SUBMISSION: a drabble from a fic I will probably never write
(I wanted to send this as a message but my internet is not cooperating. Call it a thank you for all the family fic)
Part of “Coming Home Tonight”, a foster care AU where married Philanda raise 15 year old Grant, 13-yr-old Fitz and Simmons, and 11-yr-old Skye)
Later that evening, they’re all sitting in the living room, surrounded by piles of wrapping paper, boxes, and half-empty boxes of popcorn and chocolates. Jemma is engrossed in her new book, but Skye has wrangled Grant and Fitz into a game of Settlers of Caatan, which she is heartily winning.
Just as she lays down two more roads to steal the longest road card (and thus, the victory), from Fitz, May sets something down on the table.
Three somethings, in fact. Three plain manila envelopes, 8.5x11", each with a different name written on it in May’s deliberate handwriting.
May calls Jemma over and hands her a fourth envelope, labeled the same way as the others: Jemma.
“Open them together,” May says.
Grant has his open first, tearing off the edge in a ragged string, while Jemma runs a fingernail along the edge and Fitz sets his aside for the moment to help Skye with hers.
The packages are all thin, wide objects, brightly colored but lightweight. Photo books, printed off Snapfish or Shutterfly or some such site. Fitz and Jemma plop down on the floor, flipping through the pages. Each one is personalize, full of pictures from the last four months.
Skye doesn’t open hers right away. She stares at the cover photo–Guy Fawkes Day, roasting marshmallows in the backyard.
There’s something inside. There’s a lump in the back, just inside the cover. She flips there and stares, a lump swelling in her throat.
It’s a house key on a personalized keychain.
“A key? Really?” It was hard to tell if Grant was serious or sarcastic as he held it up.
Leo and Jemma had keys too.
When Phil checked on the kids next morning, the boys were asleep (Leo with his head buried in the giant monkey Jemma had given him) and Jemma was curled up under the blankets, but Skye was not in the house.
He looked out the window and saw something by the front door. Ah. Phil went to the closet to put on his jacket and grab Skye’s before heading outside.
Skye stood just outside the front door, fumbling with the handle.
She didn’t say anything, just kicked at the step.
He took her right hand in his. The bandages had come off, but the new skin was still pale white, crackling around the joints and where she had picked at it. "Come back inside. We can make breakfast for everyone,“
Skye reached into her pocket and pulled out the key. “I want to make sure it works.”
Phil tries the door, confirming that it’s locked. "May I?“
He takes the key, sets it in the lock, and motions for her to try it. It takes more than one try, but she finally turns it. She grabs the knob and slowly turns it until it swings open.
“Pancakes or French toast?” Phil asks.
Skye pauses halfway into the house. Her lower lip trembles.
He steps up and hugs her. “It’s okay. It’s gonna be okay.”
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This was a drabble submitted to me and I REALLY urge aslanscompass to post this and maybe write a few more drabbles in this AU because I loved it so much. Even if the universe isn’t explicitly outlined, some little one shots here and there would be amazing. Thank you very much for this. :) xx
