Chapter Text
Florence didn’t think that she’d be spending her Tuesday morning sat in a police station all alone, with sympathetic eyes all over her as she sat on a cold, wooden bench, waiting for someone to declare where she’d be staying as she cried silently.
No one tells you that at fifteen, people still treat you as a child, even if you’ve been able to care for yourself since you turned ten. So here she was, in shock over finding out in her biology lesson that both of her parents had died in a car crash while on their way home from work. It was definitely not how she imagined her Tuesday going. She glanced outside the window, watching the world go by.
How could everything be going normally?
In her mind, there should’ve been people screaming, running, fire burning everything down because in her head, this was a catastrophe. Yet everyone was going about their normal Tuesday things.
It was wrong. All she received were the occasional nervous glances and pitiful looks from some of the officers who passed by. That wasn't enough. Where was the uproar?! Where was the panic, the anger and the devastation? Part of her wishes she was still in her dingy biology classroom, getting frustrated over the reflex arc. Everyone had seen her leave, they all knew something was wrong, it was plastered over their faces.
In Biology earlier that day:
Florence was debating giving up all together, there was no way she was going to be able to understand all of this. Why did it matter anyway? It wasn't like she was going to be a scientist, that's what the kids like Peter Parker and Ned were for. Her abilities stayed away from STEM all together. Though a part of her was envious of the science kids.
There was no great award for painting or sculpting. Hell, Florence was pretty sure the art supplies hadn't been replaced in over a decade. But the science kids got all the glory, them and the sporty people really seemed to run the school social hierarchy and Florence remained at the bottom of the food chain. That was why she was so grateful when Mr Stark took an interest in her designs. No one knew of course because that would only cause problems. The teasing would worsen and no one in their right mind would truly believe that Florence managed to help the Tony Stark with deigns for suits and logos.
While in the depths of her overthinking, one of the women from the office had appeared at the door. That normally meant two things, either someone was going home or someone had to write a statement over some stupid incident at lunch. Neither of which effected her. So imagine Florence's surprise when the receptionist - Mrs Doris - locked eyes with Florence and asked her to bring her stuff.
The whispers and immature 'ooohs' echoed around the room, making kids laugh and snigger as Florence reluctantly grabbed her stuff and ventured outside her classroom.
Then Mrs Doris uttered the words that shattered Florence's world for the foreseeable future.
"I'm so sorry sweetie, your parents were in an accident" she said slowly.
Florence's knees buckled slightly, making her stagger down the hallway and lean against the wall. Then came blow number two.
"They didn't make it honey, I'm so sorry"
The walls caved in slowly, crushing her chest and heart.
No.
They couldn't be gone.
Not just like that.
It was just a random Tuesday.
People don't just die on random Tuesdays.
Present day:
She was taken to the station, pushed into a small corner with a bench and a window behind her. A few people came to comfort her, some asked her if she had anyone who would be able to take her in. But there was no one. Both of her parents were only children and she herself was an only child.
That didn't leave much room for aunts and uncles. Then a caseworker showed up, someone from CPS probably but Florence wasn't really there.
It was as if a haze had covered her, making everything else quieter but her brain louder.
Next thing she knew she was in a car, being taken to yet another building. While stuck in her daze, her phone screen lit up.
Mr stark :)
- Hey kid, thinking of making a new suit (again I know, Pepper might kill me for real this time) and wondered if you had any ideas? -
This would've normally made Florence ecstatic. The Tony Stark asking her opinion on what his new suit should look like? It would've sent her into a frenzy of ideas and colour pallets. However, today, she clicked off her phone and continued staring out the window. The woman in the drivers seat kept talking to her, something about how due to her age, foster families were less likely to take her in so she may be at a group home for a while.
She was beyond caring at this point. If you told past Florence that at fifteen, she'd be on her way to a group home with only a backpack full of stuff, she would of broke down crying and unable to breathe. It was unfathomable. But now all she wanted was for people to stop talking to her. She didn't want any more eyes on her, asking her how she was or mentioning her lack of extended family. All she wanted was to be left alone to stew in her misery.
However, the group home wasn't any better. While in the police station people were sympathetic and caring, in the group home, everyone had lost something. They didn't care if your family had just died, they cared about the new girl. There was no sympathy or kind glances, just stares and daggers being tossed in her direction. So, she kept her head down, following the woman in charge (whose name she didn't bother to remember) and walked to a corner where a bed was set up. She tossed her stuff down and sat on the bed, staring at her hands in her lap.
"Breakfast is at seven, lunch at twelve and dinner at six" the woman in front of her said coldly.
The woman didn't care either.
To her, Florence was probably just another girl in her care. Another mouth to feed, another nuisance in her custody until she aged out or was fostered. Adoption was apparently out of the picture. A fifteen year old orphan?
Not exactly desirable for couples to adopt. Florence nodded, her eyes still stuck to the floor. She wanted nothing more than to disappear, go with her parents and fade away. While the girls around her talked and some even laughed (a foreign concept to Florence now) she took out her sketch book, the first thing she put in her bag when instructed to pack what she could fit in her rucksack and flipped to a clean page.
She began drawing whatever came to mind. Her hands moved with precision and intent as she traced the lines with her pencil.
She drew a car. Not just any car. The car.
She envisioned one of the avengers blasting the other car, stopping her parents from being hit. She immediately thought of Iron man, diving in from the sky, pounding the opposing car and stopping the accident before it could happen. It gained her some odd sense of comfort.
Then footsteps echoed next to her, she could hear them getting louder and louder.
Florence glanced over, seeing a taller black haired girl making her way over.
"Hey new girl" she said quickly, looking Florence up and down.
Florence stayed quiet.
"Keeping quiet are we?" the black haired girl mused. Stepping up on her tiptoes she leaned over, snooping on Florence's drawings. "Ooooh" she smirked. "What do we have here?"
Quickly, the girl snatched the book out of Florence's hands, gripping it tightly, dodging every time she launched her hands around, trying to get it back.
"Give that back!" Florence cried out. The girl flipped through the pages, the smile growing bigger and bigger as she saw more and more of her drawings.
"Big fan of Iron man I see" she teased, ripping out the pages. "The girls are going to love this" she sniggered, about to move away. Desperately, Florence jumped off the bed, grabbing her book back, seeing all the pages of carefully drawn designs ripped and all over the floor. Even drawings that Mr Stark had taken and interest in. It was all ruined. Work she had put her soul into were gone. Pieces that she was considering putting in her portfolio were gone. The black haired girl smirked, laughing as Florence cried, scrambling over the cold wooden floor, desperately trying to salvage anything.
A crowd had formed now, causing Florence to grow angrier. The numbness was gone, the want to fade away was extinguished. This bitch had stolen the only piece of comfort she had left. She lunged forward, screaming at her. The girl jumped back, shock evident on her face. Florence had no intention of hurting her, letting her anger out on her, yes but hurt her no. Florence knew she didn't have a fighting bone in her body. She wished she did right now however.
The girl staggered back, gasping dramatically.
"Miss!" The girl cried out. "She's gone nuts! She's feral, miss, miss!" she whined. Florence stood still, her hands shaking and eyes darting around the room. Some girls equally scared and others pitiful.
The woman from before showed up, anger and distaste fixed on her permanently.
"Rae what on earth-?!" She gasped, looking at who Florence now knew as Rae, on the floor. "You vile child" she hissed.
Immediately, she grabbed Florence's arm, and smacked her across the face. Her cheek burned, her face flushing red. Florence's eyes went wide, the tears disappearing and redness fading. Colour drained from her face. She'd never been hit by an adult. Never. She wanted to throw up.
"I don't care who has died in your family, we do not tolerate such animal behaviour" the woman scolded, glaring down at Florence as if she should be caged and locked away,
So, this was her life now.