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Parker had never had a family. Not a real one anyway. She'd watched enough TV and movies to know how a family was supposed to behave and none of her parental stand-ins had even been that way with her.
It didn't bother her. She wouldn't fit in with a real family after all. Archie was as much of a father as she needed. Even if he never behaved like the fathers on TV, he taught her the skills she needed to survive and that was enough.
At least, that was how adult Parker felt. She hadn't been at all prepared for the long-buried feelings that setting foot inside that Serbian orphanage would suddenly drag up. And she had not been prepared for how quickly the faces of those children would bring her back to being six years old, back before she even was Parker, when all she had wanted had been a family.
In school, they had to write letters to Santa to tell him what they wanted for Christmas. She had hunched over her paper at the back of the classroom, concentrating hard. While the other kids were writing down skateboards and dolls, she had a much more important wish for Santa to fulfill.
When the teacher tried to take the paper from her at the end of the class, she screamed. The letter was for Santa and no one was going to see it except for him. Her teacher, it seemed, did not understand the sanctity of a letter to Santa and she had ripped it away from her to add to the pile of letters on her desk.
As the kids filed out that afternoon though, the pile was one paper lighter and Parker clutched her letter under her coat as she walked home. The house was, as usual, empty and she pulled a chair up so she could reach the cupboards to search for an envelope. Finding one, she carefully addressed it: Santa Claus, North Pole and checked that her letter covered everything she wanted.
To Santa,
For Christmas I want a family. Like the ones on TV.
- A mom
- A dad
- A brother or sister
- A home
She wanted a dad who would tell her he was proud of her. A mom who would take care of her and bring her hot drinks and soup when she was sick or upset. A brother or sister who would tease and annoy her but would stick up for her if she was ever in trouble. A home where she felt safe.
She wasn't sure how to spell all of those things, but she figured Santa would understand.
She stuffed the letter into the envelope and walked down the street to the post box. And she waited. Christmas came and went and Santa never delivered her family. Another Christmas came. And another. She grew older, began her career as a cat burglar, became Parker, met Archie and she pushed the memory of her Christmas letter out of her mind. Six-year-old Parker had been wrong. She didn't need a family. She didn't need anyone.
Voices behind her brought her back to the present and, as she hid under the bed, she tried to push the memory back to the part of her mind where she never ventured. But, skilled as she was at keeping those thoughts suppressed, once they came, getting rid of them again was another matter entirely.
The memory stayed and with it the memory of all those children in that cold, bare room. Every time she closed her eyes, it was all she could see and, as she tossed and turned in her hotel bed that night, so many other memories followed it. Cold, pain, tears, empty cupboards, screaming voices. They plagued her dreams, punctuated by Nicolas's voice at the party.
"Not everyone is worth saving."
She sat bolt upright in the bed, sweating and shaking.
"Yes, they are!" she yelled and, across the room, Sophie jolted awake.
"Parker? Parker? What's wrong?" she asked, sleepily.
"Nothing. I'm fine."
Sophie switched on her bedside lamp and looked at her in concern.
"Parker, It's okay to not be fine. I know this one is-"
"I said I'm fine, Sophie!" Parker snapped, and Sophie sighed.
"Okay, I'm sorry. But if you want to talk, I'm here."
"I'm fine," Parker repeated. "I just need some air."
Before Sophie had a chance to say anything else, Parker was out of the window and climbing the fire escape to the hotel roof. As she watched the sun begin to rise over Belgrade, she knew what she had to do.
Knowing what to do and knowing how to do it were, she discovered, two entirely different things. She hadn't thought further than her need to rescue the children and she was filled with terror as she saw three men inspecting the box of guns and, looking desperately for an exit, realized how impossible it seemed to be to get past them undetected.
The relief she felt when she heard Sophie's voice and saw her appear at the top of the stairs was indescribable, but she didn't have time to dwell on it as she quickly herded the kids up the stairs and then down and into the truck.
They drove away quickly, but then the truck stopped. They were so close. She couldn't let them down now.
"Why are we stopping? Go, go, go!" she yelled desperately. She turned and saw Nicolas and the other men running towards them, guns raised.
Parker threw herself across the doors of the truck and braced herself. She knew her body was little defense against their machine guns, but maybe it could save even one of those kids and give them a chance to get away.
She screwed her eyes shut as she heard the shots and she waited for the pain, but none came. She opened her eyes and felt her chest and stomach but there were no bullet holes, no blood. She turned to Sophie in confusion and Sophie smiled.
"Prop truck."
The next moment, Hardison appeared and they were hit by a wave of heat as the whole orphanage exploded. This brought back another memory; a happier one this time. The heat that she'd felt on her back as her foster father's house blew up. Blowing up the site of painful memories had been cathartic and, as the children cheered and the truck drove away, she hoped it was just as cathartic for them.
After a stop for Häagen-Dasz, where Parker and the kids ate what Sophie described as 'an obscene amount of ice-cream', and another in Paris, where Sophie bought what Parker described as 'an obscene amount of shoes', the crew were on a plane back to LA.
The others were sleeping but Parker was wide awake. They'd rescued them, she tried to remind herself. The children had all been placed into the care of the WHO and, while Parker struggled to trust the systems that were supposed to care for children but so often failed them, she had to believe that they were better off than they had been.
But the memories that Serbia had surfaced refused to be banished and sleep evaded her. She was still awake as the plane touched down and the others sleepily roused themselves to grab their bags.
It was early evening in LA and the team were silent as they piled into the car, exhausted by the combination of the time difference, the stress of their latest job, and that kind of semi-sleep that you get on an airplane which never felt satisfying, however much of it you had. Nate drove them back from the airport and Hardison and Eliot drifted off again beside her while Sophie napped in the front seat. Parker was as exhausted as any of them but, running on pure adrenaline and the fear of what she'd see if she closed her eyes, she remained awake.
As soon as they walked through the door, Parker disappeared into her own office to think. They were fine, she told herself again. They were safe.
Eliot was the first to put his head around her office door with questions about how she was and a sandwich.
"You only ate Häagen-Dasz yesterday," he explained as he put the plate down on her desk. "I thought you could use some decent food."
Hardison was next. He had the same questions about how she was doing and then he looked at her seriously.
"You know we've got your back, right? No matter what, we're here for you."
"Yeah, Hardison. I know."
A few minutes later, it was Nate's turn.
"You could have got yourself killed, you know."
"Yes, I know," she ground out, resisting the urge to toss the rest of her sandwich at his head. She was far too tired to deal with his nagging.
"You don't have to do it alone. Not anymore. It was stupid-"
He was seconds away from getting a plate to the temple. Even in her weary state, she had impeccable aim.
"-but it was brave. Really brave. And you did a great thing for those kids. I'm proud of you."
Sophie was last, coming into the office with two cups of hot tea. She put one down in front of Parker and held the other as she leaned against the desk.
"How are you doing?"
"I'm fine," Parker responded, quickly. Too quickly. She could feel Sophie looking at her and she hated when she did that. She saw far too much. Unlike Parker, who had always found reading people a tiresome challenge, Sophie seemed to be able to detect every thought and emotion with ease.
"It's okay to not be fine."
"You said that before," Parker pointed out as she sipped the tea.
"I know. I mean it. This job was difficult but those kids are going to have a much brighter future, thanks to you. You should be proud."
Parker didn't say anything. She was pleased and she was sure that she'd done the right thing but she couldn't get their faces out of her mind, or the worry of what would happen to them.
"It was incredibly dangerous though," Sophie went on when she didn't get a response. "Going off by yourself like that without even wearing your earbud."
"Nate and Hardison already did this lecture."
"I'm not lecturing you. Just reminding you that you don't work alone anymore. You have us."
Parker nodded.
"We were talking and we think that it would be better if we didn't all go home alone tonight, not after this one. Hardison's been on at us to watch Star Wars so we thought we'd all stay here and do that."
Reading people was usually a challenge for Parker, but this time it was clear as day. The others would be fine when they went home. This was for her.
"Will you stay and watch with us?" Sophie asked, hopefully.
Parker wanted to say no. Part of her wanted nothing more than to be alone. But then she remembered the memories and the nightmares that had thwarted her sleep for the last few days and she found herself nodding. Maybe Hardison's silly space movie would distract her.
She followed Sophie into the room where Hardison was excitedly setting up the movie. Nate and Eliot followed them in a moment later and put bowls of popcorn and bottles of soda down on the coffee table. As the opening credits appeared, Parker settled herself onto the sofa between Hardison and Sophie and she looked around at the team.
"We're a little more than a team," Hardison had told her and she had echoed his words back to him after they all arrived to save her and the kids. Looking at them all now, she realized how true it was. It might have taken him a long time, but maybe Santa had come through for her after all.
As Luke boarded the Millennium Falcon, Parker's eyes were flickering and she felt Eliot drape a blanket over her. By the time he was heading to rescue Leia, she had lost her battle against sleep and her head dropped onto Hardison's shoulder. And for tonight, surrounded by her family, the nightmares were kept at bay.