Chapter 15: The Fight-or-Flight Response

Please pick up. Please pick up. It was all Stef could hope as she drummed her fingers on the dashboard. So far, her efforts to reach Lena at school had been unsuccessful, going only as far as voicemail, and her impatience was growing. Every minute she spent on the phone was a minute wasted not looking for Callie.

"Thank goodness," she exhaled when the call finally connected.

"Hi honey," Lena said cheerfully. "I was just about to call. How did it go?"

Hearing the hopefulness in her voice, Stef sighed at having to be the bearer of disappointing news. She couldn't help but to berate herself. All she needed to do was to take their daughter to and from the appointment and somehow she had managed to fail at that, too.

"Callie didn't try to get a hold of you, did she?"

"Hold on. Let me check." There was rustling on the other end of the line as Lena rifled through her purse contents to retrieve the phone to check the display. "No. Should she have? I have missed calls from you and a voicemail from Bill."

"Wait—Bill called? When?" Stef asked urgently.

"Nine thirty. I've been in meetings all day so missed it. Why?"

"Oh thank god," Stef breathed. If Bill had called earlier in the day she knew it was unrelated to Callie running away. They were relatively safe—for now, anyway.

"Honey, what's going on? You're really starting to worry me," Lena asked, beginning to feel unsettled by her wife's questioning.

Stef took in another deep breath as she tapped her foot restlessly on the brake, prepared to accelerate through the light though it had only just turned red. "We have a bit of a situation. It seems that Callie left the office while I was wrapping up with Gisella in the parent debrief. When I came out half an hour later she was gone."

"Wait, what? What do you mean she was gone?"

The cop cleared her throat, forgiving the rhetorical question. "Is there any way you can block the rest of your day off? I need you to go home as soon as you can, in case Callie makes her way back there on her own. Mike's on his way now to give me a hand. Hoping that between two cars we can search the surrounding area quicker…she couldn't have made it far on foot," she said, relaying the directives off matter-of-factly. In spite of her own rising panic, now was not the time to get emotional she reminded herself.

"Call my mother. Tell her to pick up the rest of the kids and to keep them for the night, just in case…" This time, Stef was unable to finish saying what she was thinking, too afraid to address the elephant in the room.

She didn't have to. Though left unspoken, Lena was very well aware that depending on who found Callie first, things had the potential to escalate very quickly. Ideally, they would be able to locate her first and bring her home where they would discipline her appropriately. They would keep her on an even shorter leash and that would be that. It was the other scenario that neither of them were able to openly admit to: law enforcement getting to Callie first and remanding her back to youth custody.

Running away was an automatic violation of the teen's probation. Although theoretically possible to plead for leniency and have her released back into their care, it wouldn't be easy to have it successfully granted for Callie. Given her history of repeatedly running away while entrenched in foster care, she had been labeled a flight risk. On top of that, there were the recent issues of truancy and her suspension from school—neither of which would be looked upon favourably.

The teen had also managed to break her probation in other ways—stealing and being in possession of marijuana—but somehow, through sheer luck, they had flown under the radar. Each time, Stef and Lena felt grateful to have been able to deal with it at home as a family, which was preferable to Bill or the Probation Officer getting involved.

Even that day Stef had searched Callie's backpack and confiscated her stash, she had never considered the behaviour as being anything other than a routine domestic matter. For Stef, her first and only duty to Callie—as with all her children—was to be a parent. She was a kid who made a poor choice, not a juvenile delinquent who deserved to be written up. So she had simply taken the items away and thrown them into a far corner of her and Lena's bedroom closet until she could go through and properly dispose of it at a later time.

The women's rationale was that they strongly believed Callie was in need of two things: the security of a stable home and unconditional love. Not to be back in the clutches of systems that had been responsible for so much of her and Jude's trauma in the first place. They had been certain of it from day one. It had been the reason why they had petitioned for adoption so quickly—they felt that the kids, being so young and having gone through so much adversity, deserved a fighting chance.

However, as Callie's behaviour deteriorated and with probation to contend with, the pressure to try to keep Callie on the straight and narrow had become overwhelming. It felt like they had barely gotten by this past month.

It was Lena who finally broke the silence, rescuing the both of them from their thoughts. "I'll hold off on returning Bill's call until all of this gets sorted."

As much as Callie was relieved to have finally managed to calm herself down, that feeling was being gradually pushed away in favour of increasing dread. Her feet ached and she was hungry, given the only thing she had had all day was an Eggo waffle and some juice. Judging by how busy the roads were as she had aimlessly wandered, she guessed it would be late afternoon at least, possibly after school. By now, Lena would have made it home, Jude close behind setting his homework on the counter, and the remainder of the kids floating between respective after school activities.

Tears began to prick the girl's eyes and nose as she realized she had no idea where she was and that the only reasonable option she had would be to retrace her steps until she got back to the office or until she found a store that would let her use a phone to call Stef or Lena. She didn't have any money with her to catch a bus or to use a payphone. Not that either of those were an option; it was the shipyard where there was not a person or shop in sight.

But at the same time, Callie didn't want to face them. Her stomach twisted as she thought bitterly of everything that had happened in the past week…how she had been suspended and subsequently how much trouble she had gotten in with Stef and Lena for fighting with them.

How could she have messed up again? It was as if she had blinders on, never seeing the bad decisions for what they were, the repercussions conveniently invisible in her peripheral vision. Until, that is, it was too late and she was knee-deep in the quagmire—with no plausible way to undo her steps and avoid the consequences.

She couldn't help but to ruminate on her deepest fears about how much Stef and Lena would tolerate before getting fed up and stopping their adoption. How today could very well be the last straw and she could be packing her and Jude's stuff under their watch to make sure they wouldn't take anything that didn't belong to them. The telltale look of confusion and disappointment that would appear without fail on Jude's face as he accepted they would have to start over again.

"Callie!" A man's voice shouting her name snapped the teen out of her thoughts as she whipped around to figure out who it was. "Callie!" Feeling a heavy hand clamp down on her shoulder, she recoiled before recognizing the person standing before her.

After steadying the girl by the shoulders, Mike took a step back and held up his palms to show he wasn't a threat. The cop did a quick visual scan for any obvious markings or any indications something was off and was immediately thankful when there were none he could make out.

"It's just me, Cal. Didn't mean to scare you," he spoke calmly, well aware that things could get tricky, fast.

Finding the youth had only been half the job—he still needed to somehow get her to come with him so he could bring her home. Callie hadn't had the best interactions with law enforcement and here he was—in uniform, badge on, gun and taser in holster, and with very limited experience working with young people. Precisely the reason why his ex-wife would routinely be the one to go after the youth they encountered on the job. Stef had a way with them: firm and commanding when she needed to be, but always apologetic for what they needed to do, which was typically to arrest them or to remove them from their home.

It wasn't looking good. The way Callie's eyes darted to scan her surroundings, looking for a possible escape route, worried him. At this point, Mike knew that his best option was to keep talking. "Stef's been looking all over for you. She and Lena are worried sick and just want to know that you're okay. We all do," he said, keeping his voice as steady and soft as possible. "I bet they'd really like hearing from you. Maybe you could page Stef in the car while I give you a lift back to the building. She should still be in the area so you can ride home with her."

"It's okay. I can walk back myself," she stammered, so quiet he could barely make out the words. Callie took a step back with her left foot, angling it as if to turn around and sprint when she froze, looking past him. "Never mind…Stef's here. I see her car now."

In the split second Mike lost focus, Callie took off like a bolt. Deep down, she knew she wouldn't be able to outrun him but she also didn't feel at all ready to go home. In fact, she was certain of it.

Shit. All that was running in his head was that if he lost Callie now, Stef would have his neck. It didn't take long before he caught up to her; Callie had run into a dead end on the dock and was frantically looking for a way out that didn't involve jumping into the water.

"I—I don't want to go back, Mike! Please don't make me go back!"

"Callie you don't mean that," he said sympathetically. "And even if you do, you know I gotta bring you home."

"Listen, I'm not going to arrest you. You're not in any trouble with me, if that makes you feel any better," the cop tried to persuade as he slowly walked towards her. "But I need you to come with me. I gotta get you home. C'mon now."

Making more of a statement rather than a request, Mike quickly placed one hand on her arm and the other on her waist. "I'm going to walk you, okay?" He didn't want that to happen again and didn't trust that Callie would cooperate especially given what she had just tried to pull.

This time, Callie was surprised to feel relief and acceptance as the decision was made for her. Legs like lead, she complied as Mike escorted her toward the cruiser. "Easy, watch your head there," he instructed, holding open the back door for her. Briefly, he had considered offering the front passenger seat but decided against it; he didn't have a way to lock that side and couldn't afford her running while stopped at a light. He would keep the window in the divider between the front and back seats open instead.

"C'mon kid, let's get you home."

Anxious and coming off the adrenaline from running around looking for her daughter, Stef was barely able to get her words out. "Mike just called," she reported. "Callie's with him and he's going to drive straight home. I'll meet you there."

A wave of relief washed over Lena. She too had been an absolute stress case over the last few hours ever since her wife had called and she had tried to take her mind off the news that Callie had gone missing by doing housework. But ultimately, she kept ending up looking out the window and up the block, hoping that any minute the teen would round the corner and come through the front door.

"Oh thank goodness. Where was she? Is she okay?"

"He picked her up about a half hour drive from the office. A lot further than we thought she would go on foot. Either Callie hopped on a bus or ran for quite a distance. Said she looks fine, no injuries that he could see or anything. Apparently our darling girl took him on a bit of a sprint," Stef chuckled sadly.

For now, the woman thought it appropriate to omit the part of the teen's exact whereabouts. Mostly because she was too afraid to acknowledge the thirteen-year-old had been likely wandering around alone in an industrial part of town for several hours.

"Wonder what Callie's thinking. I'm just so glad Mike found her."

"Me too, baby. Me too," the cop said breathlessly. "We're going to have to keep a really close eye on her, Lena. This cannot happen again. Especially if each session wraps up with a parent debrief, I'll need you or my Mom to come to the appointments so there's someone with Callie during that time. Assuming that we're even going to be able to get her to go back," she said in defeat.

"It's all my fault," she said before her wife could respond. "I—I let her down, Lena. She dragged her feet all morning and begged me not to go and I wouldn't budge. When it was time for me to leave the room for her one-on-one, she begged me not to go. She was not happy at all about it and—," Stef looked up, sucking in a breath as she blinked back tears. "—and honestly, Lena, I just upped and left without asking for accommodations. Told Callie she was doing fine and that I'd be right outside. Gisella—Dr. Wiseman was really good with her during the assessment and I figured it would be okay."

"Honey, it's not your fault—" her wife began to defend.

Stef cut her off. "You're not listening. I had a role in this," she insisted. "When it was time to switch, Callie came out into the waiting room and seemed…not upset, but pretty aloof. Her walls were up. I did ask her if she was okay but you know how it is with her—"

"Let me guess. She was 'fine'?"

"I should've questioned her. I should've known, Lena. My gut was telling me something was off…baby girl is an open book." The cop's voice broke as she struggled to acknowledge her culpability in the situation, remembering how maternal instinct immediately told her Callie had run away when she wasn't in the waiting room. She knew even before she went through the motions of checking the back offices, washroom, building lobby, and parking lot. Searching every possible place the girl could've been, her heart sank as she imagined the sheer panic, abandonment, and disappointment she felt must have been the same feelings evoked in Callie when she asked for her to stay and failed. Not once, but twice that day.

She recalled their last conversation, when something about the flat, emotionless tone coming from the teen unsettled her.

"You doing okay? Almost done?"

"Oh. Yeah. It's your turn. Gonna go to the bathroom," Callie said, not bothering to stop and avoiding eye contact as she walked past where the cop was sitting.

She put the magazine aside, doubting the teen's sincerity and concerned by how withdrawn the girl seemed. "Okay, love. It's down the hall. You just have to walk past the elevators and it'll be to your left."

"Kay."

"You want to wait for me in the car, honey? You can have my phone and listen to some music," she offered, as Callie continued to keep her eyes averted. Things must have gotten hard and she hoped the teen was alright. It wouldn't be too long now until they finished, she told herself. "Listen, if you promise not to drive off or kill my battery I'll give you the keys so you'll have the radio."

"It's fine," Callie said, looking up in surprise before her expression returned to being blank. "I'll wait for you here."

"Don't do this to yourself, honey," her wife interrupted, pulling her back to the present. "You may have suspected she wasn't feeling a hundred percent after therapy but there's no way you could've known she would take off the way she did. You were following the directions you were given. Honestly I would have done the same had it been me. You can't shoulder the responsibility for what happened," Lena emphasized, knowing how hard her wife was taking things.

"Come home, Stef. We'll figure all of this out. Okay? Drive safely. I love you."

"Love you too, babe. See you soon."

Author Note:

Any thoughts on why Callie doesn't want to go home?