Chapter Text
In his fifteen, nearly sixteen years of existence, Evan Buckley has come to understand one fundamental thing: everybody wants something from him, but nobody wants him.
His ‘birth’ parents only needed him to save their real son. The lab created him for data to further their scientific research, or whatever it was they had been trying to do. The government only needed him to prove the gross ethical violations that the lab had been accused of. Mr. and Mrs. Nolan had used Evan as a replacement for the son they had lost. Admittedly with the Nolan’s there had been some hope that they might eventually want Evan, but they died. There hadn’t been much hope since their funeral.
It's not like Evan hadn’t tried to get people to love him, he had. He’d failed. Spectacularly. It sucked, but it had taught Evan something important. If he was going to make something of himself, if he was going to do anything worth the pain he’d gone through, he needed to do it on his own. No one was going to help him.
No one wanted him.
Nearly sixteen, Evan was done with trying to break bits of himself away to fit the mold other people presented for him. He was done trying to be smaller, quieter, and generally not himself, because no matter how hard he tried to pretend to be something else, it never worked. He’d given up on the dream of having a family, but that didn’t mean he’d given up on a future.
Evan had a plan. Lay low, learn, stay out of trouble, study hard – get a scholarship. Go to college and be someone. Evan wants to live the rest of his life helping people. He’ll figure out the ‘how’ later. He thought, for a while there, he wanted to become a social worker. However, after living in foster care system for the last few years, he is fairly certain he couldn’t stomach the responsibility. Evan certainly didn’t blame his social worker for the bad placements he’d ended up in. For older kids like him, there weren’t a lot of options. People generally wanted younger kids. Ones that weren’t broken yet.
There were other options, other things he could become. A doctor. A lawyer. Even a teacher - something. Evan just wanted his sucky life to mean something.
He had time to figure it out.
The second fundamental truth Evan discovered by age fifteen (nearly sixteen) is simple: trust no one. It had been hard learned knowledge. Evan had been burned time and time again because he wanted to trust people so badly.
He knows better than to get attached. He knows better not to bring attention to himself.
So, Evan is kicking himself mentally as he sits in the corner of a library and spots the police officer coming into the room. He knows she’s there for him. Mostly because he’s the only one there. Then there’s also that feeling. That tingle he gets under his skin that he doesn’t always understand. He knows she’s there for him. He’s known for a while now that Martha, one of the librarians, has taken an interest in him. He should have found another place to study.
The problem is, this is the closest library to his school that’s open until midnight. It’s warm, safe, quiet and full of books. He likes it there far better than his current foster home. Evan should have kept his head down, but no, he’d managed to capture the attention of a very nice, well-meaning librarian who called the police because Evan forgot to cover up his bruises. He’d come in with a short sleeve shirt because it was balls hot all day.
Stupid.
“Hello, may I sit with you?” The policewoman asks him kindly.
“It’s a free country.” Evan huffs out, slouching in his chair without looking up at her.
“I suppose it is.” The lady says and slowly lowers herself into the chair across from Evan and levels him with a look. “My name is Athena Grant, who might you be?”
“Am I in trouble?” Evan asks instead of answer, sitting up a little, but still not looking directly at the officer.
“I don’t know.” Officer Grant says slowly. “Are you?”
“I didn’t do anything.” Evan huffs. “I’m just studying. I have a library card.” He abruptly reaches into his bag to grab his library card. Out of the corner of his eyes he sees the officer tense, her hand moving to her belt. Towards the gun at her hip. “I-I’m just getting my library card.” Evan says, jerking his hands away from his bag and setting them flat on the table.
He felt the spike in her fear along with his own, both simmer for a moment before fading.
“Okay.” The officer says smoothly moving her hand away from her gun and setting them on the table. “Sorry, you can never be too careful these days.”
Evan’s features soften at that, because he heard about the police officer who was shot and killed coming out of a coffee shop the other day. The kid who pulled the trigger had been trying to win favor with his friends. Evan wonders if this police officer knew the guy. Evan wonders if they had been friends.
“Sorry.” Evan breathes out loudly, his leg starts to bounce with nervous energy. “I didn’t do anything wrong. I just want to study. It’s quiet here.”
“Okay, I believe you.” The woman nods slowly. “But, that that wasn’t the concern. How old are you?”
“Eighteen.” Evan lies easily. He tips his chin up defiantly, hoping she’ll buy it.
“You want to try that again?” Officer Grant raises a slim eyebrow in accusation. “Maybe give me the truth this time?”
With a huff, Evan slumps a little in his chair again. “Sixteen.” Still a lie, but closer to the truth. In a few months it will be the truth.
“Okay, so you are a minor, alone for hours almost every day and show up with bruises more often than not. Martha mentioned she never sees you with food and you don’t leave until late at night. Sometimes not until they close at midnight.” The officer sums up gently. “She’s concerned about your safety, about your home life.”
Evan nearly snorts, because what home life? He has a foster home he rarely goes to because it’s too loud. The foster parents don’t ever know when he’s there or care when he’s not. It’s just a bed. A last resort, really.
“I’m a peach.” Evan says after clearing his throat. He looks up at the woman who barely conceals a flicker of confusion. “I bruise easily, like a peach.” It’s something Mrs. Nolan said a lot. Evan doesn’t like to think about her. Not because he misses her, but because he misses how good he had it back then. “I get into it with my friends sometimes, I get bruises.” He shrugs. He bruises quick and dark, but they also fade away faster than his friend’s bruises. He’s been called a freak a few times because of it. “I like to study. I like it here because it’s quiet and just because Martha doesn’t see me eat doesn’t mean I’m starving.”
“Okay.” The offer nods slowly. “I’d still like to take you home, just to make sure you are safe.”
“Why?” Evan growls the word. He knows what happens if she takes him home. Evan doesn’t want that. He doesn’t want to upend his life because someone else is uncomfortable with it. It isn’t fair and he’s frustrated. He knows there’s nothing he can do or say to stop her. Still, he has to try. “Why get involved? Do you know what that means for me? If you take me out of my current foster home, I’ll miss school. It might just be for a day or two, or it could be longer. I’ve lost almost two weeks before.”
The officer looks surprised but doesn’t try and stop Evan as he continues. “And they might not find another foster family right away; I’ll get stuck in a group home or an emergency placement. Those might not be close enough to my school. Did you know there are only so many days you can miss? I can’t be held back because of something so stupid. The absolute last thing I want is to switch schools – again. I have a plan. So, thank you and Martha for your concern, but also, respectfully, no thank you. I just want to go to school. I want to graduate. I want to do everything I can to get a scholarship. I’m not exactly that smart. It’s hard enough for me to do this without having to miss school. I have to do this. I just want to study, please?”
Rant complete, Evan slumps further down in his chair. He knows it doesn’t matter. He shouldn’t have unloaded on the cop lady. She won’t care. No one ever cares. No one ever asks him what he wants. Not really. They say they are looking out for his best interests but they only end up making life harder for him.
“Okay.” The officer says slowly. Evan’s head jerks upwards to look her in the eye – not sure what game she’s playing. He doesn’t feel like she’s lying. Instead of amused or angry, the woman looks curious with a mixture of something else. Sadness. Though Evan can’t think of a single reason why she would be sad.
“Okay?” Evan echoes when she doesn’t elaborate.
“Okay.” Cop Lady leans forward, studying Evan for a second before she nods. “You have a plan. You want to stay in school and get a scholarship, do you have support to help you with that plan?”
“What do you mean?” Evan deflates a little, because he doesn’t understand. “Like friends? I-I have friends.” They aren’t the most supportive. Actually, most of them have tried to get him to ditch studying and do things that he knows will screw up his plan. So, no, his friends aren’t the most supportive of people. She doesn’t need to know that though.
“I mean an adult.” The officer watches him closely. “Someone who can help you achieve your goal.”
“I’m doing fine on my own.” Evan crosses his arms over his chest.
“Your goal is to get into college.” Cop Lady nods. “Do you know what you need to do in order to apply for college? Do you know how to apply for scholarships?”
Evan frowns, but then shakes his head. “I can research all of that.” It’ll help once he manages to buy a laptop. His foster sister keeps finding his cash stash. Or maybe it’s his foster father. Either way, he needs a better place to hide his money.
“Did you know that colleges look for more than good grades when reviewing applications?” The cop continues.
Evan didn’t know that. He frowns again, feeling sweat break out across his forehead. He’d been focused on getting good grades. Studying didn’t always come easy for Evan. Especially at his current foster home. He needed a quiet place. A place he could focus. It was so hard for him to focus. To sit still. He had to really work at it. He wasn’t sure he had time for anything else. What else was there? “What?” Evan manages to whisper.
The officer’s eyes turn sympathetic. “Colleges require more than just good grades. They look at an applicant's character and extracurricular activities. Have you joined any clubs?”
“I volunteer.” Evan says. It isn’t really an official thing. He finds if he helps with food drives or soup kitchens, he not only gets free food but has a safe place to hang out for a while. He doesn’t like to go to the same places too often. He doesn’t like it when nice people like Martha get involved in his life. He could get someone to write him a letter of recommendation. Maybe.
“Volunteering is good.” The officer nods. “But joining clubs and being active at school outside of your education is also a good idea. An idea an adult might have clued you in on. Are there any sports you are interested in?”
“Those cost money.” Sports cost money. Clubs cost money. Evan doesn’t have any money to spare, and his foster parents hate buying him clothes. They’d never be willing to pay for club fees.
“Which is why you should be placed at a home that can provide for you.”
“Look, I’ve been shuffled around for the last four years. I know how this works. Foster parents want the check they get for housing me for themselves. I get fed and a bed.” Evan sighs, leaning forward. “In a couple years I’ll age out of the system and officially be on my own. At least this way I have practice. I appreciate the heads up about the extracurricular thing, but I’m fine. Please?”
Evan is pretty sure no matter what he says, this lady isn’t going to let it go.
“Okay.” Cop Lady says, shocking Evan. “Okay, you have a plan. You’re going to school, and I can see you are dedicated. I wish you had more support from your foster home, or someone else, but I can respect that you are doing your best. I’m willing to make a deal with you.”
“A deal?” Evan repeats timidly.
“First, I need to know who I’m dealing with.” Officer Grant says pointedly. “You don’t have to give me your full name, but I would like to know what to call you.”
“Oh, right. Uh, Evan.” He hesitates and then adds. “Buckley.” Technically he’s in the foster system under the name Evan Nolan, but Evan never forgot his birth name. His biological parents may not have wanted him, but he was born a Buckley.
“Evan Buckley.” Officer Grant repeats with a small smile. “Nice to meet you.” Evan feels a blush light up across his cheeks and he ducks his head in embarrassment. He doesn’t think anyone has ever said they were happy to meet him before. “This is my deal: You continue to go to school, to learn, to get that scholarship and in return for me not meddling in your dubious home life, I want you to check in at least twice a week. Just so I know you are safe and still hitting your goals.”
“Check in with who?” Evan frowns.
“Me.” She pulls out a business card and slides it in front of Evan. “I got a full ride to law school back in my day, so I know a thing or two about building up a college application. Regardless of what we talk about, I’ll expect a call twice a week Evan Nolan.” She says his name pointedly and Buck feels his skin go cold. She thinks he lied to her. For some reason that bothers him. Evan glances at Martha, who is not so skillfully trying to hide her interest in their conversation. Martha must have already told her his legal name. He had to use it to get a library card.
“Buckley is my real last name.” Evan says firmly. “They wouldn’t let me change it back.” For some reason it’s important that she knows he wasn’t lying to her. After all, Officer Grant listened to him. She wasn’t going to bulldoze his life – at least, she said she wouldn’t.
“You were adopted?” Officer Grant’s eyes spark with something cautious.
“Yeah.” Evan nods and drops his gaze back to his hands still resting on top of the table. “I guess it’s hard to keep a kid when you die.” It’s a dark attempt at a joke, but, then again, Evan’s whole life has been one dark joke. So, it fits. An uncomfortable silence follows. Evan raises his eyes to gage Officer Grant’s response. She looks like she wants to say something. “It was a car crash.” He answers the unasked question. “Took them both out at the same time.”
“Were you,” she starts to ask, but hesitates.
“In the accident? Yep.” Evan drops his eyes again. “The car was pretty mangled. It took them a while to get me out. The firefighters were nice.” Officer Grant doesn’t immediately say anything, and Evan has never done well with awkward silence. He always tries to fill it – even when it pisses whoever he’s with off. “One firefighter stayed with me in the hospital, until a social worker came to collect me. He was nice. He’d check up on me that first year, but then I got moved again and I don’t think he knew where to find me. Or he lost interest.”
“Well, I can promise you I’m not going to lose interest.” Officer Grant says with a firmness that makes Evan want to believe her. He doesn’t, because he knows the rules of the universe. She doesn’t want him. She wants to make sure she’s doing her job right. “You will call me.”
“What if you’re busy?” Evan asks quietly.
“I won’t be.” The officer promises. Evan highly doubts it, but shrugs.
“What if you don’t answer? What if I can only call super late at night?” Evan presses, because he wants to know the rules. “Do you want me to leave a message?”
“In the highly unlikely case that I don’t answer, yes, I expect you to leave a message and a number for me to call you back at.”
“I don’t have a cell phone.” He has thought about getting a prepaid phone before. But it isn’t like he has anyone he needs to call. Besides, even though they are cheap, he has more important things to save up for. Like a laptop. Maybe even eventually a car. He could live out of a car, he can’t live out of a cell phone. “So I won’t call from the same number – like ever. But I can call you. Twice a week.”
“Good.” Officer Grant holds out her hand to him. “Then we have a deal.”
Evan takes her hand, and they shake on it.
“Are you sure you don’t want a ride home?” Officer Grant asks, standing up.
“Nah, I really am studying.” Evan gestures to the open notebook and textbook. “I have a book report and a pretty big test tomorrow in my science class.”
“Alright.” The officer nods. “I’ll leave you to it and I’ll talk to you soon.” She nods and turns to leave.
“Officer Grant?” Evan calls after her cautiously. She glances back at him and he offers her a tentative, fleeting smile. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome.” She smiles.
__
It’s weird having someone give a damn about him.
As promised, Evan calls the number on Officer Grant’s card the next day, because it’s Friday and he has to call her twice a week. He borrows a teacher’s phone during lunch. Honestly Evan doesn’t expect her to actually answer.
“This is Officer Athena Grant.” She picks up after two rings.
“Uh, this is Evan? From the library?” There’s a moment of dread, thinking that maybe she didn’t remember. Maybe she had forgotten. Stupid. He shouldn’t have called he –
“Evan Buckley.” Her voice is warm, like a hug. Evan doesn’t even remember the last time he had gotten a hug. “I’m so happy you called. How did that science test you were studying for go?”
A flush of surprise rushes through Evan. Not only did she remember him and use his preferred name, but she remembered what he’d been studying for. “Uh, good. I think. I’ll get the scores on Monday.”
“That’s good, you’ll have to tell me how you did.” The thing is, she actually sounds interested – and Evan isn’t sure what to do with that. “Are you still safe?”
“Uh, yes? I’m at school.” Evan hadn’t been expecting her to be so blunt with her questions of his safety, but he appreciates it. He’s always been pretty good at reading people in person, but over the phone is harder.
“What did you have for breakfast this morning?”
That question throws him off. He hadn’t had breakfast. He could lie, but he decides not to. “I was running late, I didn’t have the time.”
“Okay, what did you have for lunch?” She asks, voice patient and kind.
“I had a hot dog and some carrots.” It had been what the cafeteria and been serving. His friend Mallory had decided she was going vegan, so she didn’t want her prepaid meal and had given it to him. He’d split the carrots with her and the bag of chips had been passed around the table. Evan hadn’t gotten any of them, but that was fine. It was more food than he got some days.
“Good.” The officer sounds pleased. “Try not to skip breakfast, Evan, it’s the most important meal of the day. You need to fuel your body or that brain of yours will start to feel sluggish.”
She has a point. “I’ll try.”
Mr. Turner is looking at him strangely, growing impatient. Evan had asked him if he could make a quick call. “Uh, I’ve got to go.”
“Alright, I look forward to our next call.” Officer Grant says cheerfully. “Have a wonderful day, Evan.”
“Thanks, uh, Officer Grant.” Evan says and ends the call handing the cell phone back to his English teacher. “Thank you.”
“You in trouble with the law, son?” Mr. Turner asks, raising an eyebrow.
“No, she – uh, asked me to check in with her. I was staying late at the library - it’s a long story.” Evan isn’t sure how to explain it. Evan thanks him again and decides that maybe he shouldn’t use his teachers’ phones to call Officer Grant.
__
Evan falls into a routine. Calling Officer Grant isn’t always easy, because he has to charm people into letting him use their phone. He doesn’t mind the calls. Actually, he finds himself looking forward to talking with the police officer. They talk about different things, though each call Officer Grant makes a point to ask if he’s safe. Evan always tells her he is, even if maybe he isn’t always. Even when they don’t talk, sometimes Evan remembers to eat specifically because Officer Grant usually asks him about what he’s eaten.
Mallory gets a cell phone for her sixteenth birthday and is happy to let him use it after school to make his check ins. Two months after their meeting in the library, Evan runs into some trouble. First, Mallory decides that they are not friends anymore because her boyfriend doesn’t like how much time they spend together. She lets him use her cell phone one last time on Monday to make his call. It hurts, because Mallory was probably Evan’s closest friend, but he gets it.
On Tuesday Evan’s foster sister breaks their foster father’s prized television. Allen, their foster father, does not react well. Evan steps in, claiming that he was the one who broke the TV, which lands him a pretty hefty beating. To make sure no one sees the bruises, Allen locks Evan in the closet in the basement that night, only letting him out three times a day to use the bathroom and drink water, usually adding to the bruises during those times.
“What you did was destruction of property – a felony offense.” Allen snarls at him. “This is what happens to punks like you. You go to prison. This is just a taste of it, son. I’m sure you’ll be experiencing the real thing sooner rather than later.”
On Saturday there doesn’t seem to be any plans to end his imprisonment. Evan panics. He has to call Officer Grant by midnight, or he’ll break their deal. He’s sore, hungry and scared when Allen lets him out. Allen smacks him around a bit, he’s drunk and it shows. Evan takes his chances. He runs. He stumbles around with bruised ribs and a black eye until he finds a twenty-four-hour gas station with a sympathetic grandfather type working who lets Evan borrow his phone.
It’s 11:56pm when Officer Grant answers. “Evan?” Her voice is rushed, but rough in a way that makes him think that he woke her up. He’d called so late. Too late.
He nearly cries, but he stops himself short, taking in a shaky breath to spill out his apology. “I’m so sorry, I-I didn’t m-mean to cut it s-so close.”
“Are you safe?” Her voice is tighter than normal. He thinks maybe she’s afraid. Or maybe he’s just afraid and projecting.
Evan tries to stop himself from crying. He drives his teeth into his bottom lip, but the sob breaks free. “N-no.” He admits. “I can’t go back.” He isn’t sure what he’s saying. He can’t go back to his current foster home, he can’t go back into the system. He just can’t.
“Okay, I’m going to come get you.” Officer Grant tells him. He hears shifting and a voice in the background.
“I woke you up.” Evan inhales sharply. “I-I’m fine, really. You don’t need-need to do a-anything. I-I can figure it out. I will figure it out.” It isn’t like he hasn’t slept on the streets before. He could find a park, or an overpass to sleep under. He left his book bag at the foster house when he bailed. He might be able to sneak back in and get it. His foster sister might be willing to bring it to him at school. She owes him. “I just wanted to call. A deal is a deal, right?”
“I’m coming to get you.” She says firmly. “Where are you?” Evan doesn’t know. He’d wandered around for a while, and he is so tired. He can’t make her come get him. He can’t.
“No, no – it’s okay. I’ll call you in a few days.” Evan says, a little numb as he hangs up on her. Officer Grant has a life, she doesn’t deserve him calling her in the middle of the night. He’s officially sixteen years old as of yesterday – practically an adult. He can handle this.
He has to.