Title: Shadows
Author: DizzyDrea
Summary: Some days, despite their best efforts, the shadows won anyway.
Rating: T
Spoilers: Lockup, tiny one for Disorder
Author's Notes: So, this literally came to me in the shower, completely written and just waiting to be typed out. I was planning on posting something else, but this seems more appropriate. I'm assuming they'll show us what Callen found out in the next episode, so this might be moot by next Tuesday. Still, my muse wouldn't leave me alone until I posted it.
Disclaimer: NCIS and NCIS: Los Angeles and all its particulars are the property of CBS, Paramount, Donald P. Bellisario, Belisarius Productions, Shane Brennan, Shane Brennan Productions, and a lot of other people who aren't me. I am doing this for fun and for practice. Mostly for fun.
~&O&~
G Callen sat on the bench, looking out at the ocean and soaking up the sun. He couldn't say what had propelled him to this beach, other than a hunch, but as stakeouts go, this wasn't half bad.
He'd come here as a child; it had been one of his favorite places. It was also the beach where that mystery man had given him the toy soldier. If the person who'd left the soldier on his sister's grave knew where he'd gotten the matching one, then this was the place he'd find him.
If he decided to show. Callen refused to consider that possibility. He knew he was taking an unconscionable risk, and he'd hear it from Sam when he got back. But there were a lot of shadows in his past, and just for once, he'd like to expose one to the light.
His phone rang in his pocket, breaking him out of his thoughts. He fished it out and checked the display. Hetty he could ignore, but not this call. Not Kensi.
Keying the answer button, he held the phone to his ear. Before he could get a word out, he heard her anxious voice.
"Where are you?" Kensi nearly shouted.
"What, no 'Hi' or 'How's it going?'" he asked, smirk firmly in place.
"Fine," Kensi ground out. "How are you? Things going okay? Can we move on now?"
"Ouch," Callen said. "Sounds like someone needs a cup of tea."
"Where are you, Callen?" she asked again.
He didn't miss the worry in her voice, but if he told her, she'd be in her car and by his side before the dial tone kicked in. He couldn't have that. For his safety and her own. He only hoped she hadn't heard the wave action or the seagulls in the background.
"Is everything okay, Kensi?" he asked instead.
Kensi sighed. She probably knew he was deflecting, but he didn't care.
"Moe's dead," she said quietly.
It took him a moment to sort through that. "What? How?"
There was dead silence on the line. Which meant it wasn't something she could talk about on an open line. Which meant it was big. He sighed heavily and leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees.
"How's Sam?" he asked, voice laden with grief for his friend.
"About how you'd expect," Kensi said. "Last I saw, he was beating the shit out of a heavy bag."
That was bad. "Are there any leads?"
"We know who did it," she said. "He's just…a bit outside our jurisdiction at the moment."
Which would explain Sam beating the shit out of the bag. Callen glanced around, but didn't see anything amiss. That was a blessing, because right about now, his attention was pretty far away from his current situation.
"G, when are you coming home?"
Callen winced. He could take a lot of things, but Kensi whining wasn't one of them.
"Soon," he said. "I've got something I need to take care of first."
"Something personal?" she asked, the word dripping with accusation.
She'd been talking to Hetty, he'd bet good money.
"You know I wouldn't have gone if it wasn't important," he told her.
Kensi sighed. "Yeah. I know. Just…there are people here who love you."
He got the subtext, then turned her words around. "I know. And you know I feel the same about you."
"Come home soon, G," she said again, softly this time.
"I will, Kensi," he said. "I promise."
He hung up the phone, dropped it back into his pocket and stared out into the ocean. Leaning back, he ran his hands over his face, heaving a big sigh. It seemed that none of them were safe from the shadows of their past. Kensi had been forced to relive her fiance's PTSD. He was sitting on a bench near the beach, waiting for a ghost from his own past.
And now Sam. He'd tried to save Moe's life, only to see him lose it. Some days, despite their best efforts, the shadows won anyway.
He rested his arms along the back of the bench, looking around, seeking a familiar face, something to tell him he wasn't wasting his time. Because as important as this was to him, Sam was like a brother. He couldn't and wouldn't leave him to deal with Moe's death alone, because Sam had yet to let him face the shadows alone.
It had taken a long time after they'd started working together, but Callen finally understood: together, they were bigger than the worst that life could throw at them. They'd face the shadows together, and they'd win.
That resolved, Called glanced at his watch. He'd give his mystery man another hour, then he'd walk. He had battles to fight, and promises to keep. The shadows wouldn't wait forever.
~Finis