Grey Sloan Memorial Hospital

Seattle Washington

United States of America

Polo looks up into the bright white light above his face with fear and adrenaline coursing through his body but he takes slow measured breaths. He lies on a flat table with only a thin white sheet folded over his lap. His skin is cold and in the light he can see her face and his face and it hurts. Carla and Christian were a great love and they were taken from him; not by choice, but by death.

"Polo, it's almost over okay." Her voice is kind.

English isn't the first language Polo knows but he can feel sincerity when Dr. Amelia Sheppard speaks to him. With her is Mr. Garcia and Mr. Knight's dear friend Dr. Logan Mitchell. These two are the heads of their department. Hers being nueuro and his general, he doesn't have anything to do with this case other than the fact that he's technically family.

Amelia cuts off the intercom and looks away from the glass that divides them from the radio activity of the MRI machine. She looks up at Dr. Mitchel.

"This one needs a little extra care. He's sixteen and has the stress of someone in their mid-thirties. Where's Carlos?" She says before drawing a deep breath and continuing to look at the scans, "He should be here. There's so much he has to sign off on and this is crazy- you know that Logan."

"What's crazy is that they're the only three survivors of that massacre and the first person they call is Carlos." Says Logan.

She doesn't agree with his temperament toward Carlos and the lack of respect the two hold for one another but she does agree that there is something particularly special about these three.

"Let's go talk to Kendall." Says Logan and he waits for her to print off the papers before the two of them leave the room.

Creeeaaaak.

Detective Garcia isn't stupid. He knows that his own dirty work is lining these halls. It's people he's affiliated with that caused Nano and Samuel to be swirled into the game to begin with. He knows it's boys he used to run with that have their names encoded on that stupid red wrist watch belonging to the father of the Marchioness. Las Encinas became the home, over the last few months, of a situation that should have never fallen upon the backs of children. Grown folk handle grown folk business and since he's grown now he needs to be the one to solve this equation.

Some students, even quite possibly random- non inclusives- situations will be involved. He knows better than to bow out now. He has a duty to these kids to protect them at any cost and this Jigsaw copycat is very much in the wrong for involving so much as one minor. Those kids didn't deserve to die. There never had to be a massacre. Now three boys have lost everything and this is Carlos Garcia proving that, as a former gang member himself, he has what it takes to prove to those boys he's someone worth trusting.

This very reason, Guzman's only request, is why Carlos continues his pursuit. He'd been called out back in the burro there in Washington but here in Spain was the last place he expected to be confronted. Let alone have to come to terms with the fact that a mass killer targeted an entire highschool. These are children. They haven't had a chance to make mistakes let alone be tried for them in this kind of justice.

He isn't a corrupt cop. He was, once upon a time, a corrupt kid. The system did him wrong. The music industry left him to rot after they sold him out. This is morale outrage leading him forward. The hypocrisy of it all. A tidal wave of emotions drown him as he continues down every turn.

So, why is this old life, one he buried, come to life in decay and trying to eat him?

A sound echoes down the next hall. Four doors, two on each side, and an open cavity that continues a staircase ascent. The sound came from door number three if you're counting from left to right. Last door before the steps on the right hand side. Follow along, there isn't much time. He scoots his shoes across the slick flooring.

The moment he reaches that last door... and wraps his hands around the knob... a new sound finds his ears. The shrieking, ugly, squeal of a pig and then he's got hair in his face and a hand over his mouth. The moment the needle finds his skin is the last moment he can comprehend. He's out like a light. The darkness has him.

Guzman and Ander, located in the same room, leave their beds and choose to sit on Polo's when their friend is finally escorted back to their room from his MRI. There's several doctors in here and most of them look like scared students so naturally Guzman, Ander and Polo continue on a casual conversation as if they're not here.

Logan Mitchell, head of General surgery, is standing by Kendall Knight; one of the men looking to adopt these three boys. Of course Polo has met Kendall before. Mr. Knight often joined Carlos on holiday events Polo and Carla spent with Polo's mothers. Christmases and New years mostly. The two of them talk with the students about things Polo and his friends don't care about. Until the term 'Cancer' is dropped.

Three heads snap in the direction of the accusation. Then Dr. Amelia Sheppard walks into the room. She was only in on the case for clarification. The fact that she's here means something is horribly wrong. She's looking at Ander. Then suddenly everyone is looking at Ander. Polo and Guzman instinctively hold his hands.

The three of them gather on the last bed on the left just before the window. The spot Polo prefers. Polo lies beneath the sheets all hooked up to his IV and oxygen. Ander sits by his feet dangling his legs off the edge of the gurney and clutching to the cold metal pole of his own monitor and Guzman is over by Polo's waist, holding tightly to both of his friends unbothered by the peculiar eyes of medical students.

"What do you mean?" Guzman finally says, "And what's with the audience. We've been through something rough and detective Garcia isn't even here. Why are you doing this?"

Amelia nods, "Everyone out. Except Mr. Knight of course."

The students oblige but Logan sticks around. When she's turned herself to glare at him he glares back. She stands her ground. This is none of his business and therefore he should leave. He waits a few more moments and when at last he's gone Dr. Amelia Sheppard closes the door.

When, at last, the five of them are alone she explains to the young boys, "This isn't the end. I myself was diagnosed with a brain tumor and look at me. I'm still here. Cutting other tumors out of other people."

"This is called grooming." Says Guzman, "You're manipulating a group of minors to influence them on decisions you believe are correct. We will wait till detective Garcia gets back before we make any decisions."

He stands to his feet and crosses his arms to deflect anyone he can away from his boys and Amelia gets the picture. She runs a hand through the dark chocolate bob she has on her head and turns to look at Kendall. The two of them hold some unspoken agreement. Then they're gone and Guzman can finally be alone with his boys. He pulls his shirt off and slips beneath the sheets to lie against Polo. Ander crawls in on the otherside and Polo lies there with two heads resting softly on his chest. An ease washes over young Polito as warm hands find his stomach and thighs. He's at peace with them and allows himself some rest.

Debris litters the floor. Walls aren't walls they're just plastic tarps. A fair amount of dust and sand fill the air. He's bound, a feeling he's repulsed by. He and his husband avoid games like this because the both of them are the kinds of people who dance where they can breath. Who ever has him trapped like this is someone with a perverse mind. Freedom, sensuality, and an equals state of mind reflects the light of a neon world in which those who love live. This is a chamber of something beneath his world. It is painted in the fires of illusion and burns with a false sun as metal and rust keep him locked in place.

Carlos has awoken in a vat of glass. Broken glass. Every move he makes is another gash in his skin. He centers his vision on one thing, a young British gentleman. They've met before. He and a lover from the years of Carlos' fame and this other boys edjucation at the Amun Boarding School in liverpool England. Things only seemed simpler back then. Even when BTR had a concert on their schools property and Fabian Rutter could lift his Nina Porter up at Carlos' hand during that nights preformance. Garcia and Rutter had an unspoken agreement.

They're both adults now and Carlos knows nothing about this young mans life. All he knows is that young Fabian is bleeding out on the floor of this pit with him. As Carlos reaches out to the young boy, after slinging wine bottle chunks left and right he ignores the lies those scratches try and whisper, he imagines that night lost in the music. Even back then before either boy had ever known what gay was the two of them had a spark.

Carlos is married now. That was years ago. Now Carlos is in the lobby of what used to be a high-school stabbing himself in his effort to stand and that young boy over there, pale and covered in blood, is a grown man just like he is and both of them are responsible of their own lives. Carlos knows there are far more important individuals waiting in here for him. Still, instinct wont let him leave an individual behind and something tells him that Fabian isn't the type to abandon people either.