Chapter Text
“This might hurt a little, okay?”
Abby waited for the acknowledgement before pressing down gently on the deep bruising on the girl’s side, carefully watching her reaction. A quickly inhaled breath, and then nothing more, the girl’s expression returning to its stoic default.
“How was that?”
Her patient returned her gaze calmly, her green eyes betraying no emotion. “Not too bad.”
Abby raised her brows. “Are you sure? This bruising isn’t pretty.”
“She said she was fine.”
Abby turned to the other girl, the one who had accompanied her patient -- she was still without a name for either of them -- into the ER twenty minutes ago. She was a bit older, maybe, in her late teens, and unlike the calm exterior of her counterpart, was visibly angry, gritting her teeth, her sharp cheekbones and narrowed eyes only making her look fiercer. She’d been aggressive from the moment she and her - friend? sister? - had made their way inside, demanding to see a doctor and flatly refusing to provide any identification or insurance information in the same breath.
The resulting argument between her and the long-suffering nurse on duty had drawn Abby’s attention. She’d been nearing the end of a mercifully calm shift, the ER quieter than usual; with half the doctors out on vacation, travelling with their kids in the last days of the summer break, and a noticeable dearth of patients, the ruckus in the waiting room had easily caught her ear.
She’d quickly taken in the scene -- the flatly refusing nurse shaking her head, a loud, angry blonde teenager pounding her fist on the counter separating them as she supported a pale, pained looking brunette with her other arm -- before striding in.
“What’s going on here?”
The nurse had turned to her, looking a bit relieved. “The, er, young lady here is, ah, requesting that her friend sees a doctor, but refuses to provide me with any identification or even tell me what happened.”
Abby looked to the ‘young lady’ in question. “We can help your friend, but you need to help us out a little, too.”
Her gaze was fiercely returned. “Look, lady, I don’t who the hell you are, but-”
“I’m Dr. Griffin,” Abby replied easily, her voice calm. “I’m the physician in charge of this shift. Who are you?”
The girl blinked. “You’re a doctor?”
Abby nodded, resisting the urge to point at where “Abigail Griffin, MD” was clearly embroidered on her lab coat.
The girl took a breath, adjusting her arm where it supported the other girl, who had yet to raise her head. Abby’s concern had risen a notch -- how conscious even was she? -- before her attention was recaptured.
“If you’re a doctor, then help her. Isn’t that your job?”
“I would love to, but we need some information before we can-”
But the surprise that had momentarily dulled the girl’s fury had clearly worn off. “I don’t understand why this is such a big deal, why can’t you just-”
“There are procedures, you need to understand-”
But in her intensity, the girl had turned from the counter to fully face Abby, and in the process, jostled her ward; the brunette let out an involuntary hiss and raised her head. Abby felt the words die in her throat. The girl’s right eye, concealed until now, was swollen shut, the area surrounding it discolored and bruised.
She quickly bowed her head once more, but there was no hiding what Abby had seen. Abby stood for a moment, argument forgotten as she thought, before nodding sharply at the first girl, who stood tensely, clearly waiting for the doctor to make up her mind. “Come with me.”
All of which found her in this small examination room, an angry blonde breathing down her neck as she examined her monosyllabic patient under harsh fluorescent lights, her suspicions growing all the while.
“Is there a reason you’re staring at me?”
Abby blinked, her thoughts scattering as the blonde in question stared at her, looking wary. “I-- no. But, I’d prefer if my patient spoke for herself.”
The girl scoffed and looked away. Abby redirected her attention to her patient, who was watching her intently from her place on the exam table. “I’m going to examine the area one more time, okay?”
Another slight nod. Abby probed the bruising again, trying to keep a light touch; her patient remained preternaturally calm for all of it. Finally, she stood back. “How severe is the pain? Are you having any difficulty breathing, or experiencing shortness of breath?”
The girl shook her head, a tad too quickly for Abby’s liking. “It’s fine. I’m fine. I mean, it’s a bit sore, but nothing like that.”
Abby watched her, frowning. “Right. Well, in any case, I don’t think any of your ribs are cracked, just bruised, in which case the best treatment is just rest and pain medication as necessary. As for this-”
She raised a hand to indicate the girl’s black eye, only for the girl to lean sharply away, the movement sudden and a break from her determined serenity. She quickly righted herself, looking, for a brief second, annoyed with herself, but Abby had already filed away the motion. She glanced at the girl’s friend to see her frowning darkly, her jaw tensed, but remaining silent for now.
After an awkward moment, she resumed her line of speech. “The black eye. Painful of course, but not necessarily overly concerning. Are you experiencing any dizziness or headache?”
The girl shook her head. “Good. In that case, we need to get a cold compress on the eye to reduce the swelling, and ibuprofen for the pain. And, of course, rest, for all your injuries.”
The girl’s shoulders rose slightly, but she said nothing. Abby took a step back away from the table, then, and folded her arms. “That’s all I can tell for now. I’d like to keep you under observation for a bit longer. But before that…” She glanced from her patient, who was staring determinedly at the floor with her good eye, to the blonde, who was now, if possible, looking even more tense. “...who wants to tell me what happened?”
“She fell.” “I got in a fight.” The two spoke at once, then just as quickly glared at each other. Abby watched them silently argue, unimpressed.
Her patient finally spoke. “What she means is...I got in a fight, and then, er, fell.” Abby looked over to the blonde for confirmation, just in time to see the girl raise her eyes to the ceiling, as if seeking divine intervention.
“You fought...and then fell?” Abby tried not to let her skepticism color her words too strongly. She wasn’t sure how well she succeeded.
The girl nodded firmly, her expression grim. “That’s right. And you said I would be fine, so thank you for the help, and can I go now?”
“Not so fast,” Abby cut in. She looked between the girls once more -- both avoided her eyes -- before sighing deeply, shoving her hands into the pockets of her lab coat. “Look, girls. I’ve been in the ER for a long time. I’m not exactly new to this. So how about we cut the bullshit and you two tell me what really happened?”
The girl on the exam table straightened, a streak of some emotion flashing in her good eye. “I told you what happened already. I got in a fight.” She didn’t bother adding the part about falling.
Abby nodded slowly. “And perhaps you did. But, like I said, I’ve been in the ER for a long time, seen all sorts of injuries. Including many fistfights. And I’d like to know why you were fighting with a grown man, likely one much bigger than you.”
The effect of her words on the room was instantaneous. Both girls immediately tensed, glancing at each other and then away. Abby watched as the first hint of true fear entered her patient’s eye, and tried to swallow against the bitter taste in her mouth. It was in situations like this that she absolutely despised being right.
“What- what are you talking about? I wasn’t fighting a man, it wasn’t-”
“His fists. They left behind clear imprints, the bruises.” Abby tried hard to keep her tone clinically dry.
“I, I don’t know what you mean-”
Abby took her hands from her pockets and lowered her voice, trying not to spook her or the other girl further. “Look, I’m a doctor. I can help you, both of you. There are things we can do in situations like this.”
“We don’t need help!” The friend rose from where she had sitting, coming to hover defensively by the other girl, who for her part was staring intently at Abby, her expression unreadable. “We’re fine, everything’s fine.”
Abby tried not to react at the blonde’s clear panic. “I understand that you may not want to hear what I’m saying, girls...but if you won’t tell me the truth, then you need to know that in situations like this I’m obligated by law to alert the police.”
That did it. At the mention of law enforcement, both girls went utterly still. Then, the blonde abruptly turned on Abby, beginning to advance on her menacingly, her eyes wild. “Don’t talk about things you have no idea about- don’t- we’re so close, we’re-”
Abby took a step back, feeling her control of the situation begin to slip, the small examination room feeling even smaller.
But before the girl could come any closer, a sharp voice rang out commandingly. “Anya! Stop!” Her patient had forced herself to sit upright, her eye blazing.
The blonde - Anya - froze, before her expression crumpled; she pressed her fists to her eyes in utter despair, hunching forward.
The girl on the table extended a hand. “Come here.”
Abby watched as Anya did as she was told. When Anya reached her, sitting on the edge of the table, she folded into herself, swiping angrily at her eyes until the other girl wrapped an arm around her. Anya went willingly, pressing her face into the injured girl’s shoulder, and though Abby saw her wince at the pressure against her ribs, she said nothing. Abby, distinctly uncomfortable, had the sudden feeling that she was invading a private moment, her exam room or no.
Her patient, after a moment of watching Anya, finally looked up to regard Abby. Abby was struck by the calm acceptance in her eyes, and in that moment realized that though Anya may the older of two, it was this girl that was the duo’s true, enduring strength. “Please, Dr. Griffin. You can’t tell the police. They’ll make us leave the home. They could separate us, and- we’re so close, doctor. We’re so close to being free.”
**
The truth came out, her patient, Lexa, sketching out their story in a removed, almost clinical manner. The two were sisters, Anya the older, and Lexa, the younger. Their parents had died when they were children, and, with no other surviving relatives apparent, they had officially been made wards of the state, getting dutifully subsumed into foster care, assigned a case number and social worker and all the rest that government bureaucracy had to offer. There had been hope, Lexa informed Abby emotionlessly, that the two might get adopted early on, as they were young and acceptably cute, but it quickly became clear that potential adopters found Anya’s temper and mood swings - all of which had grown much worse after their parents’ death - off putting, and any thoughts of Lexa being adopted by herself were quickly put to rest after her first and last meltdown in the social worker’s office.
And so they had stayed in the system, bumping around from one foster home to the next. They quickly grew used to depending on no one but each other, the constant switch from school to school, to foster parent to foster parent, making it clear that the only consistency in their lives would come from the other. Some homes were good, some bad, and some, like the one they were in now, difficult and ugly in an altogether different way.
Abby felt her breath catch at that. “What do you mean?” She suspected she knew very well what the girl meant, but she wanted - needed - to hear it confirmed aloud.
Lexa looked at her, her expression wry, though with hints of truer, darker emotions at the edges. When she didn’t immediately speak, Anya, who had remained silent until now, opted to answer. “What do you think she means? The same old story. Horrible deadbeat couple signs up to foster, when they really just plan to use the kids as free checks from the government to bankroll their booze, or drugs, or both. When it turns out the kids have needs that someway conflict with this, shit can get ugly. No different this time around.”
“So you mean…” Abby gestured weakly at Lexa’s bruises, unable to make herself finish.
Lexa shrugged, a picture of forced nonchalance. “Foster dad is an asshole most of the time, but even more so drunk. Our foster sibling got in his way, or so he thought. I stepped in before he could do anything to the boy.”
Abby fought against her rising nausea, disgust seeping through her. “Why haven’t you told your social worker about this?!”
Lexa scoffed. “And risk us getting separated? It’s happened before.” She looked fiercely at Abby. “I won’t let it happen again.”
Abby slowly lowered herself into the seat Anya had vacated. She hadn’t lied when she’d said she seen ugly things in the ER, but it never became any easier. “And your plan was to just...what, let this keep happening?”
Lexa glared at her. “I realize that it may not seem like it, doctor, but typically both my sister and I are more than capable of taking care of ourselves. And in any case, we’re almost out.” She sighed at Abby’s look of confusion. “I’m sixteen, but Anya will be eighteen in ten months. And then she can become my legal guardian and we can leave .”
Abby looked to Anya. “Where will you go?”
“Anywhere is better than where we’re at. At least we’ll finally be by ourselves,” she replied, shrugging.
Abby sighed, feeling a headache begin to form at her temples. “Look, I can appreciate that, and understand what you’ve told me, but there’s no way I can, in good conscience, let you go back to your foster home.”
Anya sat up straight on the exam table, pulling free from Lexa. “What?! Did you not just hear what she said? We’re almost done! Calling the police will just ruin everything!”
“A lot can happen in ten months,” Abby replied, standing determinedly. “And I’m a little concerned by how you two are treating this. I understand that the foster care system is deeply flawed, and this is unfortunately more common that it should ever have been, but it’s still abuse.”
The girls flinched at the word, and Abby felt sorry for a moment before forcing herself on. “So, no. I can’t just look the other way. People like your so-called foster father should be behind bars, not taking care of children. But I’m not going to call the police. And least, not immediately.”
Lexa looked at her cautiously. “Then what are you going to do?”
Abby pulled her cellphone from her pocket. “I’m going to call your social worker. You’re not staying there another night, and you’re not going to be separated.”
Anya opened her mouth, her eyebrows furrowing, but Lexa silenced her with a hand on her arm. “Then where will we stay?”
Abby paused, before charging ahead with what her subconscious had already seemed to decide. “Me. You’re going to stay with me.”
And Jake said she was never spontaneous.
***
“To what do I owe the pleasure of a beautiful lady calling me this late at night?”
Abby felt her lips curl up despite herself, pressing her phone closer to her ear. “Maybe I just wanted to hear you say that.”
Jake chuckled, the sound warming her as it always did. “Hey, baby. Everything okay? I thought you’d be done with your shift by now.”
Her good humor dissipated as she remembered her reason for calling, and she let out a sigh as she leaned back against the brick wall of the hospital, the sparse cars scattered through the parking lot her only company. “Yeah, about that. I...Jake, something happened, and I, I did something.”
She heard him shift, and imagined him sitting up straight from where he had been no doubt slouched on the den sofa. The faint noises of cheering in the background she’d been able to hear - probably some soccer game - cut off. “What happened?” Concern soaked his words. “Whatever it is, I’m here.”
Abby filled him in as quickly and thoroughly as she could. Lexa and Anya, making their way into the ER. The refusal to identify themselves, the caginess and reticence. The fist-shaped bruises, her refusal to accept their words, and everything that followed.
A long silence followed her words, and she felt herself growing anxious. “Maybe I was too heavy-handed, but I just couldn’t-”
“No, you did right. There’s no way those girls can stay there.”
She let out a long breath she didn’t realize she’d been holding, feeling weak with relief. “I was hoping you’d say that.”
“It’s the only thing to say,” he replied, his voice sure and certain. “God, just thinking about it...”
“I know.”
“So...what now?”
Abby paused. Here went nothing. “Well, Jake, I- I promised them I would make sure they wouldn’t be separated again, that they’d be safe until Anya becomes legal.”
“I see…?”
“So, well, this is where I did something. I sort of told them they could live with us.”
Another pause followed her words, even longer, and this time she couldn’t restrain her nervous babble. “Oh, Jake, maybe I shouldn’t have but you should’ve seen those girls, and it would only be ten months-”
“Abby.”
“-I had to do it, Jake, I couldn’t let them go back there or-”
“Abby.”
This time, she managed to cut herself off. “Yes?”
“If you thought it was best, then of course they can stay with us. Nothing else to do in this situation.”
She smiled, relief coursing through her even more strongly. Her husband remained the best man she knew. “Thank you, Jake.”
“There’s nothing to thank. I should say, though…they’re wards of the state. Their social worker can’t exactly just let them live wherever.”
“About that.”
His tone changed. Sounding wry, he said, “Let me guess. You already got the worker’s number out of those girls, called her up in the middle of the night, scared the hell out of her with your doctor voice and somehow got a rush order in to have us approved.”
She let out an only slightly guilty sounding laugh. “Something...similar to that may have happened, yes. We should know about our approval by afternoon tomorrow.”
“Jesus, woman,” he murmured, sounding impressed, “Remind me never to get on the wrong side of a debate with you.”
“You got it.”
“Well, that’s that taken care of. But, it occurs to me now...how are the girls- what did you say their names are?”
“Anya and Lexa.”
“Right. Do they even want to live with us?”
She winced. “In...a manner of speaking.”
“Are you insane?” Anya stared at her as if the girl was quite certain of the fact; Lexa, sitting next to her on the examination table, didn’t bother adding her voice, her expression saying enough as it was.
Abby felt herself redden. “No, actually. Just trying do the right thing here.”
“The right thing, of course,” Anya snorted. “Because your intentions are obviously so pure.”
“Excuse me-”
“What the hell are you getting out of this?” Anya demanded, getting straight to the point. “Whatever else you may think about us, we’re not some goddamn charity cases-”
“I never said you were,” Abby contested hotly. “But this solution, while perhaps a little unorthodox, could actually work very well. God knows we have the space-”
“We? Who’s we?” If anything, Anya’s voice had only grown more suspicious.
“My husband, Jake, and I. And our daughter, Clarke. She’s fifteen, not so much different from you two. And if you want to know why I’m doing this…” She hesitated before forcing herself to express the thought that was painful to even consider. “It’s because it’s what I hope someone would do for her if they were here in my place.”
An awkward pause followed, the duo staring at her. Finally, Anya broke the silence. “Your daughter.”
“Yes…?”
Anya didn’t say anything, turning instead to exchange a long look with Lexa. After an increasingly stressful minute, she turned back to Abby. “Alright, doc, sure,” she said, sounding skeptical as she shrugged. “We’re willing to stay with you,” she held up a forestalling hand at Abby’s clear relief, “Not that it matters. Our social worker has to clear stuff like this.”
Abby smiled then. “Do you have their number?”
“Yeah, so?”
Abby held out her phone. “Then give it to me, and let me worry about the rest.”
Jake chuckled. “They sound like they’ve got the fire in them, that’s for sure.”
“They do.” She thought back to Anya all but charging her, hands in fists. “They definitely do.”
“We’ll be happy to have them. You did the right thing here, Abs.”
“I wish there didn’t even need to be a situation where I had to do something,” Abby confessed, sighing.
“We can’t change the past. All we can do for them is try to provide some calm. Safety.”
“I know. I want to give that to them. They’re strong, and have been through a lot, but they’re still kids.”
His tone changed then, and she could tell he was thinking. “Look, I’m sure you have some more arrangements to make over there. Will they be coming tonight?”
“No, I want to keep Lexa here overnight for observation, just make sure that eye opens up. Something tells me Anya will insist on staying with her.”
“From what you’ve told me, I wouldn’t be surprised. In that case...let me be the one to tell Clarke about our new houseguests.”
Clarke. Of course. Her daughter was a good person, generous and with a big heart...but this was a big change, and would be an adjustment for all of them - especially for her fifteen year old accustomed to being the sole teenager in the house. Jake had always had a special bond with their girl, and she didn’t doubt that he’d know exactly how to handle this. “Yes, definitely...and Jake?”
“Yeah, baby?”
“Thanks.”
“Hey, it’s Griffins versus the world out there. Of course I’ve got your back.”
She laughed, and still smiling, ended the call. But as Abby looked out on the parking lot, the humid breeze ruffling her hair, she felt her temporary good humor go as quickly as it had come. She’d done the right thing, she believed that and held no regret for her spontaneity, but she also wasn’t naive; this would be a difficult adjustment for all of them, perhaps most of all for Lexa and Anya themselves.
Those girls had survived a system that was infamous for its flaws and blind spots, its cracks through which untold numbers had fallen through. They had survived it, relying on each other, and had almost made it through. But surviving did not equal living, and if their little family could give them some respite and maybe even a glimpse of what life could be, then that was what they would do.
She returned her phone to her pocket and made her way through the automatic doors of the ER, her gait steady and determined. There was work to be done.