A/N: I volunteer at my local Children's Hospital and I couldn't get this idea out of my head. Please bare with me, because I have never written an AU story before.

CALLIE

166333. Callie Jacobs typed the familiar pin number into the computer, selecting a few buttons to confirm she was signing in to her volunteer shift. After signing in she headed for the small set of lockers on the far side of the Volunteer Services Office, depositing her phone and her jacket inside, before heading to the closet to grab her uniform. All volunteers wore a red vest, complete with a name-tag and an ID badge that allowed them access to the various floors at Children's Hospital San Diego. The purpose of the red vest was to make sure volunteers were easily identifiable. Both for the nurses and doctors, as well as the patients.

The final step Callie had to take before she could leave the office and head to the floors, was to sign out a small 'phone' from the desk. Volunteers weren't allowed to bring cellphones to their shift, for obvious reasons, and instead had to check out one of the hospital phones. They didn't do anything a part from call the office, but it was necessary for volunteers to be accessible while they were on the floors; just in case a patient requested a volunteer and no one was present in the office to take the call.

Callie J, phone C. Callie scrawled her name onto the end of the long-list, pocketing the phone labeled C, before she headed to the whiteboard. She was all set to head to the floors, but she always made sure to check the whiteboard first, in order to see what assignments were available.

Callie was a float at Children's Hospital, San Diego. She had been since the spring of Sophomore-year, and she found it to often be the highlight of her week. It was extremely tough emotionally, but she also found it incredibly fulfilling at the same time. When she'd originally started volunteering school had been in session so her shifts had been once a week on Saturdays; however, during the summer she'd increased her shifts to Sunday-Thursday, in an effort to maximize the number of volunteer hours she'd receive. For the past three months five days a week (and three months once a week prior to summer), she'd signed in, put on her red vest, and hit the floors; and every day she'd worked with different kids and had a completely different experience every time. That was what she loved most of all about the entire thing; every shift was different, she never did the same thing twice. Ever. When she had weekly shifts she'd almost never work with the same kid twice, during the summer; however, it was more likely to see a patient a few times, but not definite.

Callie's position at the hospital was a role of volunteer, or "float." She had access to four of the floors/inpatient units and it was her job to go to each floor and see if any patients required a volunteer. Her tasks ranged from holding sick babies, to playing with kids, ages ranged from toddler to teen. She would take patients to playrooms where they would play board games, or color. She'd take older kids to the teen room, where they'd challenge each other in various video games or in air-hockey. She'd hold babies while they cried, or while they slept. Often she'd help school-aged children with their homework. Sometimes, she'd bring a patient down to "Star Studio," which was a neat theater area on the first floor, where kids could enjoy performances and games. All "Star Studio" events were broadcast on the 'in-house' TV channel, to make sure that children who couldn't leave their rooms wouldn't be left out.

Callie's job was to distract patients from life at the hospital, to provide them with something to do that would help them feel safe and at home. She was there to help get kids thinking about something other than their sickness, and although it broke her heart to see so many so sick, Callie did her absolute best to put on a happy face and engage the kids in fun activities. It was easy to do when patients didn't exhibit any apparent signs of an illness, but incredibly hard to do when she was placed with a kid suffering from cancer, or a baby who was stuck in the hospital with no one to hold it, because it's parents lived too far away.

Yet, Callie did it. She did it every week.

And she loved it.

Unfortunately, Sunday's were the least busy of all her days, and so there were significantly less patients in need that day; Saturday had similar statistics. This meant that once school started again, in just a few weeks time, there would be less activity on Callie's once a week shifts. During the summer Callie's shifts fell primarily on weekdays, but once September arrived she'd be returning to her once a week shifts. Despite having volunteered on Sunday's for a solid few weeks, Callie still couldn't get over the feel of the hospital on Sunday's. It was calmer, quieter. The volunteer office was usually empty, the normal coordinators at home for the weekend. A part of Callie liked it better though, it made her feel more independent and able to construct her shift the way she wanted to.

The white-board listed a few names of patients who had called to request volunteers that day. However, most of the names had check-marks by them, indicating that other volunteers had already tended to the children. After skimming the board, Callie decided to just head out of the office and start 'patrolling' the floors. A nurse would most likely spot her on the floors and provide her with the room-number of a child in need.

Callie checked the clock on the wall: 12:10. She'd already wasted ten-minutes just signing in. Upon realizing this Callie quickly scribbled down a few patient names (just to be safe), before she exited the office and headed for the elevators.

Volunteers were allowed access to floors 4-7, and sometimes 8, but that floor was only used if there was overflow. The fourth floor was Cardiovascular, the fifth floor was Pediatric Intensive Care, the sixth floor was Medical/Surgical, and the seventh floor was Medical/Surgical as well as Hematology/Oncology. Volunteers were allowed to begin "floating" at any floor, but usually Callie started at the fourth floor and worked her way up. If on the rare occasion she found no one interested in a volunteer she began the cycle again, or went to the Gift Shop to see if there were any deliveries, or went to see if the Sibling Play Area (where parents often brought the siblings of patients) needed any extra assistance.

Callie heard the familiar ding! of the elevators, indicating that she had arrived on the fourth floor. Upon exiting the elevators she took a sharp right and headed for the large doors that led into the unit. A simple scan of her badge caused the two metal doors to open, and she paused for a few pumps of hand sanitizer (located outside every ward and hospital room), before she entered the floor.

Most of the floors were arranged in a T-shape, the fourth floor being the exception. It was more of a U-shape, and despite having volunteered at the hospital for awhile Callie still found herself slightly disoriented whenever she was on the fourth floor. Which was often because more babies tended to be on the fourth floor and she loved holding babies the most. There was something strangely therapeutic about it.

Unfortunately, after taking a slow walk up and down the floor no nurses indicated that there were any patients in need of a volunteer. Callie suspected so, considering the weekends were usually a time for families to visit their loved ones in the hospital, so naturally less volunteers were needed.

The fifth floor wasn't in need of volunteers either, although one nurse did pull Callie aside to tell her to check room 5043. Much to Callie's disappointment; however, she arrived to find the patient in question was sleeping. No other nurses on the floor indicated that any of their patients required a volunteer, so, feeling slightly anxious about the lack of activity (she didn't like feeling as though she was wasting her time), Callie dutifully headed for the sixth floor; hoping to find a bit more action, and maybe, if she was lucky, a baby to hold.

When she scanned her badge to enter the sixth-floor, Callie was surprised to see quite a large group of people leaving the unit. At the front of the family was a woman with long blonde hair and fair skin, she was holding hands with a woman of a darker complexion who had the craziest (and most beautiful) hair Callie had ever seen. The brunette concluded, by their linked hands, they must've been partners.

Behind them were three kids, two of the three seemed to be around Callie's age. One was a short girl with black hair, and the other was a tall boy with brown hair. They seemed to be of Latin descent, and considering how similar they looked to one another Callie guessed they were twins; however, she couldn't be sure. The final member of the group with a little boy, he was visibly much younger than the other two children. He had brown hair, and brown eyes, and Callie couldn't help but stare at him as the family passed by. He looked familiar. She felt as if she must've known him from somewhere.

"What's with the vest?" The voice brought Callie from her thoughts, and she blinked in confusion, attempting to process who was talking to her. She drew her gaze away from the young boy, and in the direction of the voice. Only to find, much to her surprise, the family had stopped and the black-haired girl was talking to her.

"I'm sorry?" Callie questioned, having not completely heard what the girl had asked.

"Why are you wearing a red vest?" The girl repeated, adding in a slightly dramatic tone. "I hope it's not a fashion statement, because god vests are so 90s, and the color red is way too bold."

"Mariana!" One of the older woman, Callie thought it was the blonde one, scolded. "Be nice."

"I am!" The girl, who Callie concluded was Mariana, protested. "I'm preventing this poor girl from making a terrible fashion mistake." She explained.

The two boys chuckled, and Callie found herself rolling her eyes in amusement.

"Uh no, it's not a fashion statement." She said, causing Mariana breathe a sigh of relief (seriously what was with this girl?). "I'm actually a volunteer here." Callie pointed to her badge.

"How wonderful!" The other woman, not the blonde, exclaimed. "What is it that you do?"

"I'm called a float. I go to all the different floors, and I see if any patients need someone to hangout with to, you know, distract them from the fact their in a hospital." Callie explained.

The blonde woman's eyes brightened. "You can go anywhere?" She asked.

Callie frowned, "I mean usually a nurse tells me what patients need someone, but yeah, I guess so." Callie took a few steps towards the doors. "I actually should be going, I don't want to waste my time...not that talking to you all is a waste of time, you seem like good people I just..." Callie trailed off awkwardly, deciding to just head for the doors.

"Wait!" She turned back around when the blonde spoke again, giving her an expectant look. "We actually just left my son. He's a bit down right now, and could really do with some company."

Callie's eyes widened when she realized what the woman was suggesting. "Umm, I'm not really sure if I can do that. I really have to let the nurses tell me where to go. I don't think-" Callie stammered.

"You can ask his nurse." The other woman, the one with the cool hair, interrupted. "He really could use some cheering up." The blonde beamed at her partner's words, before giving Callie a hopeful smile.

"I'll see what I can do," Callie found herself saying. After all, it was pretty hard to say no when they were all staring at her so optimistically. "What's his name and room number?" She added.

"Brandon Foster," the youngest boy said, and Callie looked over at him. He looked way too familiar. She must've known him. But how could she? She couldn't. She didn't...right?

"Room 6023," the other boy, the taller one, added.

Callie nodded, "Brandon Foster. 6023. Got it. I'll check in with his nurse."

"Thank you!" the blonde looked as though she might hug her, so Callie quickly gave the group one last smile before entering the sixth floor. Knowing, fully well she wasn't going to check in on Brandon Foster.

However, despite her original intentions, after making the rounds on the floor and coming to the realization that no one required a volunteer at that time, Callie found herself standing outside room 6023. She hesitated at the entrance. Normally she was called into a room by a nurse or a doctor, not by a patients family. For all she knew Brandon Foster might not even want a volunteer, his mom might've just been paranoid or worried.

Callie glanced towards the glass case outside the hospital room (and outside every hospital room on the floors), inside was a set of laminated signs that provided visitors, staff and volunteers with a set of instructions regarding the patient in the room. Most rooms were labeled as "Standard Precaution," signaling that visitors only had to sanitize hands before entering. Other's were "Contact Precaution," in which you were required to wear gloves and a gown. "Droplet Precaution," in which you were required to wear a mask. And finally "Contact and Droplet Precaution," in which you were required to were gloves, a gown and a mask. There were a few other precautions, but those four were the most common.

Brandon Foster's was "Standard Precaution," so Callie could go in after sanitizing her hands and wouldn't have to worry about wearing a gown, mask or gloves. Callie applied hand sanitizer, before hesitating outside the door once again. What would she say? 'Oh hi I ran into your mom, other mom, brothers and sister in the hallway and they said you needed someone to keep you company?' It just sounded too weird.

"Oh, are you going to check in on Brandon?" Callie nearly jumped at the voice behind her, spinning on her heels to find a friendly looking nurse smiling at her.

"Uhh, I was just I..." Callie trailed off, glancing towards the door, stumbling with what to say. "Does he need one?" She recovered, pulling herself together, she didn't want the nurse to think she wasn't equipt to be a volunteer. "I actually ran into his mom on my way into the floor," Callie admitted. "She mentioned he might need one, but I wasn't sure if I should ask his nurse before just going in."

"Well, I'm his nurse and I can confirm he'd love one," the nurse chirped. She seemed to be the kind of person who was happy no matter the circumstances, a true optimist, or, the opposite of Callie herself.

"Great," Callie mumbled, reaching for the door.

"...perhaps he wouldn't love one," the nurse corrected, causing Callie to draw her hand from the door. "He's in a bit of a bad mood, if I'm being honest. I mean I don't blame him, being in a hospital and all. I think having someone to talk to would be really good for him. Please go in."

Callie just nodded, unsure what to respond to the nurse with. Normally she didn't talk to patients-okay she obviously talked to patients, but she talked to them while playing a board game, or cards, or playing with toys, or watching a movie. She didn't spend times just talking to patients. This was because, she usually hung out with children under the age of thirteen and they didn't want to 'just talk.'

How old was this Brandon Foster anyway?

Callie's question was answered moments later when she entered room 6023. She pulled the curtain aside to reveal a boy-okay admittedly her question wasn't entirely answered, because she didn't know his exact age; however, she could tell he was much older than thirteen. If she had to guess she'd probably go with sixteen, like her, or seventeen at the most.

"Mom. I told you, for the hundredth time, I'm fine staying here alone, really." The voice filled the small hospital room and Callie decided that Brandon Foster did not sound like she'd expected him to sound. Nor, from what she could tell, did he look the way that she had expected him to look. She'd assumed he would've been a younger boy, perhaps similar in age to the younger brother she'd seen in the hallway. Rarely did she volunteer with teenagers. She also hadn't expected him to be so...attractive. There, she'd said it. There wasn't exactly any other word she could used to describe Brandon Foster. Point blank he was attractive.

Not that Callie was interested in him or anything, that was the last thing on her mind. She was more concerned with how to start a conversation with this kid, what did two normal sixteen-year-olds talk about? If he'd been a girl perhaps she could've discussed boys, or the latest fashion magazine...not that Callie herself was interested in any of that, but it would be pretty easy to pretend that she was. Callie didn't have all that many friends, but the few she did have were primarily girls, she wasn't exactly up to date on what sixteen-year-old boys did these days. Truthfully, she should know something, after all, her boyfriend Wyatt was a sixteen-year-old boy. Admittedly they mostly made out when they were together, there wasn't much time spent talking.

Callie took a few more steps into Brandon's room, deciding to just wing it and see what happened. She cleared her throat and began with an introduction; a greeting was always a safe first step with anyone.

"Not your mom," Callie blurted, biting her lip and inwardly scolding herself a second later. 'Not your mom' wasn't the greeting she'd been planning. Come on Callie you couldn't just start with a normal 'hello?'

The patient, Brandon, was visibly surprised, his head turning sharply in Callie's direction. His eyes, Callie noticed, were a mixture of green and grey and only further confirmed Callie's earlier statement. He was attractive. Though, as pretty as his eyes were Callie couldn't help but feel slightly uncomfortable as they scanned her up and down; most likely trying to figure out who the heck she was and what the heck she was doing in his hospital room.

When Brandon didn't speak she moved closer to his bed. "I'm Callie. I volunteer here."

"Is it the activity cart again?" Brandon's tone sounded frustrated. "I've told my nurse again and again that I have no interest in making paper collages or drawing a picture." Brandon paused. "Or do you have a dog?" He asked, referring to the dog visits that often took place at the hospital. "Because I'm not much of a dog person...or a cat person for that matter."

Callie couldn't help but smirk slightly at Brandon's words. She may have issued an awkward greeting, but at least she wasn't rambling on about dogs and cats. He seems friendly enough, maybe a little dorky. Perhaps a little sad, but that's understandable. He's in a hospital after all.

"No activity cart, and no dog," Callie promised. "Just me." She was now standing at the edge of his bed, hesitating slightly as she decided whether to continue standing or pull up a chair.

"Just you?" Brandon echoed, and as though reading her mind he nodded to the chair. "You can sit."

"Thanks," Callie offered him a smile. He continued to stare at her. His gaze sent shivers up her spine, but she couldn't comprehend why.

"So, Callie," her name sounded right coming out of his mouth, natural, as if he'd said it a thousand times before. As if he was an old friend. Not a stranger in a hospital room she was supposed to 'un-depress.' "What do volunteers do here?"

"Well, Brandon," Callie mimicked, earning an almost smile from the boy. "My job is to keep you distracted."

"Distracted?" Brandon repeated, not fully understanding.

"From life at the hospital. From whatever it is your condition is," Callie explained. Brandon raised his eyebrows slightly, and Callie ducked her head shyly. "It works better with younger kids, in fact, I usually only volunteer with younger kids. We play board games, cards, do crafts."

"Tempting," Brandon said, his gaze no longer scrutinizing, but instead playful. "I happened to be a killer Monopoly player."

Callie took the suggestion gratefully,"You're on." She accepted his challenge, before slowly rising from her chair. "I'll just have to go and get it from the playroom-"

"No need," Brandon cut in, gesturing towards the table at the far end of the room. "I've got my own." Sure enough, a Monopoly box was sat on the table. It was worn, and clearly had been used many, many times.

Callie laughed, "You weren't kidding then?" She said as she crossed the room and retrieved the board game. "You really are an expert."

Brandon shrugged, "You kinda have to be if you live in my house."

"Oh yeah? I bet your brothers and sister get really into it. Especially your sister, she seemed really enthusiastic." Brandon's expression turned to a mixture of confusion and a half frown. "I ran into them in the hallway," Callie explained quickly. His expression cleared.

"So that's why you're in here," Brandon said as he pulled the small bedside table on wheels in between the two of them, and opened the Monopoly box. "My moms asked you to come in and what?" He laid the board on the table. "Cheer me up?"

"Something like that," Callie admitted. "But I was looking to hangout with someone anyway." Brandon didn't respond, so Callie continued, desperate to not let them be overcome with an awkward silence. "They seem nice. Your family."

Brandon shrugged, "They're alright. Do you wanna be the dog, the thimble, the car, the boat or-"

"The dog," Callie interrupted, taking the piece from his hand. Brandon made a face, to which Callie grinned. "I'm a dog person." Brandon selected the top hat before putting the rest of the characters back into the box. "Your families big," Callie went on, hoping Brandon would pick up the conversation.

"Yeah...it's kind of complicated actually." Callie raised an eyebrow in silent question, oh? "My biological mom is the blonde one, Stephanie, or Stef as we call her." Callie started sorting the various types of cards into piles, waiting for Brandon to continue. "My dad's name is Mike, and they divorced when I was five."

"I'm sorry," Callie said automatically.

"Not your fault," Brandon said with a shrug. "It was for the best anyway, you see, my mom, Stef, she's a lesbian." Callie nodded thoughtfully, deciding to let Brandon finish his story before she responded. "The other woman you saw is my step-mom, her name is Lena. I live with Stef and Lena full-time, but I still see my dad a lot. Stef and Lena adopted my two older siblings, Jesus and Mariana when they were eight. Before that they were in foster-care."

"So was I," Callie found herself saying. It was Brandon's turn to look surprised. "Not for very long." Callie felt the need to explain. "My birth-mom was killed in a car-accident when I was little-"

"I'm sorry," Brandon's eyes looked sad.

"Not your fault," Callie mimicked his earlier response.

"Doesn't have to be my fault," Brandon met her gaze. "For me to feel bad."

Callie felt a blush creeping into her cheeks and she quickly distracted herself with setting up the rest of the game. "Anyway, I went into foster-care, because my dad was driving the car and he was drunk so he went to prison for manslaughter." Why am I telling a total stranger all of this? I never tell anyone this, not Wyatt, not my friends. So why am I telling this to Brandon? Maybe because I'll never see him again, yes that must be it.

"That must've been hard, I can't imagine..." Brandon's voice was soft, he too seemed surprised that Callie was telling him such serious information. However, he seemed genuinely interested and concerned, so Callie went on.

"I was really little, so I don't remember it much. My brother was really young too. They split us up. I assume he got adopted really quickly. Families always seem to want babies more than they want six year-olds." Callie's voice was suddenly quiet. It was one thing to tell a total stranger about her time in foster-care, but it was another to tell a stranger about her brother; her brother who she hadn't seen in ten-years. He'd be twelve by then. Twelve!

"They split you up? They can do that?" Brandon sounded surprised. "I just assumed since the twins were adopted together..."

Callie nodded, "Yeah. I don't really remember my brother that well, he was only two when everything happened. I try not to think about him, or my time in foster-care. It's all in the past, you know?" Brandon simply nodded. "Lucky for me I was only in the system for a year or two. It turns out the person I thought was my dad, the one who raised me, the one who went to prison. Well, he wasn't my real father."

"Wow," was all Brandon could say.

"Yeah. The state had to access my real birth-certificate for some reason, and my social worker made the discovery. She contacted my real dad, Robert Quinn, and the rest is history. He took me in, raised me. He'd remarried my step-mom, Jill by the time I came to them, and even had a daughter. She's thirteen now. Her name is Sophia, and although she's technically my half-sister I consider her to be my full-sister." Callie finished, smiling at the thought of Sophia. They'd always had a good relationship, she was lucky. Most siblings didn't get along well. Her dad always said they were unusually close.

"I feel you," Brandon was nodding. "I consider Mariana and Jesus to be my 'real-siblings.' Jude too."

"Jude?" Callie questioned, the name felt familiar to her. He must be the youngest one I saw, the one who looked familiar.

"Yeah, we adopted him fairly recently actually. He was in foster-care too. I think for a good number of years. We don't really know anything about his past, or his biological parents. I love him though, just like I would a biological sibling."

Callie smiled at him, "You have quite the family." She mused.

Brandon smiled back, success! He doesn't look so unhappy anymore! Callie inwardly congratulated herself. It hadn't been hard at all to talk to Brandon Foster, in fact, it had been weirdly easy. "I could say the same thing about you," Brandon quipped. "Are you ever gonna look for your brother?"

Callie dropped the die she'd been holding, surprised by the question. "No," she said slightly defensively. "That life, that's my past. Besides, he probably doesn't even remember he had a sister. He was only two."

"Sure, but aren't you at all interested? I mean he's your brother, or I guess half-brother if you didn't have the same dad. It'd be kinda cool to at least know something about him," Brandon smiled at her and although Callie knew he was just being curious, and had no ill intention she couldn't help but feel slightly uncomfortable. She'd worked so hard to forget the past. It had been easy to transition to calling Robert her dad, after all, he was her dad.

However, it had took many years for Callie to let go of her mother and call Jill mom, but now it was normal, natural. Robert was her dad, Jill was her mom, Sophia was her sister. She didn't need to go hunting for her half-brother, he was a part of the past. She was moving forward. There was also the issue that she couldn't remember his name, but she didn't feel the need to mention that to Brandon. Who in their right mind forget their brothers name? You were only six. A lot of things happened at once. You were traumatized. You wanted to forget it so, you did. Callie attempted to console herself.

"I'm not interested," Callie's voice was cold, guarded. Brandon seemed to pick up on this and he shifted slightly away from her.

"I didn't mean..." Brandon trailed off.

"I know," Callie offered him a forced smile. "I know," she repeated. "It's just complicated that's all."

Brandon nodded, and much to Callie's delight, he did not further press the subject. Instead, he reached for the dice she'd dropped and began to play the game. Changing the topic of conversation to his statistical record in Monopoly. Apparently he'd only ever lost once. To Jude.

Well, Brandon Foster, you're about to lose again Callie thought, her competitive nature taking hold of her. She watched as Brandon rolled a three and landed on 'Baltic Avenue.'

"I'll take it!" he said, overly excited.

Callie laughed, "Are you kidding? That's the worst property! I thought you said you were a pro!"

Brandon winked at her, "Strategy my dear Callie, strategy."

Callie bit her lip, ignoring the fact that he'd called her 'dear,' and ignoring the fact that her heart had fluttered. You can't possibly like this boy, because one: you already have a boyfriend who you love very much, two: you're supposed to be his volunteer, distracting him from his sickness, not flirting with him and three: after today you'll never see him again! Callie paused slightly at the last thought. If I'll never see him again what's the harm in a little flirting? She inwardly scolded herself at the thought. Flirting with a patient would be unprofessional. Unheard of.

"Well your strategy is about to get it's ass kicked," Callie said confidently. "I've never lost." She smirked as Brandon's mouth formed into an 'o' shape. "And," she continued. "Despite being a volunteer, I don't let the patients win."

"Game on," Brandon offered her his hand. She took it. Instantly blaming the electric shock that went up her arm to static electricity, and, you know, science. Their gazes met and they sat there, staring at each other, hands clasped together, for a minute too long. Eventually Callie drew her eyes away, and cleared her throat.

"Reading railroad!" she said happily as she moved the dog to the fifth spot on the board. "I'll buy it."

Brandon groaned, "Please don't tell me you're one of the railroad people!" He sounded genuinely upset.

Callie tipped her head to one side, "Railroad people?" She asked, her tone light with amusement.

"Yeah! You know, the people who's main strategy is to collect all the railroads and if another person gets one they make a big deal," Brandon explained.

"You'll have to wait and see," Callie teased. "Now give me my property card."

Brandon placed the card into her hand, shaking his head in disdain. "You've officially ruined all previous thoughts I had about you," he said feigning disappointment.

"Oh?" Callie's voice was light, "You were thinking about me?"

Brandon blushed, grabbing the die from the board. "Shut up. You're messing up my game." He rolled an eight and landed on 'St Charle's Place,' immediately reaching for his stack of money to purchase the property.

Callie groaned, "Don't tell me you're one of those 'buy everything they land on,' people!" she complained, adding with a grin. "They're the worst."

Brandon winked again, "I guess you'll have to wait and find out."

/

It turned out Brandon Foster was one of those infamous 'buy everything they land on' players. To the point where he quickly depleted his entire stack of money, and was surrounded by property cards by the time he finally landed on 'his goal.' Callie on the other hand, had played it safe and had only purchased a few properties; however, she'd managed to also purchase hotels, making Brandon's lack of money an even bigger issue.

"Yes! 'Boardwalk!' In your face!" Brandon exclaimed, nearly jumping out of his bed as he slid the top hat onto the most expensive property. He reached for his stack of paper money, that was now, not so much of a stack at all. In fact, he only had one single bill left...and it wasn't a $500. Upon realizing this Brandon pouted, yes, he literally pouted. His expression was similar to that of a sad puppy, and Callie had the sudden urge to give him one of the lollipops she kept in her vest for the younger children. She didn't though. That would be too weird.

Instead she laughed, causing Brandon to give her an dirty look. "Boardwalk is overrated anyway," Callie attempted to reassure him.

"Maybe..." Brandon's voice was soft, sad almost. "But I really, really, really wanted it." He gave Callie the biggest puppy-dog eyes she'd ever seen, going as far to stick out his bottom lip to complete the look. Callie quickly looked away from his lips.

"If you're asking me for a loan that is not happening," she picked up the dice and ignored Brandon's protests. "In fact," she continued. "I'm beginning to think you've cheated your way to victory, and your brother, Jude, was the only one to see through you and your silly puppy dog look."

"That is a terrible thing to say Callie Quinn." Callie smiled inwardly at the fact that Brandon had remembered her last-name, she'd never openly said it, she'd just said Quinn was her dad's last name.

"Knock knock?" A sound at the door caused the two sixteen-year-olds to look up from their game. Brandon's nurse, the same one who had let Callie in earlier, had entered the room. "I'm just coming in to check your vitals...oh!" The nurse caught sight of Callie. "You're still here! I thought your shift might have ended. I guess I was wrong."

Callie's heart sank and she snapped her eyes to the clock on the wall. 2:58. She breathed a sigh of relief, she'd been caught up in the game, but she hadn't gone over her shift. She hadn't kept her dad waiting. The relief quickly left her; however, as she realized that the time meant she'd have to leave Brandon soon. In two minutes to be exact.

"No, my shift ends at three," Callie told the nurse, her eyes flicking to Brandon to see he had a sad look on his face. Her heart clenched. He seemed like such a fun guy, such a nice guy. A guy that Callie would've liked to be friends with. He was easy to talk to, both about the serious things and the happier things. He obviously cared about people, and he was stuck in a hospital, sick. Why do the best people always get the worst diseases? Callie felt suddenly angry that a person with the likes of Brandon Foster had to be cooped up in a hospital day in and day out. She hadn't formally asked him what was wrong with him, after all, it was protocol not to ask patients that question. But considering all the various cables connected to him, she was pretty sure it was pretty serious.

"You'd better go then," the nurse said happily with a glance at the clock on the wall.

Callie nodded, rising to her feet. She knew the nurse was just being nice, but she couldn't help but feel slightly annoyed she'd told her to leave. Callie had wanted to stay with Brandon for as long as possible, and, more importantly, she'd wanted to give him a proper goodbye, not one where a nurse was lurking in the background, listening to their every word.

In the end Callie simply offered him her hand, he shook it. "Good game," she said with a sad smile. "You really are good," she paused. "I'm just better. You can add this game to your list of defeats, Foster." Her lips curled into a smirk.

Brandon rolled his eyes, "Technically we didn't finish so I still could've won."

"You have no money left! And I have six hotels!" Callie retorted, amazed that Brandon was so stubborn he wouldn't admit defeat when it was staring at him in the face. She was beginning to doubt his supposed 'Monopoly statistics.'

Brandon didn't seem to be listening, instead his gaze had hardened and he gave Callie an incredibly serious look. Her heart thundered in her chest, and she found herself unable to hold his gaze, instead looking away.

"Thank you," Brandon said softly. "For everything."

Callie just nodded, "Right." Was all she could manage. The nurse clearly didn't pick up on the fact she was interrupting something, and was beginning to take Brandon's temperature and blood pressure.

Callie gave him one last smile, before she retreated from the bedroom.

As she headed down the hallway towards the elevators a realization occurred to her: she'd spent her entire shift in Brandon Foster's room. She never spent her entire shift with one patient! She'd only done that twice before. It was incredibly rare for her to not move from patient to patient. Usually she'd get a minimum of two, and more often three or four patients in three hours time. Both, because families would arrive mid-shift to see their son/daughter/niece/nephew etc, and because she would make the executive decision to check on other patients after spending approximately an hour with one patient. She only ever stayed when she felt a patient truly needed her (or if she was holding an adorable baby, because who could ever leave that?).

Yet, with Brandon it was different. He was her age, sixteen, he hadn't needed her to stick around. So, why had she? Probably because of his family, his mom had insisted he needed someone. That's why I did it. She decided, and yet, she didn't feel as if that justified her actions. There was something more. Something she wouldn't admit to herself.

Whatever the reason was, Callie wasn't sure, but she was sure of one thing.

She hadn't wanted to leave.

And, she wished she could see him again.

But that wasn't how the hospital operated, she didn't see patients twice.