Disclaimer: Sorry, but I still don't own it.
A/N: Here is chapter nine! Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter, I'm ready glad y'all liked it! (: As for Thursday's episode (spoilers ahead, folks), I loved how Arizona treated Alex... She wasn't mean, but she didn't just let it go either... I loved it, haha. And I'm glad she's trying to be friends with Teddy. Teddy needs some friends, and I like her. I hope she doesn't just leave. Mark is starting to get on my nerves a little bit. He and Lexie broke up, so he doesn't get to be mad at Alex. And does Arizona know about Callie offering to raise Baby Sloan? I was waiting for some sort of confrontation about that, but it didn't happen, so now I'm wondering if she even knows. Anyway, that's enough of my rambling, so enjoy the chapter!


The Scars to Prove It
Chapter 9 : Bleed

The cold air hits her as she steps outside. Callie's shift is officially over, which means she doesn't have to deal with any more annoying patients or incompetent interns, but that isn't enough to make her glad to be leaving. The kiss from Arizona is weighing heavily on her mind - her lips still tingle where Arizona's touched, and she can still taste the blond's chapstick on her lips. All she wants is to feel that again, to have Arizona beside her again, in her arms...

Then she remembers Jose, and how she has to go meet him. Everything in her is screaming, "don't go!" but she doesn't feel like she has much of a choice. It's now or later. It's at the hospital, her apartment, or his hotel. This seems like the safest choice, the best time, the best place. It shouldn't take too long, either.

She adjusts the bag on her shoulder and starts walking. It's about eight now, and there's no telling when Jose will decide he's done with her. Hopefully it won't take too long. She doesn't want to spend more time with him than absolutely necessary.

As she slides into her car, Callie suddenly remembers that Mark gets off in a few hours. An idea starts to form in her head and she digs through her purse for her cell phone. She sends him a text telling him to page her if she isn't at her apartment by the time he gets there. Cristina is on-call tonight anyway, so it's not like him banging on the door will disturb anyone. She waits for his confirmation text (it's a simple "ok") before pulling out of the parking lot and making her way to the hotel that Jose had to told her to meet him at.

It's obvious that he has been waiting on her because he pulls open the door and urges her inside before she even finishes knocking. Callie slips into the room and an uneasy feeling settles on her, but she shakes it off. Of course she feels uneasy; she's standing alone in a room with Jose.

"Have a seat," he offers, and she nods. She walks over to the chair and gently sits on it. The room looks old and dirty and she wouldn't have been surprised if a dust cloud had come up when she put her weight on the furniture. He takes a seat on the couch, and she's glad that she took the chair. She may have had to sit by him had she chosen the sofa.

"Why did you want me to come here?" Callie asks, cutting to the chase.

"I have news," he says slowly. Callie waits impatiently for him to tell her, and so eventually he sighs. "Damien is out of his coma."

She can't help but smile. "That's great!" she exclaims. Then she notices his averted gaze, closed fists, and deep frown. "What?" she asks. "Why isn't that good news?"

Another sigh escapes Jose's lips. "He has amnesia," he says. "He thinks Brandon is still alive."

Realization starts to sink in and the pieces start to fall together. Damien thinks Brandon is alive. He doesn't remember the past, what, 10 years? Maybe more than that? He's stuck in the past. Plus, her dad knows about Jose. It's only a matter of time before Carlos tells everybody, and then Damien will have little trouble figuring out the connection. He's not stupid.

They sit in silence as the information continues to process in Callie's brain. A few times she has tried to speak, only to find her sentences come out incoherent and incomplete. Jose waits, seemingly patient, for her to get a hold on herself and the situation.

"How do you know?" Callie finally asks. Her father wouldn't call and tell him, not if he really knew, and it's doubtful that her mom would call either. Carlos has probably already ordered her not to talk to Jose.

A small smirk tugs at Jose's lips. "Your aunt told me," he says. It makes sense. Jose and her mother's sister have always been close friends. In fact, according to the stories Callie remembers, her aunt is how her mom met both Jose and Carlos. And goodness knows her aunt wouldn't pay any attention to an order from Callie's father.

Callie nods. What is she supposed to say now? 'Well, that sucks'? 'Too bad'? It's a wonder that Damien even woke up after so many months. She can't be disappointed or upset. He's awake, he's alive. That's reason to celebrate.

"I think your dad plans to tell them tonight," Jose says. "I wonder how they'll take it?" His voice sounds much too calm for the situation. There is no underlying anger, no edge of spite, no hint of fear. He sounds calm and almost confident.

That scars her. She studies his face carefully, looking for any flaws in the mask Jose has set in place. She finds very few and the ones she does find do little to ease her mind. There's a defiant smirk tugging at the corners of his lips and a flash of triumph in his eyes. His eyebrows are raised just a few centimeters higher than normal, almost in a "try me" or "hit me with your best shot" manner. He is sitting up straight with his head held high, and everything about his posture screams "proud."

Callie shifts uncomfortably in her seat before she can tell herself not to, and this does not go unnoticed by Jose. He lets out a throaty, amused chuckle at her. She looks at him strangely, because he's acting very out of character and she doesn't like it at all. She would rather have the old Jose back, the one she had been confronted with a few hours ago. Then she would at least know what to expect. The not-knowing is worse than anything.

She glances at the clock on the wall and has to hold back a sigh. She has nearly another hour before Mark gets off and can page her. It's going to be a long hour, but there's a part of her that still hopes she's wrong and it will go by quickly. Or maybe Jose will decide he's done with her before then. That is even more doubtful, but one can hope, right?

"Would you like a glass of wine?" Jose offers suddenly, pushing himself off the couch and making his way to the small kitchen.

"No, I'm good," she says. She really wouldn't mind a glass of wine - or, more preferably, something much stronger - but she doesn't want to drink with Jose. It's probably not his style, but she doesn't want to worry about arsenic or poisoning. And even without that, the alcohol would cloud her judgement. There's no telling what she would say or do or what he would be able to get away with. She needs to keep her thinking sharp, her reflexes quick.

"What's one glass going to hurt, Calliope?" he asks as he pulls out two bottles. It sure doesn't look like he's planning on just one glass.

Callie has to bite her tongue to keep from saying anything about his use of her full name. She shrugs even though he isn't looking at her at the moment and says carefully, "Really, I'm fine."

She watches as he pulls down two wine glasses despite her protests. There's a second while he's reaching into the cabinet that she gets a good look at him, and in that second, she wonders how she let him take such control over her. She can understand when she was little. Jose has always been a strong man, and that hasn't changed over the years. But now she's strong, too, or at least she thought she was. She's tough and independent and hell, she's badass. She's a rockstar. She breaks bones for a living. And yet here Jose is, with his thinning gray hair and his wrinkling skin, striking fear in her. He's an accountant. He works with numbers all day. He's sharp and strong, maybe even stronger than her, but she could give him a run for her money and she knows it. They both know it. She could fight back, or she could call the cops. She could do something.

Yet her she sits, taking the glass of wine that he hands to her, even though she doesn't plan to drink it. All because she's too afraid to say no. All because those 'lessons' he taught her so many years ago are now ingrained into her brain, to the point that she wouldn't dare to break the rules. All because she was too scared to tell anyone all those years back, too scared to get help.

He has settled back on the couch and is watching her as he sips his wine. One of the two bottles sits on the coffee table between them. She brings the glass to her lips and pretends to take a sip, partly so he thinks she's drinking and partly because she just wants to have something to do.

They sit in silence until Jose sets his now-empty wine glass on the table and clears his throat. "So, your father tells us you're gay now."

"Yeah," she says, trying to keep her voice steady. What does this have to do with anything?

"What brought this on?" he asks as he leans back into the sofa.

She shrugs. "I don't know," she says simply. She isn't sure if she should be annoyed or worried or relieved. Is it a good thing or a bad thing that he's bringing it up?

He nods. "You know, your sister didn't approve of that sort of thing."

"I know. She barely talked to me." Definitely not a good thing.

"Was it really worth all of that, Calliope? Is liking a woman really worth losing your whole family over?" He watches her carefully. She's sure he sees the pain that has found its way into her eyes. She's sure he has noticed that she's sitting even straighter, her muscles tensed.

"Jose..."

"It's a simple question, Calliope."

Callie sighs. "It's not a choice."

"Okay," he says, but Callie can see the wheels turning in his head.

They fall back to an awkward silence, and that is how they sit for the remainder of the time. Sometimes Jose attempts to start a conversation, but none are ever anything Callie is interested in talking about or sharing. He's about to say something else when her pager goes off. She fights to keep the relieved smile from her face as she takes the pager out of her purse and checks it, just in case it isn't a real emergency. Plus, she has to make it look real. She leans forward, placing her barely-used wine glass onto the coffee table before standing up.

"I've got to take this," she tells him, holding the pager up in case he needed proof.

"Alright," Jose agrees. "Go save lives." He gets up to walk her to the door, and she gives him a weird look. This is just another out-of-character thing to add to the list.

They have nearly reached the door when he shoves her backward. She stumbles, but manages to keep herself from falling. He steps up to her, grabbing her arm with his left hand. "You aren't going anywhere," he says through clenched teeth, pushing himself so close to her that they are nearly touching.

She's about to protest when his arm brushes against her stomach. The next thing she knows, cold steel is pressing against her bare skin as Jose pushes his knife into her stomach.

"What you found sure upset you
Never saw it coming, did you?
It's easy to be surprised with

Both your eyes sewn closed

Handled with great precision
Another faultless execution."
"If You Can't Leave It Be, Might As Well Make It Bleed" - Dashboard Confessional