I was reading some recent comments about unfinished Callen story lines and this idea for a one-shot came to mind. As always, the characters belong to CBS and Shane Brennan (with thanks for being able to use them). (And I.m working on finishing the other story I started, I promise.) Thank you all for the reviews! They are really appreciated and invaluable!
HOME
The rain slapped against the plane's window as Callen gazed out at Los Angeles. He'd been gone less than a week, but it felt like years. He hadn't told anyone where he'd gone or why—not even Hetty—and no one had pressed him for information. His team, his family, knew that there was always a reason when he didn't share information. Usually it meant the situation was personal, and this was more personal than most.
As the plane taxied across the runway to the gate, Callen undid his seat belt and waited. Most of the passengers were fidgeting, gathering their belongings, anxious to disembark after the 12-hour red eye flight. Callen wasn't. When the plane reached the gate and the boarding tunnel secured, the seatbelt light went out and the passengers stood up almost in unison, a jumble of arms and luggage. Callen waited. Sitting by the window, he wasn't in anyone's way. The movement of passengers began after a few moments and continued with fits and starts while Callen watched the rain in silence.
Finally, the plane was empty, and while a flight attendant began checking the seats for trash and personal items left behind, another walked back to Callen.
"They're waiting for you, Agent Callen."
He turned from the window and looked at her, nodded and stood up slowly. "Thank you," he said quietly as he pulled his overnight bag out of the overhead compartment and headed for the door. Callen couldn't see anything as he walked through the tunnel to the terminal, and when he came out into the terminal, he walked directly to the airline counter.
He took out his badge. "I'm Agent Callen."
The young man behind the counter looked at Callen's badge and then made a phone call. In a moment, he hung up and stepped out from behind the counter. He pointed down the terminal concourse. "If you go to the security desk at the entrance, someone will meet you, Agent Callen."
Callen nodded and then turned and started down the concourse to the security desk.
XXXXXXXXXXXX
The rain had stopped and sunbeams randomly broke out from behind the lingering grey clouds as Callen stood in silence, his overnight bag still on the ground beside him even though several hours had passed since he'd left the airport. Several people walked past him, speaking softly, and a few cars were parked nearby, but Callen didn't notice them. This had taken his whole life. He wondered for just a moment if he should have told Hetty, but he would do that later. He knew she wouldn't mind.
In a few more minutes, the work was finished. After the workers left, Callen knelt down. He closed his eyes and sighed with weariness but also with satisfaction that he had been able to get it done, and then Callen picked up his overnight bag and without glancing back, he headed in to work.
Behind him, the simple slab of marble read, "Clara Callen (Reznikov), beloved mother of Amy and Grisha finally home." And mother and daughter lay side by side.