Agents of Family

Lance Hunter hated his parents. Absolutely despised them. To him, there was no lower scum on the earth. His dad had always been a nasty drunk and his mom made it clear that Lance was an unfortunate accident. She wasn’t much better than him. She stood idly by as he beat her children, beat her, and instead of trying to help, often just hid herself. Sometimes, she would drown herself in alcohol and pills to cope. There was plenty around the house, if you could even call it that.

Lance hated their dingy little apartment in South London. There were spills on the carpets and the wallpaper was peeling. The couch was worse for the wear, complete with cigarette burns, and the only piece of furniture in the living room besides the cracked tv that hung on the wall.

The kitchen didn’t fare much better. The microwave and toaster were long since busted and the fridge was barely hanging on. There was a hole in the wall behind the small table from a missed punch of his father’s meant for Lance.

Then there were two small bedrooms down a narrow hallway. The room shared by his parents smelled like a brewery and looked far dirtier than one. In the other sat two mattresses on the floor, the broken bed frames pushed into a corner of the room. There was a small closet, about a yard wide, with a pile of clothes neatly folded on the floor in it. The hanging rack had long since been broken in one of his father’s fits of rage.

The pile of clothes belonged to his sister, Jemma.

Jemma Simmons was the light of his life, his pride and joy. She had been the result of one of his mother’s one night stands and had been assigned a random last name at the hospital. Lance took care of her throughout her childhood and what was supposed to be his own. He was fourteen when she was born and not too thrilled to have a little sister, but then he saw her.

She was so tiny and helpless in his mother’s arms. When she got home from the hospital, Lance watched as she lay Jemma down on the couch, left her, grabbed a beer, and left the apartment. He was glad his dad wasn’t home to see her.

He gently picked up the little bundle in his arms, took one look into her hazel eyes, and fell in love. He scraped up some of his own money to buy her formula from the store once his mom made it clear she wasn’t going to. He changed cloth diapers and put her on the floor next to his mattress every night. When she woke up crying, he did his best to calm her down, even though he knew babies were supposed to want their mom to calm them down.

He always just hoped he could get her to stop before his dad heard and could come and try his own way.

Lance was unsuccessful in protecting Jemma from their parents. He had to go to school and couldn’t bring her with him. A few times, he purposely started fights so he could get suspended. It’s not like his parents picked up the calls from the school anyway. He took the extra time, usually a week or two, to take care of Jemma, get her out of the house.

But eventually they told him if he got suspended again, he wouldn’t graduate. Hunter was nineteen, already had to redo a year, and Jemma was just five. She was already so smart and he couldn’t be prouder of her. She talked in full sentences and read and walked and played.

Well, when she could.

When her legs weren’t too sore from their dad beating on her or her arms weren’t too cut up from broken bottles against her too pale skin. She learned to stay quiet around their parents, make herself as little as possible, and stay out of the way. Maybe if they forgot about her, they would leave her alone.

Lance hated it.

He wished he could scoop Jemma up and just take her away. He had a fairly steady job at a local restaurant, who took a chance on him. His boss didn’t care about what happened at school as long as he didn’t cause any problems with customers. The pay was fair and Lance saved every bit of it. Overall, he liked his job. They even gave him leftovers to take home at the end of the day sometimes. On those days, he could sleep at night knowing Jemma had gotten at least one meal.

He managed, somehow, to graduate high school. Jemma sat in the audience for him that day, smiling brightly and clapping wildly when they called his name. It didn’t matter to her that he was twenty and two years older than everyone else in the class. Little six year old Jemma cheered loudly for him as their parents probably drank their lives away at some bar.

Hunter took a picture with Jemma after the ceremony and the school gave him a printed copy. It was the first picture they had together. In fact, it was the closest thing to a family picture they had. Hunter bought a frame for the 4 by 6 picture and put it in his backpack. It became his second favorite thing in the world.

He brought Jemma with him that night to the restaurant to celebrate. His boss, a kind middle aged man who went by Mr. Fury, didn’t mind. She read some of the kitchen cookbooks in the supply room while Lance did his shift. When he was done, he went and found Jemma and brought her to one of the tables.

She slid into the booth and shot him a worried look. “Am I in trouble?”

“No,” he told her with a small smile, taking her little hand in his own. “Never, Jems. You’ve been nothing but wonderful. Mister Fury thought I might want to celebrate after today and he offered us a meal.”

Jemma’s eyes lit up hopefully. “Really?”

He nodded. “Really.”

She made her way to his side of the booth so she could wrap him in a hug. He smiled as she pressed her little face into his shoulder, rubbing her back.

“I’m so proud of you Lance. I know mum and dad didn’t make it easy for you to graduate.”

He wished Jemma didn’t have to know about any of that. “They didn’t,” he agreed, tightening their hug. “But you helped more than you can ever know, sweetheart.”

Mr. Fury served them two bowls of Kraft Mac n cheese, apologizing when he set it down. “A lot of families came here after graduation to eat. We’re out of pretty much everything.”

Hunter knew. He had sat most of them.

But Jemma’s face lit up at the plate. She looked up at Mr. Fury. “This is all for us?”

He chuckled, a rumble sounding deep in his chest. “You bet, little lady. I’ve even got a little something for after.”

He gave them a mysterious wink with his good eye before walking away. His other was covered in an eyepatch, eye ruined in a kitchen accident decades ago.

Jemma babbled excitedly as she ate her pasta. She talked about how excited she was to go to high school and how boring her elementary school work was. He lied and told the school she was eight so they would put her in third grade. She was smart enough for it, after all.

“Stay young while you can, Jem,” he told her with a dramatic sigh. “Research papers aren’t as fascinating as you’re making them out to be.”

Jemma scoffed. “Well, yours might not be, but mine will be published one day.”

He smiled at her. “Oh yeah?”

She pumped her head up and down as she ranted about how she was going to explore the adaptive mutations of cuttlefish when Mr. Fury reappeared.

Jemma let out a little gasp. On the plate was a pair of cupcakes, vanilla with simple white frosting. A badly frosted SLH for South London High had been piped on top.

“I don’t want to hear about the letters,” he grumbled as he gave them the plate. Then, more gently, “congratulations Lance.”

It was the best day Lance had had in a long time, and a big part of that was how little he saw his parents. He got to spend practically the whole thing with Jemma, Mr. Fury added a bonus on his paycheck as a graduation gift, and they got good food.

That night, they had planned on sneaking in after their parents were asleep. He scooped Jemma up and held her on his hip as he cautiously opened the front door. She knew to stay quiet. It wasn’t the first time they had done it.

The light from the tv illuminated the living room. Their dad was passed out on the couch, bottle spilling out on the carpet inches from his hand. That was a good sign for them.

They managed to get to their room without any problems, assuming their mom must have been out. He carefully tucked his backpack in the corner of the closet, holding the picture safely, and blocked the door before they went to sleep.

Lance started taking on more hours after school got out for him. He still walked Jemma to school in the mornings and she walked to the restaurant afterwards. It was working for them, generally. The restaurant staff had gotten used to her and she never caused any problems, so they saw no reason she couldn’t just hang out in the back.

“Hunter,” Mr. Fury said one day when he came in. He always called him by his last name. “We have a new trainee. You’re going to show her the ropes.”

“But I just seat people,” Lance said simply. “I don’t have much experience waiting on tables.”

“Well, believe it or not Lance, outside of me and the cooking staff, you’ve been here the longest of anyone in this restaurant.”

Lance’s eyebrows rose in surprise. “Really?”

Mr. Fury chuckled. “I’m as shocked as you are. Now, her name’s Barbara Morse, goes by Bobbi. She’s starting college in the area, halfway done. Wants to pick up a job to make some money.”

Lance nodded. It made sense. “I’ll do my best sir.”

He looked up from the matridee stand around ten minutes later as a woman walked in. She was young, probably around his age, with dark blonde, curly hair. She was around his height, and he considered himself to be tall. She gave him a little smile as she walked in.

“Hello. Table for one or a seat at the bar?” Lance asked her.

She laughed. “Oh, no. I’m actually starting here today. My name’s Bobbi. Do you know Lance Hunter? He’s supposed to be the one training me.”

“Oh,” he said. Then his face morphed into a smirk. “Well, you’re lookin’ at him.”

They got along from the very start. He showed her how to work the computer system, then the special menu rotations, and their system for waiting on tables. She shadowed him for two before there was a lull in service.

“I think we have some time to meet the others before the dinner rush,” Lance told her. “They’re a nice bunch.”

Bobbi said hi to the kitchen and wait staff before they made their way to Mr. Fury’s office. Lance knocked before entering.

Jemma was sitting on the opposite side of Mr. Fury’s desk, working on something.

“Bob, this is Mr. Fury, the owner,” Lance introduced. “I’m sure you two have talked on the phone.”

He gave her a nod. “And this,” Lance said, face splitting into a grin as he picked up his sister, “is Jemma, my little sister.”

Bobbi smiled at her. “Hi Jemma, I’m Bobbi.”

“Lovely to meet you,” Jemma said. “We were just working on the taxes for this month.”

Bobbi laughed. “How old are you sweetie?”

“Six, but Lance got me into third grade, but I do believe I could be much higher if they’d let me,” Jemma said.

Mr. Fury even laughed at that. “She’s right,” he agreed. “She’s a bright one.”

“I’m gonna be a scientist one day,” Jemma told Bobbi, who smiled at her.

“That’s really cool. You know, I’m actually a biology major at the University of West London. I just transferred from Michigan State in America. I’ll be a junior.”

Jemma’s eyes practically bugged out of her head. “Really? Do you think I could look through some of your textbooks some time?”

Lance pressed a kiss to her head proudly. “I’m sure we could arrange that, right Bob?”

Any time he could keep himself and Jemma out of the house would be good.

“Right,” Bobbi said with a lopsided grin. “I think that would be awesome.”

That was really their last good week together. Mr. Fury even gave Jemma a paycheck for helping him with the taxes and organizing files and recipes. Bobbi was fitting in well, Lance loved having her around, and they had even taken on a flirty relationship. It was fun. Best of all, they had barely seen their parents.

But then, the next Saturday, Lance and Jemma were met with a horrific sight. He was scheduled to start at noon, but it was clear there would be no more work for him, for the restaurant was up in flames. The fire department was there, doing their best to control the damage, but they could both tell there was no coming back from this.

Mr. Fury made his way over to them with a somber look on his face. “They can’t find a cause. They think it was just a random electrical issue because the building’s so old.”

“Was anyone injured?” Jemma asked worriedly.

“No,” Mr. Fury told her. “Everyone was able to get out unharmed, but…” he trailed off. All was lost.

All the recipes, memories, and cash the building had.

The safe space that had existed for Lance and Jemma.

He sighed heavily. “I’m so sorry you two. Just go home. I would offer you severance, but, ah, we’ll see what insurance can do.”

“But Mr. Fury, we can’t be at home,” Lance practically pleaded. He tightened his hold on Jemma’s hand. “Not with our parents. You’ve seen the bruises on her.”

“And you,” he added, then sighed. “I know. I’m so sorry you guys. CPS never responded to my calls. I don’t know what to tell you.”

Lance felt like he was in a haze as they walked off down the street. His head was a million miles away when Jemma spoke. He blinked and looked down at her. “What was that love?”

She moved in front of him and tugged on his hands so he would squat down. “We’re going to be okay, Lance.”

He tried to smile, but he knew it didn’t really come through.

“We are,” Jemma insisted. “Things will get better eventually. We have each other. We’re going to be alright.”

He hesitated before pulling her into a tight hug. “I love you so much, Jems. Really and truly.”

He didn’t know what to say. He really wasn’t sure they were going to be okay.

They went to the park, where they sat under a tree and watched the ducks in the pond. Eventually, Lance’s phone buzzed. Bobbi had heard the news and wanted to meet.

“Jem, is it alright if Bobbi joins us?”

“Of course!”

Bobbi came and sat with them and it was pretty much just silence until the sunset started to come around.

Bobbi got up with a sigh. “Aren’t you guys hungry? Let’s go get dinner.”

Lance and Jemma looked at each other. Jemma answered gently. “Uh, I’m not, actually, although I am a bit tired.”

“Oh.” Bobbi’s eyebrows furrowed. “Are you sure?”

“Yeah,” Hunter answered. “Sorry Bob.”

“Okay,” she said, clearly not buying it. “See you guys later?”

“Yeah,” Hunter said distractedly. “Bye.”

Bobbi went back to her dorm with a pit in her stomach. Something was wrong with the situation. She pulled out her phone and shot Lance a text with her address if he ever wanted to talk.

She certainly didn’t expect frantic knocking on her door at three am. She opened it, rubbing at her bleary eyes, but snapped awake at the sight.

“Can we come in?” Lance said in a broken voice. “She needs help.”

Bobbi wordlessly stepped back as Hunter carried little Jemma into her room. He had a black and swollen eye and a split lip, and if Bobbi didn’t know any better, she would’ve guessed that glass was sticking out of Jemma’s abdomen.

“What happened?” Bobbi asked as she got the first aid kit from her bathroom. “You can put her on my bed.” Bobbi was glad she was in the off campus dorms this semester and living alone.

“It doesn’t matter,” Lance said gruffly. “We just need to get her cleaned up.”

“It doesn’t matter?” Bobbi asked sharply, shooting him a glare. “Hunter, what the hell? It absolutely does.”

Jemma whined a little as Lance pulled up her shirt. He sighed and put a hand on her cheek. “Sorry, sweetheart. I know it hurts.”

Bobbi set her lips in a line as she looked at Jemma’s abdomen. It was indeed glass. “What is this?”

“Beer bottle,” Jemma managed to rasp out.

Bobbi’s eyes widened and her head snapped to Hunter. “Look, I’ve had some training in first aid and nursing care, but you need to start talking,” Bobbi said. Then, as an afterthought, “and turn on my light.”

Bobbi had to keep stopping to wipe away tears as Hunter finally caved and started sobbing as he told her about their family. How their dad was abusive and beat up on them and how their mom wasn’t much better. How the restaurant was all they had and now there was nowhere safe for them to go and that they had no money, no food, and no job.

Bobbi was nearly done picking out the glass with a set of tweezers. “All I have is the money we’ve earned from the restaurant,” Hunter told her. “It’s a good amount, but not nearly enough to support us both. Not for long enough.”

Bobbi sighed and paused to wipe some tears off Jemma’s cheeks. “I’m so sorry, sweetie.” Then she turned to acknowledge Lance. “Both of you. You guys don’t deserve this.”

She finished cleaning Jemma up before the three of them sat down to talk about what they would do, moving forward. Jemma curled against her brother’s chest, arms wrapped around his neck. She was more scared and hurt than she was willing to admit, but being with him always helped. The sun was rising and their conversation plowed on.

“I would offer for you guys to stay here,” Bobbi said, “but no one underage is allowed.”

Jemma sniffled and finally looked up for the first time. “So Lance could stay here?”

There was a short silence that followed. “I mean technically, yeah,” Bobbi said. “He could probably get a job at the school too, but you couldn’t, so it’s out of the question.”

“Why?” Jemma asked.

Lance looked down at her. “Jems, I’m not going to leave you.”

“But it’s not leaving me forever,” she said in a small voice. “Just until Bobbi graduates.”

They all thought about what she was saying as Jemma slid off her brother’s lap. She took a deep breath before speaking again. “Look, it’s not good at home, but I can survive for two years. It’s really not that long if you think about it.”

“But Jemma,” Bobbi said, “you’re not safe there. What if one of them breaks a bone or worse and no one’s there to help you?”

Jemma gave her a sad look. “Lance did it for fourteen years. I can do it for two.”

Hunter thought hard about what to say. He knew that Jemma was stubborn when she had her mind made up. “West London University isn’t exactly walking distance, Jems. We wouldn’t even be able to see each other.”

She sighed. “I know.”

“No one would be there to hug you and feed you,” Bobbi added, concern in her eyes. “We won’t let this happen to you, Jemma. You’re not old enough to be worrying about this kind of thing.”

“But I am,” Jemma told her. She wiped away a tear. “And we don’t really have options. This is the best way.”

After thinking it over, they knew Jemma was right. She couldn’t go to a shelter or foster care without never seeing Lance again. She knew things would be hard, but she could survive. She knew she could.

Lance, Bobbi, and Jemma stood outside their parent’s building, all openly crying. Lance was carrying Jemma and holding her tightly to her chest. “I can’t lose you Jem. You’re everything to me. Promise if it gets too bad you’ll come and find us. We’ll work it out. I love you so much.

Jemma tried to put a brave face on. “I’ll be alright, Lance. I love you too. This isn’t goodbye.”

Bobbi then took her turn hugging Jemma. She wiped away some tears. “Y’know, I was in foster care for awhile,” Bobbi said suddenly. Jemma and Lance both looked at her. They hadn’t known.

“Then this really awesome family took me in when I was 12, the Couslons. They’re my parents now. After I graduate, I’m planning to move back to the states and be close to them again. I can get in touch with my old social worker, see about freeing Jemma from your parents?” She asked. “They’re all just a phone call away.”

“I’d like that,” Jemma said with a teary smile before burying her face in Bobbi’s neck. “Thank you Bobbi. You’re very nice. And pretty.”

Bobbi chuckled wetly. “Of course, Jemma. You’re awesome and like you said, this isn’t goodbye.”

Before Jemma went into the building, Lance went into his bag and handed her a folded piece of paper.

“A copy of our graduation picture,” Lance told her. “I’ll keep the real copy so dad can’t break it and one day we can put it in our apartment.”

Jemma sniffed. “One day.”

Then she squared her shoulders and walked back into hell.