Callen heard the sound as soon as he entered the building, and knew what Sam was up to. He stopped there, debating his next move; cross the threshold into the room Sam was working out in and disturb him, or turn around and leave, knowing Sam would stay in his own head until someone or something interrupted him. Just at that moment, the rhythmic sound of Sam's boxing gloves hitting the punching bag stopped, making Callen's mind up for him. Sighing, he put on a big smile and strode into the workout room.
"Hey partner! How's the workout going?" Callen knew he sounded fake, but he had to at least try to cheer his partner up. Still, he had to force himself to look Sam in the eye as the bigger man turned at the sound of Callen's voice, a scowl on his face.
"How's the workout going? Really, G? Is that all you got?" Sam looked near to exploding, and Callen couldn't blame him. He couldn't imagine the adjustment Sam had been forced to make, but he did know his partner, and he knew that having to relearn the world from a seated position was eating Sam alive. Sam took off his boxing gloves and put them in his lap, moving toward the corner where he'd left his gym bag. Putting the gloves in the bag, he slung it over the handles of his wheelchair and turned to go. To his frustration, Callen blocked his way, and Sam knew he wasn't yet good enough at maneuvering his chair to circumvent the barrier that Callen presented. "Fine," he said, scowling, "you wanna talk, then start talking."