This is written in response to the NCIS:LA Magazine Challenge #2
Thank you in advance to all who review.
Trust.
Chapter 1
Callen had a rule as a child. Out of all the rules he learnt over the years this was his number one rule.
Don't trust blindly and never think you're safe.
Only once had someone managed to completely break that rule.
Callen was fourteen; he was lanky for a teenager and sullen. (According to his social workers), he didn't really 'play well' with others.
He was just leaving his 28th foster home…it was two in the morning.
He carefully eased open the window as Mr. Taylor's drunken snores echoed down the hall and he eased his legs out of the window. Sticking out his tongue at the house he lowered himself down the guttering to the ground and picked up his bag and sauntered, with swagger if you asked him, down the road.
It was slowly starting to get light and he knew it would be at least a whole day before anyone noticed he was gone, Mr. Taylor would wake up about 12.30 with a hangover and Mrs. Taylor hadn't noticed him when he was there, she had still set meals for herself, her husband and her son. However, Callen had ended up sneaking food from the school cafeteria and eating there.
But school was another place he wouldn't be going back to soon, his sneakers were falling apart and had been held together by duct tape and Mrs. Taylor had refused to wash his clothes so when he had gotten soaked in the last downpour his clothes still had muddy streaks on them.
So, he had been bullied at school although he had refused to fight back; not because he was weak, much the opposite. More that he knew he was stronger than them and he refused to hit anyone unless they were bigger, meaner than him and he absolutely had too.
Going home with a black eye and a swollen jaw had been a kicker; Mr. Taylor had laughed at him and sent him to bed without dinner for fighting. When Callen had answered back saying that they never fed him anyway the resulting punch in the stomach had sealed his resolve to leave.
It was his stomach that brought him back to the present, it rumbled and he looked around convinced that everyone within a two block radius could hear it.
He hadn't eaten in three days and his body was telling him to eat.
He climbed into a dumpster behind a restaurant and grabbed a slice of pizza from a box thrown out the night before. Picking off the anchovies, because no one in their right mind likes anchovies, he took a bite. Yuk! But it was food and stomping down his gag reflex he ate the slice, slipping out unnoticed from behind the restaurant he walked to the beach, found a water fountain and took a long drink, he walked over to the Santa Monica pier and walked all the way to the end.
Sitting with his legs over the edge he threaded his arms through the railings and stuck his head through, getting dizzy as he watched the surf go forwards and backwards.
He looked over at the horizon, the sun was starting to rise and he figured he would just sit there and watch it, the start of another day…the start of a free day, no school, no social workers, and no mean foster parents…the start of a whole new life.
Before long he listened to the sounds of the pier as the boardwalk came to life as a few traders were turning up to set out their carts. He heard the voices of two men in the surf below him.
"Tie it here; the tide's coming in, no one will see it till the tide comes out and it'll be too late." A gravelly voice said.
"If we're caught we'll get arrested." The other a younger voice replied.
"Look, it's worthless, a whelp…no one wants it and I ain't paying a vet to do something I can do for free." The older voice snapped.
Callen sighed, that was how the world saw him. A worthless whelp that no one wanted.
He watched the two men walk up and got up to leave…then he heard a small whine.
If he'd have been sitting anywhere else he would have missed it, he heard the yapping again followed by a frightened bark.
He ran full pelt down the pier annoying other traders as this scrawny teenager pushed past in his frenzy to get to the beach, ignoring their annoyed cries he ran until he was directly below where he had been sitting.
The tide was coming in and his sneakers were totally ruined, although they hadn't been far off it before. He looked around frantically and just as the wave broke he saw a sopping wet bedraggled head of a terrified puppy.
The little black mongrel spotted him and yelped again and he waded through the surf to get to the dog.
He pulled and pulled at the rope that tied it to one of the bollards of the pier and finally there was enough give that he was able to pull the dog out.
Exhausted but pleased he waded further under the pier to the point where he had dropped his bag and they both moved under the edge of the wall at the end into the darkness.
Callen, whilst there was no one around quickly stripped off his clothes changing into his dry spare pair that had been in his bag. He picked up the puppy which hadn't moved since he put it down and wrapped it in an old hoodie he had had.
He started rubbing it like a towel, "Come on Buddy, breathe…" he said desperately trying to get some life out of the poor thing, "Come on Buddy, we're the same you and I, you ain't gonna leave me all alone now are you?" he begged.
The puppy opened one eye and licked him.
"Yes!" Callen smiled. "You ok?" he asked looking down at the wet dog.
Two seconds later his arms flew over his head as the puppy shook itself down and water droplets went flying everywhere.
"YUK BUDDY!" Callen shouted. The puppy sat and looked at him.
"OK, so your name is Buddy, mine's Callen…well, G…but that's not really a name…although it means I get to pick my own sometimes." Callen smiled and stroked the dog, which licked his hand.
"Well it was nice to meet you Buddy, I'm glad you're not dead and all." Callen said fully intending to leave the dog.
"I can't take you, I don't have anywhere to live…well neither do you but they'd take you at the pound…and foster… You… Out…." He said slowly realizing what he was about to do.
"Ok, so no foster parents for you either…You and me against the world; Buddies forever, eh Buddy?" he asked.
The dog wagged his tail and followed Callen along the beach, dragging one of his discarded sneakers in his mouth.
Callen hung around the beach all day, he found with a dog, he was able to blend in more with the tourists; no one questioned his right to be there or moved him on.
He found a Frisbee in the sand and played with the dog some more, loved it when the girls in bikinis came over to pet the puppy and he got to talk to them.
They both had a drink at the water fountain and a kind dog owner gave him a spare bowl for Buddy to drink out of. Callen laughed when halfway through the day Buddy came tearing down the beach with a new pair of sneakers in his mouth, not being able to see the owner Callen tried them on, a little big but wearable.
"Good dog Buddy, now I don't have to go barefoot tonight." He laughed.
All in all it was the best day of his life ever, he'd been relaxed, he had eaten, turned out buddy was adept at stealing hot dogs too and he had new sneakers…and the very best thing he had a friend…his very first and he trusted him.
The sun started to set and Callen looked for somewhere to bed down for the night, shelters were out, they used to report minors on their own to child services so he grabbed some cardboard for protection and he and Buddy found an alley behind a theatre and fell asleep to the faint sounds of Marty Mcfly in the new Back to the future movie, playing inside.
