Fosters Protectors

**This is quite possibly the darkest "The Fosters" fan fiction ever written and posted, and for that, I'm sorry. I love angst, and I love "The Fosters". I also love the bond between Stef and Callie, and couldn't resist the idea of having them bond in the aftermath of trauma. Major trigger warnings for this story, as it deals with rape and forced sex. As it stands, this is currently a one-shot, though I may add some one-shot follow-ups in the future.**

**Also, I'm fully aware of the fact that this story likely has a limited shelf life on this site (it's also posted at Archive of Our Own) but I figured I'd give it a shot for the sake of those readers who despise censorship, as I do.**

The man was waiting for them when they got home from the Mexican restaurant Lena had chosen for their first date night in three months. The house was dark, Callie and Mariana and Jesus—the only three of their kids in residence tonight—no doubt having been in bed for at least two hours by the time they arrived home. They'd stayed out later than planned. One glass of wine with dinner had turned into three apiece, which had led to some very questionable dancing to the live band, then an extended make-out session in the bathroom before they decided they were both too drunk to drive home and called a cab instead. Stef was vaguely aware that she would feel embarrassed to have overindulged in the morning when they had to drive back to the restaurant to pick up their car, but frankly, right now she was too eager to get her wife into bed to care. The wine had loosened her muscles and lowered her inhibitions just enough to guarantee an intensely memorable night of hot sex for both of them.

Right now her sole focus in life was rocking Lena's world.

Thoughts of how to do exactly that distracted her so much that she didn't notice the man in the shadows next to their front porch until his gun was pressed into the back of her head. "Bitch, shut up."

Stef's heart dropped into her stomach at the menace in the deep, masculine voice. She knew instantly that this was bad, and that she wasn't sober enough to even consider trying to disarm her attacker. Not while wearing a goddamn dress and heels, with her service revolver locked in the gun safe under her side of the bed. Assessing the situation in the space of time it took Lena to gasp in shock, Stef grabbed her wife's hand while raising the other into the air, indicating her willingness to obey. She nodded wordlessly, afraid to make a sound. If he pulled the trigger now, her family would be at the mercy of a gun-wielding sociopath. She couldn't let that happen.

"You, too." The pressure from the muzzle of the gun against her skull never eased, but Lena's frightened whimper and the way she physically recoiled with so much violence that her shoulder crashed into Stef's suggested that the man had turned his attentions to her wife. "Fuck, you've got nice tits. Can't wait to have a better look."

Stef tensed at the implication of the words—the violation they hinted at, as well as the future degradation they seemed to promise. Fiery anger surged through her veins, making her question whether she could stomach going along with whatever their attacker had planned until she found a better opportunity to gain the upper hand. If she tried and failed to disarm him, he would simply kill her and take whatever it was that he wanted from Lena. And quite possibly Callie and Mariana, if he found them in their bedroom. Who knew what he would do with Jesus? The icy chill that seized her heart at the thought of any of her babies being hurt cooled her rage, forcing her not to react to the crude taunt. Instead, she whispered, "What do you want? The keys to our mini-van are in her purse. Take it."

He barked harsh laughter, then buried his nose in her hair and inhaled deeply. "Unlock the door and take me upstairs to your bedroom. I want to see your little dyke love nest, where you ladies _fuck_ each other."

Stef closed her eyes briefly. They were in serious trouble. Was this a hate crime, because they were gay? Did it even matter? "Please," she whispered. She wondered if he knew that they had kids in the house. She was afraid to make a big fuss about taking him inside for fear that he might realize she had something in there to protect.

"Please don't do this," Lena echoed tearfully, the first time she'd spoken. "Put the gun down, at least."

He knocked the weapon against the back of Stef's head with enough force that darkness crept into the edges of her vision before receding as throbbing pain roared through her skull. She stumbled against the door before an arm around her waist, pulling her backward into the muscular body of a man at least a foot taller than herself. His erection pressed into the small of her back, and he spent long, humiliating seconds grinding himself against her while groaning lewdly. "Either of you cunts do anything except exactly what I say, I'll put the other one down so I have less _bullshit_ to deal with. Do you understand?"

Stef nodded, then immediately regretted the movement. Her head was spinning. "We understand."

God, she hated how weak her voice sounded.

Stef was glad to have a spare house key in her purse. She didn't want Lena to have to do anything that might draw attention to herself, or that could result in any kind of physical abuse. She was happy to unlock the door and lead the way and do the talking and even let this man rape her if that's what he wanted, if only Lena was spared the trauma of that kind of assault. Somehow it seemed infinitely worse to imagine Lena suffering through forced sex when she'd consciously chosen never to allow a man inside her body. Stef was pretty sure she could handle it. It wasn't like she hadn't been fucked before—a little too roughly, even, on a few nights when Mike had indulged in too many beers with the guys. It would be painful and frightening and she couldn't bear the thought of Lena seeing it happen, but she was one-hundred percent prepared to sacrifice herself to protect the woman she loved more than life itself.

He marched them through the front door, waited for Lena to lock up behind them, then pushed the gun against Stef's head again. "Bedroom. Don't do anything stupid."

She shook her head. She wouldn't. This was the most precarious part of the night so far. They'd already gotten lucky that none of the kids had waited up to talk to them—more often than not, at least one of her babies had some problem of the sort that required talking through at midnight. Whether it was because Brandon was staying the night at Mike's and Jude at Connor's, they'd managed to avoid an immediate encounter with one of the kids—but Stef knew that if they made even the slightest commotion on their way upstairs, that luck wouldn't hold out. Callie in particular was a light sleeper. The thought of this man gaining access to Callie—their beautiful, damaged survivor—made her sick to the very depths of her soul. She had promised Callie that nobody would ever hurt her like Liam had again, not if she could help it, and she intended to keep her word.

No matter what it took.

She led them into the bedroom, then waited as he commanded Lena to close the door. She heard a quiet _click_ after the door shut and managed a pained smile. _Good girl, Lena_. She was pleased that she'd engaged the lock without being asked. As long as they kept their voices down, that would hopefully be enough to keep her babies far away from whatever this man had planned.

"Turn on the light." As soon as the room was suddenly, startlingly illuminated, the man said, "Now turn around." The sharp tap he delivered to the back of her head left no doubt that the command was meant for her. "Let me see you."

Stef pivoted in place, facing forward just in time to catch Lena from falling when the man sent her careening farther into the room with a hard shove. He grinned nastily as though daring Stef to say something, all while still pointing his gun at her head. She helped Lena straighten and stand at her side, then wrapped an arm around her waist for support. She worried that giving in to her need to reassure Lena would make her seem weak, or encourage him to use Lena's distress against her, but she couldn't convince herself not to hold her wife when this could very well be their last night together—if not literally, then at the very least as the women they had been before this man entered their lives.

"Take off your clothes." He waved his gun between them, the movement so careful and controlled that despite Stef's increasingly desperate attempts to identify a potential moment of distraction, he remained in total command of the situation. And, therefore, both of them. "Undress each other."

For the first time since they'd arrived home, Stef looked into Lena's eyes. The terror she saw in them twisted her stomach into knots. She darted her gaze back to their captor, prepared to do whatever it took to ensure that Lena could walk away from tonight with as much of her dignity intact as possible. "Please…I'll do whatever you want. Just leave her alone, all right?" She paused, then lied, "She's on her period."

"I don't really _care_." The man was taller than Mike, more muscular, with blond hair that he wore in a military-style crewcut and a handful of tattoos that peeked out from beneath the short sleeved shirt that clung to his ripped arms. Feeling almost ridiculously helpless, Stef scanned the inked artwork with a law enforcement officer's attention to detail. She would need to testify later, if they caught him. If she was still alive. She needed to be able to identify this asshole. If she could do nothing else, then for fuck's sake, she would do that. The tattoo of the scantily clad woman on his arm jumped as he tightened his grip on the gun. "Right now I want to see you both naked. If you don't start taking off her clothes, I'll go ahead and shoot you, and then do it _for_ you. Only thing is, I'm not sure your girl likes the way I touch her." He locked his eyes on Stef's, grabbing his erect penis through his pants. "She'll get used to it, though. Just might hurt a little at first, is all."

Stef was pretty sure that Lena had never looked so pale in her life. She tried to catch her wife's gaze, worried about what she had to do next. Until their attacker got distracted and sloppy, Stef didn't know what option she had except going along with whatever he said. She'd dealt with a lot of criminals over the course of her career, and had no doubt that this guy was capable of delivering on every threat he'd made so far. Accosting two women at gunpoint right outside their front door took a great deal of self-confidence and suggested a deep comfort with physical violence. This was no fumbling, first-time rapist. In other words, she needed to choose the moment to attempt to turn the tables very carefully.

Which meant that right now, she needed to undress Lena—and Lena needed to undress her.

"Okay," Stef said in as calm and measured a tone as she could muster. She winced at the way Lena flinched, and at the panic in her eyes. "My love, I'm going to unzip your dress. Okay? And I want you to unzip mine."

Lena's eyes welled with tears, but she nodded slowly. "Okay." She gave Stef a look of pure, heartbreaking trust, then turned to offer her back and the clasp and zipper that held her dress up. "I'm sorry."

"You have _no_ reason to be sorry, honey. None at all." She lowered the zipper of the deep purple dress to the small of Lena's back, both sides gaping open to expose her soft, caramel-colored skin. It took every ounce of her willpower not to yank the zipper back up when she saw predatory hunger flash in flat, soulless blue eyes. "Now me, my love," she said, turning so Lena could return the favor. She absolutely didn't want Lena to be the only one showing bare flesh.

Lena hesitated for so long that Stef wasn't sure she was going to follow orders. But after a long, breathless moment during which Stef was half-convinced that the man would simply kill her now that her back was to him, Lena finally brought her shaking hands to the catch on Stef's dress and freed her from the safety of its confines. Hoping to keep the man's attention away from Lena, Stef took a deep breath and shrugged out of the top, then pushed the dress down over her hips, allowing the thick material to fall and pool around her ankles. Left only in the lacy red bra and panties set she'd worn specifically to entice Lena into a night of hot, dirty, married lovemaking, Stef felt unbearably sexualized and very, very exposed.

"You're a nasty little slut, aren't you?" Gun still trained on Stef's head, the man looked her up and down with amusement before gesturing impatiently at Lena. "Do me a favor and take off the rest of what your dyke whore put on for you tonight. Lucky cunt, looks like you were getting laid with or without me here."

Stef cringed at his language, and at the pain in Lena's eyes when she lifted her hands in the air and then froze. "Please—"

Anger flashed in his eyes. Rather than wait for the inevitable explosion of violence at Lena's hesitation, Stef reached behind her back and frantically unhooked her bra. "Here," she said, pulling it off and tossing it onto the floor. She didn't let herself consider just how vulnerable she was making herself as she pushed her panties down her thighs, then kicked them off. "Here, I'm naked. I'm naked. Okay?"

He smirked. "It'll be okay when brown sugar over there is naked, too. Show me her body. I want to inspect my _property_ for the night."

Lena jolted as though she'd been struck. Stef knew that the racial undertone of his taunting had hit its mark, and more than ever, she wanted to punch this guy in the face until he stopped breathing altogether. The good news was that the adrenaline was starting to sober her up. The bad news was that she still hadn't found the right time to attack. So far he'd maintained laser focus with his weapon. That couldn't last. Especially—she hated to even think this way—but _especially_ once he started feeling any kind of pleasure. Then his attention would almost certainly waver.

Trying not to think about what it might take to distract him long enough to make a move, Stef tugged Lena closer and whispered, "I'm so sorry, love. _So _sorry." Her hands went to work removing Lena's dress as she murmured a string of quiet apologies, efficiently stripping her nude despite the tears streaming down her face and the obvious unwillingness in her eyes. "It'll be okay," Stef breathed, close to Lena's ear. "Listen to me. _I will make this okay_."

As soon as they were both bare-skinned, the man shifted his aim from Stef to Lena. Stomach bottoming out, Stef maneuvered herself between them, shielding Lena with her body. "You don't need to point that thing at us," Stef pleaded. "We'll do whatever you say. I promise."

"I know you will." Clearly enjoying the power he wielded over them, he gave the gun a lazy wiggle and smirked. "Kiss each other. Play with each other's titties. Show me how dykes make each other wet."

Stef swallowed her revulsion and turned to Lena with a silent plea in her eyes. It killed her to ask Lena to go along with this, but she didn't know what else to do. "Love—"

Lena surprised her by stepping forward and wrapping her up in a tight, desperate hug. The embrace was anything but seductive, but it signaled that Lena understood very well that their only option was to obey. Stef kissed Lena fiercely, briefly and with tears in her eyes, before pulling back and placing a tentative hand on her breast. Then she bent on the pretense of kissing Lena's neck, but positioned her lips close to her ear instead.

"We can't let him wake the kids," Stef whispered. "No shouting, whatever happens."

Lena's hands roamed nervously over her bare back. They were shaking so hard that Stef's stomach clenched in instinctive reaction to her wife's fear and pain. Lena breathed, "Stef, don't do anything stupid."

Despite their dire circumstance, Stef had to suppress a smile. Lena knew her too well. "I'll do whatever I have to."

Apparently not content with their halfhearted fumbling, the man broke into their illusory moment of solitude with a loud bark. "Hey! Stop whispering like schoolgirls and start giving me a show. Unless you just want to start the main event now."

Stef cringed at the volume of his voice. What would the kids do if they woke up? Knock on the door to check on them? Call the police? She honestly had no clue, and the idea scared the hell out of her. In a low, urgent voice, she said, "Okay! Okay." Without thinking of anything except keeping him from raising his voice again, Stef grabbed Lena around the waist and bent to suck on the breast closest to her mouth.

Lena gasped in surprise and wobbled unsteadily in her arms. She braced her hands on Stef's shoulders, almost as though pushing her away. Almost. She stood stiffly within Stef's embrace, barely reacting as Stef licked a path from one nipple to the other. Her heart was thumping so hard that Stef could feel its rapid drumbeat against her lips. She closed her eyes, horrified by her role in her wife's violation.

"There, that's a little better." Though he'd returned to a normal volume, Stef still flinched when the man spoke. "Good girl, blondie." He paused, then said, "You, cocoa, what's your name?"

The body beneath her lips went almost entirely rigid. "Lena."

Stef had never heard so much anger and resentment in her wife's voice before. Or fear. She raised her eyes to check Lena's face, never faltering from the task for which she'd just been praised. For the first time since they'd met, Stef could honestly say that her wife was impossible to read. More than anything so far, that scared the hell out of her. The love of her life was at the mercy of a rapist who seemed to have taken a specific, racially-tinged interest in her. She knew that if she didn't woman up and gain the upper hand—_soon_—she would never forgive herself. _Ever_.

"Lena." He drew the name out, made it sound somehow perverse. "Pretty name for a very pretty lady. Lena, why don't you lie down on the bed and let your friend eat your pussy for me?"

Stef's throat went dry. She straightened, wiping her lips with the back of her hand while she gathered the courage to meet Lena's eyes. Absolute shame reflected back at her. Stef glanced over her shoulder, dismayed to see the gun pointed at Lena, the man's eyes locked coldly on hers. While he'd obviously taken a liking to her wife, he seemed to regard Stef with suspicion. She wondered if he knew she was a cop. Maybe he just sensed that of the two of them, she was more likely to give him trouble. She really didn't want him to think that way. If he thought she posed any kind of threat, he might decide to knock her out or tie her up—or worse.

She had to play up her very real terror. Just enough to look weak, to let him know that she was firmly under his control and posed no threat. Once she'd lulled him into a false sense of security, he would drop his guard.

She hoped.

Stef raised her hands into the air, playing up their shaking. "All right. Whatever you want."

"You've got that right." He grinned broadly, then clucked his tongue as his eyes roamed her body. "What I want is for you to get that sweet chocolate pussy ready for my big, hard dick. You think you can do that for daddy?"

Stef couldn't stop the disgust from sweeping across her face. Luckily, it seemed to amuse him more than anything—until he aimed the gun at Stef's head and the smile died on his lips. Sensing that his patience was wearing thin, Stef faced the bed, almost relieved to find Lena already sitting on the edge. Without breaking eye contact, she knelt on the floor in front of Lena, then very slowly placed her hands on tense, tightly-closed thighs.

"Please," Stef murmured. She hated asking Lena to open her legs, but she feared what would happen if they didn't perform. As long as she was touching Lena, _he_ wasn't. Right now that was all that mattered. Applying gentle pressure to each leg, she pushed Lena's knees apart. "Just close your eyes. Pretend we're somewhere else."

Lena wore an expression of utter defeat as she lie back and spread her legs. Her chest rose and fell in a deep, shuddering exhalation, and then she seemed to stop breathing altogether. Hating herself for participating in something so degrading, even under duress, Stef didn't allow herself to think as she leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on top of the trimmed thatch of wiry hair between her wife's thighs. It was an instinctive gesture, the very same kiss she gave Lena each and every time she was allowed to feast on her like this. As soon as she did it, she regretted it. Now even that—a loving tradition that had begun their very first night in bed together—would be tainted.

Afraid to let the assault too closely mimic their regular lovemaking, Stef wasted no time drawing her tongue up the length of Lena's sex. She was damp, but barely—a remnant of their evening before it all went to hell, no doubt. Hating to even think it, Stef pressed in deeper, not wanting Lena to be dry if the worst came to pass. She sensed more than heard Lena crying above her and reached up blindly, hoping to find and hold her hand. When she couldn't locate her fingers, she assumed that Lena was hiding her face so she wouldn't have to see him watching.

She'd never hated anyone so fiercely in her entire life. Given even the slightest opportunity, she was going to kill this son of a bitch.

"What's wrong, Lena?" The man's tone was mocking. "Blondie not very good?" Stef cringed when Lena sniffled. "Wishing for a man instead?"

"No." Lena delivered the refusal in a surprisingly even voice. "I don't want a man."

"Well, that's too bad, 'cause you're about to get one." Stef heard him take a step closer to her back and had to force herself not to move. If she moved, he might try to take her place. "You ever had a cock before?"

This time Lena didn't answer. After a prolonged silence, the man snorted derisively. "Fucking dykes."

Stef concentrated on the pressure and movement of her tongue. Not too fast—she didn't want to risk triggering an orgasm in the midst of this fucked up situation—and not too hard—because too much pressure physically overwhelmed Lena, and that was the very last thing she wanted her to feel. She raised her eyes as much as she could, desperate for even a brief moment of connection with her wife. Even knowing it would shatter her heart into a million pieces, she wanted to see those familiar brown eyes. She _needed_ to. Unfortunately, Lena stared up at the ceiling, her arms shielding her face.

"What's your girlfriend's name, Lena?" Stef felt the vibration of his heavy steps as he walked close behind where she knelt.

Lena hesitated. "Stef."

"Stef." He repeated the name like it was a slur. "Spread your legs and show me what you've got." As Stef hesitantly complied, he said in a light sing-song voice, "Come on, ladies, work a little harder to excite me. I thought lesbians were supposed to be sexy. To be honest, I'm getting bored."

Stef set her knees apart on the carpet and arched her back slightly, posing. He was now so close to her that she could feel the disturbance in the air when he moved. She gave in to temptation and lifted her head, unable to resist the urge to look behind her. It was killing her not to be able to see what he was going to do. As soon as she turned, a strong hand locked onto her head and forced her face into Lena's crotch, holding her there so tightly that for a moment, she couldn't breathe. Before she could struggle away, he penetrated her hard and fast with what she guessed was at least three fingers. Unable to stop her cry of pain at the violation, she was almost glad that Lena's body was beneath her to muffle the scream.

Lena sat up quickly, partially dislodging Stef from her position. "Stop!" The fingers inside her twisted and pushed and pulled, unrelenting in their brutality. Tears gathered in Stef's eyes as she shook her head at Lena, who was already reaching out as though to push her rapist away. "Stop that, please!"

The fingers withdrew as quickly as they'd been introduced, leaving Stef nauseated with agony. Her own distress was forgotten the instant the man leaned over her back and crashed his hand into Lena's face, knocking her flat onto the mattress. Surging forward, her rapist suddenly hovered over her wife, his gun pressed against her forehead. Stef froze, afraid to breathe when one wrong move could mean losing the woman she loved. Drawing back his lips in an exaggerated snarl, the man stared directly into Lena's eyes. "Bitch, you don't _ever_ tell me what to do." His nostrils flared as he loomed over her, his breathing becoming progressively more rapid as silence stretched out between them. "Tell me you're sorry."

"I'm sorry." Lena met his stare, seemingly unable to look away. "Very sorry."

The tension in the air was excruciating. Stef knew that the time to act was running out fast. He was angry at Lena now, and he wanted her, and Stef was literally the only thing between them. Unwilling to take any risks while he had the gun against Lena's head, she knew she had to bring his attention back to her. Swallowing the bile that rose at the thought of angering him further, she said, "Please, she's sorry."

He dragged his eyes away from Lena and gave Stef a smug, self-satisfied grin. Then he seized Stef's chin with his free hand before moving the muzzle of the gun from Lena's forehead to hers. Relief skittered up her spine, chased quickly by fear. With a cruel sneer in Lena's direction, he said, "How sorry?" Before Stef could pull away, he forced her jaw open and shoved his gun so far down her throat that she gagged. Easing back slightly, he gave her room to breathe without taking the weapon out of her mouth. "Should I just blow her head off right now?"

Lena sobbed. "Please, I'll do whatever you want. Just don't!"

Tears leaked from the corners of Stef's eyes as she stared up into the man's hard face. For the span of a few seconds that seemed to stretch on forever, she was paralyzed with fear. She was helpless. There was literally nothing she could do except wait and see if he decided to kill her. It seemed like hours passed before he relaxed. Seemingly amused, he twisted the gun in her mouth, pressing the tip against the inside of her cheek in a gesture that she knew was obscene even without seeing the cruel smirk it produced on his otherwise blank face. "Don't worry. I'm not planning to waste a mouth like Stef's here. Especially not when it upsets you _so_ much to see me paying attention to her." He never took his eyes away from Stef's face as he slowly moved the gun in and out of her mouth in a pantomime of oral sex. "But there's no reason to be jealous, Lena. Blondes aren't really my type—I'll just use her to get ready for you."

He shifted his gaze to Lena, briefly, then stared back down at Stef. "Take out my cock."

Stef cursed her pale complexion and the way her cheeks always betrayed shame and embarrassment. Refusal wasn't an option, but it still took effort to force her hands up to the button on his jeans. She could see from the bulge between his legs that he was already at least partially aroused. The thought of touching his penis caused her visceral disgust—the idea of taking it into her mouth made her stomach churn. She tried to swallow past the lump in her throat as she clumsily worked open the button, then lowered the zipper. Once she had his pants open she hesitated, desperately not wanting to take the next step.

"Come on, now." He slipped the gun out of her mouth, then drew the tip along her jaw line. "Don't be afraid."

She _was_ afraid. At the same time, she knew that he was about to make himself at least somewhat vulnerable. If she was ever going to get the chance to get the jump on him, this might be it. Taking a deep breath, she reached into his underwear and took his hardening penis into her hand, pulling it out without looking. He grabbed a handful of her hair and yanked her head back so that she had no choice to look up into his eyes—and at the erection now just inches from her face. The gun resumed its position pressed against the top of her skull.

"If I feel like you're even _thinking_ of biting down, I'll make Lena absolutely miserable while I fuck every one of her holes. _All fucking night._ Do you understand?"

Stef nodded quickly. Of course she'd thought about biting him. She was _still_ thinking about it. Part of her wasn't entirely sure she would be able to stop herself from doing it on instinct. But as he'd declared the consequences so graphically, she couldn't—she _wouldn't_—unless she was sure it would lead to their freedom. "I understand."

"Good." He brought his hips forward, releasing her hair so he could take hold of his penis and rub the tip over the side of her face. "Ask for it."

Cheeks burning, Stef whispered, "May I have it?"

He slapped her with the sticky head of his cock, not painfully, then again, with slightly more force. "Say, 'Please put your cock in my mouth, daddy.'"

Stef flinched. That kind of roleplay caused her such gut-level disgust that she doubted she could say the words. "Please…"

When she hesitated, he pressed his weapon hard against her skull. "You want my cock or the gun? Your choice."

She had to stay alive. She had to do this. Licking her lips, Stef rasped, "Please put your cock in my mouth…daddy."

Grinning, he pressed the tip of his erection against her parted lips. "Open up, baby."

_It's not a big deal_, Stef told herself silently, closing her eyes and taking him into her mouth. _It's just like Mike. Exactly like it used to be with Mike._ That was a lie, of course. Mike had never held a gun to her head. He'd never forced himself down her throat. He hadn't been this…big. Gagging, Stef struggled with all her might to keep her mouth wide open and her lips curled over her teeth. Her jaw ached with the effort. The mighty groan from above her signaled the deep pleasure he was taking at her suffering.

"That's daddy's good girl." He let go of his cock, once again using his free hand to grab a fistful of her hair. Forcing himself impossibly deeper down her throat, he chuckled when she retched and nearly vomited. Pulling back slightly, he kept her head in the vice-like prison between his gun and his cruel, clawing hand, holding her steady. He gazed down upon her and for the first time, his eyes were genuinely smiling. "Doesn't she look pretty like this, Lena?"

"Yes." Lena's whisper barely registered—Stef's senses had started to muddy. "But please, I don't think she can breathe."

"She can breathe." Then, suddenly, two fingers pinched her nostrils shut. "_Now_ she can't breathe."

Stef's hands shot up and braced against his upper thighs as she fought not to struggle or, worse yet, bite down. Despite all her fervent hopes, her less-than-skillful blowjob hadn't caused his gun hand to waver an inch. All her focus turned inward, on not passing out, not clamping her jaw shut, not trying to knock his hand away from her nose. It would be a mistake. She knew it would. If she could just please him— Her vision dimmed, and she squirmed desperately, trying to get away.

A crashing sound from downstairs barely registered through her panic, but it provided enough of a distraction that the muzzle of the gun finally left the side of her head, and his fingers loosened in her hair. Straining to look up, Stef saw him his head turn to look toward the bedroom door. There was a split-second in which she knew she had a decision to make, and then she was yanking her head back while biting down with all the force in her aching jaw. At the same time, she threw her arm into the air and swung at his gun hand with every bit of her flagging strength. She felt her teeth sink into muscle, felt the tearing flesh, tasted the coppery tang of blood pouring over her tongue. Her fist knocked the gun away from her head, and—stunningly—sent it clattering onto the floor. Shocked—and still dizzy from the lack of oxygen—Stef remained on her knees in front of him, transfixed by the sight of the damage she'd caused.

Face twisted with rage, he roared and grabbed for her hair an instant after she came to her senses. Scrabbling across the floor, she picked up the gun and rolled onto her back, taking careful aim. Her finger found the trigger without hesitation.

That's when their bedroom door banged open. "Police! Freeze!"

Stef's finger stilled on the trigger. She'd been so close. One more millisecond and she would've applied enough pressure to shoot her rapist in the head. It would have been self-defense. Justified. But as soon as her colleagues announced themselves and he collapsed to his knees, cursing as he cradled his ruined penis, firing on him would mean a potential murder charge. Stef pulled her finger off the trigger and dropped the gun, afraid to hold it any longer for fear that she'd use it. She watched the scene unfolding in front of her as though it was happening to someone else, somewhere far away. A uniformed officer pressed her rapist to the floor and cuffed his wrists behind his back. His partner—Renee Dixon, whom she knew from the academy—moved into her bedroom, gun raised, taking everything in through watchful eyes.

"Stef."

The frantic, tearful voice from the bed snapped her back into reality. Dimly aware of the fact that she was completely naked in front of co-workers, she reached for the laundry hamper full of clean clothes that they'd left near the chest of drawers, blindly pulling on the first oversized T-shirt she could find. She grabbed another two handfuls of clothing, randomly, and staggered to her feet and over to Lena, who sat up on the bed with their comforter now wrapped around her shivering body. It took everything Stef had not to burst into tears at the sight of her wife, face bruised but otherwise uninjured. "My love."

At least that's what she tried to say. What came out was a harsh rasp, then a choking cough that triggered renewed nausea. Her throat was raw, her jaw quivered. She dropped the clean clothes on the bed and brought her hand to her mouth, startled when it came away slick and red with blood. Lifting her gaze, Stef finally registered the full scale of the horror on Lena's face at the sight of her. She obviously looked as monstrous as she felt. Though she wanted nothing more than to gather Lena into her arms and weep with relief that they were both alive and relatively unharmed, she held back, not wanting to traumatize her further.

"Mom?"

The tentative, tearful voice at the bedroom door sent Stef's heart racing. She turned to look before she could stop herself—noticing for the first time that the officer had taken the perp out of the room—and saw Callie's eyes widen as she took in the scene. Turning her back to Callie to hide her bloody face, Stef held up her hand and mustered her best light-hearted voice. "Give us a minute, sweet girl. We're all right, I promise." Though her voice was still rough, at least she got the words out this time.

Lena's eyes shimmered with tears both shed and unshed as she nodded in agreement. "Callie, sweetheart, please make sure Mariana and Jesus are okay? We'll come talk to you in a few minutes."

Stef watched her wife's face until she could tell that Callie had gone. Then she sat down hard on the bed, not sure she had the will to keep standing. Lena's hand shot out and caught hers, squeezing hard. Turning her face so Lena wouldn't see, she murmured, "Are you all right?"

It was such a stupid question that she nearly laughed in the awkward silence that followed. But when Lena's arm wrapped around her middle, holding her gently, she realized how badly she needed the reassurance. Lena murmured, "We will be."

Officer Dixon—Renee—cleared her throat, alerting Stef to her presence. "Ma'am…"

Gathering her dignity, Stef turned and looked her colleague directly in the eyes. "Renee, would it be all right if I cleaned up? Just my face. I don't want…" She paused, almost certain she was finally going to give in to the urge to vomit. "I don't want my kids to see me like this."

"Of course, Stef." Renee's eyes softened. Stef hated the way she was looking at her. Like she was just another victim. "Go ahead. I can take your statements here or at the hospital, whatever you prefer." She paused. "Just tell me what I can do to make this easier, and I will."

"Well, I wouldn't be opposed to a little police brutality right now." At the hesitant way Renee reacted, Stef forced a pained grin and stood with effort. "I kid, I kid."

Renee's expression hardened as Stef took a limping step toward the bathroom. "Don't worry. I promise that we'll do everything we can to make sure that asshole goes away for a long time."

Wishing she felt the kind of bravado Renee's words would have normally inspired, she nonetheless forced a smile of agreement and tried not to wince at the pain between her legs as she walked stiff-legged around the bed. "Damn straight. He broke into the wrong house."

Lena caught her hand before she could get too far away. "Stef…"

There was a world of pain and worry in Lena's quiet recitation of her name. She wasn't in any position to deal with it right now. Not with his blood still in her mouth. Without looking back, Stef squeezed Lena's hand and then let go. "I'm all right. I need to get cleaned up."

The silence that stretched between them felt louder than anything. "I love you," Lena said.

Stef remembered the fear in her eyes—when she'd undressed her, when she'd licked her, down to that moment when she saw Stef's blood-covered face—and she worried. "I love you, too." Then, gritting her teeth, she escaped to the bathroom as quickly as her shaking legs would take her.

#

When she emerged what had to be at least five minutes later, Lena was sitting on the bed dressed in a pair of flannel pajamas, knees pulled up to her chest. She hugged her legs, looking so much like a lost little girl that all of the self-pity, anger, and hurt that Stef had been feeling for herself while washing the blood and cum out of her mouth and off her face dissolved, replaced by only one thought. Her love, who had just been physically and sexually assaulted. Her love, who was frightened and in pain.

"Lena." Grateful when her voice came out somewhat normal, Stef approached the bed slowly. Fresh tears were streaming down Lena's face, though she wiped them away quickly as soon as Stef said her name. From Renee's proximity next to her and the digital recorder that sat between them, it was obvious that she was in the middle of giving her statement. "Honey, you don't have to do this now if you don't want to."

Renee gave them both a kind smile. "Actually, I think we're good." To Lena, she murmured, "If I have any questions later, I'll let you know."

Stef's stomach turned over at the knowledge that Renee knew exactly what had happened—at least from Lena's perspective. "Okay." She looked at Lena, who held out her hand in invitation. Stef sank down onto the bed, trying not to react to the searing pain when she sat. Wanting to focus on anything except her own injuries, she reached out to touch the bruise that was forming on Lena's cheek, but let her hand hover just inches away. "He really got you."

"Mrs. Adams Foster has declined medical attention," Renee said, reverting to formality. "I recommended that she go to the hospital to get looked at, but she said he didn't touch her."

Stef frowned, pinning Lena with an accusatory stare. "He used her face as a punching bag. He most _certainly_ touched you."

"He hit me, yes, but otherwise, he didn't lay a hand on me." Lena's throat jumped and her nostrils flared as another torrent of tears threatened. Mind racing over the events of the evening, Stef was amazed to realize that she was kind of right. "You protected me."

Shamed by the knowledge that she really hadn't, Stef looked away sharply. She'd let him into the house, after all. She wanted to argue that he'd obviously copped a feel at the front door, and knocked her around, and terrorized the living hell out of her, but it seemed cruel to remind Lena of all she'd just endured. Instead she just said, "Still, it wouldn't hurt to get checked out."

"I don't want to leave the kids," Lena said quietly. "It's the middle of the night, I know they're scared…I just want to stay here with them. Please."

She couldn't exactly argue with that. "All right." Trying to imagine how exactly they were supposed to carry on with their lives, Stef mustered the courage to look Lena in the eyes. "I'm staying with you."

Lena's expression tensed. "Stef, you have to go."

Shaking her head, Stef said, "I don't want to leave you, either. Any of you."

"Stef…" Lena's gaze darted over to Renee, then returned to her. "Sweetheart, he raped you."

Stef recoiled at the word. "No," she said, a little more forcefully than she'd intended. "He _didn't_." She looked sharply at Renee, who glanced away. "He forced me to perform oral sex. We saw how that turned out for him."

"And he penetrated you with his fingers," Lena said slowly. She took Stef's hand between both of hers, raising it to her face to kiss her knuckles. Her brown eyes brimmed with still more tears. Would there ever be an end to those tears? "He hurt you, baby, I know he did." Her voice caught. "I _felt_ it."

When Lena dissolved into racking sobs, Stef had no choice but to drop her guard and cuddle her close. She buried her face in wild, dark curls, trying to shut the rest of the world out. Quietly, she murmured, "All right, my love. It's okay. I'm all right, honey, and if I have to go to the hospital to prove it to you, I will."

Lena's hands clutched tightly at her back, seeming to betray her desire that Stef leave. So she didn't, not yet.

#

They decided to talk to their babies together, before Stef left. She didn't want Lena to be faced with such an unpleasant task alone. Besides, she wanted to be able to put her arms around her children and assure herself that they were safe. She wasn't sure she could bring herself to leave the house otherwise.

The three of them sat in a row on the edge of Jesus's bed, their eyes wide, dark, and serious. Callie looked downright haunted. She sat between the twins, head down, looking almost catatonic. Stef knew exactly how she felt, even if she was more skilled at not letting it show. Mariana's and Jesus's eyes were both red and swollen from the tears they'd obviously cried before she and Lena had felt prepared enough to come speak to them.

As soon as Stef stepped into the room, Jesus leapt to his feet. "Moms, I'm _so_ _sorry_. I should have been there. I didn't even _hear_ him—"

Stef shushed her son as she crossed the room to pull him into her arms. "No, my baby, no. I'm _glad_ you didn't. I wouldn't have wanted any of you to try and get involved." She drew back from her embrace with Jesus so she could look at her girls. She noticed that Lena was now sitting on the bed, cradling a weeping Mariana in her arms. "Do you understand? All of you, it's good that you weren't there. That's the only thing that got us through it—knowing you were safe."

Mariana sobbed louder. "I wanted to…I was gonna—"

"Shh," Lena rubbed Mariana's back, rocking her like the baby they'd never had the pleasure to meet. "Calm down, sweetie, and breathe. Just breathe."

"But I _did_ hear…you—and Mom—_yelling_. Like something was…" Mariana hiccuped. "Was wrong. And I…I was gonna…get up and go check but Callie…" Shuddering, Mariana buried her face in Lena's shoulder. "Callie…"

Still holding onto Jesus, Stef looked over to Callie for clarification. Looking as though she was in a daze, the dark-haired girl raised her eyes to meet Stef's. "I told her we needed to lock ourselves in the bathroom and call 911." Her voice came out flat, with no inflection. "Old habits."

Stef cringed at how world-weary her sixteen-year-old daughter could seem. At the same time, her heart filled with so much love she thought it might burst. "Thank you, my sweet, sweet Callie. That was _absolutely_ the right thing to do."

Lena cooed, "And thank you for hearing us. You saved us."

Jesus stared intently at Lena, then turned his attention to Stef's face. She took a step back, feeling self-conscious about the examination. She'd washed up, but she still felt fundamentally unclean. Her son's dark eyes flashed with anger. "What did he do to you?"

The reassuring smile Stef had been forcing herself to wear became harder to maintain. "He just roughed us up a little bit. Unfortunately, your mama will probably have a black eye and I'm going to be a little sore for a few days, but the police got here before he caused any major damage. Okay?" She looked around at her babies, all too aware that Callie looked wholly unconvinced. "Your mama is going to stay with you while I go talk to the police, all right?" Given the skeptical way all her children were looking at her, she refused to admit that she had injuries that merited a visit to the hospital. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

They each nodded, Jesus's eyes swimming with concern, Mariana with her head still buried in Lena's neck, and Callie, who looked as though she wanted to say something to Stef, but couldn't. Aware that she would need to have a private, serious talk with Callie at some point in the near future, Stef forced herself to turn to leave. If she didn't go now, she wasn't sure she would be able to will herself into walking away. She just wanted to get this next part over with.

"I love you, my babies." Stef glanced back once when she reached the door, pained by the sight of her family staring after her with such sad, lost eyes. "Lena, I'm going to call Mike and have him come over while I'm gone. Okay?"

To her surprise, Lena didn't even hesitate. "Yes."

#

When Stef got home from the hospital over two hours later, the dark sky was just beginning to hint at dawn. She let herself into the house quietly, not wanting to wake anyone who had managed to fall asleep. She hoped everyone had. Even though she'd called and asked him to come, she was still a little surprised to find Mike sitting on the couch in the living room, wide awake and clearly on edge.

"Stef." He jumped up, keeping his voice low. "How are you?" When she gave him a tired, sarcastic smirk, he said, "I mean…are you okay?"

"I'm fine." She set her purse by the door and walked slowly to the foot of the staircase. "I'm exhausted. Do you mind if I go upstairs?"

"No, of course not." He didn't bother to conceal the fact that he was scanning her body up and down, probably looking for visible injuries. "B is sleeping in his room. I think Lena is with the other kids in the girls' bedroom."

"Okay, thank you." She paused. "You can go home if you'd like."

"No," he said, settling back down onto the couch. "I think I'll stay, if you don't mind."

Stef couldn't help but smile at the concern he tried to hide. Normally she would be offended at the thought that she needed any man—especially her ex-husband—for anything. At the moment, however, it was comforting to have a trained cop with a gun crashing on their couch. "I don't mind." She took the first step cautiously, breathing deep as pain flared through her lower body. The doctor had confirmed that he'd torn her in two places and had stitched up one. Just the thought of the examination brought tears to her eyes. Rather than thank Mike again as she'd intended, she climbed the stairs as fast as her injuries allowed, wanting to get out of sight. She'd accepted a prescription for painkillers from the doctor, figuring Lena might need them, but she was tempted to take one herself. Each searing twinge reminded her of what he'd done to her, right there while Lena watched.

She was so wrapped up in her memories that the shadowy figure in the upstairs hallway didn't register until she was nearly on top of it. She gasped, flinching away in shock. Then she realized that the shadow was Callie, and that she looked positively guilt-ridden about the fact that she'd caused such a scare. "Mom!" Callie whispered. "It's just me, I'm sorry, I…I couldn't sleep."

Heart racing, Stef nodded slowly and tried to calm her breathing so her voice would come out steady. "And the others?"

"They're in Mariana and my room. Mama is sleeping with Mariana in her bed, and Jesus decided to sleep on the floor." She waited a beat, then said, "Brandon is here, too. In his room."

"Yeah, Mike told me." Stef waited to see what else Callie would say, curious if her reticent girl was actually going to initiate a heart-to-heart. Normally she would be thrilled by the prospect, but right now it was getting more and more difficult to stay on her feet. "Sweetheart, we can talk if you need to, but I really need to take a painkiller and sit down."

"Of course!" Callie stepped to the side, glancing at her closed bedroom door. "You can sleep in my bed, if you want. I, uh…I don't think I can right now. Sleep."

The sweet offer sent a burst of very welcome warmth through Stef's body. She managed a genuine smile. "To be honest, I'm not sure I can sleep, either."

Callie looked visibly relieved. "I changed your sheets." She hesitated. "On your bed." Her wide, dark eyes searched Stef's face. For what, she wasn't sure. "I didn't think you'd want to go back in there until they were gone. And I didn't want Lena to have to do it."

Stef blinked back the emotion that came to the front at Callie's thoughtfulness. "Thank you, my darling."

"I threw the old ones away." Callie met her eyes. "That was okay, right?"

Concerned that Callie knew _something_ had happened, but not exactly what, Stef said, "That was perfect." She took Callie's hand. "Come talk to me while I get a glass of water?"

Callie nodded gratefully. "I'd like that."

Stef led Callie into their bedroom, trying not to think about what had just played out there only hours before. Unless they were prepared to sell the house and move, she was going to have to overcome the fear and disgust she felt in this place—now was as good a time as any. She needed to cling to all the good memories she had here, in their sanctuary. She had to heal so they could make new ones. At the sight of a towel laid out on the carpet near the foot of the bed, Stef's throat tightened and a small, pained noise escaped. She knew exactly what it was hiding.

"I tried to clean up the blood as best as I could, but…" Callie dropped her hand and stepped between Stef and the towel, arms folded protectively over her stomach. "I'm sorry, I didn't want you to have to see that."

Tears spilled from both eyes, and Stef cursed. She hadn't wanted to cry, but her daughter was going to make that impossible. She was just too perfect. Wordlessly, Stef stepped forward and pulled Callie into a tight hug. She kissed the top of her head, squeezed her, then released her so she could dry her eyes. "Have I mentioned lately how lucky we are to have you as our daughter?"

Callie's cheeks turned pink and she broke eye contact. "I'm the lucky one."

Hesitant to walk away from such an intimate moment but more than ready for some pain relief, Stef started to hobble toward the bathroom. She stopped short when Callie raced past her, glancing over her shoulder when she got to the door. "Sit down. Do you need anything more than a glass of water?"

"No." As uncomfortable as she was with this vague role-reversal, Stef was too sore to protest. "Thank you." She looked around the bedroom, trying to decide where to go. What she really wanted was to lie down. And yet the last thing in the world that she wanted to do was lie down.

"It was hard for me, too."

She startled when Callie spoke from behind her. Turning, she accepted the glass of water that was offered. "What was, sweetie?"

"Lying in my bed at the Olmstead's." Callie shifted her weight from one foot to the other, her gaze darting nervously around the room. "After what happened with Liam."

Not entirely comfortable with the parallel Callie was drawing, she nonetheless realized that this was a delicate subject. "I'm sorry you had to go through that, my darling."

"I'm sorry you're going through this." Callie's dark eyes found hers and held steady.

"It's all right." After a brief struggle, Stef managed to get the childproof top off the bottle of painkillers. She lowered herself slowly onto the edge of the mattress, trying not to betray her discomfort. "Better me than your mama. Or one of my babies." Smiling bravely, she tossed a pill into her mouth and tipped her head back to take a sip of water. Something about the sensation of the tablet on the back of her tongue and the liquid splashing against her throat triggered her gag reflex. She retched, bringing up the pill and the mouthful of water, then coughed harshly, setting off an excruciating pain between her legs.

Callie sat down beside her and carefully wrapped an arm around her middle. Stef fought the urge to collapse into her embrace. Instead she used Callie's presence to bolster her strength. Inhaling deeply, she breathed through the pain and willed herself to stop coughing. Spotting the pill on the carpet, she bent slowly to grab it, then gave Callie a grateful nod when she beat her to it. "Thank you."

Callie tossed the pill into the trash can and picked up the bottle, opening it easily. "Do you want to try again?"

"Only because that hurt so much." Stef grinned, trying to convey a levity she just didn't feel. Holding out her hand, she said, "I think it just went down the wrong way."

Callie frowned as she sat back down on the bed. "I had trouble swallowing things for a little while, too. After Liam made me…he made me…"

Stef closed her eyes, not wanting to think about her daughter in the same position she'd been earlier. "Callie—"

"I saw him when the police took him away. The blood." Callie's tremulous voice sliced into her heart. "Your…mouth." She fell silent and Stef tried to think what to say, but before she could, Callie murmured, "You bit him."

She wanted to deny it. Wanted to pretend that it had never happened, and that more importantly, Callie didn't know. That Lena had never seen. But what kind of role model was she if she couldn't be honest about something so painfully obvious? "Yes, baby, I did."

Callie lifted her arm, waited until Stef saw her and nodded, then wrapped it around Stef's back once again. "That's pretty badass, you know." She rested her cheek against Stef's shoulder, once again a girl seeking comfort from her mother instead of the other way around. "I wish I had."

Relaxing slightly, Stef returned the one-armed hug and kissed the top of Callie's head. "Well, I try." Taking a deep breath, she took a tentative sip of water. She tried not to overreact to the liquid sliding down her throat, the brief sensation of not being able to breathe. Then she took another sip. A third. Once she was fairly convinced she wouldn't embarrass herself a second time, she placed the new pill in her mouth and swallowed. As soon as it was down, her body went boneless with relief.

Without saying anything, Callie took the glass of water and put it on the nightstand.

Although deeply touched by Callie's concern, Stef worried about the impact tonight's events would have on her. What additional burden she would carry, knowing that her mother had been violated in the bedroom next to hers? She hated for any of her children to be aware of something so horrific. Stef cleared her throat. "What you saw…please don't tell the other kids, all right? If you need to talk to someone, you can talk to me or Lena, or a therapist, but…" Callie's dark eyes were so intense she finally had to look away. "I don't want to upset them any more than they already are." She forced a weak smile. "All right?"

Callie stared at her seriously. "I would never tell anyone about _anything_ we talk about." She blinked, clearly battling her own demons as she searched haltingly for what to say. "It's not easy to talk about, and it's not…it's not something you want everyone to know. I understand."

Stef felt a renewed spark of anger about the uselessness of Callie's court appearance, and everything she'd been put through after her rape—being forced to bare her soul to a roomful of grown-ups, then not seeing any justice in return. Callie understood all too well, and then some. Callie understood things women twice her age should never be expected to understand. Callie was tough as hell. Stef nodded. "I know you do."

"Did he…" Callie hesitated, and even though Stef knew what she wanted to ask, she didn't fill in the blank. She couldn't. Swallowing, Callie whispered, "Mom, did he rape you?"

She wanted to deny it, just as she had in front of Lena and Renee Dixon. But she couldn't bring herself to lie again—not to Callie, or herself. "Not with his…" She waited for Callie to nod, indicating she understood. "He put his fingers inside me. It was violent. That's why I hurt."

Tears had been gathering in Callie's eyes as she spoke, and on her last word, they spilled over. "I'm so sorry. We should've called sooner…we listened for a minute trying to decide…at first Mariana thought maybe it was your TV…"

"No, baby, no." Pulling Callie into a tight hug, Stef rocked her back and forth, ignoring the twinges of pain in her body. "You did _everything_ right. You saved us. You protected your sister. If she'd knocked on our door…" She couldn't let herself go there. "If you hadn't called the police, if they hadn't made noise on their way in and distracted him when they did…" She shivered, not wanting to go there, either. "No, Callie, you were a real heroine tonight. Understand? _Our heroine._"

Callie sniffled, face buried in her shoulder. "Did he rape Lena?"

Stef shook her head forcefully. "_No_. I swear."

Nodding, Callie whispered, "Good." Her whole body shuddered. "Good."

Giving the girl a gentle squeeze, Stef released Callie and looked her in the eyes. Callie stared back. "I'm going to be okay, Callie. Do you believe me?"

Callie nodded. "Yes."

"You're going to be okay, too."

Callie surprised her with a genuine smile. "I know."

Seeing Callie's smile made it easier to produce a real one of her own. "I'm glad to hear you say that."

"I'm going to be okay because I have you and Lena." A characteristic wave of shy awkwardness pulled Callie's attention to her lap, where she played with her fingers. "I'm okay because Jude has a family who loves him and will treat him right."

Stef pulled her into another embrace. "We love both of you, very much." They sat that way for a couple minutes, until Stef realized just how uncomfortable she was. As much as she hated the thought of lying in the bed where she'd assaulted Lena, she _really_ wanted to find a position where she wouldn't have to be reminded of her torn vagina. Wincing, Stef said, "Callie, honey, I know I said I didn't think I could sleep, but I do think I need to lie down."

Sniffing, Callie pulled away and wiped the tears from her eyes. "Of course. Here?"

She briefly considered the idea of crashing in Jesus and Jude's room, but she didn't want the kids to wake up and find her there. They would know that she wasn't as all right as she planned to make them think she was. "Yeah." She crawled over to her half of the bed, carefully lowering herself onto her side. It took at least a minute after she stopped moving to recognize that she was indeed more comfortable than she had been while upright. Gazing across the bed at Callie, who watched her tentatively, Stef offered a weak smile. "Better."

"Do you want to be alone?"

It was clear from the quaver in Callie's voice that _she_ didn't want solitude right now, and as it turned out, neither did Stef. "Not really." She held out her hand. "Want to join me?"

Callie barely hesitated before taking Stef's hand. She curled up on her side in Lena's spot so that they were face-to-face, their joined hands on the mattress between them. Callie rubbed her thumb over Stef's knuckles, then murmured, "You can close your eyes if you want. I'll be right here."

As much as she worried about leaving Callie alone with her thoughts, Stef realized that it was getting more and more difficult to stay awake. The events of the night along with the alcohol she'd consumed at dinner and the painkiller that was just beginning to kick in were taking their toll. "I'm sorry, sweets."

"Don't be sorry," Callie said quietly. "Just rest. You've earned it."

The last thing Stef remembered was smiling at how grown-up Callie seemed, and how fiercely she appreciated having her there. After that, she dreamt.

_This time the police didn't come. He didn't get distracted. She wanted to bite down and she was ready to do it, but then she was gasping on the floor and he was somehow, suddenly, on top of Lena. Stef sat up and reached out with her hand just as he thrust his hips violently into her and Lena cried out in pain. She tried to make her legs work but she couldn't stand. All she could do was watch him pounding into her wife, Lena's limbs flailing helplessly as she struggled to get away. Then there was a knock on the door. "Moms?" It was Mariana. Stef clawed at edge of the bed, trying to stand, but it was hopeless. She was useless. She closed her eyes, Mariana's frightened scream echoing in her ears, Lena's sobbing tearing at her heart—_

Stef tore awake with a gasp. The mattress shifted beside her as someone sat down, and she instinctively scrambled away, nearly falling off the bed in her haste. No longer trapped by the paralysis she'd felt moments ago, she was ready to get up and fight.

"Stef!" Lena's voice, low and soothing. "Honey, it was a dream. Just a dream."

A sob caught in Stef's throat as she gave up her struggle. Her entire body hurt. Her head was throbbing and her sex ached. It _hadn't_ been a dream.

"Baby, look at me." When Stef didn't move, still hanging halfway off the bed, Lena touched her shoulder hesitantly. "Stef?"

She couldn't. Images from her nightmare assaulted her, making it hard to catch her breath. She was afraid to look at her wife, afraid of what she'd see. "Lena."

The mattress moved again, and then Lena was there, kneeling on the floor next to her side of the bed. The beautiful mocha skin around her eye was mottled blue and purple, a sight that did nothing to quell the nausea building in Stef's gut. "You're safe, honey. We all are. The kids are downstairs, they're all okay. _I'm_ okay."

Glancing quickly behind her, she noted with relief that Callie was no longer in the room. Glad that she hadn't witnessed the nightmare or its aftermath, Stef asked, "Callie?"

"Downstairs with Jude." Lena placed a cool hand against Stef's cheek, drawing her attention back to her wife's face. "She was in here when I came to check on you earlier. It's obvious that she's really worried about you."

Stef exhaled. "She knows…what he did to me."

Lena blinked in surprise. "Oh."

"She guessed part of it. And she could see that I was in pain, and she asked, so…"

Nodding, Lena murmured, "No, it's good that you were honest. And I mean, Callie…" Lena blinked rapidly, clearly trying to keep control of her emotion. "Well, Callie probably has a better idea about what you're going through than anyone."

Not wanting to dwell on that, Stef asked, "How is Jude? And Brandon?"

"Upset. Scared. Worried." Lena looked as though she were debating something with herself. "When you're up for it, you should go let them see that you're okay. Brandon, especially. It's taken everything Mike and I have to get them to let you sleep this long. They're worried."

Stef nodded resolutely. She had to be strong for her family. Even if she wanted to curl up in a ball and hide away from everything, that wasn't an option. "Okay. You're right." She winced as she carefully eased herself into a sitting position. "Just let me take another painkiller—"

Lena grabbed a glass of water and a pill from her nightstand. She wondered if Callie had left them. Stef accepted the water with a gracious nod, taking a few test sips before attempting to swallow the pill. Lena got into bed next to her as she struggled with it, rubbing a soothing hand over her lower back without saying a word. After Stef managed to keep the pill down, Lena murmured, "Come here and hold me first. They can wait a little longer."

A wave of fear, sadness, and anxiety rose in Stef's throat, nearly undoing all the hard work of forcing the painkiller down. She was horrified at the realization that she was afraid to face her wife. Afraid to talk about what had happened, what it meant, and how they would move forward. But most of all, afraid to find out just how badly she'd failed to protect Lena from the kind of trauma that leaves a permanent mark on one's soul.

"Stef?" Warm fingers brushed against her wrist. "Please, baby. I need to know that we're going to be okay."

Tearfully, Stef turned and lie down once again. She faced Lena but kept her eyes lowered, staring hard at the neckline of the T-shirt Lena was wearing. It was a different one than she'd put on last night after the assault. "I'm so sorry."

"Don't."

Stef shook her head, needing to say the words. "But I am. I'm a fucking _cop_, I should never have let him get the drop on us. I shouldn't have let him into our house, not with the kids upstairs—" When Lena tried to cut her off, she waved away whatever comforting platitude might be offered. She didn't care if she hadn't been dressed for the occasion, or sober. "I shouldn't have let him make me touch you like that. Not like _that_." She took a a few deep, steadying breaths. "I wouldn't blame you…I mean, I'll understand if we can't…if you aren't comfortable with—"

Lena tried to put her fingers on Stef's mouth to stop her talking, but the touch triggered an ugly memory of degradation, and Stef jerked away on instinct. Brown eyes widened in surprise, then understanding, then deep sorrow. It was seeing that look on Lena's face that finally set loose all the rage and grief she'd been battling to suppress since that gun had first been pressed to her head. Horrified at her loss of control, Stef curled inward as giant, racking sobs overtook her, each one causing a fresh wave of agony between her legs.

"Listen to me: you _didn't_ hurt me." This time when Lena pulled her into a hug, Stef allowed it to happen. Lena was literally the only person in the world she would let see her this way, and even if it made her feel guilty, she was desperate for her unconditional, loving support. Lena covered her forehead in tearful kisses, rubbing a hand up and down her back. "You kept him away from me." Voice breaking, Lena said, "Stef, this wasn't your fault."

Technically she knew it was true, but that didn't make it any easier to accept. "I should have done _something_."

"You did." Lena paused, then said, with the barest hint of amusement, "The proof is in his pants."

Stef felt a mild stirring of pride at the satisfaction in Lena's voice. "But if the girls hadn't called 911—"

"They did," Lena said firmly. "You can't beat yourself up over what _could have_ happened. You'll drive yourself crazy that way. We're alive—_you_ kept us alive. It could have been worse, but it _wasn't_."

She was right, Stef knew, but as long as she was worrying over what might have been, she wouldn't have to think about what had actually happened. Still, she nodded, not wanting to upset Lena any more than she already had. "Point taken."

Lena eased back so that she could look into Stef's eyes. Her beautiful, concerned face blurred around the edges as Stef fought back her emotion. "Baby, I'm so sorry I didn't go to the hospital with you. It killed me to know you were going through that alone, but especially after seeing how upset Mariana was—"

Stef shook her head, trying not to let Lena somehow see how badly she _had_ wanted her there. When her feet had been in the stirrups with the doctor's gloved finger probing gently at her torn flesh, the only thing she had wanted in the entire world was Lena beside her, holding her hand. Of course, at the time the thought had made her feel weak, which had only made her more determined to remain stony-faced and still on the examination table. "It was fine." As much as she'd wanted Lena, she was even happier knowing that her children had at least one of their mothers with them. "I didn't want you to leave the kids, either."

Lena stared at her while they simply breathed for a few minutes, as always, sharing the same air. After some time, something seemed to break in her eyes. She whispered, "Are you in a lot of pain?"

Stef had to look away. "A little. The pills are helping."

"Baby, I'm sorry I told Renee. What he did."

As upset as she'd been at the time, Stef knew that properly documenting her injuries was key to seeing an eventual conviction. She forced herself to make eye contact again so that Lena would believe what she said next. "You did the right thing. We had to tell the truth. It was the only way to make sure he pays for what he did."

Lena sniffled quietly. Her expression went far away for a moment, and Stef somehow knew that she was remembering exactly what those things were. "You're so brave."

Brave was the last thing she felt. Right now everything frightened her, from the prospect of facing her children to the idea that she might never be able to make love to her wife without feeling that man's presence in the room with them. Scariest of all was the knowledge that neither of them had had enough time to process what they'd been through and discover all the wounds it had caused. Their journey toward healing had barely even begun.

Not that she would admit any of that to Lena. Instead she said, "So were you."

As she always had from almost the moment they first met, Lena saw through the tough facade Stef tried so hard to keep in place. "I mean it, Stef. Every chance you had, you tried to redirect his attention away from me, to you. You offered to let him rape you if he'd just leave me alone. You _bit_ and disarmed him, and if the police hadn't come in when they did—"

"I would have killed him." Stef hardened her expression as she met Lena's eyes, almost daring her to judge.

If Stef's confession rattled her at all, Lena didn't show it. "You're the bravest person I know."

"I wish I felt that way." Startled that the words had slipped out, Stef quickly changed the subject. "How about you? Any pain?"

Lena waved a dismissive hand at her face. "Well, this doesn't feel great and I've got a killer headache—and maybe a couple other bruises—but beyond that, I'm fine. Honestly."

Stef's body remained coiled tight with tension. "And otherwise?" She reached out to press two fingers to Lena's forehead, the kind of casual physicality she'd never thought twice about in the past. But this time she stopped short, afraid to make contact. "What's going on in that beautiful head of yours?"

Lena bit her lip, looking like she might cry. "Too much."

"Me too, my love." Stef lowered her hand onto the mattress between them, nearly crying when Lena immediately covered it with hers. "Worst date night _ever_."

She didn't know who was more surprised by the peal of laughter that escaped from Lena unbidden. Almost against her will, Stef had to smile. At least she could still make her wife laugh.

As soon as Lena's amusement died down, she reached out in invitation. "May I cuddle you?"

All her fears about touching her wife again dissolved as soon as the invitation was extended. "You'd better." Rather than wait for Lena to make the first move, Stef gathered her courage and pulled her into her arms. Whatever discomfort she'd been feeling disappeared the moment Lena's familiar, warm body came into contact with hers. She sighed. "Now _this_ helps."

"Yes, it does." Lena clung to her with barely concealed desperation. Like it might be the last time they were together like this. "Stef, I don't want what happened to break us."

"It won't." She said the words instinctively, but as she did, she realized that they were true. _Nothing_ could break them unless they let it. And she sure as hell wasn't going to let some lowlife ruin the very best thing in her entire life—she knew Lena wouldn't, either. "It won't, my love, I promise."

Even knowing how long and difficult their road to healing would be, it was a promise she would gladly give her life to keep.


End file.

Fosters, Angst, Hurt-Comfort