This was suppose to go with my one-shot story, but truthfully the reviews weren't there for that story, and the quality wasn't at the expectation that I wanted. So instead, I decided to one shot this all on it's own. So enjoy (:
….
She has known from the beginning that this has always been a possibility. Sub-consciously she had probably prepared herself more, after every close call and brush with death, but nothing could totally prepare her for this feeling of utter loneliness. Her daughter stands to her left, her son to her right, and she loops her hand through theirs, clinging to their warmth. She makes eye contact with her daughter, who smiles sadly. Nell's heart aches for her children.
The service has started and she makes eye contact with Kensi who is farther down the pew. Deeks is sitting next to her, tissues in hand, that Kensi seems to be putting into good use. At Nell's eye contact, Deeks smiles softly, and Kensi puffs out her bottom lip. They are such opposites, even in crisis, and Nell suddenly wishes that she was like them, and her love was still alive, and the future still looked bright.
Sam is directly to her left, next to her daughter, and the sight of his larger body overshadowing her daughter, is almost laughable. She knows Sam has made a promise to be a father to her children, a promise he will keep forever, and at her glance, he places his hand on her knee for a second, calming her for a second. She is thankful for a man like Sam, a man who will always stand by his friends. She is blessed to have him in her life.
Eric is behind her, his wife and young children in tow. She knows Eric feels her pain, and she is thankful for his support, and all him and his wife have done the past few days, work-wise and personal-wise. She can hear his breathing pattern behind her, and in a way, it calms her down and takes her back to a better place. A place where she isn't at her husband's funeral.
They find themselves outside, as his coffin goes into the ground, a cold ground and Nell finds a tear hitting her cheek for a first time. She finds her daughter crying freely and her son bravely holding it in, a young man at thirteen already. Her children will never have the innocence of childhood again, a crazy man had taken that away from them in one gun shot. She remembers watching it on the screen, the drive to the hospital, Eric's reassuring voice, her children's faces, and the doctor's words. The whole event had been in fast-forward but yet so scarily clear. She remembers the last time; she has talked to her husband, the morning of, and how they had been joking about his sleep habits. How he had kissed their daughter, and waved good-bye to their son. This wasn't fair. Things like this didn't happen to good people.
"Mom?" Her daughter asks, and she looks into the blue eyes of her daughter, so worried and tearfilled. "Why did this happen?"
She wishes she could tell her daughter the truth, give her a bit of closure, but instead she bites her lip, begging God for strength. Her daughter will never know that her father died with three bullet holes, one in the heart, one in the leg, and one in the skull, that his chances of survival had been practically none, even for the great G Callen.
"I couldn't tell you, " She whispers to her daughter, wrapping her arm around her children as she watches Deeks, Kensi, Sam, and Eric make their way towards her, Hetty already standing in front of her. The expressions in their faces are heart-breaking because nobody saw Callen as destructible. Their job has consequences, and their consequences had stuck G Callen, friend, father, husband, six feet under ground.