AN: Thanks you for reading.

To the guest, who wrote that I ruined him/her to any other story that doesn't include Amy - I'm glad to be of service :D Also, best compliment ever.

Tried to incorporate multiple things you guys asked/suggested in this chapter. Hope you enjoy :)

Linda POV

"Are you going to be eating that?" I asked, when I noticed that Callie hadn't touched her food in a while. She had eaten almost all of what was given her. It was good to see that her appetite was almost like it used to be.

Callie shook her head, without saying anything, and continued to stare aimlessly at her lap. Just taking one quick glance her way, I could see she was deep in her thought.

I gabbed the tray of food and set it aside. After moving the small table out Callie's way, I moved to sit on her bed side. Even as the side of the bed dipped under my weight, Callie paid no attention to me.

I reached out to her and placed my hand gently on her cheek. That got her attention as I had hoped it would. Physical touch almost always did.

"Penny for your thoughts?"

Callie studied me for a moment. Something heavy was on her mind, I could see it in her eyes. Her lips parted slightly, as if she was about to speak, but instead, she only let out a breath. Not quite there yet to share, but close. The girl closed her eyes, tilted her head down and leaned a bit more into my palm that was on her cheek, embracing the contact I had made.

"Mom does this," Callie said once she had opened her eyes and looked back at me

"She stole it from me, that's why!" I chuckled back, taking my hand back. Kids learn from their parents. They observe parents behavior, mimic movements, repeat phrases, do what they do. So it was no wonder Amy did that, because I used to do that to Amy and Andy, when they were growing up. Ans sometimes still do, when I need to get her attention, just like I had just done with Callie.

Callie gave a small laugh back "What was she like growing up?" She asked, her eyes searching mine for answers

"She was a handful," I said after I thought it over, remembering all the mischief she did "I wouldn't go as far and say she was a rebel. She didn't get home drunk or was out partying all night long, keeping Harold and I awake, but she found a way to challenge us day in and day out."

The smile, that my answer had brought on, slowly faded from the girls face. The thoughtful look returned to her eyes and she asked "Am I a handful?"

At first it had seemed such an innocent question. I think all kids give a hard time to their parents. Even when they are not kids anymore. It's just the way how things are. They get in trouble, they make stupid mistakes, test boundaries, learn the difference between good and bad, what is allowed and what is not, they have bad and good phases and moods. Up and down, non-stop.

I wanted to tell her that – yes, you probably are – before a little voice in my head stopped me from saying it out loud. There was a sudden fear, sudden realization that there might be more to the question that I had thought at first.

Before I managed to figure out the right answer, Callie spoke up again admitting, something, that I thought was in the past "It feels like I'm too much."

I felt unprepared and out of place. Amy should be here, for this talk, instead of me. It was so easy to say the wrong thing. I was scared to mess this up. To make it worse. Amy would know exactly what to say to her. She would know, how to assure the girl of the opposite.

"I have caused Amy so much...trouble and pain. More than she ever bargained for," she raised her right arm up, gesturing to the room that we were in "I mean...she's using all her vacation days and spending them here, in this bloody hospital, with me. And it's not just this..." she dropped her hand to the bed, her palm made a soft thud sound as it collided with the bed sheet "It's all the crap that happened with me over the years. All of what I had put her through," she sighed and took a deep breath in "If she hadn't met me, her family might still be alive-"

I raised my hand up, showing her to stop the moment I heard something I did not like "I'm going to stop you right there, Callie!" the young girl stared at me "You are her family. Don't you dare think otherwise!"

"No, I mean...Aaron and Markus. They were her real family!" The girl reasoned back

"I'm not completely sure from where this is coming right now. What brought this on. I'm going to write the last thing you said off to the head trauma you had, because I know you know better. There is no such thing as real family. There's family! That's it. And you are Amy's family. You are my family, even though you are not my blood!"

"Now, tell me, what this is really about?"

Callie averted her gaze to the side and let out a deep sigh. Moments passed. I kept waiting, watching her.

After what felt like eternity, but most likely was only 5 seconds, Callie turned back to me "I'm scared that one day, my problems," Callie set her hand over her heart "will be too much for her. And she's going to..." she tilted her head down and shook her head "...leave me. Walk away."

I had not expected to hear that the foster kids insecurities would return. Nothing had suggested that they would. But then again, I might be missing chunks of important information that must have lead to this moment. Harold and I did arrive only 3 days ago. There was something I was missing, I had no doubt about it. My job now, was to handle the situation as best as I can, with the little information and knowledge that I had.

"I can assure you," I gripped her hand between mine and held it tightly "it will never happen!" I said without any hesitation and with no doubt in my voice

Callie, however, was not convinced "You don't know that. Not really," She said and tilted her head down, to avoid my gaze again

"Yes, I do!" I said firmly as I patted her palm softly "Nothing will ever stop her from loving you. She's your mom, she loves you to pieces. She would do anything for you."

Tears must had filled her eyes, because I saw how they dropped down "What if I'm not worthy of her love any more?" fear was heard in the girls voice

Those words shook me down to my core. They hurt me like hell.

Questions - why her insecurities were back, what had brought this on and how can I help my granddaughter - kept bouncing around in my mind, not leaving me alone and hindering my ability to figure out a way to assure her.

"Callie, sweetie-" I reached to wipe away the tears, but she turned her head avoiding my touch and breaking the eye contact with me

"I want to be alone for a while, grandma. Can you, please, leave," She asked, her voice small and fragile

Unwillingly, not wanting to leave her, but respecting her wish, I got up from the bed and left the room.

As soon as I closed the doors behind me, I leaned my back against the wall. My hand flew up to cover my mouth as I let out a shaky breath. Once I had composed myself, I reached for my phone and called Amy.

Amy POV

"-I'm going to need to take a month of unpaid vacation," I told Roberts. She was sitting at her desk, leaned back in her black, leather chair.

I shifted nervously in my seat, when I didn't see any visible hint in her body langue or features, that would help me understand what was her stance on my request. My request did not cause any surprise to her. She had expected me to make this request.

"Judging by your lack of response, you already figured that was what I was going to tell you," I concluded out loud, mostly for myself

Captain Roberts confirmed my suspicion "Of course I did, Amy. I have known you for years now. Family has always been your number one priority. Considering what you, what Callie just went through...I understand completely," Roberts said, leaning closer to the desk and interlocking her hands on surface

"Good, I was a little bit worried how you might take the news," I chuckled nervously and scratched my brow. Her response, made me hopeful, that she will accept and allow the extra time off.

She cleared her throat and shifted in he seat a little, then to my surprise, she changes the subject "We have a little gift for you."

"Oh? Oh, no! You didn't have to!" I waved my hand, not wanting any kind of gift

"It was Stef, who came up with the idea," Roberts explained further despite me trying to avoid receiving one "We all pitched in at the end."

I raised my eyebrow, not sure what she was getting at, yet curious at the same time.

"Stef asked me if it's possible to transfer her vacation day over to you, so you could be with Callie one day longer, during all of this. The following day Hernandez and Diaz were knocking on my door, asking me the same thing. Then Foster and Evans and...well, basically all of this floor after that. One day does not seem that much, but it does, when that day really matters. When there is a real purpose for it."

My mouth dropped and tears whelmed up at their generosity "Oh...whoa!" I was not expecting to hear that. Then again, I wasn't excepting to receive any kind of gift. That was probably the reason, why I had gotten so emotional. It came out of nowhere and it meant so much to me. These guys cared about me and about my daughter, more than I ever thought they did.

"So, you see, you won't be needing that unpaid vacation after all," Roberts grinned at me, clearly happy to take me by surprise like that

"I don't know what to say," I stuttered "Thank you!" I remember my manners at the very end

"We all wanted to help, but Stef was the one that told us the best way how to do it. So, if you want to thank someone, go talk to her."

"It means so much-" My gratitude was cut short by my phone ringing. When I saw, who it was, I knew I had to answer it.

I looked to Captain Roberts apologetically "I'm so sorry..." I pointed down to my phone "I need to take this. It's my mother, she's with Callie. She wouldn't be calling me right now if-"

"Go ahead!" Roberts gestured instantly

I quickly swiped my finger across the screen as I jumped up to my feet and walked to the corner of Roberts office "Mom. Is Callie okay?"

Mom filled me in on the details, when I arrived at the hospital. She met me outside, by the entrance. We talked as we walked towards Callie's room. Mom stopped by the nurses desk and did not go further. I gave her a hug, thanking her for being there with Callie, calling me and assuring her that everything will be okay.

I made my way from the nurses station to Callie's room alone, in fast and determined pace.

Walking in the room, I found it empty. The cover was tossed to side. A ray of sunshine was shining on the pillow, warming it. Callie's slippers were still by her bed side. The squishy ball, meant for her hand therapy, was on the ground by the wall opposite Callie's bed. Looked like she had threw it across the room out of frustration or whatever she was feeling at that moment.

I closed the doors behind me as my eyes traveled to the bathroom.

The doors were slightly ajar. There was light on.

"Callie?" I called out, so she would know it was me. All I heard back was a soft sobbing coming from inside the bathroom.

I reached for the door. The metal handle was cold to touch. As I slowly opened the doors wider, the hinges gave out a squeak.

Stepping inside the bathroom, I found Callie standing by the sink, in front of the mirror. Practically naked, only in her underwear. Her gown was on the floor, by her feet. Right on top of it, were the bandages that had been covering her burns.

Her weight was distributed to her healthy leg. Left hand was gripping the side of the sink. Either out of anger, to hold it in, or to gain more stability.

The contusions on her body were changing colour. Her back was covered in them. Smaller and bigger, in all shapes and forms. They were now looking more yellow and brown, purple around at the edges. In a way, it looked worse than at the start, while in reality it won't be long till they disappear from her body forever without leaving a mark.

It was the burns that Callie's eyes were focused on. Unlike a cut or gash, they cover a much larger area of the skin. The scars were much sever and scarier. They screamed – look at me.

I feared, theorized, that's what brought out her insecurities.

In the mornings, the nurse comes and changes the bandages. Usually, I went to get coffee that time. This morning, I had stayed with her, while the nurse changed her bandages. I needed to see. Needed to know the correct way, the procedure, how to treat the burns. To not mess it up, when Callie goes home and I need to treat the burns. I had never have an experience of tending burn scars. In my mind, the care for burns was much more delicate. It required to be more careful, a softer touch. Learning these things from a nurse, seemed to be logical way to do it.

While Callie hadn't said anything in the morning, I could see the way she was looking at me. It was all in her eyes. The look she gave me, spoke louder than any words ever could.

She didn't want me to see it. The girl had been scared, terrified even. Of my reaction. Of what I was going to say. Of how I will be looking at her. Callie had been clearly worried that I won't love her, because of the scars.

I should have said something in the morning.

I hadn't assured her, then and there. So this, this was on me. This is my fault.

Callie looked to me through the mirror "Ugly, huh?" she asked, then returned her gaze to her own reflection

"No, you are beautiful," the words flew out of my mouth easily.

She pursed her lips together, closed her eyes and shook her head. Callie obviously didn't believe me.

"Don't...don't you dare do that!" Callie said opening her eyes and looked at me again through the mirror. Carefully, not to fall, she turned around to face me.

"What?"

"Lie!" Callie snapped "Don't look me in the eye and lie!"

"I'm not lying," I replied calmly as I kept my eyes on the girl

"Look at this!" She outstretched her right arm, showing me the burn. Then she moved her arm to the side, so I would see the burn on her torso better. Eventually, her eyes focused on the burn on her upper right thigh.

It was hard to keep my eye away from the burns, simply because the burns were shocking to see. They looked incredibly painful. The damaged skin was red and swollen. Small blisters still remained. Some remains of the skin, was peeling off. A person, who is not used to see this kind of stuff, could get queasy.

The burn on her arm was healing a bit more slower. At least the part around her elbow. The constant arm movement probably was slowing down the healing process a bit. It was her dominant arm after all. With her other arm out of commission for the moment, all she could do was move it as little as possible.

Her pants had been burnt to her skin, which had required a procedure to remove it. There were small areas, where the burn looked tiny bit deeper and severe. More rough.

"This is not...a pleasant look, mom! This is not beautiful. I'm a freak...I'm...I am not beautiful. How can anyone, ever, love...this. Love me?"

"The scars may not be, but you still are," I said quickly and firmly, closing the distance between us "Because the scars, they do not define you. It's not just the looks, that makes you beautiful. What make you - you..." I pointed to her heart "-hasn't changed. You are still the same girl you always were. The quiet girl, with the big heart, who cares more about others, than she does about herself. There are so many amazing things about you to love. You're selfless, brave, smart, hard-working, good-natured, loyal, kind, protective, humble, sympathetic-"

"Okay, I get it..." Callie said, in a tone, that suggested she might be simply looking for a way to end this conversation. The problem with that, I still got things I needed to tell her and she needed to listen me.

I was not convinced that she believed what I was telling her. Quite possibly, she won't for a a while. The bombing changed her for the rest of her life. She needed to accept that it happened first, come to terms with it. It takes time to learn how to live with something like this. And it certainly won't happen after one conversation or over night. I just needed to keep assuring her.

"Now, listen to me very carefully, Callie..." I placed my hand on her cheek "I will always love you. Always! Nothing will ever change that. You mean the world to me!"

"Mm-hmm," She hummed back, avoiding my gaze. Sounded like a half-heartedly reply.

I tried to catch her gaze, to make that emotional contact with me "Scars or no scars - you are still beautiful. And I love you! You hear me?"

With some hesitation, she nodded.

That was not enough. I needed more. "No, I want to hear you say it!"

"You love me," Callie repeated

"And..." I waited

Silence.

The only thing that I saw was how tears whelmed up in her eyes, threatening to spill any moment "I hate it...I hate how it looks!"

"Callie, trust me, when I say, you won't be feeling like this forever. It will pass. And until it does, I will keep reminding you, how important you are to me, to your friends and family, and how beautiful you are, despite the scars. Because you are...you are more than those scars!"

Carefully, not to touch her burn scars, I pulled the girl closer to me. She was keeping her right arm to the side, the right side of her store slightly turned away from me, not to touch my clothes. The moment her head pressed to my chest, she cried out.

In the end, it was more like a one sided hug. Slightly awkward and uncomfortable position, but very much a needed hug. Not just for Callie.

I held her in my arms for a long time. Long enough for the nurse to come looking for her. I saw in the mirror reflection, how she marched in the bathroom, but once she realized what she had walked in on, how she slowly backed out of the bathroom. Leaving us be, for a moment.

"Guy's totally dig scars!" I said trying to light up the mood "You could walk in any bar and the guys would be like - how you doin'" I tried my best Joey Tribiani expression

A mix of scoff, laugh and sob escaped Callie's mouth. I blamed my horrible comedic skills. At least I could still make her laugh despite the horrible circumstance.

"Maybe you can get a bad-ass tattoo in the end. A Phoenix, raising from the ashes, or something-" I thought out loud as I kept holding the girl close to me, keeping my eyes on the white bathroom tiles.

Mission accomplished, I thought to myself, as the crying was slowly stopping and was replaced with a small laugh.

"I thought you didn't like tattoos..."

"I would, probably, never get one," I answered quickly "But I often find myself thinking how bad-ass and cool people look with tattoos. You could totally pull it off."

Some 10 minutes later, I was applying bandages to Callie's scars. There were two sets of eyes, watching my every step. A nurse, who was giving me pointers and making sure I do everything correct, was focusing more on my hands. And Callie, who observed my features, instead of the actual bandage applying process, as she was more concerned with how I was handling it.

"Put some more on this region," the nurse pointed to a small region, with her gloved hand, as I was applying a lotion that helped sooth the itching and helped the healing process

"I think," I glanced up to Callie, after I had followed the nurses pointers "Now is a good time to let you know, I talked to the doctors this morning and they said you are going to be discharged tomorrow," I took the bandage nurse was giving me and lowered it down to the burn, but not yet applying it.

"Really?" Callie asked. I looked up to find her eyes glowing of joy "I can go home?"

After making sure the bandage was covering the whole area and the sticky parts weren't going to be placed over the burn, I put the bandage down and pressed it to the skin. Once it was done, I stood up tall and smirked at my daughter, excited as well.

"You are going home!"