{a/n: this story was going somewhere.. but this was written before I knew about Mason, and after seeing those episodes I've realized, Charlotte turned in to the person I wanted to write her as on her own, my story felt invalid. So I tied in this one shot, written based on the song "Class A Team" by Ed Sherin, listen to it, read this, tell me what you think}
It ended up that no one could take Betsy, no one felt ready to handle her with full time custody, so the social worker took her away.
Addison Forbes-Montgomery (yes she never married) sat under a patio at a café on the pier one day during her lunch break. She walked past a girl, in her 20's that looked familiar, then she realized it was Betsy. Her face was pail and her lips were white, her eyeliner seemed smudgey and worn for a few days and her eyes were weary. She had on ¾ sweatpants that were black, a white shirt, ripped gloves and a raincoat. Her hair was in a pony tail and she was smoking a ciagarette even though she was soaking wet from the rain. She seemed to be going up to people asking for change and cash.
"Come on give it to me," She yelled to a man on the street.
"I said five dollars a gram," the homeless looking man said.
"That is so not a gram, that's like half, I just want a couple, god damn I'll go somewhere else." She walked around the corner and light her pipe. She felt like she was in the motherland, where she felt like nothing could hurt her. Addison decided to talk to her after finishing her coffee.
"Hey Betsy, It's Addison, remember me?"
"Yeah." Betsy just half looked at her as a man walked up behind her with a 20 dollar bill and a dirty look to him. "Give me 5 minutes," she looked back to Addison.
"Would you like to go out to dinner tonight with the practice, I'm sure they would love to see you?"
"No."
"Why not."
"I don't want to go outside tonight, It's too cold."
"Well here is my number call me if you need anything."
"Well I don't have a phone." Betsy walked towards the man with the twenty. She quickly got in his car. Addison felt bad, knowing if she had taken her in at a young age, she wouldn't be like this. Later that day she called the old social worker Betsy use to have.
"Yes, she's been like that since she was 18, that was the day she left the group home, she never did get adopted. She was always in and out at odd hours, high or drunk." The social worker said. Addison sighed. It was her fault. She went back to the practice.
"Betsy's on the class A team," She announced at their meeting.