Disclaimer: I do not own these characters or anything else about The Fosters.

Sorry if I have any information wrong. There have only been two episodes and I really wanted to add some more fanfiction to the archive to get people more psyched about it. I think it's a really great show and I hope it can continue for a long time. If anyone has suggestions for a story they'd like me to write next, leave it in the comments or private message me. I love writing but I have the hardest time coming up with prompts.

I really hope you enjoy this. Thank you so much for reading.

Hyperactiveness

There was more than one reason that Jesus had always hated foster care. Most of the parents were just in it for the extra money they got for fostering children and never really paid much attention to the children's needs. No one really realized that Jesus had attention issues until he and his sister made it to the Foster's home. They actually cared and that felt really nice. Jesus finally got the help he needed and being medicated wasn't fun but it helped him.

He and his sister were fourteen. They had come to the Foster's house eight years before when they were six. Most children were hyperactive, so when he was in kindergarten and preschool, none of his teachers had noticed either. He wasn't with Steph and Lena yet and he was having serious issues. He was constantly getting into trouble at school and he really couldn't control it.

2005

Jesus had already gone to the bathroom twice and gotten up to get a tissue twelve times and the day wasn't even half over, yet. He looked over at his sister, coloring like the rest of the kids in his class were. He looked down at his paper. They were supposed to be drawling their family. He had two stick figures to represent he and his sister but there were also random squiggles and drawings that he had begun to work on when he got bored.

He only had about a ten second attention span and every time someone in the classroom made a noise he looked up and over to them. His leg bounced up and down, wanting to get up again. He could tell that his teacher was watching him and remembered the look she had given him the last time he had gone up to get a tissue. She was getting fed up with the distractions he caused whenever he got up to walk around. It was obvious that other children were starting to notice and stopped their drawing every once and awhile to see what he was up to.

He really wasn't trying to be annoying or disruptive. He was just bored and even though they had only had first recess about thirty minutes ago, it seemed like second recess and lunch couldn't come fast enough. They weren't allowed to talk right then because everyone, mainly himself, had been being too loud and the teacher had ordered that they sat in silence.

They didn't have the best teacher. They didn't go to the best school. The house that the twins were currently residing in was poor in quality and contained about eight other foster children as well. It wasn't a good situation.

He was very thankful when he and Mariana finally got home, unleashed from the stifling environment created by school. Kindergarten was supposed to be more fun and allowed the kids more time to get their energy out but it was never enough for Jesus.

He was soon outside in the back, playing with a slowly deflating soccer ball. He kicked it through the self made obstacle course he had created with broken tree limbs and other random items he had found. His head shot up when he heard the backdoor open and watched a couple of the high school aged kids walk out. He was curious as to why they seemed to be heading towards him.

"Hey kid, we've got something we want you to try," One chuckled, his face dark. They had a tablet of speed, wondering what it would do when given to such a hyperactive kid. They wanted to release him onto their foster parents to annoy them and give them a distraction.

"Uh. . . no thank you," Jesus had seen the tablet and was quickly reminded on the police officer that had come into their classroom and told them all not to take strange pills without a doctor's permission.

He yelped when he was grabbed by the teenager not holding the pill, his mouth forced open as the other one shoved the pill into it as he struggled to get away. His mouth was closed and a hand squeezed his nose closed as well so he couldn't breathe until he swallowed. As soon as he did the two stepped back, watching him as if he were going to explode.

When the pill did finally start working he started feeling like everything was slowing down. It was—nice. He felt normal for once. The two got bored, spitting at him in annoyance and walking away. He went inside, sitting by his sister and starting to draw with the extra supplies. He felt normal for once—and that was nice.

When he was seven, he told Lena about that happening. Once she realized what it was, she took him to get tested and he got the medication he needed to control his hyperactiveness. Foster care sucked, but if not for it he might not have gotten what he needed as quickly as he had. So maybe, just maybe, it was a good thing.

So like I said, go ahead and private message me with any stories you want me to write and I will consider it.

Or you can put it in a comment. And if you liked this please take a moment to give me a comment [it can be one word] to encourage me to write more.

Or feel free to bash it or just give me criticism.