Chapter Four

The feeling that the axis of his world was slipping, tilting in the wrong direction momentarily righted as he saw Nell in front of the large touch screen talking to Eric who was tapping away on his tablet, and either nodding to answer Nell or pointing out something that she hadn't found, but he had. Immediately, Callen became more concerned about the younger woman than himself and his own personal struggles to come to terms with Mike's death and the role he played in it. He buried his demons within his psyche and fortified the mask that held his grief and confusion at bay as the mask considerably weakened around her.

It was as if his inner compass felt most at ease around her, that he could be himself, no matter how dark or light that person was, and yet he didn't want to expose that darkness to her. She was his light and he was afraid that his darkness would be too much, that it would extinguish the light, a light that was becoming dimmer and dimmer, because of her grief.

He hadn't been lying to Sam a few moments ago. The possibility for him to get too emotionally involved with her, about her had long since sailed. He had respected her since she had joined the team, because of someone so young had to have skills and proved herself to be considered, let alone receive the position she held. That respect grew when she continuously took to task people bigger than she—physically and in rank. He began to trust her over time. Her independence and intelligence were attractive to him. Her control issues had entertained him from the start. Unfortunately, what he felt for her was sidetracked. It had taken him a little over six months to decide to ask her out for drinks, but fate would have it another way, because the day that he had planned to ask her, she had received flowers . . . and he recognized the handwriting on the card that she had stashed in her pocket once Sam questioned her about them.

The handwriting had belonged to Mike Renko. He had been in town in between Operations. That night, instead of Callen having drinks with Nell, he had them with her boyfriend of over a year, Mike Renko, and everyone's friend, Nate Getz. It had blown Callen's mind to find out that Mike had been in a relationship for more than a month. A relationship that was on the down low, because Mike feared that Nell would be in more danger if their relationship status was known.

Mike Renko didn't do relationships, but it made sense, because that night Callen realized that the 'friend' Mike had talked about before the Operation with the militia group that had him at a gunpoint by a Jonas Brother, was a younger Nell Jones. And, Nell Jones had been the one that had made him reconsider his own six-week rule. However, because of her relationship with Mike, Callen's six-week rule had become a one-night-only one.

Fate was a bitch, a cruel hard ass one. Fate-had taken so many people from him, why did it have to take Mike, too? He took a deep breath and buried the memories, the hurt and the bitterness.

As he stepped further into Ops, he watched Eric and Nell at work. One side of his lips tilted into a small smile; he was always amazed at how seamlessly they worked together, because it hadn't been that way, at first. The two was so much alike almost of the same mind, same person and yet polar opposites in the next second. He kept expecting to walk into Ops in the middle of a huge argument, equipment flying or screens exploding. He pressed his lips together and clenched his jaw, as he realized what he had done, the memories had slipped past his mask.

Nate would say that he had transferred his unresolved feelings about his former partnership with Mike, about his relationship with Mike period, unto Eric and Nell's partnership. And, Callen wouldn't be able to truthfully deny it, because those descriptions used to apply to the former partnership. They had been so volatile that Hetty had no choice, but to split them up. For a year after the professional partnership with Mike ended, Callen had several partners; Macy, Kensi, and many unnamed Agents that couldn't hack it with the OSP let alone with crazy Callen as many had nicknamed him behind his back. Was it so awful that he shot first then asked questions while a bomb ticked away? Apparently, most of them had thought so. It hadn't been until Hetty had placed him with Sam that he began to understand the team dynamic; before that he had always seen himself as a piece of a puzzle; the piece that always found itself somewhere it wasn't supposed to be, the piece that became so tattered that the entire puzzle had to be replaced, or the piece that inevitably was lost, but the puzzle still worked, mostly, without it. He had made the mistake once of telling his puzzle viewpoint to Nate once . . . and as a result Callen had become more creative in his avoidance of the Operational Psychologist, because Nate was tenacious and passionate about helping people, and even more so where it concerned his friends.

From 2005 to 2006, Callen and Mike had been partners in the fledgling OSP. A little over a year filled with what Hetty had called useless and unnecessary explosions and gunfights, because both men had a death wish added to the fact that they were entirely too much alike that they were totally different. Macy had always laughed when Hetty went on a tangent on the pair, before trying to persuade her that the 'boys' only acted the way that they did to get a reaction out of her, which was partly true, Callen had to admit. Yet, that was simply how he and Mike were, how they had been for years.

Nate had once told him that it was natural for him and Mike to act and react the way that they did, because both saw the other as a brother. Nate was the only one to know that he and Mike were brothers . . . once foster brothers. No, that wasn't right, Hetty had to know, because she had kept track of the fostered homes that he had been sent to; that knowledge still left a bitter taste in Callen's mouth; that Hetty had known where he had been when he wasn't on the streets, (Callen suspected that even then, she had an idea of where he was) and yet she did nothing, had left him with some of the worst monsters he had ever met, and he had met plenty of monsters in the last twenty-plus years in the military and law enforcement.

He was brought out of the reminiscent of memories when Nell sprinted past him without a backward glance. His brow furrowed and he glanced at the closing automatic doors then at Eric who shrugged. Callen went to turn around to follow her, but stopped when he heard Eric speak.

"She's okay," Eric said in a tone that sounded more as if he was trying to persuade himself instead of Callen. "She does that a lot here lately."

"She does what a lot?" Callen asked for specifics. "Run from Ops like it's on fire?"

Eric grimaced, "Yeah. And, this morning when I came into work I found her asleep at her station in yesterday's clothes, and when she woke up she barely missed my feet vomiting in the paper bin." He sighed as if finally admitting to himself that his hopes were for naught. "Something's wrong with Nell, G."

"Yeah, I know." Callen answered then tilted his head and narrowed his eyes as he looked at Eric.

Eric tensed and took a step back at how Callen regarded him. He was brave enough to admit that Callen scared him at times. Callen always had an aura of danger around him, all of the agents did, but Callen was different; his danger was dark. If he and Callen weren't friends, family, Eric felt as if he would always be scared of Callen. It had taken some time to get over the fear of Callen and then when the Callen and Sam had been first partnered, Eric had been convinced that the dark side Super Man and the lighter side of The Hulk had joined forces. And, almost six years later, Eric was certain he had been right.

Eric was brought out of his thoughts when Callen snapped his fingers in front of Eric. Eric blinked and jolted at not realizing that Callen was no longer on the other side of Ops, but within arms reach.

"Eric?" Callen prompted. He glanced upward then his blue eyes met Eric's green. Eric looked exhausted and yet he tried to forge onward. Callen hadn't heard Eric complain once in the past three weeks, not that Eric normally complained, but out of the entire team, he knew that Eric had worked the most hours, because added to everything the team did, needed from him, Eric had to maintain the computer systems and had more paperwork than they all combined. Eric and Nell frequently worked the most hours. Realization hit Callen. If Eric had logged in the most hours, then Nell must not be far behind him, if not matched hour for hour, minute to minute. Nell was literally working herself sick when she should be grieving, or was if her grief that was making her sick? Callen wasn't sure, but he would check in on her and if she needed, he would take care of her.

"What?" Eric asked as he blinked seeing two Callen's; it was past time for another energy drink and some Oreos.

"I want you to go home." Callen said, his eyebrows raised as if daring Eric to try to persuade him otherwise.

Eric sputtered, "What? What did I do?"

Callen sighed, "Nothing, Eric. The last few weeks have been hard for us as a team, and I'm giving the team the rest of the day off and tomorrow."

Eric blinked, "But . . . "

"No, no buts." Callen interrupted.

"Thanks, G," Eric answered. He grimaced as he continued attempting to persuade him, "But seriously I can't go home right now."

"Why not?" Callen asked patiently, because he knew that Eric questioning him meant that the questioning was valid.

"I don't work exclusively with you guys," Eric stated. He nudged his glasses up the bridge of his nose. Callen narrowed his eyes upon seeing the tell. Eric wasn't telling him something. However, Callen's suspicions of the tell was abated upon hearing what Eric continued to say, "When you guys are doing paperwork or down time, I'm loaned out to the secondary teams and I'm currently assisting Abby with one of Agent Gibbs' cases."

Callen nodded in understanding. He knew that Eric sometimes worked with the other teams, because his skills were unparalleled. However, that did not mean that Callen would allow Eric to be taken advantage of or only seen as an Asset to the Agency.

"The secondary team's case what is it?" Callen asked, because if it was something that one of the other Tech's could do, he'd have Eric delegate it to them. Eric needed time to grieve as much as the rest of the team and if their eyes and ears was exhausted then it would be a liability in the field that they couldn't risk. Oddly, Eric seemed the most put together of the team. He looked tired, ragged, but not as out of it as Kensi. Callen supposed it was all of the Energy Drinks that he had seen the younger man drink. Energy drinks to Eric was what coffee was to Callen's good friend Gibbs.

Eric became uncomfortable under Callen's awaiting gaze. He touched his glasses on the nosepiece again and then once on the earpiece, "Well, I'm not at liberty to say."

"Eric," Callen said, trying his best not to slip into interrogation mode. It was now obvious to Callen that Eric was withholding vital information, because Eric was usually an open book, one of the most open people that Callen had ever encountered. Eric wore his heart on his forehead; whatever he felt, could be easily seen and deciphered. And, yet, in this moment Eric was being almost as closed off as Callen was when Callen tried to be open. "Eric," He repeated. Eric backed away and Callen stepped forward. "What aren't you telling me?"

Eric cleared his throat, but the sound was more of a croaking sound. He answered in a tone that became high-pitched by the time he said the last word, "G, I'm sorry, but it's classified."

"Don't give me that," Callen retorted as he took another step forward. Eric took a step back and to the right to move around the large touch screen table. Callen continued stalking Eric and Eric continued to retreat. Callen continued, "If it were Deeks, Kensi, or hell even Sam asking you, you could get away with saying that, but this is," Callen paused when he saw the look of true fear and a touch of regret on Eric's face. He planted his feet on the ground, pressed his lips together, and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Eric. Please forgive me, I'd never hurt you."

Eric nodded relieved. He knew deep down that Callen wouldn't hurt him, would never land a hand on him, and yet he feared that one day that would be exactly what Callen would do. He tightened his grip on his tablet and sat down at his station. When Callen continued, Eric tensed.

"This is me, Eric." Callen said as he sat in Nell's chair at her station directly beside Eric's. "No one in the office has a higher security clearance than I do," He paused and shrugged one shoulder, "Except Hetty, and even then in some areas, mine is higher than hers." He clasped his hands together, rested his forearms over his jean-clad quadriceps. He leaned forward toward Eric. "What aren't you telling me? Seriously, Eric, it can't be that classified if one of the secondary teams is handling it. No one on those teams, including the Agents in Charge, has a higher security clearance than Deeks, a liaison for the primary team."

When a look of total defeat and a hint of relief crossed Eric's facial features, Callen knew that Eric would truthfully answer him. The grip that Eric had on the tablet was as tight as it could be, his knuckles turning white. Eric pressed his lips together and sighed. He leaned toward Callen as if to whisper conspiracies, but then snapped to attention, his back as straight as possible as he sat in the chair. Callen regarded him and wondered what had caused the reaction, but when he heard Assistant Director, Owen Granger's voice, he understood. Callen rolled his eyes at how Granger said, 'Agent Callen,' as if to remind him that he was an Agent.

"Agent Callen," Owen droned dryly. "Your arrogance never ceases to amaze me."

"Your impeccable timing is a few weeks too late." Callen retorted, swiveling the chair around to look at Granger. "Where were you when Mike needed his Handler?"

Owen placed his hands in his designer grey slacks and narrowed his brown eyes at the younger man, his subordinate. A flash of a smile across his lips made Callen wary. Just as fast as the smile flashed it was gone. "Agent Callen, the real question is where were you? Ten feet away?" He arched his right eyebrow as he needled, "One would think you'd allowed it to happen, after all Janvier was after you not a lower ranked Agent who had no team to call home. Did you think that if Janvier successfully targeted Agent Renko that he wouldn't have to target Agents Hanna and Blye?"

Callen quickly rose out the chair and caught himself from raising his right arm from his side from the first accusation that Granger had said. Callen's upper lip snarled. "Mike has a team." He swallowed and silently cleared his throat. His voice raw, his throat burned with restrained grief and anger. "His significance is no lower than anyone on that team. If you remember, Assistant Director, Agents Hanna and Blye, as well as Detective Deeks were targeted."

A strange sparkle twinkled in Granger's eyes as he listened to what Callen said and watched how Callen said it. Callen angrily walked past him and Granger smirked at being able to anger him. Granger slightly turned to look at Callen.

"Had, Agent Callen, had." Granger corrected, his tone normal and yet underneath it was snide.

"What?" Callen asked, as he paused in the doorway preventing the automatic double doors from closing.

"Agent Renko," Granger answered, his tone accusatory, "Had a team and they let him down as they always have."

Callen rolled his shoulders and left, because he would not be able to help his team if he were to do what he wanted to do to Granger.

Just when Callen had thought that Granger wasn't so bad, the older man always proved him wrong. There were two things that Callen hated more than anything it was being wrong about something that was important and being deceived whether intentionally or accidentally.

In his moment of anger, grief, and worry he failed to realize that . . .

Sometimes, being wrong leads to something right.

Sometimes, being deceived leads to something open.

And, yet, some wrongs can never be righted, and some lies can never be forgotten.

Or forgiven.

Thank you for reading! :)

I appreciate all of the readerships, alerts, favorites, and reveiws. Thank you for giving this unorthodox Nell/Callen story a chance. I love Nell/Callen and Mike Renko so what better than to combine them into a story about dealing with the death of Mike Renko? I'm not sure about what y'all's opinion of Mike is, but I, for one, am in denial that he's dead in canon. My conspiracy theory, you ask? He's off on some super secret Op that will be revealed later in the season.

Chapter Five will be posted later today/tomorrow depending on what time zones we all are in.