Forever's a long time

Chapter 2

*DESCRIPTIONS OF NON CON AND CHILD ABUSE IN THIS CHAPTER DO NOT READ IF YOU WILL BE AFFECTED*

In the silence of the gym Callen waited as his SEAL walked around him.

"You broke a rule Brat," Sam said, his voice rumbling in the silence.

Callen didn't want to reply, but he knew that vocal responses were required.

"I don't think so sir," he replied.

"You don't think so Brat?" Sam snapped.

"No..." Callen mumbled.

Sam placed a slap on the back of Callen's head.

"Strip," Sam ordered.

As fast as he could Callen removed his gym clothes and stood there, his head bowed, trembling in anticipation.

"You don't think so Brat?" Sam asked again.

Callen didn't reply so Sam slapped his ass.

"Sir...NO SIR!" Callen yelled, tears of frustration rolling down his face.

"You broke a rule. You needed help, you were hurting and you didn't come to me!" Sam said.

"I...I..." Callen dropped to his knees again, sobs tearing from his body.

"You needed to grieve G. It's ok to do that." Sam walked around him stroking his head.

Callen shook his head still sobbing.

"Shower now," Sam ordered.

Callen ran into the showers and stood under the spray allowing his tears to mix unchecked with the water. Sam joined him, lathering soap all over his body and massaging his neck and shoulders, allowing all the tension to wash away with the water flowing down the drain.

Sam felt him shudder, "That's it...that's my boy...let it go...just let it all go..."

Callen smiled slightly at the familiar words, remembering so long ago when that had first been said to him, and how he thought he had felt loved.

He closed his eyes as he remembered. He was ten...nearly eleven and was living with the McPherson's in Bakersfield. He had been so small then....

Callen's social worker pulled up outside a small home where a rusted pick up truck sat in the driveway. He held onto his bag as his social worker got out.

"Come on Callen, we don't want to keep Mr. and Mrs McPherson waiting. You'll like them, they own a trucking company. I remember you said you liked trucks. Mrs. McPherson also works in the local diner as a waitress. Now we have to hurry as Mrs McPherson has to be at work in an hour."

The man called brightly as he opened the door waiting for Callen to get out. He got out and hoped there were no bigger kids here. He'd just left the group home where he'd been bullied for being small so he hoped he could just be left alone.

Alone was his safety default. No one bothered him and as long as he wasn't being hurt, he didn't mind. He hated being bullied for his weird voice, which he had managed to hide after practicing his words for hours and not talking for four months in public. None of his caseworkers had noticed he wasn't talking. He overcame that hurdle, but being blond and blue eyed apparently was a bad thing amongst kids in the system.

It caused a lot of jealousy amongst the other children, the children who didn't fit everyone's expectation of a perfect child. So more often than not Callen would find himself bruised, bloody and beaten by children who wanted a chance at being adopted. Because when it came to adoption day, the blue eyed, blond haired children were always picked first.