A/N: Hey! Okay, I don't usually use !'s, but I'm to happy to care. I'm happy that people actually reviewed and it was positive. I swear I died of shock, okay not really. You guys made me so happy I'm starting to ramble on about stuff you couldn't care less about. Anyways, I reread the chapter and I don't know if it's just me, but it seemed kind of rushed. And I should have made being a runaway harder, ' cause in reality it's a lot harder. I think. But I'll try to work it in. Oh, and I was thinking about having Fang related to Max getting caught, but I want to make him more distance, you know, give him a mysterious era about him. But he'll show up. I'm going to start writing 'cause I'm starting to annoy myself.

Max's POV

I woke up to being surrounded by cops. Just you typical morning. Well, I'm pretty sure they're cops, my visions all screwed up… then I noticed the pain in my head. Probably hit my head... But wha- "What the hell are you doing", I heard a voice say, interrupting my thoughts. I just blinked. Stupidly, I might add. Good job Max, way to add to the homeless image. I mean, not all homeless people are on drugs. Its such a stereotype. I closed my eyes briefly, then open them again. I processed what the voice said , (that sounds really stupid if you reread that sentence) and got angry. I took in the shape of three cops staring down at me, two guys and a female. "What?", I asked angrily, partly because of what the guy said, and partly because everyone's staring made me uncomfortable. I notice two other people, that aren't dressed like cops, but you never know, and it seemed as thought he was talking to a… cop? I just had time to notice him looking at the cop, before he swiftly looked at me, then back at the cops. The other guy was just standing there, no expression.

Now I wanted to laugh at the cops expressions, something I couldn't place and anger. But mostly anger. I realized that this guy is probably some higher authority. If only I could manage to hit one of 'em, when they weren't looking, but they might put me in jail or something…

Damn…

I don't think they're going to put me in jail, It's not like I committed a crime. I was defending myself. I gave him three chances, but he was to hocked up on drugs. Not my fault. What do they do to runaways anyways? Send them back to their parents? That would be pretty stupid. Maybe they found out about my parents abusing me? Maybe they locked them up in jail. But would that mean I would have to go to an orphanage…

"Get up", the cop growled without looking at me, taking me out of my thoughts, and did as told. What? I can be respectful when I want to. Look here's how I see it: if I say anything he'll get offended, I'll end up getting pissed, then I'll be in jail. Besides, I had a hunch the annoyance in his voice wasn't because of me. I guess I'm not the only one who doesn't like to be ordered around. I look at my surroundings,

and were near some police station. There aren't many people outside, and those who are don't pay attention to us, as if this was a normal thing. Nice to know. The place seems kind of dull, and old but not old at the same time. How is that possible? I don't know. I'm the one who hit my head. I see a police car next to us, and it seemed as though I fell out or something. I don't get cops. I decide to drop it because I got more important things to worry about. Maybe I could runaway once I get back to my 'home'… But I'd probably have to go somewhere else. Maybe Florida, the cold weather isn't my preference. Plus you have to worry about less things, like keeping cold, and plus they have beaches. That would be nice, and the weather, I can practically feel the sun…

Ugh, I need to focus, make a plan.

Ha, when have I ever had a plan?

Ugh.

Focus.

Right. I look at the cops and those two guys-who-I-don't-know-who-they-are and the two guys are talking with one of the officer, and the other two cops are watching me. Whatever. "Lets go", says one of the guys coolly, as if he's done this millions of times. Overconfident. He starts walking to the police station, with the other guy. One of the officers stays behind him, and says something to the other two, who go behind me. I want to roll my eyes, knowing it make them annoyed, but I don't. I just sigh and follow them. I'm so proud of myself, whoever adopts me is a lucky person. The inside looks more cleaner, and professional than the outside. "Sit there", the guy grumbles, pointing to a chair near the…what's it called… receptionist? Yeah! That's it. I sit there, and I wait.

After like 3 or 5 hours, a cop from earlier comes and tells me to follow him. Wow, it all happened so quickly. Just a couple of days ago I was sleeping in an alley, now I'm going to be sleeping in a foster care place. But no, we weren't headed to a foster home. They wanted me to talk to social workers. Ha! Like that's going to happen! Its so stupid, cause they say they understand. But if they understood, then they wouldn't have to ask why. Why I did what I did, why why why! I may have been homeless, but I'm sure as hell not stupid. They that if they say they understand, well explain. But if you understand, you have nothing to say. If you understood, you wouldn't have to be they're. Now I'm all mad because of stupid social workers. You cant trust anyone. About an hour passes before they let me go. I know they're mad because I don't say anything. But I don't care. I go back to my seat. Then someone comes in about thirty minutes later. It's a cop. "Come in here", he says before walking into a room near me. I sigh and get up, would it kill them to be nice? Well I guess I shouldn't be talking, but still. I walk in, and the room looks the same as the main office thing, but smaller with a desk. Oh, and people arguing. There two cops sitting calmly, one official person, who I learned is in charge, and two people I don't recognize. One is a women, who has blonde hair and brown eyes (This is suppose to be Anne Walker, but I don't know what the hell she looks like!), and a guy with brown hair and brown eyes. They stopped arguing when they noticed I came in. "Hello, Max", she said calmly and sat down in a chair, and the guy did the same. I raised an eyebrow, since when are the police nice to homeless people?

Well, ex-homeless people.

Whatever.

"Have a seat", she said. We sat there for a few uncomfortable minutes, not saying anything. "Why am I here", I ask finally, annoyance seeping through my voice. The lady seems surprised that I spoke and says, "We are deciding were you will be staying". I stay quiet for a minute, thinking of what to say. "What do you mean", I ask confused.

"Well, we found out about how your parents where abusive, and ,err, your father murdered your mom, and got away", she said uncomfortably, switching positions often. I felt myself get angry, not because my 'mother' died, because the jackass who killed her got away. A murder. My father.

"How could you let him get away, what kind of cops are you!", I say standing up, ready to hit something/someone. The cops immediately tense, and their hands go to where I assume their guns are. I calm myself down and slowly sit back down, and I say "Where am I going?", I ask my voice holding no emotion. "As I said, we are currently deciding where to put you", she responds, careful not to say anything to provoke me. I sigh and rub my temples, trying to get rib of the headache forming. No one says anything for a minute, when the guy I don't recognize decides to speak. "We are debating whether to take you home in Arizona with her" he said jerking his thumb to the lady, "Or with Dr. Martinez". "And I don't get a choice in this?", I said it more of as a statement than a question. He paused then said "No." It looked as if he wanted to say more, but decided against it. "Where's Dr. Martinez?", I ask, I mean if I might be living with this person, I have a right to meet her. "She couldn't come", he says vaguely. "So, why am I in here?", I say, annoyed. He merely looked over at the blonde, who went bright red. "I, uh, well, I wanted to, err, negotiate who gets custody of you", she said carefully, pausing to see my reaction, then continued, "And wanted you to be here". I didn't show any sign of anger, or anything. Although on the inside I was growing more dislike towards her. "Who are you", I said, my eyes narrowing slowly. She sat up strait and cleared her throat and said proudly, "Anne Walker." I raised an eyebrow, who does this lady think she is?

Wait.

Never mind.

Please excuse the stupid question.

Anyways, 'Anne' didn't notice my expression, but if she did she chose not to acknowledge it.

Ugh, whatever.

I rolled my eyes at her lack of response and crossed my arms. Everyone else was watching the little exchange. Awkward. "So, are you going to just sit there, cause I'd like to get the hell outta here?", I said, my words directed to the blonde bitch. I could practically feel the heat rush up to her face. "So, Anne why do you feel you should have custody of Max?", guy-who's-name-I-still-don't-know cleared his throat and said seriously. "We went over this, Rob", she laughed airily, "I have much better qualification to have custody of Max." He closed his eyes, as if trying to be patient. "We went over this: she has more experience, a better record, and better experience with kids," he said, clenching his jaw. Her smile faltered for a moment, but quickly composed herself. "Exactly, she already has six children living with her, and a dog, and she has her carrier to worry about," she responded, acting as if it was so freaking obvious. I want to strangle the bitch. "She thinks she can handle seven, as do many others, including myself," he said standing up. He crossed over to a cabinet, and pulled out a file. He flung the file across the desk to Anne, who flinched back. She took the file, and a look of distaste crept on her face. "Oh, this file," she said waving it around wildly, "Is a bunch of lies." Denial. "Look, I need you to face the fact that you aren't qualified to take care of Max, or any child for that matter," he explained slowly. "But-", Anne started, but was cut off. "The only way you'd be able to adopt a child, was if no one else wanted them", he finished sternly. "Wait," I say, an idea occurring to me, "how long will Jeb be in jail?" Please say life sentence. Please say life sentence. Please say- "He'll be staying for 50 years," he, Rob was it, said not meeting my eyes.

Fuck.

Well, I maybe he'll die by then. Its always good to stay optimistic. "So, I'm staying with this Dr. Martinez person, when I'm going?", I question, changing the subject.

I glance at Anne sulking in the corner.

Ha, bitch got told. I wonder if she' s a real blonde. Probably found it more whorish to dye her hair. But I'm not really blonde I just- god, I'm going insane. Talking about hair. What a waste of thought. Max, focus, I think. Right.

"Now", Rob said standing up.

I follow his lead, stand up, and wait behind him. Right when he opens the door, he stops. He smiles and says, "Oh, hey Valencia.", he says opening the door wider. "Max, meet your new mom, Valencia Martinez."

A/N: What a Kodak moment, huh? Sorry it took my so long to update, I was trying to make it good. But I won't go on and on about how I hate school, and all. So, review if you want me to update. Do whatever the f yeah want, just review. It's a major priority.

Bye. -Jane