The Final Choice

32 Colby's POV

I sprayed the little bottle of medicine on her forearm, expecting her to, at least, flinch. She didn't. She remained totally still. Bored. I blew on it anyway, to calm any burning that she might be feeling. "Do they hurt?" I asked, as I set her arm back down and gently pulled the other one up.

"Not really," she sighed. I stayed quiet, while I checked her other injuries. Her arm, her knees, the bruises on her neck. The scrapes were all fairly shallow, so I didn't need to bandage them. The bruises were starting to form already, turning slightly blue and purple.

 "Alright, Cal," I said, as I moved my hands away from her knee. "I need to see your thigh. It's still bleeding. I need you to turn your leg a little and...open them." Her eyes shot to mine, letting me see some kind of emotion, finally. I just wasn't sure what that emotion was.

"So that I can bandage the wound," I explained, swallowing hard. She didn't say anything, but she opened her legs, and turned her hips, so that I could get to the inside of her thigh. No matter what I was feeling, as I leaned my face closer to her legs, I couldn't help the way my body was reacting to the situation. I would never let her know it though. Not now. Not after what had happened.

I took a deep breath and focused on her injury. The scratches were deep, perfectly crescent shaped, like fingernails. Anger, again, became my main emotion, so I focused on that, instead of how intimate of a position we were in. I used the little alcohol wipes, catching the blood that was still oozing down, and heard her inhale, sharply.

"Sorry," I whispered. "It's fine," she said, through gritted teeth. I guess this one burned pretty badly. Once I had it cleaned up, I applied some antibiotic cream with my fingertips, gently swiping them over her wound. It was too spaced out to use a large bandage, so I cut enough gauze to cover it. After I placed it on her thigh, I used my teeth to cut the medical tape, then secured it to her leg.

I leaned bag slowly and released the breath that I hadn't realized I was holding. "All done. How does it feel?" I asked. My own voice sounded almost strangled to my ears. "It's fine," she replied, repeating that same damn word. "No, it's not fine, Callie," I said, letting a little bit of my anger seep out in my voice.

When her eyes flashed to mine, I just raised my eyebrows. I wasn't the only one who had anger in them...but, she didn't say anything. Instead, she looked away and shrugged. "Do you want to talk about what happened?" I asked. "No," she said, shortly. "And, I wish you would just leave me alone about it. It happened. It's over. It is what it is."

There was that anger again. I almost smiled to myself. If she was angry, that meant that she hadn't completely shut down. "Callie, I don't want to push you into talking about it, but I won't let you shove it down. Not this time. If you don't want to talk to me, then talk to Denise. Call your therapist. I don't care, but you need to talk to someone. Maybe not tonight, but soon," I insisted.

"Whatever, Colby," she groaned, rolling her eyes again. I sighed, leaned back, and put my arm around her shoulders. I could feel her wet hair dripping onto my arm. "You're so stubborn," I whispered.  "Yeah, well, shit happens," she muttered, under her breath. I smiled a little and stayed quiet. She was still here and she was going to be okay. 

We sat like that, her tucked under my arm, quiet, until the bathroom door opened, and Denise walked into the room. She was wearing a short yellow tank top, paired with a pair of The Nightmare before Christmas sleeping pants. 

She looked over at us, while she rubbed a towel through her hair. "Cal, do you want me to help you dry your hair?" she asked, softly. Callie groaned and closed her eyes. "No. I am FINE. Why can't you guys stop babying me?" Denise looked at her for another few seconds, then met my gaze. I just smiled.