The Foster Family Job (Leverage)
The Foster Family Job
When Nate and Sophie go to the center, they aren't expecting the small blonde girl who is maybe --maybe-- seven. Her hair is thin and face a little pale and nothing like what Nate imagined.
"You said she's a problem child?" He asks and turns to look at their case worker while Sophie just watches the little girl play with a very dingy stuffed rabbit.
The man is a greaseball if Nate's ever seen one, and has to read the file before answering Nate like he had never opened it before. "Yes, Alice White," Mr. Dubenich starts, smiling at Nate in a way that screams he doesn't actually care. "Poor girl. Been in the system for years. High flight risk. Almost went to a detention facility before we matched you. She apparently stabbed her last foster father with a fork for no reason."
Looking back to the room Nate couldn't decide if his blood wanted to freeze in his viens for what was done to the girl, or boil at the nonchalance Dubenich said it. Clearly no one had cared to actually look into the situation, if a seven year old girl was being almost locked away and not an adult man. Nate took a calming breath, looking over at Sophie for strength. His wife seemed to know exactly what he was thinking (as she always did) and took his hand in hers, giving it a light squeeze as she turned a charming smile onto the social worker. "Me and Nate would love to meet her before she comes with us," she said smoothly, and without waiting for a reply she opened the door and strolled into the room like she owned he place.
It seemed the instant the door opened Alice was up and across the room, holding the ragged toy animal close to her chest and watching as Sophie calmly took one of the adult sized chairs. Nate shut the door behind him, right in Dubenich's (stupid, gross, fat ugly) face, and chose a chair a little further away from the girl than Sophie. She already looked cornered, wide blue eyes that shined with clever mischief and wit scanning the room. She was smart, nothing like the dull dimwitted child her file portrayed her as, and Nate watched the girl with his own open curiosity. "Hi. I'm Nate, this is my wife, Sophie. We wanted to meet you, see if you wanted to stay with us for a while Alice."
"That's not my name," the girl muttered and clug closer to her stuffed animal, eyes narrowing at Nate.
For his part, Nate just blinked a few times, lost. The file hadn't mentioned a different name but then again, that's what the meeting was for. "We won't call you that then," he promised, glancing to Sophie and seeing her nod in agreement. "What do you want to be called?"
The look of surprise on the girl's face hurt Nate at an almost physical level. Slowly, she lowered her rabbit to just hug it instead of almost hiding behind it. "Parker," she said, and when Nate smiled softly at her trusting them with her name she too smiled, the hint of something almost wild and fae flickering in her eyes. "My name is Parker, and this is Mr. Bunny."
Nate felt his smile widen and for a moment something just clicked right in him. He didn't have words. Thankfully, Sophie did. "Well then, we best get you and Mr. Bunny packed up if you're going to come with us. Do you want to Parker?"
The nod they got was silent, shy, but sure, and Parker became family that day.
[Line break]
The next one they got is a surprise in that Dubenich brings the gangly boy to their doorstep. Parker, who was actually nine and just very small, had been living with them for six months and hadn't run once and apparently that meant Nate and Sophie could take more children. "Emergency placement. It's only temporary," Dubenich explained as he smiled that greasy smile and patted the kid on the shoulder.
In a little under an hour Nate and Sophie are the temporary guardians for eight year old Alec Hardison, orphaned young and bounching homes until he settled in with a June 'Nana' Ellington. From what information Nate could gather, the woman had fostered many children with her late husband, but unfortunately when she became widowed the state moved all the children out of the house. Sophie's dramatic heart bleed for the story, and Nate rolled his eyes fondly as his wife clucked and mother-henned the boy into eating a sandwich.
Thankfully Dubenich didn't stay long, and Nate hoped that not all children were dropped off just like that. The very idea sent shivers down his spine, knowing how some foster houses were worse than any child should ever experience. Looking at Alec and how gaurded he seemed, Nate knew the boy had experienced some of that evil.
"Is he staying here?" Nate blinked and glanced down, noticing Parker standing right next to him and watching Alec with a strange look.
Looking back at his new foster son and wife, Nate nodded. "Yeah, he's gonna stay with us. If you're okay with that," he added, watching Parker closely.
She had grown so much already in six months, so different from the cornered girl he first met, and when she nodded and smiled up at him Nate knew he was never going to let her go. "Yeah. I think I'm okay with that."
She initiated contact --something that made Nate's heart soar-- and he wrapped an arm around her in a hug. "Then he'll stay."
Sophie called them into the kitchen, and Nate smiled at his family that had grown by one.
[Line break]
It's almost nine months later when Nate gets a call. They're having a family game night, which follows that same basic script every week with them all starting a board game together, then Hardison (as he liked to be called, claimed it made him more grown up) would start winning with loopholes in the rules, and Parker would start cheating to catch up without being caught, and Sophie and Nate would step out to let the kids fight it out over more and more complex and crazy rules before Sophie would step back in and decide a winner. It was fun and entertaining every time.
They were at the second to last step, with Sophie starting dinner and Parker arguing a new Monopoly rule (something about renting hotels enough to own them or something equally ridiculous) when the home phone rings. After three rings and an inward debate on if it was worth it, Nate hauled himself up and picked up the line in the hall way.
"Hello, Ford residence," he answered, leaning against the wall and wondering who would be calling.
"Nate, I need your help with something here." The voice of James Sterling made Nate pause, and he turned away from the living room like it would give more privacy.
Normally his friend didn't ask for help with anything, let alone ask Nate. "What happened? Is there a case?" They were both detectives at the city police station, and if Sterling was calling it might cut Nate's night short.
"No no, nothing like that I don't think," the British man muttered, sounding distracted. "I'm calling in a favor if you and Sophie can help. I'll be pulling some strings but, well.."
Running a hand through his hair, Nate wondered what he had gotten himself into. "Anything."
There was a pause on the other line and a sigh, before Sterling finally said, "Your social worker friend is here. Kid is gonna go to juvie and has a rap sheet already. Nathan, this slim ball is pushing for jail. As much as I dislike this kid I dislike Mr. Dubenich more."
Nate closed his eyes and forced himself to calm down. "What'd the kid do?"
"Beat a foster father half to death. Man's in a coma. Nate," Sterling interrupted, and Nate closed his mouth while wondering how his friend knew he was about to protest. "The kid has bruises at least a week old, an arm I'm pretty certain is broken, and there's three younger foster siblings that are refusing to talk in the same condition. His whole rap sheet is like that, fights started defending some other kid, but no one cares besides you and Sophie with your damn bleeding hearts."
And that was the truth of it. Without letting himself second guess himself Nate thanks Sterling (something he will deny forever), tells Sophie were he's going, and a long seven hours later Nate returns to his house in the middle of the night with sixteen year old Eliot Spencer in tow. Sterling was right about the condition the boy was in, and they had to take a detour to the hospital to cast his left arm and wrap several ribs that were cracked and broken. One eye was swollen shut and black down past his cheekbone but still he glared out as if daring Nate to say something.
Heaving a sigh Nate gestured to the sofa and sat down in the armchair, glancing at his watch. 3:47 am. But the conversation needed to be had. "Sit, please." The teen doesn't sit, which isn't really a surprise, but it makes something old and deep inside Nate itch for a drink. He won't though, not with the children now.
"I'm not going to hold your past against you," he started, making sure to meet Eliot's eyes in an open and honest expression. "But I have two other children in the house, and I will not let you hurt either of them understand?"
That got a reaction, though when he saw the anger sparking in those blue eyes Nate almost flinched. Almost. "I ain't never hurt kids," he growled out, a deep southern drawl clear. He hadn't really said anything before, and had his the accent when he did, so Nate figured Eliot took care to hide it. Why the boy felt he needed to, Nate didn't really want to ponder on.
Nate nodded, knowing that Eliot wasn't lying. "Understood. Just wanted to hear it from your own mouth," he explained, allowing a small smile at the surprised look on Eliot's face. "I would never hurt them. Or you, for that matter, but I don't expect you to believe me right now. In time, I'd like for you trust me and Sophie both." Eliot's face was slack, disbelieving, and Nate could see the moment he finally gave in to his body's exhaustion and his shoulders slumped. At that moment Nate was struck by how small Eliot actually was, how he was still a child.
Mind made up and conversation as done as it was going to get for the night --morning, honestly-- Nate stood and nodded down the hall, not wanting to touch the boy and put him further out of his comfort zone. "Come on, your room is down here. You can meet the others whenever you wake up tomorrow."
Eliot watched him for several seconds, then finally nodded and followed. It took only a few more minutes to explain where the bathroom was, the kitchen, and his and Sophie's room just in case. Nate promised to buy clothing the next day like he had done for the others, and was almost out the door when he heard a quiet clearing of a throat behind him.
"I uhm," Eliot started, stopped, and scolwed down at his busted arm like it had offended him. "Thanks, Ford."
Nate smiled despite his own day catching up. "Don't worry Eliot. Goodnight."
"Night," he heard before the door clicked shut, and Nate climbed into bed with his wife that night knowing his family was more complete than it ever was or would be.