A/N: I've had a really bad summer. I lost somebody who meant the absolute world to me to cancer. So this is how I'm coping. Not sure how long this is going to be, but I need to get it down and out of my head. I just stumbled upon The Fosters on Netflix not to long ago and even though I'm a huge Stelena fan, this just couldn't get out of my head.

Disclaimer: I don't own The Fosters, but the one Adams Foster character I do own is the youngest one named Micah Adams Foster (who is 16 years old and biologically Lena's because it was stuck in my head).

Warning: Character death and heavy OC storyline, if you're not okay with that, I'm not forcing you to read it!

The point of view will go back and forth between Micah's point of view and Lena's point of view. I really hope you like this, even though it will be sad.

First POV is Lena's.


Prologue: The New Normal

It ends on a Sunday. Just an ordinary, somewhat average Sunday.

Except, Sundays aren't ordinary or even somewhat average anymore.

They haven't since stomach cancer took the life of your lover, your best friend, your protector.

No, Sundays which used to be filled with laughter from your wife and youngest son, Micah. They used to filled with their banter and weird sense of humor.

Five of six of your kids were grown, Brandon was in a band that traveled the world months upon end, Callie was working as a lawyer in Boston, Jesus was a baseball player for the New York Mets, Mariana was a fashion designer in New York City, and Jude is an enlisted Sailor serving your country in the United States Navy stationed in Hawaii.

It left you and your wife with your sixteen year old son, Micah who was a splitting image of you and Stef. He looked like you, but had the personality of Stef.

He was soft yet strong. Compassionate yet passionate. Loved cooking and barbecuing. Played football in the fall and baseball in the spring. He had an hard exterior to the outside world yet had the softest exterior towards his family.


The entire family was in the hospital room when she died. She had collapsed after a Thanksgiving meal and Micah knew what to do. This isn't the first time she's collapsed, but it was the last.

The doctor told you, three days after her admittance, to start making funeral plans and to start saying goodbye. One by one your kids told her they loved her and that they'll miss her. One by one they gave her a kiss on the forehead goodbye. Then one by one they walked out of the room. Leaving her last moments with you. For a solid seven moments you stared at her. You last words to her were that you loved her and that you always will.

She took her last breath and you let the tears flow down your face. You felt arms around you and turned to see that Brandon was holding you and he was crying to.

It took you three hours, but you finally left the hospital and when you did, you cried even more when you realized the your bride wouldn't be sleeping next to you ever again.

You cried yourself to sleep wearing one of Stef's old sweatshirts, imagining her arms being wrapped around you.


A week later, everything was starting to get back to normal. Well, a new normal.

Your older kids had gone back to their respective homes in New York, Boston, and Hawaii. And you were sitting trying to read a book when you heard the front door slam shut.

You look up to see Micah who had just gotten home from his part-time job to save up for a car before he graduated from high school and he was mad and you didn't know at what.

You had a feeling that he was dealing with the stages of grief, but you didn't know because he didn't talk anymore, he didn't eat. He was about to go into baseball conditioning and you just want him to let you in.

"What's wrong baby?" You asked him. Hoping just hoping he'll let you in.

"Customer service during Christmas time sucks," he mumbled and you know that's not what's bothering him, but you let it slide because those six words are the most he's said to you in a week.

"I'm sorry baby." You say, not really knowing what else to say.

"I'm going to go up and change and then I'll start dinner, okay?" He said. He's been making dinner for the past week because it gets his mind off of the void that is currently in the house. The void that your wife used to fill.

"Sounds good," you said as he headed upstairs to change his clothes. You sigh hoping that he's dealing with his emotions solo because he could break at any moment an time.

Five minutes later, he comes down wearing a Padre's sweatshirt and a pair of sweatpants. You were trying to just go on living life figuring out how to live without her.

When people found out that Stef had cancer they brought over food left and right so you could spend time with her and not making dinner for the three of you. When she died they did the same, grieving is not an easy process.

You watched how your son opened the fridge, he made some comment about how he could do without some kind of casserole, but he pulled out the one that Mike had dropped by earlier that day. And put it in the oven and you feared that the silence was going to be the new normal.

He sat across from you and smiled softly, "How was your day Mama?" He asked.

"Quiet," you said. "Your siblings called me throughout the day though."

His head fell, "Sorry I didn't call you on my break," he said softly.

"It's fine," you say. "I'm sure they had you busy with holiday shoppers."

"There was the woman that I checked out today," he said, "she reminded me a lot of her. I almost thought it was her before I did a double take."

You grabbed his hand, offering some comfort, "I'm sorry." You said.

He caresses the back of your hand and looks down at your handhold, "I miss her," he admitted. "Is it ever going to get better?" He asked. "Did-did it ever get better for Mom after her dad died?"

You sighed and remember all those nights where you held your wife because she was crying about Frank. You remembered all those times where she shut you out because she didn't know how to cope.

You looked at your son and said, "She learned to live without him there, that's what we gotta do baby."

"Are-are you going to still work long hours?" He asked. You stared at him, you got the principal job when he was in the sixth grade and ever since then you've worked long, weird hours, leaving him with Stef. "I mean, it's cool if you do. But, I just need to prepare myself, you know for those times I'm not working or at practice and the house is quiet and Mom isn't bored looking for something to do."

"I'll see what I can do," you said. "We're going to get through this together."

He nodded and got up to get dinner out of the oven and as he did you remember his last conversation with your wife:

"I'll always take care of her," he promised. "Whether you live or not. She'll always be taken care of."

"Thank you, my baby," Stef said weakly. "I love you."

"I love you too." He said kissing her forehead.

You were brought out of your thoughts by dinner being placed in front of you and you look at the small amount on your son's plate, "Could you maybe have a little more than that please?" You asked.

"Hm?" He said, obviously you caught him in deep thought.

"Could you maybe have a little more to eat tonight please?" You asked. "Please?" You almost beg.

"I'm not really hungry," he said. "I know that you're worried, but I can't eat. I can't sleep. It's like a part of our lives is missing. Because a part of our lives is missing. It's not the same anymore, Ma." He said getting frustrated. "In a lack of a better way of saying it, I need my Mommy." He said. Your eyes well up in tears and you finally watch your son break down and you walk around the table and scoop him up in your arms as he cried. "I need my Mommy." He said over and over again.

You sit there are remember the last time he called Stef Mommy, Anchor Beach was involved in a school shooting during his freshman year just two years ago. And to make him more like the police officer at the time, he got shot. He obviously made it through, but when he woke up from his coma, Stef was sitting there at his bedside and instead of asking the woman to marry him, like Stef did with you, he just murmured, "Mommy." He began Stef's boy when you began working as principal.

You sat there and comforted your son as he cried in your arms.


You slept in your son's bed that night and just held him as he cried. He cried for hours and you just held him.

When he stirred the next morning, you pulled him closer. "Good morning baby," you said.

"Morning Mama," he said with a hoarse voice.

"You wanna play hookie today and take a drive?" You asked.

"I have a huge test is trig and English or I would." He said. "You know Carlson and Timothy won't let me make it up. Rain check for this weekend?" He asked. "I'm not working."

"It's a date," you said kissing his cheek. "Now let's get up. I'll get a decent breakfast in you for your two tests."

"I was hoping for a breakfast burrito, like you normally make when I have big tests," he asked.

You kissed his cheek again, "Of course baby." You said happy that he'd be eating.

It was going to take awhile, but the two of you would find a way with life after your love's.

The denial and isolation was on it's way out and the anger was coming in, but you knew that every step of the way the two of you had each other.


Chapter End: Just a brief intro chapter. I'll be intermixing the rest of the Adams Foster family in throughout the story. Also flashbacks to show Stef's relationship with Micah will also be shown throughout the story.

Hope you stick around and don't hate this (or me) too much.