Wounded; A Brallie Fan Fiction *EDITING*

Chapter Eleven: Lost and Found

Callie's POV
I woke up that night with a pounding head. My back was damp with sweat, as was my scalp. I looked to my right and saw Jesus sleeping peacefully next to me. For once, he wasn't snoring.

In the other bed, Alana and Joey were sound asleep, and they, on the other hand, were heavy on the snoring.

I knew I wouldn't be meeting sleep again any time soon, and I didn't want to be trapped in this stuffy room with two people who were inhaling like gorillas. So I carefully shifted my weight off the bed, making sure that Jesus's eyes were still shut. He'd never let me go outside alone, so I had to move as delicately as possible to the door.

When I finally emerged outside, I felt a sense of freedom that I hadn't felt in what seemed like an eternity, or two. The air was fresh and the night was warm, wrapping me up in the darkness and the nightly sounds of crickets and cars speeding on the distant busy streets.

I leaned against the balcony and took a deep breath. I looked at the stars, etched in the sky, cocooned around the crescent moon. I found it amazing that I could see the stars, a thousand tiny little suns, and I was just a little nothing inside a planet too full for me.

I thought about how the stars looked so close together, but in reality, they were so far apart. It reminded me of Brandon and I; how we were like parallel lines. We were always right there for each other, but never together.

And I wasn't sure if it was the stars or the wind or the thought of Brandon clouding the insignificance of everything else in my mind, but I began to cry. I looked down at my feet and pressed my head to the balcony as silent little sobs chorused through me.

I was so homesick, it was eating me alive. I wanted to be in my room with my sister, safe and sound, with the acknowledgment that everyone I'd ever need was sound asleep in the same hallway.

I realized that throughout all of this, I hadn't thought of Robert and Sophia once. I was sure the Fosters didn't tell them I was missing; Robert would accuse them of being unfit parents and file for custody again. But I realized, I missed my father, and I even missed my vivacious, preppy little sister, and her high-strung mother, too.

I missed being happy. When did things get so bad? When did my life become so dark and lonely?

Finally, as I cried myself to sadness in the sky, I looked back up again, and I wondered about my birth mother, Colleen. I wondered if she was watching me, trying to find a way to help me through this loneliness.

In my head, I silently spoke to my mother. I begged and I pleaded for her to make it okay again. I asked her for some kind of sign that I still had a family, and that everything would be alright.

And then, a figure appeared next to me, and I got the sense that this was my mother trying to tell me something. He turned his body toward me and waited for me to look at him.

And I looked at Jesus with blurry eyes, and shook my head. "It just keeps getting worse."

He looked at me with wide eyes. I could tell he was surprised by my sadness. I could tell that this was deflating him, as his expression fell and he drew in a deep, wavering breath.

"Callie," Jesus said softly as he rested his elbows on the balcony. "Maybe we should go home."

And just like that, the sobs stopped, and I looked at him with untamed eyes, dismayed to hear those words.

"I can't," I said, shaking my head. "I can't, I can't face them. I can't go back. I can't."

And as I began to sob again, I thought Jesus was leaving. He went back in the room, and I thought he was abandoning me just like that. But instead, he came back out with a blanket, and wrapped it around both of our shoulders.

"We'll stay out here as long as you need to,"

***

Days later, we were running out of food, and the vending machine supply at the motel wasn't doing our hunger any justice, so Jesus and I made a quick trip to the store.

It was when we were in the produce section, and my eyes landed on him. I recognized him from behind; his tall, broad structure, his dark brown hair worn messily.

Brandon.

In the next prolonged second, he turned, and he saw me. His expression was frozen to begin with, and then a smile stretched across his wonderfully confused face.

Without thinking or analyzing my impulse, I dashed across the aisle, running right at him, and when I crashed into him, throwing my arms around his neck, I felt all of my broken pieces draw themselves back into the happy picture they used to be, with a little yellow sun in the corner and a garden of weeds on the bottom, with a blossoming red rose right smack in the middle. A few other shoppers smiled at the sight of Brandon, and a few even clapped. But they had no idea.

Brandon caved his lips into mine for a quick, fleeting moment, endorsing me with the drug of he velvet lips moving with mine. But he pulled away all too soon.

"You have to go. Now." He said.

Disappointment washed over me, and I looked at him with confusion. "What, why? No, I-"

"Mom is here, Callie."

I froze, and untangled my arms from around his neck. Slowly, I backed away,  and when I reached Jesus, I told him we had to leave right away, and we booked it out of the store. But as we got stuck between two shoppers whose carts had just collided, there was Stef, yards away.

"Jesus? . . . Callie?!"

We crashed through the opening in the carts and pushes our legs toward the exit. Even as we made it to the car, it didn't seem like we had done enough running.

Both of us in a breathless panic, we screeched away without thinking about safety or logic fidst. As we rolled out of the parking lot, I turned around and saw Stef emerge from the store's entrance, and the sight of her, standing there, all alone, searching for her kids, it broke my heart all over again.