Author's Note: Ahhhh midterms! Okay, that's all. I was going to wait 'til the Sox won to post again, but I'm sick of studying (at least for the next half hour), so here you go. Hope you like it! And thanks for your awesome reviews, I have the best followers! (And loving that some of you are Sox fans too...FEAR THE BEARD!)

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Stef:

It's done. The court date has been scheduled for the Wednesday two weeks from today. My guilt and nerves are already trying to strangle me, but I know what I said to Lena is true. Callie would have been in just as bad shape in three weeks as she will be in two. I can't see any other options.

I just don't know how I'm going to tell her.

She's back in her room now. Her fever is down to 100 degrees. She's awake, and talking to Lena. I peek in through the window and watch as they smile about something. It's such a beautiful moment that I don't want to break it, so I stay in the hall and start to text Mike.

The doors to the waiting room open down the hall, and I see a head of wavy blonde hair coming out.

It's Wyatt.

He sees me and starts walking down the hall to meet me, but I hold up my hand to stop him before he walks by the window in Callie's door. I don't want him to see her before she's ready.

Instead, I walk over to meet him

"Where's Callie?" Wyatt asks immediately. He looks nervous.

"She's okay. She's with Lena right now."

"Can I see her?"

I resist the urge to glance over my shoulder, knowing he'll follow my gaze to her door.

"Let's go talk for a minute first."

I guide him back to the waiting room, but there are people in there, so we head outside and find a little bench under some trees in the courtyard. He is genuinely worried about Callie, but there's too much I need to know from him before I let him talk to her.

"Wyatt, I need you to tell me everything that happened when Callie ran away."

Wyatt looks down, his blond hair sliding halfway in front of his face.

"She said she needed a ride to Indiana. I told her she should go home, but she said if I didn't give her a ride she'd just take a bus. I was afraid she might hitchhike. So I found her walking down the street and picked her up. I thought that—I thought she'd be safer with me."

Guilt is oozing out of him so strongly that part of me wants to put an arm around him.

"Did she say why she ran away?"

Wyatt won't meet my gaze.

"Wyatt, this is really, really important. If we know why she ran, it will help us keep Callie in our house."

Wyatt looks like he's swallowed something unpleasant. He still doesn't say anything. I take another stab at it.

"Did Callie say anything about us? Is she unhappy with any of us?"

"No, she's very happy with you," he says. I think he's telling the truth, but it's hard to tell. I try one more time.

"You really don't have any idea why she ran?"

Wyatt looks straight at me now, and the directness of his gaze takes me aback.

"Mrs. Foster, I like you guys. And Callie likes you guys. So please just trust me that it's better for you not to know."

I'm speechless. Part of me wants to keep asking him. Another part thinks he might be right.

"Can I please see Callie?" He asks me.

I clear my throat.

"I have to ask her."

Wyatt nods and I pull out my phone to text Lena.

Wyatt is here to see Callie. Does she want to? Should we let them?

I wait a second before Lena's reply comes up on my screen.

Yes and Yes.

I'm not so sure, but I trust Lena.

I beckon to Wyatt to follow me, and we head inside. Just before I open the door to her room he stops me.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly. "I thought I was doing the right thing."

"I know," I tell him. And I mean it.

He follows me into the room.

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Callie:

Lena helps me wash my face off and tame my hair a little before Wyatt and Stef come in. It's humiliating to know how disheveled and dirty I must look. I don't want to dress up for him, but I wish I didn't feel quite so gross. I probably don't smell that great either.

A stray droplet of water slides down my forehead and behind my ear as Wyatt walks over to me. I can see the worry in his eyes.

"Aren't you supposed to be in Indiana?" I say lightly, but he just shrugs. I mentally bite my tongue. It sounds like I'm mad at him for coming.

"Did you bring me any corn, at least?" I tease, trying to resume our old banter.

He glances over at Lena and Stef who are standing in the corner, their arms folded like bouncers at a club.

"Could we have a second?" He asks them.

They look at each other, then at me. I feel nerves creeping over me but I try to smile at them to show I'm okay with it. They leave, but I can tell they don't like it. It's a bad angle for me so it's hard to tell, but I think they're peeking at us through the window in the door.

I turn my attention back to Wyatt, who's standing stiffly by the end of the bed. He's taking in all of the machines and casts and bandages. I still haven't seen myself in a mirror, but I'm pretty sure I don't look all that great.

"So…what are you doing here? Did you come straight back?" I ask him.

He sits down in the chair Stef and Lena usually sit in.

"I had to keep going to Indiana so I could drop off the stuff for my mom. She had a job interview and she needed her clothes. But I came back as fast as I could."

My stomach rocks on a sea of guilt. He's been driving for four days straight.

"Callie, I'm so sorry," he says.

I don't want to hear it. I don't want to talk about it.

"I'm fine, Wyatt," I start to tell him, but the look on his face says he knows I'm full of bullshit.

"Please. Don't try that crap with me. I know you, Callie."

It's true. He's always been frighteningly good at seeing inside my head.

I drop the fake smile.

"You did everything you could for me," I tell him quietly.

He shakes his head, his blond hair spinning like an Herbal Essences commercial.

"I should have driven you back home. I would have, if it hadn't been for my mom's stupid interview."

He sounds really angry, and I start to get scared. I've seen Wyatt angry before, at his old house. He totally lost it. I can't deal with that right now.

"I don't blame you," I tell him honestly. It's true. Nothing that happened was his fault.

"I blame me!" He bursts out, and I flinch. He sees it and immediately backs down.

"God, Callie, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to yell."

The door opens and Lena sticks her head in.

"Everything all right in here?" She asks us.

My lips are trembling so I give her a thumbs up with my left hand. She goes back out and shuts the door.

I'm at a loss for words. I don't know how to comfort him.

"So…what job is your mom interviewing for?"

He looks surprised.

"Manager of a restaurant," he says, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile. "She's been a hostess for years, but this is her first management gig. She's really excited about it."

"That's great!" I tell him enthusiastically.

"Yeah. She's going to miss it here, but I think she's happy to see my grandparents."

"What about you?" I ask him.

He shrugs. "They're alright. But if I had a choice, I'd be staying here."

The room feels awkward again. Does he mean because of me?

"California has much better food," he adds, and I smile, relieved.

"Just a bunch of Applebee's up there?"

He rolls his eyes.

"About four on every block."

"Wait until you get a load of the food here," I tell him, "I've been eating saltines for two days."

He raises an eyebrow.

"Well, I think we could do something about that."

He picks up the little menu the on the nightstand. One of the nurses left it a long time ago. You can order stuff from the cafeteria and they'll bring it to you. I haven't done it yet because I haven't been eating a lot of real food.

"What's your pleasure, madam?" Wyatt asks, holding the menu out to me. "A penne pasta feast? A golden grilled cheese? Some gourmet tuna fish sandwiches?"

I grin and take the menu from him. It has some surprisingly unhealthy items for a hospital.

"I'm kind of supposed to be on lighter fare…" I start to tell him, but then my eye lights on an item that I know I have to have.

"That!" I point to it. Wyatt laughs.

"For real?"

"You've got a problem with it?" I ask archly.

He gives a mini bow.

"Of course not, my lady." He picks up the phone on the nightstand and dials the extension listed on the menu. He winks at me as he places the order. I can't help it. I'm beaming. This silliness is the best feeling in the world.

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