Chapter Text
Dani had always believed in Skye, encouraged her, and told her she would find a family one day. The little girl slumped against the wall. She had failed Dani. She was a bad kid.
‘God help the girl,’ the words spun in her mind. ‘I’ll get hold of St Lucia’s and see if they have any beds.’ Dani didn’t know Skye was crouching right outside the door of Sister Olive’s office. Through the crack she could see the Sister remove her reading glasses and rub her brow in a distressed fashion.
Skye had known what her 8th birthday would mean. She was getting too old now. They were moving her to the big kid’s orphanage. Nobody would want her now. The small, cute kids never stayed more than a couple of months, they were the ones the mommies and daddies wanted. She didn’t feel old though, most of the time. Especially when nuns treated her like a baby, like she didn’t understand things, but Skye understood a lot of things.
She understood that her parent’s had left her here. Her real parents, that is. They hadn’t wanted her, she knew that much. She’d had a lot of foster parents since then. 4 very different families that had promised to be hers. The Sutters, the Arbenchevs, the Hardys, and the Evans. No matter how good she tried to be she always ended up back at St Agnes. ‘Not a good fit.’ ‘Bad kid.’ Skye didn’t like to think about them, especially the Evans. Skye’s chest suddenly felt very tight and hot, tears pricking her eyes, blurring her vision. She didn’t like to think about it, any of it. ‘Deep breathing, Cory. Breathe through it.’ Dr Patel still called her Cory sometimes, she was fed up with correcting him, he apologised every time but she knew he didn’t mean it. ‘Cory Sutter’, that’s how people knew her, and Skye hated it.
She wiped away her tears. She didn’t need any of the other kids teasing her about her red-rimmed eyes, so she plodded up to her room to get away from them all. The screaming and crying was distracting anyway. She wasn’t meant to be in there at this time; on weekend afternoons everyone had to go play on the ground floor where the nuns could keep an eye on them. She’d get told off if they found her but Skye didn’t care, not anymore.
The room was expansive, long, blank walls, with 2 windows at the end. The only furniture was the beds, lined up on either side of the room, with a chest for the girl’s things at the foot of each. The rooms were all shared by 8 girls, on a floor with 5 rooms. 38 girls all under 8 years old, and then there was just Skye and Rosie. Skye was the second eldest in her room. Rosie was older but Skye never really counted her, because Rosie had a mom, she just couldn’t live with her right now. Rosie was always going on about how much her mommy loved her. Skye didn’t like her, she always boasted and took things without asking. It didn’t matter anymore though; they would both be leaving soon.
The little girl shuffled over to her bed and stuck her hand under the frame, tugging her Gameboy free from where it was tucked under one of the beams. Clambering onto her creaking mattress, she pulled up her knees and pressed the on button. None of the other kids had their own Gameboy, because Skye had found it broken under a bookcase in the playroom, and fixed it. She didn’t play with it except in private, one of the other girls might steal it.
Skye curled up and concentrated on the little man in red skidding across her screen and let the tears begin to fall, blurring her sight. How come a mean girl like Rosie got a mommy and Skye didn’t? Maybe Skye really was a too much of a bad kid to deserve one…
(2 weeks later)
May was sat at the edge of their bed, staring off into space, calculating possibilities, her face pinched with nervousness.
Phil emerged from the bathroom, top button undone, and tie in hand. He sensed her discomforted and smiled sadly, “Nothing’s set in stone you know, Mel. We’ll just have to see how today goes.”
Melinda turned to face him, her eyes meeting his, teeth gritted, “I do want this. I just…”
“Don’t like the lack of control?” Phil slung his tie round his neck and sat down beside her, the bed dipping under their combined weight.
May tilted her head at him questioningly, then decided he was right, mostly. Her hands went instinctively to his collar, buttoning it up, and taking either end of his tie, she began to loop the material into place. “I want this, but I’m just thinking, what if she doesn’t?”
Coulson furrowed his brow as he gently took Melinda’s hand where she was finishing fixing his collar. It wasn’t often she voiced her concerns so blatantly like this. “You don’t give yourself enough credit. You’re a wonderful mother. Clint said so, and I know Katie thinks it too.”
Melinda smiled at the thought of Clint telling Phil that, but her face quickly fell, “This is different, Phil. Kate and Clint were teenagers when they came to us. They’re both all grown up now. This little girl, she’s going to need more from me than Clint or Katie ever has.”
Phil sighed, a thin smile appearing on his lips at the thought of his adopted kid’s, “You’re using the phrase ‘all grown up’ very liberally there.”
The dysfunctional and damaged Clint Barton had first entered Phil and Melinda’s life when he was 15 years old. It was unusual for a kid his age to be put into singular foster care but the Coulson’s had insisted they were up to the challenge. Clint’s social worker still wasn’t sure how Phil had managed to get through to the kid, but within a year Clint Barton was psychologically stable, at an average in most of his classes, and on track to finish school. Melinda had found Clint hard to deal with at first; he was unresponsive most of the time and stayed in his room a lot, which might seem funny to anyone who was accustomed to him and his carefree demeanor now. Somehow Phil had broken through Clint's armor and befriended him. Honestly, Melinda still wasn't sure how he had done it.
A couple of years later and Clint, having chosen that college was not for him, was now working in DC, and had a girlfriend at ballet school in the city, Natasha Romanoff, someone Phil and Melinda had taken in for a time and considered to be as much a daughter of their's as Kate. For the first time in his life Clint was truly stable and happy.
Kate Bishop was a choice Phil and Melinda had made two years after Clint had joined their family. A local foster agency had contacted them early one morning asking if there was a chance they could take a teenage girl who’d been transferred from Boston. It was originally planned so that Kate would only spend around a month in their care, but something about her had struck a chord with the small family. It had been obvious when the phone call came in that Clint was apprehensive, but within 3 weeks the pair were squabbling and laughing like they’d been siblings since birth. A couple of weeks later the Coulson’s signed the papers.
For a while after Katie left Phil felt guilty wanting another kid around; Clint was settled and happy, Katie was excelling in her endeavors, shouldn’t that be enough? But it wasn’t. He could see it in Melinda too. The house was to quiet. They wanted another. There were so many kids that needed homes, they were busy people, but they had plenty of room in their life for a child.
Melinda had known almost immediately this little girl was right for them. When Dani Vegas, the head social worker for St Agnes’ orphanage, had handed it to them she hadn’t seemed at all hesitant. Upon hearing what their attitude was toward the fostering Dani had immediately produced the girl’s file without a moment’s thought.
Dani begun, “I should warn you, Mr and Mrs Coulson, the waiting list for younger children is long, specifically with the 1 to 5 year olds, it could up to-”
Phil shook his head and held up his hand to interrupted, “Actually, I suppose you don’t get this often, but...” Phil exchanged a look with his wife, her eyes were filled anxiety but there was encouragement there too, “we’d like to look into fostering an older child.”
Melinda took a breath, “We took our son in when he was already 15, during his time with us he discussed what he called the 8th year cut off he’d become aware of when he was in the system.”
Phil took over, “He said there was a point all the kids were aware of. That when you turned 8 you were much less likely to be adopted.”
Dani sighed, straightening the papers on her desk, “Unfortunately, this is true. When tend to transfer kids to the larger orphanage at 8 years...” There was a pause and Phil and Melinda waited. “Adoptive parents think what they want is a baby. They don’t want to miss all the firsts that come with biological conception, but in reality… older children adoptions have their own set of firsts, which as adoptive parents of older children I’m sure you’re well aware of. The first time they call you mom, or dad. The first time they tell you they love you, or let you hold them. The rewards of taking in an older child are great, but it also has to be accepted that the child is not going to come as a blank slate. Many have problems that will require extra care. This is something many prospective parents find off-putting. We find 7 is the age children really come into their own, so an 8 year old is considered too old.”
“This is why…” Melinda squeezed Phil’s arm, “we think an 8 year old would be perfect.”
Dani’s smile grew, “Hold on one second.” The young woman opened the top door of her desk and pulled out one singular file.
“We actually only have one 8 year old at St Agnes currently, I was prepping her file for transfer when you phoned. She turned 8 only a week ago, I was about to have her sent to our sister orphanage, St Lucia’s, to be with the older girls.”
Phil was the one to reach across and take the file, reading the name scrawled at the top as he brought it into Melinda’s line of sight, “Cory Sutter?”
“An abandonment case,” Dani continued, smiling despite the subject matter, “Left at the orphanage as a newborn in a duffle bag. There was a note but it was written in mandarin and the translation revealed not evidence as to where she came from or why she was abandoned. She was adopted for a time but it fell through. She's a smart kid... precocious. She has some attachment issues, but, honestly, all she really needs to fix that is a stable home.”
Melinda watched as Phil opened the file to reveal a picture of the girl, and her heart felt as though it might drop into her stomach. The eight year old girl had the biggest, brownest, saddest eyes she had ever seen. Her dark hair was loose, glinting with flecks of gold as it hung in front of her young face. ‘She could be ours.’ Melinda thought to herself, before lifting her gaze to meet her husband’s. She could see in his eyes that they were sharing the same thought. He could see it too. He could see Melinda in her eyes and the shape of her lips. She could see Phil in the shape of the girl’s jaw, the curve of her nose. This was meant to be.
Phil nodded to her so deftly Melinda almost missed it, and turned to Dani, “When can we meet Cory?”
“Skye.” Dani corrected him.
“Sorry?” Phil asked.
Dani shook her head, a smile playing on her lips, “She doesn’t like to be called Cory. She likes Skye. Just Skye.”
It was a Family Finder day. The day the nuns rolled out all the kids and invited a bunch of fresh-faced and hopeful parents to sit with them for the afternoon. It happened every 8 Saturdays. Skye didn’t bother to go down when the other girls did, instead she sat for ages on her bed staring at a page in her book but not really trying to read it. Her mind was preoccupied with thoughts of what the big kid’s orphanage would be like. They wouldn’t be missing her downstairs anyway. There was no way any parents would want her over all the cute toddlers.
The knock on the door surprised her a little. She’d expected no one to come looking for her for at least an hour; the nuns were just waiting for her to be carted off any day now, they didn’t really care what she did anymore. Plus, when the nuns came up they never ever knocked.
Dani’s face appeared, poking round the door frame, blue eyes shining and considering the little girl, “Can I come in?”
“Sure thing.” Skye nodded, with her legs crossed over her bed-covers, book in her lap.
“You should be down there with the others.” Dani said softly as she came to sit across from Skye on the sheets.
“Why? There’s no point.” Skye scrunched up her face in a way Dani recognised. She’d seen it on the face of many a little one who was trying to be brave, trying not to cry.
Dani shook her head, “You don’t know that.”
Skye pouted and stared at where her hands where fiddling with the book in her lap.
“Please. For me.” Dani encourage the little girl, holding out her hand. She didn’t want to tell Skye there was a couple waiting down there specifically to see her, it would only make Skye nervous, and hurt her if nothing came of it
“30 minutes?” Skye suggested.
“Thank you.” Dani said, waiting for Skye to take her hand, but she didn’t. Skye hopped down onto the floor and trotted off down the stairs, taking her book with her.
Nobody was really taking any notice of the little girl curled up in the corner of the room squinting with extreme focus at the book in her hands. Nobody, except that is, Melinda May Coulson. She didn’t even look up when her husband sat down next to her and handed her a cup of tea. There was something about this girl that both excited and terrified her... not unlike when she'd seen Phil for the first time.
“You okay?” Phil asked, following her line of sight to what lay at the end. Skye. Her long hair obscured her face a little but Phil knew it was her.
Melinda was not okay. This was big.
“Hey Skye!” Dani’s voice called out across the space and the girl’s head shot up. “Come here there’s some people I want you to meet.”
No. Melinda wasn’t ready for this. Maybe they should go home? Come back another day. When she was more prepared.
She felt Phil’s warm grip on her shoulder and leant into it, steadying herself against him. Her rock, as always.
The girl with dark hair and brown eyes that were even bigger and sadder in person strode toward them. She was filled with a familiar kind of faux confidence that Melinda recognised immediately.
“Hi, I’m Skye.” Skye spoke up first, feet shifting uncertainly the whole time.
Phil, who hadn’t frozen up like Melinda, leaned toward the girl, holding out his hand. “Hey, Skye. I’m Phil Coulson. This is my wife, Melinda.” May nodded, a small smile working its way onto her lips as Skye looked at her.
“Those are good names. I don’t have a last name right now.” Skye said, taking Phil’s hand and shaking it. “But I’m working on it.”
As he held her hand he thought about the last time he’d held a hand that small. He couldn’t remember. It was strange to think this child was being labelled ‘too old’ when to Phil she looked barely more than a baby.
There was a pause and then Skye started to fiddle with her fingers, “Should I go now?” Her voice was timid all of a sudden.
Melinda spoke before anyone else could, “We’d love for you to sit with us a little longer, if you’d like?” Skye’s anxiety was replaced with wonder as soon as May made it clear she wanted to talk to her. It hurt Melinda to think this was probably one of only a few times this little girl hadn’t been pushed aside.
“Why don’t you sit between us and tell us about your book?” Phil suggested, moving across a seat to make space for Skye.
Skye’s eyes were wide, she seemed apprehensive, but the sadness in them was gone. There was a little glimmer of hope now. It was small, but still very much there.
Dani made a quick exit, smiling softly.
Skye’s legs hung off the edge of the seat, a few inches from the floor, her book gripped tight.
“It quite hard.” She begun, opening the book on her lap. “I don’t understand most of the words, or a lot of the symbols, but I’m good with patterns, these ones are just very strange, so I don’t really read it, but I’m trying. One day I’m going to read the whole thing.”
Melinda squinted, she recognised it. Reading the spine, “Fairy Tales and Fantasies.” She laughed, and muttered, “Zhè běn shū shì wǒ-de.” 'This is my book.'
Skye looked up at her, mouth open, and whispered, “You can read it? What does it mean?”
Fairy tales in mandarin? This little girl was trying to teach herself mandarin? If nothing else Skye was certainly ambitious. But it made sense, Melinda supposed, it was one of the only links she had to her past. This was something she could do for her, Melinda had a chance to give this little girl a gift. Some things were meant to be, and this was just one of them.
“This is my book. I have it,” Melinda tapped the open novel lying in Skye’s lap, “My mother used to read it to me when I was small.”
Skye’s eyes were bright. “Your mom.” It wasn’t a question, just a confirmation.
“Yes.” Melinda smiled, and tried not to look sad. She knew with her age and upbringing to Skye mothers must seem like mystical magical people. Clint had been told old to admit he needed a mother when she’d met him, it had taken him years before it finally slipped out. Even then it hadn’t even been to her.
‘Hey, who’s this?’
‘My mom.’
He’d said it so easily, without the slightest hesitation, and suddenly she was someone’s ‘mom’. He never called her Mel again.
Kate had been different again, it had only taken about six months. Mother’s day. Once Kate had written ‘To my awesome Mom’ on paper it hadn’t taken long for her to slip into calling Melinda that all the time, whenever she could, just to say it, safe in the knowledge she had a mother now. Katie pretended to be hard as nails sometimes but really she wore her heart on her sleeve, just like Phil. Melinda recognised this in Skye too.
Skye was different. This girl was at the age where she didn’t just need a mom, she really wanted one. And Melinda wanted it to be her. Her mind was racing now. Clint and Katie would love a little sister to spoil. Phil and Melinda could give her so many opportunities. Give her a family.
Skye bit her bottom lip and looked down at the book again.
“Would you like me to read it to you? I can tell you what it means.” May said softly.
Skye cautiously took the book and held it out to her. “Be careful, please.”
“I’ll be very careful, I promise.” Melinda locked her gaze, reassuring her that she was being sincere.
She didn’t have to look up to know Phil was loving this; silently watching Melinda fall in love with this girl.
The end came far too soon and the children were saying their goodbyes. They’d only managed to get through half the story and Skye’s disappointment was obvious, but she said her sad goodbye and struggled to look either Melinda or Phil in the eyes.
“Hey Skye,” Phil called after her as she trailed after the other kids. The girl spun around sharply at the sound of his voice. “See you soon.”
Skye grinned, ducking her head as she left the room. Melinda grabbed Phil’s hand and squeezed.
“Yes?”
“Yes.” She answered, there was no doubt, no hesitation. If she had the adoption papers she would have signed them right then and there.
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