likelier than not, no one cared where she had disappeared to, if they even noticed she was gone at all. Either way it was a strange thought, that she was just a background character in someone else’s life, a part of their story that could just be written out.

The passing thought didn’t bother Bobbi as much as it would’ve once. She didn’t need to be important to everyone. She just needed to be important to someone — and she was.

“Lance Hunter Hartley!”

Bobbi didn’t embarrass Hunter by wolf whistling (mostly because she didn’t know how to wolf whistle), but she did clap so hard her hands stung. Vic and Izzy, seated on either side of her, clapped just as loudly. The joy in the room was infectious, and Bobbi’s heart nearly floated out of her chest when Hunter spotted the three of them and waved before returning to his seat.

The rest of the names faded into a blur. Bobbi’s phone buzzed in her pocket, and she quickly flipped the ringer off. She wasn’t going to be that person who interrupted graduation with their too-loud cellphone. She’d only brought her phone along with her in case she got separated from the Hartleys in what was sure to be a swarm of people after the graduates were done walking.

The procession of students stopped and the graduates switched their tassels’ sides, just as they had done at Bobbi’s graduation only a few days ago. Going through the process herself had been emotional in its own right, but Bobbi found herself oddly choked when she and Hunter reunited at the back of the pavilion.

“Congratulations, teacup,” she said as he pulled her into a tight hug.

“Thanks, love.” Hunter sighed into her hair. “It’s really over now, isn’t it?”

“Well, you still have four more years of college…”

“Don’t remind me,” Hunter laughed when he pulled back from her. Bobbi reached up to adjust his slightly-crooked cap. He must’ve knocked it when he moved the tassel.

“I always thought when we did this, we’d do it together,” Bobbi said, surprising herself with the suddenness of the declaration.

Hunter tilted his head to the side, his cap nearly sliding off with the motion. A smile flickered onto Bobbi’s lips at the adorableness of his pout, and she righted the hat again with a firm tug. “We’re together now, aren’t we?”

“You know what I mean.” Sure, they had both graduated, and Hunter had come to her graduation just as she’d come to his, but it wasn’t their graduation. Their lives were more separate now than they ever had been, and big days like today just highlighted that separation.

“I do,” he agreed, pulling her back into another, shorter hug. “But we’ve still got each other.”

“We do,” Bobbi agreed. She offered Hunter her hand — her right hand, the one with Hunter’s ring on her finger — and a small smile. Figuring out how to be together now would be difficult, but she wouldn’t trade it for the world. “Let’s find your family.”

The Hartleys weren’t difficult to find, and luckily for everyone involved the process of taking pictures was much, much shorter than it had been for the Coulson family. Bobbi took a picture of the entire family, Vic took a picture of Bobbi and Hunter together, and after much cajoling they’d gotten a photo of Hunter and Idaho together too. They’d probably end up taking more photos at the Hartley house later when there wouldn’t be random strangers in the background, but having a few at the actual location where Hunter graduated was a nice memento.

Another positive of only taking a few photos was that they were some of the first people to return to their cars. Once she was safe in the backseat of the Hartley’s car, Hunter pressed into her side, Bobbi finally fished out her phone to see who had been texting her during graduation.

Bobbi blinked in shock at the literal hundreds of missed messages and dozen missed phone calls. She couldn’t recall ever having this many messages from her family before, even when she hadn’t opened the group chat in a few days. She scrolled quickly through all the notifications, letting out a soft squeak of surprise at the most recent message, a photo.

“Iz,” Bobbi said. “Do you mind taking a detour on the way home?”

“Sure thing,” Izzy said, glancing in the rearview mirror. “Where to?”

“The county hospital,” Bobbi answered, excitement bubbling her chest. “I have a nephew, and I’d like to meet him.”

---

“Wow,” Bobbi whispered. “He’s so… small.”

The entire car ride to the hospital she’d wondered what it would be like to hold her nephew for the first time, but nothing she imagined could even touch how she felt cradling the baby close to her chest. It was the first time she’d held an infant so Mack had coached her through how to do it correctly, but now that she had him, she was in awe.

“He did not feel small,” Elena complained from her perch on the bed. She’d been dozing when Bobbi came into the room, but had woken up to greet her and watch over Mack’s baby-handling demonstration.

“Sorry,” Bobbi apologized. “I just meant that in my head, he was just mini Mack, but…”

“Even mini Mack is quite big,” Elena agreed, smiling tiredly at Bobbi. “You’re right. He does look smaller on the outside than he felt on the inside.”

“Did you decide on a name?” Bobbi asked. She’d missed the big announcement when Mack brought the baby out to meet the Coulson family for the first time, so she had no idea if they’d settled on a name, let alone what it was. The text message she’d gotten with the baby’s first picture hadn’t had a name attached either.

“Matthias Samuel Rodriguez Mackenzie,” Mack said, settling next to Bobbi on the hospital chairs. One of the benefits of not being around when the baby was introduced to the family was that no one was clamoring to take him from her. Mack liked being nearby, but Bobbi guessed that was just a new parent thing. Both her brother and sister-in-law were content to let her hold her nephew as long as they were nearby if something went wrong.

“It’s perfect,” Bobbi declared. She hadn’t had any doubt in Mack and Elena’s naming abilities, even if she’d teased them endlessly.

“We thought so, too,” Mack said. “We were thinking maybe Mattie as a nickname, if it suits.”

“Mattie.” Bobbi tested the name on her tongue, smiling when her nephew blinked up at her. He couldn’t see her face — as Hunter had told her, babies could only see ten inches in front of their noses — but he was fascinated with the sound of her voice. A small part of Bobbi wondered if he recognized it; she’d heard of babies being able to recognize their parents’ voices from hearing it so often in utero, but she didn’t think she was around Elena often enough to reach that level of familiarity. Still, it was a nice thought.

“Hi, Mattie,” she said, tracing a finger down his chubby cheek and to the corner of his mouth. He turned towards her, his lips fastening around the tip of her finger. Bobbi pulled her finger out of his his mouth gently — she’d washed her hands as soon as she’d come into the hospital room, but it still was for the better if the baby didn’t suck on them.

“That’s called the rooting reflex,” Mack informed her. “It helps him nurse.”

“That’s crazy,” Bobbi said, still not quite able to believe she was holding a brand new human and that he was so little.

“Babies are crazy,” Mack agreed. “Reading all the books is nothing like having a baby in front of you.”

“I can only imagine,” Bobbi said. She resisted the urge to run her hand over Mattie’s cheek again, instead brushing his hair away from his face. That was another thing she hadn’t expected — Mattie had hair, and a lot of it. He must’ve gotten it from Elena’s side of the family, considering Mack was… well, Mack. Bald looked good on him, which was why Bobbi had never imagined him with hair, or considered that his child would have hair.

“There’s something we wanted to ask you, about him,” Mack said. Bobbi looked up from the baby’s face, brow furrowed.

“We were wondering if you would like to be his godmother,” Elena said before the suspense had too much time to build.

“I don’t really know what that means,” Bobbi admitted. She’d heard the term godparents thrown around before, and knew enough about them to know they were sometimes a part of kinship agreements in the foster care system, but she hadn’t had godparents, nor did she know anyone else who did.

“For us, we would like it to mean that you’re a role model and a guide for him as he grows up — someone he can go to when he doesn’t want to come to one of us. Someone he feels safe with,” Elena explained. “In the church godparents help teach a child about religion and, well, God, but we understand if that’s not something you’d like to do.”

“We know you’re going to be there for him no matter what,” Mack said, “and you don’t necessarily need a special title to know you’re special to him, so if you don’t want to, or it seems like too much —”

“I want to,” Bobbi interrupted. “I — I don’t know about the religion part, but I want to be everything else for him.” Bobbi never wanted her nephew to feel the way she had when she was younger — like there wasn’t anyone left in the world who cared about her. Mattie would grow up never doubting that he had someone he could turn to, and as far as Bobbi was concerned that was the greatest gift she could give him.

“Good,” Mack said, leaning his shoulder against hers. “We didn’t really have a second choice, so you’re saving us a lot of stress.”

Bobbi snorted. “You’re welcome.”

A soft knock came at the door a few moments before Hunter slid into the hospital room.

“Hey, Hunter,” Mack said. He stood, gesturing Hunter into the seat he had just been occupying.

“Congratulations,” Hunter said in Mack and Elena’s general direction.

“To you too,” Mack said.

Hunter cocked his head in askance.

“Graduating?” Mack reminded him.

“Right. I did that. Doesn’t seem all that big when compared with…” Hunter waved his hand around the hospital room, and Elena chuckled.

“We’re all still very proud of you and Bobbi for finishing school,” she said, ever encouraging. “Would you like to hold the baby?”

“I think Bob’s got him,” Hunter said, taking the seat next to her. Maybe he knew how possessive she was of Mattie, or, more likely, he was as worried about dropping the baby as Bobbi had been before Mack showed her how to hold him. “My mums want to get going, but I wanted to say goodbye before I left.”

“Sorry for dragging you all to the hospital,” Bobbi said, though she doubted her apology sounded all that convincing. She didn’t like wasting the Hartleys’ time, but it was worth it to meet her nephew.

“We weren’t dragged anywhere,” Hunter assured her. He looked down at the baby, his lower lip sticking out in a pout of concentration as he studied Mattie intently. “Blimey, he’s little.”

“He is the littlest Coulson,” Bobbi said.

“He is,” Hunter agreed. He pressed a kiss to Bobbi’s cheek. “Your mum’s in the waiting room whenever you’re ready to go. I’m going to head out.”

“Thanks, teacup. Congratulations on graduating. And rain check on graduation meal?” Even if she was excited to be with her nephew, Bobbi still felt bad that Mattie had upstaged Hunter and his graduation.

“Congratulations on no longer being the newest family member,” Hunter teased. “And I’ll take the rain check whenever you’re ready, love. My schedule happens to have just opened up significantly.” Bobbi’s cheeks hurt from smiling, but it didn’t stop her from grinning more broadly at Hunter. They had the whole summer to themselves, which did mean plenty of time for rain checks. Bobbi grabbed a quick kiss off Hunter’s lips before he slipped out as quickly and quietly as he had come.

“I forgot that you two are the two newest family members,” Mack said as he settled back in beside her.

“Honestly, me too,” Bobbi laughed breathily. “It’s a little weird to think I’ve only been adopted for three weeks.” Part of that was because the last three weeks had been crammed with so much activity, but the feeling went beyond just being busy.

“You’ve been ours for a lot longer than that,” Mack said. He didn’t need to say the ooey gooey stuff about how they’d been family long before the official adoption; they’d been over it before, and even if they hadn’t, Bobbi knew it.

“Mattie’s been ours for a lot longer than today,” Bobbi pointed out. The whole family had been excited to meet him since the Thanksgiving Elena had announced she was pregnant, and Mack and Elena had probably been excited for even longer than that. “We really joined the family together. Didn’t we, Mattie?” she cooed.

Obviously, the baby didn’t answer.

“I couldn’t have asked for a better partner-in-crime for my kid,” Mack said. “Thank you.”

“Thank you,” Bobbi said. “For trusting me with him. And everything else.”

They settled into a sleepy silence, Elena relaxing back against her pillow as the events of the morning caught up to her. Matthias yawned, and Bobbi cradled him closer to her, calm settling around her like her beloved quilt.

This week had been overwhelming — leaving high school behind felt like a big step into an even bigger unknown.

There was one thing Bobbi was sure of, though: the world was better now that her nephew was in it.

Chapter Text

Her first Monday as a high school graduate, Bobbi still woke up promptly at half past six in the morning. She didn’t change out of her pajamas but she did make some effort to tame her hair before shuffling downstairs, still half-asleep.

She didn’t need to be awake. A large part of her was upset she was awake. But (and this was an important but), Daisy had asked if Bobbi would still drive her to school, at least for one more day, and there was no way Bobbi could possibly say no to Daisy’s puppy dog eyes.

“Daisy Louise,” Bobbi sang as she threaded through the kitchen, sister nowhere in sight.

“What?” Daisy grumbled, shoving the basement door open groggily.

“Just wanted to make sure you were awake,” Bobbi said.

“Have I ever missed leaving for school before?”

“No,” Bobbi admitted. “But I might be rubbing it in your face that I don’t have to get dressed for school. Just a little bit.”

“Yeah, I got that,” Daisy grumbled. “Maybe I’ll make you walk me into school.”

“No!” Bobbi was not walking into school in her pajamas, but she also refused to change into real clothes when she was going right back to sleep after dropping Daisy off.

“Then stop being mean to me,” Daisy harrumphed, grabbing a box of cereal out of the pantry. Bobbi, ever the helpful sibling, acquired a bowl and spoon and set them at Daisy’s spot at the table.

“If I was being mean to you, I would make you take the bus,” Bobbi said. Daisy had relayed a bus horror story after Bobbi had gotten home from the hospital, and Bobbi could relate; she’d never liked cramming herself on the stupid plasticky bus seats around a bunch of other kids as dead tired and annoyed with the world as she was.

“You’re my favorite sister and I love you endlessly?” Daisy tried to do puppy dog eyes again, but she was so tired that the expression looked more dopey than anything. And honestly, the dopeyness was kind of cute, too.

Damn, that kid could never lose.

“I’m going to miss having school with you,” Daisy said as she poured her bowl of cereal.

“We barely even saw each other anyways.” After the first few weeks when Daisy had gone out of her way to check on Bobbi in the mornings and in between classes, it was like they weren’t even in the same school at all.

“I mean, yeah. But I knew you were there.”

“I’m still going to be here, Dais,” Bobbi said, knocking her foot against Daisy’s underneath the table. “Even when I go off to college, I’ll be here.”

“In spirit?” Daisy scoffed.

“I was thinking more in cellphone,” Bobbi chuckled. “But in spirit too, I guess. Just because I’m leaving doesn’t mean I’m leaving, you know?”

“Yeah,” Daisy sighed. “This is just the first step in a lot of steps to you not being around as much and I don’t like it.”

“I wish I could fix it,” Bobbi said. “But all I’ve got is being able to drive you to school as long as you want me to.”

“You don’t really want to get up early every morning for me,” Daisy said.

“No, I don’t,” Bobbi agreed, “but if it’s what you need to make this easier, I’ll do it.”

Daisy paused with her spoon halfway to her mouth. “I’ll think about it.”

“Okay.” Bobbi wasn’t going to force her sister to make a decision either way, but it was at least nice to have the air between them slightly clearer. “Eat quick. I’m not letting you be late to school on my first day of freedom or Mom will have my head.”

---

“You’re twirling.”

Bobbi lifted her head off Hunter’s chest, but he still had his eyes closed, stretched out on the grass in the Coulson’s backyard. How had he known she was fiddling with her ring?

“I’m just thinking,” she said, settling back against him. She’d spent most of the day like this, her head on Hunter’s chest as they laid in the grass together. They’d been sunbathing most of the day, but sunset had past and now they were squinting at what few stars managed to get through the light pollution.

“And twirling.”

“And twirling,” she agreed. “It’s not — I mean, I twirl because it helps me think. Makes me calmer.”

“Mmm hmmm,” Hunter hummed, apparently unbothered by her fidgeting despite having pointed it out. “What’re you thinking about, then?”

“Are you going to look for your mom?”

Hunter’s eyes popped open and he lifted his head off the grass. “Why do you ask?”

“I’ve been thinking a lot about closure,” Bobbi said. Graduation felt like an easy ending to one chapter of her life, but there were still a few things she wanted to do before moving onto college. “I was just curious if you were, too.”

“I think for now I’m not going to talk to her,” Hunter said, settling back into the grass. He lifted his hand to tangle it in Bobbi’s hair, and she leaned into his touch. “So much else is changing right now and I’m not sure I have the time or energy to be able to meet her the way I want to, you know? If she does want to have a relationship with me, I want to be able to give that attention without feeling like I’m giving up something else. Right now I don’t think I can do that.”

“That makes sense,” Bobbi said, using the pad of her thumb to twirl her ring around her finger again.

“What about you?” Hunter prompted.

“I’ve been thinking I might try to visit my nana again,” Bobbi said. “Now that I know the worst that can happen, I was thinking I could just… say goodbye properly, without being blindsided by her not remembering me.”

“That sounds like a great idea, Bob,” Hunter said.

“I’m worried about what my mom and dad will say,” Bobbi admitted. “They saw how upset I was last time, and… I don’t know. They don’t like when I’m upset, and I don’t want to go without their permission, so…” If Phil and Melinda asked her not to go to visit her nana, Bobbi wouldn’t do it.

“They don’t like when you’re upset because you’re their daughter and it’s their job to make sure you’re happy,” Hunter said. “But they also know that you’re more than just their daughter. I don’t think they’d have a problem with you going to visit her.”

“I know,” Bobbi sighed. “I just worry.”

“Yes, I got that part,” Hunter said fondly. “They want what’s best for you, though, and I don’t think anyone can argue a little bit of closure wouldn’t help.”

“Would you want to come with me?” Bobbi asked.

“As emotional support?”

“And to say goodbye for yourself,” Bobbi said. Hunter had known her nana, too, and even if his relationship with her was nothing like Bobbi’s relationship with Vic and Izzy, if he wanted space to say goodbye Bobbi wanted him to have it.

“If you want me there, I’ll go.”

“But do you want to come?” Bobbi pushed. He didn’t sound thrilled about the prospect and she wanted to know why.

“No, not particularly.” Hunter paused. “I’m mad at her, Bob. For doing what she did to you, even if she didn’t mean to. For forgetting you and upsetting you and everything in between. I could die happy never seeing her or thinking about her again.”

“Oh.” Bobbi hadn’t considered that angle at all.

“But it’s not about me,” Hunter said, scratching lightly at her scalp. “If you want me, you’ve got me.”

“If I did it,” and that was still a fairly big if, “I wouldn’t want to go alone.”

“Then I’ll come with you,” Hunter said definitively. “Simple.”

“Simple,” Bobbi repeated.

“C’mere,” Hunter said, tugging Bobbi’s hair gently. She crawled up beside him until they were face-to-face, the tips of their noses brushing. “Thank you for talking to me.”

“Thank you for listening,” she whispered back.

“Always,” Hunter said. “You and me, Bob.” He kissed the tip of her nose and she scrunched it reflexively.

“You and me.”

---

“Dad said we have to check which tapes are empty before we try to record anything,” Bobbi said, sitting cross-legged on the floor with the box of tapes next to her. Unsurprisingly, it was difficult to find blank audio cassettes out and about these days — though Phil had ordered a pack of them off a specialty site at her behest.

“That’s going to take forever,” Daisy groaned, flopping onto her stomach. “There’s like, a billion tapes in here.”

“It’ll be easier once we catalog them all,” Bobbi said. “We want to know what songs we have to work with anyways.”

“We could just make playlists like normal people.”

“Does Daniel know how to work Spotify?”

“I think so?” Daisy paused, considering. “You know, I’ve never asked.”

Bobbi refrained from pointing out that with most people their age, asking about knowing how to use modern technology wasn’t necessary because it was a given. “Maybe we should get a record player too. To cover our bases.”

“Ha ha,” Daisy said, sarcasm oozing from her words. “I want it on the record that it was your idea to make our boyfriends mix tapes.”

“Recorded!” Kora chirped, coming in from the kitchen with a bowl of popcorn.

“You’re the worst,” Bobbi said.

“No I’m not!” Kora threw a piece of popcorn at Bobbi, who caught it expertly in her mouth. After months of movie nights with Phil she had learned about more than just the entirety of the Star Wars franchise.

“Dad said that they used to cut and paste pictures from magazines to make, quote, an old school Pinterest board,” Bobbi informed Daisy as they began flicking through the tapes. Some of them had the their track lists written on the back so they were easy to skip over — it was the blank tapes that were going to take real work to organize.

“I didn’t know Dad knew what Pinterest was.” Fitz threw himself down on the floor next to Daisy, unwrapping a chocolate bar with a surprising lack of precision for someone whose hobbies all involved hand-eye coordination.

“I didn’t know you knew what Pinterest was.” Daisy stuck her hand out and Fitz sighed before dropping a square of chocolate into it.

“I know things,” Fitz said vaguely.

“Do you have a Pinterest board for your wedding in the Scottish highlands?” Daisy teased. “With your kilt and your bagpipes and your haggis?”

Fitz shoved at her with his foot. “Sod off.”

“If we can find any magazines that would be a fun arts and crafts project,” Bobbi said in a valiant attempt at rescuing the conversation. “Mom does not strike me as the kind of person to like magazines, though.”

“We could also just print stuff out,” Kora suggested.

“Doesn’t that defeat the point of using magazines?” Daisy asked, propping her chin on her hand and shoving the square of chocolate Fitz had given her into her mouth. “You’re supposed to make do with what you have.”

“Don’t talk with your mouth full,” Bobbi chided.

Daisy narrowed her eyes. “You’re not my mom.”

“That would be me,” Melinda said, walking into the living room with another cardboard box. She surveyed her children, and after ascertaining they all still had all their body parts, dropped the box on the floor beside Kora. “Did I hear you talking about magazines?”

“No way,” Kora said, digging out a copy of Better Homes and Gardens.

“The actuarial office has a waiting room,” Melinda explained. “I pilfered magazines whenever they got cycled out for arts and crafts when you kids were young.”

“I don’t remember ever doing any arts and crafts,” Daisy said, voice slightly accusatory.

“You were not an arts and crafts child,” Melinda retorted dryly. “You would rather jump off the swing set and roll around in the mud.”

“I was an arts and crafts child,” Bobbi informed her mother. “I made a mean papier-mâché.”

“The nerdiness started young with you, I see,” Daisy teased. “Did you make a volcano? You totally made a volcano.”

“I made a volcano,” Bobbi confirmed. “My mom…” she trailed off.

“Your mom,” Melinda prompted, settling down next to Bobbi and resting a hand on Bobbi’s knee.

“My mom put in too much red food coloring, so we had a big red stain on our table after that,” Bobbi said haltingly. “Whenever people came over she’d tell them about why there was a stain on our table and I’d take out my volcano to show the guests.”

“You have a lot of free time now,” Kora said. “If you want to make another volcano.”

“I might be a little too old for baking soda and vinegar volcanoes,” Bobbi demurred.

“You’re never too old to do things that make you happy.” Melinda squeezed Bobbi’s knee. “I’m sure you could find a more complex project if you want to take a walk down memory lane.” She paused. “Please don’t stain the table, though. I don’t think a social worker would take kindly to an ambiguous red stain.”

“I will try not to,” Bobbi said. “Here, do you remember which songs were on this tape?” She handed Melinda 101 to her mother.

“You really think I remember which songs were on each tape?” Melinda asked with an arched eyebrow.

“Yes,” her children chorused.

“You have a freakishly good memory,” Fitz said. “And ninja skills.”

“Definitely ninja skills,” Daisy agreed.

“I’d have to listen to the first track to jog my memory,” Melinda said. Bobbi dragged the boom box over, popping the tape into the tape deck and pressing play.

The first notes filled the air and Melinda smiled. “Hooked on a Feeling. Your father ran out of songs from the 80s so he started going backwards.”

“When you make one hundred thirty-six tapes I suppose you do run out of options eventually,” Bobbi said. “Mama, is there any way to put modern music onto tapes?”

“There are machines that can write a CD onto a tape. So if we burned a CD and got one of those machines we could probably wrangle it,” Melinda said. “Why do you ask?”

“Because Dad and I have very different tastes in music,” Bobbi said bluntly. “I am not this sappy.”

“Are you sure about that?” Fitz snorted.

Bobbi glared at him but her brother just raised his chocolate-smeared hands up in surrender. “I have to listen to your boyfriend wax poetic about you every time I call him to gloat about Liverpool losing. This isn’t my fault.”

“It’s Liverpool’s fault?” Bobbi asked derisively.

“Exactly.” Fitz seemed satisfied that she had come up with the correct answer and Bobbi rolled her eyes at him before turning back to her mother.

“It can be my graduation present?” she asked. “Or my birthday present. I’m not picky.”

“We didn’t get you anything for graduation, did we?” Melinda hummed.

“I had a lot of gift-giving holidays in a row,” Bobbi said. Between her adoption, graduation, and upcoming birthday, there were three occasions in which to give her gifts, which felt a little excessive even considering the number of birthdays in a row she’d received hardly anything gift-wise.

“We still want to celebrate it,” Melinda insisted.

Bobbi shrugged. Most of her graduation “gifts” had just been cash, which she wasn’t complaining about. Even after being adopted there was a comfort to having money of her own, and the extra cushion in her bank account made the idea of going to college and eventually graduating college less scary. Financial stability had been a foreign concept until recently, and Bobbi wasn’t going to take it for granted.

“I’ll talk to your father about it,” Melinda promised. “Do you have a pen?”

Bobbi went to the kitchen to grab a pen from one of their many drawers, and returned it to her mother so she could write a new label on the back of Melinda 101.

“I thought making mix tapes would be much more glamorous than this,” Daisy said around a mouthful of popcorn. “I see why they always montage this part in movies.”

“What movies have you watched where they make a mix tape?” Melinda asked, accepting the pen from Bobbi.

“Well, none. But if I did, they would montage it.” Daisy flipped over from her stomach to her back. “It takes long enough to put all the right songs on a playlist or the right images on a Pinterest board. This is just torture.”

“It’s a way to express your love,” Melinda said. After a moment, she added, “Don’t tell your father, but you’re right. Analog is not always best.”

“Mom,” Bobbi gasped in mock affront. “You mean the good old days were sometimes just the old old days?”

“Be careful with the sass there, missy,” Melinda said. “You’re getting awfully liberal with your usage of the word old.” She was smiling, though, so Bobbi didn’t feel even marginally bad for overusing the word.

“Does this mean Bobbi’s not your favorite child anymore?” Kora asked.

“Should I be offended you sound hopeful?”

“Currently, my favorite child is Matthias,” Melinda said, clicking the pen back down when she finished writing the track list on the tape.

“He’s not even your kid!” Fitz protested.

“Which is exactly why I like him best,” Melinda teased. “I can give him back.”

“You just like him best because he’s a baby,” Daisy accused.

“You all are my babies.”

“Urgh, Mum!” Fitz said, falling over dramatically. “I’m a teenage boy, you can’t say that to me!”

“Sorry, baby boy, but that’s not how that works.”

“Baby boy,” Daisy and Bobbi snickered in unison.

“You can’t embarrass me,” Bobbi said when Melinda turned her focus to her daughters. “I am your baby and I am very proud of that. I’ve got the newly-adopted shield of mushy feelings protection.” Anything that would embarrass a normal teenager would just remind Bobbi of how desperately she was wanted by this family, and that wasn’t a bad thing.

“I will strike when you least expect it,” Melinda promised.

“Uh huh,” Bobbi said, nonplussed.

“Parents go to college orientation,” Daisy pointed out.

“Don’t give her ideas, Daisy!”

“You will not have your mushy feelings shield forever!”

“I will not,” Bobbi agreed. “But I do for now. And probably when I leave for college, too.” It hadn’t quite sunk in that she was going to have to leave her family, but when it happened, Bobbi was going to be a mess.

“Hand me the magazines,” Bobbi said, gesturing to the stack Kora had pulled from the box. “I am going to find the best pictures ever for my analog Pinterest board.”

“Are you sure you’re not as sappy as Dad?” Kora asked. “This seems sappy.”

“Putting time and effort into making a nice gift for my boyfriend is not sappy!” Bobbi insisted.

“Uh huh.” Daisy rolled her eyes and ate another fistful of popcorn while Fitz and Kora both gave her dubious looks.

“I hate you all,” Bobbi huffed.

“We love you too, Bobbi!”

Chapter Text

“Do you want me to come in with you?” Melinda asked. Her voice didn’t betray her worry, but her eyes did.

“I’ll be okay, Mom,” Bobbi said, ducking out of the car. She held out her hand to Hunter, who took it firmly in his. “I’ve got Hunter.”

Melinda and Hunter exchanged a look. Bobbi sighed, tugging on Hunter’s hand. She understood Melinda’s urge to protect her, but if her mother didn’t trust her boyfriend would do everything she could to keep her heart safe, one look in a nursing home parking lot wasn’t going to change anything.

Checking into the nursing home didn’t take long, and just as had happened the first time, an orderly led Bobbi up to her grandmother’s room.

“Are you Susan?” the orderly — a different one than had been there the first time, Bobbi was pretty sure — asked. “She talks about you all the time.”

“No,” Bobbi said, a lump already rising in my throat. “Susan was my mother.”

The orderly obviously noticed the usage of the word was and didn’t push any further. Bobbi steeled herself as they walked down the hallway, her grip on Hunter’s hands becoming progressively tighter the closer to the room they got. If the orderlies only knew about Susan, the chances Bobbi would be recognized weren’t good. The expectation didn’t make it any easier, though.

“Just let the front desk know when you’re leaving,” the orderly said.

Bobbi nodded. Visiting hours weren’t all day, but she doubted she and Hunter would stay long if the visit was anything like her last one.

Bobbi blinked, and she was sitting in her nana’s living room. She had walked in, probably, but her brain had refused to process anything other than her sweaty palms. Even though it couldn’t have been pleasant to hold her hand at the moment, Hunter hadn’t let go. Their joined hands rested on Hunter’s knee and his thumb stroked over her knuckles in a calming cadence. Bobbi focused on his skin against hers — the warmth, the roughness, the familiarity.

“Barbara?”

Her stomach did an impressive flip and her heart, refusing to be left out of the festivities, shivered in her chest. Her hand tightened around Hunter’s to the point where Bobbi was certain it was uncomfortable, but he didn’t react whatsoever, his expression passive when she glanced over at him for reassurance.

“Hi, Nana.” She swallowed hard, sheer willpower the obstacle between her and violently sobbing.

“You came.” The gentleness in her nana’s voice only choked Bobbi further, and she lost the battle between herself and tears. They felt sticky rolling down her cheeks, the sensation uncomfortable with how they burned against her already-flushed skin.

“Yeah,” Bobbi squeezed out. “I came.” Should she apologize for it taking so long? She didn’t know how much time had passed in grandmother’s head, or what she knew about Bobbi and her life now. Hunter wouldn’t be a surprise no matter what year her nana thought it was, but everything else depended on a myriad of factors. Bobbi wished she had done more research into talking to people with dementia. She’d considered it after her last visit, but the wound had still been raw then and she hadn’t wanted to make it worse. She also hadn’t wanted to read the advice and find out it was something she couldn’t do. Bobbi already felt like enough of a failure as a granddaughter without being told all the mistakes she was making.

“They told me you had been placed with a foster family,” her nana said, which answered at least some of her questions about how mentally present she was.

“Yeah,” Bobbi agreed. She squeezed Hunter’s hand again. “I, um… They adopted me.”

The declaration scraped at her throat, only adding to the visceral unpleasantness of this entire visit. Bobbi just wanted to do things right, wanted to have closure, wanted to walk out of the nursing home knowing it was the last time she’d walk away. Now she couldn’t even have that, because her nana was there, looking at her with soft blue eyes that reminded Bobbi so much of her mother’s.

“Congratulations.” Bobbi studied her nana’s face for any signs she wasn’t being genuine, but all she found was a mild, pleasant expression that didn’t appear to be hiding any hurts.

Bobbi had spent the last nine months telling herself this was better for both of them, but it hurt more than she expected to know her nana agreed. The old fears about not being loved or wanted began creeping back in, and Bobbi had a brief, intense urge to call her mom. Melinda would know what to say.

“Thank you,” Bobbi struggled to get out.

“Sweetheart,” her nana said gently, “do you want to be here?”

“Yes,” Bobbi choked. She did. But there was no way to explain why this was so difficult without sounding accusatory. It wasn’t her nana’s fault that she was losing her memories. Nevertheless it was difficult not to feel bitter about it all — not to yell that it wouldn’t hurt so much to be here if she knew the next time she was here she’d be able to talk to her nana again, not the woman she had been ten years ago whose daughter was still alive and well. There was no such thing as closure when Bobbi didn’t know if she was coming back, or who she would meet if she did muster up the strength to return again.

“Everything is different now,” Bobbi managed. “I am different now and I don’t know… I don’t know if you want that.”

“Barbara Ann,” her nana said, just like she had when Bobbi was a toddler with her hand stuck in the cookie jar. “All I want is for you to be happy. And I’m sorry that I couldn’t be the one to make you happy. In a better world, things would be different. But in a better world I wouldn’t have had to take care of you at all, would I?”

“I miss them so much,” Bobbi said, voice cracking. “I miss my parents and I miss you and I love my family but I’m never going to stop missing this.” It was easier to move on from her parents knowing there was no way they could rise from the dead and take care of her again. It was harder to move on from her nana, knowing there were still days she was lucid and could be a caregiver — could be exactly what Bobbi needed her to be.

“It’s okay, Bobbi,” her nana said softly. “I miss you. And I’m sure wherever your mother is —” her nana’s voice cracked on those words, an awful reminder that while Bobbi had lost a mother, her grandmother had lost a daughter, “— she misses you too. But missing something doesn’t always mean it’s what’s best for you.”

“I know,” Bobbi sniffled. “I just needed to say it.”

“I know,” her nana echoed back. “I know I won’t be able to tell you this forever, but while I can, I want you to know we miss you too. We love you too. And that won’t change even if you’re happy with your new family. You loving them more doesn’t mean you love us any less.”

The Coulsons had told her some variation on those same words thousands of times at this point, but it was different hearing it from her nana and knowing that she believed it, too. It was different knowing that on the days her nana did remember Bobbi, she wouldn’t resent her for not being there. And on the days she didn’t remember… well, it wouldn’t matter if Bobbi wasn’t there, would it?

“Come here,” her nana said.

Bobbi let go of Hunter’s hand and allowed herself to be wrapped up in a hug like she hadn’t known since she was a child.

Maybe this wasn’t closure like she had hoped for, the perfect bookend to the relationship that had defined her life since Aunt Tess died, but it was something.

Bobbi was learning to live with imperfections.

---

Bobbi arrived at the coffee shop ten minutes before she was supposed to meet Kara, but the other girl was already there, tucked away at a back corner table with her laptop balanced on her knees. She looked up when the bell above the door chimed, waving to Bobbi when she saw her. Bobbi waved back before getting in line for coffee, pulling out her battered wallet and the allowance money she had stuffed into it before flying out the door. She hadn’t wanted to be late.

Kara had dragged her bag off the table and was halfway through closing her laptop when Bobbi slid into her seat, hot chocolate and scone in hand.

“Hey,” she said breathlessly. “Sorry I’m late.”

“You’re not late,” Kara assured her. “I was early. Kai had an appointment so my mom needed to drop me off here early.”

“Oh, if you needed a ride I could’ve driven you,” Bobbi said. “I have control of the car until I leave for school. Oldest child privileges.”

Kara’s eyebrow ticked up. “Are you disowning your older brothers?”

“Oldest child at home privileges,” Bobbi amended. “I can’t disown my brothers if I want to keep aunt privileges.”

“Your sister had her baby?” Kara asked. She had met Elena at Bobbi’s graduation party, or at least seen her and been able to put the pieces together.

Bobbi broke her scone in half, pushing one half across the table to Kara wordlessly. She looked like she was about to refuse, but Bobbi stared her into submission. “She did. His name is Mattie and he is perfect.”

“Congratulations to your brother and sister, then,” Kara said, nibbling at the scone. “And you too, I suppose.”

“I didn’t do much. I actually missed most of the hullabaloo because I was at Hunter’s graduation.” Bobbi took a sip of her hot chocolate, pausing to consider its flavor. There must have been whipped cream or something on top, because it was much milkier than Bobbi would’ve expected. “I’m going over to their house tonight to make them dinner, though.”

“What’re you making?” Kara asked.

“Elena — my sister — wanted dumplings. My Wàipó’s recipe,” Bobbi grinned. “I have family recipes now. That’s pretty cool.”

“That is pretty cool,” Kara laughed. “Is that what you like most about being adopted?”

Bobbi paused, considering the question. “I don’t know. I think mostly I like feeling… settled. I never really felt that way after my parents died.” She lifted a shoulder in a shrug. “And of course I’m about to flip it all upside down by leaving for college, but I guess mostly I like knowing there’s someplace I can come back to.”

“A home,” Kara said softly.

“A home,” Bobbi agreed. “What about you? How are things at home?”

Kara hesitated. “Better than they were. I worry, though.”

“About?” Bobbi prompted when no more explanation was forthcoming.

“Just that what happened before is going to happen again, and they won’t be able to take care of us. I’m older now, but so are my brothers, and I guess… when we went into care, they weren’t really old enough to understand what was happening. I don’t think they even remember it. But I do, and if it happens again then they will, too.” Kara sighed, her shoulders creeping upward as if she was a marionette and strings and not a recent high school graduate with too much stress on her hands.

“My therapist would say that’s fortune telling and not all that helpful,” Bobbi advised. “And my mom would say that it’s a parent’s job to worry about those things, not a child’s.” Bobbi paused, blowing on her cocoa to give herself another minute to think. “I know that’s not really helpful when you’re worried, though.” Dr. Garner was big on making her memorize all the cognitive distortions on her list, but even if she could recognize she wasn’t thinking right, it wasn’t always easy to stop it.

“Not really,” Kara agreed.

“If your parents need help, I can ask my mom if she could babysit or something?” Bobbi offered, unsure of what else she could do to make her friend less worried. “Or if you just want a place to crash, I’m home all summer.”

“I’ll think about it,” Kara said.

“I mean it,” Bobbi pressed. “I’ve been there, and I wouldn’t be here if Hunter’s family hadn’t helped me as much as they did. None of us can do this alone.”

“I know.” Kara deflated. “I just… you get so used to being alone, you know?”

“Yeah, I know,” Bobbi agreed. “And we told ourselves we were okay with being alone because that was what we had to do to survive. But we don’t have to do that anymore.”

Tears welled up in Kara’s eyes. “We don’t, do we?”

“You know that already,” Bobbi said encouragingly. Kara had been the one to reach out to her, not the other way around. Kara knew there were people out there who would love her — she just needed to be reminded sometimes. Kind of like someone else Bobbi knew.

“I do.” Kara sniffled. “Do you mind if we go someplace else?”

“Of course not.” Bobbi couldn’t say she much enjoyed the idea of crying in a public coffee shop, either. “Do you want to come home with me? I don’t think any of my siblings will be home, and we can chill in my room.”

“That sounds great.” Kara gathered her things and followed Bobbi out the door and to the coffee shop’s small parking lot.

“Thank you,” Kara said when she was settled in the passenger’s seat of Bobbi’s car. “I get that a lot of people would’ve said the same things you said, back there, but it’s different, knowing that you actually went through the system.”

“It’s really not a problem,” Bobbi said. She put her key in the ignition but didn’t turn it. “I mean, I have a lot of the same worries. Not exactly about going back into the system, but about things going back to the way they were before. I saw my grandmother the other day and it brought a lot of stuff up, and… Yeah. I get it.”

“I’m sorry,” Kara said. “I didn’t ask before dumping a lot on you.”

“It’s okay.” Bobbi reached over, brushing her hand over Kara’s knee. “That’s what friends are for, right?”

“I mean, ideally your friends don’t trauma dump without warning.” Kara wiped her eyes. “Friends are great or whatever but I don’t want you to feel like you have to worry about me all the time. There’s a line between being a friend and being…”

“An unpaid, untrained therapist?” Bobbi suggested. “Trust me, you haven’t crossed that line at all. You listen to me, too. Actually listen, not just pretend to listen so you can get back to talking about yourself. And I appreciate that a lot, so it’s nice to be able to return the favor.”

“Do you have a lot of problems with people listening to you just to talk about themselves?” Kara asked, brow furrowing.

Bobbi shook her head. “No, thank goodness. But I worry that I’m that person sometimes, because, you know, you hear people talk about them…”

“I think most of the time if you’re worried about being a bad person, you’re probably doing fine,” Kara said.

“Probably, but not always,” Bobbi said. “I tend to find myself as the exception to ordinary rules.” See: parents dying at eleven, aunt dying at fourteen, too many foster homes, and a miraculous happily ever after.

“Drive us home,” Kara said, “and then I can thoroughly disabuse you of any notion that you are a bad person. And if you don’t believe me I’ll make your mom say it too.”

“That is stone cold, Palamas,” Bobbi said, turning the key in the ignition. “My mom’s scary.”

“But she’s mom-scary. Not scary-scary.”

“You do remember that she made an entire teenager disappear, right?” Since Kara’s intel had led to Ward disappearing, Bobbi figured the other girl had to remember what Melinda did after.

“You’re right,” Kara admitted as Bobbi turned out of the parking lot. “But that doesn’t mean I won’t drag your mom into our arguments if she’s on my side.”

They continued bickering light-heartedly on the short drive back to the Coulsons’ house. Bobbi parked at the curb as she always did, then led Kara up the driveway. Kara hadn’t actually been inside the house before since Bobbi’s party had taken place entirely in the backyard, and Bobbi would never be able to forget how intimidating she found the place the first time she went inside, so she wasn’t going to rush her friend into it.

“You’re fine with dogs?” Bobbi double-checked. Even if Cap had been wandering around during her graduation party, Kara could’ve avoided him if she wanted.

“Yeah, of course.” Kara paused. “I’ve always wanted a dog.”

“Mi perro, su perro,” Bobbi joked, opening the front door. “Mama? Kara and I are home!”

“Hey, baby.” Melinda poked her head out of the kitchen. “Hey, Kara. You two need anything?”

“Kara, do you want anything to eat?” She’d all but devoured the half of the scone Bobbi’d given her, and Bobbi knew all too well the worry about food when it came to busy or forgetful caregivers.

“I’m fine,” Kara said, shrinking into Bobbi’s side. “Thanks, Mrs. Coulson.”

“We’re going to be up in my room,” Bobbi announced. “I told Kara I’d drive her home when we’re done.”

Melinda nodded before ducking back into the kitchen to work on whatever she was doing — hopefully not cooking, for the sake of all their taste buds. Bobbi took Kara upstairs and into her room, nudging the door shut behind her.

“So,” Bobbi said, flopping onto her bed and beckoning Kara to join her. “These worries that you’re having. Anything in particular causing them, or…?”

Kara hesitated before wiggling to put her head on Bobbi’s shoulder. “It’s stupid.”

“It’s not,” Bobbi whispered. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

Bobbi didn’t know if she could fix Kara’s problem — but she did know that no matter what it was, she wouldn’t let Kara go through it alone.

Chapter Text

“It’s too bad you’re not going to be picking anyone up at Pride, because you look hot,” Daisy announced, stepping back to survey her handiwork.

Bobbi had expected something a little more subtle, but it occurred to her that expecting subtle from a teenage girl who had just received a brand new rainbow makeup palette was foolish. Bobbi couldn’t even complain, because the look Daisy had gone for was nothing short of artistry. A gradient of pink, purple, and blue across her eyelids represented the bi pride flag, with black eyeliner sharp enough to cut like a knife. Daisy had insisted on emphasizing Bobbi’s naturally-wavy hair with a curling iron, and the overall effect was… well, Bobbi wasn’t going to call herself hot, but she wasn’t going to disagree with Daisy’s assessment either.

“Too bad,” Bobbi agreed, unsure whether she ought to hide behind the curtain of swooping waves to avoid Daisy’s appraising gaze or pin them away from her face to let the makeup shine.

“You guys are going to have so much fun,” Daisy sighed wistfully.

“You can still come if you want.” Ever since Trip had offered to take Bobbi and Kora to Pride, Daisy had been making off-handed comments about how much fun it would be, and even if she would never say it aloud, it didn’t take a genius to realize she wished she could go, too. Bobbi was firmly of the opinion that Pride was for anyone who wanted to celebrate the queer community, and she didn’t have a doubt Daisy would want to celebrate.

“Nah,” Daisy said, tucking a wave of Bobbi’s hair behind her ear for her. “You deserve some Trip time that doesn’t involve a family holiday or a broken down car. I’ll be here for dinner when you all get back.”

“As long as you’re sure,” Bobbi said.

“I’m not sure,” Daisy admitted, “but it’s not like this is going to be the last Pride in the history of forever. I can always go next year if I want to, right?”

“Right,” Bobbi agreed. “Thank you for helping me get ready.”

“We’re not done yet.” Daisy clicked her tongue. “You need to get changed.”

“Right,” Bobbi said. “Be right back.”

“Tell Kora to sneak down here,” Daisy commanded.

“If I tell her, doesn’t that kind of defeat the purpose of sneaking?”

“Maybe,” Daisy said. “But Mom and Dad won’t let me do her makeup —”

“— because she’s twelve —”

“— and I thought of a compromise,” Daisy finished. “Besides, she’s twelve and it’s for a party. It’s not like I’m giving her fake eyelashes and lipliner to wear to school every day or something.”

“I will tell Kora to come downstairs so you can carry out whatever nefarious plan you have,” Bobbi promised. “Thank you for doing my makeup for me.”

“Ah ah, no ruining your lip gloss,” Daisy said when Bobbi leaned forward to kiss her cheek. “You need the extra pink to balance your eyes.”

“Whatever you say, Dais.” Bobbi rolled her eyes before heading upstairs, already planning how she could smuggle Kora to the basement without her parents realizing what she’d done.

---

“You good?” Trip’s hand appeared on Bobbi’s shoulder, a grounding presence amidst the chaos surrounding them.

“I’m good,” Bobbi said, though she did shuffle a little closer to her brother. She’d known Pride was going to be crowded — Daisy had told her the estimated attendance from the year before and it had made Bobbi’s eyes bug out of her head — but it was one thing to know how many people would be there and another entirely to experience it. The entire parade route was teeming with people, a crowd several people deep forming from the barriers along the side of the road. Because they had arrived early, the Coulson siblings were at the front of the crowd, which was great for the view but not so great for the claustrophobia.

“If you need a time out you can take one,” Trip said. “Just keep your phone on you, kay?”

“I’m fine,” Bobbi repeated, more sure of herself the second time. She couldn’t remember ever being a part of a crowd this big before in her life — she’d never been to concerts or sports games or anything larger than a school function. Even prom’s dance floor couldn’t compare to the crush of people around her. But no matter how many people there were, or how loud it was, Bobbi didn’t want to miss a single moment.

“Good.” Trip draped an arm around Bobbi’s shoulders, tucking her into his side in a brief half-hug. “All I want is for y’all to have a good time.”

“Have you been to Pride before?” Bobbi asked.

“Robbie and I went when we first started dating,” he said. “We wanted to go a couple other years but we wanted to take Gabe with us, and most of the events aren’t exactly wheelchair friendly.”

Bobbi frowned. “That sucks.”

“It does,” Trip agreed. “But I’m still happy to be here with you.”

“I’m happy you’re here, too,” Bobbi said. Being here in the center of the chaos wouldn’t be nearly as fun if she wasn’t secure in Trips’ presence and her safety — and Kora’s — with him. “Did you ever tell Mom and Dad you weren’t straight?” Bobbi asked after a long moment of silence between them. It wasn’t silent around them, but the noise had a strange way of fading out when Trip was close by.

“Nah, not officially,” Trip said, tugging her closer. “If they haven’t figured it out by now, that’s on them.”

“They might not want to assume.” Though Bobbi wasn’t sure what other conclusion could be drawn from Trip taking both of his queer younger sisters to Pride while also sharing finances, a house, and every large life decision with a “close friend”.

“You’re a good kid,” Trip told her, shaking his head. “I promise it’s not as big of a deal for me as it is for you and Kora.”

Bobbi nodded, focusing on the back of her sister’s head for a moment. Kora leaned over the metal barrier between herself and the street, peering down the avenue to see if the parade was on its way yet. After her first failed attempt at a grand coming out her sister had settled for something smaller — a car ride with their parents that ended with the truth about how she felt about her best friend, the transfer of the flag on her bedroom wall to her bedroom door. It had happened so quietly that if Bobbi hadn’t known to look for the difference, she wouldn’t have seen them. Still, Kora seemed content with the quiet. If she wasn’t, she hadn’t told Bobbi as much.

“I still don’t know how to talk about it most of the time,” Bobbi admitted. “There’s always just so much happening, and making room for that conversation just… isn’t important.”

“If it’s not a priority, it’s not a priority,” Trip said, voice sure and smooth as ever. “But not being a priority and not being important are different.”

“You’re a very wise man,” Bobbi said.

“I get it from our mama,” Trip grinned. “Trust me. We have our whole lives to figure these things out, and whenever we wanna talk our parents will be there.”

“Yeah.” Bobbi dipped her head against Trip’s shoulder.

“They’re coming!” Kora shouted, turning around to beckon Trip and Bobbi closer to her. Bobbi did as she was commanded, and sure enough, the first float was rolling down the street. It looked like a unicorn had vomited on it, rainbow in every possible place there could be a rainbow. The people around them in the crowd started whooping and clapping as the float rumbled past, I’m Coming Out blaring over tinny speakers. The woman balanced on top of the float waved to the crowd and Kora waved back frantically, excitement rolling off her in waves.

A deep, fluttery feeling lodged in Bobbi’s chest. She had spent her whole life searching for a feeling of belonging, and she’d found it in her family and her friends. Now she was finally safe enough to find it in other places, too — in communities of people who were like her, who mattered to her. A pink, purple, and blue flag streamed off the back of the first float, and Bobbi swallowed around the unexpected tightness in her throat.

Pride was a celebration: that was the truth. But it was also a memorial of everything that had happened — the fights and the riots and the clawing for every right they had. A memorial of what had passed, and a hope of better days ahead. A rainbow, after all, was a promise: storms would pass, and sun would come again. To say it felt appropriate for where she was in her life now was an understatement. She had survived, and she would survive again —

And it was about damn time she celebrated.

---

It was long past sunset when the three siblings returned home. The parade had ended mid-afternoon, but they’d gone to check out the nearby festival of tents and gotten entirely lost there looking at everything on offer. They’d found a booth selling jacket patches and Kora had spent at least fifteen minutes inspecting every patch and talking the ear off of the woman behind the table. Bobbi had snuck a quick photograph of Kora to send Vic and Izzy, telling Trip the story of the jacket out of the corner of her mouth so Kora wouldn’t hear it.

Eventually she’d settled on a retro rainbow patch to commemorate her first Pride and left the booth with a happy wave to the woman running it.

Trip had insisted Bobbi needed something to remember their first outing together by, but Bobbi didn’t have a convenient leather jacket to buy things for at every possible opportunity. Getting a shirt seemed kind of overdone, and none of the designs were jumping out at her. Trip was infinitely patient with her as she pursed her lips and hemmed and hawed. He was lucky Kora didn’t leave with armfuls of merch given everything she oohed and aahed over.

Bobbi had eventually settled on getting a small enamel pin emblazoned with the words Come As You Are. It was still cradled in her hands when they pulled up the driveway, long after when they said they’d be back.

“You let me do the talking,” Trip advised. He figured it was his job as oldest sibling to explain how going to a parade had turned into a parade, and a shopping spree, and dinner, and an impromptu dance party. Bobbi didn’t disagree, but she also felt bad for letting Trip take all the heat when she and Kora had been just as complicit in their decision making. If she had asked to go home at dinner Trip would’ve gladly taken them back, no questions asked. But she’d seen the food trucks, and, well… she was weak. Very weak.

The front door was unlocked when Trip tested it, and what they expected to be a slinky, apologetic affair was anything but. The entranceway was bursting with rainbow balloons and when they pushed through the latex forest and into the family room, the rest of the family members had on garish polka-dot party hats in just as many colors.

“Oh, finally!” Daisy said, looking away from the movie playing on the screen. She pulled something from out of her pocket, and Bobbi only realized it was a champagne popper a half-second before the noise came. Cap gave an indignant huff at being woken from his nap by the loud noise, but settled back down when he realized it was not the result of anyone giving him food or attempting to play with him.

“Happy Pride! We made cake!”

“My five favorite words,” Trip said, rubbing his hands together. “Sorry we’re late, Mama.”

“I figured you might stay out longer than you thought. Did you enjoy the parade?”

“It was awesome!” Kora enthused.

“You might not want to give her too much cake,” Trip chuckled. “They were throwing out Skittles left and right and I think little miss here ate her body weight in sugar.”

“It’s just one weekend. It can’t hurt,” Melinda said with a smile. “You only get your first Pride once, don’t you?”

“Yeah,” Trip said, smile softening. “Maybe next year y’all can come with.”

“Maybe we can,” Melinda agreed. “And will Robbie be coming, too?”

Bobbi froze, looking from her brother to her mother and back again. It was probably the least subtle reaction she could’ve had to the first acknowledgment of Trip’s relationship, but after a technicolor, glitter-fueled day, it was difficult to muster any sort of subtlety.

“That depends on a lot of factors,” Trip answered, unperturbed. “Robbie’s still petitioning for more wheelchair access on the parade route. But maybe they’ll have that by next year, too.”

“Maybe they will,” Melinda said.

“Cake?” Fitz asked hopefully, redirecting the conversation effortlessly and perhaps accidentally.

“We spent forever making it rainbow,” Daisy piped up. “And we didn’t let Mom touch it so it’s actually edible.”

“Thank goodness,” Bobbi said.

“What do you have there, kiddo?” Phil asked, gesturing to Bobbi’s pin.

“Oh,” she said, lifting it up for him to see. “I was thinking maybe I’ll put it on my backpack when I go back to school.”

“That’s a great idea.” Phil smiled at her, the smile she had come to think of as his Dad Smile — the one that was soft and warm and said I’m proud of you without having to say it.

The family settled around the kitchen table as Daisy maneuvered the cake out of the refrigerator. Bobbi set her pin next to the fork Phil handed her, contentment settling around her like Elena’s quilt still neatly-folded at the foot of her bed.

She had came as she was, as she had been, as they wanted her to be — and her family had loved her for it.

---

The day after the Pride parade Bobbi woke up late and still covered in glitter. By the time she got downstairs Trip had already departed the couch, but he had left behind a note for her — and something else.

“No fucking way,” Bobbi gasped.

“Language,” Melinda admonished from the kitchen table, sipping what must’ve been her second or third cup of tea.

“Sorry, Mom. I gotta run.”

“Why are you running? You haven’t even had breakfast — lunch — whatever meal you want to call it.”

“I have to see Anne,” Bobbi said. “I’ll eat brunch when I get home, promise.”

Melinda seemed to see the futility in arguing further and waved Bobbi out the door. Luckily she’d brushed her hair and her teeth before coming downstairs, otherwise she would’ve looked even more of a mess when she hopped in the car.

She did not speed on her way to Anne’s house because she was a responsible citizen, but Bobbi did consider it. What Bobbi did do was practically sprint up Anne’s driveway and to her front door.

Luckily it was her best friend who answered when she rang the doorbell.

“Here,” Bobbi said, shoving the comic book Trip had left behind into Anne’s hands.

“Hello to you too,” Anne half-said, half-laughed. Then she looked down at the comic book in her hands and realized why, exactly, Bobbi was so excited. “No way!”

“Yes way!” Bobbi yipped.

“I — what — how?” Anne asked, stepping back so Bobbi could come inside.

“My brother and his boyfriend were apparently at some yard sale where the guy had a ton of comics and this was one of them!” Bobbi said breathlessly. “He remembered what you told him at my party and he got it for you.”

“For me?” Anne repeated.

“Well, yeah.” Bobbi blinked. “Did you think I was going to show you this and not let you have it?”

“Fair,” Anne said. “I just — wow, Bobbi. This is…”

“Amazing? Awesome? Terrifying?”

“All of the above.” Anne flung her arms around Bobbi’s neck, pulling her into a tight hug. “Thank you.”

“You really should be thanking Trip,” Bobbi said, but she allowed Anne to continue hugging her nonetheless.

“I only know Trip because he’s your brother. He wouldn’t have known to get the comic without you,” Anne reasoned. “And then it would still be languishing in a cardboard box somewhere, alone and unloved.”

“That would be a tragedy,” Bobbi said, stepping back from Anne. She stifled a laugh into her hand when she realized the stubborn glitter sticking to her skin had somehow rubbed off on her friend’s neck and arms. Dr. Weaver was going to have questions later.

“Do you want to see the rest of the collection?” Anne offered. “Honestly can’t believe I’ve never shown you before.”

“We’re always busy when we’re together,” Bobbi said. “Or, we were.”

“I am unfortunately still busier than I would like to be given we’re no longer in school,” Anne sighed, leading Bobbi upstairs. They passed her bedroom and went to the room at the end of the hall, which Bobbi had always assumed was an office. When they got inside, Bobbi found her assumption to be half-true. There was a desk and a nice office chair, but there was also a wall of comic books, neatly displayed and labeled.

“I’ll have to rearrange these to put this one in where it belongs,” Anne said, “if you want to take a seat.”

Bobbi sunk into the office chair — it was really nice, real leather and everything. “What have you been busy with?” she asked. She and Anne texted daily, but almost never about what they were actually doing. They tended to talk more about science news or random thoughts they had or just seeing something that reminded them of the other person, not blow-by-blows of how they spent their time.

“Packing,” Anne sighed. “MIT offered me an early move-in date and I said yes.”

“Early move-in?” Bobbi said. She already was getting so little time with Anne, and now it was going to be even less?

“I’ll be around for your birthday party and the Fourth of July,” Anne promised. “My move-in day is July 15th, and then I’ll spend the rest of July and August getting to know campus and other freshmen from out of state.”

“That’s soon,” Bobbi commented, unable to keep the sadness from creeping into her voice.

“I know.” Anne turned back to her wall of comics, her shoulders tensing. “But I know it’s probably for the better that I get to know new people, and I think it’ll be better too for my parents to get used to me being gone.”

Bobbi nodded even though Anne couldn’t see it. Unlike the Coulsons, the Weavers only had one child and would essentially be empty nesters when Anne was away. It would be a difficult transition for them, too.

“I’m going to miss you,” Bobbi whispered, voice shaking. Everything Anne said was true: she needed to meet new people, she needed time to adjust, everyone around her needed time to adjust. But no matter how true it was, it still hurt to think about her best friend being hours and hours away, sooner than she expected.

Anne sniffled, turning around to reveal red-rimmed eyes. “I’m going to miss you, too.”

Bobbi stood up, crossing the distance between them to scoop Anne into another hug. Everything was changing and the two of them were stumbling into the dark — but at least they were stumbling into the dark together, with the promise that no matter what happened, they would still be friends.

Chapter Text

“Why did they get rid of Take Your Child to Work Day?” Daisy asked as they spilled out Phil’s car and made their way to the entrance of Phil’s warehouse.

“Budget cuts,” Phil deadpanned, unlocking the door and shooing his children in. Daisy entered first, followed by Fitz and Kora. Because Bobbi had been to Phil’s workplace just a few months ago she wasn’t as giddy about getting to visit and took up the rear.

“I think they just needed to cut some holidays so we didn’t end up going to school until July,” Bobbi said. It was her siblings’ first Monday off of school, nearly a month after Bobbi had graduated, and it seemed like the Fourth of July — which was, bizarrely, Phil’s favorite holiday — was just around the corner. Then again, summer always seemed to fly by. Bobbi hoped this summer, at least, would slow down enough for her to enjoy it.

“Don’t touch anything,” Phil reminded as his gaggle of children spread out across the workshop. Fitz gravitated towards Phil’s hot table, the biggest mechanical doohickey on the premises. It allowed Phil to heat up paintings for the various parts of conservation that he worked on, though he obviously turned it off overnight so there would be no warehouse fires. Kora stopped in front of the wall of paintings on display (many of them conserved paintings whose owners had never turned up to claim them), and Daisy squinted at Phil’s filing system for the paintings he still had to work on. Bobbi, for her part, stuck close to her dad. This was technically a part of their Father’s Day gift to him, though Bobbi was beginning to doubt it was a gift and not a hassle.

“What’re you thinking, kiddo?” Phil asked, looking over at Bobbi.

She shrugged. “Just thinking about the last time I was here.”

“Practically a different life, huh?” Phil asked, slinging an arm around her shoulders. Bobbi stepped into him, sighing softly. The last time she’d come into work with Phil had been the first time she’d called him her dad and meant it — now they were here, celebrating Father’s Day, and it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

“I was a much better assistant than these hooligans,” Bobbi said as her siblings all gravitated towards the giant metal hot table. If they weren’t careful something was going to catch fire in the next five minutes.

“Assistant would be a generous description of your duties.”

“I helped get the door!”

“You did.” Phil pressed a kiss to Bobbi’s temple, studiously ignoring how she had almost had a panic attack before helping him open said door. “Mike isn’t coming by today, though. No museum pieces for now.”

“What are you working on?” Bobbi asked, unable to help her curiosity. Since she had spent most of her last workday with Phil in his office, she didn’t know much of what he did other than that it involved paintings — lots of paintings, as evidenced by his wall of projects to complete.

“A private collector just bought a dozen new paintings at an estate sale so I’m cleaning them to see if there’s anything in the painting that can establish provenance,” Phil explained. “Basically anything that can prove the artist is who the seller claims they were. We can’t see a signature underneath all the dirt so cleaning is the first step. And then if they like what they find I might retouch them and get them display-ready so the collector can sell them or donate them to a museum.”

“Sounds cool,” Bobbi said.

“At least one of you thinks so.” Fitz had started twiddling with knobs on the hot table, and Phil sighed, squeezing Bobbi close before releasing her. “I should remind him what the meaning of “no touching anything” is,” he said.

“Use your disappointed dad voice,” Bobbi suggested. “That works wonders.”

“I’m not going to use my disappointed dad voice the day after Father’s Day,” Phil scoffed. “That would make me a bad dad.”

“No it wouldn’t,” Bobbi said. “It would make you a dad who knows how to leverage the situation he finds himself in. I enjoy having a father with situational awareness.”

“And I enjoy having a daughter who doesn’t try to manipulate me to get her brother into trouble,” Phil said, raising his eyebrows at her. “Try harder next time.”

Bobbi’s lower lip snuck out in a pout. She would be the first to admit it was juvenile, but she also knew without a doubt that her pouting face tugged on Phil’s heartstrings like nothing else.

“Urgh, don’t do this to me!” Phil huffed. “I’m still not going to use my disappointed dad voice on Fitz, though.”

“All I require is a written admission that I didn’t manipulate you.”

“You do realize how that sounds like even more manipulation, right?”

“Da!” Fitz called from his place at the hot table. “I have a great idea.”

“Uh oh.” Phil dropped all pretense of teasing as he hurried over to Fitz’s side. “What’s that?”

“What if we inserted hologram projectors into the tables? So you could scan the paintings and then manipulate them that way.”

“…Fitz,” Phil said after a long pause. “This table is supposed to heat things up. I do not need any holograms to be able to do that.”

“Yeah, but then you could… you could…” Fitz’s brow furrowed.

“I think maybe a holotable would have to be something you used for your engineering stuff, Fitz,” Kora said sadly. “Art restorationists don’t have much use for high-tech stuff like that.”

Phil scoffed. “I have plenty of high tech stuff! This table isn’t as simple as it looks!”

Bobbi slid closer to Daisy, bending her head to whisper in her sister’s ear. “We’re going to get a lecture on how exactly this table works and all the ways it’s a technological advancement, aren’t we?”

“Oh, for sure,” Daisy whispered back, smiling.

Phil launched into a more detailed explanation of what the table did and how it was, in fact, high-tech. Fitz pulled a notebook out from inside of his cardigan (which he honestly didn’t need, since it was June) and began scribbling down notes. Even if Phil was perfectly happy with his table, if Fitz couldn’t install holograms he was going to find a way to improve it somehow.

Bobbi smiled to herself as she stood in the center of the workshop, watching Phil gesticulate wildly as he continued his table tangent.

It went without saying, but she was pretty damn lucky to have a dad like Phil.

---

“Happy belated Father’s Day!” Bobbi chirped when Mack opened the door. “My godson, if you please.”

Mack was too tired to argue, handing the baby over once Bobbi was inside and there was no chance of accidentally dropping him. Hunter shuffled in after Bobbi, shutting the door behind himself.

“Instructions are on the counter. Mattie’s laundry basket is in the nursery.” Mack didn’t bother stifling his yawn. “If you need us we’ll be in the bedroom.”

“Take a shower and a nap,” Bobbi advised. “Aunt Bobbi and Uncle Hunter to the rescue. Right, Mattie?”

Mattie blinked, but that was more because he had just realized he was in a different set of arms than before than because he agreed with her. Bobbi would take any response she got.

Mack trudged to his bedroom, leaving Bobbi and Hunter to find the list of chores he and Elena had written out for them to complete in their visit. Nominally, it was their joint Father’s Day gift to Mack for his first Father’s Day as a father, but really they’d just needed an excuse to come over and offer a break.

Since Mattie was still so young, Elena wasn’t willing to be apart from him for long — certainly not long enough to recharge from all the trials and tribulations of taking care of a newborn. The compromise they’d settled on was Bobbi visiting and taking care of Mattie while Mack and Elena rested in their bedroom. Bobbi wasn’t confident the resting would stay resting for long, but she hoped the exhaustion of being up several times a night would win out over Elena’s relentless desire to be up and doing something.

“I’ll get started on the laundry if you want to keep holding him,” Hunter said.

“Bring me the list?” Bobbi implored as she settled onto the sofa, Mattie resting safely in the crook of her elbow.

Hunter did as he was told, and Bobbi scanned over the quite comprehensive list of everything they were supposed to get done as well as information of how to care for a three-week-old. Mattie only had about ten more minutes of awake time before he needed another nap, and according to the reference materials he could either sleep in his crib or on the Montessori bed in the corner of the living room. Bobbi predicted they’d use the bed in the living room to reduce the chances of Mattie’s cries waking up Mack and Elena as well.

The list of chores wasn’t too astronomical for the four hours they were going to be at Mack and Elena’s. In addition to the laundry Mack and Elena were hoping for the dishes to be done and the living room at least cursorily cleaned, all of which should theoretically be possible during Mattie’s naps.

“I hope you nap well,” Bobbi said to her nephew, brushing his dark hair back from his forehead so she could place a gentle kiss there. “If I give you back to your mama and papa grumpy they’re never going to let me come over again, so keep that in mind when you decide to fuss.”

Mattie blinked again.

“That’s what I thought,” Bobbi smiled. She continued rambling to Mattie about whatever came to her mind — which happened to be how to do laundry, since Hunter was rustling around in the next room while he attempted to find the detergent for Mack and Elena’s washer. Talking to babies was supposed to be good for their brain development, but it was surprisingly difficult to keep a conversation up with someone who didn’t understand what you were saying and definitely didn’t have the capability to respond.

Mattie’s eyes glazed over in about five minutes, which the sheet said was when it was time to start getting him ready for his nap. Babies as young as Mattie couldn’t soothe themselves to sleep, which meant it was the caregiver’s job to calm them down enough that they could drift off. As babysitter and aunt extraordinaire, Bobbi had to get Mattie from sleepy to sleeping.

She could do this.

Bobbi stood from the sofa, beginning to sway back and forth slowly. Mattie looked somewhat alarmed when she first stood, but after he realized she was just rocking him he settled back into her arms, yawning adorably.

“Hush little Mattie, don’t say a word, Bobbi’s going to buy you a mockingbird…” Lullabies were supposed to be good for babies, right? Bobbi didn’t remember many of them from her own childhood, but she had vivid memories of sitting on her father’s knee while he made up goofy lyrics about what he would buy her if her mockingbird wouldn’t sing. Bobbi’s heart tugged in her chest as she half-sang, half-hummed the bits of the song she remembered, swaying Mattie back and forth all the while. She kept going even after her nephew’s eyes had slipped shut, not wanting to accidentally startle him back awake.

By the time Bobbi had Mattie safely laid on his bed, Hunter had finished putting the laundry in and was filling up the sink with hot, soapy water for dishes.

“He’s a cute little bugger, isn’t he?” Hunter asked when Bobbi came into the kitchen.

“He really is.” Bobbi took her place at the sink, beginning to rinse the plates and casserole dishes he had already scrubbed. She made a mental note to check Mack and Elena’s freezer to make sure they still had enough meals for the foreseeable future. According to the Internet (which was never wrong, especially not about subjects such as parenting and politics), the first few weeks of having a baby were the easiest. Everyone wanted to come over and help and hold the new baby, and they brought food along with them to justify their visit. After the shiny newness wore off, though, parents were still exhausted and needed to be fed. Bobbi and Hunter were going to be feeding her siblings tonight, but it didn’t feel like enough when all she was doing every day was lazing around and trying to figure out ways to fill her summer.

“It’s nice to know he’s going to grow up with a family that loves him,” Hunter said. “Really loves him.”

Bobbi glanced over at Hunter, noting the rigidity of his posture and the tightness in his shoulders. “You were in your first foster family when you were his age,” she said, fighting to keep her voice neutral.

“Mm hmm.” Hunter raked the sponge over a particularly stubborn spot of tomato sauce. “And I don’t remember a damn thing about them except that they stuck me with this stupid name.”

“Lance isn’t a stupid name,” Bobbi said. Even if he preferred Hunter — even more so now that he knew it was the name his biological mother had given him — Bobbi would always have a soft spot for the name only she and his family ever called him. He got to call her Bob and she got to call him Lance and that meant something.

“It feels strange to be jealous of someone so tiny,” Hunter said, handing the casserole dish he had been scrubbing over to Bobbi once it had passed his inspection. “He hasn’t even started his life yet.”

“But he is going to have a good life,” Bobbi said. “It’s normal to wish you had gotten that, too.”

“You’re very good at this,” Hunter huffed. “The comforting thing.”

She nudged her shoulder against his. “You’re good at it, too. But we’re both better at comforting each other than comforting ourselves.”

“We are, aren’t we?” Hunter hummed to himself as he picked up another dish. “I’m happy for Mattie. Anyone would be lucky to have you as their aunt.”

“You’re his uncle,” Bobbi offered hesitantly. “If you want to be.”

Hunter paused. “Are you asking me to marry you?”

“Not officially,” Bobbi said. “We still have a lot to talk about. But I know I’ve been so back-and-forth lately —”

“— which is understandable, given everything that’s happening —”

“— and I just want you to know that the end goal hasn’t changed. Just the path we take to get there,” Bobbi finished. “I want it to be us, at the end of it all. Like you said: you and me.”

“You and me,” Hunter echoed back. “And your parents and my parents and your siblings and my siblings and everyone else.”

“You and me and everyone else,” Bobbi laughed. “It takes a village to raise a child. And to keep a young adult from accidentally stumbling into something they can’t handle.”

“Like taxes?”

“And car insurance,” Bobbi put in. “And probably a lot of other adult-y things we don’t even know we don’t know about.”

“Good thing we’ve just about doubled the number of adults in our lives, then,” Hunter said. “Romance is good for more than just kissing.”

“Who’d have thunk.” Bobbi leaned against Hunter, smiling. “I love you.”

“I love you more.”

---

“Shh, shh, shh.” Bobbi bounced Mattie in her arms as they gathered around the dinner table. He grunted unhappily, wiggling in her grip until she shifted him into a different position.

“Silly boy,” Bobbi murmured as he settled into her.

“He can be very particular,” Elena said, smiling fondly at her son across the table.

“Yeah, we’ve noticed,” Hunter laughed. “He needs his bottle at precisely the right temperature, he needs to be rocked precisely the right way, if you don’t fasten his nappy at precisely the right angle there’s hell to pay…”

“Are all babies like this?” Bobbi asked.

Mack shrugged. “We’ve only got the one.”

Right. Bobbi forgot sometimes that for all their competence, Mack and Elena were just first-time parents. First-time parents who looked markedly better after a shower and a nap, and would hopefully look better still once they’d eaten the dumplings Bobbi had painstakingly prepared during Mattie’s second nap of the afternoon.

Keeping up conversation wasn’t anyone’s first priority with steaming hot dumplings in front of them, and Bobbi suspected even after their nap Mack and Elena weren’t at full brain capacity. That was just fine with Bobbi — she had to find a way to eat without spilling on the baby, which took a surprising amount of finesse and brainpower.

“If there’s anything else you want us to do after you put him down for the night, we don’t have any plans,” Bobbi said, maneuvering another dumpling into her mouth without dripping any sauce on Mattie’s swaddle.

“I think we’re good, Barbara,” Mack said. “The most important thing left on our to-do list is getting a birthday present for you, and that’s not exactly an errand we can send you on.”

“You could,” Bobbi hedged before Elena glared at her. Even with dark bags under her eyes and her hair in a messy bun, Elena was a fearsome sight. In fact, the sleep deprivation made her look more fierce, not less.

“If it were any other birthday we probably would’ve given you an IOU,” Mack admitted. “But since it’s your eighteenth and it’s special to you we want to make sure we’re there.”

“It’s okay if you can’t be,” Bobbi said earnestly. “Hunter and I have only been with Mattie for a few hours and I can see how doing it full-time would be exhausting. I don’t want you to burn yourselves out for me.”

“It’s your first birthday with the family,” Elena said through a yawn. “Besides, it will be nice to get out of the house for your party. And your mother has been quite persistent about babysitting eventually.”

“She’s quite persistent about everything,” Bobbi corrected. “As long as you know I don’t expect anything.”

“That’s the problem,” Mack said, leveling her with a glare. “Just because we have the baby now doesn’t mean you’re any less important to us. We want you to still expect us to show up, because we want you to know you still matter.”

“I know I matter,” Bobbi insisted, even if her heart beat a little faster at hearing her brother proclaim it so openly. “But Mattie matters to me, too, and I want to make sure I’m not doing anything that will take you both away from him.” She looked down at her nephew, still cuddled safely in her arms, and sighed. “Family gets complicated the more of it you get, I guess.” It hadn’t ever been something she considered when it was just her, but now Bobbi had so many more people and relationships to care about. She loved Mack, and he would always be her brother — but he also had four other siblings to care about, not to mention a wife and her whole family, and now a child of his own. Because she cared about Mack, she cared that everything else in his life was going right, too, not just his relationship with her.

Which got to be kind of exhausting, when you loved as many people as Bobbi did now.

“It does get more complicated,” Mack agreed. He reached across the table to settle a hand on Bobbi’s. “But that’s why you’ve got me.”

“Us,” Elena corrected.

“All of us,” Hunter added, lest he be forgotten.

“All of us,” Mack agreed. “The next few months are going to be hard, but we’ll figure it out. And we’ll be at your birthday party, with a gift that we purchased without your help.”

“If you insist,” Bobbi sighed.

“We do,” Mack and Elena said in concert.

“Thank you,” Bobbi said after a long pause. “For letting me be here.”

Bobbi had no doubt that things had changed and would change again — but she also didn’t doubt that she was grateful to be here, now, with the people she loved.

Chapter Text

“Bobbi.” A poke to her ribs.

“Bobbi.” A jab to her stomach.

“Bobbi.” A finger pressed against her cheek.

“I’m awake,” Bobbi grumbled, rolling over and pulling her pillow over her head. She was awake, but she wasn’t sure she wanted to be.

“Bobbi,” Daisy whined. “You have to wake up, it’s your birthday!”

Bobbi bolted upright, nearly braining Daisy in the process. It was her birthday. Her eighteenth birthday. The birthday she had spent most of her memorable life counting down to. One of the most important birthdays of her life, if only because it looked so different from the way she expected it to.

“Come on,” Daisy said. “Mom won’t let us start breakfast until you’re awake.”

“You weren’t supposed to wake her up!” Kora squeaked from the doorway. “It’s her birthday, she’s allowed to sleep in!”

“It’s okay,” Bobbi said, rolling out of bed and righting her balance. She made a mental note to ask her parents for a summer pajama set — it was officially too hot for her Baby Yoda onesie and it didn’t feel the same to wear shorts and an old shirt to bed. Having designated pajamas was a luxury, but it was a luxury Bobbi enjoyed indulging in. “I want to spend as much of my birthday as possible awake and with my favorite people.”

“Well, Fitz will be at breakfast, so you may have to keep your expectations low,” Daisy snickered.

“I love all of my siblings, even the one who likes my boyfriend better than me,” Bobbi said diplomatically. She exited her bedroom, ducking to press a kiss to the top of Kora’s head. Her younger sister’s concern over her welfare would never not be adorable; she honestly, earnestly believed in making everyone around her happy and Bobbi was a bit sad to think the world would eventually take that away from her. Or maybe not, if you were an optimist.

Bobbi decided to be an optimist today. It was her birthday, the sun was shining, and she had her baby sisters with her. Things were already great, and they were only going to get better.

“Morning, Mom! Morning, Dad!” Bobbi chirped as she came into the kitchen.

“Daisy Louise,” Melinda said in her sternest mom voice. “Why is your sister awake?”

“No reason.” Daisy rocked back and forth on her heels. Bobbi knew she was a better liar than that, so she must’ve accepted she was going to get a lecture from Melinda eventually and decided to get it out of the way.

“It’s okay, Mom,” Bobbi said. “I’m starving.” Her stomach growled in agreement.

“Pancakes for you, my not-a-baby-anymore,” Melinda said, bustling around the stove. “Snowman?”

“Yes, please.” Bobbi took her place at the kitchen table, startling slightly when a minute later there was a cup of orange juice at her place.

“What?” Fitz grumbled. “I’m not allowed to pour my sister a glass of juice on her birthday?”

“It’s allowed,” Bobbi said, using every last ounce of her willpower to keep from bursting into laughter at how obviously put-upon his grumpy persona was that morning. “Thanks, Fitz.”

“Just don’t expect it every birthday,” he said, sitting down next to her. “This one’s special is all.”

“I know it is,” Bobbi said. She didn’t expect special treatment every birthday, but she couldn’t say no to the Coulsons wanting to go all-out for her eighteenth. It was her first birthday with them in addition to her first birthday as an adult, both of which were strange to think about. She hadn’t known her family was waiting for her when she’d turned seventeen — she thought she’d spend this birthday at the Hartleys, mourning more than she was celebrating.

There would be space to mourn, too. Bobbi would never not be able to go through her birthday without wishing her biological parents were there with her, because she thought about them at every milestone. Mack and Elena believed her parents were still there somehow, though, and their belief was enough for Bobbi.

“Do you want to open presents after breakfast or after your party?” Melinda asked as she served up Bobbi’s pancakes.

“After the party is fine.” Bobbi had told her friends they didn’t need to bring presents, but she also knew them well enough to know that insistence wouldn’t stop them. She wondered briefly if it was bad of her to expect presents even after saying they weren’t required, but decided against feeling down on herself; she didn’t expect them out of an inflated sense of her own self-importance, but out of the knowledge that her friends were giving people who couldn’t leave a birthday unremarked.

“Kora and I got the best gift,” Daisy announced.

“They wouldn’t let me pitch in for it,” Fitz added — whether to add to the mystery or because he was grumpy about being awake still, Bobbi didn’t know.

“I very much doubt you got the best gift,” Melinda said, “because Dad and I did.”

“Trip said his gift was the best when I called him yesterday,” Bobbi said around a mouthful of pancake. “So you might have some stiff competition.” She should’ve guessed the Coulsons would make gift-giving just as much of a competition as they did everything else, especially after her Christmas experience, but Bobbi hadn’t considered it until the days before her birthday led to several declarations of being the best gift-givers.

“Well Trip did not wake you up to tell you how much he loved you this morning, did he?”

“I’m pretty sure you didn’t do that either,” Bobbi pointed out. “You just wanted breakfast.”

“And to spend time with my favorite sister.”

“Hey!” Kora squeaked.

“Favorite older sister,” Daisy amended, patting Kora’s shoulder consolingly. “Who I love enough to help keep on a regular sleep schedule.”

“Your reason for waking me up has changed five times in the last thirty minutes,” Bobbi said, smirking. “Are you sure I’m your favorite older sister?”

“Who else would it be?”

“Elena?” Bobbi’s eyebrow ticked up. “She’s my favorite older sister.”

Daisy considered it. “Well, she did give us all Mattie.”

“Yes, yes she did.” Mack and Elena were bringing Mattie to Bobbi’s party as his first real social outing, and Bobbi couldn’t be more excited. She’d visited Mack and Elena more than once since their Father’s Day outing and had gotten more comfortable being around her nephew. It helped that he was getting bigger and Bobbi was less worried about accidentally breaking him.

“I’ll take it under consideration,” Daisy declared, picking up her fork as Melinda returned with another plate of pancakes. “But you might get today. Given it is your birthday.”

“Really? I’d forgotten.”

Daisy rolled her eyes affectionately. “Shut up.”

“Make me.”

---

“Mack!” Bobbi was ready to vibrate out of her skin when she opened the door to let Mack, Elena, and Mattie inside. Cap trotted over to investigate them, pausing when he saw the baby carrier.

“Hey, Barbara.” Mack scooped her up into a hug. “Happy birthday.”

“Thank you.” Bobbi squeezed Mack hard — not that it did much to him, since he somehow managed to remain a block of muscle even when on a diet entirely consisting of reheated lasagnas.

“Your favorite person is asleep,” Elena said when Mack let go of Bobbi, “but he’ll be waking up soon.”

“You look pretty awake to me,” Bobbi teased, pulling her sister into a hug. Elena chuckled wryly. “Thank you for coming.”

“I wouldn’t miss it for the world,” Elena said. “You can tell we really love you because we both even showered before we came.”

Bobbi laughed. “You didn’t have to.” She would’ve accepted Mack and Elena at any level of bedraggled as long as they were there.

Cap had finished his inspection of the baby carrier and instead decided to peer distrustfully at the pastel rainbow-wrapped box in Elena’s hands.

“This is not for you,” she told the dog sternly. “It is for Bobbi.”

“I can put that with the other gifts,” Melinda said, appearing out of nowhere. “And I will take my grandson, please.” Melinda took the gift in one hand and the baby carrier in the other, leaving Mack and Elena both looking rather confused.

“We’re setting things up in the backyard if you want to hang out,” Bobbi said. “The porch swing is great for napping.”

“I remember that,” Mack said. “When’s Trip coming?”

“He, Robbie, and Gabe are supposed to get here right when the party starts,” Bobbi said. “Gabe had some thing this morning. A poetry slam, maybe?” Trip had mentioned it when he’d come to visit for Pride but Bobbi had been more impressed with how casually Trip had slid from talking about Robbie and Gabe only in the context of being his best friend and his best friend’s little brother to talking about them as his partner and the child he was co-parenting.

“I’m sure I’ll hear all about it when they get here,” Mack said. “Come on, Barbara. Just because it’s your birthday doesn’t mean you get out of work.”

“I think that’s exactly what it means,” Bobbi said. “Besides, as Mattie’s godmother, it is my responsibility to watch him while you two sleep on the swing.”

“That’s what Mom is for,” Mack yawned. “You’re young and spry and capable of moving tables around.”

“Are you saying Mom isn’t young and spry?”

“Not when she’s possibly in earshot, no.”

Bobbi grinned. “Fine. I’ll help set up. But only if you two promise to rest.”

“I don’t think you’ll have to convince us,” Elena laughed. She wasn’t allowed to lift much anyways since she was still healing from delivery — a perfect excuse to sit, relax, and enjoy the summer sunshine.

---

The party had quickly ballooned — no pun intended — to a size Bobbi hadn’t anticipated. She and her parents had written the guest list together, but the people in the backyard looked much more real than the list of names they had brainstormed. Bobbi wouldn’t ask for anyone not to be there, but the physical reality of how many people loved her was overwhelming in the best way. There almost wasn’t enough room in the backyard for everyone to move around comfortably, and a few groups had broken off to go back into the house (including Mack and Elena with Mattie, who was doing an admirable job with being around so many strangers but could hardly fall asleep for his next nap in such an overstimulating environment).

Only one family was missing. Bobbi checked her phone again. The Hartleys couldn’t have forgotten, could they? No, they wouldn’t forget her birthday. They had known about the party just as long as Bobbi had, and even if they hadn’t known there was a party, they would’ve visited just to wish her well.

“What’s the matter?” Anne asked when she noticed Bobbi checking her phone for the dozenth time. “Waiting for Hunter?”

“They didn’t say they’d be late.” Bobbi felt a little pathetic for letting tardiness upset her as much as it did, but the Hartleys were her family and she wanted them with her.

“They’ll be here,” Anne said firmly. “And I’m sure there’s a good reason they’re running behind.”

“I know.” There was no way Bobbi could believe they’d actually forgotten about her, but it was always nice to have someone else reiterate what she already knew to be true. Anxiety was hardly ever rational, and combating it took a unique cocktail of self-assuredness and external help.

Bobbi distracted herself by making her way over to the tree where her brothers were currently attempting to hang a piñata. For an engineer Fitz seemed to have a tenuous understanding of physics and how much strength was required to hold up a cardboard creature full of candy. Kora had picked out a giant whale piñata since it was the only one the party store had that was blue, but it was obviously proving a problem for Trip and Fitz.

“Do you need help?” she asked, bemused.

“Nah, girl, we’ve got it,” Trip said.

“They need help,” Robbie deadpanned.

“You could help instead of just standing there!” Trip said.

“I am spotting to make sure there is someone to catch your brother if he falls,” Robbie answered mildly. “I would hate to ruin your sister’s birthday with a hospital visit.”

“No hospitals,” Bobbi agreed. “What do you need help with?”

“The knot won’t hold,” Trip said.

“Weren’t you a Boy Scout?”

“I got the Boy Scout attitude, not the Boy Scout training,” Trip said. “Fitz never did Scouts. Too many people beneath his genius.”

“That is not why!” Fitz insisted, letting go of the rope he was holding. The piñata crashed to the ground but, miraculously, did not break.

“Coming through! Coming through!”

Bobbi whipped around to see Hunter and Idaho entering the backyard, holding a cake that could only be described as giant. Four tiers and wide enough that two people had to carry it, the cake dominated the backyard as soon as it entered. It had whorls of white and blue frosting that reminded Bobbi of the waves off Lake Michigan, and the memories of visiting the beach with her parents brought a smile to her face.

The Hartley brothers set the cake down on a card table that had been cleared with remarkable quickness. Anne had Cap by the collar to keep him from unceremoniously topping Bobbi’s birthday cake, and Bobbi took the dog from her friend to bring him inside. Hunter jogged over to join her as she opened the back door and slipped inside.

“Dog incoming!” Bobbi called to anyone who was hanging out within earshot. She released Cap’s collar and the dog darted into the living room. Bobbi followed him just in time to see Cap nosing curiously at Mattie’s legs. The baby flailed around and that was when Cap decided he was not as interesting as first anticipated — or at least not interesting enough to brave accidentally getting kicked in the eye. He trotted off, leaving Bobbi and Hunter alone with Mack and Elena temporarily.

“Can I have my guy?” Hunter asked, already reaching to take Mattie off Mack’s knee. Neither of Mattie’s parents stopped Hunter when he settled the baby up on his shoulder, supporting the back of Mattie’s head and allowing the baby to peer around.

“He’s yours now?” Elena asked, amused.

“I’m at least in his top ten favorite people, so that counts,” Hunter said, smacking a kiss on Mattie’s cheek. “Right, love?”

Mattie squirmed.

“When he learns to talk, mark my words, his first word will be Lance.”

“Not Hunter?” Mack asked.

“I figure starting with polysyllables might be too unrealistic,” Hunter said, bouncing Mattie when he began to fuss.

“Oh, good, you’re here,” Melinda breathed when she came out of the kitchen and saw Hunter. “You picked up the cake alright?”

“Yes ma’am. It’s outside now. Idaho is guarding it from anyone who would dare try to eat before you get the candles on.”

“Thank you, Hunter. I’ll go grab those.” Melinda retreated back into the kitchen, and Bobbi’s brow furrowed. Something seemed… off.

“I’ll be right back.” She pressed a kiss to Hunter’s cheek and a gentler one to Mattie’s before following her mother to the kitchen.

She was opening various drawers, muttering under her breath in Mandarin as she did.

“Mama?” Bobbi asked carefully. “Is everything alright?”

“Of course.” Melinda’s voice was tight when she answered. “Ah, here they are.” She lifted a package of candles up, but didn’t turn around to face Bobbi.

“Mom?”

Melinda finally relented, turning to face her daughter with red-rimmed eyes.

Bobbi’s heart dropped. Had she done something wrong? “Why are you crying?”

“You’re just so big,” Melinda said, wiping at her eyes.

“I haven’t gotten any taller since I got here,” Bobbi defended, even though that wasn’t the point her mother was making and she knew it.

“I know,” Melinda sighed. She set the candles down so she could draw Bobbi into a hug. “But you’re so grown up now.”

“I’ll never be too grown up for you, Mama,” Bobbi promised, burying her nose in her mother’s hair. She could admit now how much she needed her parents to love her, how much she needed the feeling of being protected and safe. Bobbi doubted she would ever stop needing that, even when she got older and had even more of a sense of her own self than she did now. Everyone needed someplace safe to come back to after exploring the world, and Bobbi’s safe place would always be this — this house, this kitchen, her mother’s arms.

“I know, baby.” Melinda ran her hand through Bobbi’s hair, untangling a few knots created by the breeze outside and the restlessness of the day. “But I worry.”

Bobbi knew it was useless to insist her mother not worry about her, so she contented herself for adjusting her grip and holding Melinda tighter. She had been so obsessed with what today meant for her that she hadn’t stopped to think about what it meant to anyone else, least of all her parents. They were preparing to send her into a world that so far hadn’t shown her much kindness, and that had to be daunting, if not downright terrifying.

A soft knock on the wall broke them apart, and Bobbi turned to see her father standing in the doorway.

“Idaho might have to resort to fisticuffs if we don’t get the cake cut soon,” Phil said apologetically. “Candles?”

Melinda grabbed the candles she had put down on the table and held them up, wiping at her eyes one last time.

“Mack, Elena, Hunter, we’re going to cut the cake!” Bobbi called. The trio — and their intrepid sidekick, still resting comfortably on Hunter’s shoulder — appeared from the living room and joined the procession returning to the backyard.

Bobbi could barely contain the butterflies in her chest when she looked around and saw everyone she loved staring back at her. Her classmates; her friends; her family, old and new. They were all here for her, to celebrate her first step into adulthood and a life of her own — a life that was filled with so much more joy and light and love than she ever could have imagined.

Happy Birthday filled the air as Melinda stuck the blue wax candles into the cake and Phil lit all eighteen of them.

“Make a wish,” Melinda whispered when the song had faded.

Bobbi closed her eyes and took a deep breath —

But she had nothing left to wish for.