It was the fake smiles on their faces that got her.
It was the silence at night that made her rush to work every morning.
It was the way he wouldn't like at her, couldn't look at her, that made her sick.
It was the situation that had broke their relationship, a relationship for better or worse. Maybe their relationship wasn't ruined, but there was a crack, a fault line. She felt it and he felt it too. Their breakfast's were silent, their work was serious, and at nights, the house was cold and lonely.
They blamed themselves, even though everyone told them that they couldn't have done anything. She blamed herself because she was the mother, she should have known something was wrong with her baby, if she had been more aware, maybe the baby would have been okay. He blamed himself because he was suppose to protect her, maybe if he hadn't been so wrapped up in work, caused her so much stress, and would have slowed down for a bit, the baby would have been okay. The doctors said they couldn't have prevented it, their friends told them the situation was blameless, but that didn't end the blame game, the circle, the silence at nights.
He began to work more, come home less, spend more hours at the bar.
She began to talk less, avoid eye-contact, and spend more time then not alone.
Some nights, he tried to bring it up, but she always pulled away. It was her fault, wasn't it? Her burden to bear.
When his partner or even his boss brought it up, he avoided the subject, put on that fake smile as if everything was okay.
But it was definitely not okay.
…
It was five weeks and three days since the day they lost their baby, when he decided enough was enough, and headed into the baby's room, a box in his hand. Carefully, he began to load books into the box, toys and clothes soon followed, and he was almost halfway done when she found him.
"What are you doing." Her voice was disgusted, enraged, and when he turned to her, she seemed so small, so pale, that his stomach dipped. But she had showed him an emotion; even if it was anger, it was something he hadn't seen in almost six weeks. It was as if she disappeared with their baby that night, and he couldn't stop the small grin from stretching across his face.
"Cleaning," He replied, and her eyes darted away from his across the room.
"Why and why are you grinning?"
It was a simple question, and he paused before smiling at her. "It's time to move on, Nell."
He had expected some sort of reaction but he hadn't expected her to burst into tears. Dropping his box, he wrapped his arms around her and scooped her up in a bridal grip. Carrying her to their bedroom, he laid her on his lap and held her as she cried.
"I just, I wish it would have worked out." Nell bawled, and he ran his hand through her hair, his eyes moist as he watched her cry. She hadn't cried since their baby had been born dead. Not even in the hospital that night with the doctor and all the nurses with their white coats.
"Me too." His voice cracked as he moved his hand to wipe the tears coming down his face. "I wish that you didn't have to go through this pain. I wish our baby was here with us. "
Nell didn't answer, and together they cried, for hours at a time.
They had been married for almost two years, together for four when she had found out she was pregnant. He had been over-joyed, she had been ecstatic, and the team seemed to share their enthusiasm. Sam helped him put up the crib, Hetty brought over thousands of books in different languages, Deeks brought stuffed animals and painted, Kensi brought dolls (insisting that boys could play with dolls too) and Eric made a mobile that also was a baby monitor. They were all a little over excited. It was as if they were all having a child for a first time, even Sam who had three children of his own. It was a good time. And the nine months had passed with no problems. When she was six months pregnant, he had gotten called on a mission to Sudan. While she wasn't allowed to be read in, Sam drove her home every night, and Kensi slept over most nights. It was a good pregnancy, an easy pregnancy. There was no way they could have seen this coming.
The labor had been normal, and they were ready to meet their child. They had decided on Isabel Eleanor Callen or Jeremiah G Callen, and all that they needed was a baby. Many nights he had tried to get the sounds out of his head, those alarms that went off seconds after their child had been placed in Nell's arms, his heart beat and fear rising, but never did he think it had to do with the baby. He assumed Nell was having complications. But 3 minutes later, the doctor, a nice man who was balding and probably have 2.3 kids and grandchildren, told them their child had had a heart complication and had passed away. And it was if the night their child died, the team had all died a little bit too. It was as if Nell and he had died that night.
….
They visited the grave nine weeks and five days after the baby dies, the first time since the burial. The burial hadn't even been a funeral; there had been a priest, Nell and Callen. Sam hadn't even come, understanding that something's were needed to be handled alone. G held Nell's hand as they walked through the dark cemetery, only stopping once they reached the little grave. Nell's breath caught and Callen squeezed her hand as they read the marker.
Here lies Isabel Eleanor Callen, Perfect Child, Perfect Angel.
Daughter of G and Nell Callen – 2-2-2015
Romans 14:8
"It's beautiful, G. Did you come up with?" Nell asked, her face lit up by the moon light as she looked at him. He had chose the grave stone because she had refused to have any part of it at the time.
He nods once and she turns back, looking past the grave this time, and glancing at the surrounding area. "Oh my gosh, G. Look at all the flowers."
The surrounding five feet around the grave is covered, and he finds tears burn in his eyes. Nell's tears fell freely as she kneels down, reading the tags on the flowers that had them.
"Missing you baby girl – Deeks. I will always love you- Hetty. Keep us safe, angel – Kensi. G, there are some from the whole team."
His eyes burn as he kneels next to her, his arms wrapped around her and for the second time since they lost their baby, they cry together.
…
The case goes extremely wrong 13 weeks and two days after their baby dies, and G and Sam find themselves in a hostage situation. Their backs are against the wall, and all Nell can do is pray, Don't take my husband too. But then she watches as Kensi and Deeks are there, and in the end, everyone is coming home safe and sound. And when he finally comes through the door, no matter how burnt and smelly he is, she is already in his arms, her body shaking and making odd sniffling noises.
"Shhh shhh Nell. It's okay," He whispers as Sam flashes him a thumbs up sign and tactfully leaves the room, the locker room is destination.
"It's not okay. I can't lose you too, G."
Her words burn his throat and he freezes under their embrace. "Nell, I can't promise you that I won't die, I can't promise you that I will always be safe, but I can promise you, that I will never ever leave you. Does that make sense?"
Her shoulders shake and she rubs her face on his shirt before speaking again, her voice soft. "I just love you so much."
"And I love you even more."
…
It been 20 weeks and one day since their baby has died, and she sits in her bathroom, hands shaking, body cold.
"Nell, are you almost done? We are suppose to meet the team in half an hour."
She opens the door a crack, and he tries to push it open, but she stops him. Her force surprises him, and he lets go of the door, placing his hands on his hips. "Nell, what is going on."
She doesn't answer, instead she thrusts the stick at him, and he pauses. There is silence, a pause, and then the door is open and he is hugging her tightly, her feet off the ground.
"G!"
"Nell, are you serious!"
She pulls herself off him, placing her arms on his shoulders leaving him a arm's length. "I'm pregnant, G. We just lost our baby almost five months ago."
His enthusiastic flies over her worry as he grins, over-powering her and wrapping his arms around her again. "And we are getting a new chance!"
"I feel like an awful mother, what if people think I'm moving to fast, that I never loved my child. What if-"
"Nell, you can't care what other's think, you have to do what makes you happy."
And even though she feels like crying, , she lets his enthuasim fill her, and she finds herself grinning.
…
They tell the team 26 weeks after the baby died, Nell eight weeks pregnant. The reactions are timid, they are unsure of how to act, which G thinks is perfectly understandable. They are excited and happy, but worried, and don't want to upset them. So they smile and nod.
Nell worries constantly and has become a dictator with diets and exercise, her life entirely healthy. He worries about her, but now that she is pregnant she gets enough sleep, she tries to stay away from stress, and she is talking about taking an early maternity leave, trying to convince him she would worry about him too much, if he didn't take one too. She seems content and she makes him smile.
….
38 weeks after their baby died, they decided to move. She is almost 5 months pregnant, and they both agreed that the house has too many memories, too many sorrows. They look together after work, research their houses, and show pictures to the team, which may be their mistake. Deeks likes the house with the pool, Sam likes the one with the basement bar, Kensi likes the one with the gym near by, Eric likes the one with the game room, and Hetty seems unimpressed with them all. But in the end, a house is found, and moving day begins.
Sam brings his family, and Eric brings another new girlfriend, and they began to move. Moving with the team, as Callen learned many years ago, is a new experience every time, and Nell reminds him to keep his temper numerous times. (Especially after Deeks and Renko together drop a couch). But in the end, everything is set up. The old baby stuff has been Good-willed and a new crib is brought in. Sam and Renko help tackle the crib as Callen and Deeks work on the changer which Callen is sure is the most complicated piece of furniture in history. But right before he gets frustrated, he makes eye-contact with Nell. She looks beautiful at five months pregnant, and she grins at him, making him grin back, spell-bound.
…
57 weeks after their baby has died, 1 year and five weeks, they found themselves back at the hospital. This time, they fear how their lives will be when they leave the hospital in a few days. They are happy and excited like last time, but they are less naïve, more intelligent on what may occur.
The labor is harder then the last one, and G is unsure if that is a good sign or bad. He holds Nell's hand and she screams, and finally there is a push and a head.
They are both holding their breaths as the doctor, same as last time, lays the baby in Nell's arms, but she seems unwilling to hold the baby.
"Are you sure, that he is okay? That he is breathing okay?" She asks, and the doctor nods, his smile white and happy.
"Your baby is perfectly happy, Mrs. Callen."
And her face is so beautiful, her grin so real, that he slids in next to her, her focus on their baby. Then she turns to him, a grin on her face. "Can we name him, Gabriel? I know you had your heart on Jeremiah, but Gabriel, well he is the bringer of good news, he brought the news to Mary of her pregnancy with Jesus. And this baby, this baby is our good news."
He can hardly argue with her and as the team begins to file in, finally able to see a baby that it seems like they have been waiting two years for, he tells them his name is Gabriel. They all began to coo over the baby, his strong and bad-ass team becoming softies with one little baby, even Sam Hanna. He smiles, as he makes eye-contact with Nell. This baby was their good news. The happy ending that they deserved.
