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Tripp steps out of the car and onto the tarmac, surveying it swiftly. It's more habit than anything, he knows she wouldn’t ambush him. Not now, not after everything. Even after everything.
It's deserted except for her small figure and the helicopter she must have arrived on. From here all he can see is her tiny form, wrapped in a flowing blue flowered dress. Even from a distance she is beautiful. His heart aches at the sight. He'd thought, he'd thought... but no.
Steeling himself, he begins to walk towards her. He had to get this over with and return to the Bus before anyone noticed he was gone. He was taking a huge risk meeting her like this, he always had been. That had never stopped him before and he was fooling himself if he had thought a second that it would now. She knew that. She'd always known that. Damn woman could play him like a fiddle.
Damn beautiful, smart, perfect woman.
Once Tripp gets closer he can see the weariness in her, the bags under her eyes and the smallest sag in her shoulders. A pang of worry jolts through him at the sight. She is never tired, never anything but put together and elegant. What happened to her? What did he fail to protect her from?
If she'd stayed he'd have been able to, he thinks bitterly. Now is not the time for that. He came here for answers, to know why she left and why she called him now, not to let his emotions control him.
It's then that he notices the bundle in her arms, small and delicate, if the way she cradles it is anything to go by. It looks like whatever it is is wrapped in a blanket, the pale pink of the fabric standing out against the blue of her dress. There is a small bag at her feet.
He stops a few feet from her as she smiles at him, her eyes almost sad. “Hello, Antoine”
Antoine.
Not Agent Tripplet, like when they would meet on a mission. There is no sultry purr in her voice, turning his professional title into something dark and dirty in all the right ways. No quirk of perfect red lips as she teases him.
Antoine, like when they were alone. Like when they'd sneak away from their respective teams, their responsibilities, and just loose themselves in the night. Antoine means gentle caresses and long kisses. It means tangled sheets and patterns traced on his chest. It means tiny giggles and contentment.
Antoine means this is personal.
Damn it, she gave up the right to make things personal!
“Hello, Raina. It's been a long time,” he spits icily, the words flying from his mouth before he can stop them. He told himself he'd keep his cool, that he wouldn't react like that, but dammit he can't help it. She's so beautiful and so sad and she should be with him so he can protect her, make sure that doesn't happen, and it hurts because she's not. He hates her, and he loves her, and he misses her and it hurts.
He still remembers the joy he felt when she told him she was ready to help the team. He still remembers rushing back to the Bus to tell them, he'd done it, he'd told them he could do it and he'd done it. He'd saved her, they'd be okay. It hurts.
He still remembers finding their hotel room empty when he got back, not a trace of her left behind. As if she'd never been there, as if what they'd had had never existed. It hurts.
He still remembers seeing the security footage from down the street, watching her get into that van with John fucking Garrett. He still remembers the way his breathe left him, the way his heart clenched, the way he felt like he was dieing. It fucking hurts and he hates her for it.
But he loves her and, and...
God does it hurt.
Raina simply gives him another sweet, sad smile and steps closer to him. “Yes, it has. Nine months, infact.”
A soft cooing noise leaves the bundle in her arms as she shifts it so that he can actually see it for what it is. His heart stops.
It's a baby.
A girl, if the pink blanket is anything to go by, with dark skin and equally dark curls. She's sleeping peacefully, one tiny hand grasping a fistful of blanket and the other curled into a loosing fist in her mouth. She lets out another soft little coo when Raina shifts her around a bit, adjusting her position to better support her head. Tripp doubts she could be more than a few days old at this point.
Tripp knows what Raina is going to say before she says it, knows the truth of it in his very bones.
“She's yours, Antoine.”
“Ours.” he corrects her, because that sounds bad. That sounds terrible, terrifying, she can't say that, can't do that. It's becoming painfully clear what she called him here for and he doesn't like it.
“No, yours. She can't be mine. My life is no life for a child, Antoine.” she told him, moving one hand to stroke the girl's cheek.
“So come back with me,” he begs before he even realizes the words are leaving his mouth. “We can make a new life. We can be a family. Help me raise our daughter, Raina. She needs you.”
I need you.
It goes unspoken between them that he'd offered her this before. He'd offered this chance for happiness to her and she'd left him standing in a hotel room with nothing but a broken heart and so many questions. He'd offered her a home and in return she'd given him hope and then shattered it. Tripp knew before she spoke that there could be no new life for them.
“You know it can never be. It was a beautiful dream, but that's all it ever was. A dream. I can't be held down by S.H.I.E.L.D. or it's rules, Antoine. There is a future out there, waiting for me to discover it and there is no place there for S.H.I.E.L.D. as it is. I can't live in your world and we both know you can't live in mine. I will always treasure out time together. You showed me happiness the likes of which i'd never seen before.” says Raina.
“Now take her, Antoine. My life is science, evolution. The greater world. I have no time to raise a child. She deserves more than that.” Her eyes bore into his as she speaks, holding his gaze.
“Give her a better life. Take her somewhere she will be cared for. Somewhere she can grow up safe and happy.” a soft smile flits over Raina's face for a second, disappearing just as quickly. “Somewhere she can paint with her fingers and jump on her bed. Give her a life where she can make pillow forts and blow bubbles in her milk.”
Tripp feels like his throat is closing up. This can't be happening. She can't do this. She can't just give him their child and leave! How can she expect him to just take their daughter and watch her walk out of their lives?
“That's it? You're just going to give her to me and walk away? Just like that?” he asks incredulously, not caring if his voice shakes. It is out of anger, damn it. And oh, he is angry. How dare she do this to them? “Did you ever actually care about either of us?”
Raina smiles the same smile she always did when she thought he was being ridiculous, tilting her head softly. “You know it doesn't matter.”
It is true, it doesn't. Their feelings will never change anything. Raina had chosen her life and he'd chosen his.
He is S.H.I.E.L.D. and she is Hydra.
It just can't be. (He refuses to let his mind drift to Skye, sitting back on the bus holding her own baby girl and staring sadly at a picture of Ward's face. He refuses. He'll loose it if he does.)
And yet...
“It matters to me!” he snaps.
Raina merely continues to look at him, her head tilted at the infuriating angle, her lips quirked in that damned smile. So sad, so beautiful, so exasperated with him. As if he was being childish. As if he should simply be okay with her abandoning their daughter with him and walking away as if they'd never had anything more than a one night stand. Like they'd never loved each other.
She had loved him. Tripp knows she did. Now why can't she just say it?
He sighs as he holds out his arms, knowing he'll never get a reply to that question. “What is her name?”
Did she even name her? A small part of him wonders, does she even care that much?
Raina smiles softly as she places the bundle in his arms, adjusting his grip on the girl for him ever so slightly. Her hands linger around her face, tucking some curls behind her ear. She strokes her cheek with the tip of her finger as she speaks, “Ayanna. My beautiful flower.”
Tripp doesn't think he's ever seen her face so gentle.
Ayanna gives another soft coo, her hand wrapping around Raina's finger in her sleep. Tripp feels like he is going to cry.
For a moment Raina's face crumples, looking as devastated as Tripp feels. He knows then that no matter what she says, this hurts her too. He wants to pull her close and hold her, but the tiny child in his arms seems to breakable, like he could squish her with any wrong movement.
Raina seems to understand this because she steps closer, close enough that he can feel her breath on his skin. They both remain silent, staring down at their sleeping daughter, the beautiful creature they created. Somehow Tripp knows that when she opens her eyes they'll be large and brown, childlike and mesmerizing even as she grows. Just like her mother.
They stay that way for several moments, silent and together. Its the only chance they'll ever have to truly be a family and he doesn't want it to end. They should be having this moment somewhere else, maybe in a hospital. He should have walked into a hospital room to find her laying in bed, exhausted but happy, with this beautiful little bundle in her arms. They should be huddled on that bed together, drinking in the sight of their precious daughter. The team should be outside, waiting eagerly to meet her. Ward should be with them, holding his own daughter in his arms.
(He does not imagine Garrett waiting with a slap on the back and a congratulations. He doesn't. But in a perfect world...)
Finally Raina's free hand comes up to cradle his cheek. Unconsciously he lets his head tilt into it. God he had missed her touch. She continues to say nothing, as she smiles sadly at him before leaning up and pressing her lips against his. Immediately he leans into it, kissing back. The kiss is soft and gentle, full of things neither of them can bring themselves to express.
He wants to be passionate, desperate, to hold her close and kiss her for all he's worth, but he knows there is no use. Desperation suggests hope, the chance that they might have this again. There is no hope for them.
When she pulls back she lingers with her hand on his cheek for several moments. “Raina,” he says brokenly, begining to beg her again. If she could just stay they could work it out. It would be hard but surely they could do it!
But no, no there is no hope and he knows it.
Her face slips into a smooth, business like facade as she straightens and removes her hand from his cheek. Gently she extracts her finger from Ayanna's grip and motions to the bag at her feet. “This contains all her belongings.”
Raina steps away from them and Tripp feels his heart drop. This is it. She is leaving them. Permanently. He has to stop her. He has to think of something to do, to say, to make her stay. He needs her. Ayanna needs her.
Nothing comes.
She smiles at him one last time, her eyes still as sad as they've been the entire time and just as beautiful as ever before. “Goodbye, Antoine.”
And then she's walking away. Away from him, from their daughter, from their chance at happiness (What chance? There is no chance.) He wants to call out to her, to beg her to come back, but there are no words. He's tried it all already. Everything he could possibly say to her has been said, whether it was today or in the months he spent trying to save her.
There is nothing left.
He watches as she gets into the helicopter and takes off. He watches as she flies away, out of their lives for good. Never once does she look back. It's only once the copter is no longer in sight that he directs his gaze back down to the sleeping infant in his arms.
The poor thing is still sleeping peacefully, sucking once more on the hand that isn't fisted in the blanket. Slowly he runs one finger over her cheek, marvelling at the softness of her skin. She is so tiny, so soft and delicate. He is suddenly struck with the fear that he is holding her to tightly, that he'll hurt her. Yet the idea of loosening his grip fills him with fear, fear that he'll drop her, loose her, fail to protect her.
Ayanna grabs his finger in her sleep, just like she did her mother's, surprising him with her strength. It makes him smile despite the desolation he feels. She is strong, like her mother, like her grandparents, like every woman in his family. Pride blooms in his chest before it is replaced be grief.
She'll need to be strong. With the life he lives (and he can't leave it, its in his blood, it's who he is. Besides, who can better protect her than the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. and his hand picked team?) she'll need all the strength she can get.
The poor thing has no idea how her world has just been rocked. She has no idea that she'll wake up to find her mother gone from her life. She has no idea.
Tripp stays standing there staring at her for a long time. He is still standing there when the team arrives, still staring down at his daughter when Coulson places a hand on his shoulder and leads him back towards the car.