Hey so thanks for the review, favourites and follows. I've been meaning to add another one-shot, but couldn't think of anything good until now... Isn't it typical that good(ish) ideas only come late at night when you should be sleeping (or hurrying to finish an assignment...) :3

Anyhow, please review, favourite or follow if you like this. Also feel free to leave suggestions :D Oh, and constructive criticism is always welcome :)

Title: Different

Summary: (I haven't thought of a good one yet, sorry :3 )

DISCLAIMER: I don't own a thing, and I don't pretend to.

Note: There is a brief bit of stronger language used... only as something an adult says, but still, I know offensive language tends to... well, offend some people, so yeah, just be aware of that?

He didn't understand. He hadn't done anything wrong... Or at least if he had then, he hadn't realised that he had, and therefore didn't think it was right for him to be in trouble. But he was... Well, his sister was but that was because of him. And it was his fault, even if he hadn't done anything. After all, if he was normal then this wouldn't happen. But he wasn't. And he didn't understand why.

Curling up into the fetus position, he buried himself in his duvet, quietly crying. It was like this that his sister found him, and it was like this that he remained as she wrapped her arms around him, both reassuring and comforting him as he wept.

Even once his tears stepped she remained beside him, quietly whispering words of comfort as she stroked his hair with one hand. He turned around slightly, burying his head into her shoulder.

It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair and he didn't understand why.

"That's just how it goes, bud." She whispered, causing him to realise that he'd spoken aloud, "Not everything is fair. Someone somewhere always has to get the short end of the stick."

Looking up at her, he frowned slightly. "Why?" He asked, puzzled, "Why can't the ends be the same length?"

His sister sighed. "Because it doesn't work that way, Baby." She whispered, "I wish it did, but it doesn't... Not for people like us." There was a slightly wistful note in her voice by the end of her explanation.

"Oh." He didn't question it. He knew that she was right, and that day's events just confirmed what she'd said.

He's quiet for a moment, they both are. But, at the sound of the angry yell downstairs - accompanied by the noise of something breaking - he couldn't help but flinch, and automatically burrowed himself further into his sister's embrace. The girl's arm tightened around the thin boy and her other hand stilled in his hair as she lay listening to what was going on downstairs - getting ready to protect the boy if needs be.

The boy silently sighed. His sister had already gotten into trouble once today because of him, it didn't seem fair for her to get punished again.

Then again, she'd already told him that life wasn't fair, that nothing could change that.

And maybe she was right, but he could change what happened that night. He could be the one to protect her.

He could do something different.

Different.

After all, that was what had started things that day, him being different.

Him finding a half-empty bottle of nail polish in the bathroom that morning.

Him wearing the nail polish.

Him being laughed at at school.

Him being yelled at at home.

Callie sending him upstairs.

Callie protecting him.

Not any more.

He looked down at his nails. Despite the fact that the dark blue colour had been messily applied, unevenly spread and was already chipping, he felt confident - empowered, even - and that made all the difference.

When their foster father yelled for them, he followed his sister, ignoring her order for him to stay upstairs. He went with her to the living, stood next to her as the man yelled at them, helped her when she was ordered to sweep up the mess that the drunkard had made. He didn't hide, didn't cower, didn't cry. Not even when their foster father saw that he still had the nail polish on, not even when he hit the boy, not even when he yelled at the boy (calling him a "Fucking faggot"). He didn't cry and that felt amazing.

He couldn't believe it- he'd changed what happened, he was in control, nothing was going to be unfair again.

The next day, they got moved. It was his fault, he was too different for the foster father. Callie was right, nothing was fair.

Much like the night before, he ended up lying in his bed crying. When his sister found him like that, she sighed and sat down on his mattress, lying beside him and slowly stroking his hair.

"It's okay, baby, it's okay." She didn't need to ask what was wrong, she already knew.

Sniffing, he turned to face her. "I'm sorry!" He wailed, "I'm sorry, I messed everything up, I didn't mean to, I just wanted things to be different!"

"Oh. Baby," She sighed, pulling him into a tight hug, "One day it will be, Baby, I promise you that. One day it won't matter what we do or say or wear. It won't matter if you chose to wear nail polish, or play with dolls, or dress up in dresses. You be able to be you, to be free, and no one will stop you. One day, Baby, I promise. But until then... try to tone it down, okay Bud I don't care what you choose to do - I'll always love you and that's not ever going to change - but not everyone's like that and so you need to be careful, okay?"

He sniffed again and wiped his eyes. "Okay," He agreed, even though doing so felt so...wrong.

He mentally shook himself, pushing the feeling to the back of his mind.

It didn't matter what he thought. Callie had asked him to do it, so he would.

Besides, He reasoned with himself, Callie promised him that one day it'd change, and his sister didn't break her promises. Ever.

So until that day, he'd try not to be so different.