Disclaimer: I don't own the Fosters, only the plot and any characters you don't recognize from the show.
Author's Note: And I'm back again, with the sequel to We Care. Some of you may be disappointed with the direction this is heading, but inspiration has struck, and I have a basic outline for where I'm going with this. There is going to be drama, and there is going to be fluff. Eventually. Some of the stuff from recent episodes will be in here, some of it is AU. Occasionally I've stolen full scenes from the show, because why rewrite something that already works? Enjoy, and leave a review to let me know what you think, please!
Recap: 10 days after Callie ran away, a doctor called Stef and Lena saying that she was at a psychiatric hospital in Los Angeles after being found on a bridge with the intent to commit suicide. Callie was placed under a 72-hour psychiatric hold, which was then lengthened due to an incident at the hospital. Every day she was there (after the family is notified), one or more members of the family came to visit her during lunch. Also during this time, two significant therapy sessions occurred during which Callie figured out what she wanted – family – and that it was possible for her to have it with people who actually wanted her and cared about her (the Fosters). She's still confused about her feelings for Brandon, but has decided to place a higher priority on getting a family than the possibility of a relationship. On her last day, Bill showed up to take her away, driving her from Los Angeles to San Diego, without telling Callie where he was taking here. So where will Callie end up? Stay tuned!
Chapter 1: Allegations
"Here we are," Bill said, pulling into an unfamiliar driveway.
"Where is here?" Callie asked numbly.
"It's called Girls United. It's a group home for teenaged girls."
"Why not the Fosters?" she couldn't help but ask.
"Callie, I was planning on taking you there, but then I found out you haven't been honest with me. My supervisor told me about a phone call he received just earlier today. An anonymous tipper informed him that you were in a relationship with your foster brother, Brandon. The tipper said they had heard about it from Brandon directly." He paused. "Callie, I would have hoped that what had happened with Liam would have taught you a lesson about having a relationship with a foster sibling. I know, being a teenager means hormones and whatnot, but you starting to appear...uh, sexually volatile. Relationships with foster siblings are strictly not allowed. As such, we cannot permit you to return to that environment, and it's unlikely you'll get placed with another family with that on your record, twice. You're high risk."
"I was not in a relationship with Liam. He raped me. How can you not get that?"
"That's your version of the story. That's not what the law determined."
"And it was different with Brandon. We shared a kiss, that's all. Dr. Finch and I figured out that I was overwhelmed by everything that was happening and was confusing my feelings. I want a family with the Fosters, with Brandon as my brother, not my boyfriend."
"That's a nice story, Callie, but we take these things very seriously. There will be an investigation. Hiding it has not done you any favors. If it is determined that your story is true, we may be able to revisit the idea of placing you with them, provided they are still willing to have you."
"And Jude?"
"There has been nothing to indicate that Jude should not stay there. Unless you wish to inform me of something?"
"No! No. He's perfect. They're perfect for each other. I'm the problem child."
"You're a teenager, Callie. Teenagers tend to act out more. And you know teenagers are the hardest to place. Jude will soon be a teenager, so if this doesn't work out, it's going to become progressively more difficult to place him, even by himself."
"They want to adopt him. They want me, too."
"At this time, there are no red flags on his paperwork. Only your's. But if it is determined that your foster parents knew that you and their son were having an illicit relationship and did nothing about it, we might have to reconsider their fitness as adoptive parents."
"They didn't know. And there wasn't a relationship. One, single kiss, during a wedding no less where lots of people kiss, does not equal a relationship."
"The details of the relationship have yet to be determined."
"Why are you not listening to me?"
"Callie, you don't have a very good track record with telling the truth. You claimed you destroyed a man's car because he was beating your little brother–"
"He was."
"–and yet there's no evidence of that. You claimed your foster-brother raped you, and the courts didn't even put him away for statutory rape, which would have happened, given any sexual contact between the two of you because of the age difference."
"What I said was enough for you to remove Sarah from that house."
"We take these allegations very seriously, and while you may have elaborated on some of the details, any kind of romantic relationship between foster siblings is strictly forbidden. So we removed her for the same reason that we are removing you from the Fosters."
"This is messed up."
"You're entitled to your own opinions, Callie, but remember, you brought this upon yourself and CPS has to consider both your safety and the safety of the other children in the house. We think this is the best option for you at this time. As I said, we will revisit it after an investigation has been made into the exact nature of your relationship with Brandon Foster."
"Stef and Lena?"
"They will be informed of your presence here, as they are the current custodians of your younger sibling so any visiting arrangements between the two of you will go through them, unless something unexpected arises. They will also be informed of the allegations about you and their son, Brandon, and will have a chance to air their views on it. It may be that they don't want you in their household once they find out what you've been up to with their son."
He looked at Callie. The anger had fled her body completely, she had stopped defending herself and her actions, and was just sitting in the passenger seat of the car, slumped over and withdrawn. "I don't say this to be cruel, Callie. I realize that you have just gotten out a psychiatric stay, and I don't wish to upset you. But it is better for you to be prepared for all possible outcomes and to be realistic about it." She stayed still, unwilling to even look at him. "Let's go inside, so you can see your new home."
Callie grabbed her bag, and followed him up the steps to the front porch. She studied the sign on the door – 'Girls United: Home for Troubled Girls Working Towards Establishing Trust, Self-confidence, and Personal Leadership.' Troubled girls...I guess that's all I am now, a troubled girl. There's one for the file that is all I am. He rang the doorbell.
A woman answered. "Hi, Bill," she said. "Hi Callie. I'm Rita. Welcome to Girls United. C'mon in." She motioned Callie and Bill through the door. "I'll show you to your room after you meet the girls. There are seven girls who live here full-time. Actually, one just went home yesterday, so your timing was kinda perfect." She gave Callie a small, lopsided smile.
"We appreciate your taking Callie on such short notice," Bill interrupted.
"Do I have to share a room?" Callie asked, turning to Rita.
"Yes, you will," Rita answered.
Well, I guess that was to be expected. "Why are there no bars or security gates? How do you lock us in?" she asked instead. This house seemed contrary to the stories she had heard from other girls who had been in group homes.
"We don't. We trust that you won't leave the premises but if you violate that trust, then there are consequences. You go to a place where there are bars and security gates, like juvie or a more restrictive group home. The choice is really your's." She paused, allowing her words a chance to sink in. "Hey girls, come meet Callie."
Girls started coming from all doorways and all corners of the house, walking past Callie towards a living room and giving her a once-over in the process. She felt like a fish in a fishbowl must feel, and dipped her chin, raising her eyes ever so often to see the figures passing before her. One girl caught her eye and, surprised, she looked squarely into the other girl's face. The last time she had seen this girl was when her face met that girl's fist on her last day in juvie. And from the look on the other girl's face, she also recognized Callie.
Rita motioned Callie into the living room before her, where Callie took a vacant seat. Bill hovered in the background; she got the feeling he wanted to be unobtrusive, but needed to stick around for some reason. Probably to talk to Rita. "Okay ladies, you all know how this works. We're going to go around the room, tell a little about yourself – your age, where you're from, how long you've been here, why you're here, alright? Why don't you start us off, Kiara, since you're Callie's roommate and you'll be her sponsor?"
Kiara turned out to be one of the two African-American girls, though not the one Callie recognized from juvie. Thank God juvie girl's not my roommate. "Hi, I'm Kiara, I'm fifteen. I've been in juvie like, three times...no, four. The first time I got arrested was for throwing bricks at a building when I was like 11, then for gang stuff, you know-" well, as long as she doesn't try to knife me in my sleep, I can deal with that "-possessing and stealing drugs, assault with a deadly weapon, but that was like, not my fault-" another girl smirked at that disclaimer "-anyway, that's me."
The girl next to her began speaking. "Um, I'm Becca, I'm sixteen-"
"Oh, and I've been here two months," Kiara added, interrupting Becca mid-sentence. "And I'm always interrupting," she said, looking a little embarrassed.
"Yes, you are," Rita said.
"Yeah, so, Kiara's been interrupting me the four weeks I've been here."
"Becca, feet," Rita gestured towards Becca's feet, which she had tucked up on the couch. Callie filed that away in her mind – this was not Dr. Finch's couch, which didn't care if you put your feet up. Also, that everybody seemed to interrupt the girl Becca.
"I'm in for drugs, using and selling, and I like, punched a cop. I was shooting drugs in my neck before I came here, so if I wasn't here I'd probably be dead now." She shifted uncomfortably.
"I'm Carmen," the girl next to her said. "I'm seventeen, I..uh...want to join the Army...Are we supposed to say what we want to be?" She turned to Rita.
"That's okay, honey, keep going," Rita encouraged.
"So, like, I've been in this home for six months-" long time "-in juvie three times for gangs, drugs, uh, what else?"
"Kidnapping," Kiara provided helpfully.
"Yeah," Carmen admitted, exhaling a sharp breath.
"Really?" Rita asked Kiara.
"She asked," Kiara defended herself.
"Okay. Zip it. Cole, you're up."
The girl in boy's clothes started talking. "My name is Cole, I'm fifteen, I've been here three weeks. I hate it. " Someone's honest. "What else?"
"Why you're here," Rita prompted.
"Stealing and prostitution," she – he? – said bluntly, without any sign of embarrassment.
"Thank you for sharing. Daphne, you're up."
Juvie girl. "I'm Daphne, I'm seventeen, been here about six weeks. In for gangs, drugs, armed robbery, and assault." Including me? Callie thought.
"Oh, and just so you know, Callie, we have a zero tolerance policy for violence. If you put your hands on anyone else, you'll be asked to leave, no exceptions, alright?" Rita interjected. Callie nodded, but inside she wondered how well enforced that policy was. Was she truly safe, or was that just the byline?
"I'm Gabby, I'm fifteen. I've been here a month, and I'm in for home invasion robbery and cyberbullying." From the look in her eyes as she was talking about it, she felt no shame about any of it.
"So now you know a little bit about everyone, so why don't you tell us a little about you?" Rita prompted Callie.
"I'm sixteen, I ran away from my last foster home. I did a stint in juvie for destruction of property about 10 weeks ago."
"That all you want to share?" Rita asked with a knowing look.
Yes. My life is none of your business. My stay in the crazy house is none of your business. "I don't belong here." Bite on that.
Rita nodded. "Anyone else feel like they don't belong here?" Hands went up all around. "Okay. Happy to have you, Callie. Thank you ladies, you can all go back to whatever it is you were doing now. Kiara, why don't you show Callie upstairs, get her settled in?"
"Sure. C'mon Callie, I'll sure you where you'll be sleeping." Kiara led Callie upstairs, but as she turned on the landing, Callie saw Rita and Bill talking. She wondered what they were talking about, what Bill was telling Rita, how much Rita knew about her.
"So, this is our room. This is my stuff, leave it alone, you get that half," Kiara said, motioning towards the side with the bare bed. "There are sheets and stuff in the hall closet. Here, drop your stuff, I'll show you." She led Callie back out of the room and down the hall. "Bathroom, closet where there are extra towels and sheets and stuff, those are the other girl's rooms..."
"Rita live here, too?"
"Staff room is downstairs. Another woman, Michelle, she works here too sometimes, nights and weekends mostly." They went back to the shared room.
"So, what do we do here?" Callie asked, starting to make her bed.
"School, chores, group, the occasional field trips, every once in the while we get to go to the mall. Saturday's family day. If you've got your privileges, you can have visitors. Well, family anyway, not boyfriends. Gabby keeps trying to sneak her boyfriend in. You got?"
"Got what?"
"Family. Or a boyfriend, except we're not allowed to have those in here."
"I have a little brother."
"I have a brother. That's him," she said, pointing to a picture on the wall. An older brother, Callie noted.
"Does he ever come visit you?"
"Nah, I don't know when I'll get to see him again; he just got twenty-five to life." Oh. "We should go downstairs, it's nearly dinner time."
"Is Rita a good cook?"
"Rita? Dunno, she doesn't cook for us."
"Then who does?"
"We do. We do everything around here, the cooking, the cleaning. There's a chore roster – Rita'll explain it to you. It's supposed to help us learn responsibility and to prepare us for when we're on our own. They teach us how, like give us cooking lessons and stuff."
"Oh."
"If you don't know, you'll learn. And you won't be put on as chef until you can make something edible."
"Good to know."
Callie noticed most of the girls in the kitchen, seemingly hard at work. "Bout time you got here, girl. I thought I'd have to do this all by myself," Daphne said to Kiara,
"I was showing the new girl around."
"Well, you done now, aren't you?"
"Yeah, yeah," Kiara said, joining Daphne over a small mountain of vegetables.
"Callie?" Rita's voice called. "Come here, would you?"
Callie followed the voice to a nearby room. "Yeah?"
"Bill said to tell you goodbye. We had a nice chat."
"Okay..."
"Look Callie, I'm not going to force you to share things, if that's what you're worried about. That's not my job. I hope you will, sharing is very therapeutic. Speaking of therapy, he told me that one of the conditions of your release was individual therapy, so I'll set something up for you. Also, he told me that you were in a relationship with your foster brother, in whose family your younger brother remains. I'm not going into the details of why that's a bad idea, because simply speaking, boyfriends and girlfriends are not allowed for anyone in here. Once you leave us, it becomes an issue for someone else to handle. Alright?" Callie nodded. "I would like verbal confirmation."
"Alright."
"Well, that's settled then. Kiara tell you about this place? Do you have any questions for me?"
"Yeah, what is your job?"
"My job?"
"Well, Kiara said the girls do the cooking and cleaning, and you just said it's not your job to force me to share things, so I was just curious where exactly you fit in all this?"
"Well, mostly I'm here to encourage peer accountability. Which, in layman's terms means, I'm the referee."
"Okay."
"Anything else?"
"How do I get my privileges?"
"The girls in the house vote on them."
"Kiara mentioned a chore roster?"
"Right. Can you cook?"
"Some. Not like, full dinners, or anything."
"We have cooking classes fairly regularly, food from a lot of different cultures actually, so you'll learn more. Here's the chore checklist – you'll rotate in where your predecessor was. The girls will show you. Cole is kitchen foreman this week, so he'll check off on your work."
"Peer accountability."
"Exactly. See Callie, you're getting the hang of things already."
"When can I see my family?"
"Your brother? Family Day is on Saturday, if you've got your privileges."
"My foster family?"
"The one your brother is still with? They can come on Saturday too if they want."
"Okay."
"DINNER!" a voice called out.
"Oh, and there's the call for dinner. Let's go eat, shall we?" They went into the dining room, joining the rest of the girls for a dinner of chicken stir-fry. The other girls talked throughout dinner. Callie just listened, learned, and wondered how Jude and Stef and Lena and Mariana and Brandon and Jesus were doing, and if they were busy eating a happy meal together, or if her absence was noted. See, an insidious voice inside her head said, this is what happens when you hope, when you open up. You just get hurt. Maybe it's all for the best. Let them get on with their lives, and you, well, wait and see. Once you're sure Jude is safe and adopted, then maybe, if things aren't any better...
