A/N: I know I'm kind of late to the party. I sat down almost immediately after the finale and wrote part of this, then set it aside. Came back much later, wrote more, and then abandoned it. Rediscovered it and, well, here it is. (And, please raise your hand, if you need therapy after that finale!)


There's something broken. Callen knows it and he's trying to fix it and Sam wishes he would just go away. It can't be fixed.

Because eight hundred fifty-five seconds is a long time.

An eternity if frosted glass and zipties separate you.

And screams that he still hears, waking or sleeping, all day, every day.

Callen always tries to talk about it. He always starts like this: "Sam, you've gotta-"

And Sam always cuts him off, "Do you know how long a man can withstand tortue, G? Because I do. Eight hundred fifty-five seconds."

He's trying to be angry. Sam can see it, in the ways his eyes burn, in the lines around his mouth and his eyes. He's known him too long. He opens his mouth to reply and Sam cuts him off.

"Don't, G, I'm too tired."

G doesn't give up easy—and Sam wouldn't either, if their places were reversed, but they aren't and here they both are—and he starts to walk away. He stops and turns sharply back towards Sam.

The anger's gone. He's sad and he's scared. The urge to protect Callen from whatever put that look on his face flares up from habit before he remembers.

It's him.

And he can't be fixed, not when Deeks'—

"Talk to me, Sam," Callen's voice breaks, "Please."

There's nothing to say.

He had eight hundred fifty-five seconds that were not silent.

Now silence is all he has.

-END-