Chapter Text
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TW for ableism/anti-autistic speech from school kids and parents, and references to child abuse/neglect/not a fun time
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The day after Amedeus Ravenclaw "don't call me that ridiculous name or I'll kick your arse" Hunter graduated from secondary school, he moved into an apartment near to his second choice university. His first choice had accepted him, but would be a ridiculously long (and expensive) trip on the underground to visit his little sister. As a post-graduate working towards becoming a physical therapist, he got a job as an intern at a top-ranked physical therapy unit in an American hospital, and transferred to study there. Very quickly, Hunter began a rivalry with a determined (i.e. stubborn) girl studying forensic science and criminal behavior - Barbara 'Bobbi' Morse - over the best study room on campus. Their feud eventually sparked a friendship, and they were later teased that their relationship was the perfect example of enemies to lovers.
Hunter opened a cab door, greeting the driver and handing him a written address. He gestured his fiancée into the cab and climbed in after her.
After a few awkward moments of silence filled only by the sound of Hunter's foot anxiously tapping.
Bobbi took his hand, "Everything alright?"
"I'm still more than happy to deliver the invitation to Jem myself, than take you sightseeing. You don't need to meet my parents."
"But I want to. At least meet your sister, she sounds like a sweetheart." Bobbi squeezed his hand a little tighter, "Babe, you're shaking."
"You know, I can get Jemma to come out with us, and you can just wait in the car? You've heard the stories."
"Screw your parents, I'm not going to make you face them alone. If they aren’t answering your calls, you might need back up to be able to see your sister, alright?”
Hunter smiled a bit, "Alright."
Bobbi knocked for the fourth time on the front door of the small townhouse. "Maybe they're not home?"
Hunter stepped back down the front sidewalk a bit and studied the house where he grew up. "Jemma doesn't leave her light on in her bedroom."
Bobbi furrowed her brows in confusion.
"It's the light pollution, she loves the stars. Not that you can see them during the day, lights on or off." he answered, rummaging around in a garden box across the front window.
"Okay. And you're rooting around now, why?"
Hunter stood, triumphantly holding a dirty metal key, "For this! I thought they might still keep a key here."
"Are we going to break into your parents house?"
He glanced up, "Do you have a problem with that? You can go back to the cab if you don't want to be an accomplice."
"Technically, we have a key so it's not breaking in, I guess." Bobbi shrugged, "And I'm a cop, so it's a welfare check, right?"
"Jemma? Jem it's Hunter." he called, glancing around the still hallway. "I've brought someone to meet you."
Bobbi, who was looking around downstairs called up to her fiancé, "Did you find her?"
"No, not yet."
Bobbi swung her head around when she heard a quiet whimper. She eyed a door in the hallway suspiciously and turned the handle. At the top of the door was a thick deadbolt, which Bobbi quickly undid to fully open the closet.
Curled up under the hanging coats was a small girl with straight brown hair. She pushed herself further into the corner and eyed Bobbi warily.
Bobbi gently pushed some of the jackets aside to better be able to see the girl and crouched in front of her. "Hi sweetheart, are you Jemma?"
“It’s a poor safety practice to give personal information to strangers, even confirming data they already possess.” she said in a soft British accent, “Especially after they’ve broken into your house.”
Hunter - who’d come down after hearing Bobbi begin talking to someone - laughed from behind his fiancée. “And what’s the safety practice if they aren’t a stranger, Jem?”
“Hunter!” Jemma flung herself past Bobbi and into her brother’s arms. She hugged him around the neck, legs dangling as he lifted her up.
After few moments, she pushed herself back, and glared at him when he crouched to stand closer to her height. “I take that hug back.” She declared fiercely, her little eyebrows furrowed in anger. “I’m still cross with you.”
Hunter frowned, “What for, darling?”
“You promised you’d write and almost immediately broke that promise!” Jemma’s eyes filled with tears. “Dad checks the postbox every day, and never had anything from you.”
He reached for his little sister, pulling her back against him. “Jemma, I sent you a letter every week for months. When I continued to get no response, I thought you just weren’t getting them and called Dad and your mom, but no one ever answered. I even sent my mate James over and Dad wouldn’t let him see you. That’s why I had to come visit, I had to check on my M&m.”
The girls lower lip trembled, “but Mum said you weren’t answering her calls, and that you didn’t want to see me anymore.”
Bobbi’s heart broke for the two siblings. She laid a gentle hand on Hunter’s shoulder, “babe, I’m going to step outside for better service and try to find a good place for lunch, okay?”
“Ms. Bobbi, can I ask you a question?” Jemma asked, poking at her pancakes that the waitress had brought to the table.
“Of course.” Bobbi smiled at the girl across the table. Hunter had stepped out to the restroom, and they had been sitting in silence for the past several minutes. She had asked Jemma to just call her Bobbi, but the girl insisted on “using proper manners.”
"What does the word r*t*rd mean?"
Bobbi froze, eyeing the girl and realizing her face was open, one of simple curiosity. "Umm, it's not a very nice word, but it used to be a word that described someone who was developmentally behind, typically intellectually. Who did you hear it from?"
"No one, I mean I read it in a book." Jemma answered too quickly. “Do you think I’m-” she hesitated before the words came spilling out of her, “do you think I’m odd?”
Bobbi paused for a moment before answering carefully, "Well, that depends on what you mean by odd. Did someone call you odd, as a bad thing?"
Jemma eyed her sister-in-law-to-be and focused her attention on the simple ring on Bobbi's left hand, fourth finger. She drummed her fingers on the table and finally said, "Umm, well I heard my teacher talking to the headmistress, and she said 'you'd say that Simmons girl was right clever if she wasn't so bloody daft sometimes,' and the other day she said "you are an odd girl, aren't you.'" It seemed that once Jemma started her confession, she couldn't stop, her words getting faster and faster. "I'm different from the other children in my classes, and they never let me play with them. And my pediatrician told Dad I should have some sort of assessment, and he got really mad at them. Is something wrong with me?"
"I haven't known you for that long, but I don't think anything is wrong with you at all, Jemma."
Bobbi was relieved to see Hunter making his way through the cafe. "Hey, Jemma, would you go ask the waitress if she could bring some ketchup to the table?"
Jemma glanced at her big brother, then back at Bobbi. She gave a big sigh, knowing they were about to discuss her. "Yes'm."