Cal could definitely figure it out, though after that first admission from Leandro, this one didn't knock him off of his tracks. In his time working with inmates, Cal had heard stories just as bad and worse, the kinds he wasn't sure he'd want to live through, and what he'd learned from them was that reactions cost you opportunities. People attached shame and stigma to their assaults, and if they saw it in others then there was nothing that would let them accept help. Even if Leandro had asked for it.
"Leandro, I'm gonna do more than one thing for you, you got my word on that," Cal said first, his tone steady as he met and held the other man's gaze. "We can take a blood sample and I'll send ten requests a day to have it tested 'til these boys in charge do it, but depending how long ago it was that you were assaulted? We may need to keep running tests. The HIV virus can stay dormant up to six months before it shows on screenings." Through it all he kept that demeanor that had come so naturally to him; steady, dependable, but engaged beyond just a clinical level, like his expression made it clear that it wasn't just work for him.
"But whatever comes of this, whether your internal damage is better or worse than you think? You need a better goal than bein' kept alive, man," Cal stressed quietly, setting his pen aside. "None of us in here got here because things were good, you know? And I'm not sayin' I had it worse than you, I'm not whippin' anything out to get measured," he clarified with a slight chuckle, "Just... just try buyin' the idea that there's more to life than what you've known. Don't decide that what your life was is what it's always gonna be. That's the pride of assumption, and my momma always used to say that pride was a fool's fortress."