A/N: Hi. I hope very much you enjoy this first part of my story. This fanfic carries on straight after the rescue of Jude in episode one. It will then contain elements of and expand upon episode two before I go off on a complete tangent. I have deliberately avoided elements of episodes 3 and 4 as their developments do not smoothly fit in with my plot and Tom is a made-up character of mine. This was also writen before the true character of Liam was revealed. As such, in this story he is not the same as he is in the show.
Reviews, comments and criticism would be very much appreciated...
"You're not disposable, Callie," Stef had earnestly put to the young girl as she stood facing her, having just been begged to look after her brother over her own well being. Callie had retained her composure, or at least thought ...hoped she had, although she had felt emotionally overwhelmed by the kindness shown towards her, and sick with relief that Jude would be safe that night. "You're...you're not worthless," the elder woman then said, shattering any inward composure she had. However, she had remained outwardly in control...she hoped. Then Stef's kind follow-up smile nearly felled her on the spot.
Callie did not think people thought like Stef, let alone gave voice to such thoughts to strangers...or even to people they loved. Had she ever emoted so much in so few words to her own brother? Brandon's kind words in the car before they left the scene added weight to his mother's. Callie wanted to giggle manically as though doing so would prevent the emotional overload she was experiencing. Brandon's presence that evening had been wonderful; she could not have rescued Jude without him, even with the added arrival of Stef and Mike. She would love to reward him somehow but, she had nothing to give. How did you reward a white knight without sounding like a pointless Facebook update or a trite Twitter utterance? She had nothing to give him beyond that which she knew was not allowed and would only make matters more...confusing.
Despite the blissful kindness she had received, as far as Callie Jacob was concerned she was disposable. Jude was all that mattered. Anything could happen to her; be done to her. She did not care, as long as Jude was safe...and happy. Achieving those two things was her life's ambition; its sole meaning. If it came down to it, she would settle for him being just safe if happiness was not achievable at the same time; the combo was not always possible; the alignment of the two was not always perfect. She had on a few past occasions attempted to secure her own happiness but, had either been let down or betrayed or both at the same time and, at one time, the fall out had jeopardised Jude's well-being. No, it was Jude's safety that counted, and his happiness if achievable. And yet she had failed miserably on both counts. A long-planned and yearned-for dream had been shattered by one act of anger two weeks earlier and, during the last few weeks, Jude had never been more at risk; six years of painstaking endeavour had come so close to tragedy.
Callie retained her composure. Her brother would be safe tonight. But the thought of what had nearly happened rammed its way through her defences. The horror of what could have happened during her long absence then shattered her inside. She felt her skin go cold. The icy sensation lowered itself down her body from head to toe like a veil being removed. Her body shook. She suddenly felt the pain of the beating she had received whilst trying to defend Jude. She felt the bruises and worse of each beating she had received in juvie. It was as though the tension of the last three weeks had held her rigid during that time, offering an absurd protection from physical discomfort, which was now freed to enact its full effect. However, it was the horror of what might have happened that dominated. The pain was almost a blessed distraction; a masochistic form of self-punishment.
"Could you please pull the car over," Callie yelled catching the others by surprise. "Please...now."
Stef parked along the side of the road. Callie opened the car door and leapt out. She near-crawled to the strip of grass that lined the other side of the path, knelt and leant forward, supporting herself with her hands and threw up into the bushes. Whilst she still remained kneeling she wrapped her arms around her body frame and continued to shake uncontrollably whilst breathing deeply; each inward breath eliciting a spasm of pain. It was several seconds before she realised her brother was kneeling by her side. He placed his hands on her shoulders and forced her to turn to face him. They looked at each other but said nothing. Eventually Callie leant her head into Jude's shoulder and he wrapped his arms round her. Callie's body stopped its shaking as her brother's body heat raised the veil; she knew Jude was safe tonight. Jude coached his sister to stand up and walk back to the car. Tonight he felt happy.
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
Callie and Jude were finally alone; the others having retired to their rooms. The kindness, if not actual universal warm welcome, had been unique to what the siblings had experienced in previous homes. Even those wonderful homes where the parents fostered as a vocation rather than just for the monthly pay-check had not been as warm as what they had just experienced. Callie could almost resent the emotions they had elicited. How dare they be so wonderful when they knew they were only going to shelter them for a brief time? It was sadistic, but gloriously so. They represented everything she and Jude had being seeking the last six years, with bells on. The irony of wanting to be alone with her brother right now was not lost on her.
Jude edged closer to Callie. He could sense a quiet desperation in his sister. He could read her emotions like a book: her body language, her posture, her need for touch. Sometimes she needed privacy – although even then she always had to know where he was and that had to be nearby. Her eyes, however, were always sad - even when she was experiencing a degree of happiness. At this particular time he sensed she needed to talk yet tempered by a strong desire not to have to. He bridged the space between them and leant his body next to hers. She reciprocated by putting her arm round him.
"Do you like it here?" The elder Jacob probed.
"It's very...woody," Jude replied. In truth, he liked it very much. Unlike his sister, he was very prone to being impressed early and he was very impressed.
"The Fosters are very nice," Callie offered.
"Yes."
"Could you see yourself to living here?"
"I'll probably dream it tonight." Jude leant out of Callie's embrace and faced her. "It's not going to happen though. There are too few rooms and not a little resentment from the twins. They would never take us on permanently."
Callie jumped into the gap Jude's last statement provided. "They might take just you," she ventured. "You're only small after all," she offered as humour but which was not taken up.
"No, Callie!" Jude instantly reacted. "Don't even think about it." He was two parts angry at her even contemplating – and voicing! - such a thought to one part desperate at the possibility of it happening. "Besides, we can now go ahead with our plans."
"Oh, Jude, that's not going to happen now...I messed up.
"We can still try."
"No judge is going to grant my request. Not now I have a criminal record."
Their plan had been for Callie to apply for emancipation and then for custody of Jude. Both were now non-starters. She had realised that as soon as the police had turned up to take her away that awful night nearly three weeks ago. Since that night she had kept herself awake nights trying to think of alternative solutions. Nothing had been forthcoming – not helped by the constantly-invading fear of what Jude was going through in her absence.
Callie saw her brother accept the reality quickly; no sulking or voicing of wishful thoughts. He seldom required comforting. She sometimes felt robbed. She would have loved to be able to reassure him; to say everything would be alright; there was no boogeyman – supernatural at any rate. At least, she consoled herself, she never had to lie to him.
"Have you spoken to Tom?" Was his response.
"I haven't had a chance to. I've left three messages...from three different phones, for him to contact me here," she ended.
Jude did not ask if Tom had tried to contact her whilst she was incarcerated as she would have told him if he had. "Promise me you won't suggest or agree to us being split up," he almost demanded, returning to the earlier topic.
"Promise? We've seldom required each other to promise before."
"I know but, Callie, I also know you would do anything for me...have done in the past. You would sacrifice your own happiness to ensure I was OK." His sister went to placate him. "I know more than you think I do...stuff that you have tried to conceal." Callie looked scared and horrified, mixed with shame. He felt ashamed. He had resolutely vowed never to reveal to her what he knew – if she wanted to keep stuff from him he was not going to destroy the comfort she gained from thinking she had succeeded. But he needed the promise. "I will trash the place if they only take me on. I will make myself so unwelcome they will throw me back to Bill in a heartbeat. I did it once before, remember?"
Callie hated recalling that period in their lives. She had been heartbroken – almost catatonic with grief – when he had been placed in a home separate from her, yet rejoiced at the fact he had been settled. Worst of all was the sweet memory of feeling intoxicated with joy when he had been discarded from the foster home to be reunited with her. The shame at such a feeling was crippling since it meant Jude had to endure several months in the children's home before another placement became available – the one for which he just been rescued from.
"I promise," she relented and felt sick at the relief it bathed her in. She truly did not want to be separated from her brother and she never broke her promises to him. Jude appeared immediately satisfied. He trusted her vow completely. "It's very late," Callie said finally. "Lie down and I'll turn off the lights."
As she lay down herself, Callie decided to cling onto a vestige of hope that Tom would contact her; that he would come to her. Tom was...OK. She never tried to convince herself that she loved him; that she had any desire for him. Surely, she thought, physical attraction did have to be backed up by love or desire if it provided a blessed release from reality. He was just...OK. He listened to her, laughed with her – made her laugh. More importantly, Jude liked him. They both chatted endlessly about boy stuff; things a teenage girl did not know of, or could not contemplate discussing. When he messed around with Jude it provided Callie with precious moments of solitude, where she did not have to worry about where her brother was – she knew he was safe with Tom.
Perhaps Tom would stop Brandon from staring at her. It freaked her out when he did that...and made her smile; it made her feel like an object...and a person; it unearthed buried-for-a-reason bad memories...and conjured fresh wonderful dreams. She needed Tom to make her see sense that anything with Brandon would only end badly.
Please don't make Brandon fall in love with me she entreated. Nor me fall in love with him. Both were personal thoughts to herself, not prayers. She would dearly love to have the comfort and reassurance of a faith to hold her steady but could not conjure up any enthusiasm to try for one. She knew also that, if she did believe, she would likely never give any deity the time of day; to her a blessed afterlife was no consolation for a crappy prequel.
Having finally found a posture which reduced her physical discomfort to a dull ache, Callie fell asleep. She dreamt of a light at the end of a tunnel that kept on getting longer; of Jude being trapped in Hell, with her banging on a glass wall outside. I am so sorry, Jude. It was all my fault she screamed through the soundproof barrier. She dreamt of a way to ensure that Jude was safe in a foster home with two loving mothers and three foster siblings – a way that did not require her to break her promise.
She sat bolt up right, the memory of the last dream clear in her head. She was scared - not so much at the prospect of carrying out the terms of the dream – the scary endgame but, rather at the euphoria she felt. As if on cue, her body screamed in protest at being disturbed without warning. She wrapped her arms tightly round herself to stem the throbbing of her ribs and the other aches she had been enduring for some time now.
Fortunately she was eventually able to fall asleep again. This time she dreamt of a teenage boy...who was not Tom.
-/-/-/-/-/-/-/-
"I am sorry, you know," Lena offered into the semi-darkness.
"For what?" Stef asked. She already knew the answer but, knew her partner needed to voice her concerns.
"For Brandon ending up in danger as a direct result of me accepting Callie into our home."
"We couldn't have foreseen what would happen and it was his own actions which put Brandon in danger. Much as I am sick with thinking what could have happened had we not turned up, I can't help feeling proud of him."
"Me too," Lena happily agreed and was relieved to have her own thoughts mirrored. "I also can't help thinking how lucky it was that we took in Callie. It breaks my heart when I remember how desperate and sad they both looked when we arrived."
"Did you notice how sad Callie's eyes look?" Stef asked.
"Are you kidding? They felled me the very first time we were introduced."
"They don't even alter when she is obviously relieved or has cause to smile."
Thoughts of Brandon standing in front of a loaded gun and the sad eyes of a young girl they had only met a couple of days before, yet was now sleeping in their living room, kept the two Mom's awake most of the night, even though they had stopped talking hours earlier.
To be continued.