Brotherhood
Chapter 1
...
He stumbled to his knees, his breathing labored and harsh in the humid air, and took a long look at the brackish black water in front of him before turning to see how close his pursuers might be. Hearing nothing but the unrelenting sound of crickets and frogs, he swiped once again at the blood that had seeped from the cut along his eyebrow and mingled with the sweat dripping from his hair. The light was rapidly disappearing, and the trees seemed to bend lower, their scraggly trunks closing in around him, heightening his anxiety. The cry of some unknown creature startled him, forcing out a curse as he staggered to his feet and started across the swampy ground beside the water, the foul smelling muck sucking at his boots. He reeled as the sloppy ground slid beneath him, throwing him off balance and aggravating the pain in his ribs and knee, but he didn't stop, his fear too great and his need to find a safe haven driving him on through the dense vegetation he had grown to hate. Tangled roots he could no longer see caught at his feet in the ever darkening swamp, and he cursed quietly to himself whenever he fell. Finally pausing once again to rest and listen, he scratched at the myriad bug bites covering his arms and face, running his hand behind his neck to tenderly finger the raw skin there. The sudden, far off sound of voices made him catch his breath, his hand trembling as he covered his face and spit out a whispered name almost as a curse, which it was to him. He had no hope if they found him, so he had to keep running until he could find a place to hide and wait them out, to survive as long as he could. Knowing their tracking skills, he reluctantly stepped off the bank into the dark, forbidding waters, holding in a dry laugh that came from the knowledge that there would be no help coming. He was alone, desperate and without hope, because no one knew where he was.
"Dumbass," whispering the well-worn nickname as he searched the edges of the waterway for a hiding place.
The shouts behind him grew louder, making him slow his pace and wade more quietly in the strangely lukewarm water. He could feel the mud squishing between his toes as his boots filled, and he pulled distractedly at the sweat soaked neck of the camo t-shirt he'd stolen from the man he'd escaped from. As the water rose to his waist he felt something glide past his leg and he stopped, shivering in spite of the heat, waiting and praying whatever it was would leave him be. When he looked up he could just make out a distant, dark shape against the indigo sky and he pushed forward, swimming silently until he gripped the limb of a fallen tree, its canopy offering a hiding place he desperately needed. Darkness enveloped him as he ducked underneath and waited for his eyes to adjust. The large, shallow roots had been ripped from the ground and the water had sluiced out an opening allowing him to crawl up between two of them and settle into the dry cavity behind. The rich and comforting smell of dirt surrounded him and he eased out a shaky breath, waiting for his heart to quit pounding. The exposed roots hung low overhead, almost completely blocking out what remained of the day's light, and he silently gave thanks that they hadn't brought the dogs.
A sneeze just above him made him freeze, and the foul curse that followed sucked away his breath. The familiar, gravelly voice made him angry that he had no weapon, wanting nothing more than to kill the man slowly and painfully, even though it would reveal his position and get him recaptured. The man was a psycho. A vile human being, if you could even call him that. His hands shook as he gripped his hair and pulled his head down to his knees, willing away the haunting images of his partner's death and trying to control his rage. His mouth formed a silent scream, one he couldn't afford to give voice to or it all would have been for nothing. He would survive. He would bring them all down and then he would kill the man hunting him and the bastard who had betrayed him.
...
"LA traffic sucks."
"What else is new, G?" Sam laughed.
"I'm just sayin'."
"What's got you so grumpy, partner?"
Callen didn't answer, and Sam frowned and settled in for one of those days. Whenever Deeks was away on an undercover assignment his partner became distant and grouchy. Sometimes it still surprised him that Callen and Deeks had formed such a deep bond, the two men spending off hours together whenever they could, or whenever Kensi wanted some time to herself. Once Callen had stopped fighting his feelings for Deeks, and been accepted into Deeks' far-flung adopted family, he had treated the younger man as if he were a rare gift, which in retrospect wasn't far from the truth for Callen. His partner had once been satisfied being a loner. He had gotten used to it. Over the years he had cultivated few friends except for him and possibly Hetty, but as close as the two of them were, his partner's relationship with Deeks was different. They had become like brothers and that close relationship had opened a whole new world to his partner and it had changed him. He was far more emotional now than he had ever seen him, and unafraid to display those emotions, especially if it concerned Deeks, and that sometimes complicated things. Sam wouldn't begrudge him a family, and that is what he had found with Deeks and the Atwoods and he was happy for him, no matter how difficult he was to handle if things went a little bit sideways.
"When are they due back?"
"Three days ago," Callen replied softly.
"You talk to Hetty?"
"I've talked to her everyday for three days," Callen said, a hint of anger in his voice.
Sam had sat with him on the couch in the bullpen the night he had returned from Santa Fe. He'd patiently listened as his partner had haltingly shared his fierce anger at seeing Deeks in the clutches of a disturbed family ready to end his life as if it meant nothing. He thought the experience had cemented Callen's commitment to Deeks. Now the two men watched out for each other, and teased one another in ways only brothers were allowed to. It never failed to get a smile out of Sam when they really argued, the disagreement usually ending with Deeks pulling Callen to him for a quick, brotherly hug. The look on his partner's face when that happened made days like this worth it. Sam had never been happier for him.
"You're pissed at Hetty aren't you?" Sam asked softly.
"She wouldn't even tell me what the assignment was or where he was going," Callen exploded, his eyes intense. "Why would she keep that from me, Sam?"
"You know Hetty, G," Sam replied as calmly as he could. "Everything is on a need to know basis."
"Yeah? Well, I need to know," Callen snapped.
"Maybe she didn't trust you."
"Why the hell not?"
"Don't tell me you wouldn't have charged out after him the minute he missed a check-in," Sam said.
"It's been three days," Callen shot back.
"Come on G. Just calm down and think," Sam replied reasonably. "You know undercover assignments are fluid. They don't follow a calendar. Just think about this logically and quit jumping to conclusions. Things aren't always as they seem. I know you're afraid for him and for Kensi, but don't get ahead of yourself and think the worst."
"I know," Callen replied quietly. "But, I don't have to like it."
"You've never had a lot of patience, so I'm not surprised," Sam laughed.
"You think he's okay?"
"I'm sure they both are," Sam replied calmly, wanting to reassure his partner even though he harbored some concern himself.
"But what if they're not?" Callen looked over at him with turbulent eyes. "What do I do if...if he's killed?"
"I told you not to think that way," Sam cautioned. "They're trained agents. They watch each other's back, so don't do this to yourself. It's not healthy."
"Life isn't fair, Sam," his voice full of resignation. "You and I both know that."
"Why are you thinking of the worse case scenario?" Sam asked angrily. "Stop it, G. You don't know what's happened and until you do, you have to keep believing he'll walk into the mission with that irritating, crooked ass grin on his face."
They sat in silence as they waited for the light to change, the warm air filled with a mixture of exhaust and the smell of the sea. Sam had never seen Callen like this before. He had seen him angry after they rescued Deeks from South Africa, roaring with it when they'd let him be taken again. Sam had watched him fight his growing attachment to Deeks, but after France he had simply given in and been caught up in the force that was the Atwood family. When he'd gotten the call from Joe that he was missing in Santa Fe, he was so focused Sam wasn't sure he'd heard anything he'd said, but he had never been fearful and he had never lost hope. Callen was a survivor. He always figured a way to deal with whatever came his way, so this attitude was new, as if he expected to have the rare gift of a brother ripped away from him.
"You should see him on a horse," Callen said quietly. "He and Joe race each other and Deeks gets beat every single time. I can tell he's pissed about losing, but he just jokes about it like he does with everything else. Elan teases him without mercy, though. He's a good rider, but even Elan's son, Soldier, beats him in a horse race."
"You ever race him?" Sam asked, trying to picture Callen willingly getting on a horse.
"Yeah...the long weekend we spent at the ranch right before he left for this op. George put me on a quarter horse that used to race the local circuit," he laughed. "I sat on a pillow for the rest of the weekend."
"Did you win?"
"No...and Deeks didn't let me forget it. Joe and Elan either," Callen smirked. "Bragged about it the whole weekend."
"How's Soldier doing?" Sam asked.
"Turned twelve a couple of months ago," Callen replied. "He's had some rough patches, but nothing that family can't handle. Tried to run away a couple of months after he got to the ranch, but those three men just tracked him down and then they all spent the night camping out in an abandoned cabin. George said Jim Littleshield told him old Arapaho ghost stories. His version of scaring the kid straight I guess."
"How about Elan Hand? He still seeing Lily?"
"He's in France right now," Callen said. "Took Soldier with him."
"Think he'll ever agree to go to work for Hetty?"
"He won't leave Soldier," Callen said, shaking his head. "Being a good father is more important to him than anything Hetty can offer."
"Lucky kid."
"He deserves it after the childhood his mother and the Freitas clan put him through."
The ring of both their cell phones cut off their conversation and Callen shot a worried look at him, so he reached over and squeezed his shoulder before answering.
"What's up, Nell?" Callen asked sharply.
"Hetty wants you both in Ops," Nell said in her no nonsense voice. "Now."
"Nell, is this..."
"Just get in here Callen," she ordered and ended the call.
"She's been taking Hetty pills again," Callen snapped. "It must be bad if she wouldn't tell me over the phone."
"Don't go there, G," Sam said firmly as he wheeled the Challenger around the line of cars and made an illegal left turn in front of oncoming traffic. After that Callen became sullen and cut off any attempt Sam made to ease his fears. By the time they got to the mission, Callen was not only agitated, but even more pissed off than before and he felt for whoever got in his way as he rushed inside and took the stairs to Ops two at a time. When the doors slid open Hetty stood alone, waiting for him.
"Is it Deeks? Is he dead?" Callen demanded, his eyes red rimmed as he tried to get control of himself.
"Why in the world would you think that, Mr. Callen?"
"Dammit Hetty...just tell me," he exploded, and Sam grabbed his arm as he took a step toward their boss.
"Mr. Deeks is very much alive, Mr. Callen, and I'm sorry if I caused you to think otherwise," she said softly as she clasped her hands in front of her. "But, he is at the hospital with Kensi, who suffered a badly broken leg during the final assault."
"Will she be alright?" Sam quickly asked as Callen let out a shaky breath.
"Yes, but that wasn't the sole reason I called you in, Mr. Callen," she replied.
Callen shot Sam a long and questioning look, before facing Hetty once again.
"What's going on, Hetty?" He asked.
"Joe Atwood has gone missing," she said quietly.
Callen looked as if he'd been slapped in the face and Sam gripped his shoulder and watched him carefully.
"I thought you would want to be the one to break the news to Mr. Deeks. He's exhausted right now, and worried about Kensi. You can decide if he's up to hearing the details."
"What are the details?" Sam asked, seeing that his partner still looked stunned by the news.
"There aren't many the FBI was willing to share," she said with exasperation. "He was on loan to another field office and I got the distinct impression that they have no idea where he is."
"What was he working on?" Callen asked tightly.
"They wouldn't tell me that," she replied. "Or what field office he'd been assigned to, but I sensed it was out of state."
"How'd you find out?" Sam asked with a deep frown.
"Roger Stinson called me," she said. "He's now the Executive Director of the FBI's National Security Branch. He knows how close the two men have become and thought Mr. Deeks should be told."
"You're telling me their own Executive Director doesn't know where his agent is?" Callen's voice was venomous. "How long has he been missing?"
"They lost track of him a week ago."
"And they have nothing?" Callen asked angrily. "Let me talk to his handler. They have to know something."
"You go deal with Mr. Deeks, and let me deal with the FBI," she said firmly.
"He's gonna want answers, Hetty," Callen said, his facade of control fracturing as he spoke.
"As I'm sure you do," she replied kindly. "I know you've grown close to Joe since Santa Fe. And I know this news isn't any easier for you than it will be for Mr. Deeks, but he'll need your strength, Mr. Callen."
"Have they told Diane?" He asked.
"Roger Stinson was handling that conversation," Hetty said.
"What about George? And Elan and..."
"Slow down, G," Sam urged. "Let's get to Deeks first."
"Yeah...You're right," Callen murmured.
"I'll keep you posted Mr. Callen," Hetty told him as he rushed out of Ops.
"I've never seen him this shaken," Sam said softly.
"Keep an eye on him, Sam. Deeks too," she replied. "If they lose Joe, it might just tear them apart."
"Or bring them closer together."
"This is all new to them...having brothers, a family...all of it," she said. "One never knows how a loss like this might affect such a newborn family. I'm not sure how Callen or Mr. Deeks will deal with the emotional impact this might cause."
"They haven't lost him yet, Hetty," Sam said. "And if I know anything, it's that those two will move heaven and earth to find Joe and bring him home. Never doubt that."
"They'll need your counsel, Sam," Hetty said as she walked him out. "They'll need a voice of reason, and someone who can help them keep their emotions in check. You're part of their brotherhood too, Sam. Don't forget that."
"Never have...never will."
...
Callen charged through the ER like a hurricane, gruff with whomever he spoke to, with Sam following in his wake, soothing ruffled feathers where he could. It had been a busy day in the city and the doctors and nurses were in no mood to put up with the demanding agent, so it was Sam who got real directions as to where their teammates might have ended up. When they finally saw the familiar mop of messy blond hair, Callen suddenly became calm, allowing all the breath he'd been holding to rush out, deflating before Sam's eyes.
Deeks was slouched in a blue plastic chair in a corner of the ER, his arms crossed over his chest, his head nodding in sleep and his long legs stretched out in front of him. Even with all the shouted demands for tests, calls for more blood, crash carts and the sad sounds of people in distress, he didn't move, continuing to sleep through all the craziness going on around him.
"Hetty wasn't exaggerating when she said he was exhausted," Sam said as the two men stood staring down at him.
They took in the obvious signs that the op he'd been on hadn't gone as planned. His t-shirt was filthy and stained with dried blood, and what appeared to be a handprint. He wore a bandage around his upper right arm and his jeans were coated in dust, the knees ripped, and his left pant leg streaked with blood.
"Deeks," Callen called out to him softly from a few steps away, knowing he might still be in tactical mode.
Getting no acknowledgement, he moved to his side and placed a hand on his shoulder, and got an irritated grunt in response. When he shook him gently, Deeks mumbled something incoherent and then exploded awake, lurching to his feet and swinging wildly at Callen, his eyes wide and his expression fierce.
"Hey, kid, it's just me," Callen ducked away and caught his wrist before he could take another swing at him.
Deeks blinked sleepily at him and then flashed a soft, relieved grin and collapsed back into the chair, rubbing his hands over his face as he struggled to come fully awake. His left eye was ringed in lavender and there was a butterfly bandage on his forehead and his knuckles were badly scraped.
"Looks like you lost a couple of rounds to somebody, Deeks," Sam chided him with a smile.
"A building actually," he said, his smile gone. "The bastards had it rigged. Had to dig Kensi out of the rubble."
"How's she doing?" Callen asked, gently squeezing his shoulder.
"She was over there a minute ago," he looked confused as he pointed at the empty emergency bay, the floor cluttered with bloody gauze pads.
He was up and out of the chair in an instant, pushing between Callen and Sam as he shouted at a passing intern.
"Where's Agent Blye?" He demanded. "She was just here a few minutes ago."
"The brunette with the compound fracture?" The intern asked. "They took her up to surgery almost two hours ago."
"Two hours?"
Deeks stared numbly at the young man until Callen put an arm around him and steered him toward the elevators.
"They were supposed to come get me when they moved her," Deeks mumbled.
"The way you were snoring, they probably gave up trying to wake you," Sam said.
"How long since you slept?" Callen asked as they entered the elevator.
"Couple of days. The deal went down at three this morning and we got separated," he replied. "There was a firefight when the tactical squad breached the building. I got clipped in the arm by Kensi's mark...guess by then he'd figured out we weren't who we said we were..."
"Deeks? You okay?" Callen looked at him closely as he guided him out of the elevator.
"I screwed up, G," he said, his face now drawn with exhaustion and regret. "I shouldn't have let her out of my sight."
"Kensi can take care of herself. You know that," Sam said as they all settled into a grouping of chairs outside the recovery room.
"You couldn't have known the place was rigged," Callen said.
"We saw each other just before the place blew," he breathed out. "She was coming out of one of the back rooms...then the explosions started...one right after the other...and we all started running."
"They rigged it to blow in successive blasts," Sam commented.
"I'm glad you made it out okay," Callen said quietly.
"I couldn't find her..." He continued as if he hadn't heard, his voice choked with barely held tears. "I thought she was dead...till I heard her call my name. Her voice was so weak...it scared me. She was hit by a falling beam and buried in debris...seemed like it took forever to dig her free."
"But you got her out and she's gonna be all right," Sam said confidently. "I'll go see if I can get an update."
He stood quickly, looking pointedly at Callen and shook his head before turning toward the nurses' station.
"Looks like you could use some coffee, brother," Callen said, placing his hand gently on his shoulder. "Another quick nap won't hurt while I go find some."
"I wanted to tell you about the assignment, G," Deeks said, finally looking at him. "Hetty said no. Why do you think she did that?"
"Why does Hetty do anything?"
"That's a loaded question," he replied with a yawn. "Don't think I have an answer for that right now."
"I'll find us some coffee," Callen said anxiously as he stood up.
"I need to call Joe. He'll want to know I'm back," Deeks said, pulling his phone. "It's been over a month. You talk to him lately?"
"Don't call," Callen said.
"Why?"
"He's on assignment somewhere," Callen said as calmly as he could. "Out of state I think."
"How do you know that?" Deeks asked with surprise. "Did he call you? And why would he be out of state? He usually doesn't reveal assignments..."
"Slow down the interrogation, Agent Deeks," Callen said a little too sharply. "You rest. I'll bring coffee. Then we'll talk."
Deeks stared at him with a quizzical look on his face, and Callen turned away before Deeks could read the turmoil in his eyes. Since spending so much time together they had both learned to read each other pretty well. It was becoming harder to keep things from him, and now was not the time to tell him Joe was missing. He was having enough trouble dealing with the aftermath of almost losing Kensi.
"Callen? What's going on?"
Deeks' voice stopped him before he got too far and his shoulders sagged in defeat. He turned to see him standing, his expression intense and his eyes searching his own.
"Did something happen to Joe?"
Callen didn't answer and was thankful to see Sam come around the corner. His partner read the situation immediately and with a knowing look, walked quickly up to Deeks and took his arm.
"Kensi's in recovery. The nurse says you can sit with her," Sam told him. "She's waking up and she's gonna want to see that you're okay. Come on, Deeks. Don't make her worry."
"Yeah..no," he mumbled, running a hand through his tangled hair as Sam tried to pull him away.
Deeks looked back at Callen with a wounded look on his face that cut right through his heart. Images of Joe laughing as he tackled Deeks into a snow bank last Christmas tore at him and he dropped his head, unable to look at him. His own fear mingled with the need to keep the hurt from touching Deeks, but he knew it was too late for that. As exhausted as the kid was, he knew something was terribly wrong and all Callen could do at the moment was to comfort him. He reached him in three strides and wrapped him in a powerful hug, whispering out the news that he hoped wouldn't devastate the man he had come to call brother.
...
Joe had always thought of swamps as quiet places, secluded and empty of life, but now he knew just how wrong that was. The air sang with a discordant chorus of sounds, some he recognized and others he didn't. The low growls were disquieting in the darkness, while an occasional nerve wracking screech kept him just on the edge of screaming. Creatures moved through the undergrowth and fluttered high in the canopy of trees overhead, so he hadn't slept much, afraid some unwelcome guest might join him in his hiding place.
The men chasing him had given up hours ago because of the darkness, but their mention of bringing the dogs back at first light was a threat that never left his mind, keeping his stomach in knots. To distract himself, he slipped off his boots, checking on the painful cuts and bruises he had suffered on the march they had forced him to endure barefoot. The lack of socks had added blisters to the list of painful reminders of his capture, but at least the boots he'd taken from the dead guard fit him. He supposed he should be grateful for that. Stretching out his body, clammy with sweat, he closed his eyes and tried to ease the muscles that were cramping despite the breathlessly warm temperature.
He jerked awake, cursing himself for nodding off and slapped away an iridescent beetle crawling up his arm. As he struggled back into his wet boots, his mind drifted toward home, wondering if he would ever see his sweet little son again or hold his amazing wife in his arms. He knew the pain his disappearance would cause her and his family, especially his father, and he regretted the mistakes that had landed him here, but feeling sorry for himself would do him no good. Deeks' voice echoed in his head, telling him to get moving or he would kick his ass. The kid had survived some horrific times, never giving in to complete despair, fighting until the end and he could do no less. He would never forgive himself if he caused him pain, knowing what it felt like to lose a brother. A driving need to see all of his family again and make it back to his wife and son renewed his determination to survive. Cursing softly, he took a deep breath and forced himself to get up and move.
His weakened knee throbbed and he gasped as his broken ribs shifted, the slicing pain stealing away his breath, but he bit back a scream and crawled out from under the roots that had hidden him. With barely enough light to see, he stumbled through the thick undergrowth, his t-shirt catching and tearing as he forced his way through. The distant sound of barking dogs filled him with uncontrollable fear, and sent him splashing once again into the black water, hoping to throw them off his scent. He fought to control his erratic breathing as he waded into the deepening water, but the sudden heavy beating of wings startled him. He almost laughed out loud as a large brown pelican rose into the yellow sky, and headed north ahead of him. He decided it was a good omen, something his Arapaho ancestors might have sent to guide him and he began to swim.
...
...