I'm updating this a lot more than I thought I would! I wasn't going to post this today, but that lovely review I got from Dark Angel Kira (thanks so much!!!) inspired me to finish the chapter. It's not as good as I'd like it to be, but I'm a perfectionist about this stuff. I've decided to have a healthy Marisol as a character, because I think she's cool. I've only seen two episodes with her in it (the first two she's in) so I'm pretty much making her character up as I go. As always, feedback is much appreciated and (as was the case here) makes me update faster! Anyway, I hope you like it. ~Callum~
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Eric frowned and glared at his watch. It must be lying. Either that, or Callum was in the bathroom for nearly an hour. Finally letting his curiosity get the better of him, he went to check it out. What he saw horrified him at first.
"Cal! Cal, what happened?" The Cuban rushed up to the teen and yanked him back from the sink. The water inside was bright red.
"Let… Let me go!" Cal yelled, straining to go back to the soap and water. His hands tried to pry Eric's arms from around his shoulders, but they couldn't get a grip because they were coated with blood.
"Callum, you're bleeding. You need to stop!"
"No!" He tried to knock Eric away, but his attempts were fruitless. "I need to get it off! I can still feel it, Eric, it's burning me!" Startled, Eric jumped backwards. For a moment, Cal was too surprised at his sudden release to move. Then he rushed back to the sink and stuck his face under the running faucet.
"What's burning you? What happened?" Once the water ran clear once more, Cal stood up and scrubbed at his bloody hands. "Callum, tell me what happened."
"Some jerk off spit on me. I can still feel it! Make it go away, please," he moaned quietly. "Some of it got on my forehead but most was on my hands and it won't come off." Eric turned the water off, pushed paper towels into his godson's hands, and pulled him towards the door.
"It's in your head, Cal, you know it is!" Cal tossed the reddened paper into the nearby garbage can and Eric led him back outside. "There's nothing on your hands, okay?"
"Then why can I feel it?" he asked himself, facing away. "I shouldn't be here, Eric. You should be doing your job and I'm not letting you do that." He cocked his head slightly when he heard ten beeps from Eric's cell phone. "That's… That's Marisol's number, isn't it?" Eric raised an eyebrow.
"Someday, you're going to have to tell me how you do that. She's gonna pick you up, okay?" Cal nodded eagerly. Eric and his sister were the closest things to best friends he had because of his odd condition. He had other friends, of course, but he was exceptionally close to those two. "Go back over there and wait."
"Thanks, Eric. I'll see you later." Horatio met him at the hummers and took off his sunglasses.
"What happened to your hands?" he questioned, sounding genuinely concerned.
"I washed them five billion times more than usual."
"Ouch. Okay, I need you to tell me exactly what happened this morning. Anything you remember can be helpful." Cal took a moment to gather his thoughts before taking a deep breath.
"I was coming downstairs after washing my hands in the bathroom by Benji's office- it's something I have to do four times a day, or I'll get… anxious. Anyway, I saw the guy when I was going to my dad's car. He had dark hair and was about… six-foot-four. I saw him stand up and shoot Benji once."
"Stand up?" Cal nodded, biting the corner of his lip.
"Yeah. I'm guessing Benji tried to fight back and pulled him down or something. Um, after that, my dad tried to wrestle the gun from the guy and… He was shot twice in the stomach. I tried to run for help, but the guy was faster. He grabbed me and dragged me to where my dad was dying. I don't know why. He put his gun to my head and I froze up. He told me to get on my knees. He wanted me to beg for my life, he said."
"And did you?" A wave of anger instantly washed over the teen.
"That's not relevant at all, and you know it!" He took several breaths to calm down. "Sorry. No, I told him to rot in hell. He didn't like that, so he slapped me and that's what split my lip. Then he…" Cal trailed off and suddenly found his hands very interesting to stare at.
"He what? Callum, I need you to tell me what happened."
"He was about to rape me, okay? But he heard the sirens and split. I didn't catch the plate number because it was still sort of dark, but I knew what kind it was because I'm into motorcycles. I was admiring it before I saw them. That's everything."
"Alright. Thank you, you've been very helpful," Horatio said, sliding his glasses back on as he walked away. Cal sighed and took an iPod out of his front pocket. He slid down to the ground in the same position he was in when Eric found him that morning and turned his music up almost as loud as it would go. Eventually, he closed his cyan eyes and let the music carry him away.
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"Music therapy?" Cal jumped as one of his ear buds was pulled out. "Hola, amigito."
"Hey, Mari. I haven't seen you in almost… Two weeks. I think that's a record for us, yeah?" Marisol laughed and hugged her friend lightly when he stood up.
"Probably. How are your hands? I heard you got salivated on." The teen cringed.
"Ugh, don't remind me. I scrubbed for a good forty-five minutes and I could still feel it. They were bleeding earlier, but they'll heal eventually."
"You're lucky Eric got worried. From the way he described it, you were about to scrub your hands off." He shook his head and followed Marisol to her car. They drove off in the general direction of Marisol's apartment.
"That's pretty close, actually. If I had my pocketknife with me, I probably would have tried cutting them off." Mari stopped at a red light and gave Cal a concerned look. "I'm kidding, Mari. Jeez, I carry that for protection only. Guess it didn't do much good, though, did it?" He slid his hat off and angrily threw it at his feet. "Crap!"
"Hey, you can't blame yourself, kid," she said comfortingly, ruffling his blond hair. "It's not your fault in the least." He squeaked slightly and used a metallic comb that was in his pocket to brush his hair into place.
"No, not that. Eric told me that a billion times earlier when I freaked out. I was just thinking about Mikey. He's at school, Mari. He wasn't expecting us to be home until late because of Benji's meeting and usually the only person there when he's up is my dad, but he's asleep. He doesn't know!"
"Hey, calm down, hyper beam! I thought last day was yesterday, anyhow?" Cal shook his head and rubbed his temples.
"No it's today. I was sick yesterday, which is why I was at the offices. We need to get him, Marisol, we need to tell him!" He swore loudly and ran his hands through his hair.
"I thought Eric told you to stop saying that!" Cal rolled his eyes and repeated the word exactly six times, earning him a slap to the back of the head. "You are still a child, Callum Mantreux, don't you go forgetting that!"
"Sorry, Mari, but as you can see I'm freaking out a little bit. We have to tell Mike eventually, right?" His fingers found themselves entwined in his hair and he tugged lightly from frustration.
"We'll pull him out early, but we aren't telling him until later. We don't need to ruin his day." Though he was sure that his eight-year-old cousin would be upset either way, it made sense to let Mike have his designated last-day-of-school fun.