My second NCIS: Los Angeles fic and first Nallen fic as well! Spoilers for the finale, "Sans Voir"
Re uploaded due to a mistake with Granger's name!
Disclaimer: I own nothing.
The Fall From Grace
I had never seen anything like it before, always cooped up in the safety of the OPS office I never really saw a lot of action. Maybe an explosion or two, sometimes even a fist fight but never anything like this. But there it was, right in front of me and real as ever.
G Callen, a gun in his shaking hand firing shots into the man that had already taken so much from us. His body convulsed violently with each round that tore through him. After the gunfire ceased and he finally collapsed back into the van I let out the breath I was holding, only to cringe when Callen raised his gun one more time and fired a single shot right to the Chameleon's head. Then nobody spoke, nobody moved, it was like time had stopped.
The room was still quiet a few minutes later, nobody was sure what to say or if they even should. I saw Granger shake his head and stand up, obviously in utter confusion and shock. Eric was still looking at the screen, his body still beside me and I wasn't sure if he was even breathing.
Finally I dared to turn and look at Hetty, the tiny woman standing beside me with tears welling in her eyes. She didn't even look at me before she left the room with Granger on her heels and it was then that I realized I was sobbing.
They shook my whole body as I wrapped my arms around myself and stared at the screen in front of me. I didn't even know what to think anymore as suddenly every happy memory that had ever been associated with Callen seemed to dissolve from my mind and I was left staring at him through a screen. His blue eyes looked around desperately as rough hands led him towards the waiting car in the middle of the red and blue sea of sirens and lights.
Fingers were pointed and mouths agape as he walked through the crowd, like he was in a trance.
He was pushed inside and finally a look of defeat crossed over his tired features. He rested his head against the seat and stared straight ahead. The screen faded black and Eric came to stand beside me. I felt his hand on my arm, a gesture meant to comfort yet I found myself yanking my arm away and glaring at him before realization and guilt took over.
"I'm sorry," I said in a strained whisper, wiping at my eyes in an attempt to get rid of my tears. Eric just looked at me in pity before nodding and leaving the room.
I collapsed into my chair and dropped my head in my hands, unsure of what to do next. I wanted to scream, maybe cry some more or just throw something.
I was angry. Angry at Callen, angry at Granger and the Chameleon and most of all I was angry at myself. I should have seen this coming, I should have tried to help him. I thought back about two months ago, when I had offered him a ride home because his car was in the shop. He told me about a little diner on the beach he went to sometimes after work and asked me if I was hungry.
It was late and we were the only two in there, laughing loudly and listening to the ocean roll behind us. I had my fingers wrapped around a steaming cup if coffee as I listened to Callen tell me a story about a mission he and Sam had went on years ago. It was the most I had ever heard him talk and I loved listening to his voice.
I was intrigued by him, the way his eyes lit up when he laughed, the way he talked with hands. I took in every detail of him that night and I never forgot any of them.
Two weeks later on a Saturday night I heard someone pounding on my door. Putting my book down I lifted myself from the couch and warily opened it, peering out of the crack. Callen was standing on the other side, soaked to the bone as a storm raged outside. There was something in his eyes that kept me from asking him what was wrong, like a normal person would. He looked haunted and exhausted, dark circles marking the skin under his eyes and his shoulders slumped. I opened the door a little wider and he silently came inside.
He sat down on the couch and dropped his head in his hands. I had walked to the closet to get him a towel but when I came back I nearly dropped it.
He was rocking back and forth, sobbing into his hands and muttering to himself, a sight I never thought I would see. I stood there in shock and watched as every sob racked his body, the sound of his strangled gasps enough to finally make me move.
I gently sat down beside him and his body tensed but he didn't stop crying. It suddenly hit me what was wrong with him as I remembered the case we had closed the day before. The only thing I could think of that could break him like this. A kidnapped little girl that we had been too late to save. Callen had come back to OPS with blood staining the front of his grey T-shirt, staining his hands a sickly red and I knew she hadn't made it. His gaze caught mine for a moment before he looked away and disappeared into the gym. The whole team had taken a hit and Hetty had sent them home early along with Eric and I.
I contemplated calling Callen but I knew he wouldn't answer, and if he did he would give me a big spiel about how he was fine and he could look after himself.
This was the first time I had seen him since then and he looked horrible. It had hit me that he probably didn't have anywhere to go tonight and Sam was probably with his kids, leaving Callen the option of sleeping at OPS or another cheap motel.
'I'm fine' my ass.
I scooted closer to him and wrapped my arm around him and was surprised when he leaned closer to me. His scent evaded my senses, aftershave and coffee floating around me like a cloud.
He was shaking and it was then that I remembered he was still soaked. I handed the towel to him with a sheepish smile and excused myself into the kitchen. When I came back out with a cup of tea a few minutes later Callen was already asleep, curled up on my tiny sofa and snoring lightly. I knew he didn't sleep much so I decided not to wake him. Instead I grabbed the duvet off the back of the couch and draped it over his body.
Turning off the lights I walked slowly to my own bedroom and curled up, hugging my knees to my chest. I was restless the rest of the night, mostly because I knew there was a man on my couch. The next morning I woke up and immediately walked to the living room, the young girl in me excited to see Callen and make sure he was alright.
The couch was empty. Callen's shoes were no longer sitting by the door like they had been the night before and the apartment was dead quiet. He was gone. I tried to fight off the sense of disappointment that was building inside of me because if we were being honest I wasn't surprised, not in the least bit. That was Callen's thing, never let anyone in.
I sighed and walked to the kitchen, a yellow piece of paper stuck to the refrigerator catching my eye. I felt myself smile ear to ear as I read the note written in Callen's messy scrawl.
Thank you
-Callen
That's how things always were between us, my comfort in exchange for his presence, his voice, him. He slept at my house at least once a week after that. Sometimes he slept in my bed, both of us fully dressed and on our own sides. There was never sex involved, but it never ended up being something I wanted from him. I was happy with his company and I guess I relished the fact that he had chosen me to let help him. Not Kensi, not Sam or even Hetty, but me.
Then one night things had changed and I felt his body press against mine and his breath tickled the back of my neck in the middle of my night. I felt my breath catch in my throat and chills run down my spine. But I didn't pull away, I didn't tell him to stop because I wanted it so bad. Instead I scooted closer, burrowing into his warmth as a strong arm wrapped around me protectively.
Soon he was always there, we rode to work together, he took me to dinner. My favorite thing was the movie night we had every Wednesday. Junk food and beer would litter my coffee table and we would sit on the couch, my feet in his lap as he leaned against the arm rest, watching all kinds of movies and doing our best impersonations of the characters. Callen's favorite was always Scarface.
I always fell asleep and the next day I would wake up in my bed with Callen's legs spooning against mine, a perfect fit.
But that was over now, I had lost him forever. There was no way he could get out of this one and everyone knew it. The devastation in Hetty's eyes made that perfectly clear and maybe that's why I felt strangely calm now. There was no worry left in me, because I knew nothing I did would bring him back to me.
Standing up I grabbed my bag from under my desk and slung it over my shoulder. When I walked down the steps I saw the rest of the team at their desks, an unnerving silence surrounding them.
I wanted so badly to say something but I couldn't seem to find my voice. Instead I walked over and kissed Sam's cheek, then Deeks before leaning in and giving Kensi a hug. I felt her fingers wrap around my wrist as I pulled back and I looked down at her in confusion. She mouthed two words, two simple words that suddenly reminded me how alone I was.
I'm sorry.
I shook my head at her, a lump building up in my throat. I swallowed roughly and gave her my best attempt at a smile.
"It's ok." I told her quietly before she finally dissolved into tears of her own. Deeks, sensing his partners distress stood up and walked to her, wrapping her in his arms and holding her gently.
I watched them with a mix of envy and admiration. I wanted that and now I knew I couldn't have it because no one would replace Callen and even if I waited for the rest of my life it wouldn't be long enough. Sam just smirked at them before standing up and walking upstairs, probably to beat on his punching bag if I had to guess.
Finally I made myself leave, knowing I had nowhere else to go and I couldn't stay in the office any longer. The drive was strange, partly because I still felt numb and partly because I was scared to go back into the place I had been sharing with Callen.
I sat in my car for what felt like a lifetime before I got out and walked up the stairs. When I unlocked the door I noticed how bad my hands were shaking and I balled them into fists as if it would help.
Throwing my stuff in a heap at the door I went straight to the bedroom. I stripped off my blouse and skirt, picking up one of Callen's T-shirts and slipping it over my head. I crawled onto the bed and pulled the white linen sheet over my body.
Pulling Callen's pillow towards me I held onto it like a life line, breathing in his scent over and over again. I noticed the moisture falling onto the fabric of the pillow case and found myself crying again.
It seemed so unfair, I had done everything right and still I wasn't happy. I put up with his changing moods, his insomnia and his constant desires to be alone and still I couldn't call him mine.
Finally, with the rain falling outside just like it did on that first night I slipped into a fitful sleep, still holding Callen's pillow against my chest as I dreamed of him and everything we would never have.
