Chapter Text
DECEMBER 5th, 2019
A sudden downpour caught Nashville by surprise, the forecasted sunny weather met an abrupt end when a crack of thunder shook the structure of the main roads just after eight am. With the holidays approaching, little families found themselves stuck inside, decorating cookies and busying the kids with themed crafts as they waited for the worst of the storm to pass.
A whimsical themed apartment just off the outskirts of the city faced the most action from the storm, and the windowpanes suffered each blow from the strong gusts of wind that slammed against the glass. Tree branches rustled outside, filling the typically quiet space with gentle chaos. The pattering of rain against any surface it could touch was a grounding melody for the pacing twenty-nine year-old woman. Pink painted fingertips pulled at neatly straightened blonde hair, blue eyes darting across the room for any single thing out of place.
The kitchen was pristinely made up. Multiple sets of dinning china were stacked on display mantles, while the multiple appliances had been scrubbed clean. She had cleaned and re-cleaned anything out of place, having gone to length so great she emptied out the fridge that was hardly stocked to begin with.
Nashville had been home for so many years. The apartment she bought nearly ten years ago held so many memories, but she never remembered feeling so helpless inside of its four walls. Breathing in deeply through her nose and pinching her frantic eyes closed, the woman forced herself to listen to the sounds of the storm.
Another crack of thunder rattled the apartment, though a soft sensation spreading up her legs as she stood in nothing but black shorts and a white hoodie distracted her from her original plan. Looking down at the white fluff-ball, she got down on her knees, picking the kitten up.
"It's okay, Dibbles." She whispered her reassurances to the cat, who meow'd in response. Anxiously, she waited for the doorbell to ring. She'd been called almost two hours ago, and still there was no update on the company she waited.
An upstairs bedroom had seen the worst of her anxious nesting. Fresh lavender colored bedsheets had been unfolded across the matters, topped with a same color frilly comforter and a gentle white blanket that felt as soft as clouds. The desk lamp had been changed out for something less intimidating and more child-friendly, while a stuffed animal sat on a white oak desk, awaiting its new best friend.
Two hours ago, the woman had gotten a call. Not a call she'd been expecting, but rather a call she almost ignored. The split second decision in a half-asleep state had almost changed the trajectory her day, but thankfully, by some odd miracle, she'd accidentally hit the wrong button in her barely conscious state. She was so glad that she did.
Her mother had been the second call that morning. But now, it was almost eight thirty, and the doorbell still hadn't wrung. For a brief moment, the woman wondered if it was broken, if the wires had become corroded or the button had gotten jammed, but halfway to the foyer to check the state of the system, the painfully annoying chime sounded through the entire apartment. Breathing out a deep sigh of relief, the woman doubled her steps, only taking a single moment to decide her next action.
"Hi." She breathed out, feeling like she could finally relax at the sight of her company. "Please, come in." She opens the door wider, not so discreetly wiping her sweaty palms down her shorts. Smiling warmly, she nods toward the kitchen. "Is there anything I can get you both? Maybe a water? Breakfast? It's still early, I was going to make myself some eggs if you haven't eaten yet."
"I'd appreciate some water, thank you. Wren, would you like anything? You hardly touched your bagel this morning." The kind voice of another woman filled the apartment, drowning out the sound of pelting rain. If the blonde hostess couldn't see the state of her companies appearance — wet faces, wet splotched clothing, frizzy hair — she wouldn't have been aware of the current rain, but it was a blinding reminder that the world was still spinning outside of her Wonderland apartment.
The child stayed silent, looking down at her hands as she sat beside the kind woman. Her stomach was in knots, head pounding in her skull. She could feel each and every luh-buh of her heart in her fingertips.
"Just a water then Taylor, thank you." The woman sighed, looking at Taylor fondly. "I do apologize for such an early ring. We needed an emergency placement for this one." A finger was jutted at the young girl who couldn't have been older then ten years old. Her eyes were bloodshot, hair neglected, but at the mention of her presence, she shrunk even farther into herself.
"It's no problem, the storm would've woken me up anyway. I'm just glad you called. Really, really glad. I had almost given up on finding a placement." Taylor laughed nervously, sitting down across from her company with a rigid back and trembling fingers.
"I suppose that's for the better. It means we have less kids coming in and out of homes, as disappointing as it is for empty nesters." The woman opposite Taylor laughs, and the blonde can understand her humor. Less kids in homes was a good thing, but it still hurt.
"Right, of course. But genuinely, Emily. I am really thankful for this opportunity. With work dying down for a few months, it couldn't have been a more opportunistic time." The clinking of glass being set on the table is the only sound that follows Taylor's admission, as the other woman, Emily, sorts through a manila folder.
"Taylor, this is Wren. Wren, this is Taylor. You're going to be staying with her for a while, how does that sound?" Emily asks softly, scanning the folder before moving her focus to Wren, who still hasn't said a word. "You can speak, honey."
"Good." Her voice was probably the softest voice Taylor had ever heard, and her heart sank at how broken and tired she sounded. She knew the ins and outs of this position, but it didn't hurt her any less to see the direct result of childhood abuse.
"I'm glad. Taylor, is there someplace Wren can hang out while I brief you?" Emily asks, attempting to spare the child the pain of having to relive the events of the last four hours. Four hours that would leave irreparable mental damage.
"Yes, of course. I can set you up in the living room with a movie, how does that sound?" Taylor's quick to jump to her feet, rushing both Emily and Wren out of the kitchen and towards the living room, where a collection of cat pillows and fluffy blankets awaited them. Getting the hint that Wren wasn't up for much conversation, Taylor selected Disney+ without asking, scrolling through the animated movie list before she found 'Alice and Wonderland'. Maybe it was a bit on the nose, but it had always been a safe option. "You can change it to anything you want, but I figured choosing something you like in front of me might be a little intimidating right now. It's low enough so we can't hear it in the kitchen, I won't know if you change it, it can be your secret. Whatever you'd like."
With one last glance at the stiff little girl, Taylor led Emily back into the kitchen, prepared to hear the worst. "Don't spare any details. I can handle it."
"Wren was placed in a home three years ago, after her birth parents were struck by a drunk driver. Father walked away with minor injuries, Mother died on impact. Today, I got the call from the local prescient that they had responded to a call about screaming and crying in the upper apartment, and when they arrived, had found Wren bound to a bed while her placement parents fought over a butchers knife. Foster-Father stabbed the Mother in the arm, both'll live, but Wren could see the entire exchange from her open bedroom door." Emily frowned, flipping through the file in front of her, ignoring the stinging in her eyes as she read over the worst of it. Taylor was shocked to silence, looking between Emily and the open kitchen doorway in rapid successions.
"I-I know you can't tell me anything more, but... but, is something being done? Are they being arrested?" Her voice shakes, and Emily is quick to assure her.
"I wouldn't typically disclose this information, but, Wren was only just transferred to my sheet. I think being on the same page would help us both in getting to know her and making sure she has the best care possible." Emily takes a single page out of the file, slipping it to Taylor with a tight expression. "That covers the extent of her medical history. Every reported bump and bruise is listed on that sheet. But, yes, the Tighlmans are being arraigned as we speak. They won't be seeing sunlight anytime soon. Wren is extremely malnourished, the medical examiner noted that she has multiple old fractures in her ribs and wrists, old scarring on her soft tissue. You should be aware of the bruising. She's already skittish of physical contact, but should you get close, there's serve bruising on her wrists and side from fighting the restraints, and we assume she was beaten with a belt. The marks on her back are consistent, and incredibly sore."
Taylor looked up from the sheet of paper, a single tear slipping past her waterline as she read further. "She's only eight?"
Solemnly, Emily nods. "I've seen a lot of rough cases since I started this career. Her's is... particularly heartbreaking. Bio-Dad relinquished all parental rights after the death of his wife was too much. No remaining family. That little girl is completely on her own, and the only people she had to count on tortured her."
"It says her name is Wrenley." Taylor mentions, interest peaked at such an interesting name. It wasn't one she'd heard before, but from the little she saw of the traumatized girl at her table, she knew that it fit.
"Do not, under any circumstances, call her Wrenley. Her previous caseworker didn't give me the full backstory, but I know she was present during the crash. I think it has a connection to her birth mother." Emily frowns, reaching for the medical sheet. Taylor hands it over, trying to keep it memorized for a later date. "I'm going to leave you with her legal documents, as well as an index card of her allergies. Not many, just walnuts. There's an epipen in her backpack. I trust you remember the safety training course and how to administer it?"
"Yes, yes. I know how to administer it." In the background, the storm continued to pelt the windows, a blinding flash of lightning brightening the entire apartment for a second.
"Good. Unless you have any other questions, I'll leave you with her basic information. You have my card, any problems and I'm on my way." Emily smiles, beginning to collect her things. "Last thing I need before I'm out of your hair is a home inspection."
"Can I just ask, how long do you think this placement will be?" Nervously, Taylor chewed on her bottom lip, pushing aside the rising hope she felt.
"Indefinitely. Of course, I'll take yours and Wrens feelings into consideration, monitor how the both of you settle and adjust, but if everything is good, then I see no reason I should uproot her all over again. They had a child psychologist speak to her before we left the hospital. Right now, the only thing he's suggesting is consistency and patience. If there's any hope at helping Wren overcome this, I can't have her bouncing between fosters. Your work travel is fine, everyone is aware of your occupation. If work was going to be a problem, you wouldn't have been approved for your license. However, I ask that you give me at least two weeks notice of any international travel, and a weeks notice for any state travel that exceeds twenty-four hours."
"Perfect. I'm planning on remaining in Nashville until after Christmas, and was planning on spending New Years in London. But, I'd like to get Wren settled before I do that, so I'll be sure to have my publicist contact you closer to the date if things change. I do have to ask though, how does Wren take male presence? My partner doesn't have his license, but he's as much interested in being apart of her life as well. I want to make sure we've built some trust and have her settled before I do anything involving him or my parents and brother." Taylor takes a sip of her own water, feeling how impossibly dry her throat is becoming.
"The psychologist doesn't think she's prone to any sort of reactions. I would just ease her into things, she's a bit of a wild card for me at the moment. Her last caseworker was transferred to Louisville last week, so I was kinda thrown in with the sharks on this one." Emily laughs softly, standing up from the table, and prompting Taylor to follow her. "I need to see where she'll be sleeping, as well as your fridge."
Taylor leads the way to the silver appliance, pulling open the double doors to reveal a carton of eggs, a gallon of milk, and assortment of other groceries like a pint of chocolate ice cream and a head of lettuce. "I wasn't expecting your call, obviously I would've been more prepared. I can have a grocery order at my door within the hour. But, let me show you to her bedroom. Again, with how last minute this has been, there aren't many personal touches yet. Do you happen to know any of her interests?"
"Sorry, but I'm as in the dark as you. I would suggest Monsters Inc. I noticed she shoved a Sulley t-shirt into her bag as she was packing." Emily offers, and Taylor nods, filing it away for a later date.
Stepping into the living room, Taylor knocks on the wall as to not startle Wren by getting close. "Hey Wren, I'm going to show Emily where you'll be sleeping, would you like to check it out with us?" Taylor asks softly, understanding if the girl preferred her time alone for the minute. However, she's surprised when Wren nods slowly, like she's afraid of stepping wrong. "Perfect, it's just up those stairs. Would you feel more comfortable going ahead of us, or behind us?" At her silence, Taylor smiles kindly. "You don't need permission to speak up, buddy. You're free to say whatever you want. That might take some time, but I'll remind you, okay? I would like to know what you're comfortable with though, I want you to feel safe."
Staring, almost baffled, Wren slowly mumbled her answer, avoiding Taylor's eye as she whispered, "Behind."
"Okay, follow me." Taylor leads the way up the stairs, walking slow enough to make sure Wren can keep up. When she reaches the top of the stairs, Meredith is waiting for them. She meows greedily, pawing at Taylor's ankle. "This is Meredith. She's a bit dramatic." Taylor says, bending down to pet the cat, a faint smile on her lips. She looks toward Wren, unable to help the way she stares, but the little girl looks too mesmerized by the fluffball to notice. "Do you wanna pet her, Wren? She's sweet, just wants all of your attention. I can back up if you wanna pet her, so we're not so close."
Wren quickly shook her head, and not wanting to press, Taylor accepted her answer, standing up again. "Alright, I'm sure she'll be around later. The bedroom is this door right here. I wasn't sure what you'd like, so it's pretty bare for now. We'll get you some clothes and decorations when you feel up to it." Taylor smiles, walking into the room, letting Emily and Wren follow her into the space. Wrens eyes immediately land on the teddybear, but she stays at a distance, shifting nervously between her feet. "I got that for you, honey. It's yours."
"M-Mine?" Wrens eyes snap to Taylor, her mouth hanging open in shock, her eyes daring Taylor to say it's a joke and take it away. Her expression made Taylor wonder when the last time, if she ever, had a teddy bear, but the millennial quickly stopped that train of thought, deciding Wren's story was sad enough without her added meddling.
"Of course. I won't touch her unless you say I can, she's yours." Taylor grins, already hooked on hearing Wren's sweet voice. "I had my mom drop it off along with some clothes before you got here. I wasn't sure about what you liked or your size, so I had her grab a couple different designs and sizes of everything. Whatever you don't like we can return, it's not a big deal to me buddy."
"Alright, I've seen everything I need to. Thank you for your time, Taylor." Emily smiles politely, then shifting her attention to Wren. "I'll be back in a week to check on you, okay? You can trust Taylor, let her help."
"I can show you out. Thank you again for this, Emily, we'll be in touch." Taylor opened the front door, locking it behind the caseworker and turning her attention to Wren, who was waiting at the top of the stairs. She looks petrified as ever. "I know that you don't know me yet, buddy, but I promise you have nothing to worry about. Would you like to unpack your stuff?"
Wren nodded silently, making her way down the stairs to grab the bulging backpack. Taylor offered a kind smile, removing both glasses of water from the kitchen table and walking them over to the sink. "I'm sure you want some time alone, I'm going to wash these and then I'll be up to see if you need any help. Does that sound alright?"
Wren nods silently, and Taylor offers her the biggest smile she can muster without intimidating her. She hears the pattering up feet up the stairs when she turns back toward the sink, and breathes out a heavy sigh of relief. Introductions are the hard part, but getting to know Wren should be easy once they find a groove. Taylor was willing to take her time with Wren, but she already loved her. How could she not? Sweet green eyes, a freckled nose, silky light brown hair that looked almost blonde under the kitchen lighting. She was cute, and shy, and desperately craving love.
After Taylor finished washing the two glasses, she set them up to dry, wiping her hands clean of the soap suds and water as she picked up her phone to call Andrea back.
"Taylor! How'd it go, honey? She settling in alright?" Her mothers worried voice slips through the phone line, sounding weak from her rounds of chemo earlier in the weak.
"Her caseworker just left. Mom, it's so bad. So so bad. She looks like she's scared of her own shadow." Taylor drops her head into her heads, collecting a shaky breath before she could force herself to continue. "I have her upstairs unpacking, she liked the teddy bear. I don't think... Mom, I don't think she's ever had one. Not from the way she was looking at it."
Andrea gasped, her own heart following with sadness for the girl. "What's her name, honey?"
"Wren. She's eight. I have to look over the paper Emily gave me for her birthday. She didn't mention it being soon." Taylor stalked over to the kitchen table, barely stepping over Olivia who darted out between her feet. "Jesus, Dibbles." She cursed, pressing the phone between her cheek and her shoulder, looking through the papers before an audible gasp tumbles from her lips. "Mom! Shes December thirteenth!"
Andrea gushed at the news, clearly picturing the shock and delight on her daughters face. "You'll have to do something sweet then. I don't wanna keep you too long, honey. Go check on her."
"Alright. Bye Mom, I love you." Taylor chorused, smiling when Andrea wished her the same back. She hung up the phone, throwing it in her hoodie pocket before she took the stairs two at a time. The bedroom door was still open, and she had the perfect view of Wren sat in the middle of the floor, looking through an assortment of clothes, holding an all too familiar yellow CD in her hands. Knocking on the doorframe, as to not startle Wren with her unexpected presence, she smiled kindly. "What do you have there, buddy?"
"It's you?" In all honesty, Taylor hadn't expected Wren to say anything, but her smile doubled at not only the sweet little girls voice, but the questioning tone she held while looking down at Fearless.
"It is me. I sing those songs." Taylor explained simply, smiling when Wren nods, moving on like nothing had happened, definitely not the reaction Taylor expected. Taylor looks at the assortment of clothes on the floor, most are plain necessities. A lot of black and white and greys. She frowned. "I see you have a lot of t-shirts, buddy. It's kinda chilly outside, do you want to order some more options? It's okay if you wanna wait."
"More?" Wren frowned, looking between her t-shirts and leggings and then back to Taylor.
"Yeah. Do you wanna come see my closet? Maybe you'll like something in there. We can get you some long sleeve shirts, some jeans, some shorts. I heard you might like Monsters Inc, I'm sure we can find a pajama set."
"I like Sulley." Wren pointed to a shirt hidden at the bottom of the pile, the bright blue and purple character staring back at Taylor with his typical animated wave. The shirt was old, a hole in the bottom, and Sulley looked like he had seen better days too. "And Boo."
"We can definitely get you some Monsters Inc pajamas then. Do you like Boo's door?" Taylor asked, adjusting her position to sit criss-crossed on the hardwood floor, still keeping her distance. Wren nods silently, and Taylor beams. "What do you say we get some paint and make your door look like hers. Would that be pretty cool?"
"We can?" Wren asks skeptically, bottom lip bitten between her teeth. Taylor just continues to smile, nodding her head.
"Of course, buddy! This is your room, you can do whatever you want to it." Taylor grinned, nodding toward the pile of clothes on the floor once the previous topics been settled. "Do you need help? I can hang those up for you while you sort through your other things. I might have a CD player somewhere in the storage closet, if you want to listen to Fearless."
"I can?" Wren perked up, beaming up at Taylor with the greenest eyes she'd ever seen. With a pure forest colour around her deep midnight purple, hardly any alternative colour was present around her iris.
"Of course. I can play it on my phone, or I can play it through the CD player. Whatever you want." Taylor smiles, and hesitantly, Wren points to Taylor. "You want me to play it? Alright. Any specific song?"
Despite looking like she wanted to answer, Wren shock her head. Taylor didn't pry, just shuffled the album and got to work at putting her clothes away. She watched Wren shuffle through her backpack, pulling out a couple of loose knick knacks. One looked to be a miniature Statue of Liberty, while the other was slightly larger, with a round glass bulb and soft blue base. Inside, a statue of a tiny fairy with butterflies in her hair were showered in glitter, the motion of Wren pulling it out of the bag, shaking the water and glitter around.
"That's a pretty snow globe, Wren." Taylor complimented, moving to sit down on the edge of the girls bed. Her foster-daughters bed. She would never get used to that. It would never feel real.
"Thank you." She whispered, moving to place it beside the teddy bear on the desk, brushing her fingers along the soft beige belly of the bear. Taylor watched her for a moment, smiling happily as 'The Best Day' began to play in the background. Wren's entire demeanor changed, and Taylor swore the faintest smile appeared on her lips.
"Did you know I wrote this song for my Mom?" Taylor asked, catching Wren's attention again. The little girl shook her head, so Taylor continued. "Yeah, she was my best friend when I was little. She's still my best friend. She's the one who got you that bear. I called her while I was doing the dishes, she said she's glad you like it."
Wren plays with her fingers, looking back and forth between Taylor and her trembling extremities. "W-Will you tell her I say thank you?"
"Of course. She'll love to hear that. Alright, we've unpacked all that you have. Do you want a tour of the house? I think you'll like the theater."