Couldn't Deny You Anything: BRALLIE ONESHOT

Oneshot

I've had this oneshot on Fanfiction.net for a while and decided to add it here as well. I hope you enjoy. :)

Brandon's lack of motivation was concerning.

It was the night before his big piano evaluation, and the entire family had come to visit him at Idyllwild. Brandon, however, seemed to have no interest in the whole ordeal. Rather than practicing, he sat, slumped down on the couch, seemingly deep in thought.

"B?" Callie inquired, sitting down to join him. "Earth to Brandon? Are you alright?"

He looked up at her, only about halfway interested in the conversation, before mumbling something along the lines of "I'm fine." He started to get up to leave, when Callie tugged on his arm lightly, signaling him to sit back down. He begrudgingly obliged, but refused to make eye contact.

"Did I do something?" Callie tentatively questioned, not wanting to make matters worse if she was right. "No. No no no," Brandon responded, wanting to assure her that his newfound troubles were not her fault. Well, not entirely, anyway. "Yes? No. Kind of?" "Brandon, what the hell are you talking about? What's going on?"

"I screwed up the interview," he sputtered out quickly, almost as if he didn't want her to hear what he said. "What do you mean you screwed up the interview?" "I lied. I told the social worker that I initiated everything, and that I never violated the restraining order, and now I feel so guilty. Our answers were inconsistent, and now I screwed everything up, ok!"

Callie pinched the bridge of her nose and sighed. "God damnit." Brandon looked up at her. "Now the judge will never let Stef and Lena adopt me. Why the hell would you do that?"

"I was just trying to protect you!"

"Brandon, I DON'T NEED YOUR PROTECTION!"

The room grew eerily quiet as Callie looked down sheepishly, ashamed that she had just yelled at him like that. His eyes were glossy with tears that hadn't quite yet fallen, and Callie instantly regretted what she had done. "Brandon, I—" "No, Callie. You're right. You don't need my protection. You don't need me." Callie tried to deny it, but Brandon had already left, slamming his bedroom door shut and leaving Callie to sit alone.

"I do need you," she whispered, after he was already gone.

Later that night, Callie couldn't sleep. "You don't need me," kept playing over and over and over again in her head, and she needed to take everything back. Fights with Brandon were particularly horrible, because they happened so infrequently. When they did happen, they were a result of so much pent up anger and frustration that they tended to lash out at one another, far more intensely than necessary.

Callie got up from her bed and tiptoed to the room that Brandon was staying in for the night. "Brandon?" She knocked on the door softly, "B? Are you awake in there?" "Come in."

She found Brandon in quite a disheveled state. He hadn't changed out of the clothes he had worn that day, but his hair was messed up, and his eyes were rimmed in red, a sure sign that he had been crying. With a sympathetic smile, Callie joined him, sitting down on the rumpled sheets where he had probably been lying awake, moments before.

"I'm sorry," they said simultaneously, and had to laugh at their ability to be in sync even when mad at one another.

"I'm sorry I lashed out at you," Callie began. "And I'm sorry that I stormed away," Brandon let out a sad laugh, "and that I fucked everything up."

"You didn't fuck everything up, B" she stuck her tongue out at him, "to be fair, it was kind of a group effort." They both laughed, thankful for the comic relief amidst the sad and stressful environment.