Author Note:
Hi everyone, sorry for the delay, I know some of you've been waiting. This chapter was not cooperating at all and it took me awhile to figure out why some parts were reading so awkwardly. Hopefully the longer chapter somewhat makes up for it. Rest assured, I won't abandon the story—it's my baby! We're about halfway in; I plan to start delving into some trauma and Jude will begin to have a slow entrance.
Thanks to allycallie for the specific regulation code. I would have never gotten it down to that level of detail. Also to Lacorra for helping me conceptualize Lena the Meana.
Hope you guys like it, ~b'shert
Chapter 21: A Startling Rift
Having finally convinced Stef to leave, Lena spent another hour comforting and wiping away her daughter's tears. Under the influence, Callie was emotionally disinhibited and hadn't wanted to let go of her. Hoping that her presence might allay some of her doubts and fears, Lena remained in place long after the girl's breathing had settled into a slower, regular rhythm.
She was thankful when Callie began to nod off in her arms. The weight of the slight frame hanging from her neck had become unbearable and she was desperate to get off the floor for some relief. Although she wasn't so keen on the early bedtime, she also wasn't entirely comfortable forcing Callie to stay up and sit through dinner when she could see just how physically and emotionally drained she was. Especially not after see how the girl had reacted to being near Stef.
"C'mon, my groggy girl. Don't crash now," Lena said softly when Callie yawned and slumped against her. "I don't want you to wake up in the middle of the night and have trouble falling back asleep. That's not great for your body." She let out an audible groan as she repositioned her legs and the circulation returned as pins and needles.
"Tell you what, lets get you into the shower and see if that helps. We'll reevaluate after," she proposed, kissing the top of the girl's mop head repeatedly to try and rouse her. She figured that she would be tucking her into bed afterwards, anyway, given how quickly she was fading. The only reason she didn't want to cave now was to buy some time to hopefully reduce the disruption on Callie's routine.
Try as she might, Lena couldn't understand why getting Callie into the bathroom was posing such a challenge. The girl, who she held close to her side walking down the hall, grew increasingly tense and tried to pull away—as if a switch had flipped when she recognized where they were heading. Just as they were about to step across the threshold, Callie grabbed the wall, stopping their movement.
"It's alright, take your time," Lena coaxed as the girl tried to catch her breath. She was now more confused than ever; Stef had told her about kiboshing Callie's stalling in the bathroom that morning but there had been nothing about it that sounded out of the ordinary. "I'm just going to wash your face and run the shower for you," she said, hoping that an explanation might help. Eventually, Callie let go, allowing herself to be steered toward the edge of the tub.
Noticing the bare towel racks, Lena sighed; she had put all of the towels in the laundry earlier and she could only hope Callie wouldn't react poorly to being left alone for a moment. "Sit right here, honey. Promise I'll be right back."
Callie was wearing a slightly worried expression when her foster mother returned with fresh towels that were still toasty from the dryer. The linen closet was adjacent to the ensuite and she knew that Lena would've needed to walk through the master bedroom to get there and back. She searched the woman's face cautiously, trying to gauge if she was mad before she averted her gaze.
Lena felt a pang of sympathy as she took in Callie's crestfallen demeanour and fidgeting. Wanting to give space, she took her time hanging up the towels and stacking the clean set of underwear and pyjamas onto the counter. She set the wooden stool in front of Callie and retrieved a basin from under the sink, filling it with warm water.
"It's just stuff," Lena reassured, giving the girl a knowing smile as she sat down. She soaked a new washcloth, wringing it out a few times before starting to wipe her daughter's face. She was certain that Callie's unease was tied to the state in which she had found the intimate space she shared with her wife but right now, her focus was on making sure Callie was okay. The other concerns would have to wait.
"Stuff is easy to clean up." She was careful to dab the areas around Callie's eyes and cheekbones, where the skin was chapped from the prolonged moisture.
"Hey…hush now. No more tears…" Lena soothed as Callie's chin began to tremble. She thumbed a few stray tears away, grateful when the girl didn't flinch from her hand.
"I know you're scared," she said gently. "And that you're probably a little worried, too." Callie's eyes flickered up to meet her's before falling. Had it not been for the unfortunate circumstances they found themselves in, Lena was sure she would've laughed; there had been a hint of attitude behind the look Callie had given her. The one all her kids had given her at one point or another and still did. How come you have to be such a therapist?
Lena continued, knowing she had her daughter's undivided attention. "But you have to remember that we are not sending you away. That's not something you need to be worried about, alright?" Her heart ached at Callie's obvious disbelief. "You are wanted. Don't you forget that. I'm going to tell you as much as you need to hear it, sweetheart," she said as she stroked Callie's cheek with her thumb, wishing for anything to be able to free the girl of her doubts.
"You are part of this family," Lena emphasized. She groaned loudly as she got up from the stool to join Callie on the edge of the tub. "Somehow, you have to trust that things will get figured out—no matter how hard or hopeless things may seem. No matter what it takes or how long, we will figure it out together as a family."
"Okay," Callie whispered, giving a nearly imperceptible nod.
Lena made quick work of gathering the girl's messy hair into a bun. She cringed as she thought of the rat's nest it would be tomorrow morning but combing it out now was not a challenge she felt confident taking on.
"Leave this up. I don't want you falling asleep with wet hair," Lena said, fussing with the placement of the topknot. "Mom or I will help you wash it tomorrow." As she had ran her fingers through the bushy mophead, she found sections that were stiff and clumped, signs that the soap hadn't been fully flushed out. "Otherwise you're going to start attracting all sorts of friendly and not-so-friendly nectar-loving friends. But knowing my sweet girl, it'll probably be mostly honeybees," she teased, finally managing to elicit a smirk from Callie.
The overwhelming smell of berry smoothie shampoo and marijuana was an oxymoronic coupling. An illustration of the worrisome nature of choices being made by someone who was at an age where they weren't yet capable of washing their own hair properly.
"Is your heart still racing?" Lena asked as Callie shook her head. No.
"Okay." She was starting to wonder how often and when these episodes were happening. As far as she knew, they usually only occurred at night. A consistent routine had been built around them as a result. In the panicked aftermath of a nightmare, Stef would sleep with Callie in the single while Mariana came into the queen bed.
"I need you to let Mom or I know if you start feeling like that again. It's really important so we can try to prevent it from getting worse," she explained. It was unclear how long the girl had been left by herself before Stef had interrupted her phone call, but the thought of Callie fighting the discomfort of panic alone saddened her.
A nod. Affirmative.
"There were some pretty significant things that happened today, sweetheart. I promise you that we are definitely going to make it a priority to revisit all of these events," she said as Callie glanced at her cautiously. "For now it's probably best if we all take a bit of a breather and wait until we're all in a better headspace, though."
"I just wish that you had come to us before it got to a point where you got so stressed out that you needed to smoke," Lena said. There was no harshness or judgment behind her guess as to what had taken place. In her heart of heart's, she believed that there was always a reason behind every decision and she was determined to find out what was behind Callie's choices.
She pulled her daughter into her side and placed a firm kiss onto her forehead. "We will work on this. We are going to have to start communicating more with each other, Cal."
"Yeah," Callie agreed plaintively. She felt her cheeks burn with embarrassment at the reminder of what she had done.
Reaching around to fiddle with the taps, Lena tested the temperature of the water to make sure it wasn't too hot before engaging the shower. "I'm going to help you. Would that be alright?" Getting another timid nod, she moved back onto the stool so she could unhook the front clasps of Callie's overalls and unbutton the pairs at waist-level.
She was definitely coddling her daughter but couldn't help it. Having long suspected that Callie and Jude were used to meals, assistance, or attention of any kind being withheld as punishment, Lena wanted to make it clear that that wasn't the case in their home. She and Stef recognized a refusal to meet basic needs as a form of emotional abuse; however, she wasn't so sure that the kids did. Not with the way Jude still feared he wouldn't be fed even after the gentlest of redirection and how Callie was surprised to get lunch after lashing out at her over the loss of her guitar.
"Alright, you Bug. Into the shower with you," Lena declared, patting her on the knee before standing up. She unfolded the largest towel and held it out horizontally, looking away so Callie could undress and step into the tub. Though a little wary about giving the girl her privacy while so heavily fatigued, she left once she had picked up the laundry from the floor.
Her daughter's drowsy form soon stumbled into the bedroom. Lena suppressed a smile and shook her head sadly to herself as Callie piled the towels onto her desk; five minutes was a questionable amount of time to go through a complete shower routine. They'd have to keep working on that.
Hygiene had been an ongoing battle with the two siblings. A textbook example of children who had been abused trying to claw back control the only way they knew how. Jude actively resisted showers, holding the bar of soap under running water knowing that they would check if it was wet. They'd only figured it out when once he emerged from the bathroom, his hair and body completely dry but the soap suspiciously soggy. Things improved significantly once they figured out that the noise frightened him and switched him to baths, cajoling him with bubbles and allowing him to bathe every other day. All that was needed now was for one of them to sit in the bathroom with a timer to confine him in the tub for a good period and keep a lid on any funny business.
Callie was better at getting into the shower but was rarely thorough. After noticing that she would come out with suds still on her body, they started giving step-by-step directions from outside the door. Gradually, they decreased the cuing and finally allowed Callie to shower alone once she could go through the routine without any instructions three days in a row. Periodic checks were still required though, and they would step in whenever her feet got too dirty with soap scum and her hair too crusty.
"No worries. There's a towel down," Lena said. She laughed softly and gestured to the pillow. The girl had given her a discouraged look when she had been told that the hair to halfway up the back of her head was sopping wet.
She tucked Callie in before sitting down on the bed. That the young girl was starting to drift off at this hour showed Lena just how long the day had been.
Despite her mischief and insolent manner at times, it was easy for to see Callie as a vulnerable child who had been given the short end of the stick but was doing well in so many other ways. It was a tough road—trying to address the trauma she had been through, while correcting the behaviours borne out of it.
"Lovebug…" She stroked her daughter's hair lovingly as she rested her other hand on top of Callie's. "Mom and I both love you so much—more than you'll ever now. I know that sometimes it's hard to believe but I need you to try. Whenever you have any doubts, I want you to think about challenging yourself to come to one of us so we can talk about it." The girl's trust in their bond, no matter how shaky, was probably the most important thing in helping all of them through this. She needed to start reinforcing that message.
Callie nodded. "'kay," she whispered, not knowing what else to say as the woman pulled the comforter up around her shoulders. "Thanks."
"You don't have to thank me for doing my job, Cal."
She heard the small voice filter from behind the door when she had nearly pulled it closed all the way. "Love you, too, Lena."
It'd been all but three words, but the very first time Callie had ever reciprocated with a declaration of her own. A lump formed in her throat, daring her to choke up.
She swallowed, barely managing to respond. "Goodnight, sweetheart."
"She's gone to bed," Lena said, glaring accusingly at her wife. She found herself even more irritated by the consternation on Stef's face when she looked past her with the expectation that Callie might appear. As if their daughter would be alright soon after Stef had turned on her.
"This early? She hasn't really had anything for dinner." The cop frowned, disappointed she wouldn't see Callie the rest of the evening. Though she had thought as much, she had set the table for three, remembering how the girl had turned down her offer to go out for an early dinner after the appointment. "Lena likes it when we all eat together." With guilt, she realized how upset Callie must've been if she was hiding.
"Eating is the last thing on her mind right now," Lena said with a distinct edge to her voice. She stormed over to the sink which was filled with dishes; there was no way she could tolerate being in close vicinity to Stef right now. Not when she herself felt betrayed, too.
"How is she doing?" Stef asked quietly after several minutes had gone by, not trusting herself to say anything before then.
"You were there. You know how she's doing," Lena bit back.
Stef sighed. She was exhausted from practically wrangling Callie all day and wasn't sure she had enough energy left for another argument. But she had also been down this road enough times before that she knew there was no avoiding this. And by this she meant the version of Lena Adams Foster when she was an angry mother looking for a bone to pick.
"Love… please don't do this…not now."
Her wife ignored her, continuing to wash the dishes loudly. When the last plate was placed in the rack, she slammed the faucet shut and threw the sponge into the sink.
"What do you want me to say? That our daughter eventually cried herself out and that at one point she was dry heaving because she was crying so hard? Or that she refused to let go of me for the better part of an hour? I'm pretty sure she's afraid of me as well!" she snapped, incredulous that Stef had the gall to ask.
"What do you think this is going to do to Callie's sense of self worth?" Lena said impatiently, even more put off at seeing her wife's dismay. "Tell me that you did not really jeopardize Callie's trust and sense of safety and self-esteem over a messy room and some pot! Do you recognize how ridiculous that sounds?"
After tucking Callie in, she had started picking up and restoring order to their belongings. Between the items scattered over the floor and the state of the dresser and closet, it hadn't been hard to put two and two together.
Lena blinked furiously, feeling herself close to tears. At this point, her foul mood was not only exacerbated by the situation but by sheer exhaustion. "What were you thinking?" she demanded.
From where she was sitting at the table, Stef looked down and gave her head a shake, both frustrated and discouraged by how little her wife thought of her. When had they started working against each other, rather than together? Lately it felt as though all she did was defend her position when she was the one struggling with Callie. The nagging from Lena especially was not helping in any way but to add to her resentment and she was tired of it.
"I was thinking that it was disrespectful to us for her to act in total disregard of our rules again," the cop began, struggling to keep an even tone. "That we've read her the riot act so—many—times this week yet it hasn't seemed to phase her in any way or motivate her to settle down. I was thinking that some of her actions were illegal and that she was reckless not just with her health but her safety! I was—am so frustrated—"
"You should have walked away and come get me if you thought you were going to lose your temper on her. You know why? Because we promised them! We've been telling Jude and Callie that they're safe here, that we don't believe in hitting. Have you forgotten already that it took almost two months before they stopped jumping at every noise or if we moved too quickly toward them? These kids are traumatized from having been abused—"
"—For heaven's sake, Lena, I didn't beat her black and blue. It was a spanking, if you can even call it that," the cop argued, well aware that a part of her was trying to convince herself that she had been justified. "I gave an explanation and swatted her with an open hand—it was intended to be a correction, not in any way a replication of the abuse she's been through. Yes, I was angry—and still am. But do not accuse me of taking it out on her!" She couldn't help but get her back up as Lena glared at her with a mix of derision and disbelief. "You cannot honestly tell me that how I disciplined falls into the same category."
"DON'T! Don't you argue semantics over this!" Lena hissed, furious that her wife had the gall to defend herself. "Spanking is hitting. It doesn't matter what your intentions were behind it. CALLIE doesn't understand the difference. No!" Stef had just opened her mouth to undoubtedly argue again and Lena wasn't going to have any of it. "She doesn't! If she did, let me tell you she would have reacted very differently than what I saw upstairs."
"She wouldn't have been that upset or scared," she added quietly, knowing that hearing it out loud would hurt Stef's feelings and magnify her guilt.
"Our role is to be patient. To help Callie understand why some choices are better than others so she can eventually make good ones for herself that are based on internal motivation, not because she's afraid of us or anyone else."
Stef scoffed loudly. "You're kidding me, right? Our daughter definitely understands right from wrong—that's not the problem. It isn't for lack of understanding that she's beyond deliberately disobedient."
Lena straightened, aggravated that her wife continued to defend herself on an issue she felt strongly about—one that they used to be on the same page about. "It doesn't matter. What you did is damaging. It boils down to using your authority over her to break her spirit more than it already is." Her voice cracked and she struggled to regain composure. "It's using intimidation to cow her into obedience. And that undermines all the work we've been doing to nurture trust and attachment. How do you not get that?"
"You don't think I get that I broke her trust and hurt her feelings? You think I liked what I felt I had to do in that moment? It fucking sucked, alright? It sucks that your kid is terrified of you that she doesn't want you to come near you, that she probably won't want anything to do with me again! It sucks that she can barely look at me!" Stef shouted, beginning to cry at the memory of Callie quailing from her after being struck.
"She is barely thirteen years old. She's a CHILD who thinks she can get away with running her own show because that's what she's been forced to do for years. She needs structure and consistency so she can learn that she's accountable to us and accept that our rules need to be followed because that's in her best interest. That there are some things that are completely off limits."
"—How was our daughter so reckless and wilful as you described that you thought you had no choice but to spank her? Explain it to me." The demand was harsh and unforgiving.
The cop took a deep breath, trying to force the waver from her words—she had no idea how she would be able to go over the events that lead to her losing her patience when it felt as though she hadn't processed it thoroughly.
"The alarm on the safe went off after I took the joint from Callie," Stef said, skipping over the part where their sweet child had blown smoke in her face. The tears sprung back easily as if letting her know that she was still rattled enough by the violation of safety.
"Somehow, she managed to figure out the code and unlocked it. Yeah. She went there." Her tone was unfortunate, almost sympathetic, as Lena's eyes widened and her expression changed into one of incredulity.
"At that point, I had no choice but to search her to make sure she didn't have a weapon on her. And the whole time I just…I kept hoping that she would listen and follow my directions," Stef explained. She remembered how overwhelming the thought of Callie refusing to cooperate was—which would have essentially twisted her arm into calling for backup and using more forceful methods to find out. Or if Callie did do what she was told and a gun or taser was discovered. Both scenarios would have lead to her arrest.
"I was so relieved when she was clear. But then I freaked out! I freaked out, okay? My mind was everywhere…I kept thinking of how she could've gotten hurt and wondering if she was angry with us and wanted to scare us, or was just curious. Or if Jude or Mr. Impulsivity were home and became curious and got hurt too!"
Tears dripped down Stef's face and chin as she articulated exactly what her thought process had been as things had threatened to fall apart. With a sense of guilt, she considered for the first time what it might've been like for the young girl who hadn't had such positive interactions with the police in the past.
"I'm sorry but that's pretty reckless in my books. I needed Callie to learn from it so she wouldn't do something like that again," she explained.
"I want her to get to a place where she makes good choices out of her own volition, too. Not because she's trying to avoid external factors," Stef said hoarsely. In the moment she had been convinced that Callie's short-sightedness and impulsivity called for consequences that were just as immediate and were better suited at sending a direct message. If she was being honest with herself, a part of her still felt that way.
"I don't know, Lena. At what point do short-term needs outweigh the long-term goals? We need her to abide by the rules right now. Insight and motivation both need time to establish, they're bound to come after."
Seeing her wife so visibly shaken, Lena believed her. The punishment hadn't been without reason; however, she still believed that Stef's attempt to teach a lesson had been wrong. "You can't pin this on Callie. She's counting on us to be the adults. You didn't have a choice about searching her, I understand that, but you did have one about what to do after that," she said. She shook her head sadly at what she had learned about their daughter's behaviour. The kerfuffle she had heard when she'd been on the phone made so much more sense now. The shouting. The short period of silence followed by Stef's raised voice and Callie's wails of protest. Then, nothing.
"She's just started to trust us and now it's going to be very hard to get back to where we were, especially if she feels as though her safety has been jeopardized. We're supposed to be showing her that our love is unconditional and that she is safe to make mistakes in our home. Hitting was never the answer, Stef. No child—no one—deserves that, and Callie most of all didn't deserve that."
"Then what—what do you think our daughter deserved, Lena? Tell me what I should have done instead, what the right answer was, because I'm all ears. You're always the first to jump down my throat. Should I have extended her essay about the risks of smoking pot at such a young age? Or assigned her a new one about why gun safes need to remain locked and off limits to everyone but the rightful owner? What?" she demanded, the anger clear in her voice. Her impatience was hitting a boiling point.
"I—I only have so much skill and patience, Lena!"
"So you decided to hit her because you couldn't think of anything better to do?"
"No, because we've tried everything else that's better to do!" Stef hated that she was having to defend herself as she got increasingly worked up. Her heart ached enough with how everything had ended without having her wife laying it on too.
"You should have left her and come get me."
"Trust me I wanted to!" the cop snapped. "I wanted to!" she yelled, momentarily forgetting that Callie was asleep. "Yes I made a mistake by not calming down and talking with you first but you cannot deny that this kid needs a bit of a wake up call to smarten up. Every single consequence we've given her equates to a slap on the wrist. It does nothing to deter her. You heard the way she spouted off at me! She has also lied to us, gotten herself a suspension, and is smoking and drinking. This is serious trouble she's getting into."
"She's not giving you a hard time, she's having a hard time!" Lena retorted.
"It doesn't mean she's above discipline!" Stef said in exasperation.
"Don't you dare put words in my mouth," Lena shot back dangerously. "I never said that—never!" For the life of her she could not understand why her wife was continuing to defend her position and she'd just about had it. "I'm just as desperate and at a loss over what to do, but you're the one who works law enforcement! You know that DSS prohibits foster parents from using any physical means of correction. It's in the California Code of Regulations. Title 22, Section 89372! The state can nullify our petition to adopt both Callie and Jude and there's a chance we could lose our license."
"You don't think I've thought of that? We risk losing custody of Callie, anyway, if we aren't able to get her on track," Stef said, frowning. "The running off, truancy, suspension, drugs, accessing a gun. All of these violate the conditions of her release and unfortunately, at least one of those is a misdemeanour."
It had been one of their worst fights, one that rivalled the major disagreements she and Stef had had in the early days of learning to function as co-parents to Brandon. In the end, Lena had brought her own plate upstairs so she could eat in peace while cleaning up. Stef hadn't followed her and for that, she was grateful—had they stayed in the same room, she was sure they would've continued fighting. The last thing she wanted was for them to unintentionally wake Callie.
Now lying in bed, pillows piled high in the middle to separate her side from Stef's, the tears she'd been holding back finally spilled. Callie's actions had been unacceptable—but in her mind, so was the picture of the terrified girl who had desperately sought comfort from her.
"So mistreating her and scaring her into submission is the answer?"
"Lena, please. Can you blame me? Maybe there is a part of me that does want Callie to have a little healthy fear of the consequences so we can get her on the straight and narrow. So she can stay with us and have a shot at a future instead of stagnating in custody! Because let me tell you that's where she's headed," she said urgently.
"The system is no place for her and you know it! It wasn't the right place then and it isn't now," she continued, her voice thick with emotion. "It's unsafe and all the gains we've seen her made since coming to live with us would be erased and rewritten. I'd rather have her upset and HOME with US!" Stef shouted, hitting her palm to her chest. "—with a FAMILY that loves her. Instead of in THERE!"
"I—I'm not willing to lose her so easily," Stef said tearfully. "Callie is safe to make mistakes with us. She may not get or accept that our love is unconditional but we'll show her. She might not understand now that we discipline her because we love her, not to be mean or to break her into submission—but with time she will."
"Unfortunately she's also accountable to a whole lot of people who have jobs to do and have the power to remove her. Our hands will be tied if it comes to that because we don't have any say in what we think is best for her until the adoption is finalized and her probation ends."
At being reminded of that detail, Lena's breath caught. Not only because her wife had a point but because she had conveniently pushed aside the details of her conversation with Bill.
Until now.
Callie was closer to running out of chances than she would have liked to believe.
A/N:
What do you think is behind Callie's fear of Lena? Whose viewpoint do you agree with more?