Hi there!

I've been around fanfiction for a while, but I just decided to make an account and start writing.

Sooo I'm not really sure what I'm doing with this at the moment. Right now it's just a way to get my feelings out...I do have a storyline planned out though.

I really have no idea how to use this site yet, so please bear with me. I also know that like, no Wyallie shippers exist in this fandom. But I'm posting this anyway :B

Sorry for the blabberin'. But please let me know what you think of this story! Even if you hate it, I'm probably gonna keep posting chapters. I'm not sorry.

Anyway, I'll shut up now. Hope you enjoy!

It was nothing new to her.

She'd gone through it far too many times already. Filling a bag with her limited belongings. Taking one last look at the place she currently called home. She'd mastered tiptoeing in her previous homes, so getting out was not a problem. It was practically a routine.

But why did it feel so different this time?

There was no lack of feeling. She couldn't just throw her things in a sack and leave without looking back. This time, she felt something. Sadness. Hopelessness. Despair.

She cared about the people in this home. And they cared about her. She wasn't just another liability. She was a member of the family.

She felt like crap. She knew this would throw them into a panic. They'd actually spend time looking for her. They would care. But there was nothing else she could do.

She couldn't stay in this house. She couldn't take it anymore. But she couldn't tell Stef and Lena. She wasn't going to tear the family apart. The only option she had was to leave.

After packing her things, Callie crept silently out into the hallway. She took a last look at the doors to the bedrooms, picturing the faces that lay beyond them. She took a longer look at where Jude was sleeping; she knew this would kill him. But she couldn't think of another solution.

Before she second guessed herself, she glided downstairs and made her way to the door. She unlocked the door slowly, trying to quiet any noise it might make. She opened the door only enough to slip out, then locked it again and shut it behind her. After walking to the end of the driveway, she took a final look back. This house was the first place she felt safe. The first place with people who cared about her. Who loved her. And she was about to run away.

After walking a few blocks away, Callie stopped and sat down on the curb. She thought back to any place she might possibly be able to go. She didn't know where to go. She didn't have anywhere else. This was the only place she could call home.

Her mind was reeling, thinking back to her other homes. She'd never been in this situation. Every other time, she'd been thrown out by her guardians. She'd never voluntarily run.

She began thinking back to the present. Wyatt. He was the only person who was always there for her. He was the anchor she needed in her life. And she'd pushed him away.

It wasn't entirely her fault. He didn't know the whole story. He couldn't know. Nobody could.

Callie pulled her knees to her chest and rested her elbows on top of them, digging her face into her hands. What was wrong with her? She finally found the one person who would care for her, love her, no matter how much shit she'd gone through. And she pushed him away.

She had to go to him. He was her only hope at this point. Knowing how loyal he was, she had some shred of hope that he'd be willing to help her.

Callie pushed herself back on her feet, and began to make her way to Wyatt's house. The whole time, she pondered what to say to him. He was leaving for Indiana; she would ask to go with him. But why did she want to go? She knew he'd question her motives. She couldn't tell him the truth; no matter how badly she wanted to.

Before she knew it, Wyatt's house came into view. She still hadn't pieced a story together. She thought about hanging back until she could think of something, but before she could go, she heard her name.

"Callie?" Wyatt called out to her. He was standing by his car with the door open, shoving a bag inside. Callie froze. Her heart rate sped up as she tried to form a coherent response. What was she doing here? Why did she need his help? She didn't have enough time to sort it all out.

"Hi," she finally blurted out. She shifted on her feet, then tentatively stepped closer to Wyatt. "I was just…I need…I don't…" Callie struggled to create a response, stumbling over her own words. No matter what she said now, he would know something was up.

"Callie, what's wrong?" Wyatt questioned, shutting the car door and stepping closer to her. Callie jumped at the sound of the door, and she knew she was busted. Wyatt moved so he was standing directly in front of her, then he took her chin in his hand and tilted her head up to look at him. "Hey, are you okay?" he questioned, his brow creased with concern.

Callie opened her mouth to reply, but instead released a pent-up sob. Wyatt responded immediately by pulling her into his arms. She dug her face into his shoulder and let all the emotions she'd been holding in flow out. She could hear Wyatt talking to her, but she couldn't make out the words. She was completely absorbed in her own mind. She forced everything she'd been holding back out, releasing every thought with a new tear.

Once she'd pushed out her thoughts and calmed herself down, Callie pulled back from Wyatt to look him in the eye. "I'm okay," she said, giving him a weak smile. "I think I am, anyway."

"What are you doing here?" he questioned, moving his hands to hold onto her elbows.

Callie sighed. She didn't want to lie, but she couldn't tell him the whole truth. "I had nowhere else to go," she answered honestly.

Wyatt cocked his head to the side, obviously confused by her answer. "What about the Fosters? Did something happen?"

"I…I just couldn't stay there anymore," Callie answered. She vowed only to tell the truth to Wyatt from now on; however, that didn't mean she had to reveal everything. "I need somewhere to go."

"What about your parole?" Wyatt questioned. He knew he was pushing her, but he had to know if she was alright. He'd do whatever he could to protect her and keep her safe.

Callie sighed, pulling back from Wyatt and rubbing her face with her palms. Parole. She hadn't even thought of that. Leaving the state would mean breaking it; but what else could she do? If the cops found her, she'd just end up back in juvie. Away from the Fosters. Away from him.

Wyatt cocked his head. It was killing him, not knowing what was wrong. He wanted to take whatever was hurting her and end its existence. But the best he could do right now was be there for her.

"Hey, I'm sorry," Wyatt said, closing the space between them once again. "I didn't mean to push, I just…I hate seeing you hurt like this. Whatever you need, wherever you need to go, I'll be there by your side."

Callie met his gaze, tearing up at his words. She knew he'd be there for her. She stepped into his open arms and squeezed him in another hug. "To Indiana, then?"