AUTHORS NOTE: This chapter is R for sexual content and self-mutilation. Please read and review also. You can review by scrolling down to the bottom left hand corner and clicking GO next to SUBMIT REVIEW. Thanks everyone. I don't own DTNG, Craig…

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Callie ran into the house, crying. She was always one to be over-emotional, and slammed the door of the house at her own risk. Wiping her black tear stained face she stormed into the kitchen, banging her hands around the oak drawers in the dark. Opening the utensil drawer she pulled out a large steak knife, staring at the cold razor edge very sincerely. She watched her image reflect in the cold steel, and grazed her index finger across the wooden handle. She turned with her back towards who ever was watching TV in the darkened living room, and felt her tears splattering on the counter. She leaned over the stone sink, putting the large knife against her skin, grazing the bitter metal into her arm.

Craig rose up from the couch, wiping his eyes.

"Callie?" he said, walking towards her black silhouette. Callie fumbled and dropped the knife in the sink, her blood splattering rapidly from her arm. She turned on the water immediately, splashing it around the four corners of the sink. As her blood rushed down the drain Craig walked a little closer, turning on the light. Callie turned her head back to him, holding her wrists over the sink.

"Hi," she said, trying to hide them.

"You're bleeding," he said in a very calm and collective demeanor. He hurried over to the counter sleepily, unraveling as many paper towels as he could and gluing them to her arms. After seeing a scarlet stain sink through the white paper Craig lifted up the paper towels, looking at her large gash. Callie started to cry as she watched Craig study her arm. She wanted to tell him she was sorry, and that he was right about Shane, that he was right about a lot of things.

"I'm sorry, you were right, Shane is such a…"

"Don't worry, I don't care. Why did you do this?"

Silence.

"It's alright, let's go upstairs and get you cleaned up." Craig and Callie walked upstairs to his bathroom, where Craig cleaned up Callie's arm. As he silently bandaged it up, he felt slightly relieved. For a moment, Callie was letting him back into her life. They were actually in a room, together, not arguing. Though she looked a little dizzy to him, she seemed almost drug and alcohol free. With a Kleenex he wiped her black raccoon eyes, slowly erasing the black streaks. Then, leaving her in the bathroom he walked into her room, opening her suitcase on the ground. He quickly pulled out a soft purple Ralph Lauren polo shirt, as well as a pair of long, Gap jeans. It almost seemed like he had to blow the dust of off them. He brought them back into the bathroom, holding them out to Callie.

"Why don't you put on some real clothes," he said. Callie was still crying, and took the clothes from him very slowly. Craig shut the door behind him and collapsed into his bed, thinking. I knew she'd get heartbroken. Callie slipped her halter-top and mini short shorts off, putting on the fully wholesome clothes. She opened the door, a little more cleaned up now, and climbed into Craig's bed from the edge, pulling his plaid covers past both of them and neatly tucking them beneath their arms.

"This is the girl I know," he said, her face only an inch from his.

"I'm glad." Callie shifted her head onto his pillow, nuzzling her nose against his. Callie wanted to be loved. Not used, but loved. And she knew Craig always would. Being close to him made her feel safe, special. Things that random hook ups with Shane, the Blockbuster guy, and the pizza deliverer couldn't fulfill.

Craig watched her shuteyes nuzzle against him, and when they opened, he kissed her. She kissed him back extremely slowly, nestling her foot with his beneath the covers. I want to cry right now. Weep with joy. How freaked out do you think he'd be by that? Everything was perfect until Craig's eyes shot open, feeling her warm hands on his jeans zipper.

"Whoa,"

She wouldn't stop.

"Callie!" he said, grabbing her hand.

"Craig, what the…"

"We can't do this."

"What?"

"We can't, not right now."

"No ones home, not like anyone ever is anymore!"

"Hey, c'mon!"

"Don't you want to?"

I can't lie.

"Yeah, I do."

"Than what's the problem?"

"You're upset!"

"I'm not upset. I love you."

"You're just confused," he said, redirecting her hand.

"Craig, I love you so much. We've waited long enough," she said, carrying him, though he assisted, on top of her.

He sighed. He wanted to, he really wanted too. He had wanted to since the first day her eyes met his. He wanted to since the first time he kissed her.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" Craig asked, staring his silky brown eyes down at Callie.

"Positive." She said, staring back up and kissing him, running her hands through his messy hair. He slowly swung his other leg over Callie's small body, and softly laid his body on top of hers. He unhurriedly put his hands on the bottom of Callie's polo shirt, and began to gradually pull it past her head.

She shut her eyes and positioned her arms above her head, assisting. This is perfect. Craig really loves me.

Callie tried to relax as she felt her thong being pulled down swiftly from underneath her. Somehow Craig had managed to shuffle her jeans off, and it really didn't matter how.

This is weird. Manny always made me take the lead. She almost…knows what to do already.

Callie took a deep breath as Craig pushed himself a little harder.

"Hey…slow down, okay?"

Craig nodded.