Author's Notes: Set sometime after "Little Angels", Episode 2x5. There are references to that episode.
I own very little and absolutely nothing related to NCIS:LA.
"In our line of work, we're all haunted by nightmares. Stay close to your partner."
-Hetty, "Little Angels"
Kensi looked around the warehouse in despair. Thousands of square feet. Multiple floors and rooms. Boxes and containers and crates and coolers. It could take hours to search it. Hours of patience Callen didn't have. If Sam was even here. He could be at the bottom of the ocean for all they knew.
"Get him in here," ordered Callen.
Deeks shoved the arms dealer in the door ahead of him.
"I suggest you start talking, man," encouraged the blonde detective.
"I'm not saying anything. Find him yourself," spat Davis.
Sam had been missing for hours. They'd lost contact when his comms went down. His GPS has soon followed. It had taken most of the day to track the weapons dealers. The deal was done, the guns long gone, but Sam was still no where to be found. And Davis, the last bad guy standing, wasn't being very helpful.
"You tell me where my agent is," murmured Callen, low and hard, "or you won't live to see the inside of a cell."
"Jail?" laughed Davis. "For what? I don't believe you caught me in the act of anything illegal. And your cop friend won't be alive long enough to say differently." Kensi continued to scan the warehouse, making sure no one else joined the party. Part caution, part distraction. Callen was ready to explode and she didn't particularly want to watch.
"You said he was here. You said you left him here," broke in Deeks, good cop all the way. "Just tell me where and I'll see what kind of deal I can get you."
"I don't need a deal! You've got nothing!"
With speed born of fury, Callen had the man pinned against the wall.
"I'm not a cop. I'm a federal agent. I'm not sending you to prison, I'll send you to Guantanamo Bay where you will cease to exist. And that," snarled Callen, "is if I let you live. Now. Tell me where my partner is!"
Kensi didn't think he'd actually kill Davis, but Callen was damn scary. And the scary seemed to be winning.
"I don't know exactly..." Davis broke off as Callen pushed harder. "But, but the boys said they put him somewhere to cool off. I figured they meant one of the freezers."
"Where?" hissed Callen.
"Ground floor. That way." Callen turned, running for the back of the building.
"I got this piece of trash," said Deeks, looking at Kensi. "Go." Kensi nodded and took off after Callen. Kensi nearly ran into his back as she rounded a corner where Callen had stopped.
"Oh my God," she breathed quietly.
In rows, standing and stacked, were hundreds of different coolers, freezers and refrigeration units. Old and out-dated, from every type of home and business.
"Okay, none of these are working, right?" said Kensi. "I mean, there is no power running to any of this, so they're not on. So he's not freezing to death."
"If they put him in one with a good seal?" answered Callen, his voice oddly calm. "He probably suffocated hours ago." Kensi whirled to face Callen; her stomach felt like it had dropped to her feet.
The ardent federal agent who threatened whoever got in the way was gone. In his place was an orphan who was already processing the death of his best friend, locking it away with everything else he had already lost.
"No." Kensi shook her head, holstering her weapon. "No, you don't know that! And you don't do that...just...don't." Callen's eyes roamed the room, looking lost. Kensi walked down one of the rows.
"Sam!" She paused to listen. She walked further and yelled again. "Sam! If you can hear me, let me know where you are!" Kensi kept walking, calling out and listening. She was relieved when she heard Callen a few rows over, doing the same. "Sam!" As the echo of her voice died, she heard a thud. "Sam? Was that you?" Kensi walked until she found a chest freezer. A chest freezer with a padlock. The lock didn't give when she yanked on it, but the lid lifted about a half inch when she tried it. "Sam?"
"Get me out." Kensi fought back the moisture that filled her eyes.
"Oh, Sam, thank God," she muttered, trying to lift the lid higher. "Give us a freaking heart attack."
"Out. Get me out," responded Sam, his voice hollow. Kensi startled as the lid jumped in her hands. "Get me out!" The lid slammed again as Kensi realized that Sam was hitting the lid.
"Whoa, easy Sam! We'll get you, hang on!" Her words only seemed to make it worse. The heavy freezer rocked slightly and the lid smashed up and down with the force of the man fighting inside it. "Callen! Callen, I found him!" Kensi reached into her pocket and pulled out her lock pick set.
"Sam!" called Callen as he ran up.
"I think he's panicking," said Kensi softly, dropping to her knees and lifting the lock. "Damn." The key was broken off in the lock. The lid banged again and again. She raised her dark eyes to Callen. The agent in him was back. And he looked pissed.
"Bosnia," responded Callen coldly. "Talk to him." Callen turned, looking for another way to open the chest. Bosnia. Sam buried alive in a shallow mass grave. Kensi pressed her hands to the freezer, trying not to think about Sam and small spaces and lying next to your partner while he died.
"Sam. Sam, stop! It's Kensi! And Callen and Deeks! We're here! We're going to get you out, I promise," cried Kensi. The box rocked against her palms. She closed her eyes and pressed harder, like she could absorb some of the fear from her friend. "Sam, please! You're going to hurt yourself. Stop!"
"Kensi, move." She looked up and fell back as Callen attacked the hinges of the latch with a crowbar.
"Sam!" shouted Callen between swings. "I am getting you out of there." Callen swung away at the latch holding the freezer shut, panting with the effort, but he never stopped. Never slowed. When the lock and latch finally fell away, Callen dropped the crowbar and flung open the lid.
Sam exploded up from the bottom of the freezer and tumbled over the side to the floor. Kensi scrambled to help him, but he pulled away from her touch like it pained him. He staggered to his feet and stumbled away from them.
"Sam!" she called, but Callen held up a hand.
"Give him a minute."
Sam did nothing but breathe for a few moments, gasping lungfuls of air. His hands, his arms were hamburger, raw and bleeding. Kensi saw that the inside of the chest freezer was a mess of dents, scratches and blood. Sam had fought hard.
"Do we need an ambulance?" whispered Kensi.
"No. I've got him."
"Callen..."
"Kensi, thank you." Callen wasn't inviting a discussion. "I've got him. Go check on Deeks." Kensi nodded and stood, walking down the row and back towards the front of the building. She looked back for a moment.
Callen was standing just in front of Sam, speaking quietly. Sam was still swaying and unsteady, but he was listening. Callen reached out and put his hands on Sam's shoulders. The big man visibly relaxed and Callen's voice was still just a murmur. Kensi rounded the corner.
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"Did you get him? He okay?" asked Deeks as she approached.
"Yeah. And I think so. Or at least he will be." Deeks cocked his head slightly, puzzled.
Kensi took a deep breath before speaking.
"You don't know this, got it? I barely know this and I would never admit to it. Sam got into some trouble in Bosnia on a SEAL mission. They buried him and his partner alive in a box in a mass grave."
"Whoa," breathed Deeks.
"Yeah. His partner died. Right next to him. And this worthless excuse for a human and his buddies," she said, motioning to Davis, "locked him a chest freezer."
Deeks didn't say anything, just looked at the handcuffed man at his feet with sudden venom. "So he's out of the box," continued Kensi, "...I think Callen is just trying to convince him of it."
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When Sam opening his eyes, nothing changed. The darkness was complete. He reached out, feeling the smooth sides of whatever he was in. A box.
"No." It was a small whisper that filled the tiny space.
Sam reached up, pushing at the lid. It lifted less than an inch, but it kept him from losing it right then and there.
Light, not dirt.
"The best thing I can do for you is die fast."
Brian's not here.
He wouldn't suffocate.
His team would find him and he'd get out of this.
He pushed and kicked at the lid. Held it open as long as he could, burning with the effort.
Hours, minutes, days. It was just black broken by periodically lifting the lid for air and to remind himself that the world was more than darkness.
His friends were coming.
Brian's not here.
The strip of light didn't change. Was it really the same day? Pull it together, if it was the same day, it hadn't been that long.
Give them time.
G is coming.
The latch still wouldn't give.
sam
He jerked in surprise. He'd nearly dozed off.
Stupid.
That's how you end up dead.
He pushed up on the lid, listening.
"Sam!"
Don't be a dream.
He called out, kicking up at the lid.
"Sam? Was that you?" Kensi's eyes appeared in the narrow gap of light. "Sam?"
The tones of her voice were swallowed by the sudden buzzing in his ears.
"Get me out." His words bounced around him.
Too small.
Dark.
"Out. Get me out." The panic he's fought for hours surged like a wave, smothering him, stealing the air and sound. "Get me out!"
Sam kicked and punched and rolled and clawed.
He would not die here.
When the lid lifted, he flew into the searing light, only to fall abruptly to the ground. Someone touched him and he recoiled. It hurt, everything hurt.
Air, so much air. It was cold. But the light burned. He stood up, trying to get away, but it was everywhere. He heard his name. His team. He wanted to collect himself, but the world swayed and roiled and blared.
Someone was standing in front of him, speaking softly. It was tones and pitch and finally it became words.
"...okay...Los Angeles and...here. Just you and me, big guy. Nobody else around. Plenty of space, plenty of room. You're okay."
Not Bosnia.
No Brian.
"That's right." He must have spoken out loud. "Good ol' LA. Smog and tacos and traffic and beaches."
He knew that voice. Trusted it.
Sam lifted his eyes from the floor.
"G." His partner. Sam felt the warm, steady weight of Callen's hands on his shoulders.
"Yeah, Sam. It's me." Sam felt his knotted muscles relax, as if on cue, and he took a breath that finally didn't hurt. A look of relief flew across Callen's face. "Just you and me."
"I'm a mess," huffed Sam, after a long pause.
"Nothing we can't fix," reassured Callen, moving his palms down Sam's arms, stopping just before his hands. Sam stared at his bleeding knuckles, split nails. He didn't remember doing that.
"No," protested Sam, pulling his arms away. "I mean...," he gestured to his head, "I lost it. I lost it in there."
"Stop," admonished Callen. "You lasted nearly a day. So what if you freaked for a minute?" He stepped in close, locking eyes with Sam. "You get to be human. I'll allow it, okay?" he said, with the barest hint of a smirk, but his words were purposeful. "Nothing we can't fix."
Sam chose to believe him.