Once again, a million and one thanks to identityneverreallymattered on tumblr for not only the beautiful idea for the fic but also for editing it (and making it even more angsty) and helping me on wording on a lot of the stuff.
Title of the fic comes from the song of the same name by Lifehouse; the lyrics presented in the fic are from Hardest of Hearts by Florence + The Machine.
P.S. Everything follows show canon except Brandon is still living with the Fosters.
There is love in our bodies and it holds us together
But pulls us apart when we're holding each other
We all want something to hold in the night
We don't care if it hurts or we're holding too tight
He sat on the beach, thinking back to the day's events. One minute he was sitting in Timothy's classroom listening to him talk about their new book, and the next he was being called into Lena's office. She didn't sound like his mom, but instead a vice principal and he wasn't sure if that made the conversation worse for him.
He thought he it was bad when she caught him red handed a week ago, but the looks that he got from everyone when he walked out of the office were the worst thing he had experienced. Everyone was whispering and looking at him; and of course they would. He was Brandon Foster. The Vice Principal's Son; the Police Officer's Son. The one who had never even stolen a pencil was now walking out of the VP's office.
He needed to get out of there; he couldn't handle being in school, surrounded by people who had barely known him, assuming the worst about him, as if they had any idea what was going on. It reminded him of Talya judging Callie when she first met her, and it angered him to no extent.
So here he was now, avoiding everyone, listening to the waves crash against the beach, thinking about how he had gotten himself into this situation. All he had wanted to do was make the situation better for everyone - to do something right for once because nothing had been going according to plan, but once again, he had screwed up, royally.
He felt his pocket buzz and he reached in to check his phone. "Hey, is everything alright?" It was from Callie; of course it was her, she had seen him rush out of school. He didn't want to respond, but he felt like he needed to. "No, nothing is alright." Shoving his phone back into his pocket, he stood up, knowing it was time to get home. He took the long way back; the less time he spent being surrounded by the people he knew would be most disappointed by him, the better.
Walking back, he was grateful that Lena had wanted to keep the situation quiet. He wasn't sure what Stef would do if she had found out. Thankfully neither of their cars were in the driveway as he made his way through the front door and up into his room.
Being alone with his thoughts had made him feel sick. He had committed a felony, a crime that would have landed him in jail had he been anyone else's son. And for what reason? Just to make some money so that he could keep up the illusion that everything was right in his life?
No, deep down, he knew he the issue was much deeper. For the longest time, he had known what he wanted and how to get it, but the past several weeks had flipped his world upside down and he was struggling just to remain afloat; he had lost his identity, his purpose and he had no idea how to find it again. And so, when he found out about Ana and realized what he could do, he jumped on it; jumped on the idea of finally having a purpose again, of finally doing something right, without thinking of the consequences. What was it that she had said to him? He had to be careful. Easier said than done.
The impetus behind the change was obvious, he knew it was her. It had always been her. But he couldn't blame her, not really, because after all, he was the one to first let his feelings be known, he was the one to initiate it all…
He was broken by his reverie by the sound of being called down to dinner. He didn't want to go, wanted to use the excuse that he was sick, but knew that it would simply invite more curiosity that he didn't want.
It was easy for him to pretend that everything was okay while eating because Mariana steered all of their conversations towards the play and he was grateful for it. He knew that, while he had the rest of the family fooled, he didn't fool her; the curious and comforting glances that Callie threw his way coupled with the feel of her knee nudging his every now and again told him that. He knew she was trying to help, but he wasn't sure he could accept it. They had decided not to belong to one another like that anymore - to not be dependent on the other for their sanity - but how could he when he was losing his sanity faster than he was losing her?
He volunteered to do the dishes, simply as a measure of being alone, of avoiding to fake conversation and continuing to pretend he was okay. If truth be told, he was sick of everything, sick of feeling left alone in dark, sick of being ostracized by everyone just because he was trying to help. Most of all though, he was sick of not being able to talk to the one person he wanted to talk to in the whole world, of not letting her comfort and care for him. But he knew that he had to for her sake, because she couldn't be worried about him when she was finally starting to get to a better place.
He just about ran to his room after he finished drying the dishes, telling them he felt sick and would just go to bed. Though Stef had been the one to speak, Callie had been the only one to look up, concern spilling out of her like an erupting volcano.
"Okay, honey, just let us know if you need anything."
He wasn't sure how long he'd been sleeping, but he was suddenly awoken by the feeling of something soft against his arms...someone laying their head against his chest. He knew who it was before he even opened his eyes – her scent, the feel of her body against his were so familiar to him, that had he had lost all of his senses, he would still be able to tell it was her.
"Callie, what are you doing here?" He asked sternly. "This…you…we can't do this anymore…"
She responded softly, snuggling closer to him, "I know." Her tone reminded him of the last time he had said those same words to him, causing a nasty feeling in the pit of his stomach.
He had no idea how she could have gotten closer to him, but she did. He was startled at how perfectly she fit in his arms. His defense was faltering…all he wanted to do was take her up into his arms and never let go. But he wouldn't.
He finally opened his eyes, looking at her - her eyes already staring intensely into his with a determination he hadn't seen in a long time – not since they decided that they needed to stop. "Then…why are you here?"
"Because I don't want you to feel alone, and tonight you need me here, and don't try to tell me otherwise." She said matter of factly.
He softly pushed her away from him, removing her from his embrace, it hurt but he knows it was the right thing. "I know you want to help, but Callie, I can't have you here right now, not with everything that's going on." And it was so hard for him to say those words, because he knows she's right - he does need her, he'll always need her and she's always been able to see through him like no one else has. But he couldn't do this to her, he couldn't let her worry about him like she was.
He was just so disappointed in himself and knows that she'll be disappointed in him if she finds out – the look on her face when he saw her at Chase's house was proof of that. And there's nothing that could hurt him more than the thought of her being disappointed in him.
"I don't care; I'm going to stay here with you and there's nothing you can say or do to convince me otherwise." She said as she snuggled back into him, hugging him from behind, even tighter than she was before. He had to close his eyes at the contact.
"Callie…" he responded painfully. How many times had he dreamed about this very situation – her sneaking into his room in the middle of the night, them lying in his bed, spending the night talking until they would fall asleep in each other's arms and waking up in the same position. He was frustrated beyond words; how could the universe be so cruel and twisted? She was finally with him, in his arms, in his bed, and they were stuck in this limbo.
"I'm not leaving, Brandon..." She whispered, moving her face to rest gently on his shoulder. "I'm never—"
"Don't. Don't make promises we both can't be kept," he interrupted, harsher than he intended to but she needed to hear it (just as much as he did). "You said we both needed space to think things through, and you were right."
"I know you feel alone, more than you've ever felt and you're shutting everyone out and I can't stand how you're shutting me out too." He wasn't sure if it was her words or her breath against his ear that caused a shiver to run down his spine. But didn't she see that it was causing him pain, not letting her in?
"If I let you in again," he began, sadness filling his voice, "I'm not sure how I'm supposed to stop…it's late. You really should go, if Mariana wakes up and goes looking for you and finds you here…" He shook his head. He couldn't take looking at her in his bed and not having her in his arms, so he turned his back to her hoping she would get the message; it was easier to forget about the problem when he didn't have to face it head on, literally.
They laid there in silence; there was no indication that she was going to move back towards him; the realization that she was going to accept his words and go to her own bed made him both sad and gleeful. He wasn't sure how he could be feeling that, but what he was sure about was that he was going to explode when he felt her move closer to him, curling her arm around his hip and slowly making its way up to his chest. He didn't know if she meant to rest her hand right against his beating heart, but he had to laugh at the situation. She owned his heart; she always did and always would.
"What do we do tomorrow?" His voice as smooth as silk.
"Don't worry about it now, just go to sleep. We'll figure out what we are going to do about tomorrow, tomorrow." She responded, snuggling even closer.
So this is what people talked about when they said their emotions were running wild; once again, he was a mixture of content and disheartened at the same time. On one hand, he knew that she was right - he needed (they both needed) to relish in the fact that they were having this little moment of peace where they can pretend everything is normal. But on the other hand, how would he be able to deal with the knowledge that this would never happen again? That she would sneak out of his bed in the morning, long before he woke up? How could he be happy with forgetting that this happened, forgetting that she had stayed in his arms (even if it were for one night)? How could he be happy knowing that after tonight, they would both have to go on avoiding each other, because they both knew the rules?
Her breath tickled his ear. "Just try, Brandon." How had she known him so well that without speaking a word to her she knew his worries? She had always been able to tell him exactly what he needed to hear and he knew there was no fighting her words; he honestly couldn't fight it anymore. Yes she might be disappointed in him, but he did it for his mom and his dad and what's the point of doing something if it didn't help anyone? Not all decisions were perfect, but at least he was doing it for a good reason and out of everyone, she would be able to understand.
There are so many things that he wanted to tell her – how fortunate he was that she came into his life; how lost he had been without her, how grateful he was that she understood what he needed and when he needed it and didn't take no for an answer. He wanted to tell her that he couldn't (and didn't want to) see a future without her in his life, be it a romantic relationship or not. But he couldn't. Not now.
He had to relish in the moment – be happy with the situation they were in now, because he wasn't sure if this would happen ever again and they both would need something to help them carry them through. Tomorrow they would hurt again, but tonight…well tonight they both needed this.
He felt before hearing her breath catch as he moved his hand to clutch and squeeze her small ones, holding on for dear life. He simply brought her hand up to his lips and pressed a gentle kiss against her palm, causing her to relax even more into him.
The silence engulfed them, each caught up in their own thoughts. Every now and then he would gently squeeze her hand, and she would nuzzle his neck in response, letting the other know that regardless of what situation they were in, they would always be there for each other.
Hope this doesn't cause you to hate me...but if you cry buckets I won't say that I'm not pretty proud.
Also I know I should be working on the second chapter of Biscuits and Gravy, but time constraints and writers block is holding me back; when inspiration strikes I will write :)