Hi everyone! So this story reflects on the episode 2x19, and how Jude, Connor and the girls go in someone's house for whatever reason. I'm really excited for the episode as well as nervous! So here's my take on it, and this is totally Jonnor including both of Jude and Connor's families!

By the way, how heartwarming and moving was that kiss. They are apparently the youngest same sex kiss in all of TV history is the US. That's really impressive! Glad to be a part of such a great fandom which revolves around such diverse issues kids their age are actually facing!

This will most likely be a three-shot.

Hope you enjoy

Shoved

Based on episode 2x19

Part 1

Jude always hated being shoved.

In the hallways at school, there was nothing he despised more than the familiar shoves of the crowd. Or the small push he'd get every now and then from a stupid boy at school. The ones who'd slur silly and disrespectful comments towards him, mostly always irrelevant ones.

He hated the shoves he had gotten from past foster parents, as well as foster siblings. The drunk men and women who'd shove aggressively push him. The way that his last foster father would grab a fistful of his shirt and smash his back into the wall when he'd do something wrong. The older foster siblings who'd take advantage of him and push him around when Callie wasn't there.

And all of them would spit the same awful words at him, one word in particular which was often used. The word which he realized had so much more depth to it than he thought it had. Especially, now that he lived with the Fosters.

Of course, being called a 'faggot' or a 'fag' was painful when he was younger. But he hadn't fully understood it then; not like he does now. And now, the memories of those words seem to linger in his brain much more than he thought they would. Maybe because now, he doubts himself. Maybe because they could hold some truth. Jude wasn't a fag; that he knew. Just like Stef and Lena weren't dykes. They were lesbians. But Jude was still quite unsure of what to label himself as. So for the time being, he didn't label himself at all.

And he wished he never had to.

Jude was certainly not a toy, or a box. No labels needed. He had said it clearly himself the day Connor had confronted him about his sexuality. Jude was not a box, not a toy. Jude was not something which could be shipped off. It felt like that in the foster system; but he was no longer shippable anymore. He was no longer a boy that could be shoved around.

He hated being shoved.

But this time, it was different. This shove wasn't to intimidate him, make him afraid, make him feel small. It wasn't to hand him harm, or threats, or any type of harassment. In fact, it was the opposite.

For protection.

"Jude!" Connor's voice boomed into his ear loudly, standing a few feet on the right of him. Instinctively, Jude's face turned to look at him, but his eyes could barely meet Connor's before Connors hands grasp onto his shoulders and shove him back, Jude falling abruptly on the floor in a stinging contact.

But that was certainly not what stung him the most.

Connor's body seemed to collapse onto the ground in slow motion, time moving so slow he could catch every small detail of Connor he didn't have the time to catch before. His thick brows, his warm piercing eyes which seem so much brighter now, in the brightness of the moonlight by the window. Some stray strands of hair falling in odd angles towards his face, the fullness of his lips.

And suddenly, adrenaline had revived itself, and Connor fell harshly onto the ground. His head bounced up and then smashed down again at the sudden contact, as though it were a trampoline.

Daria let out a sharp cry and Taylor stepped back in shock, a gasp escaping her lips. Jude just sat there on the ground, only a few feet away from Connor, watching the blood spread through his shirt from the lower left side of his stomach. Connor's eyes were still open though, and they never left Jude's. Not to blink, or to glance away, or to close forever. They just stayed on Jude. And Jude's eyes mirrored his.

"Dad!" Taylor exclaimed loudly. Taylor's parents were divorced, and her father was an alcoholic man who lived in the past; still heartbroken from the divorce from his wife. Taylor had mentioned he was aggressive, and found a dangerous comfort in drinking, but she had also promised that he wouldn't be home. And she had never mentioned a gun.

But Jude knew better than to blame her. He knew who the one to blame was. No, not Daria. Because although she had the idea, and she might've influenced them to do it, Jude let them.

This was his fault. He let them do something so foolish. He went with them, and he let himself drink some vodka from that bottle, and he hadn't stood his ground when Connor shoved him out of the way, taking a bullet for him.

Connor took a bullet for him.

The thought was as scary as it was comforting. Connor risked his life for him. But Connor risked his life for him. If Connor dies, it's all his fault. He'd be responsible for the death of his best friend.

"Taylor! What the fuck do you think you're doing?" The voice was loud and scary, but nothing scared Jude more than the softness in Connor's eyes leaving and being replaced by fear and pain. "I just shot that boy! I thought you were robbers! Call the cops, now!"

Taylor just stood and watched as Connor clutched the left lower side of his abdomen, no noise other than a hollow breathing coming from him. "Taylor! Call the cops!" She suddenly escaped her haze, running into the kitchen to call the police.

Daria towered by Connor, not touching him, but just staring at him a few feet away, sobbing hysterically. The girl was in utter shock, as was Jude. But the painful whimper which escaped Connor's mouth was so soft and filled with pain that Jude crawled over to Connor, only inches from him now as Taylor's father applied pressure to Connor's wound.

Jude's hand made its way onto Connor's right shoulder as Taylor's dad was across from the two of them. The man too stressed and focused to see when Connor's left arm reaches across, bloody from where it held the wound, and his hand grasps onto the tips of Jude's fingers as another whimper escaped him.

For such a long part of his life, Jude was called worthless, and impossible, and useless multiple times by classmates and foster parents and foster siblings. But never in his entire life had Jude felt more worthless and useless than in this very moment, for there's no way he could ever save his best friend from this.

"Oh, Connor!" Daria sobs his name, falling right next to Jude on her knees, running her fingers through Connor's hair softly. Although Connor's fingers continue clutching onto Jude's, and Connor's eyes never leave his, he can't help but still feel the unescapable jealousy he's become too familiar with.

Connor squeezes Jude's fingers tightly, and Jude recites it. Jude wonders why Daria hadn't taken Connor's hand from his yet, but that's when he realizes she thinks that he's only doing this because they're best friends and nothing more. But she never knew about the movie theater hand hold, and the unexpected kisses.

But maybe Daria's right. Maybe Connor was only holding onto him so tightly because they're friends, and that's what friends do. They seek one another for comfort; but don't those in relationships do it as well?

But Jude was reminded how this was certainly not just a friendship gesture to simply seek comfort. The depth Connor held in his eyes as he stared at Jude was much more than friendship. He knew it was.

Connor's breaths begin more sharply and harder to reach, and Daria's sobs only become louder, and Jude's grip only becomes tighter. Eventually, their fingers are fully laced together, and tears seem to sting Jude's eyes as well. Connor holding unshed ones in his glassy eyes as well.

"You'll be alright, Connor," Daria cries, practically unintelligible as she chokes on her loud sobs. "I promise. And Jude does too, right Jude?" Jude stays quiet. Connor and Jude trust one another, and Jude would not ever lie to Connor. He would never promise him something he might not be able to keep. So he keeps his mouth shut.

Although this shove saved Jude's life, he still hated it. He hated it more than any of the others. Because now, it could take Connor's.

"Connor, why'd you do that? You know I hate being shoved," Jude begins, tears falling onto Connors thick sweater, a cheeky smile spread on both of their faces for half a second before Connor winces in pain. Their hands grip much more tightly, and Daria suddenly becomes more suspicious, as though she finally notices fact that Connor's eyes have yet to leave Jude, and have never found hers. "Next time, I'll take the bullet. I promise."

Jude watches as the paramedics arrive, quickly attaching Connor onto the stretcher and wheeling him away.

Finally, a promise Jude can be sure to keep.

They insisted on having Jude at the hospital. They needed him checked for shock, and had now just finished investigating him. Jude answered with quick, undetailed answers. There was no way the boy could think straight, not with the possibility that Connor could die at any second, the wound releasing too much blood.

Jude sat on the chair of the waiting room in patience, waiting until his family would arrive, like the nurse told him they would. Suddenly, Jude turns his head and finds two familiar faces, rushing towards him much too quickly.

"Jude!" The alarmed voice sounded too much like Connor's, and Jude practically jumped away from Stef when she wrapped him into a tight embrace, her fingers tracing his face, as though looking for any type of mark.

But the only type of mark Jude had gotten from the incident was blood on his hands from when Connor had held them before. But of course, they had made him wash away the sticky blood only moments after his arrival.

Lena joined the hug as well, her fingers running through Jude's hair softly and comfortingly, causing him to let out a sigh. Unfortunately, the sigh had not helped him relieve any type of stress what so ever. "Oh baby!" Lena cooed, slightly backing away from the embrace to look at him, but still keeping the boy in her arms.

"Why were you at that house? What were you thinking, love?" Stef asked worriedly, running her hand n circled motions on Jude's back.

Jude shrugged. "It was Daria's idea," Jude admit shyly, watching as his moms shared a quick glace before returning their gaze towards him. "I swear I didn't want to go. But… I did. And I don't know why." Jude looked down at floor uncertain of what else to say and how else to react.

He felt like he couldn't cry. As though his body and his system couldn't tolerate it. Like there was a wall separating him from the overflowing river of tears awaiting to be shed eventually. "We're just so happy you're alright, honey."

Lena's word echoed throughout his brain, because maybe he was alright, but Connor wasn't. "Connor got shot!" Jude busted out, looking back and forth towards his moms quickly.

Stef and Lena shared another look, this one much softer and filled with complete sympathy. "He got shot!" Jude repeated, clenching his fists in anger. Quickly, both women let him sink back into their embrace, murmuring useless words of comfort to him.

"Oh Jude," Stef whispered to him warmly. "Let's go home baby, you had a big night. We'll talk about your consequence later, alright?" Jude stepped away from them in shock, not wanting to leave.

"But… Connor's here," he reminded them.

"So are his parents. He'll be fine, sweetheart, but for now we have to go home and get some rest," Lena explained, walking towards him once more, wrapping an arm around his tense shoulders. "And Connor needs some rest too for him to be alright."

"But… Connor," Jude repeats, almost sounding defeated. Clearly he was exhausted, and still in shock. Jude needed to go home, even if he wished he could stay and sleep in Connor's room until he would be alright again.

"C'mon, baby," Stef begins, wrapping her arm around his shoulders as well, her arm overlapping Lena's. "Your siblings want to see you."

"Hey bud." Brandon greeted him first, patting his back in what would be a comforting motion. But Jude feels no comfort what so ever. Not from his moms, not and from Brandon. Not from anyone. "Are you doing okay?"

His answer was interrupted by Mariana, who embraced him in a hug tightly, speaking so quickly he could barely understand her. And then Jesus.

And suddenly everything became a blur. He couldn't pay attention to anything, yet everything at once. All he heard was a chorus of "are you okay's" and soft words of comfort.

And then he hears Callie. "What were you thinking?" Oddly enough, he can hear her very well. The clarity of her voice boomed throughout his ears and Jude didn't reply. All he could hear was the ringing of the gun shot and Connor pushing him away.

"This was by far the stupidest thing you've ever done!" She exclaimed, yet Jude just stood and watched her, only now fully paying attention. Suddenly the anger dissipated from her face the rage was replaced by softness.

"On TV they said someone got shot," she explains softly. "We were so afraid. We thought it was you." Mariana, Brandon and Jesus all nodded in agreement, sadness and fear evident upon their faces.

Callie wrapped Jude up in a hug, holding on tightly. "Don't you ever do that again." But all Jude thought about was Connor. How Connor saved his life. Suddenly, the tears begin to fall freely and quickly as he buries his head further into Callie's shirt.

"Who got shot, Jude?" Jesus asks cautiously, almost afraid to ask the question as though it would be too much to handle.

Jude could barely choke out the words.

"Connor."

Hope you all enjoyed! Tell me how you liked the first part! Also, who do you think is going to be shot on Monday?

I honestly think its Jude, but I'm not sure. I think it's either Jude or Connor or they're totally leading us off.

Thanks for reading guys!