I do not own NCIS: LA in any way beyond owning the DVDs. I do not make any money from this.
I apologise for the little bit of speech in German. I do not speak it, so I used google to help me translate. If you want to correct any of the phrases, feel free. i have also given Eric a family, but they will not be the main focus, as that will be Callen and Eric.
The idea for a younger sister with a name beginning with R came from the episode where they were signing. Eric said he learnt it when he was 7, because he grew up with someone called R_ who was deaf. They ways that last bit was translated made me think it would be most logical if it was a younger family member who they found was deaf when he was 7, so he had to learn it to communicate.
I gave him an older sister called Alice as well, who has her own family. He mentions having a Gammy, who he played puzzles with, and I have given him an Oma as well, a German Grandmother.
"Hello?... Oh. Hallo, Oma." Eric smiled awkwardly at the agents for a moment, before turning his back to them. It was nearly 10 in the evening, and they had been arranging to go out for a drink.
"Oh, mir geht es gut. Nein, Oma... Es ist seiben Uhr morgans dort drüben, nicht wahr ?"
"You coming?" asked Sam. "Cos, you can have this conversation in the car, right?"
They started heading off when Eric nodded his head.
"Muss ich den Arzt rufen? Wurden sie, wenn Sie Ihre Medikamente wieder?" He pulled the phone away to scramble into the back of Callen's car, thankful he wasn't in the same car as Deeks, who didn't seem capable of being quiet for very long. "Ok. Ich werde klingeln sie, wenn ich bis in den Morgen zu bekommen. Nein, es ist spät hier Oma. Ich werde auf einen Drink mit meiner ... Kollegen. Danach habe ich mich ins Bett. Ja, soll ich es nennen, wenn ich aufstehe."
Even speaking in another language, he felt odd talking to his Grandma in front of other people. He was perfectly aware that the others were proficient in foreign languages, and German would be no exception.
"Ja, ich werde das tun. Ok. Ich liebe dich auch Oma. Gute Nacht. Ja, ich meine, guten Morgen für dich, aber ... Es spielt keine Rolle. Ich liebe dich, Oma. Ich will mit dir reden später."
He hung up, smiling. She kept saying she was going to come out and visit him over here, and though he rather doubted it would ever happen, he was hopeful. It would be nice. She was calling more and more often now though, and she sometimes seemed to forget he lived in another country; he felt a great deal of concern over this in case it was an early onset on dementia. He knew it could just be her age catching up, but when he couldn't nip over once or twice a week to check in on her, it was difficult.
Callen and Sam chattered in the front, Sam winding G up in the usual manner, but Eric didn't really pay attention. He wanted to phone his Gammy too, but it would have to wait. Instead, he fired off a quick text to his sister, wishing her a good night as he did at 10pm every night and climbed out the back seat, stretching his legs once out. After Rachael's text back he stuck his cell in his pocket and headed into the bar with everyone.
Eric sat beside Nell, quietly sipping his beer as the others chatted. They were currently discussing their favourite weapons, and he had never used anything more dangerous than a steak knife. He watched Callen, who was leaning back in his chair and smirking at Deeks and Kensi.
G Callen. Eric greatly admired the man. He was strong, confident and insults tended to wash over him. Eric often noticed the difference between them; he was frequently awkward, shy and apparently lacking in a good sense of humour. Callen was handsome in a way Eric really wasn't, and he was good at understanding people, never mind the fact that he was good at bluffing, lying and he could improvise things well. He was good at sports, at hunting... various other bits and pieces that Eric had always wanted to have skills in. His father and uncles had always been keen in those areas, but Eric had preferred computer, video games and different games, like cards and chess that they had considered a waste of time.
He didn't want to be jealous, but it was hard not to be. However, he was aware he had his uses. Eric knew fine well no one except maybe Nell would be able to hack into databases as well as he could. He knew they would not be willing to sit around and do the office side of things all day like he did. He could still remember the time Hetty had told him she put up with his flip-flops and his gaming in the Ops Centre because he was the best at what he did. He would have liked to actually have it framed and on the wall in his apartment.
He turned his attention to the young of lads singing karaoke, vaguely hoping none of his colleagues, his friends wanted to do the same. He stood up and headed over to the bar to get another round.
He would have to remember to contact his family tomorrow; or, he would have to contact the family members he was still speaking to. It was his younger sister's birthday tomorrow, Rachael. He would send an email to arrange meeting up with Rachael, his older sister, Alice and her husband, and his Gammy. Their Oma was still in Germany, so she couldn't come, but five of them would be enough. He liked to go somewhere that looked nice with his sister because Rachael was deaf.
He may ask one of the team for advice; it would be cool to go somewhere new.
By 11pm, Eric decided to head home, eyes drooping even as he walked through the streets. He was tired enough not to remember how much time he spent in that one hour staring at Callen.
Eric grinned as he balanced on the board, shifting his weight to ride the wave. This was his thing, this was what he did nearly every morning and it helped him relax. He was aware agents were not supposed to develop routines, but he had only once worked out of ops; that disastrous time he nearly got 'frelted'.
He felt well rested after the previous night. He had made it home without incident and fallen asleep still dressed. It clearly did him good though; he had slept well and now was feeling refreshed in the cool water.
So far, the day had been good. Eric had gotten up at 6am, flung on some clean clothes before heading out to join the dawn patrol. He'd had a bite to eat and checked his emails with his cell on the bus, wandered down the beach and over to the boathouse to collect his board, a towel and drop of his gadgets before walking down the bike path and crossing over the bridge and down to the beach.
Eric had dumped his glasses, flip-flops and his shirt with his towel before strapping his leash to his ankle and heading to the water. The beach was still pretty quiet this early in the morning, tourists liked to enjoy their time off with a lie-in. There were some good waves though, and very few people trying to ride them. Eric had smiled before tucking his board under his arm and jogging down to begin his morning activity.
He had paddled out and popped up, catching his wave smoothly. As he moved, grinning, there was a shot. Eric's body was knocked off balance as a bullet caught him, he fell and plunged into the water, his head smacking off the surface as he went.
Nell sighed as she waited. It was 9.30am and Eric still wasn't in. 7am. He always arrived within 10 minutes of this time, and now he was two hours and a half out. She was not exactly worried, more curious. He had to be really enjoying his morning surf to be this late, or maybe he had decided not to come in early for once; He wasn't actually supposed to start until 9.
"Still not in, Miss Jones?"
"Oh, um... not yet."
"I suppose you will have to do the briefing then." Hetty gave her a steady look that she couldn't interpret, before handing her a file.
"Oh... Kay..." She murmured.
A whistle pierced the air, halting the debate on the best Leslie Nielson film. The four agents stood up, heading up the stairs as Sam hissed "The Naked Gun is way better."
"You say that," replied Callen, "only because you are delusional. Airplane! leaves it in the dust."
"Naked Gun."
"Airplane!"
"Alright," started Nell, "this is Lieutenant James Harper. He is a man on the way up, he is also missing."
As the man's face lit up the screens, Nell glanced at her watched. 9.55am. Eric still wasn't here. The day was heating up though; perhaps he had gotten distracted by the cool temperature of the water.
"He hasn't been seen since Tuesday afternoon, when he had lunch with his fiancée, Amy. There is evidence of a struggle at his apartment and L.A.P.D. has handed over the crime scene to us."
"Ok." Callen took a moment to think. "Sam and I will head over to his apartment, and if you can send Kensi and Deeks an address for Amy, they can speak with her."
"Right. Also... umm, have any of you heard from Eric? He's over an hour late now."
"Eric? No." Kensi stepped forward. "You want us to look for him?"
"We shall keep an eye out for him. You have your assignments, so go." Hetty's word was law, and the agents left. Nell sat down in a chair, swivelling to face a computer to track Eric's phone.
"Federal Agents!"
"Why do they always run?" The two men pounded the pavement as they ran full tilt at the fleeing man. They ran through the back alleys and over fences, scrambling around as they followed.
"Stop!" Sam's voiced echoed loudly through the compact alley. The young man made the mistake of glancing back, not spotting Callen as he turned a corner ahead and ran towards him. Moments later, he was face down on the ground, enjoying a view of the concrete with the agent crouched down beside him.
"I hate the easy ones. They're kinda boring." Callen looked up at his friend, a smirk threatening to escape.
"Whatever you say, G. C'mon."
They drove over to the boathouse, keeping the guy blindfolded as they headed inside. Callen frowned at the pile of objects on the table as they led him through. As Sam shut him in, Callen walked over to the table. Underneath the light-weight green jacket sat a phone, an mp3 player and a tablet device. He pressed the power button on the phone, and it showed the lock screen with a background of a wave curving over.
He dialled his phone, ploughing straight into the problem when he heard Nell answer.
"Is Eric there yet?"
"No, not yet..." she sounded worried, and he saw Sam frowning at him.
"I'll have a look around the beach."
It was 2pm, and it was getting hot. There were people out in floods on the beach, but Callen and Sam went around the surf shops asking.
It wasn't until they reached one of the bars that they got any information. A young woman was trying to convince the bartender that she had seen someone get shot this morning.
"Hey, what is it you're saying?"
"Th-The cute guy, from the beach. He was shot this morning."
"What's he look like?" The young woman blushed pushing her long, blonde hair out of her face. She bent down and reached into her bag pulling out a camera.
"It's not... It's just... he is a really... good surfer..." She began to wring her hands. "I... I like to watch him."
"What happened?" whispered Callen.
"He was surfing, and... at first I thought he had wiped out. He didn't get back up though. Then this lifeguard went into the water and carried him out. Oh, I have his stuff. His surfboard, though his leash was cut on it. Here... His glasses, and his shoes and his top."
"No towel?"
She flushed deeper then pulled that out the bag as well.
"Can... can you bring my camera back when you have looked at it? I can't actually afford new one."
"I'll bring it here."
They left quickly, heading to their car to get back to the office.
Once at the office, Nell had taken the camera and begun to gather information they could use. Callen had walked out of the ops centre though. He had watched the first run through of the video taken. He had watched as Eric had dropped his towel, kicked off his flip-flops and skimmed off his shirt, as he dropped his glasses and fastened the cord around his ankle. He watched as Eric headed to the water.
He had felt immensely uncomfortable just watching this, knowing he was watching his friend in an unguarded moment, when he had not known someone was watching. He had watched Eric's skinny body head out into the water and head towards the shoulder of the wave; he took s moment to note the less than muscular but still attractive sight. He watched Eric fall.
Callen was surprised at how ill it made him feel, watching someone head into the water and pull his friend out, tucking a penknife back into his shorts and he pulled Eric's unconscious and bleeding body into his arms.
The video had ended just as they came out the water, but Nell had zoomed in on Eric, showing that his shoulder had blood trickling down from it. It didn't seem to be a bad wound, it wasn't bleeding copiously, but Callen still felt concerned.
As Nell set off the facial recognition program for the lifeguard and began to play the video back again, Callen had turned around and left. He was now sat on the top stair, staring blankly out at nothing. They still had to clear up what had happened with James Harper, but he couldn't focus his mind on anyone else. His thoughts were consumed with Eric Beale.
He experienced a surge of irrational anger at the woman who had been recording him, he felt another surge of anger at Eric; how stupid was he? To have a routine so predictable that he was being recorded on a frequent basis by a suspicious young woman? It was as if he knew nothing of changing his routine, never heading home the same way...
But Eric was not someone who went out in the field. He was not recognisable as a face from NCIS.
There were certain discrepancies in this case. Eric's kidnapping did not seem to be the work of professionals. Sure, it would have taken a precise shot to hit him while he was surfing, but they could just have easily killed him; and taking him while on the beach, even that early in the morning was foolish, especially when someone had their camera out.
However, it was clear Eric had been the target, not just some random victim. Whoever knew to target Eric had to have inside information that he was working with them. Elements of this seemed professional, while other bits were sloppy.
Perhaps mercenaries? Who didn't care about the aftermath once they had achieved their goal?
He wondered where Eric was. He knew he was more worried about this than he would be if it was anyone else. Anyone else could escape when taken by someone this sloppy, but he was not sure if Eric could.
Hetty had mentioned that he hadn't had a gun that time he went undercover and he had said he hadn't wanted one. He had felt a warmth at the time, there was a certain innocence about Eric that made him smile, but the idea that Eric may have a chance to escape, but lacked the confidence to do so was... concerning. He wasn't the type to hurt anyone, and Callen really didn't want that to chance. He had seen the difference it had made to Nate, and while it wasn't always noticeable, he wanted to keep Eric free from it.
"G, you ok?"
"Yeah. I'm good."
"You sure?" Sam sat down beside him, warm eyes seeking out his in concern.
"Yeah." Sam didn't move, and after a moment he sighed. "Eric might be one of us, but he hasn't had the same training. And we have no idea why they have taken him."
"Nell is searching traffic cams now. She'll find something."
"What if they want information? What if they want to know something and Eric can't keep quiet? Or, what if he can and they really hurt him?"
"We'll find him."
"I know, but..."
"When Dom was taken, you kept telling me that we couldn't do anything until we had the intel to move with. This is the same; we have to wait for Nell. This is better, cos we haven't had too big a gap in between him going missing and us looking. Don't worry, G."
"Yeah. Thanks."
He continued to scowl across the space, even as Sam clapped a hand to his shoulder and stood up. What if they did want sensitive information? Or what if they knew Eric was a hacker, and needed him to access information...
He pressed his face into his hands, frustrated at feeling so helpless, and annoyed that it was bothering him so much.