Disclaimer: I don't own the Fosters, only the plot and any characters you don't recognize from the show.

Author's Note: Despite being away so long, I don't really have anything to say for myself other than I'm sorry. Thanks to those of you who are still reading this. I hope I will be updating more often, but I'm not making any promises. I do have a rough outline of where I'm going with this, but nothing more is written as of yet. I just haven't been feeling it. I just had this scene in my head randomly, typed it up quickly, and put it out there, so sorry in advance about any mistakes that might crop up.

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Chapter 9: Night Awakenings

Stef woke. Something was wrong. The clock next to the bed blinked 2:43 am. She and Lena had only gone to bed a few hours earlier. Even though Callie had put Becky to bed, they had eight others to take care of, even if most of those only needed a reminder to actually turn the lights off and go to bed. And then she and Lena had stayed up, talking about Becky and making plans. She was going to head over to the local police department in the morning, but it wasn't really morning yet. That reminded her; why was she up again at 2:44 am? She lay still and listened. Nothing sounded off, but she knew she'd never get back to sleep this way, so she got up. She'd make a cup of tea, wander the house, check on the kids, make sure everything was alright. Carefully, so she wouldn't wake Lena, Stef slid her feet into slippers, pulled on a robe, and padded out into the hallway.

Out in the hallway, she could hear it, the soft tossing and turning and whimpering that, in this household at least, only spelled one thing. Nightmares. But whose? Not Emma; Emma was sleeping soundly for once, and her nightmares were usually louder. She passed Danny and Patrick's door, but the noise wasn't coming from there. That left really only one possibility. Becky. She should have guessed. After reliving the nightmare of her life for them, it made sense that the monsters would come out into her dreams.

"Becky?" she called softly. No response. She gently opened the door, glad, and not for the first time, they didn't have locks on their bedroom doors. The nightlight gently lit the space, illuminating the girl on the bed, blankets in disarray, a look of intense pain on her face. She crossed the short distance to the bed. "Becky?" she called a little louder, not wanting to scare the girl, and rested a gentle hand on one of the girl's. It was wet, and she could feel the girl's pulse pounding.

"No, don't, please, stop, please, no, I'm sorry, no, don't, please." The girl started thrashing.

"Shhh, shhhh, you're safe. It's just a nightmare," Stef said, trying to calm her.

"No, please, don't hurt me, please, stop, I'm sorry, don't." She seemed to be getting more upset. Stef moved her arms to Becky's shoulders. Her pajama top was soaked with sweat, as were her sheets. She knew then she needed to wake her up, despite most of the research that said sleepers were better off in the long run if you didn't wake them from a nightmare. Even in California, November nights when you were sopping wet were no joke. She gave the sleeping girl a sharper nudge.

"Becky," she called louder. "You should wake up. It's just a nightmare. You're safe. You're not there. They can't hurt you..." Her reflexes saved her a cracked skull or broken nose as Becky shot into a sitting position, eyes wide with panic and breathing heavily.

"What? I.. Who?" she gasped.

Stef held her hands loosely. "Becky. It's Stef. You're in Haven. You're safe. You were having a nightmare." She kept it simple, as long experience had taught her how disoriented kids were waking in the middle of a strange house.

"Stef...Haven...safe..." Becky breathed out, and then, to the older woman's surprise, threw herself at Stef, sobbing. And Stef just hung on, anchoring her in the storm.

She stroked Becky's hair, murmuring endearments and soothing words, as the girl's tears soaked the shoulder of her shirt. "Shhh, it's okay, sweetheart. Let it out. I can't take away the pain, but I can ride it out with you. You're safe now. Safe and sound." She kept her breathing calm and regular, a strong bulwark against the flood of emotions that was threatening to drown the girl in her arms.

She didn't know how long it lasted, but eventually the waterfall became a leaky faucet, and the sobbing became hiccups and snifles. She reached for the nightstand, and offered Becky a tissue. "Here, blow," she said, the same words mothers had used for generations with their children. "Feeling a little better?" she asked gently.

Becky nodded, looking down. "Sorry," she whispered. They were so close Stef could feel the heat as the blood rose to the girl's face.

"Crying's nothing to be ashamed about," Stef chided lightly. "It's a cathartic release. Never be sorry for crying. Feel sorry for those who can't."

"I'm a mess," Becky whispered, looking down at herself. "And I've made you one, too."

"Not the first time, won't be the last," Stef said dismissively. "Come on," she said, offering the girl a hand. "Let's get you out of those wet things so you don't catch a cold."

"I don't have any other pjs."

"Good thing we do then." She guided Becky into the hallway, to the closet Callie had pointed out earlier. She grabbed a new set of sheets and blankets from the top. "Your size is probably around there," she said to Becky, pointing a shelf out. "Why don't you grab something and change in the bathroom? Splash a little water on your face or something if you want. I'll remake the bed."

"You don't have to do that."

"Maybe not. But I want to. No arguing. It's too late." Becky nodded her agreement and Stef left her there at the closet. It was a matter of minutes stripping the twin bed and remaking it. Even her pillows were soaked, though, so Stef had to go back and get some more. Becky was gone, but a light shown from the cracks around the bathroom door and she could hear the sound of water running. She tossed the used sheets into a pile in the corner of the hall.

Becky came out of the bathroom. "Better?" Stef asked. She nodded. "Bed's ready," she offered.

"Thanks," the girl whispered, but she made no move back to the room. She just stood there, looking at her feet.

Stef didn't have to be a mind-reader to know what she wasn't saying. "I was going to go downstairs to make myself a cup of tea. Would you care to join me?" Becky nodded. Stef gathered up the sheets under one arm, and led the way downstairs.

"Have a seat," she said, gesturing to the counter. "I'm just gonna drop these in the laundry room."

Becky was sitting down once she came back, and Stef filled the kettle with water and put it on the stove. "If you want to talk about it, I'm here for you. But I'm not going to make you," she offered. Becky nodded, but said nothing. Stef matched her silence until the kettle whistled.

"I'm going to have chamomile," she announced. "It always makes me feel relaxed. But we have other options. Or I could make you hot chocolate?"

"I like chamomile," Becky said softly.

"Two cups of chamomile, then." She placed a teabag in each mug, and poured hot water over them, passing one to Becky. "Honey?" she offered, after putting some in her own cup. Becky nodded, and Stef passed her the honey. They sat there in the kitchen, sipping tea quietly.

"I'm sorry," Becky said, breaking the silence.

"For what?"

"Waking you."

"You didn't. I was already up." And it was true. She was up before she knew Becky was having a nightmare.

"Really?"

"Yeah. Sometimes I have trouble sleeping too, and I get up and make myself a cup of tea." It wasn't really a lie, after all.

"Oh. Okay." The silence returned.

Stef finished her tea. "I think I'm ready to go back to bed now. Are you ready to try going back to sleep? You can stay up if you want. I'll stay too, if you want me to." Becky just looked at her feet. "I know the nightmares are scary, but they're not real."

"That's what Callie said."

"What did she say?"

"She made me repeat it. I am safe here. Nothing can hurt me while I sleep. Even if I have nightmares of what happened, it's not happening again."

"I taught her that."

"Did Callie have nightmares?"

"Sometimes. Dreams are one of the ways our bodies process things."

Becky nodded. "I think I'm ready to go back to bed now," she said, mimicking Stef's earlier words.

"Feeling a little drowsy?"

"Yeah."

"Alright. If you're ready." They went back upstairs, and Stef followed Becky into her room, tucking her in. "Repeat after me. I am safe here."

"I am safe here."

"Nothing can hurt me while I sleep."

"Nothing can hurt me while I sleep."

"Even if I have nightmares about what happened, it's not happening again."

"Even if I have nightmares about what happened, it's not happening again."

"May your dreams be sweet, Becky. And if you need me, don't be afraid to come across the hall." Becky nodded. "I want to hear you say it."

"Okay. I will."

"Good. Sleep well, Becky." If she had known the girl better, she might have pressed a kiss against her forehead, but she settled for gently brushing a strand of hair off her forehead. And Becky didn't flinch away. It was a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

She tried to be quiet, but the springs creaked as she crawled back into bed. "Hmm, Stef?" Lena asked sleepily. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing babe. Go back to sleep," Stef said. Her wife sighed and wrapped an arm around her stomach, pulling her close.

"You too," Lena said.