Someone was trying to drill a hole through his head and run him over with a truck or five. What the hell had happened to him this time? He hated the feeling of regaining consciousness. Keeping his head still, Callen wracked his mind for some memory of how he came to be this way.

Nothing.

He frowned slightly to himself. Not even flashes of memories.

Not completely unusual in his line of work he supposed. The main question to as 'is he safe?'

Callen was used to relying on senses other than his sight. Seeing something yourself usually means someone saw you looking. Not ideal in a possible hostage situation which, he listened to his surroundings carefully, he didn't think he was in for a change. Also, hostage takers really liked to use blindfolds. Sight really could be the most useless of senses. He couldn't sense any bodies nearby either, which was good and bad. Good because no one was guarding or holding him. Bad because it meant his partner and team weren't there. Of course, they could be elsewhere…hopefully not unconscious, or dead.

He tried not to think of the latter. He rather liked this oddball team of his.

He decided that he was safe, at least for the time being, Callen tried to open his eyes. Aaand immediately regretted it. Pain shot sharply behind his eyes in protest. Groaning, he stopped all movement of his eyeballs, even roving them slightly hurt horribly.

It took a few achingly long minutes for the pain to subside enough that it wasn't a distraction. He tried again and he partially succeeded. His eyes filled with a myriad of browns and greens before shutting again. Progress. At least his sight hadn't gone like what happened in Libya…

He gave himself yet another few minutes before trying again. This time he succeeded. Thankfully the ambient light was dim. Callen did hate how glaring light could be when you first regained consciousness. You may as well be blind.

The first thing he noticed was leaves. Lots of them. Great. He forced himself to sit up, leaves slipping off his body. He shivered. Tentatively Callen twisted his torso to check for any injuries, no aches or pains except for the one thumping in his head. Had he been drugged? He didn't feel overly sluggish and his thoughts weren't slow. If it wasn't for the lack of memory, he would have thought that he had simply been knocked over the head. On that thought, he felt around the back of his head and winced. It was tender back there but that might have been because he fell, not due to a deliberately injury.

Shaking his head, and immediately regretting it, he started to pat himself down to check what he had that could be used as a weapon. Being defenceless had never worked in his favour and he couldn't rely on his physical strength at the moment. No gun, which he really didn't expect. Only absolute idiots or cocky weirdos left you with a gun.

What was bothering Callen more than he cared to admit was that he had no memories flooding back to him. Not even fragments. Nothing leading to him being unconscious, nothing from earlier in the mission what he hoped was the same day as today. He frowned. He couldn't even remember what case he had been working on. Was there even a case?

Suppressing the panic he felt bubbling up inside of him, Callen looked purposely around him. Nothing really stood out. It was a fairly dense forest with nondescript trees, Kensi could probably be able to tell him exactly what they were. There were no bodies on the ground, so no firefight happened here? Did one happen elsewhere? His brows furrowed further, wishing he had something to go on.

Making a judgement that it was safe, Callen brought himself slowly to his feet. Closing his eyes, he rode out the wave of dizziness he braced himself on a handy nearby tree. The rough bark stung his hands. Looking at him them he saw that they were rubbed raw, even skinned in some places. Were they a result of whatever put him here or from something else? Had he even injured his hands at any point before this, this incident? The sinking feeling in his stomach was getting worse.

He couldn't remember. Callen very rarely lost his memory of horrible things that happened to him. Actually, he had the opposite problem, he remembered everything in glaring detail. His face twisted into a self-deprecating grimace. He had always been like that.

Keeping a sharp eye on his surroundings, Callen tried to think back to beyond today (whatever day today even was). The last thing he could remember was having drinks with his team after a case involving a case involving literal ninjas. But he felt that something had happened after that. He squinted across the forest floor. Wait, what was that over there?