Kiev, Ukraine,1978
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A tall, lean man advanced toward a woman huddled over an infant in her lap, desperately trying to keep the cold away from her child.
"Did anyone follow you?" she asked the man, not glancing up from the sleeping girl. The man huffed, as if the question itself were an insult.
"I was going to ask you the same thing."
"But you didn't, because you know better." They both paused. "I haven't taken a single chance." The man crouched beside the woman on the bench, resting one hand on the child. The other he moved to put on her knee, but again, he knew better and let his hand fall back to his side.
"I - I think we can find another way." He tinge of hope in his voice brought a sad smile to her pained face.
"This is what is best," said the women with more strength in her voice than she felt she had as she stood. The man followed suit and let her lead the way down the deserted street.
They glanced over their shoulders at every turn and kept their backs against the wall. When they finally stood in front of the humble residence, the woman finally acknowledged the man by looking at him. Their eyes locked and the shared the pain for a moment before shifting their eyes to the little girl in the woman's arms.
"She has your eyes," the man said.
"Let's hope the similarities end there," she replied, her voice cracking against her will. If the man disagreed, he kept his thoughts to himself.
"Would you like to hold her?" Wordlessly, the man took the infant girl, cradling her in his long arms. He blinked back tears when the small girl wrapped her hand around a single one of his larger fingers. When he looked back to the woman, her face was streaked in tears. He wished he had the words to say to her, but his agony was as deep as hers.
"If she stays with us, her life will always be in danger. She will always be a target, and will never have the chance to live. I want her live," the woman said, stroking the girls fine hair.
"This is what is best," the man echoed from her earlier words. Together they walked to the steps of the orphanage but made no move to ring the doorbell.
"We can't wait to make sure they take her in. It would only be an excuse to follow her throughout the rest of her life. Nothing can ever link her to either of us," the man said. The woman nodded.
"It's time." Both parents pressed a lingering kiss to the girl's head, and wrapping her tighter in her plain white hospital blanket, they laid her on the step in the middle of the night, rang the bell, and said a silent goodbye to each other as they scurried off in opposite directions into the night.
/
It was months before they saw each other again, this time on the job. By that time, her chest had stopped aching from not breastfeeding, and he had stopped reaching to his empty right side in the middle of the night. Still, their eyes were empty. She had gone to great lengths to avoid him the entire case, exchanging no more than civil professional curtsies with him.
"Look, I know you don't want to - I don't either, but we need to talk," the man said, surprising her. The woman silently cursed herself for not checking the backseat of her car before climbing in alone.
"I know you wouldn't dare of speaking of what I believe is on your mind," she spat, chagrined.
"I swept the area and planted a jammer. No one can hear us."
"That is a moot point."
His indignant reply came as a shout. "Why does it seem like I am the only one who lost someone?" The words were barely out of his mouth when he felt a hand connect with his cheek. For such a small woman, she was quite forceful. As he regained his posture in his seat, he looked directly into her eyes for the first time in months. Torment, anguish, and exhaustion plagued her, perhaps the same emotions that fueled his own hell.
"I left my daughter in an orphanage. I lost the biggest part of me," she said. Had he not known behavior - had he not known her - so well, he would have missed her slight hitch in her breath and sheen across her eyes to let him know just how deeply she felt the schism between their baby and them. Feeling the gun pressed into his hip and feeling the ankle holster digging into skin reminded him why it was necessary.
Sliding a file up to the front seat, he spoke again. "A new program by the director wants orphans. We raise them, train them, teach them, give them parent's love. It could be our chance of redemption," he said when she hesitated. For a long while, she said nothing and he wondered if he should leave her be.
"Raise an agent? That is our redemption?"
"It's something."
"And I would be like a mother to these boy and girls, and turn them into dangerous and merciless agents." It wasn't a question about the operation.
"Yes, you would be like mother to these boys and girls," he repeated.
Her chin fell against her chest to give her time to collect herself. "No one could replace her, Owen," she said.
"No Hetty, no one can." Hetty and Granger sat in silence for some time, trying to come to terms with the state of their lives. "Think about the director's offer," he said before sliding out the rear side door.
/
Hetty sat at her one person kitchen table in the small apartment with Granger's file in front of her. Finally finding the courage to flip it open, she was met with a list of names and pictures, all orphaned children vulnerable and ready to be turned into government weapons. Yet she already knew that she would do this.
The top photo of a little blond boy caught Hetty's eye. She picked it up and read the back: Callen, G.
A/N~ I've had the first part of this story in my mind for a long time, and initially wanted to make a story that eventually turned into Hetty and Granger's daughter coming to NCIS, falling in love with Callen, and no one knowing who she really is until later down the road. Knowing myself and my uncanny ability to delay posting, as well as my interest with this past Tuesday's episode about Hetty's specific work with orphans, I decided to make this a one-shot on how she got into the process of taking and raising orphans and why she was so passionate about it. I threw in the Hetty/Granger shipping in there for fun too - I've always wondered if the two of them ever had some history. I hope you all liked it, or that it made sense. If anyone would like to make a spin off of this with Callen or any character and Hetty's orphaned daughter from this story, go for it.
Thanks!