Chapter Three

A week had passed since the day at the cemetery and the team had solved two cases within that time period and had handed one off to the FBI after doing most of the leg work. The team had been going non-stop and Callen made the decision to give his team the next day off, which surprised Hetty.

"Are you certain, Mister Callen?" Hetty questioned him as she regarded him over the cup of tea that she cradled in both hands.

"I am." He replied as he took a last sip of the expensive imported tea, savoring the flavors over his tongue.

Hetty nodded and pursed her lips in consideration before she asked cheekily as she tapped her fingers together, "As Operations Manager, what am I to do if there is a case that needs urgent attention?"

He placed the fragile tea cup unto the just as fragile saucer on the edge of the large desk that separated the two. He snorted as he sat back into the chair across from Hetty. He answered, his eyebrow arched rebelliously, "I don't care. I'm certain that you'll figure something out seeing as you're the Operations Manager. My team isn't the only team in the Office."

"However, correct you are, Mister Callen, your team is the best, the first responders, the primary team." She replied, her brow furrowed at the clear rebellion and lack of caring from her Senior Agent in Charge. His behavior worried her. He had not been the same since Renko and Hunter's deaths and then the Janvier set up had happened. Honestly, she had not been the same either, but she had learned long ago to separate her personal and professional lives and views. However, there were lapses in that control, such as when she had tried to resign when young Dominic had been killed as well as the Comescu Operation, and in the morgue over her fostered daughter, Special Agent Lauren Hunter. Hetty sighed, "Mister Callen, I cannot allow this to go on."

"Come on," He retorted frustratingly so at her challenge of his authority. Some days he felt as if his rank mattered not, most days it didn't matter to him, because he saw himself as gear on the well oiled machine, but it frustrated him when he and Hetty or he and Granger butted heads. He missed Vance, truly he did. He hardly ever had a disagreement with the man, the only major one had been the Comescu Operation, but Callen believed that Vance had only made an issue out of it to save face with the Bureaucrats. Vance had once said that he was Bureaucrat, but deep down he was still an Agent, had the Agent mentality. "It's one freaking day," Called exclaimed as he raised from the carefree pose in the chair to sit on the edge of it. He motioned to the bullpen with a side nod, "Look at them."

Hetty glanced at bullpen; Kensi was falling asleep doing her paperwork, jerking awake every few seconds whereas Deeks had already fallen asleep, the side of his face flat on the desk. Sam had an elbow on his desk, the side of his face resting in his palm as he typed on his with one hand on his red laptop computer. Hetty looked away from them back to Callen and she pursed her lips at the smug, all knowing smirk that crossed his lips. "See," He stated, "Even Sam, Super Seal, needs a break. As their leader, I cannot continue to allow them to work on empty." He paused, his blue eyes hardened. "As their friend, I have to give them time to grieve."

Hetty blanched for a second before she regained control of her feelings. However, Callen recognized her millisecond lack of control. He sighed, "I know that you were close to Hunter, that you loved her, and I don't intend this to be in callous or disrespectful to her memory, or the love you have for her, but my team was closer to Mike, Mike was our family, we loved Mike. Hunter was an interloper to most of us and in the end a friend. My family needs time to start to heal from the loss of him. Twenty-four hours will by no means be enough time, but it is a start. Kensi's still in shock. Deeks is confused and feels guilty, because he didn't know Mike as well as the rest of us, but he still mourns the loss of a friend, a colleague, of what could have been. Sam is holding it together for the sake of the team. Eric has broken every one of his high scores four times on every game he owns. Nell...well, Nell isn't handling it well, at all...and if I were honest," He inhaled a deep breath and exhaled it as he admitted. "I'm not either." His eyes bore into hers as he declared, "I want Nate brought back...in a professional capacity...I," He cleared his throat. "Get him transferred back, do what you need to...bribe...threaten...extort...hell, I don't care, how, just get him back."

Hetty swallowed and looked away guiltily at every mention of Mike's name. She visibly flinched when she heard that he wanted Nate back as an Operational Psychologist. That want, that need proved to her how much he had been affected, how much he knew his team had been. Callen felt no remorse for how he made Hetty visibly uncomfortable. He adored Hetty, loved her, and would die for her, but there were some things worth going against her. She cleared her throat, "I'm sorry, Mister Callen." She inhaled deeply and exhaled. "I have something that I must tell you..."

Before Hetty could elaborate, confess if you will, Owen Granger's voice interrupted them, "Henrietta. Agent Callen."

Callen stood, nodded, and quickly excused himself as he was not in the mood to verbally spar with Granger, nor would he continue to discuss his decision to give his team time off. The past three weeks, since the day Mike had died, the team had had one day off, the day he and Nell had inadvertently met in the cemetery, and they all had been called in late that night. As he walked away, he heard Hetty berate the Assistant Director. "Owen, I cannot continue to allow..."

Callen shook his head as he walked to the bullpen and out of hearing range of Hetty's Office. Once there he sat at his desk and after watching Kensi jerk awake three times, he said, "Kensi..." He paused waiting for her to answer him, but she hadn't heard him. He glanced at Deeks who was drooling on the form he had been filling out. When Callen glanced at Sam they shared a look. Sam rolled his eyes and wadded a piece of paper up and tossed it to Callen who caught it then threw it at Deeks.

The wad of paper hit the Detective squarely on the head effectively waking him. He jerked awake and looked around and his gaze landed on Kensi. "Ay! Kensi!" Deeks exclaimed, assuming incorrectly that it had been Kensi whom had thrown the wad of paper at him and was now pretending to be asleep.

"Wha-What?" Kensi said jerking awake, the wad of paper hitting her squarely on the forehead. Callen would have smiled at the cross-eyed expression on her face as she watched the wad of paper fall unto her desk, but that expression only proved even more so that the team needed time off. They were entering dangerous territory when their reflexes and instincts were no longer working. Sniper trained Kensi couldn't even focused on a wad of paper without going cross-eyed.

He, Callen, was used to it. He could function on less than an hour of sleep for days, but even he was starting to buckle under the stress and grief. He hid it well around the others. He knew that Sam knew that he wasn't fine, but so far his partner hadn't pushed the issue. Eric had given him several looks and had a couple times had tried to say something, but the younger man would back off, lose courage before he said what they all thought. However, Nell...Nell was someone that Callen did not want to think about, because he was most vulnerable around her, when he thought about her or Mike, it became much more difficult for him to masquerade what was going on within him.

G. Callen was slowly losing it. His demand for Nate to come back was purely selfish. Although, it would be beneficial to the entire team, to the entire office for their Operational Psychologist to return to be around daily instead of the quarterly psych evaluations, he wanted his friend back. He wanted Nate back, because having Nate around, Callen hoped would help him, remind him of the days when it had been he, Sam, Kensi, Nate, and Mike.

Before he had been shot five times in May 2009.

Before Macy had left.

Before Hetty had returned.

Before Mike had transferred to solo Operations.

Before he, Callen, had returned from medical leave.

Before Dom.

Before Deeks.

Before Nell.

Before Janvier.

He had lost entirely too much, because of the sake of national security. He had lost his mother and his sister before he had known them. He had lost too many acquaintances and friends throughout the years since he had joined the Navy at age eighteen. Losing Mike, a man he had for years considered his little brother was unbearable. It hadn't hurt this much when they had lost Dom or Macy, or even when he found out that he had a sister whom died, or that Hetty had known his mother.

Watching Nell, a young woman barely out of college lose the man she loved was entirely too much added to his own demons. How old was she? Twenty-one? Twenty-two? Twenty-three? Twenty-five? Callen wasn't sure, but he was certain that she was too young to know the feeling of heart crushing grief. She should be planning on her wedding not trying to figure out how to live without the love of her life.

He needed peace. He needed closure. He needed a new beginning. And, that need for a new beginning was precisely why he needed Nate, because if he, Callen, were to choose to disappear, no one would ever find him. His reputation as a ghost was not hype nor was it myth; it was fact. Not even the great Henrietta Lange would find him, or the spectacularly skilled Eric Beale, or the super genius Nell Jones, or even Super Seal, Best Friend Sam Hanna.

Callen was brought out of his thoughts when he heard Kensi whine, legitimately whine like a school girl.

"Deeks," Kensi whined as she placed her forehead on her desk with a loud thud. She pleaded, the sound of her voice muffled. "Leave me alone. Please."

"Sugar Bear," He drawled, then yawned as he stretched. "You don't look so good."

"You don't eith..." She trailed off into a loud snore.

"Kensi." Callen stated loudly to get her attention.

She jerked awake, but did not raise her head. Her tone was indignant and threatening, "Callen, I swear with all that is Holy that I will tell Hetty who gave Deeks access to that Segway that disappeared...and how Eric..."

She fell back asleep.

Callen shook his head as he shared a look with Sam then Deeks.

"Kens," Callen said softer as he rubbed his hand across her upper back waking her up, "Go home." He paused, looked at Deeks and before he could tell him to take her home Deeks understood. The Detective stood and stretched as he yawned one last time. He was alert, but tired.

However, Deeks being his lovely self, confirmed his understanding to Callen's silent request by needling Kensi as he walked over to her desk, "Sugar Bear, honey bun, let your delicious Deeks, marvelous Marty, take care of you."

"Okay, my delicious..." Kensi murmured, but fell back to sleep, proving to them all, how out of it she truly was.

Sam snorted and Callen shook his head. Callen warned Deeks as he motioned his hand toward Kensi, "This isn't fodder for future torment, you got it?"

"Yes, sir," Deeks replied in mock salute, before tapping Kensi on the shoulder.

Callen added, "You go home, too, Deeks. I'm giving the team the rest of the day off, tomorrow, too."

"Really?" Deeks asked surprised, but quickly thanked him, before he could change his mind, as if he were. "Thank you, G." Callen smiled, it being one of the rare times that Deeks had called him G. "Hey," He bent down and whispered loudly in Kensi's ear, "Sugar Daddy Callen says it's time to go home."

"Hmm..." Kensi replied as she allowed Deeks to pull her from her sitting position. Deeks wrapped his arm around her and gripped her waist with his hand so that she wouldn't fall over. With his other hand, he grabbed the strap of her over sized bag and put it over his shoulder. She stated wistfully as she leaned into Deeks, her head resting against his shoulder. "I like Sugar Daddies," She admitted. "Can we stop and get one on the way home, baby?" She paused and sighed, "Ooh, Sugar Babies...I want some."

Sam lost it and began to laugh. Callen pressed his lips together, he had to admit that Kensi's behavior was off the wall and mildly entertaining over her love for the carmel covered carmel candy suckers and bites, but he felt sorry for her. She was completely exhausted and slap happy. She had probably not slept, if any at all, since Mike had died. She had been this way for a couple of days after Dom had died, but this was different. He knew that Mike dying was not the same as what had happened with Dom. Dom's death had been devastating, because he was so young, so new. He hadn't yet carved a place into the makeshift family; the team, yes, but not quite the family.

Sam watched Deeks and Kensi leave. He saved the document he had been working on then closed the laptop. He crossed his arms, leaned back into his chair, glanced toward the top of the staircase. He watched Callen sign his name to numerous forms. "G, have you talked to her..."

"Don't go there, Sam." Callen warned without glancing from his stack of expense reports that awaited his signature.

"Go where?" Sam inquired feigning ignorance.

"You know where." Callen answered. He signed three more forms, before he sighed and tossed the ball point pen unto the stack of forms. "Sam, go home, kiss your wife and hug your kid."

"G..." Sam said, ignoring the warning.

"Sam," Callen interrupted him. "I can't."

Sam sighed and looked to the high ceiling in frustration before his brown eyes landed on his best friend, his partner. He pushed anyway. However, instead of the question he had planned to ask, he asked, "When are you going to give it to her?

"Sam..." Callen said in a frustrated tone. He bit his tongue and shook his head, his upper lip snarled upward. He asked in defeat, uncertainty, "Do you think it would help her?"

Sam considered the question before he finally answered, "Yes. I do. Will it heal her? No. Help a lot? Probably not, but perhaps it would help her for one moment, and that one moment is one less moment of pain."

Callen snorted in derision. "I hate it when you get philosophical on me." He rolled his eyes, trying to play the conversation down. "You're like my own personal Buddha." Callen went back to his paperwork as a small smirk graced his lips.

Sam rolled his eyes as he stood. He retorted, "You love me regardless." He started to pack up to leave then paused. "Hey, G." He said softly.

Callen looked up from the stack of forms and answered, "Yeah?

"Tread carefully." Sam stated simply, but Callen recognized that the simple statement was anything but.

"I am, Sam." Callen answered, uncomfortable and bitter. He wished that Sam would drop the discussion and move to another topic...any other topic,

"No, G." Sam retorted. "For both of your sake, tread very carefully. You wouldn't be the first man that stepped in to help a widow to find himself..."

"And, there we go." Callen stated as he threw the ballpoint pen down. The velocity behind the throw made the pen land on the desk only to fly off and across the walkway toward Deeks's vacant desk. Callen pushed his chair back and walked around the steel decor barricade that gave them their closed off, yet open bullpen. "I can't do this with you, Sam."

Callen stepped up onto the bottom step of the 'L' shaped staircase that would lead him to Ops. He paused when Sam said, "Then don't. But, you've got to face the possibility of it happening."

Callen shrugged and a flash of pain crossed his features. It was so quick anyone else would have thought that they had imagined the closed off Callen showing any emotion, but Sam recognized it. He had spent years quietly studying his partner's behavior, what made the other man tick. A look of horror flashed across Sam's face when he heard Callen's reply.

Callen snorted and laughed at himself. The laugh was full of pain and mockery and a hint of shame. "I'm pretty sure that the 'possibility' sailed a long time ago."

"Dear God, Callen." Sam stated as he approached Callen and asked a question that if anyone else had asked, they would have received several punches for having the audacity to ask him. But this was Sam. Sam could get away with much more than just anyone. "Why, G? Why do you make things harder for yourself than what they need to be?" His voice dropped several octaves, to lower the chance that anyone that would walk by could not hear what he said, "I know you have a thing for the intellectual type, but really? Mike's girl?"

Callen clenched his jaw and rolled his shoulders. His blue eyes darkened and glared at Sam, "It's complicated."

"No shit, Sherlock." Sam retorted sarcastically.

Callen touched his tongue to te roof of his mouth and jogged up the steps to escape from Sam and his judgment. He appreciated Sam's concern, but the subject of both Mike and Nell were off limits to him. As Callen had said, it was complicated, and until Callen, himself, understood and accepted what was going on, he didn't need to discuss it with Sam, or so he felt. Sam was too close to the situation. Sam's opinion mattered to Callen more than anyone's and it would crush him for Sam to side against him. And, yet he wouldn't blame Sam for doing exactly that.

Callen really wished Nate was here.

And, that wish terrified him in several more ways.

He could feel the world that he had taken years to build slipping away.


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