Pivotal Moments.

Chapter 5

Callen woke up with a pain in his chest, he curled himself into a ball and whimpered.

Within seconds, Owen had moved from his spot on the chair to Callen's bedside. "Kid? You ok?" He was relieved to see he was awake. Callen had been out cold for two days. The doctor had been in to see him, but had said he was fine, so had left him there with Owen supervising him.

"Don't... hurts..." Callen said, moving away from Owen's hand that had just touched his shoulder.

"Are you injured?" Granger asked. "Do you want me to call the guards?"

Callen shook his head, and moved as far as he could away from Granger, turning so his back was against the wall. He looked at his cellmate, distrusting him intently.

Granger put a cloth in cold water, wrung it out and held it out towards Callen so he could clean his face.

Callen shook his head, "Can't..." he gasped. "Can't breathe..."

"I'll get a guard." Owen stood.

"No! No guard... please." Callen gasped.

Owen cursed to himself; that boy was as stubborn as his mother.

"Callen, come on son." Owen stressed to his young cellmate. "If you can't breathe you, need a paramedic; we have to call the guards."

Callen shook his head, "Had this pain once before; not sure why..." He stopped as he clutched his chest breathing heavily. "It goes away... like all pain..."

Owen sat and watched, as he realized Callen was either suffering from grief or a panic attack.

"Just breathe slowly." He advised.

Owen went to put his hand on Callen's chest to help him regulate his breathing, but the boy jumped and moved further away. "I'm sorry, I wasn't gonna hurt you," Owen promised. "I just wanted you to match your breathing with mine. It helps."

Callen shook his head; he could only vaguely remember being small.

Something happened, and then there was the pain and he was alone.

Again he had the pain, but now Dallas was not here. Dallas, the only person to even slightly show an interest in his well being, was gone. Again he was alone.

Callen did not even realize he was crying, as he curled in on himself trying to get his chest to stop hurting.

"What happened?" Owen asked.

Callen looked over at this man, again, he was showing an interest in him. Trying to make out like he was concerned. Why? What was his angle?

"Nothing unusual," Callen shrugged. "I'm alone, they beat me, it's life."

"It's not life Callen" Owen tried to convince him. " You can be better than this, you just need to trust someone."

"Trust? Trust who, you?" He painfully pulled himself upright and glared at Owen. "I don't even know you, and you don't know me; why would you care?"

"Why did Dallas care?" Owen pushed.

"Because..." Callen's reply trailed off, he actually had no idea why Dallas had cared. "He said I reminded him of his son."

"You sure Dallas had a son?" Owen questioned, raising his eyebrows. "Let's face it kid, right place, right time. Vulnerable kid, ripe to be turned to the cause, to support the Aryan Brotherhood. A word in the right ear, and they have a young recruit who will gladly die for the gang. You've been turned by them and they'll lead you down a bad road." Owen counseled.