Fostering Love(BxB)

«Three»

A/N: Trigger warning for guns, violence, and murder

Fin

"Wait, you did what?" I heard dad say from downstairs.

I glanced at the clock. It was almost 3am. Mom got assigned to some new murder case, and she's been working really late the last few days.

"Quiet, we don't want to wake up Fin," mom said.

Little late for that.

More hushed conversation ensued and I attempted to go back to sleep, thinking my parents were done with their conversation.

Then my father exclaimed, "You want us to foster a murderer!?"

Excuse me?

I sat bolt upright upon hearing that. I crept over to my closed door and pressed my ear to the gap.

"Shhh," mom hissed.

Dad hissed back, "You can't just spring something like that on me. What were you even thinking?"

A pause.

"I don't think he did it," mom said.

"What do you mean?"

Another pause.

"I don't know, something just doesn't add up with this case."

"You found a kid holding a gun where two people were shot and killed. Clearly he did it. Case closed, Hana."

"A kid doesn't just kill their parents in cold blood, though."

Dad growled, "It doesn't mean you bring a murderer into our house."

"I just have a feeling about this kid."

I opened my door and crept downstairs. For the most part, I was on board with my parents fostering. But fostering a kid from a murder investigation? A fucking murder investigation, like what was she thinking?

I padded into the kitchen where my parents sat.

"Hey, bud, what are you doing up?" Dad asked.

I ignored his question. "You can't be serious, right?"

He raised a brow. "Serious about what?"

I hissed, "Fostering a murderer."

Mom muttered, "You weren't supposed to hear that."

Dad jumped to answer, "We haven't decided on anything yet. We're just discussing the idea."

I scrutinized them. Dad looked annoyed, and mom looked hopeful. I knew dad was worried about our safety (as am I) but mom's saviour complex was kicking in and I knew she wasn't going to drop this. One way or another, she was going to find a way to help this kid.

There was no use putting up a fight so I shrugged. "If mom doesn't think the kid is dangerous it's probably fine."

Dad's jaw dropped open. "You agree with your mother?"

Mom held up a hand. "Danny, how about we save judgement until you meet the kid?"

Dad crossed his arms. "Fine, let's get some sleep. I can meet him tomorrow."

-_-_-_-_-_-_-

Sam

"Sam, there's someone I want you to meet," my case worker, Mindy, said to me.

She gestured to a couple about my parents age. One of them was my attorney, and the other was another cop. "You already know, Hana, and this is her husband, Sheriff Daniel"

Daniel extended his hand to me and I limply took it. "Hi, Sam, it's nice to meet you." He stiffly shook my hand before dropping it.

Mindy gave me a warm smile. "Daniel and Hana are the nice couple I was telling you about, Sam."

Ah, yes, the couple that was thinking of fostering me. My attorney had mentioned to me that her and her husband were foster parents, but I doubted anyone was going to want to foster a murder suspect. Three days later and I still couldn't remember what exactly I'd done, but all of the cops were dead-set on me being a murderer, so there had to be some truth to it.

I shrugged and dropped my gaze to the floor.

"I want to ask you a few questions, son," Sheriff Daniel said.

"If you want information about my case I don't have any," I muttered.

"What are you hiding from us?" he asked.

I glanced at the Sheriff. He was playing the role of bad cop, I could tell.

"Why do you think I have something to hide?"

He shrugged. "Seems like you only want to speak to your attorney. Seems a bit suspicious to me."

That's because she's not an asshat, like your officers.

I heaved a sigh. "How many times do I have to say, I don't fucking remember."

"Let me refresh your memory, you murdered your parents at 12:02am three days ago..."

I felt the cold air blowing on my skin. And the moon shined bright in the sky.

"You shot your mother once in the head..."

My mother's pleas echoed through my head as she raced down the driveway. With a bang, she stopped dead in her tracks and face-planted into the concrete. That was the last time I saw my mother alive.

"...and you shot your father three times in the chest..."

Anger surged through my veins. My father backed up with his hands in the air. Fear took over his features, and for once I was the one making him scared...Bang! Bang! Bang!

The sound of the gunshots ricocheted through my brain, as if I'd just shot the gun. I curled into a ball and begged, "Stop, please."

With just a few words I was transported back into that awful moment. This was the first time my memory of that night was restored, and I couldn't physically handle it.

"Are you alright, Sam?" Warm hands rested on my arms and I jumped away from them.

Mindy immediately took her hands away and held them up. "Hey, it's okay. You're safe here, Sam. Those memories are in the past."

I slowly relaxed. I curled up into a ball, and Mindy gingerly rubbed my arm.

"Thank you," I murmured.

"Of course," she slowly removed her hand.

I turned to the sheriff and growled, "You couldn't get information out of me any other way, so you resorted to triggering a traumatized child." I rolled my eyes. "Real dick move, Sheriff."

Hana gave her husband a dirty look and he stared back at her like he just saw a ghost.

He cleared his throat and turned back to me. "I'm sorry, Sam. I wasn't trying to trigger you."

Hana gently asked, "Do you want to talk about your flashback with us?"

I took a steadying breath as the memory flooded back again. "I remembered my mother dy--" my voice cracked and I cleared my throat--"ing. And shooting my father."

The sheriff and Hana shared a curious look.

"Why did you say your mother died, and you shot your father?" Hana prodded.

That was the part that was still fuzzy. I remembered my mother falling to the ground, and I remembered the shot, but it felt different from my father. When that memory flashed through my brain I could feel the gun in my hands, but with the memory of my mom I couldn't.

I dropped my gaze to the table. "I don't know if I shot my mom."