Disclaimer: I don't own the Fosters, only the plot and any characters you don't recognize from the show.

Author's Note: Yay for spring break! Sorry I haven't updated in a while; the end of last quarter was crazy, but here's another chapter for you. Also, I meant to say this earlier, but this story comes from my head and some web browsing, so I apologize for any inaccuracies and I hope I'm not inadvertently offending anyone. Please, if I need to/should fix something, tell me by review or PM, and I'll do my best.

Trigger warning: Flashbacks of prostitution, not very detailed.


After a span of time that seemed both agonizingly long and surprisingly short, it was time for Cole to leave Girls United. He had mixed feelings about it. In a way, he was relieved, happy to get out of this place for girls. But he was also apprehensive; no, scratch that, he was scared. While this can never been home, it was something he knew, and the first stable place he'd been in for years. The Kings – that was the unknown, and he didn't know how to prepare for it. He flashed back to the last home he'd left and the new place he'd found for himself.


"Get straight or get out." The chilling words replayed themselves over and over in his head. They never got that it wasn't about being straight or gay; he was straight, if by straight, you meant he was a boy who was interested in girls. Yet no matter how many times he tried to explain, they just wouldn't understand it, wouldn't listen, wouldn't read any of the books or pamphlets he brought home. Nobody could say that he didn't try. All that mattered was what was on the outside, because that is the part that people saw. And his parents couldn't bear their rich country club friends to see their daughter, who'd always been dressed like a princess and paraded around at parties, dress and act like a boy. (He hated those princess dresses; they lay in a ribbed and destroyed pile in the bottom of his class. He'd even burned one once, and boy did he get in trouble for that.)

"Get straight or get out." They told him to stop this nonsense and be who he was born to be. So he did. He got out. No more lying, no more pretending. Yes, he did hope that if he actually did leave, his parents might regret their harsh words and take him back, because parents are supposed to love their children, right? Or not. He'd known that the streets were not a good place to be, but he hadn't expected it, not really. It's not something a person can prepare for. Nobody hires a fourteen year old who doesn't even have a home address to put on an application, or any kind of identification. He was cold, he was hungry, he was dirty. He was at least thankful that he lived in southern California and not, say, Alaska, because at least he didn't usually run the danger of freezing to death.

One cold night, curled on a park bench, stomach growling from lack of food, they found him. From the viewpoint of a starving fourteen year old, he'd thought they were women, not girls. He later figured out that they weren't more than a few years older than him, sixteen and eighteen. Living on the streets had aged them both beyond their years. They took pity on him, offered him a place to stay and a meal, though they warned him that they didn't have any extra and he'd have to pull his own weight if he wanted to stay. They took him to a one-bedroom apartment that they shared with four others in their teens and early twenties. At first, all he knows is that they all work at night. Finally, after another day or two of fruitless job searching, he asked them if they can get him a job where they work. And that is when they tell him the truth.

"It's an easy job," one of them told him. "You just let them do what they want to do, do what they ask, and they give you some money."

"Sometimes, you do it in their car. The nicer ones take you to a motel. You get taken to a motel, you find a maid's cart on the way out and help yourself to some towels, soap, toilet paper, whatever you can find."

"Being a tranny turns some of them on." They knew what he was; it's hard to hide in such close quarters. "Besides, usually you can just give them some oral attention, you know what I mean." He didn't, and laughing at his naivete, they told him.

"It pays the bills, keeps you supplied, you know." By supplied, he knew they meant drugs. Most of them were on some kind of drugs, cocaine or heroin. He wanted a different kind of drugs, and no longer having illicit access to his mom or dad's wallet, he could no longer pay his hook-up for the hormones. And his body was starting to feel the effects.

So Cole, who had never so much as kissed a girl before, took the job. They showed him what areas of town to hang out in, where cars would drive up and you could negotiate a deal. They showed him how to dress to grab attention, how to convince a john to use protection. He didn't turn more than a few tricks a week, so they taught him other ways to get fed.

With his young, innocent face, he usually ended up as the one stealing stuff from the mini-marts while one of the older girls distracted the clerk (they knew which ones had the young pimply clerks who never got attention from girls at school) by flirting and buying a pack of gum. They got quite good at it, Cole especially, and the more money they could save on food, the more they had to spend on other things.

One of other members of the apartment got herself hooked up with a pimp, and tried to recruit her former housemates. Her pimp took care of her, she said, made sure no john got too rowdy and bought her clothes, jewelry, and drugs. Some of the other girls allowed themselves to be taken in, but neither Cole nor the two women who found him did. They told him about the dangers, and he believed them. He'd had his life controlled before; he'd rather deal with a little poverty and keep his freedom.

It wasn't an easy life, but it wasn't an impossible one either. He'd prefer a different job, but for the first time, he'd found people who were kind to him, who accepted him. Sure, there were bad times, times when johns would use him like a girl despite the negotiation. Times when they'd hit him, beat him. But he'd rather take abuse from strangers than from his own family.

But the only constant in life is change, and Cole's life changed again when he got caught by an undercover cop.


And now life was about to change again. He characterized his first life, with his parents, as bad people and a good situation (if, by good, you mean that he had a roof over his head, clothes on his back, education, and safety). He characterized his second life as good people (his friends, that is) and a bad situation. His third life, in the system, was middling on both accounts; mostly the people were reasonably good, some of them were paid to be though none were his friend, and the situation was better than the streets, except he had no freedom and no hormones. What would his fourth life be like?

"Cole!" Michelle's voice called him back to the present. "Daydreaming much? They're here. Time to go."

His eyes dashed to the clock. Sure enough, it was just after noon. He's grown to realize that this was just a family that ran a little late and stopped freaking out so much about it. He got up off the bed, and grabbed his suitcase.

"You better keep in touch, young man," Michelle said, as they walked downstairs. "Let us know how things are going, and if you need anything, know that we're here for you, in case things don't work out like you expect."

"Uh, okay."

"Not that I'm saying it's not going to work out. I mean, I'm sure it is. The Kings are great, you seemed to really hit it off with them, but sometimes it can be difficult to adjust to a new environment is all. Besides, you've kinda grown on me."

"You've grown on me, too."

Emily and Alex were waiting for him in the foyer. "Hi Cole," Emily said. "Are you ready to go home?"

He smiled. As much as it made him nervous, he liked the sound of that. "Yeah."

"Well, alright then. Do you need some time to say your goodbyes?"

"I did already." And he had, at group this morning.

"Remember what I said, about keeping in touch," Michelle said.

"I will," Cole promised. She gave him a half hug and sent him out the door. Alex took his suitcase from him and put it into the trunk of the car. Cole climbed in the back seat.

"We're really happy that you're coming home with us," she said.

"Kids are too. They wanted to skip school today and join us, but since it's the last week, we told them they'd just have to wait and see you after school," Emily added.

"We've only got about a forty-five minute drive, not too bad. Buckled up?"

"Yeah."

"Then let's go home." Emily and Alex filled the short car ride with chatter and the radio played softly in the background. Cole managed to respond appropriately when necessary, but all this hadn't quite sunk in yet, not until they pulled up to a house.

It was a subdued, yet cheery shade of yellow. A covered front porch with a swing made it seem welcoming somehow. Cole noted the lack of stairs, and the fact that it was only a single story. These, then, were people who designed their lives around the needs of their kids; this was a house made for Jamie to move around in freely. After only knowing parents who tried to design their kid around their lives, it seemed almost too good to be true.

"Coming, Cole?" Emily asked, smiling. Alex had his suitcase in hand, and they were waiting several paces ahead of him. He hurried to catch up. They led him inside.

"Welcome to your new home," Alex said.

Cole's eyes tried to take it all in at once. The front door opened upon a big vaulted living room, with couches and chairs centered around a fireplace. An entertainment center off to one side showed that media was not neglected, but also not the center of things. In Cole's old house, a huge flat-screen television was the focal point of the family room, and a pristine parlor was where his parents had entertained visitors. This place showed evidence that a family lived here, and lived fully. The living room led to a dining area and a kitchen, and just off the kitchen was a patio.

Cole turned to Emily and Alex. "I like it," he said with a smile. "It's cozy. It, I don't know, it feels real."

"Do you want to see your room?" Emily asked. He nodded.

They led him down a hallway. Three doors led off to the left, and two were on the right side, with another door at the very end. Emily opened the first door on the right. The room was plain, with a bed, a desk, a nightstand, a dresser, and a closet. A window, with a bit of a seat in it, looked onto the front porch.

He sat on the bed, looking around. Even Alex couldn't quite decipher the look in his eyes or his body language.

"I know it's plain," Emily said, nervously. "But we'd thought we'd wait to decorate it until you got here, so you could pick out what you wanted, you know."

He turned to her. "It's great. It's my own. I've never had my own room." His face fell. "I didn't share at my...uh, parents' house... but it wasn't really mine. It belonged to their daughter, Nicole. Pink. Frilly. Princess-y. Posters of boy bands on the walls."

Alex and Emily sat on the bed on either side of him. "You must have felt like a fish out of water," Alex said.

"Something like that."

"Well, you can make this place your very own. We can paint the walls, get some new stuff. You might have to sleep on the couch for a night or two, if things need to dry, but it will be all your's."

"Any ideas?" Alex prompted.

"I...just...," Cole seemed at a loss for words. It was just too much at once.

"Think on it," Alex suggested. "It doesn't have to happen overnight. Rooms are constantly changing, as we grow and accumulate more things and change our interests."

"Why don't we let you unpack, and when you're ready, you can come out and join us? Oh, are you hungry?"

"A little," Cole admitted.

"I'll figure out something for lunch then," Alex said. She and Emily took their leave.

Cole didn't make a move toward his suitcase right away. It still all seemed too good to be true. His own room? He could decorate it however he wanted? When would the other shoe drop? Did he dare get comfortable here? Wouldn't that make it so much harder when it was time to leave?

Unpacking couldn't hurt. He'd unpacked at Girls United, after all, and it wasn't like he had all that much stuff that he couldn't pack it up again in a hurry. Carefully, neatly, he arranged his clothes in the closet and the dresser, and set his few knickknacks and books on empty shelves. The room looked bare, empty, and he thought again about the Kings' offer. He'd never had the option to decorate before. If they wanted to spend money on him, should he just let them and enjoy it, even if it wasn't going to last? Or should he try to be inexpensive, because being a financial burden might cause them to kick him back sooner? Pros, cons, pros, cons, he thought, as he tried to balance the imaginary scales in his mind. Everything was a balancing act, that much he had learned.

His stomach growled. Oh, right, Alex had said she was going to put together lunch. Had he kept them waiting too long? He exited out his bedroom, and took the short walk to the kitchen. Alex and Emily were leaning on the counter, talking. He couldn't hear what they were saying, and they fell silent when he approached. People always seemed to fall silent when he approached.

"I never asked," Alex said. "What kind of sandwich toppings do you like? We have tuna, ham, roast beef, peanut butter and jelly...?"

"Roast beef, please?" Cole said.

"Cheese, lettuce, tomato, mayo?"

"Sure." Within moments, a sandwich was placed before him.

"Here you go," Alex said, with a flourish that made him smile.

"Kids will be home soon. They'll be so excited to see you," Emily said, as Cole ate.

"Yeah, uh, me too."

"So, listen, we were thinking about hosting a barbecue this Saturday and inviting a few friends and family over, not too many..."

"The important ones-" Alex interrupted.

"...so you can meet them, and they can meet you," Emily said.

"But, if you think it'll be too overwhelming, we don't have to," Alex added.

"Yeah. We can spread it out over a period of time, if you prefer, or maybe wait and let you settle in first, and then do the barbecue in another week."

"We do think you should meet at least a couple of people before the big Fourth of July bash- slash- birthday party in a couple weeks, or else you'll not know anyone and everyone will be swarming to meet you."

"So, what do you think?"

"Hmm..." Cole was thinking. Meeting a bunch of new people – and getting judged by them – was not his idea of a good time, not ever. But it was nice to think that they wanted their friends and family to meet him; it added to the idea that they were really planning on keeping him long-term. (Yes, he knew that's what they said the plan was, and yes, they seemed sincere enough, but he didn't count on anything ever. Happy endings didn't seem to be his lot in life.)

"Not too many people?" He asked finally, receiving encouraging nods in return. "That should be fine, I guess. For the barbecue, I mean."

"We were thinking of inviting my parents and my sister's family..." Alex began.

"My dad lives in Hawaii," Emily interrupted, "and my mom doesn't do parties. We'll have her over for dinner soon, so you guys can meet."

"...and a very dear friend and her family. She has kids somewhere around your age, so hopefully you'll find someone to talk to."

Cole shrugged noncommittally.

"That's fourteen new people right there, and it's possible Mac and/or Jamie might want to invite a friend."

"How many adults?" Cole asked.

"Six," Alex answered.

"Eight kids, then."

"Yep, ranging from sixteen to nine."

"Okay," Cole agreed. Fourteen wasn't too bad, and it was only Wednesday. It would be like Family Day at Girls United.

"Great," Emily said. "We'll make the calls today then. I was hoping, I mean, if you want, you might help me cook? Everybody will bring something, of course, and Alex's dad will take over the barbecue-"

"It's some kind of thing with him. I'm perfectly capable, but he takes control every time," she said with an eyeroll.

"Sure. I can help," Cole said. It would be just like Family Day at Girls United. Good thing he liked to cook.

Just then the door burst open. "IT'S SUMMMMMMMERRRRRRR!" Mac's voice rang out. "IS COLE HERE?" She suddenly turned the corner into the kitchen. "Hey Cole! You're here! Moms said we had to go to school. It was the last day. Nothing ever happens on the last day. But it's summer now. And you're here! So it's going to be a really good summer. How long have you been here? What have you done? Have you seen your room yet? Moms said they were going to wait for you to decorate it. Decorating is fun. I'm so glad you arrived before my birthday. It's on the Fourth of July, did I tell you that?"

"Mac, breathe," Emily instructed her fast-talking daughter. "And where's Jamie?"

"He's coming. Paul had a video game to lend him, or something. Paul's mom invited us to go swimming at their place after school, but I said that our new brother was coming today so we had to come home, but she said maybe tomorrow or later this week and that we could totally bring Cole."

Alex took a look at Cole, whose face went ashen at the mention of swimming. She could guess the feelings swirling around his head right now. "We'll see," she told Mac.

Just then, the door swung open again and Jamie came inside. "Hey Cole! Sorry, but Paul had this new game. Do you like video games?"

"Haven't played them enough to know," Cole answered.

"I'll show you then," Jamie offered. He turned to his moms. "Paul's mom said we could come swimming and bring Cole."

"I already told them that," Mac said.

"As I told your sister, we'll see," Alex informed her son.

"Cole's only seen his room and the family rooms. Why don't you guys give him the rest of the tour, inside and outside?"

"Okay. Can we go to the park down the block, too? Cole should have a good idea of the neighborhood," Mac said. "You made sure we did when we came here."

"Jamie?" Emily asked.

"I'm good."

"Alright. You guys can walk him down there if you want, but come right back."

"Uh, really?"

"Yes, really. We'll all go later in the evening, when it cools down a bit, if you still want."

"Okay. Sweet. Cole, come see my room!"

"Why would Cole want to see a girl's room?" Jamie asked doubtfully. "Come see my room. I'll show you my comic book collection."

"It was my idea. My room first."

"Rock paper scissors?" Cole tentatively suggested.

Mac and Jamie jumped on it. "Best two out of three," Mac declared. Jamie won.

"C'mon," he said to Cole, pulling him down the hall. Mac followed, veering off to drop her backpack in her bedroom, before following them into Jamie's room. Alex and Emily watched them go, wearing identical smiles.


Author's Note 2: Any suggestions for what Cole should do with his room?