Title: Fallen (11/?)
Author: Chelle Storey-Daniel
RATING: Strong R for heavy emotions
Pairings: Callie/Alex, Mark/Addison, Derek/Meredith, Burke/Cristina
Summary: In Ready For A Fall, Callie's marriage to George ended and she found love and happiness with Alex. Now, it's Addison's turn to get married, Meredith is engaged to Derek, and Cristina and Burke are slowly rebuilding their own life together. There are many ways to fall. Some are good. Some are bad. And when you hit the earth ... you've simply fallen ... and sometimes it hurts too much to stand again.

A/N: You can't possibly read or enjoy this until you've read Ready for a Fall. Of all the fics I've written, that one is the one I'm most proud of. :)



Previously in Fallen... :)

One
Two
Three
Four
Five
Six
Seven
Eight
Nine
Ten

*~*~*~*~*~*~


*~*~*~*~*

"Welcome to the headquarters of FMC." Raphael turned a hook on the wall to the left and stepped back as the paneling slid to one side. Melana gasped behind him and he glanced at her, "You didn’t know it was here? This is where your father tried to plan Armageddon. I think you’ll find that my motivation was a little more commendable."

Everyone crowded into a small entryway. The walls were stone and Callie stepped forward, pressing her palm against a flat, nondescript rock. It blazed red and a deep robotic voice said, "Greetings, Calliope."

"Greetings, Zeus. Command entry."

Red beams shot out, passing over the people in the room. The robot spoke again, "Zeus detects multiple lifeforms. Friend or foe, Calliope?"

"Everyone is a friend until they prove otherwise," she replied.

"Welcome, friends," Zeus greeted. "Entry granted."

The rocks on the wall plumed with dust as a crack appeared. The crack deepened until a tunnel materialized and Callie flipped a switch, lighting the path. One by one, everyone followed, even Blake who refused to use his crutches at all and relied on Cam for support as he hopped along last. The view that greeted everyone caused resounding gasps and muffled cries.

They were directly underneath Bounty’s Keep, inside the cliffs that the house had been built on. Someone had poured concrete to make the path easier, but the walls were jagged and untouched by restoration. What was breathtaking, however, was the computer system and wall of televisions. FMC had state of the art gadgets, gizmos, and even an airplane that looked like it belonged in a Jetson’s cartoon, but what caught everyone’s attention was the fact that Talking Rock was under surveillance from every angle and being broadcast live from every screen.

Callie took a seat at the largest computer terminal and began to type. "Daddy, did you ever condense the narrative footage?"

"It’s still almost two hours long and that was with four edits." Raphael looked at Melana, then at the others. "We documented everything. Every trip, every lead, every *thing*. If you’ll have a seat ... I think you’ll understand what we were trying to do."

There were two leather sectionals in the middle of the floor and the men made quick work of dismantling them and turning them toward the wall of televisions. Melana looked like sitting down for an *instant* was conceding defeat, but when Raphael gave her a pleading look, she complied and sat down on the end of the sofa next to Addison in a huff. Raphael could barely contain the relief he felt. He covered it up by saying, "I started FMC after Callie and Cambyses were almost killed on their Uncle Kakistos’s yacht. Cam, you don’t know this, but your horrible sailing skills actually saved your life. There was a bomb on board that was meant to send a message to me.

"In the wreckage, the CIA found a fire proof box with my name carved on the side. Inside it was a warning to stay away from Talking Rock. Someone out there knew that I had alerted a special division of the CIA to the spring’s healing abilities and they wanted me to stop. So, I did. I officially resigned and I made sure that word got out to anyone who may have wanted to issue that warning to me. I lived my life as a businessman and nothing more for a full year. Then we came back to Greece and Callie, who snoops more than a human possibly should, found this place. She was rock climbing from the grotto up into the cliffs and she discovered it. The rest, they say, is history." Raphael looked at Callie expectantly.

She happily picked up the story. "I was eleven years old and I didn’t know what I had found, but I knew it was pretty cool. So, I kept coming back and then one day I booted up the computer. Someone had left the passwords out in the open so I put them all in and activated my voice and the doorway opened over there, the way we just came in."

"And I was on the other side trying to figure out how to gain access," Raphael laughed. "She scared the hell out of me."

"You scared the hell out of me," Callie replied. "I thought I was in trouble. But, instead, we were in it together."

"You never showed me this place," Cam snapped. "That sucks."

"Can you stop being a baby?" Callie hit a few buttons on the computer and a projection screen lowered, covering the televisions, which she shut off with another keystroke. "We started documenting everything from the beginning. Dad called friends from the CIA who had also retired or just had an interest in the paranormal and they launched a full scale investigation into the island’s history. Dad still had clearance because he didn’t *completely* resign and he was able to call in favors and do it right."

"Wait ... there are government agencies who just investigate the paranormal?" Mark asked.

"Since before Roswell, but that was really the catalyst for their studies." Raph nodded. "Area 51 exists and there are specimens of non-human origins that were taken from the wreckage. I’ve seen them. I’ve looked at them under a microscope. The people behind Area 51 also investigate unexplained occurrences."

"Like?" Addison asked.

Raphael took a deep breath. "Like the Bermuda Triangle, Big Foot, the Yeti, crop circles, stigmatas, and -"

Mark scoffed, looking at Alex for support. "Dude, seriously. Are we actually sitting here doing this?"

"I can guarantee you that by the time we get to the end of this ... documentary ... you’ll believe that everything you ever *thought* could be real ... is." Raphael nodded at Callie. "Go ahead, honey."

"Does anyone want popcorn?" Callie offered. "We have tons."

"Just start the damn freak show, Calliope," Melana growled. "Now."

Raphael sat down as far away from Mel as possible. Callie dimmed the lights and joined Alex, taking his hand, giving him a reassuring squeeze. "It’s not that bad, Jock Strap, so -"

"Shush!" Melana chided. "We’ll judge for ourselves what defines ‘bad’."

The screen was pitch black for a moment and then Raphael appeared, gazing into the camera from a few inches away.



"Is this thing on?"

"Dad! No one wants to see your nose hairs! Will you sit down?" Callie called.

Raphael backed up and flopped down beside her, still looking at the camera as if he were unsure it was working. Callie, whose jet black hair hung to her waist, crossed her arms over her chest. Her black lipstick and dark eyeliner made her look sullen and ... scary ... but she was clearly amused when Raphael glanced her way, then did a double take. "Calliope, *this* is how you choose to appear for our ... narration?"

"If anyone is seeing this we’re probably dead." Callie stretched her legs out, looking at the camera. "If I am dead ... then *shit*. That sucks. If I’m not, then, Mom, don’t kill me."

"You are *eighteen* years old, Mija! Grow out of this ... demented phase. You look ... unruly."

"When I graduate high school, I will. It’s my defense mechanism."

"Defense against what?"

"Peers. The most evil monster known to man. Can we do this? I want to go watch paint dry."

Raph shook his head and looked back at the camera. "We’ll probably have to cut most of this because I can just tell you’re going to be hard to deal with today."

"Yep." Callie nudged him with her shoulder. "Wanna hear a joke?"

"WE ARE WORKING!"

"A guy walks into a bar -"

The film jerked and sputtered and then Raph was alone. "Year one. Roll it."

A panoramic shot of Talking Rock filled the screen. It could have been the opening scene of a million blockbuster hits, picturesque, soothing. Callie, at eleven years old, bounded across the sand doing cartwheels. In the sunlight, her hair was chestnut brown with lighter brown highlights from the sun and her curls flew wildly as she flipped again and again. In the distance, Raphael was examining the altar and the camera man zoomed on him, watching as he kicked at the rocky base to expose any tricks or gimmicks.

A man wearing a flame suit appeared and patted Callie on the head. She was no longer flipping and stood gazing at the man with interest. He walked into the circle and spoke with Raphael, who hurried to stand next to Callie just outside the dirt circumference. Pulling a hypodermic needle from his pocket, the man squirted the altar with the blood from the syringe and ... nothing happened.

The next shot was of Callie. A helicopter was obviously hovering nearby because her hair was whipping and Raphael frantically motioned for it to retreat. The view changed and she accepted the helmet that Raph held out to her. "You don’t have to do this, baby."

Callie took the helmet, gazing down at it in her hands. "Yeah huh."

"Why?"

"Because it wants me to."

"What does?"

"It’ll fire for me and you want it to fire so you can see it on the camera, right?"

"Right. Are you scared?" he asked.

Callie nodded and a fat tear coursed down her freckled cheek. "A little."

Raphael kneeled down in front of her. "Nothing is ever to be feared, kitten. It’s supposed to be *understood*. Fear makes a person weak, it makes a person ... doubt themselves ... and there isn’t anything in this world you can’t do if you want to do it."

"Can I fly?" she asked hopefully, her eyes darting into the distance. "Because Jonesy said I could fly the helicopter if you said okay."

"All you have to do is believe it ... and you can do it."

Grinning, Callie pulled the helmet on, saluted her dad, and skipped to the altar. The needle filled with blood was used again, this time she emptied the contents ... and ... nothing happened. She was standing on the smooth surface and she shrugged. The needle caught her attention and she nodded. Wordlessly, she tugged off the glove and drove the needle into her palm several times ... then she pressed it to the stone and just like that ... the fire was everywhere.

The focus was just on Callie as she tugged her glove back in place. The helicopter could be heard approaching and she looked up, waving happily at whoever was on board. Raph let the fire burn for a full minute before he threw water into the blaze and rushed in, gathering her in his arms. The fire died as rapidly as it had begun and Callie pulled her helmet off before he set her on her feet. "Did you see me!?"

"I sure did," he told her. "You did such a great job!"

"I’m not weak at all." She grinned up at him. "Am I?"

"Not even a little."

"My hearts beating all funny. And my belly ... what’s this feeling, Daddy? It’s like ... running but I’m not moving."

"It’s adrenaline."

Callie held her arms out as the helicopter’s wind lifted her hair. Turning her face upward, she said, "I’m flying without wings. Can I do it again?"

"Boss, you need to take a look at the feed from the helicopter." A man said, holding out a small handheld device.

The film jumped to the view from the helicopter.

The circle was burning and Callie was waving ... from the center of a pentagram. The five pointed star inside the circle was unmistakable and ... just as terrifying.

The splicing on the film was horrific and after the pentagram faded to black, an eighteen year old Callie, still wearing her black, fiddled with her leather dog collar and gazed at the camera. "I know what you’re thinking. You’re thinking Devil Worship. *Wrong*. Satanic panic isn’t cute, people. What you just saw was the temple of Thesmorphia which was *supposed* to be a nice, loving ritual that Greek people did. Well, maybe it was the island or the *people*, but they perverted that nice, loving ritual and made it dark. A pentagram actually represents five things: earth, water, air, fire, and spirit. I felt the need to make this public service announcement because I happen to appreciate the distinction. Carry on. Oh, year two, by the way."

Callie’s hair was shorter when she appeared on camera again. She grinned devilishly and made a trilling sound with her tongue. "Captain’s log, stardate, -"

"Stop doing that!" Raphael told her, shooting her a menacing glare. It faded fast, however, and he tugged her into his arms. "You’re a lot of company for this."

"I hate stakeouts." Callie sat up a little higher, peering at something. "Bet I could drop fireworks and make something happen."

"Can you concentrate?"

"On nothing?"

"GET DOWN!" A man screamed.

Raphael covered Callie with his body, pushing her face into the dirt. A moment later, there was a loud explosion and the camera was knocked to one side. It took a while for it to be righted and when it finally was, it was Callie who lifted it, brushed it off, and put it back on the stand. "Fuck," she whispered. "My ears are still ringing. Dad, did they use too much C4?"

"Yes." Raphael grabbed her, patting her sides, her legs. "Are you hurt?"

"Nope, but I am hungry. The next time we’re blowing something up ... we’re packing a lunch."

"I got it!" someone called off camera. "It’s here! It was right by the doorway."

Raphael accepted a big, rectangular box and tucked it under his arm. "Thank you, Jasper."

"Anytime, boss."

"Aren’t you gonna open it?" Callie asked. "I mean, it took us *four* weeks to find the damn thing."

"You’re twelve. The next time you swear, I’m spanking you."

She grinned at him. "Fucking fuckers fucked up my fucking pants."

"You have been hanging around with Sims too much."

"Pretty much."

With a fade to blue, Raphael appeared on the screen in the same sterile looking room from the beginning of the film. He had his hands clasped in his lap. "You’re probably wondering what was in the box. That footage is ... unavailable. I won’t share that because some things are sacred and believe me ... that was. What I can tell you is that so much was explained by the contents. After that mission, everything was clear. It took me two years to do the research and come to terms with everything. So, we’ll jump ahead to year four."

"Dad!" Callie called. "I’m ready. How do I look? Am I a convincing Goth?"

"Dear God." Raphael walked around her, taking in her appearance. "Tell me that the black in your hair is temporary."

"Do I look like a Doom Cookie? No! It’s not fake. I’m authentically authentic."

"You’re *fourteen*! Your mother will have a fit when she finds out you colored your hair."

"It’s *raining*. If I used a rinse then the color would run and no one would believe that I am really into this scene." Callie pulled out a mirror and checked her black lipstick. "I actually like this. Having one color to choose from really makes getting ready easier."

"Do *not* get any ideas. As soon as you pump these people for information, you’re getting that out of your hair and you’re wearing *pink*. I mean it."

"Pink? I don’t even like pink cotton candy." She accepted the ear piece he gave her, slipped it into place and pinned a large, Victorian looking cross to the long black robe she wore. "So, I just press the center of the cross if anything goes wrong?"

"That’s all. Honey, you’ll have two other agents inside and if *anything* happens, they’ll react whether you press it or not. Don’t do anything that could get you hurt and you document *everything*. This is a fact gathering assignment only. Stick to the plan, get names, photos of the place and stay where the camera is on you at all times." Raphael hugged her. "Are you scared?"

"Fear makes you weak. I don’t fear a *thing*."

The room that appeared next was painted blood red and there was a table full of goblets. The camera picked Callie up at the table, sampling the wine. Raphael’s voice cut through and he said, "Put that down right now!"

"I have to look the part!" Callie whispered. "Don’t worry, it’s gross."

She carried the glass, not lifting it again back through the party goers. Several women stopped to talk to her and she came up with a convincing story about running a paranormal website and attending the ‘gathering’ in the hopes of photographic evidence that Thesmorphic Thinkers had channeled into untapped energy. When the ritual began a while later, she was calm, cool, collected and blended perfectly with the other women in attendance. She also took photo after photo, but no one seemed to notice that it was mostly the contents of the room and the layout that drew her attention.

To her credit, she didn’t bat an eyelash when a baby pig was slaughtered and when the cup of pig’s blood was passed around the room ... she drank it and kissed the woman next to her as she passed the cup on. What happened next was undeniable.

As the pig was hung upside down to drain onto corn seed ... a woman to Callie’s left levitated into the air. Her head fell back and her body thrashed and convulsed and then a voice that was soft and melodic spilled from her. "Your offering has been received. Go forth and prosper. All that you touch will be golden."

When the woman fell back to the ground, Callie grabbed her before she could hurt herself. "Are you okay?"

"I’m fine," the woman replied, her voice almost masculine now. "What happened?"

The film jumped again and Callie was emerging from a hallway. She smiled and made small talk with a short blond before she hugged her and waved at the congregation. They all called their goodbyes to her and she smiled as she exited the building. Outside, she strolled to a small black car, started the engine, and then pulled away. The camera person followed, hopping into a van.

"This is the *last* time I’m dressing as a woman," Demi said, putting the camera on the instrument panel.

Raphael smiled at him, pressed several buttons on the computer he worked at, then said, "Jonesy, follow Calliope. And if she goes over fifty miles per hour let me know."

"Yes, sir."


~*~*~*~*~*

"Pause it," Alex said, touching Callie on the arm.

She did as he requested. "What is it?"

"Demi and Jonesy, the chef, are involved in this stuff?" Alex asked.

"They were."

"How did you not feel the wires causing that woman to float?" Mark interjected. "Because it was obvious they were there."

"Just keep watching, Einstein," Callie replied, pressing play again.

~*~*~*~*~*~*

Callie was standing outside the car she had left the party in, her arms folded over her chest. After her father yelled at her for speeding, she reached under her shirt and pulled out a roll of paper. "Hey, is this an important scroll."

Raphael took it. "How did you -"

"They still haven’t invented a safe I can’t crack." She reached under her shirt again and pulled out a long, slim tube. "The Essence. What kind of idiots capture someone’s soul and then lock that shit up in a safe with a freakin’ scroll?!"

"Give me that! What part of ‘do not deviate’ confuses you?" Snatching it, Raph handed it off to Jonesy, who carried it back to the van like it was a stick of dynamite. "What have I told you, Callie? Never handle anything unless you know what it is?"

"I know what it is. I heard you talking about it to Jonesy. You wanted it and now you have it." She grinned at him. "Can I drive us back to the hotel?"

Raphael hugged her. "Fine, but I’m not very happy with you at the moment."

"Liar."

*~

"Just do it, Dad."

The Essence was beneath a square glass barrier and Raphael was manipulating it with mechanical arms. "You should wait outside."

"I *got* the thing. I wanna see what it can do."

"It’s evil."

"Good. It would be boring if it was sweet and innocent."

"If *anything* happens -"

"I know. Mom will kill us both. Now open it."

Raphael manipulated a key into the lock on the tube and slowly turned it. His hands were shaking as he worked the robotic arms. Finally, it clicked open and he pulled the lid off, holding his breath. Callie leaned closer and peered inside. A moment later, something hit the glass so hard that a crack appeared a few inches from her face. The cube fogged immediately and her eyes widened as she looked at the camera. "Come around here, Demi."

Demi complied and gasped. "Raph?"

The words on the inside of the glass were undeniable. They read, ‘Leave me alone’.

Callie reached up and touched the surface. On the other side ... a bloody handprint appeared, following her every move. "That is *so* weird," she said.

The glass was hit again and this time ... a face was imprinted in the blood, perfectly outlined. As they watched ... the mouth opened and the invisible tongue snaked out, licking and undulating ... smearing the blood. Callie moved her hand away and added, "Weird and *fucked* up."

Raphael was watching Callie with interest. "You’re not scared?"

"Why would I be? It’s in there, I’m out here." She leaned closer to the protective shield. "Can it see us? Because it’s blinking now."

"If we can see it, it can see us," Demi placed his palm on the opposite side of the cube. The face vanished and splattered over his hand. The grimace on the entity’s face spoke volumes about whether or not it was pleased.

Callie shook her head. "I don’t think it likes you."

At the sound of her voice, the face reappeared on her side of the box and her eyes widened. "It can hear us, too? Maybe we should play twenty questions. I’ll go first. What -"

"Don’t, Callie! The shamans who blessed this barrier never told me if they binded it. To engage the soul is to give it a link to remain here. We must contain it again," Raphael said, returning to his seat. He moved the robotic arms to the far end of the tube, shaking his head. "There’s so much blood ... I can’t see it."

Callie slipped her hands into the gloves on her side of the table. They were made into the glass case so that the contents could be manipulated by hand or by robot. "I’ve got it."

"Calliope, no!" Demi said, reaching for her.

It was too late. She slid her hands inside and felt blindly for the tube. The face vanished as she was working and she gasped, then cried out. Raphael jumped to his feet and he reached for her, but she shook her head. "Give me a second."

It took three minutes. As suddenly as it had appeared, the fog cleared, but the blood remained. Callie turned one glove upward, wiping the glass clean as she screwed the lid back on the tube. The red light on top of the glass went from red, to yellow, to green and she nodded. "Threat contained. And ouch, that hurt."

She pulled her arms free and Demi zoomed in. The bite marks were unmistakable. Her skin had not been broken, but the indentations were deep and obviously painful. Raphael launched into another speech about respecting boundaries, but Callie tuned him out and gazed in at the tube. "Dad?"

"Don’t interrupt me when I’m mid-tirade!"

"How do you *capture* a soul?"

"By giving up your own, Mija."

"Giving it to who?"

"Baby, there are some things in this world that I never want you to know."

"If you don’t want me to fear the unknown ... you should make sure I know it all."

Raphael looked torn. "Fine. Sit over here. Away from this thing."

Callie complied and watched her father pace the length of the room. "In a chapel in Southern France, the great Emperor Charlemagne is buried. He’s placed prominently in the middle of the room, but the way his body is arranged is ... odd, even for that era. He’s sitting up, with a bible in his hand, and he’s pointing at a verse on the wall. Matthew sixteen twenty six."

"For what profit is it to a man if he gains the whole world, and loses his own soul? Or what will a man give in exchange for his soul?" Callie said automatically, looking thoughtful. "What does Charlemagne have to do with what we’re doing?"

"Because he’s the only person to ever sell his soul ... and get it back." Raphael nodded when she looked skeptical. "Legends say that he was mortally wounded in battle. As he lay bleeding out ... a man approached him and offered him a life filled with success. Charlemagne knew he was dying so he agreed and the deal was struck. As the stranger helped him to his feet, he said ‘You will rule an empire and when that day comes, your soul will be mine’.

"Eventually, Charlemagne was named Emperor. He didn’t want that to happen. He feared that happening and didn’t see it coming. But he found a loophole, Callie. He refused ever to use the title ‘Holy Roman Emperor and because of that ... some sects didn’t recognize him fully and for *that* ... he retained his soul, but he points to that verse on the wall in death to remind everyone how close he came to losing his own."

"Who was the man? Who found Charlemagne when he was dying?"

"There is more evil in the world than just Satan, but a person can sell their soul to the Devil. It comes in many forms and offers you what you need at that precise moment."

"So, you’re saying that Lucifer is real."

"He’s the bad guy in one of the oldest stories ever told. If he’s not real ... then neither is the rest. And I refuse to believe that we’re in this alone. I believe in God so by default ... I have to believe in Satan, too."

"Is that whose essence that was?"

"No." Raphael shook his head. "If it was that easy to capture the Devil ... God would have put an end to him a long time ago."

"Then who was it?"

"I can’t be certain, but there were rumors that it belonged to Liam French."

Callie gasped. "The serial killer? The one who targeted Pagans?"

"I think the Thesmorphic Thinkers were very offended by his choice of victims. They were there the night he was executed and rumor has it they were chanting, calling his soul as he passed away." Raphael lifted her hand in his and studied the bite marks on her wrist. "He was a biter. That’s how they convicted him."

"Great. I’ve been snacked on by the ghost of a serial killer and all I got to show for it is bruises. Not even a coffee cup. Or a T-Shirt."

"Have you heard anything I’ve said?"

"I heard it. I just refuse to let it freak me out." She looked back at the tube. "Whose blood was that?"

"The blood of his last victim. It stains the soul ... when you do wrong."

The sterile room from the beginning of the film came back into view and Raphael slumped into his chair. "After I showed several friends in the CIA the footage of the essence ... FMC gained approximately one hundred and fifty new agents. Because of that, I was able to step back and breathe for a while. Callie, naturally, kept our secrets and didn’t work with me again until she was sixteen. It would be an assignment that would change both of our lives. Year six. Roll it."

"I’d rather be here than back home. Mom was trying so hard to have that stupid coming out party." Callie made a face. "She actually said ‘let’s go get your hair highlighted’. Highlighted, Dad! Like the world needs another blond bimbo! There’s an abundance already."

Raphael patted her on the back. "She means well, you mother. And she adores you. Try for a little compassion. You’re our only daughter and -"

"I don’t ‘come out’! Ever." Callie smiled. "That’s Cam’s job."

"Your mother needed this party after being informed that he’s homosexual."

"How come you don’t mind?"

"Because I’ve seen it all. Nothing bothers me at this point. I want your brother to be comfortable in his own skin."

"So, Cam can be gay, but I can’t be Goth?"

Raphael shook his head. "You’re a beautiful girl and looking like you do distracts from that. You hide behind a mask and drown yourself in horrific music that I don’t think *anyone* could enjoy and for what?"

"I like it."

"We’re ready to roll," Demi said, poking his head into the van.

Callie picked up the camera, sticking her tongue out at it. She handed it off to Demi and followed her father. Stonehenge sat in the distance, impressive and intimidating against the night sky. Callie took a deep breath and sat on the ground in the center, opening a bag. Using a knife, she sliced at the air as she chanted softly under her breath and then she lay flat on her back, her arms outstretched. The clock in the corner of the screen fast forwarded close to an hour.

"We should pack it up. It’s not happening," Demi said.

"Wait," Raph hissed. "Did you hear that?"

A woman’s voice could be heard as plain as day. She was speaking rapidly and as the camera zoomed on Callie, it was obvious that she was not the cause. A moment later, Callie rose into the air, her hair cascading behind her, the ends skimming the earth. As they watched, her head began to rise and she hung suspended as if crucified for several seconds before she slumped back to the earth.


Raphael rushed toward her, shaking her. "Callie!? Wake up!"

"Dad?"

"Play it back!" Raph shouted at Demi. "What was it saying?"

The screen went black and words appeared at the bottom to translate the computer enhanced recorder. "You will be safe. Go and do what must be done. You will be safe. Go and find the Rose of Jericho."

An eighteen year old Callie appeared on the screen looking bored. "Just for the record, I don’t remember any of that and it didn’t look very pleasant so I’m not too bugged by it. The Rose of Jericho. Here’s where it gets interesting. Over the course of researching Talking Rock and her power center, we stumbled onto a branch of the Karakas family tree that we didn’t know existed.

"The Bible talks about Nicodemus. His faith in Jesus was unwavering. He had witnessed some of Jesus’s abilities firsthand and it was to Nicodemus that Jesus said, ‘For God so loved the world that he gave his only begotten son, that whoever believeth in him shall not perish, but have everlasting life.’ When Jesus was crucified, Nicodemus and Joseph of Arimathea asked Pilate for Jesus’s body so that they could prepare it for burial. They rubbed spices on him.

"But that’s not all. A Rose of Jericho is also known as a resurrection flower. They placed one inside the tomb. And three days later, Jesus came back. What the bible doesn’t tell you is that Nicodemus went back inside that tomb to retrieve the rose and it was gone. Jesus ascended into Heaven after that." Callie popped her gum and scratched the side of her head. "Here’s where it gets tricky so pay attention. The Rose of Jericho, when used to restore life, must be destroyed afterward. It can’t be left whole because for life to be given ... the rose has to die. It has to be ripped apart and scattered. Nicodemus never found that rose so Jesus couldn’t remain on the earth.

"So, who took it? We’ve searched for that answer for years and if we *are* still alive, I bet we’re *still* looking. Was it Joseph of Arimathea? Was it Mary Magdelene or Jesus’s own mother? Those were the people who knew that the rose had been used. Those three ... and Nicodemus."

Holding up a journal, she cleared her throat and said, "Me and Cambyses were snooping a few days ago and we found this diary in the wall. In the *wall*." She flipped open to the marked page and said, "It was written by my great, great, great grandfather. ‘Today we had a merchant ship come through. I was not at all pleased with the motley assortment of beggars and vagrants on board so I told them I would provide a feast for them only if the set sail post haste. Naturally, they refused and insisted that their vessel was in need of repairs. When I spotted the women and children on board, I caved. I sent them to Talking Rock to make their camp.

"When my servant, Amon, took them their food and returned, he told me that the peasants had sent with them a gift of gratitude. Instead of delivering it to me, Amon told me that he could not touch it. It had a weed of some kind inside a glass container. No matter how I tried, I could not break the glass or open the lid. I cannot explain this baffling phenomena nor can I explain the sense of dread and panic that overwhelmed me each time I struck at the container. I will not attempt to shatter it again. Amon, who grew up in Egypt and now works at Bounty’s Keep, called it a rose, but I’ve never seen a rose such as this. Amon says that the flower is cursed.

"I wonder ... how does it stay green and healthy when there is no air? It does not looked cursed to me. It looks blessed." Callie looked back at the camera. "So, you’re probably at the same conclusion we’re at. The rose clearly came ashore at Bounty’s Keep. There’s no more mention of it in this journal and over one hundred agents have overturned every single inch of the house, the property and even parts of Talking Rock. We have to be careful what we do on the island because she has a way of anticipating that we’re a step closer to learning her secrets and she ... she’s vindictive.

"She *thinks*. And she *knows* what we’re doing before we do it. Three months ago, a tunnel that we were digging collapsed on the workers and killed all thirteen. Three more died trying to retrieve the bodies. We can’t dig up the entire place because not only would my Uncle Xeno have a stroke, he’d probably chain himself to a tree or something to stop us. He’s in love with that place. So, we proceed with caution for *him* more than ourselves.

"And that’s why we’re making this video. Because we are close and things are happening and it’s ... well, a normal person would be scared ... but we’re not. We’ve seen and done too much to fear what happens next. So, again, if you’re watching this ... we could be dead, but I hope we’re not. If we are, though, we didn’t want to carry these secrets with us. There are too many secrets already and there are too many lies, too."

Raphael appeared, sitting next to Callie in the next frame. "So, there you have it. That’s what we know so far. There are hundreds of hours of footage that we couldn’t show you because it’s not really pertinent to this story, but believe me when I tell you that there is more than just life and death. There’s an in between where things can’t be explained or rationalized, but they can be understood and *respected* and that’s all we were trying to do."

Callie glanced at him. "Are we done yet?"

"We have miles to go before we sleep."

"Why quote Robert Frost when Einstein said it best?" Callie asked. "‘The most beautiful thing we can experience is the mystical. It is the source of all true art and science’. Fuck sleeping. I want to keep running into the fire, Dad."

And the screen went blank.


*~*~*~*~*~

Presently, Callie got to her feet and turned the lights back on, sitting at the computer. She hit a button to lift the screen and then turned the televisions back on. Out of habit, she scanned all of them for signs of movement or life, then looked at everyone. "So, that’s it."

"That’s it?" Cambyses ran a hand over his face. "Why does it end there?"

"Because it ended there." Raphael got to his feet and walked in front of the televisions himself, pausing at several of the images. "When the CIA found out that we had lost sixteen of their best ... they threatened to destroy me and the family. That’s when they decided that they wanted Callie and my option was to dismantle FMC and send her to college or keep going."

"Wrong," Melana snapped. "If you stopped when she was eighteen then *why* did she sleep with Nicky to gain a pass code at twenty?"

"Because Uncle Demi had a party and Nicky showed up," Callie replied. "He started talking about things that he shouldn’t have been versed in. He talked about a *rose*. Uncle Demi overheard him and called us. I got him drunk, gave him a truth serum, and found out that there were things in the family databank that could benefit us. So, I did what I had to do to get that code and we found out that the Niarchos family had done a little genealogy of their own. They were descended from Pontius Pilate ... you know, the guy that presided over Jesus’s trial and personally handed him over for crucifixion."

"We know that the Rose of Jericho plays a part in the mythos of Talking Rock." Raphael was still looking at the monitors. "But with Calliope so busy with college and then her internship ... we let it go."

"We let it go because we had to," Callie corrected. "Dealing with ghosts or spirits or ... whatever ... that’s fine. But I don’t think either one of us wanted to risk it anymore. I mean ... this is creepy in *Biblical* proportions and I don’t really want to tempt the hand of God. More than I already have, I mean."

"Plus, losing sixteen of our co-workers was *devastating*," Raphael declared. "I believe that the closer we get to finding the truth ... the harder it ... whatever it is ... will work to cover it up."

"Wait, wait," Mark said, holding up a hand. "I’m still on the bloody face thing in the box. What the hell was that?"

"The soul of a very, very evil man."

"The soul?" Mark still looked skeptical.

"You don’t believe us. Even now." Callie stated it as fact. Getting to her feet, she quickly opened the padlock on a nearby cabinet and took out the same tube from the video. Holding it out to Mark, she said, "Take it."

Sloan looked at the tube as if she were offering him a rattle snake. "Wh - what?"

"We can’t open it because someone would get hurt, but you can still *feel* it. So, take it."

Mark gingerly lifted the tube the same way he had taken the gun from Raphael when they shot clay pigeons. As he held it in his hands ... it thumped Then it thumped again. He gasped and almost dropped it. "Holy shit."

Alex shook his head when Mark held it out toward him. "No way. I’m not touching that thing."

"Addison?" Mark asked.

"Hell no."

Callie took it back from Mark when no one else would touch it. She placed it back in the case and spun the lock. When she turned back to the others, Melana had gotten to her feet and was stalking toward her. Callie took a step back, but Mel didn’t hit her ... she hugged her and whispered, "I am very sorry that your father is an asshole."

"Mom-"

In a louder voice, Mel said, "Raphael, unless you want to meet Jesus and ask him about this rose yourself ... I’d suggest you stay very, very far away from me. The rest of you ... go to bed. We have to be presentable tomorrow for this picnic and despite the fact that we are all now scarred for life ... we will put on a brave face and pretend that we don’t know ... a damn thing. Are we clear?"

Everyone nodded and she sailed out of the room.


Raphael smiled at Callie. "You’re mother can make a dramatic exit better than anyone alive."

"You’re supposed to go after her," Callie advised. "So, why don’t you do that?"

"I’ll wait until she’s asleep."

"She’s locking your ass out of the bedroom."

Raphael picked up a small black case from the counter. "You’re not the only locksmith in this family, Mija."

*~*~*~

Forty minutes later, the entire group, minus Raph and Melana, sat in the kitchen eating sandwiches. The foodfight had caused dinner to be cut short and Addison, who was a stress eater anyway, had taken it upon herself to ‘cook’. No one spoke for a while and finally, Mark swallowed a potato chip and looked at Callie. "I’m pretty sure my childhood house was haunted. There was this one room that was always twenty degrees colder than the rest of the house and I hated going near it. I hated it because I always felt like someone was watching me. Even the maid stayed away. I mentioned it once at a football game in the locker room and the guys ... they made fun of me for months. Our school mascot put a sheet over his costume and ran up and down the field like a ghost."

Callie sipped her cola. "So, you stopped believing that it could be possible."

"Pretty much." Mark bit into another chip. "To this day, though, when I go home ... I won’t get near that room and as far as I know ... no one else does either."

Tearing a piece off of her sandwich, Callie glanced at Alex, but didn’t eat it. He had not said much since the video and the tightness of his jaw concerned her. "People are pretty much born with a sixth sense. We can usually tell when something isn’t right."

Alex must have felt her looking at him because he gave her a reassuring smile and pushed her plate closer to her. "Now that it’s all bite sized ... why don’t you actually eat it?"

She rested her chin on her palm when Melana shouted at Raphael for the millionth time. Her eyes found Cam’s and she knew that the apprehension there reflected her own. Their parents *never* fought. They would snap at each other and Melana would overreact more often than not ... but it had never gotten so bad. When a door slammed, then slammed again, Callie sighed. "This sucks."

"She’ll come around," Mark said, patting her arm affectionately. "She will."

Alex shook his head. "She just found out that she’s been living a lie. I’d say she’s far from ‘coming around’. I mean, he lied to her. And, Callie, regardless of how you try to spin it ... it was wrong of him to put you in danger."

"I was never in danger," Callie replied softly. "It was completely safe. Everything was controlled."

"So, those bruises on your arms from that thing biting you ... that was safe? That was controlled?"

"*I* caused that, Alex. I did something stupid and paid for it." Callie flinched when Raphael bellowed in Spanish. "He never put me in any danger."

"We saw the video," Addison said. "He most certainly did."

"He did, Cal." Cambyses agreed, nodding his head.

"Cambyses, you’re just pissed because you weren’t included," Callie retorted. "You guys didn’t see even one *quarter* of our footage. He protected me nonstop."

"It’s the fact that you were that at *all*," Alex snapped. "You shouldn’t have been. You were a *kid* and he knew better. I can’t be pissed at you for it ... but I can be pissed as hell at *him*. I have zero respect for what he did with you."

"I actually agree with that," Blake chimed in. "You didn’t deserve to be pulled into that world."

"I asked for it!" Callie shot back.

"When I was eleven, I asked for Mary Poppins to come and be my babysitter," Blake replied. "Because I thought she was a real person."

"I don’t regret it." With a shake of her head, Callie pushed her barstool back and got to her feet. "You can judge us. You can even be skeptical or *angry* that you just now heard the story, but don’t blame him for something that we didn’t cause. This thing has been unfolding for centuries and we got closer to the truth than anyone else ever has. My mother knew what she was getting into when she married my father."

"No, she didn’t," Addison said. "She didn’t find out the truth about who he was until they got married. The *day* they got married, as a matter of fact. So, she didn’t know what she was getting into until she was standing waist deep in it. I mean, she had to watch her own father die because of -"

"Addison." Mark warned, telling her to shut up with his eyes.

Callie didn’t miss a moment of the exchange. Crossing her arms over her chest, she looked at her brother. "Apparently I’m not the only one who reads diaries."

Addison clapped a hand over her mouth when Cambyses gasped. Mark closed his eyes, counted to five, and said, "We’re sorry. It was just there and -"

"Just there?" Cam asked. "Hidden behind an oil painting isn’t really just *there*."

"We didn’t mean to," Mark swore, putting a hand on Addison’s leg. "It’s ... once we started reading we couldn’t put it down."

"It’s pretty gripping, huh?" Callie smiled at him. "We found it when we were about twelve. Mom doesn’t know, of course, that we know she got knocked up with Stavros before she got married."

Cam chuckled. "But it does give us a little tingle every time she starts preaching morals and abstinence. It’s just ... pleasing to know that the incomparable Melana Torres makes the same mistakes as the rest of us."

The incomparable Melana Torres walked into the kitchen looking like hell on wheels. Dressed in her robe and slippers, she saw the small crowd and made eye contact with each one, glaring into them with enough fire that everyone shifted uncomfortably. "What are you doing out of bed?" she snapped angrily.

"Uh, Mom, we’re not ten years old and having a sleepover," Cam replied innocently, blowing her a kiss. "Are you hungry?"


"Go to bed," she snapped. "I won’t tell you people again."

Mark and Addison didn’t have to be told for the third time. They both got to their feet, lifting their plates from the table. Melana shook her head and took them instead. "I need to clean something. Or break something."

Cambyses and Blake said nothing as she took their plates and shoved them in the sink. They followed behind Mark and Addison, mumbling their goodnights as they left the kitchen. Only Callie and Alex hung back. Melana grabbed Alex’s plate and looked at the mess Callie had made of her food. "Is that yours, mi vida?"

Ignoring the question, Callie asked one of her own. "Where’s dad?"

"I locked him in the bathroom," Mel replied, filling the sink with dishwater. "And so help me God, if you let him out I’ll break your arm."

"You need to break something. I’d rather you break me than my father."

Melana turned the faucet off, narrowing her eyes at Callie. "You better leave this room while you still can, Calliope, because I am mad as hell and there is nothing -"

"He hated lying to you. He didn’t think I knew it, but I heard him crying a lot of the time that we were gone. So -"

"If he was crying ... it was because he knew that I’d catch his ass one day and he was terrified of what I’d do to him."

"Your bark is worse than your bite," Callie told her. "You’re overreacting. As usual."

The plate that had been Callie’s hit the wall a few inches from her head and Melana reached for another. Alex jumped up and grabbed it before Mel could throw it. She held up her hands to indicate that she had surrendered and Alex looked at Callie. "Are you okay?"

"I’m *fine*," Callie snapped, her eyes on Melana.

"If you want to stay that way then GET OUT OF MY SIGHT!!" Melana yelled. "NOW!"

"Gladly!"

Alex watched his wife stalk from the kitchen and hurried across the room, picking up the pieces of the shattered plate. Melana joined him and he took her hand when he saw tears on her face. "I’m sorry, Melana. I can only imagine how you’re feeling right now."

"The same as you, I’d wager. I’m incredibly ashamed that you have married into this ... lunacy."

"I knew Callie was a lunatic when I said ‘I do’." He grinned. "Granted, I never realized that she was ‘Buffy the Vampire Slayer’, but hey, it’s just one more piece of her to love."

Melana cupped his cheek, smiling at him. "You do love her, son. Anyone can see that."

"And you do love Raph. Anyone can see that." Alex put his hand on top of hers. "What no one should see ... is their parents hitting each other, Mel. I don’t mean any disrespect, but you slapped him right in front of Callie and ... I’ve been there so I know that she felt it more than he did. And she doesn’t need to see *any* violence after what that man did to her. She doesn’t need to hear the two of you screaming at each other or doors being slammed because it scares her. And she’s been fearless for so long that she doesn’t know how to handle that."

"Oh, Alex, I didn’t even think."

"You’re thinking now." He got to his feet and helped her up. "What Raphael did was screwed up. A lot of things could have gone wrong, but I have no doubt that Raphael is the only other man who loves Callie as much as I do ... so I have to believe that he would have died to keep her safe. And I think he’d die before he hurt you ... because he looks at you the same way I look at her."

"Does my daughter realize that she’s married a man who possesses a crystal clear voice of reason?"

"Who do think made me find that voice?"

Together, they cleaned the kitchen. Alex walked her back to her room and smiled when he saw Raphael sitting on the foot of the bed. He gave her hand a reassuring squeeze and watched her walk inside, shutting the door softly behind her.

In his own room, he found Callie sitting the same way as her father. She got to her feet and started to say something, but he wrapped his arms around her, kissed her cheek, and told her he loved her. In the grand scheme of things ... that was all that mattered, he decided.

*~*~*~*~*~

Derek awoke with a start. Sweat beaded over his brow and the cover was a tangle around his limbs. Hot, he shoved it off and sat up on the side of the bed. A moment later, he felt Meredith’s hand on his shoulder and said, "I’m sorry for waking you up."

"It’s okay," she replied, kissing his back. "Are you in pain?"

"No."

"Then what’s wrong?"

"It’s the same dream every night." He watched the streetlight cast shadows on the wall as he gathered his thoughts. "The same damn dream. I’m back at work and I crack into a patient’s head and my hand won’t work."

Meredith reached around him and squeezed the hand in question. "It’s been working fine, Derek. Your therapist says that you’ll be operating again in no time."

"But - what if I -"

"I get the fear thing. I do. We make a living with our hands and yours are the best on the west coast, but you’re doing so well and -"

He got up and paced to the window, his back to her. "In my dream ... it’s Callie that I’m operating on and ... her brain is exposed and I say ‘I need someone to take over’ and she opens her eyes and says ‘What? You can’t save me again?’ and then ... she’s dead ... and that man who attacked her is laughing in the corner and everyone’s dead at his feet. Everyone. Mark, Addison ... you."

Meredith joined him at the window, her arms around his waist. "I happen to have it on very good authority that the man who stabbed you is still very dead and very buried."

"Earlier today ... I thought I saw him. I was coming out of my therapy session and you know how you feel someone watching you? I was walking across the breezeway to go give Richard an update and I just happened to look down and ... he was standing in the lobby just ... staring up at me. And he *smiled*, Meredith. He *smiled* and tilted his head and -"

"You’ve been on some pretty strong medications."

"I know." He nodded. "That’s what I thought, too."

"Come back to bed."

"Do you remember when you were almost blown up? You told me that you woke up that day feeling like something bad was going to happen. I feel that same way." Derek started to turn and look at her, but something caught his eye directly under the streetlamp. With a start, he eased the curtain back slightly and whispered, "Oh my god."

"What is it?"

"Tell me you see him."


Meredith gazed down from the second story and gasped. Standing under the streetlight was a man in a dark coat and ... he appeared to be looking right at them. "I’ll call 911."

Derek watched her rush for the phone and when he turned back to the window ... the man was gone.

But the window was fogged and was beading moisture on the inside despite how comfortable the temperature was. He reached up and touched it ... and a moment later there was a thump and a splattering of blood appeared on the outside of the glass.

"What was that?!" Meredith cried, the phone to her ear.

"It - it must have been a bird of some kind. I think it hit the window."

"The police are coming."

Derek, who had been burning up just moments before, shivered as a chill raced through him. Still gazing out the window, he said, "I never thought I’d say this ... but I feel like I’ve just seen a ghost."

Handing him his robe, Meredith nodded, "Right there with you."

The police arrived quickly and scanned the area. They also checked the yard for the bird that hit the window, but found nothing. Derek got the water hose out and squirted as much of the blood as possible from the glass, but gave up when he realized he’d need a pressure washer. The officers tipped their hats a while later and promised to increase security in the area. Derek made sure the door was locked and joined Meredith in the living room, where she offered him a cup of coffee. Grateful, he sipped it, then smiled when he saw what the new addition on the coffee table.

"A bible?" he asked.

"It was Izzie’s. She forgot it. I saw it while I was making our coffee and decided to leave it out."

"To ward off the bad mojo?"

"It’s really heavy. I could do some cranial damage with it if I needed to."

"Let’s hope you don’t."

They didn’t get any sleep that night.

Sitting on the sofa, they watched the minutes tick into hours. And the hours seemed to drag toward dawn.

*~*~*~*~*~