Anytime Foster I'm Always Here

-The Place That Feels Like Home-

A/N: "Home" Reed Pittman 

-Flashback: Not long after Sophie lost her parents.- 😥

Sophie's POV: 

I was running. Running from the people who would never love me. Their words were cold, their actions even colder. Why? What had I done to deserve this? Nothing. Nothing at all. And yet, they acted like I was some kind of burden. Like I was the problem.

Tears blurred my vision, burning hot against my cheeks as I ran. My chest ached, and my legs—already weak—finally gave out beneath me. I collapsed onto the ground, sobs wracking my body.

Why does it have to be like this?

Their voices echoed in my mind, sharp and cruel: You're useless. Can't you do anything right? You're so stupid. Oh, you lost your parents? Guess they didn't love you.

The words sliced through me like knives, leaving wounds that would never fully heal. I curled in on myself, trying to disappear into the shadows. If I could just leave this foster home, maybe—just maybe—things would be different. But even wishing for that felt like too much.

Footsteps.

Panic shot through me. Someone was coming. I scrambled to hide, to wipe away my tears, but it was pointless—I was too exhausted, too broken.

Then, a voice. Hesitant. Familiar.

"Hey... are you Foster?"

My head snapped up. Keefe. His voice, filled with concern, cut through the noise in my mind.

Something inside me cracked open. With the last bit of strength I had left, I pushed myself up and clung to him. His arms wrapped around me, holding me steady, grounding me. I let everything pour out—the grief, the anger, the loneliness—just like I had when I lost my family.

He hummed our song, By Your Side, his voice soft, reassuring. His hand rubbed gentle circles on my back, anchoring me in the present, in his warmth.

When my sobs finally quieted, we sank onto a nearby bench together.

"Shhh," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I'm right here. I got you."

"Do you want to talk about it?"

His voice is gentle, his tone open—letting me know I don't have to say anything if I don't want to. But I do. I have to. If I don't tell someone, how will I ever get out of this nightmare?

I nod, swallowing hard. My chest tightens as I take a shaky breath and force the words out.

"My... f-fos... foster—" My voice wavers, breaking under the weight of it. I inhale again, trying to steady myself. "My foster family... they're... horrible."

The last word slips out, and the dam breaks. My tears start again, spilling down my face. Keefe doesn't hesitate—he pulls me close, arms wrapping around me like he's trying to shield me from the world.

"Oh, Sophie," he murmurs, his voice aching with emotion. "No one should ever be treated like that. Why did they even place you with them? If they can't love you, they shouldn't have you."

His words make sense, but sense doesn't change reality. It doesn't change how terrified I am.

"We need to do something about this," he continues. "Like maybe talk to your system or—"

"NO!" The word bursts out of me before I can stop it. "We can't talk to them! They're terrifying!"

Keefe exhales slowly, his grip tightening just slightly—a silent reassurance. "Sophie. We need to. I can't bear the thought of them hurting you more. They shouldn't have even laid a finger on you."