Chapter Text
It was strange, Jemma reflected, to feel like an outsider on the doorstep of her own home. She raised a hand and rapped on the door, without any real enthusiasm. She felt tense, and achy all over; maybe she was coming down with something—the dull throbbing between her temples certainly wasn’t helping.
Jemma wondered if perhaps visiting her mother was a bad idea; and immediately felt guilty. This was her Mum, she should be happy to see her, especially after all this time away, but…
Judging by the lack of vehicles parked outside, her father was still at work, and her brothers had gone off on their own some time ago. She couldn’t exactly say she was looking forward to facing her mother all by herself. Jemma felt awful for having those thoughts, but she couldn’t push them away.
Jemma hugged herself, rubbing her arms uselessly against the damp, cold air. She fastened another button on her coat, breath fogging in the air in front of her. I want my dummy. She thought.
She’d left it back at the hotel with Skye and Leo and Phil. She couldn’t bring it with her; visiting her Mum was stressful enough without having to struggle with the temptation of having her dummy and not being able to suck it. Honestly, she’d have preferred to stay at the hotel.
Coulson and May both had contacts in town, and with SHIELD gone, they needed all the help they could get. Bobbi and Hunter were probably in a pub somewhere, or maybe they’d gone to dinner at a nice restaurant.
Phil, Skye and Leo were back at the hotel, probably playing cards, or watching cartoons. Leo was probably getting hungry just now—Jemma wondered if he’d bring Skye to the buffet with him, or if they would call for room service.
After what had happened in the temple—and Fitz had risked his life again—Skye was more vulnerable than she’d been in a long time. She’d wanted to go with May, but May had very gently told her it was better if she stayed behind. Skye was doing much better with control, where her new abilities were concerned, but when she was upset, it was very hard for her to maintain that control.
And Jemma…
Jemma was here.
Well, you’re never home. Her mother’s words had been sharp, painful. She’d felt terribly guilty, and when she realized that their hotel was only a short distance from her home, well…the choice had seemed obvious.
She wanted nothing more than to stay back at the hotel with Phil, and Skye, and Leo. They could watch movies, or play games, or cuddle. She could suck her dummy and no one would judge her or make fun of her, or call her ridiculous. Coulson might give her a bottle, and she could wear a pull-up, and they would all be together, and she would feel safe.
But she’d gone to visit her mother. That was the right thing, the grown-up thing, to do.
So why did it feel so bad?
The door creaked, and swung open. The warm gust that drifted out smelled like meat and potatoes, and if Jemma’s stomach hadn’t been twisted and anxious and nauseous, she might’ve been hungry.
“Hello, Jemma. Finally decided to visit, have you? Come on, give us a hug,” Jemma’s Mum didn’t look any different, older perhaps, but otherwise the same. She didn’t sound overly pleased to see Jemma, however, and that only made Jemma’s anxiety worse.
Jemma stepped forward and hugged her mum. It felt wrong. Her mum still smelled like soap and clean laundry, the same as she remembered, but the hug was a cursory thing, given out of obligation rather than love. Not at all like Coulson’s, or Skye’s, or May’s. The realization made her want to cry. But she didn’t.
You’re a big girl, Jemma. You can’t cry now.
“Hi, Mum. How’ve you been?”
“I’m well. Come in, dear, you’ll catch cold standing out there like that.”
Jemma stepped obediently across the threshold. She was out of the cold, but she didn’t feel any better.
“Sorry about the mess. I wasn’t expecting company.”
“It’s fine, mum,” Jemma responded absently. Privately, she thought that felt like a jab, another reference to how little she was around. She wouldn’t be surprised if that was exactly how her mother meant it.
“Would you like some tea?”
Jemma nodded, even though her mum had already disappeared round the corner into the kitchen. “Yes, please.”
She paused as she went along, looking at all the family photos hung up in the hallway. There were a few new ones, and the most recent one of herself had been taken the year she left for uni. She’d changed a lot since then.
“So, how have things been at the hospital? I don’t get much chance to talk to you, so I never know what’s going on in your life.”
Jemma froze as she was about to turn the corner ad enter the kitchen. Hospital? Oh, right. Her heart hammered in her chest and she felt lightheaded and dizzy and scared. She wished Coulson was here. Or May.
“They’ve been alright, I suppose. We’ve been busy.” Jemma responded, taking a seat at the table.
“Have you met any nice boys there?”
Jemma rolled her eyes. “Please, mum, not this again. I’ve been busy. Honestly, a relationship is the furthest thing from my mind at the moment.”
“Calm down, dear, I was only asking. It’s just that your brothers have all settled down and started families by now. Don’t you think it’s time you did the same? There’s nothing wrong with that, is there?”
“No,” Jemma replied flatly. “There isn’t. But I can’t. Not now.”
“Why not? Surely there must be someone—“
“I almost died, mum.” Jemma interrupted. She didn’t care if she was being rude. Of course, now she’d said too much and would have to come up with a suitable story. She couldn’t tell her mum the truth about what had happened to her and Fitz at the bottom of the ocean.
“What?” her mother didn’t sound particularly bothered by the news.
“In the lab. One of the new employees got careless. I was exposed to something, I was sick for a while…I didn’t think I would…” Jemma stopped herself. “Forget it. It’s not important. I’m here now.” She swallowed past the lump in her throat.
“Well, I’m glad you’re safe.” She didn’t move to give Jemma a hug, or offer any other reassurances.
“Have I done something to upset you?” Jemma wondered out loud. “Every time you call me, you’ve always got something to say about how little I’m around. And now that I’m here, you don’t seem all that pleased to have me.”
“No, nothing like that,” her mum still didn’t move away from the stove. “It’s just that you’ve been away for so long that we’ve…well…moved on.”
That hurt. Jemma was angry and heartbroken all at once. “Moved on…” she repeated numbly. “Mother, it isn’t as if I died. I got a job. I wanted to do something useful. I wanted to help people. I know you wanted me to find someone and settle down, but this is my life. Can’t you just be proud of who I am?” Her cheeks were wet, her breath came in sharp gasps. Jemma wiped her eyes with her sleeve.
“So starting a family, raising children of your own, that’s not useful? That’s not helping people?” her mother countered, and Jemma was taken aback by the viciousness of her tone. “You’re my only daughter, Jemma. Is it really so wrong for me to want that for you?”
“I suppose it’s not. But that’s not fair, mum, you know that’s not what I meant.” Jemma replied firmly. “Coming here was a mistake,” she continued, burying the horrible, gnawing loneliness welling up deep down inside her. “I’ll just go. You can move on. You don’t have to worry about me interrupting again. I love you, mum. Take care of yourself.”
Her mother made no move to stop her as she headed for the door.
###
Jemma must’ve looked even worse than she thought, because Skye immediately realized that something was wrong. She’d barely set foot in the door before Skye was in front of her.
“Hey, are you okay?” she asked, taking Jemma by the shoulders.
Jemma was looking at Little Skye, but Big Skye was talking to her, and that made her feel a little better. It wasn’t the same as Coulson, or May, but her gentle solidarity helped.
“I’m…” Jemma didn’t have any words. She wanted to cry, a lot. She wanted someone to hug her and tell her everything was going to be alright. She wanted her dummy and a bottle, maybe a pull-up, or a nappy even. But she couldn’t. She couldn’t do it by herself, and it wasn’t fair on Skye to need that from her. Jemma already needed way too much; she couldn’t take Skye’s little time away from her too.
Jemma sighed and looked longingly at her dummy, her Captain America one, still on the nightstand where she’d left it that morning. Her eyes burned, her head hurt, and she was suddenly aware that she needed to pee very badly.
She wanted Mommy. But she said:
“Fine. I’m fine.”
Skye raised an eyebrow, not fooled in the slightest. “I don’t believe you,” she said, but she didn’t sound cross. Just worried. “I’m here for you Jemma. I know I’m not as good at looking after people as Mommy or Daddy, but you look like you could really use some comfort right now.”
Jemma felt terrible. Her eyes strayed to the white shape of the nappy peeking out from Skye’s sweats. She didn’t want to be a burden, didn’t want Skye to be cross with her for being so needy. But, she couldn’t stop herself. She reached out for a hug.
“Oh, honey,” Skye murmured, pulling Jemma to her. She rubbed Jemma’s back gently.
Jemma burst into tears. She trembled with the force of her sobbing, her stomach heaved and she thought she might throw up. And, as if that wasn’t bad enough, she felt a spurt of dampness in her knickers and her bladder throbbed painfully.
She pulled away from Skye, still crying, and then realized that she couldn’t do it. She couldn’t make herself go into the bathroom. You’re being ridiculous. Jemma told herself. The toilet is right there. But she couldn’t move. Not all by herself, not like this. She felt way too little, and it was just too much.
Skye seemed to have inherited May’s talent for knowing when Jemma had to pee, and Jemma wasn’t sure how she felt about that.
“Do you need to go potty?” Skye asked gently.
Jemma nodded.
“Do you need help?”
No. No, she absolutely did not need help. She was a grown-up, an adult, the idea was ludicrous. “Can I have my dummy, first?” She was being foolish, she knew, she was sure she didn’t have much time left before she had an accident. But going into the bathroom, without Skye, without her dummy…the thought terrified her.
Skye seemed to pick up on Jemma’s desperation, because she snatched Jemma’s dummy off the nightstand and then took Jemma’s hand and hurried her to the bathroom. She undid Jemma’s pants with deft fingers and Jemma sat down on the toilet and relieved herself.
It was only after she’d finished that she remembered the little accident she’d had, and apparently Skye’d seen it too. Jemma felt hot, and embarrassed and very little.
“It’s okay,” Skye said gently, brushing Jemma’s hair away from her face. “Accidents happen. But I think you should wear a pull-up now, just in case.”
Jemma sucked her dummy anxiously. It felt a little strange to let Skye make all the decisions, but she felt way too little to make that choice all by herself. “Okay,”
“I’ll be right back,” Skye said, and scurried out of the room.
Jemma felt incredibly small and afraid without Skye there. It was ridiculous really, but no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t push that feeling away.
Skye came back with a pull-up in her hand, and smiled at Jemma. She knelt down in front of her and slid the pull-up on.
Jemma felt more tears streaming down her cheeks; she didn’t even bother trying to hold them back anymore.
“Do you want to talk about it?” Skye asked.
Jemma shook her head. She knew that Skye meant well, but she could barely handle it herself, and she was already being a burden. She’d taken away Skye’s little time, and she was a complete mess. She wouldn’t burden Skye with her personal problems on top of everything else.
“That’s okay. Why don’t you change clothes, and we’ll watch some cartoons until Mommy and Leo come back. She took him down to the café to get something to eat. They should be back in no time.”
Jemma nodded again, and took hold of Skye’s hand. She felt even littler when Skye led her by the hand back to the bed, mostly because she wasn’t wearing trousers.
Skye helped her dress in a pair of sweats and a light blue t-shirt with a dinosaur on it that said: I’m RAWR-some. It was cute. She curled up against Skye on the bed and stared at the telly.
There was a talking yellow sponge, surrounded by other talking aquatic animals. Jemma thought he was silly.
She was crying again. She was too tired to try to stop herself. She wanted a bottle. But she couldn’t ask Skye for that too, not after she’d already done so much.
“It’s okay,” Skye said again, stroking Jemma’s back.
Jemma sucked her dummy and tried believe her.
###
“It was scary, Mommy.” Skye said quietly. Daddy and Leo had gone down to the arcade, but Jemma was asleep on the other side of the bed. And it was true: she didn’t think she’d ever seen Jemma so upset before. She never did find out what had upset Jemma so terribly, but she knew that Jemma would talk about it when she was ready.
“I’m sure it was, baby. But I’m very proud of you. That was very kind and brave of you to help Jemma like you did.” May said, kissing Skye’s temple as she shifted on her lap.
“I’m not very good at looking after people,” Skye admitted.
Mommy kissed her forehead. “That’s not what Jemma says. And anyway, it takes practice. You did a good job. I bet you’re tired though, sweetie. You’ve had a long day.”
“Uh-huh,” Skye said around her thumb. She felt a warm rush in her diaper, the padding swelled between her legs. But it was okay. She was little.
“I’ll change you in a minute.” Mommy said. “Do you want a bottle, or would you like to nurse?”
Skye really wanted to nurse, but she was also very thirsty, so she said: “Bottle,”
Mommy slid Skye off her lap and onto the bed; Skye wished she was small enough for Mommy to pick her up and carry her.
Skye sucked her thumb and reached under the pillow for her blanket, rubbing its silky edge against her cheek.
Mommy came back with a bottle half full of juice and propped herself up with the pillows. Skye crawled across the bed on her hands and knees, careful not to bump Jemma, and climbed into Mommy’s lap.
Skye knew how to position herself almost instinctively by now. “Can I have a story afterward?” she wondered.
May looked at her, her expression firm and loving. “Finish your bottle and we’ll see. You need a fresh diaper and it’s getting to be past your bedtime already.”
Skye pouted, it always worked on Daddy. “But, Mommy…” she almost whined, but caught herself; she knew Mommy would say no right away if she whined.
“We’ll see,” May’s voice was firm. Skye sucked on the bottle and didn’t argue.
Her eyelids felt like they were made of lead by the time she’d finished, but she was still awake. The cold wipes on her bottom as Mommy changed her diaper jolted her; she felt a little more awake, but she’d begun to drift again by the time Mommy was done.
“Can I have my story now?” Skye slurred around her thumb.
“I don’t know,” Mommy said, stroking Skye’s eyebrows gently with her thumbs. “You look pretty sleepy to me.”
Skye fought to keep her eyes open, but she couldn’t—Mommy’s touch was too relaxing. “’M no’ s’eepy. See?” she pried her eyes open again, just to make a point.
Mommy chuckled. “Okay. One story, baby, and then it’s bedtime.”
“’Kay,” Skye answered, pulling Ada Lovelace closer.
May reached into her small duffel bag, which at this point, was more a diaper bag than anything else; she’d have to get a new one for overnight ops. She took out a large book entitled 365 Bedtime Stories, and cleared her throat.
Skye wondered how long it would take to read them all. Probably forever. 365 was a lot of stories.
“Once upon a time…” Mommy began, and Skye closed her eyes and let Mommy’s words lull her to sleep.