Author's notes: Warning, mild sexual content ahead. As usual, nothing above PG-13, but this is not a happy chapter.

XXX

They didn't stop kissing until the inner door of the garage was opening into the kitchen. Callie jumped away, laughing and breathless, turning to face Hannah as she entered, weighed down with groceries.

"Hey, guys." Hannah barely gave the two of them a second glance. Dinner was usually on the table thirty minutes from now, and she was undoubtedly flustered. The knowledge that she had been that close to catching them kissing made Callie's stomach flip, a combination of exhilaration and apprehension making it hard to even look at Hannah.

"Happy birthday, Callie," she was saying now, head half inside the refrigerator. "Glad you can have dinner with us on your big day."

"Yeah, me too." Her voice came out husky, but Hannah took no notice. Liam smirked at her behind his mother's back, swiping a cherry tomato from the grocery bags. Callie desperately hoped her face wasn't flushed. She took several furtive glances at the groceries, but there didn't appear to be a cake among them.

Liam grabbed a second tomato. "Hey, Mom, can Callie have a drink?"

"Of course, she knows where everything – do you mean alcoholic?" Hannah paused in scrubbing potatoes, truly looking at her son for the first time.

"Come on, it's her birthday. You know high schoolers, if they can't get it at home, they'll drink at parties."

"Yeah, 'cause I go to so many of those." Both of them ignored her comment, which was for the best. Callie tried to catch Liam's eye, but he was giving Hannah his best persuasive smile. "I really don't need anything," she tried again.

Hannah flicked a potato peel into the garbage can. "Sixteen is so young to be drinking."

"Oh, I'm not…"

"Right, 'cause you and dad totally waited until you were freshmen to have your first glass of wine." Liam overrode her easily, one eyebrow raised from actually scoffing at his mom. They all knew perfectly well Liam wasn't suggesting Callie just have a glass of wine.

Hannah said nothing for a long moment, sliding her potatoes into the oven. "Well, I suppose wine would be fine with dinner," she finally relented, and Liam's face was priceless. "If Callie's up for it, we can maybe have something else with dessert."

Liam seemed to know not to push his luck any further, because he absently motioned Callie to the wine rack, not even trying to hide his annoyance. "Pick something girly, I'll just have a beer."

"Oh, will you?" Liam didn't seem to deem Hannah's sardonic mutter worthy of his reply, and Callie tried to catch her eye to make sure she was really all right with this. "I'm in the mood for white," Hannah told her, not looking up from the salmon she was seasoning. Clearly, the subject was closed.

Tentatively selecting a bottle, she desperately hoped Hannah didn't think Liam had put her up to asking for any of this. "Do you want any help?"

"You can make the salad – if Liam left us any tomatoes."

Liam merely smirked from the table, foam from his beer lingering at the corner of his mouth. Callie wanted nothing more than to lick it off, though she hated the few sips of beer Liam had given her in the past. Sternly, she told herself to keep busy, silently shredding lettuce before chopping onions and cucumbers.

"Your brother hated those," Hannah remarked, glancing at the cutting board. Callie gave Liam a questioning look, before realizing sharply that she was talking about Jude.

"Oh, I know, he always said cucumbers were slimy." Abruptly, she realized she was referring to him in the past tense, and winced.

"Glad to see it's not a family trait." There was nothing to say to that, and she suddenly wished Liam would pester his mom about anything else. As though getting her silent hint, he took Callie's chosen wine from the fridge, though it couldn't be close to chilled. Uncorking it expertly, he poured two glasses.

"Your drinks, ladies?" He gave a theatrical little bow.

Callie couldn't help laughing. "I hope you didn't do that when you were a waiter."

Anger sparked in his eyes. "I wasn't allowed to serve the alcohol." Hannah squeezed his arm affectionately, and they all three laughed, Liam's defensive tension almost seeming to evaporate.

She took a tentative sip, startling as the alcohol burst over her tongue. White wine was very different from the few sips of red she'd had from her mother so many years ago, or maybe she had just forgotten the taste.

"I thought you might like this, it's very light." Hannah swirled her glass, checking on her salmon filets. Phil would be home at any minute, and it looked like dinner was going to be ready just in time. How she had managed to not only bake potatoes, but prepare salmon to broil as well, Callie had no idea.

"Thanks for letting me try it." She took another, surer swallow.

"Well, sixteen is practically an adult. If you can handle the responsibility of working, you can certainly have a glass or two of wine."

Callie felt Liam's gaze drilling into the side of her face, and she looked into her glass to avoid looking at his mom. It wasn't like a year made much of a difference, really. She was probably more mature than a lot of sixteen year olds at her school.

Phil breezed in just then, saving her from any more guilt. "Goodness, does everyone drink around here now?" was the first thing he said to Callie. "Well, I suppose it is your birthday." She wasn't sure why it surprised her that both Olmstead parents had actually remembered, but it made her feel warm – or maybe that was due to the wine.

By the time they were halfway through the meal, she was on her second glass. She hadn't planned on having more, but she'd served herself potatoes, and looked up to find it sitting, refilled, by her plate.

"To the birthday girl!" Phil proposed, raising his own goblet. "How old are you now, 16?"

"Sure," she laughed, clinking her glass with his. Liam extended his beer bottle, and she somehow nearly spilled wine all over the table. "Too bad Jude couldn't have been here," she said to the table at large, draining her glass. Wow, she was kinda buzzed. That had happened quick.

"He wouldn't have enjoyed your salad," Hannah was quick to remind her.

"I know. Still, would be nice."

"Have you heard from Bill about where he was placed?" Phil asked mildly. At least they could talk about Jude. The same could not have been said for Janet.

She shook her head. "Nope. Do you know?"

"I'll see what I can find out, shall I?"

"Yeah, thanks, that'd be great."

"Ah, dessert?" Liam broke in, voice louder than it needed to be.

They ate sorbet, which Callie didn't exactly love. She remembered the cupcakes from that morning and Stef's note, so that helped her to keep smiling. Phil said something about opening another bottle of wine, but Liam asked if Callie could have a rum and coke instead. Phil made some comment about him taking advantage of Callie's special day, but didn't say no.

"It'll be better than this ice cream," Liam said in her ear as he got up. His breath on her skin felt good, and she wished he wasn't her secret boyfriend, so that he might put his arm around her in front of his parents.

"Look, dear, our son's a bartender." Hannah drawled, as Liam presented her with a fizzing drink. Callie got the sense that his parents were making fun of him, but it was hard to follow the conversation. She wanted to go curl up on the couch and fall asleep, even though it couldn't be much after eight.

"Don't you like it?" Liam nudged her with an elbow, gulping his own down like it was water. That was funny, she had thought this had been a special drink for her. Why did Liam get one too?

"Uh, sure." She took a hearty swallow to prove her point. He was right, it was very different from the citrus of the sorbet, almost tasting like vanilla. "Is this what the cool kids have at parties?" she asked, leaning into him slightly. Hannah was clearing the table, and Phil was making coffee, no one paying attention to them.

"Possibly." Liam's hand found hers under the table, and she had to work very, very hard not to smile as his fingers wrapped around her own. " Do you want to go with me to one sometime?"

"Like, to a college party?"

"God, no. Like some of my friends and I from high school hanging out."

"Really, I could go?"

"Sure, if you want. After all, you've suddenly grown an extra year tonight."

She burst out laughing, even though it hadn't seemed that funny half an hour ago. "Oh god, I know! What the hell? How do you forget how old I really am?"

"Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, CJ."

"Uh-uh, don't call me that."

"What, CJ? I thought that was what you liked these days?"

"It's my work name." The only person who got to call her that who she didn't work with was Stef. Man, things with Stef were so weird. What would she think about Callie being this…not sober? She would probably give her another mom look. If she didn't approve of Callie drinking coffee, she would really not like her drinking alcohol.

"You're so weird," Liam was saying, but she ignored him.

"Can you get me some water?" She thought that was what you were supposed to have after you'd been drinking. God, it was hard to think. Hannah was doing dishes, even though that was Callie's job. Since Jude had left, Hannah had been nicer about helping her with the after-dinner clean up. Jude wouldn't have liked Callie drinking either, but if Jude had ben here, she wouldn't have had more than that first glass of wine. Probably. She definitely wouldn't have had this rum and coke, even though it was somehow tasting better the more she drank.

"Finish that drink first, bossy."

"Nuh-uh, want water. Wasn't s'posed to have this much."

"It's not my fault you're a lightweight."

Jeez, she hadn't said it was. Liam was so sensitive sometimes, and not in a good way. She finished the stupid drink, just so he would stop whining. "Wanna call Jude." She tried to stand up, but the chair had gotten a lot harder to separate from. She grabbed the table for support, and the chair somehow ended up falling backwards.

Liam started laughing hard enough to choke on his final sip of coke. "Oh, my god!"

"What are you two doing over there?" Hannah called over the sound of the garbage disposal.

"Callie's just breaking furniture, it's okay." Liam picked up her chair, and she risked letting go of the table. The floor was mostly steady under her, but it was a lot better when Liam's arm came around her shoulders. "Play it cool, lightweight," he said in her ear. "Just until we get upstairs."

God, this was not supposed to have happened. Liam was saying something else to Hannah, before urging Callie to walk somewhere. Jude, she needed to call Jude. Where was her phone? Oh, right, she didn't have one anymore. That was probably good, since she wasn't sure she would be able to call the right person. It would be really weird if she called Taylor while she was…like this. Taylor might not want to be her friend anymore if Callie bugged her like that, even though she suddenly wanted nothing more than to tell Taylor how great she was. They were really friends, and it had happened out of nowhere, and she had no idea why, or even how, beyond Jude. God, she missed Jude.

She fumbled through her pockets for tissues as Liam urged her up the stairs, finding Stef's note instead. That was easier to wrap her fingers around, and she squeezed it. Things were weird with Stef, but Callie still liked it a lot. Stef kind of acted like a mom to Callie, even though she probably didn't mean to. She wished Stef were her and Jude's mom. She wouldn't forget how old Callie was turning, and she definitely wouldn't have served her gross birthday ice cream. But she still would have let Callie buy a birthday latte.

"Aww, don't cry, birthday girl." Liam guided her into her bedroom, which was nice.

She sniffed, rubbing the hem of her shirt over her eyes. "Thanks, Lee. You saved me from getting in trouble."

"It's the least I could do, lightweight."

"Will you stop calling me that?" She flopped on her bed, kicking off her shoes. Liam squeezed onto it beside her, close enough to kiss. As though reading her thoughts, he wasted no time rolling on top of her and claiming her mouth. He was heavy, and her head was still so thick. Was she this floaty from the alcohol, or the feel of his mouth? She couldn't tell, needed time to think. Had she ever drank water? She couldn't remember.

Her hands were on his chest, but he pushed them back down to her sides. "Just keep still."

"No, wanna call Jude. He goes to bed before us."

"You can call him later." Her door was closed – when had that happened? Liam was kissing her neck, hands coming up under the hem of her shirt. Ugh, not this again. Couldn't they just do good stuff on her birthday? She wasn't floating as much all of the sudden, and Liam was urging her into a sitting position. Just like that, her shirt was gone, even though she did not want it to be.

"Lee, wait, I don't think—"

"Shh. This is your present from me." His own shirt was halfway over his head, and something was not right. She was flat on her back again, Liam's vanilla-smelling breath whooshing all over her face. "You'll like this, promise. You'll love it."

Fast, it was all happening so, so fast. He was unbuttoning her jeans, and her hands were pushing against his shoulders, but he was just too heavy. Her voice wasn't coming out, though in her mind she was yelling for him to get off, demanding it.

"Liam, no, stop." Finally, some real words.

"Keep still, I said." Callused fingers, closing around first one wrist, then the other, before pinning them above her head.

"C'mon, no, I don't… n-n-no."

"Aww, quiet down, birthday girl."

Had Liam always been this strong? She was losing all feeling in her hands; god, she could not sit up! Where – where were his parents? Hadn't they noticed she and Liam had disappeared? And so what if they had? For all they knew, Liam was alone in his room, and their sloppy, stupid lightweight of a foster daughter was sleeping. Her eyes were burning, and she thought she might be sick.

Liam was fumbling with something now, unwrapping it. She looked down; saw her jeans in a pile on the floor. Her phone was so close. If she could only reach…but, no, no more phone, remember?

"Please, Liam, I don't wanna." She was crying again, could taste the salt as he kissed her.

He released her wrists, and for just one moment, she thought he was finally listening. His thumbs smoothed over her skin as the feeling began returning to her fingertips. She sucked in a careful breath, trying to make sense of the last few moments.

"Yeah, that's right, just relax. You'll like this." The only sound she managed to make was drowned out by his rapid, excited breaths. "You'll like this, you will."

If she could say something other than please, would that get through to him better? Strong, he was so strong… "Nnngh – don't – stop…"

He did not stop. And she did not like it.

XXX

"Hello?"

"Hey, monkey."

"Callie!" Jude was awful at whispering, even over the phone. "Hi! I waited up forever last night for you to call."

"Aww, you did? I'm sorry."

"It's okay. Did you have a good birthday? Did Phil and Hannah remember? I reminded them before I left, but I wasn't sure…"

"Oh, you did that? Thanks."

"You're welcome. I know it's not the same as us being together, but it was all I could think to do. So, how was it?"

"It was…different."

"Different good?"

"I don't know. I missed you a bunch."

"Yeah, me too." In the background, a child started crying. "Ugh, that's Caroline." Jude gave up even the pretense of whispering.

"Aww, do you miss being the baby of the family?"

"Nah, not really. I like her when she's not crying…which doesn't happen very much. I gotta go, her mom's gonna come in here in a sec." He began humming something under his breath, solely for Caroline's benefit, and Callie smiled.

"I love you, Jude. I'll try to see you soon."

"Yeah, love you too, sis."

It was painfully quiet without his voice in her ear. She hadn't expected him to answer, not only was it barely after 7 AM, but it was after 7 AM on a Saturday. Was living with this new family making it easier for him to get up in the mornings, or did no one get any sleep with a toddler in the house? Somehow, she hadn't considered there would be good things about them living apart.

There was nothing else that she needed privacy for, and people would be getting up soon. Reluctantly, she crept out of her brother's former room, where she had slept on top of a bare mattress. Liam had fallen asleep in her bed after…everything, and even though Jude's room didn't feel any safer, at least she had been alone.

She stood outside her own door for long minutes, trying to find enough courage to open it. Liam was a heavier sleeper than the entire family combined, and this was hours before his usual weekend rise time. Still, the idea of seeing him, even just in sleep, made her want to run. She needed to be at work in an hour. Liam could not touch her there, physically or otherwise. Stef had come in mid-morning on the last couple Saturdays, and even a few words of back and forth banter might be enough to snap her out of this pervasive fog.

Was this a hangover? Her head didn't hurt, but she did feel sick to her stomach. She had always thought hangovers came with the side effect of not remembering what you had done the night before. That was what her dad had always told her, anyway. Until this morning, she hadn't considered he might have been lying.

This isn't a hangover, it's you being terrified because that bastard hurt you, said a voice at the back of her head. That voice wasn't helping, so she told it to shut up, opening the door before she could agonize any further. Liam was on his stomach, one bare leg hanging off the side of her twin bed, clearly not used to being confined to such a small space. Their clothes were strewn over the floor, and she retrieved fresh ones from the closet as quietly as possible, leaving before the voice at the back of her head could suggest smothering him with a pillow.

She stood outside the shower for several minutes, just watching the water run through blurring eyes. She wanted nothing more than to scrub her skin off entirely, so that the new layer might grow back stronger, tougher. You weren't supposed to shower after…something like last night happened. She had seen enough crime shows to at least know that. But that was only if you needed proof for the police. Sure, Liam had forced her, but hadn't she led him on? He had come into her room, and she hadn't asked him to leave. She had been drunk, but so had he. She had asked him to stop, begged him to stop.

He kept promising she would enjoy it, like he always did. Was something wrong with her that she hadn't? They had been making out for a long time now, and she'd known he was impatient with how babyish she was about doing more. Still, she never thought that he would force her. So much of what had happened was a blur, but she vividly remembered his eyes, hard and intense.

When it was done, he's wrapped an arm around her, leaning his face into her hair. "See, that wasn't so bad, was it?" He acted like she'd received a filling at the dentist, or had blood drawn. He was asleep moments later, without waiting for her answer, not that she had one to give. On shaky legs, she'd picked out her warmest hoodie, sweatpants, and clean underwear, fleeing to the safest place in the house she could think of.

The thought of seeing him this morning had made her shake, which in turn made her want to cry. Twenty-four hours ago, Liam had been one of her favorite people, even if he hadn't ever been the kindest to Jude. Liam's temper had put her on edge from the start, which was the strangest thing about last night. He had been calm. Even when she had struggled, he had not once raised his voice. The tender places on her wrists told a different story, but she could still hear his gentle assurances in her ear. These marks couldn't have been done on purpose. He wouldn't have had to hurt her, if she'd just kept still, like he'd said.

She got into the scalding shower, praying it would make her feel better. Unsurprisingly, she just felt exhausted when it was done. I'm sorry I was so stupid, she sent up silently, rubbing at the steam-covered mirror. If her mom was listening, she made no indication.

What do I do? she tried again. How do I fix this?

Again, nothing came to her, even the voice at the back of her head keeping its mouth shut. If she could define what this was, maybe that would be a start. But that would mean giving voice to it, to the weight of Liam on top of her, to the excited hiss of his voice in her ear. Just yesterday afternoon, that had made her delighted. And now…now, everything felt supremely difficult. The idea of interacting with people at work, let alone looking happy about it, seemed insurmountable.

She stuck her hand in her jeans pocket, coming up with Stef's note from several weeks ago. Remember what I said. Callie hadn't cashed in on her birthday latte yesterday, but she would today. On top of that, getting a glimpse of Stef herself would make things that much more bearable.

Unless Stef was like Liam. After all, what did Callie really know about her? She was a cop, and what had cops ever done for Callie?

No, she would not think like this. Stef was her favorite customer, just like her birthday note had said Callie was her favorite barista. That was all. It was easier to have this tenuous connection, where nothing held them together but coffee. They had no further expectations of one another beyond a smile and a good tip.

Tell Stef what happened, urged the voice in her head. Tell her, and she can help.

No, that would make everything more complicated. An awful, blotching bruise was forming on the underside of her right wrist, and she wasn't sure how she was supposed to hide it. It was too hot for long sleeves, but she couldn't go out looking like this. Maybe it would be busy enough that no one would notice?

But maybe they would. Did she want them to? Did she want Stef to?

She wasn't sure, and was out of time to decide. She went downstairs in a blouse and jeans, Stef's note tucked in the hip pocket like a security blanket.

Callie was two blocks from home before remembering that she had never been fond of security blankets. After all, they only created a temporary sense of safety.

XXX

Author's notes: As usual, a huge, huge thanks to tunedtochords and starophie for being my sounding boards and betas. I would not shut up about this chapter, so they had to put up with a lot.

Ugh, this chapter. I'm sorry, I know it was rough. I put off writing it for weeks. I know it's tempting to hate Liam, but I wanted to illustrate that he does like Callie - in his own twisted way - and was trying to convince himself that she would enjoy being with him, if she were only more relaxed. That is in no way an excuse, but it is something that happens, especially when the other party is drunk. Things have to get terrible before they can get better. In the show, Callie has always had Jude to consider. Now, she only has herself to worry about, and she's not so sure she's worth much.

This is all my longwinded way of saying to hold on, I will make things right.