But You Stood By My Side

WritingIsLoveAndLife

AN: I'm back with another chapter! I left the last chapter on somewhat of a cliffhanger, and my creative energy is very high at the moment, so I wanted to continue working on this story.

I have received two reviews on the previous chapter, since I posted it, so I'll go ahead and answer those now, before I let you get to your reading:

Sky High Fan: First and foremost, I want to thank you for not only reading, but also taking the time to review. I really do appreciate it! To answer your question: Alex Meyer is the player that Connor refused to draft even though he was the consensus number one pick in the draft, and Michael James Callahan is BC's former foster brother that he had a confrontation with earlier in the story. A while ago, I received a PM asking if I would ever consider bringing them back into the story, so I brainstormed ways I could do that, and what was written is what I chose to go with.

I hope that clears up any confusion on who they were! I hope you enjoy this chapter, and the rest of the story as a whole!

Shin-X 25: I'm glad you're happy about my return! I'll always return, regardless of how long I'm ever away but this hiatus was especially difficult because creatively, nothing was happening no matter how hard I tried, so I'm excited and relieved to finally be back!

I'm sure you'll eventually get over your writer's block. I know how frustrating it can be, but don't force it. Eventually, something will happen that will spark you creatively, and you'll be back to it like you never left! Just have patience!

I'll definitely be continuing, don't you worry! I'm glad you're excited to see more from me! Thanks, as always, for the review! I really appreciate it! I hope you enjoy this next chapter, and the remainder of the story as a whole!

Disclaimer: Peter Paige and Bradley Bredeweg created The Fosters. I claim no ownership of the series or its characters. I merely respect the series, and wish to pay tribute to it, while continuing to sharpen my writing skills. The only characters I claim ownership are my OC's: BC Adams-Foster-Stevens, Marina Reyes, Jan Stevens, Dean Williams, Mark Wells, Bob Olson, Mary Stevens, Theo Stevens, Ryan Clark, Zane Johnson, Hannah and Christian Davis, Michael James Callahan and Alex Meyer as well as any other OC's that I choose to introduce in future chapters.

Chapter 36

I'm talking to Zane when I first feel the cold, calloused, unfamiliar hand clamp down on my shoulder. I immediately tense up and rip my shoulder from the hold as I spin around to face this stranger… who turns out to be someone who's no stranger to me, at all…

The hand belongs to none other than my abusive ex-foster brother Michael Callahan. I immediately put some distance between us and grab Zane's hand in a vice grip, squeezing tightly.

"What the hell are you doing here?" I snap. "And on my birthday of all days? Why would you think it was even remotely okay to show up here? How did you even get my address?"

The party falls completely silent at my outburst. My breath comes in angry gasps and my features draw into a stone-cold glare. I can see fear begin to creep into Michael's eyes and if I wasn't so pissed off, I would be proud.

Zane, for his part doesn't flinch at my acidic tone, nor does he wince at my tight grip on his hand. I must be causing him to lose circulation but he only continues to squeeze back, as though to offer his silent support to me. His dark and mysterious aura works wonders at backing me up, even if I realize I still have so much more to learn about him, and an equal amount that I still have to tell him about me.

Resolving to deal with one issue at a time, I snap out of my internal monologue and address my former foster brother.

"I told you after our conversation at the restaurant that I never wanted to see you again, but since you're here, I think we'd all like an explanation. I wouldn't be surprised if your parents didn't teach you, but it is rude to just show up at a party that you certainly weren't invited to."

My father speaks out before Michael has a chance to respond. "It is curious that we would have two unexpected—and wholly unwelcome, may I add—guests at the same time. It wouldn't happen to be anything other than a coincidence, would it?"

"You'll never make me talk," a man I don't recognize says as my father guides him to stand where Michael is currently standing. The rest of the family wisely forms a circle around them, so that they have nowhere to run.

From the corner of my eye, I see Kieran, Jacob, Hannah and Christian enter the house and shut the patio door.

'Good,' I think to myself. 'They've seen enough of this as it is.'

My attention returns to the confrontation at hand. I feel both of my Dad's come up behind me, each placing a hand on my shoulder. I feel Zane finally remove his fingers from mine, and I look at him questioningly.

"Trust me," he says quietly, for only me to hear.

"I trust you," I confirm, and he takes that as all the permission he needs to approach the two in the middle of the circle.

"Listen," he growls. "You have two options: you either talk or I will make you talk. I will not have you ruin what's supposed to be a celebratory gathering with your vague, evasive bullshit."

"I'm in the military," Michael retorts.

"And I'm former athlete," the man I don't recognize adds, taking the briefest of moments to glare in disdain at my Dad. "What do you think you'll be able to do that would make both of us talk?"

Zane chuckles, a dark humorless sound that sounds foreign coming from his mouth. "You'd be surprised what one has the opportunity to learn when they basically raise themselves. I know a lot more than you would ever have had the chance to learn. What matters right now, is that I know BC doesn't want either of you here, and as someone who cares about him, even if I don't always show it or say it in the right ways, I will do everything that I can to ensure that your very rude disruption does not interfere with his happiness, especially today. So you will talk, and everyone assembled here will listen. And then you'll go, and we'll get back to celebrating. Understood?"

Zane, having finished saying his peace, returns to my side and laces his fingers with mine. I can read his face like a book, a myriad of emotions taking residence there currently. I see a degree of fear, hope and vulnerability in equal measure. Beneath it all however, there's a hint of tremendous satisfaction and his usual bravado.

Having realized that he was more open and honest than he has probably ever been, I squeeze his hand and whisper a quiet, "Thank you," for his ears only.

He only nods, acknowledging my thanks. His eyes are focused forward, but if I look closely, I'm able to see the heated red hue of a blush.

I focus my own eyes forward and see them hemming and hawing, not really wanting to speak, but failing to find any useful diversion.

"My mother is a cop," my father tells the two of them. "We could easily have already called 911, but given how she's here— and fully equipped to do her job, might I add—I think it would save you a lot of trouble if you just did as Zane suggested and tell us what we want to know."

Grandma Stef steps forward, flashing her badge and handcuffs. It serves as all the incentive they need.

"We were told to come here…" Michael admits, growling at his confession.

"I figured as much," my Dad says. "By who?"

They look towards each other, as if to have a silent conversation but Daddy is having none of that. Having stayed silent throughout the entire exchange, and letting Dad take the lead, he finally reacts.

"MY HUSBAND ASKED YOU A QUESTION!" he yells. "WHO TOLD YOU TO COME HERE?"

"We only know his first name," Michael says, looking startled at my father's outburst.

"That's enough," Stef confirms. "What was the name of the person who told you to come here, and what exactly were you supposed to accomplish?"

The still-unidentified one remains defiantly silent, as he has throughout this entire debacle. It's Michael who finally spits out the name. "Jack," he tells us, and I can't help but gasp. He can't mean…

I hear both my fathers snarl. It's obvious that everyone's mind has simultaneously gone to the same place, even if Grandma Stef and Grandma Lena look as though they desperately want to believe it couldn't be possible.

"BC," my father asks me. "Would you mind if we temporarily suspended your party?"

I look up at him, startled to realize that he's pale as a ghost and shaking with barely controlled anger. If my Dad lets go of his hand, he'll probably lose it.

"Not at all," I assure him.

"All right, then," he nods. "Let's go!"

Thanks to Michael, and his cohort—whom I learn from my Dad is named Alex Meyer—we're able to quickly identify my "uncle" (and I merely use that term as a formality, I assure you) as the mastermind behind the two of them being at my party. He knows my birthday and he's undoubtedly crazy enough to think up some delusional scheme. What they told us about his plans makes us all the more certain that we are indeed dealing with the person we all wish we weren't.

A call to his asylum out of state tells us that he escaped some time ago. Needless to say the place has since improved security but that does nothing to comfort any of us.

"It's me he wants," my father says. "I'm the one he's always wanted. None of this would've happened if…"

"If what?" I cut in. "If you had only been able to love him the way he wanted you to? You can't think like that, Daddy."

"BC's right, babe," my Dad agrees. "You're not responsible for your brother's actions, and I'm not going to let you feel guilty for something you had no control over."

"But…" he attempts to argue. I cover his hand with my gently and look him right in the eye.

"No buts," I say firmly. "Do you understand? This is not, and never will be your fault. You gave Jack chances; you tried to help him as much as you could. You were the best brother that you could possibly be, even given the circumstances. You couldn't have done anything more. We'll get through this the same way we get through everything… as a family."

Once my monologue is over, I notice tears streaking down my father's face. "As a family," he nods.

"As a family," my Dad confirms. "Always."

A tense few weeks passes in the Adams-Foster-Stevens household. We go about our daily lives as normally as we can, but of course, we take precaution. The threat of Jack looms too large over our entire family for it to be ignored.

I'm in the kitchen making dinner with my father when I receive a call on my cell phone. A glimpse at the display reveals only that the call comes from an "Unknown Number."

I nudge my father, and see his eyes widen as he takes in the display for himself. "Answer it. Put in on speaker."

I do as requested. "Hello?"

"Long time no see, BC," the voice on the other line greets. I don't recognize the voice as Jack's, and look to my father curiously. He merely shrugs. We have no way of knowing if this is Jack or not. He could be distorting his voice, or it could be someone else entirely, another pawn in his twisted game.

"I wasn't aware I'd met you before," I tell them. "But if I have, it hasn't been long enough."

"Don't get smart," the voice warns. "You have met me, I made sure to leave quite the impression last time."

I still have nightmares sometimes about the "last time." Jack definitely did make an impression, for lack of better words.

Right now though, I desperately need to find a way to figure out if he's the one I'm speaking with.

I rack my brain for something only he would react to, or know. "It's been about 2 years, hasn't it?" I question.

"So, you do remember!" the voice replies.

"You always do have a way of showing up on the most important days of my life. With all that effort, I don't know how I could ever have forgotten."

"Excellent!" I can hear the voice beaming on the other end of the line. I'm almost certain it's him. Glancing at my father, I can tell he knows it too.

"Only, this time, you had two other people do it for you, didn't you?" I ask.

When I get no reply, I press forward.

"Isn't that right, Uncle Jack?" Calling him "Uncle" sickens me to the core, because that title is reserved for Uncle Jesus, Uncle Brandon and Uncle Theo, but it's the only way to know for sure.

Judging by the way that the dial tone quickly fills my ears, I'd say I was correct in my assumption.

"I'm 100 percent sure that was him," I tell my father.

"I'll call your Grandma," he nods, before getting an intense, almost feral look in his eyes. "One way or another, this ends now."

AN #2: So, there we have it! There was a lot going on in this chapter, but I hope you were all able to enjoy it. I'd love to hear your thoughts! I hope the reader who requested I bring Michael and Alex back liked how I did it. Next chapter promises to be action-packed, and somewhat emotional, so it should be a good one!

Until next time,

WritingIsLoveAndLife