Notes. See below

Important! Guys, you really need to chill. This is a non-linear work of fiction, it's basically a puzzle. That means you've really got to pay attention to the details instead of jumping the gun. If you read the flashback in the last chapter carefully, than you know at least part of the reason why Stef and Lena were allowed to adopt the twins but not Callie and Jude. And you should really read the notes at the end of each chapter too, because I mentioned in the previous chapter that there were other reasons that factored in to why they lost custody. It'll make sense as the story progresses, but I haven't contradicted myself. I know what I'm doing. It may not be entirely accurate to how the system works in the real world, but this isn't the real world. Relax. If you don't want to read it, don't read it. I'm not changing anything.

Triggers. Child abuse, violence, guns.

They get to the house just before seven. After a long day at school and a short shift covering for Daphne, Callie's ready to crawl in to bed and sleep until the new year. But she can't. Jude still needs help with his math, because even though she told him to start his homework with it, he'd given up before he finished and moved on to English instead. So he needs help with his fractions, which is fine. Callie's not great with math either, but she knows the basics. It won't take too long, hopefully, to help Jude finish. They've already eaten, thanks to Cook. That's the best part of Callie's job. Not including getting paid, because that's pretty damn good too. But actually having enough food for the both of them.

When they get back from the house, they're wet. It had started raining just before the end of Callie's shift and it didn't let up as they walked home. She looked at Jude, and she sighed. He'll get sick if he doesn't warm up. "Go have a shower, bud." She tells him, nudging him towards the bathroom. He looks at her, and she just smiles. When he disappears around the corner, she feels exhaustion sink in. Removing her worn jacket, her hand slips in to her pocket and she pulls out the tips she'd made. It's not much, maybe twenty bucks, if that. But it's money.

There's no real safe place for her to stow her cash. They don't have much in terms of things, their possessions far and few between. But she enters the room she shares with her brother and she opens up the blue duffel she keeps packed for a quick removal... or an escape. The bag is lined, and there's a tear on the side. That's where she keeps her money. So it can't be seen when the bag is opened. So it won't fall out if it's searched. Stuffing the cash in with the rest she'd saved up, Callie tightened her wet ponytail and closed the bedroom door behind her. They don't get long in the shower, because the heating is fickle and they can't afford to use it all up before Jim gets his. So by the time she's left the bedroom, Jude's already out. His hair is still wet, so she takes the towel he had used to dry his body and ruffles his hair, drying it off for him. He smiles, and Callie smiles, and it's a good night.

Jude retreats to their room, taking out his homework so that Callie can help him once she's had her shower. She won't be long. Two minutes, max. By the time she's drying off her own hair, he's waiting for her, spread out on his stomach on the floor of their room. "I've got six questions left, I don't know the answer to any of them." He complains, and Callie nods. "Well, you will know them by the time we're done. Don't worry. It's not the end of the world if you get one wrong." Brushing her hair, it slicks back, still wet. There are droplets running down her neck but she doesn't pay them any attention as she sits herself down beside her brother and starts to help him with his homework.

With Callie helping him, they've finished Jude's homework by seven and Callie leaves him in their room to entertain himself. She heads downstairs, sighing as she picks up the dishes Jim had left in the living room and kitchen. She's at the sink when she hears the sound of tires on gravel, and she glances over her shoulder to look through the window in the living room as headlights shine in and turn off. He's early, she thinks as she glances up at the clock on the wall. He doesn't usually come back until about nine.

The door opens and he stumbles in. Callie bites her tongue, averts her gaze and finishes washing the plate in her hands. It's clear that he's drunk. He mumbles to himself incoherently as he makes his way past the kitchen and down the hall. Callie holds her breath as he passes, releasing it slowly before she focus' on the plate and scrubs as hard as she can. "What the fuck are you wearing?!" The plate falls from her hands, crashing to the ground and shattering on impact as Callie immediately turns around. His voice had reached every corner of the house, and she heard the sound of skin on skin. And Jude cried out. Move faster, she pushes herself to get between her brother and their foster father when she sees him looming over Jude. Her eyes dart between the adult and her brother, and she inhales sharply at what set Jim off.

The dress Jude has on isn't the most fashionable of designs but he didn't mean anything by wearing it. He's just a kid. Jim doesn't seem to see it that way. "I fucking knew you were a fairy." He growls, reaching out and grasping Jude by the fabric, pulling him off the ground. It jolts him, and he whimpers. Callie can see the redness of his cheek from where Jim had backhanded him, and the sight of her brother cowering pushes her to act.

"Get off him!" She shouts, rushing forward and wrenching her brother out of his grasp, getting in between them and placing Jude behind her. He towers above her but she stands her ground, refusing to break eye contact even as his, dark as they are, narrow. Her heart sinks, her throat feels tight with fear as he advances on the both of them and she has to back away, pushing Jude further back. He lifts a hand and she forces herself not to flinch, but when he tries to reach around her for Jude, she presses her palms against his chest and pushes him back, shoving him. His inebriation makes him unsteady on his feet and he staggers back, falling against the furniture and sending a picture frame crashing to the ground. Everyone stops. They all freeze, staring at each other before he grits his teeth, clenches his fists and stumbles back to his feet, rushing towards them. Callie pulls Jude out of the way, narrowly missing Jim. Pushing him ahead of her, she urges him to run.

It doesn't occur to her that Jude was in his room. That he had left the relative safety of their room for the dangerous waters of his. Her heart is racing as she pushes Jude towards the front door, fight or flight instinct kicking in and despite knowing they could lose everything they own to that house, she knows they just need to get out. Get out, and run. But something pulls her back. His hand curls in to the back of her shirt and he pulls, dragging her back as she shouts at Jude to keep going, but he stops. Callie slams in to the wall as he swings her around and his arm lifts, pressing in to her neck.

She can't breathe.

Clawing at his arms, her nails dig in to his flesh but he's too drunk and too angry to notice as she draws blood. "Stop!" She hears her brother shout, but a ringing starts in her ears and his voice sounds as if he were underwater. "Stop it, stop!" He doesn't move even as Jude knocks in to his side, but one of Callie's hands reaches out to push Jude back weakly. "J-Jude," she gasps, her eyes searching for his and there are tears streaming down his cheeks. Jim's other arm swings, hitting her in the stomach and she sucks in as much air as she can with him pressing down on her throat. Jude disappears and Callie looks back at him. His eyes are wild. They're dark. He's saying something, low and hissed between his grit teeth, but she can't really understand what he's saying. His words are slurring and she's starting to feel the affect of air deprivation.

The hand he was using to punch her in the stomach rises and her head snaps to the side as he backhands her before disappearing behind him and emerging with a gun. Callie's eyes widen, and she feels dread flood her body. She didn't know he carried. She didn't know he had a weapon. If she had known that, she would've prepared Jude better. She would've done things differently. Making an effort to free herself from Jim, she lifts a hand and claws at his face, scratching down his eye and cheek.

It's not much, but it's enough for him to recoil and she uses that to break free. Callie falls to the ground and crawls across the floor as he swipes at his cheek. She's on her feet again, rushing towards Jude and with Jim covering the front door they can only make a run for the back. She hears the sound of a gun cocking and she spins around, once again covering Jude as they back against the wall.

Lights flood through the living room window. Red and blue. But all she sees is black. The colour of his eyes. And the barrel of his gun.

Tonight is not a good night after all.

When they reach the address, there's already a patrol stationed at the front. The officers are standing outside, strapping on vests while a third is speaking with the growing audience out on the street. "A neighbor called it in," they're informed as they prepare themselves to enter the house. Stef's concern grows as she tightens the straps of the bulletproof vest around her waist. Her line of work is dangerous, and she knew that going in to it. But every time she has to suit up, she can't help but think about her family. She needs to be careful. She needs to go home to her wife and kids. But, she also needs to do her job.

"What have we got?" Mike asks, loading his gun just in case. The safety is on. They'll take it off when they approach the house but for now, they have to play it safe. "83 called 911. Resident is a Jim Pearson, he's got a history of resisting arrest and a DUI charge from in February. Wife passed last year, they've got two foster kids who were placed with them a year ago."

Stef swore, looking towards the house. She hated cases involving kids. And foster children were a particularly sore subject for the blonde. "He's armed?" She asked quietly as they move up the drive. "He has a permit and a revolver registered in his name." The officer confirms, and Stef nods in acknowledgement. They fall silent as they approach the house, Pearson's slurred words and raised voice drifting through the window. Stef and Mike motion towards the other cops. They break off, rounding the front of the house while Stef and her partner approach the back. Through the window they can see the backs of two kids, a boy held protectively behind an older girl. Pearson's gun is aimed at the girl and Stef swears again. It's a night for swearing, apparently. Rushing to the back, she looks at Mike who looks at her and when they hear the front door bust open, they follow suit and break through the back. "Police!" She shouts, while Mike orders him to put his gun down and the other two cops tell him to freeze.

Their own guns are raised, trained on the threat in the room as they make their way inside and Stef immediately breaks off towards the kids. "Put the gun down, now!" She shouts, eyes trained on Jim. But she stiffens at the sound of her name, her blood turning cold as her heart stops.

"Stef?"

It's quiet. Soft. Timid. Stef risks glancing towards the kids and her hold on her sidearm weakens. She feels sick. She feels numb. "Callie?" She breathes back, because although she's older than Stef remembers, and she doesn't look like she did when she was seven, there's no mistaking those eyes. That's her daughter, which means the boy hiding behind her is her son. There's a red mark on Jude's cheek as he looks at her from behind his sister, holding on to her arms like he were drowning and she was his life raft. She doesn't give herself time to look over Callie, because she's turning towards Jim Pearson and she feels angry. She's furious. Mike blocks her from advancing, his arm shooting out to hold her back and Stef's jaw clenches. She wants to hurt him for hurting her kids but she knows that could only end badly. So instead, she puts herself in front of Callie, protecting her just like she protects Jude and she adjusts her grip on her gun, knuckles turning white. She has to focus.

"Put down your weapon, Jim! Get on the ground, and put your hands on your head." One of the other officers shouts and he turns his head drunkenly, glaring at the cop as his hand shakes. She thinks, maybe, he'll listen. Maybe he'll realise he's in over his head here and he'll put his gun on the floor. Stef can tell the moment he decides not to heed their warnings. Time seems to slow, and as he turns back towards them, his arm steadying and lifting, Stef reaches back and reaches out to Callie, desperate to get the kids out of the line of fire. Moving back, Pearson's gun fires, his finger on the trigger as Stef side-steps and forces Callie and Jude to move with her. They narrowly miss getting shot, but another shot rings out and Stef glances over to Jim to see him doubled over on the ground. Mike had fired, and shot him in the shoulder. He dropped his gun, another cop moved forward and pushed it out of his reach with their foot.

Stef exhales.

Her gun lowers.

She turns.

She stares at Callie, her brown eyes wide as Jude clutches to her arm, his head bowed and resting against the Callie's back. She can just see him take a shuddered breath in before he starts to cry, and Callie turns to him immediately, breaking eye contact with Stef and drawing her brother in to her arms, hugging him tightly as his own wrap around her waist.

Stef doesn't miss the way Callie's breath hitches.

And she doesn't miss the way she grimaces.

And she doesn't miss the bruise forming on her jaw.

Or the split lip.

"Callie..."

"Do you fight bad guys?"

It comes as a surprise. Callie's question. She and her brother haven't been with them for very long. Only a week now. In that time, Callie hasn't spoken much. Jude babbles, as any three year old is prone too, but he takes his cues from his sister. He doesn't interact much with either Lena or Stef, but he tells all kinds of stories to Callie. Callie just listens, and they've heard her speak to her brother. They have to strain their hearing just to hear her voice, but even that's not enough. Brandon doesn't get much of a reaction from her either, bar a glare or two of mistrust. She sticks by her brother like she's afraid he'll disappear, and it makes sense. One night, their mother is tucking them in to bed. The next morning, she's gone.

So when Callie finally speaks to them, they don't expect it. It happens over dinner. Lena was cutting up Jude's chicken for him. Bite size pieces for the three year old to pick up with his hands. Callie shook her head when Lena offered to cut hers. She's a big girl. She can do it herself. Brandon talks about his piano lesson. That's what Stef walks in to, still in her uniform. She moves towards the fridge, ruffling Brandon's hair and smiling at both Jude and Callie. Jude doesn't notice, too busy playing with his food. Callie watches her though, a tiny crease between her brow. She looks deep in thought, and it's the most adorable thing either Stef or Lena has seen.

They share a kiss once Stef's pulled a bottle of water out, standing at the end of the table. They talk quietly, none of the kids can hear what they're saying, but they stop abruptly when Callie speaks up.

"Do you fight bad guys?" She asks, and both Stef and Lena look at her, wide-eyed.

Her voice is softer than they expected. Her pronunciations are different, the slightest touch of an accent they can't quite place shining through. Lena holds her breath as Stef and Callie stare at each other. Stef, taken aback. "Uh... kind of." She smiles, trying to keep the conversation going since it's technically their first. Callie's head tilts, and she blinks at her owlishly, as if she doesn't understand how Stef could 'kind of' fight bad guys. "So... you're like a superhero?" She asks, her voice starting to resonate a bit stronger with every word she says.

Stef opens her mouth to argue, but Callie continues, not giving her the chance. "You save people... right? So they... so they don't get hurt?" Stef just nods. "And you p-p..." Her brow furrows again, unable to think of the word her mother had once used to describe the character she read to her and Jude before bed. Lena smiles gently, inclining her head slightly so as to catch Callie's downcast eyes. "Protect?" She offers, and Callie, for the first time, smiles. The sight causes Lena's breath to hitch. "Yeah... protect... you protect people?"

Stef nods again. "I do."

Callie's eyes drift around the table, lingering on Jude a touch longer than her gaze lingers on Brandon, or Lena. Eventually, she looks back at Stef, holding on to her fork as it sits in her mac 'n' cheese. "M-mommy got hurt." She says quietly, and both women hold their breaths. She's only six, and she already knows too much about the world for their liking. Lena sits back slightly, watching Callie with an ache in her chest. "She did, sweets." Stef confirms. The only sound in the kitchen now is Jude, mumbling to himself as he plays with his food. Even Brandon has stopped talking, looking at Callie with wide eyes.

Callie looks like she might cry. Which is good, because she hasn't yet and they're expecting her too soon. They're prepared for it. But she doesn't. "Mommy got hurt, and then she went away. B-because daddy... daddy hurt her." It's not a question this time. Rather a statement. One that tugs at the women's already bleeding hearts. Jude's too young to understand what happened, and really, so is Callie. But she's old enough to know right from wrong, and she's old enough to understand death. She's staring at Stef and Stef stares back, unable to break contact, even if she wanted too. She's compelled by the emotion in Callie's eyes and she rounds the kitchen table, moving closer and closer until she's crouched beside Callie her turns slightly to watch her. "I don't wanna go away like mommy," she says quietly, and Stef shakes her head, taking a risk and reaching out, gently prying Callie's hand away from her fork and holding them between her own. "That's not gonna happen, love."

"How do you know?" She says back, and Lena can see the moment Stef falls for Callie. Her eyes soften, her embrace softens, everything about her softens. "I won't let it." The look Callie gives her is heartbreaking. A mixture of terror and doubt and relief and trust. Stef resolves herself then to giving this girl and her brother the world, if it comes to that. "So you'll-you'll p-" she glances at Lena, sees her nod in encouragement even as she bites her tongue, not wanting to interrupt the moment between their foster daughter and her partner. "-you'll protect us? Me and... me and Jude?"

Stef smiles.

"Always."

Callie smiles back.

"Like a superhero?"

"Like a superhero."

Notes. Again, I know what I'm doing. Where I'm going with this story. I know what I want to happen and what has already happened and how everyone's going to react and feel blahblahblah. You don't have to read this if you disagree with the direction I'm going. I'm not forcing it down your throats. I'm writing this for me and I'm just letting you all read it too. If you have a problem with it, that's your prerogative. I'm happy to take constructive criticism on board but don't be a dick about it. I'm not changing what I've already written. You're welcome to move on if that bothers you. Cool? Cool.