A/N: I don't own NCIS: Los Angeles, CBS, or any other known entity.


Try to Find a Way

The beach was empty this evening, not to his surprise. December, 50s for a high, windy… many didn't find that ideal beach weather. But it was good walking weather, and he needed a break from the new house. He wasn't running away, though. Just walking. And in his walking, he saw another kid out there, sitting desolate in the sand. He found it odd, not only because it was so cold and the kid wasn't wearing a jacket, but because the kid had to be a lot younger than him. Had the kid run away from home? Surely someone would notice he was missing…

The kid jumped to his feet and turned as he walked up, fear evident in the youngster's face. "What do you want?" he called out.

"Nothing," he replied, shrugging.

The kid wasn't convinced.

He stopped walking toward the younger kid, standing about ten feet away. The kid had platinum blonde hair that was long and unkempt, clothes that were covered in probably a week's worth of filth and were two sizes too big, at least. It all added up to one thing. "You a foster kid?"

The child furrowed his brow. "What's that?"

Doesn't he have parents who care? he thought. "Kids who live with other people who aren't their parents."

He scoffed. "I wish I was."

"It's not good," he told him seriously.

The kid shrugged. "Anything's better than what I have."

And somehow, the older child didn't doubt it. "What's your name, kid?"

"Marty."

"Marty, I'm Callen…"


All those years later, there was no way he could've immediately recognized him. The disheveled kid on the beach had grown into a tall pain in the ass. Hetty had to have known, and that was his first clue that he should've recognized it sooner. Especially since he walked the kid home that day. He sure as hell never thought they'd meet again. But then, there was Hetty…

"G? You okay?"

Sam's voice snapped Callen out of his reverie. "Huh?"

Sam smirked slightly. "You look like you saw a ghost."

Callen shook his head, watching Deeks chat with Eric about surfing. "Just remembered something, that's all."

"What is it?"

"Old stuff. From being a kid. That's it."

Sam knit his brow together. "Like what?"

Callen shook his head in dismissal. "Nothing important."


Marty was hesitant, resistant. "Are you gonna make me go home?" he asked.

"Not if you don't want to," Callen replied.

"Well, I don't."

"Okay, then. How old are you, Marty?"

Marty looked at him. "You're not some creepy guy out to hurt me, are you?"

Callen scoffed slightly. Too young for thoughts like that… "I'm fifteen, kid."

"So? Is that supposed to make it okay?"

Callen frowned slightly. "I'm not going to hurt you. I just thought maybe you'd wanna talk."

Marty let his guard down a bit. "I'm eight."

Far too young for such hesitation, too… "Is someone hurting you? Is that why you're scared of me?"

Marty turned away from Callen, sitting back in the sand. Callen moved to sit beside him. "My dad hurts my mom a lot. And me sometimes. She tells me all the time that he loves us and that she loves him. I don't get it."

Callen sighed softly.

"Love shouldn't hurt, right?" Marty asked. "It never does on TV."

"No, love shouldn't hurt," Callen replied.

Marty shook his head sadly. "Why, then? Why does he do it?"

I wish I had a good answer… "Sometimes people are just mean."

Marty snorted. "Yeah."

"Do they take good care of you? Your parents?" he asked, but he felt he already knew the answer.

Marty shrugged slightly. "Dad doesn't want Mom to do some things, like wash my clothes and stuff. He hurts her when she does. But I have a hard time reaching the stuff. I figure if I don't do them, someone'll get Dad in trouble, right? Then they'll take me and my mom away?"

Callen sighed heavily, not wanting to answer the question but knowing he had to. "They'll take you away," he replied sadly. "Your mom'll probably still be there, though. And trust me, you don't want them to take you away. It doesn't get better."

Marty frowned as the news sank in. "So, what do I do?"


Callen sauntered into her office as she was doing paperwork. "You did this on purpose," he said.

"Did what?" Hetty replied, looking up.

"Deeks. You knew I'd figure it out."

She shrugged. "Mr. Callen, I simply picked someone I thought would be suitable to fill the gap on our team."

Callen chuckled. "You did more than that, and you know it."

"I was, perhaps aware of a history, but I figured it would not be an issue."

"Not for me. Maybe for him."

"You would have to talk to him, wouldn't you?"

Callen shrugged as he sat down. "I doubt he remembers. He was only eight at the time."

"You may be surprised."

"Maybe, maybe not." He glanced over to where Deeks was now teasing Kensi about something.

"You already are," Hetty observed.

Callen barely heard her, as his mind drifted off again…


"Callen?"

Callen looked over at him.

"What do I do?" Marty asked.

Callen sighed, thinking of the best answer he could give. "Try to protect yourself," he said. "Fight back, but don't get hurt worse. And don't start the fight."

Marty tilted his head. "I don't get it."

"Don't make him angry, but don't let him hurt you without at least having an escape plan. Do you have a safe place to go where he won't get you?"

Marty shrugged. "He never follows me here."

"Okay," Callen said. "So, when he's angry, run."

"What about my mom?" Marty asked fearfully.

"She'll be okay," Callen assured.

"He hurts her bad sometimes. What if he hurts her worse because I'm not there?"

"Marty, sometimes you have to take care of yourself. Trust your instincts, and make some good friends who'll help you out. One day, this will all be over, and it'll be nothing but a bad memory."

Marty looked over at Callen. "Was your dad mean?"

Callen shrugged. "Never met him. Had a lot of bad foster dads, though."

"Is that why you came out here? To get away from him?"

Callen shook his head. "I like the beach. Especially when it's quiet like this."

Marty nodded. "Me too."

Callen smiled slightly. "It'll be okay, Marty, some day. It'll all be over one day."


"You gonna ask me out already, or do you wanna keep staring?"

Callen rolled his eyes as memories faded. "You're a pain in the ass, Deeks."

Deeks smirked. "Yeah. Kinda happened after I met this kid on the beach when I was eight…"

That got both Sam and Kensi's attention.

Callen smiled slightly. "How long have you known?"

Deeks tilted his head side to side. "Since you introduced yourself. Figured you'd get there eventually. Easier for me anyway. You got older, but didn't change much."

"You were just a short kid with messy hair and clothes. Finally realized that only the height changed."

Deeks chuckled. "I don't know. I think the attitude might've changed a bit too."

Callen shook his head, smiling.

"How long have you two known each other?" Sam asked.

Deeks shrugged one shoulder. "Wouldn't say we know each other," he replied. "We only met once."

"On the beach out here," Callen added.

"In the summer. I hit him with my Frisbee."

Callen shrugged. "Figured I'd show him how to throw it."

Deeks laughed. "He was worse at it than I was."

Callen scoffed. "You wish."

Deeks shook his head, and for a second, Callen saw that eight-year-old kid again. He couldn't blame Deeks for the cover story, but he also realized that for the time being, it was best just to keep the lie in place. Until Deeks was comfortable enough to let the lie slip. But in the meantime…

"Why don't we go out back and I'll school you again at Frisbee?" Callen challenged.

Deeks laughed again. "Bring it on, old man."

"This I gotta see," Kensi said, as the three of them headed out back, with Sam and Eric in tow as Hetty just watched.

The End.