Sanford Wesley Clark stepped into the ranch bright eyed and vulnerable, stepped out wounded and dark. When a strange young girl from invites him to be a part of her own personal project Sanford wonders if his past will let him have a future. SanfordXOC

This is a Changeling fanfiction that's been focused on Sanford Clark. This fanfiction is based around both the movie and history but mostly the movie so don't worry. And though many sources will say that Sanford is Stanford, his name is indeed Sanford. Well anyways, alongside wanting to kill Captain Jones and all those other LAPD ass holes, I kept wondering about Sanford! And how on earth a young boy that traumatized would hold up. Lastly, in reality, Sanford went on to attend an all boy's school somewhere before returning to Canada, I meddled a bit with the truth in this fanfiction. Hope that's okay. So this is basically about him. Oh, and, keep in mind this was in the late 1920's.

Boys and girls impeded at the sound of the relentless school bell and thunderclaps of lockers slamming. By the time the bell had ended, Sanford Clark was halfway inside his Biology class.

He quickly took his seat, on the third row and by the window blinds. The blinds were hardly ever uncovered and the window was never open. It was a very dull school, had a knack for keeping their hand over misbehaving students. It wasn't something they had intended the school to be known for but over time Sanford guessed it just became that way.

He lowered his books onto his desk and glanced to his left. Yeah, he couldn't see anything through those blinds.

But it was nice to acknowledge that something was there.

Before you knew it, all the chairs were sat on by students. Boys with beige vests and girls with black or brown skirts that ended at the rims of their neat white socks, all of them giggling and passing notes back and forth.

Mrs. Fleming, a timed educator with a short fuse, took a sharp glare at the note being passed to the back of the room. "We've only just begun our classes, do you intend on wasting every second?"

Nobody replied, or looked up. The notes never really came to Sanford. To anyone else, the reason might be hard to grasp. They hadn't known about his dark past, they'd heard about a serial killer back in America but this was Canada- other things were happening, the name of the boy that came forward was the last thing on their mind

As far as they knew, Sanford Clark looked just like any other sixteen year old did. He was fifteen years old back when he was kept captive was Northcott Ranch at Riverside County California. Two months, he spent getting through the paperwork, the public, the eyes of America and an extra month getting to know his parents again, getting to know himself again. Now, no one would have realized he had been through months of trauma. He looked normal, he wore scuffed brown leather shoes and gray pants, his white blouse was loose with rolled up sleeves and his beige cap was placed up on the hanger before every class. His hair was a fair brown, his messy bangs ending below his dark eye brows.

His mind was always just too occupied to take in silly notes from silly kids. He felt as though he was above them, older than them, wiser than them, had more authority than them. But at the same time he felt like he owed each and every one a greater apology than anyone could ever fathom. This was why he had no friends.

There was no doubt in anyone's mind that Sanford Clark wasn't exactly a good kid; there was also no doubt that Sanford had some sort of secret he wasn't inclined to share with anyone.

The passing of notes was interrupted again by Mrs. Fleming.

"I take it you're all unexcited about meeting our new student?"

Her words hindered the students like the school bell had. The idea of a new student tickled them all.

"Riley Fischer." Mrs. Fleming turned to the door, welcoming a girl who took a few deep breaths before peeking her head into the room.

As she poked out her green eyes to examine the room, long locks of hazel hair tied with a long white ribbon fell behind her ears.

She stood up straight, revealing a slender but short girl of pale skin and a beautiful small smile.

She wore black shoes with shining silver buckles, the elegance of it however diminished with her white socks- one slid down to her ankles and the other perfectly upright. She wore along with her imperfect socks a sweet blue dress with a white collar.

She turned her head to Sanford; her ample eyes sparkled with an inquiring glow.

Sanford replied with the same blank stare.

And they shared a quiet, long moment free of evil.

"Riley," One girl put her hand up with a smile. "Come on, sit over here."

She was already known 'round the neighborhood.

While Mrs. Fleming began a speech on something about new students and welcoming and the Biology courses, the girl who had invited Riley over to sit spoke to her softly.

"See, that's the boy I was telling you about." She pointed at Sanford.

Riley smiled a bit pleasantly. "I knew it."

The girl, who was named Claire, spoke in a whisper- Mrs. Flemming had already begun going over the homework. "He's weird as ever. I've heard him talk about twice this entire year."

"That's bizarre, what does he say when you talk to him?"

Claire scoffed, "Are you kidding? No one talks to Clark."

Riley gave her pencil a good chew at this. If no one talked to Clark, how could they expect him to talk back? Kids could be stupid sometimes. Before she knew it, the whole class was looking at her and Mrs. Flemming was screaming her name.

"Miss Fischer!"

Riley shot up from her seat, the pencil still inside her mouth, she pulled it out of there as quick as she could. "Yes, sir! Oh damn, I mean 'ma'am'. I mean- not damn, uhm, yes ma'am?"

The class laughed.

Even Sanford let out a small laugh as he turned his head back around to face the board and away from Riley Fischer.

Sanford had heard the bell for the sixth time that day. He had just stepped out of Mr. Lightwood's math class, for some reason, he was always the first to be ready to leave the class and always the first in the next class. He never thought about this much but the truth was that over the six months Sanford had been attending Brickwall High, Sanford enjoyed being at school. He was never a studious person before moving to America but he missed that sense of normalcy in his life. He needed some sort of routine that was known to him and not someone else. He was sick of being surprised by arbitrary trips to arbitrary towns picking up arbitrary kids. But more than that, he was sick of not being surprised by them. Over time, Sanford had begun to expect the car to be there in the morning, engine running, good working tires, and his uncle well combed and dressed. He needed a routine. But not just any routine, he needed a routine that any old fifteen year old kid could have.

But this was lunch time, a bit different. He wasn't so enthusiastic about sitting with these kids who looked at him like he was an animal. The worst thing was that he legitimately believed that he was an animal. A dangerous, pathetic cross between a snake and a hamster.

People kept their distance from him when he was in line at the cafeteria. But while he was thinking about how he was starting to dislike the taste of bread, a tray knocked against his.

Before he even turned his head to look, he could already guess who it was. He glanced, of course, to confirm. Riley Fischer was reaching over to grab a gray-ish hotdog, biting her tongue as she tiptoed to get it, in the process a bit of her hair fell into her potato salad. She sighed, pulling her hair back to examine the muddled locks and he couldn't help but take a second glance. Her face was striking, her cheeks were tight and rosy, her lips pursed in a frustrated pout and her eyes so fixed on the mischievous potato salad. This was probably why she was so popular with the school but Sanford could see beyond her face and bright dress- there was a clumsiness and messiness about her that was almost destructive. She was a chaotic kid.

She hadn't noticed him there. When she had she blinked and silently told her mischievous potato salad to behave himself.

The line had eventually progressed and the last bowl of chocolate pudding was between them.

"You can have it if you want," Sanford said. "I'm not really a fan of sweet things."

With a smile, Riley shrugged and put it on her plate. "Thanks Sanford."

The line ended with deserts and it was time to retreat back to your own tables.

"It's Sanford right?"

"It is."

"I know your Dad. I mean, my Dad knows your Dad."

"Oh," he bit his lip and his eyes trailed around the corners of the cafeteria room. He hunted through the files in his brain for a more colorful response but his findings came down to one. His tongue twisted in a tangle and his first word escaped as a stutter. "Welcome to Vancouver."

She beamed sweetly. "Thanks."

A loud voice reached over from the other side of the room, "Riley!"

She jerked her head back and held her heavy tray by one hand while her other waved at the table which was filled to the brim with kids.

She looked back at Sanford, "Where are you sitting?"

"Uhm," he took a peak at the table behind her which so desperately called for her presence. One of them whispered to the other and gave Sanford a look that made him feel like even more of an animal than before. He silently added raccoon to the list. "Your friends are calling you again."

"Oh," she looked back. "See you again, okay?"

He responded with a weak smile. He took his first steps to his table backwards, deciding to take a small number of moments to watch the only girl who'd said his name so friendlily skip to her table and watch the blue of her dress sway from left to right and the hazel of her hair bounce with her ribbon. But the girl turned around and ran back to him with something hidden behind her back.

She pulled the bowl of chocolate pudding before him and put it on his tray. "Everyone likes pudding."