Chapter 19.
Disclaimer: You know the disclaimer by now. I do not own the Fosters. I do own the original characters for this story.
AN: I must say that this story might be coming to an end soon. Don't get me wrong, I love writing it and I love the characters, but I'm running out of ideas for what to write, and I think this story might have run its course. I also don't plan to write a sequel. I actually thought about ending it last chapter, and then doing a sequel as a crossover with the Walking Dead. It almost made sense, because this chapter is set in Georgia to deal with Harry's adopted parents, but I only entertained the thought for about twelve seconds before discounting it as idiotic.
I might write one more chapter and then an Epilogue after this, but beyond that I don't know if I will continue updating. Once the story is filed as complete, if anybody wants to continue it using my characters, send me a message and I might consider it.
Connor's POV:
"Attention Passengers, we are approaching Hartsfield-Jackson Atlanta International Airport. We will begin our final descent momentarily."
It's mid June now, and I honestly don't think things could be going any better.
It's been seven months since I married Jude. Seven months since he became my husband.
I stared down at my new drivers license with a sense of pride and accomplishment. Since Jude and I got married, we had to get new drivers licenses that had our married names on them. I couldn't help the overwhelming feeling of happiness that swelled in my chest as I stared at my new legal name.
"Staring at your license again?"
I look beside me, to see Jude staring at me.
"Finally woke back up, huh?" I joke with a smirk.
"Don't dodge the question," He snarked back with a tired grin, "I told you I would sleep through most of the flight."
"Yeah. And yes, I am staring at it again. I can't help it." I grinned goofily, "It's still a bit of a thrill to see it say Connor Stevens Adams-Foster instead of Connor Alexander Stevens."
"Not nearly as much as I like hearing you say it aloud." Jude purred.
Damn that's sexy.
"Are moms still asleep?" I asked him.
He peaked behind him. He turned back to me.
"Yeah, but they won't be for long." He said.
"Ever heard of the mile high club?" I asked him, only partially kidding.
He gave me an EPIC bitch face.
"Absolutely not." He deadpanned, "You may be my husband, but I still have to maintain at least some of my dignity..."
"Oh come on, I was just kidding." I apologize. He smirks at me and raises an eyebrow, "Okay, maybe I was a little serious."
"As tempting as the thought is," He sighed, "I don't think I could bear the quantity of smugness that Danny and Harry would exude if we actually fucked in the bathroom."
I stared at him.
"I knew flying makes you weird, but you swearing like that isn't helping me not want to drag you into the bathroom."
"Oh fuck what did I just wake up and overhear?"
We turn to see Danny staring at us from his seat across the aisle, smirking.
"Nothing." I said.
"Uh huh." He said, unconvinced, "Anyway, what's the plan for when we land?"
"Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy are gonna pick us up from the airport. Then they are gonna take us straight to the O'Reilly's place and get them to sign custody of Harry back over to them. If all goes well, we should be on a flight back to San Diego by tomorrow night..."
"Yeah but since when does anything with us ever go to plan." Jude interjected.
"Never." Harry interjected from beside Danny.
"Those pricks are gonna have a coronary when we show up." Danny predicted.
"Two same sex married couples and one engaged gay couple, one of whom is the adopted son they abandoned? I'm counting on it." Harry snarled with barely concealed glee.
The plane landed without incident, and within the hour, they were standing at baggage claim to receive their luggage. One trip to the lost luggage department, and one extremely pissed off Jude later, we were walking toward the exit, where we saw Harry's birth parents standing there waiting for us. Harry approached them first, offering a shy smile and a small wave.
Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy were having none of that, as they both lunged forward and wrapped their son in a hug.
After meeting them for the first time a year previously, Harry had been exchanging Skype calls with his birth parents every night. He wanted to get to know them, and they wanted to be the parents that Harry had always deserved but never received. About a month after mine and Jude's wedding, Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy moved to San Diego to be closer to Harry, and begun the process of regaining custody of Harry. Harry immediately left his step uncles house, much to his step uncles delight, and moved in with them. The process was almost complete, and all that stood in their way was the fact that the O'Reilly's needed to sign a few papers. Being the total pricks that everybody knew they were, they refused to fly to San Diego to sign the papers.
Harry hugged his parents back after a seconds hesitation.
"Hey Mom." He whispered, "Hey Dad."
They gasped and gripped him harder. I was a bit surprised too. It was, as far as I know, the first time Harry had ever called them mom and dad.
After standing there hugging for a few more moments, they led us to the waiting SUV.
The ride to the O'Reilly's house took three hours and ten minutes with the amount of traffic in Atlanta. The entire ride there, nobody said a word. The only sound in the car was the sound of the music that Harry had playing on the radio. He had his iPod hooked up via USB cable, and Jude and I both noticed that the closer we got to our destiation, the more violent the music, and Harry's trembling, became.
When we left the airport, is was playing some country music that made Jude cringe. By the time we left Atlanta, it had changed to Led Zeppelin, then AC/DC. When we were about halfway there, it had been switched to Guns N' Roses. Three quarters of the way there, and it was playing Anthrax. When we pulled into the town where Harry's former home was located and started down the high street, he had switched it play "Angel of Death" by Slayer.
Funny how preparing to face down his almost cartoonish homophobic abandoning adoptive parents makes Harry want to listen to a song about the specific crimes of a Nazi war criminal.
When we pulled up in front of the house, he turned it to a different song. "From Skin To Liquid" by Cannibal Corpse started playing.
"Okay that's e-fucking-nough of that shit." Jude snapped over the music, and unbuckled his seatbelt and reached up and yanked the USB cable out of the radio, "AC/DC's fine, Led Zeppelin is fantastic, Slayer is just BARELY tolerable, but I draw the line at that death metal shit."
Harry wisely held his tongue, electing not to make his customary snark about Jude being a Thrash Metal and Hard Rock purist.
I looked up at the house.
"What a dump." Lena said from behind us.
She wasn't kidding.
It was hard to believe the place was occupied by a life form that didn't come in the form of insects and other such vermin. The roof was missing half of its shingles, the front screen door was missing it's screens, and the shutters on the windows were all hanging on by single screws. One of the front windows was shattered. The paint was peeling, and the plastic siding was falling off the walls.
Yep. Dump pretty much sums it up.
Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy stared at the building in horror.
"You lived here?" Mrs. Kennedy screeched, "Was it always this shite looking?"
"It used to be worse." Harry admitted, shaking like a leaf and twitching violently, "The place didn't have any front windows the last time I saw it, now there is one."
"You okay, love?" Danny asked him.
"No, but we won't be here long so don't worry about it." Harry said shakily, "The last time I was here, my adopted dad tried to burn my hand on the stove, and my adopted mom tried to wail on my head with a soapy frying pan. Since the camp didn't work, they were gonna try to burn and beat it out of me, but I fought back and they sent me to San Diego. I don't know how I'm gonna react to seeing them again, so if I start to break, get me out of here."
We all nod at his wishes.
We all get out and slowly approach the door.
The first thing that hits me is the unmistakable skunk like stench of freshly smoked marijuana, and the smell of booze was thick in the air.
We all peek in the shattered window. It looked like the aftermath of a 1986 Guns N' Roses party. The inside of the house was even worse than the outside. The walls were caked with gunk and dust, and there was garbage strew everywhere. Half eaten pizzas that were at least three days old sat open on the cracked coffee table. The sofa and loveseat were both overturned, and the bottom of the sofa was ripped out. On top of the coffee table was a Tupperware bowl, filled to the brim with white powder, that I presumed was cocaine. There were hundreds of empty beer bottles on the floor... and the tables... and the TV stand. Everywhere. Next to the kitchen entrance sat a large bucket that was overflowing with bottle caps. I snorted.
If this was Fallout, these people would be rich.
Harry's foster dad is laying passed out in a chair, with a lit joint in one hand, and a half empty bottle of beer in the other. His wife beater tank top was obviously once white, but now it was stained brown and yellow. His jeans were ripped on both knees and were caked with dirt and grime, as was every exposed bit of skin. His hair was matted, and he was very still.
"Wouldn't it be great if he just died while we stood here?" Harry snarked malevolently, "Hell, maybe he already is dead."
The lump of lard in the chair snorted.
"Dammit, no such luck." Harry growled.
He stalked forward. Harry and I stood at his sides, while Jude covered his back.
Harry delivered a high stomp right to the man's testicles. Mr. O'Rielly awoke with a screech and slipped out of the chair to lay on the floor, clutching his bruised jewels. Harry leant down and stared right into his face.
"Guess who's back, you imbecilic ape?" He snarled. Mr. O'Reilly's face paled as Harry released a high, cold, almost Joker-esque laugh.
The filth quickly recovered.
"I told you not to come back here." He snarled.
"Oh, believe me." Harry snarled right back, before kicking the slime in the stomach, "I have no intention of staying for very long. Sign the fucking papers, and I'll be out of your lives for good. Where's the witch?"
Mr. O'Reilly pointed to the ceiling.
"Of course the hag is still asleep at 5:00 in the fucking afternoon. No sense of manners. GO GET HER!" Harry thundered. The pitiful excuse for a man leapt to do as he was told. Almost immediately, I smelt the distinct smell of urine and feces.
"You made him piss and shit himself at the same time." Danny stated.
"Yes, indeed I did." Harry confirmed.
Danny exchanged a twenty dollar bill with Harry.
"Nice." Danny commented. Harry nodded.
Not two seconds later, both components of the dirt bag couple stomped down the stairs, glaring at us.
Jesus Christ, and I thought my mom was bad. She's like Mother Theresa compared to this vile waste of blood and organs.
"Where are the fucking papers?" She slurred as she approached us. I caught a whiff of her breath and had to restrain myself from vomiting up everything I had eaten since the wedding.
Mr. Kennedy stepped forward, and withdrew a clipboard and ink pen from his briefcase and handed them to the O'Reillys.
"Sign them, and we'll be gone." He said stiffly, very close to losing his temper.
The pigs couldn't sign the papers fast enough, and when they were done they practically threw it back to Mr. Kennedy.
"There, now get this faggot out of our sight." Mr. O'Reilly snarled, before dragging his wife up the stairs.
We all turned and left without a word.
Stef got in the driver seat, and Lena got shotgun. In the second row, Jude and I sat cuddled up against each other, taking comfort from each other's physical contact. In the back row, Harry, Danny and Mr. and Mrs. Kennedy sat. The adults had their arms wrapped around the two boys.
Harry started to sob, but the sobs turned to squealing laughter as he hugged his parents.
"It's f-f-f-FINALLY OVER!" He screeched.
I smiled as I turned to look at them out of the corner of my eyes.
Harry would finally have the parents he was meant to have.
Finally.