A/N: This chapter took a lot longer than I thought it would and I have to apologize for that. I haven't had a computer for the last little while and writing this with actually pen and paper was an interesting experience. While I enjoyed it, in some way it was like going back to basics, the process of editing what I had wrote has given me a new appreciation for copy and paste!
I'd like to dedicate this chapter to my friend JaniceS as a small thank you for your gift. I can't thank you enough! Hope you enjoy, Riptide
Chapter 7: Act
"You trade in your reality for a role. You trade in your sense for an act. You give up your ability to feel, and in exchange, put on a mask." – Jim Morrison.
There's blood on his hands when Callen meets Deeks' gaze across the mezzanine in every sense of the word and Yuri clouding his thoughts with an apathy that's uncomfortably familiar because he'd survived for nearly a decade with the CIA this way. Somewhere along the way Yuri had started to take over to the point that he'd barely been able to tell the agent in him apart from the mercenary and it's a point that Callen never ever wants to go back to. He'd had to work long and hard to box up the killer that the Agency had left him as and it's that same killer that's buzzing under his skin now.
Yuri's far too close to the surface in a way he hasn't allowed in years, not since before Hetty and Sam and OSP and he can't help but wonder whether he's managed to undue all of that in the last four days. Hetty once called Sam his anchor but she's got no idea just how true that is and he can't quite bring himself to contemplate just what Sam would say about his actions in the last ninety odd hours. Not hunting down the people who nearly killed his partner was never an option because Sam's showed him family in a way he didn't think himself capable of but Sam's a good man at heart in a way he's never been and he knows his partner would never agree with this kind of vengeance.
Revenge is a trait that Callen understands all too well, he's not embroiled in a three generation old blood feud for no reason, but this has become personal in a way that the Comescu's had never managed to touch. He hasn't felt this bone deep need for revenge since Matt, since his last partner was murdered and he'd killed the man who'd shot him and hunted down the woman who'd sold them out. He'd become an international fugitive for that, ran half way around the world from the CIA and Interpol and every other alphabet agency until Henrietta Lange had stepped into his life and Sam's become so much more than a partner. He's family, the brother he never expected to find and Callen feels fear prickle, sharp and uncomfortable, along his spine because he never wants to find out just what kind of lengths he'd go to for Sam and he's come so frighteningly close to losing it all this week.
Across the mezzanine Deeks' features tighten, his eyes darkening into a matching challenge of the one that Callen's sure is still in his own eyes. Yuri shifts beneath the agent's skin, cold and deadly and sighting a challenge or a threat in Deeks or possibly both. He's out of control in a way that's frightening because control has kept him alive this long and stopped him from being a liability to all the people around him that are counting on him to keep his head. He's hanging on to his identity, to the agent buried under the mercenary, by a thread of control and he needs to pull back from this before he can't anymore because he's lost himself to Yuri Bhutan before and it's not something he can afford to go back to. He has far more to lose now, a family he never expected to have with Sam and Hetty and a team he trusts to have his back, and a good woman who he's starting to imagine a future with despite the holes in his past.
Yuri's a part of this now though, one he needs until they find this missing nuke because he has contacts in the area and a thousand people who fear the legend that is Yuri Bhutan, the self-made ghost who burned a trail across the Indian countryside eight years ago at Hetty Lange's request and before that at the CIA's behest. He runs a hand through his hair in a strange mix of apathetic resignation because Yuri's already far too close, but he can't shut that mental vault without losing the only lead they have on this missing warhead.
Callen breathes deep, pulling air into his lungs and holding it there until his throat starts to burn, and then he pulls on that thin, fraying thread of control he has left and pulls the agent in him, Special Agent G. Callen, N.C.I.S., back from the mercenary. He tips his head to Deeks, and Kensi beside him, across the mezzanine, in something that swells in his chest like appreciation and relief because he knows in his gut that he never would have been able to keep even this little bit of separation without them there.
Deeks nods in return, worry and a startling amount of concern outlined in ocean blue eyes, then he slings an arm around Kensi's shoulders and turns away.
Its mid-afternoon, a handful of hours later before Callen turns up at the abandoned textile factory that they've borrowed as their temporary HQ. Deeks is standing just outside the shade of the tattered red awning that runs along the building's length, debating whether it's possible to get a sunburn through the healthy Californian tan he already boasts when Callen slinks around the corner of the boarded up auto shop thirty feet off to his right.
He's got a brown plastic grocery bag dangling from the fingers of one hand, something that looks like a pita sandwich in the other and a pure black street dog whining at his heels. The pup looks warily at Deeks before turning back to Callen, large pointed ears fixated on the agent's form and its dull black pelt stretched over its ribs in a way that makes it hard to judge the dog's age. Callen stops a handful of feet around the corner and his shadow stops at his side, turning big brown eyes up at the ex-operative as Deeks feels his jaw drop to somewhere around his ankles.
Callen regards the dog for a moment, a quiet little kind of half smile flitting across his lips and Deeks watches in a state of déjà vu because he remembers Callen in his kitchen nearly a week ago with Monty curled up around his feet and just how comfortable the agent looked with his dog that morning. G crouches down, offering the remainder of his sandwich to the mutt with an outstretched hand and a quiet murmur that Deeks is too far away to make out.
He straightens up again when the dog backs away, the morsel of food held tight between his teeth, and Deeks nearly does a double take because the whipcord tension from earlier is hidden again now and there's still the hint of a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. His eyes flicker though, when he catches sight of Deeks waiting for him because he's been off the grid for the better part of four hours in a hostile country and Marty was nearly to the point of organizing a search party through the streets of India. "Deeks," Callen greets, voice low and carefully controlled now, but there's something hidden in his eyes that warns Deeks not to push. "Kensi kick you out?"
"She's trying to set up a link with ops." Deeks explains, catching G's gaze and refusing to look away because there had been a truly frightening rage to Callen that morning in the food court outside of Red Fort, but he's in no mood to be cowed and Deeks can't deny any longer just how out of control this has gotten. He quirks an eyebrow at G in a way that can't be construed as anything but an open challenge, buries a wince as he wonders whether Kensi will bother to come outside if this ends with Callen going all Godfather on his ass, and tries to deny the worry that's curled, rock hard in his gut because this is so very out of character for the lead agent. "You pick up a tail well you were out?"
"Anything new come up?" Callen asks, completely ignoring his non-question and there's an edge in his eyes reminiscent of the mezzanine outside Red Fort that morning. It's buried under layers of carefully tuned control now, a breathtaking kind of rage held in check by a wish and a prayer and Callen's astounding amount of willpower.
"Not yet," Deeks murmurs, feeling shock and a surprising amount of admiration warming his chest because Callen had been so very on edge earlier and he'd barely even recognized the monster who'd been watching them from behind their team leader's eyes and stabbed a skewer through a man's hand, but Callen's a legend in every way imaginable and there's only a hint of that darkness now.
Deeks shakes his head, feeling weariness and exhaustion tugging all the way down to his bones despite it only being the middle of the afternoon because he feels like he's been walking a tightrope blind for the last two and a half days and he can't deny the toll this is taking on his teammates either. "We need to catch a break on this one. Soon."
Callen snorts, the sound sharp and bright and dryly sarcastic, "You don't say."
Kensi pokes her head out the door, drawn by the sound of voices and grins in relief when she finds Callen talking with her partner. She'd been far more worried than she'd ever wanted to let on when Callen hadn't turned up at their pilfered warehouse turned HQ. Callen's dangerous in every sense of the word and she doesn't doubt for a moment that he can take care of himself, but they're half way around the world in a hostile country and anything could have happened in the last four and a half hours. "G," she breathes then, relief making her tone light, "You get lost on your way back?"
"Took the scenic route," Callen shrugs, the move a half decent imitation of something far more carefree than it is, but she's been an operator for far too long to be played now and Kensi frowns as he straightens up, "I shook a few trees on the way back, and I brought lunch."
Deeks looks up at the glaring afternoon sun and frowns in turn, "Wouldn't that be lupper? Like lunch-supper?"
Kensi tilts her head at him in an expression that makes it completely clear that she thinks he's a moron, and Deeks shrugs, cheeky and unapologetic as Callen ignores him. The lead agent reaches out to pass the grocery bag in his hand over to Kensi and somewhere along the way Kensi realizes they've skipped the last two meals when her stomach rumbles loudly enough that Deeks smirks at her for it.
"Shut up," she snips, grinning at him before her partner can comment and he raises his hands in surrender and turns to follow her back inside, Callen on his heels close enough that it makes the skin on the back of his neck prickle in unease because the lead agent's so much more controlled now than he was this morning but there's still an edge of something in his eyes that put's Deeks on edge.
They end up sitting around the low table that their research was spread across, classified documents piled in heaps to make room for cardboard boxes of sticky rice and some kind of pork dumplings that Deeks doesn't know the name of but he thinks he could probably live off of. Callen sits across from him, picking away at a carton of rice with chopsticks as he flips through intelligence reports and briefs he's borrowed off the local chapter of the CIA. They need to catch a break on this case soon, and not just because of the obvious, because empty quiver is bad enough but Yuri is the worst kind of apathetic and Deeks and Kensi have no idea just what kind of threat he can be.
Callen sets his food aside, dragging his hands through his hair in frustration because there's no easy way out of this and as much as he'd like to he can't box Yuri Bhutan up again and finish this without him. He gives a moment to regret calling Hetty for back up despite the fact that he knows that this is bigger than even he can handle on his own because he'd never wanted them to see this side of himself that the Agency had tuned into a weapon and he's worked long and hard to keep that killer from ever seeing the light of day, especially around his team. He pictures the wariness in Deeks' eyes that morning from across the mezzanine and wonders whether he's undone all of that in the last five days. Callen drops his hands back down to the table and catches Kensi's gaze from where she's sitting beside her partner, "There has to be something here. What aren't we seeing?"
It's a rhetorical question, one he doesn't really expect her to have the answer to and Kensi swallows down her own frustration and shakes her head, opening her mouth to say something vaguely encouraging when the open laptop sitting at the head of the table shrills, bright and urgent, startling Deeks whose shoulder she'd just been leaning on. She reaches out to catch her balance at the same moment Deeks straightens to lock eyes with Callen across the table, "Ops. Maybe they found something?"
Kensi reaches out to accept the video call, sitting back as it buffers and then blinks because Callen's moved faster than she thought possible in the instant her eyes were on the computer screen to stand across the room, within hearing distance but well out of sight of the webcam. She purses her lips, but bites back on a comment because Callen's right about the fact that nothing good will come from Granger knowing that he's here, and they need all the help they can get.
It's Nell on the screen when the picture clears, her red hair tied back in a messy ponytail and circles under her eyes that speak of a long night spent searching electronically for a missing warhead. She smiles when they come on screen, excitement chasing away weariness in her eyes and Kensi musters up a genuine grin for her friend, before angling the screen so Deeks can see too, "Hey guys! How are you holding up?"
Eric appears over her shoulder, wiggling his fingers at them in a childish wave that makes Kensi question just how much caffeine he's been allowed in the last couple of hours, "How's India?"
"Hot," Deeks complains at the same moment Kensi murmurs the same thing, except he doubts that she was talking quite as literally as he was. He shares a glance with his partner, reading worry and care in her eyes and wonders just how long they can keep this up. Callen's acting ten different kinds of out of character and he'd have to be blind not to see that there's something going on with Kensi as well. They need a break in this and they need it soon, Deeks thinks, before this gets any more out of hand than it already is.
He shifts his gaze away from Kensi and back to Nell, and Eric behind her, on the screen, "What did you guys find?"
Nell sobers instantly, shifting in her seat to glance back at Eric over her shoulder, and Deeks feels his good mood drop to somewhere around his ankles because there's nothing good that ever comes out of that look. Eric reaches over Nell's shoulder to click a handful of keys on the console they've crowded around and half way around the world Deeks watches as their screen splits to show a handful of intelligence briefs backed up by satellite images and what looks like some kind of night time video footage. "We just got these from the CIA a few minutes ago."
Nell pushes her bangs off her forehead with one hand before looking back to them and Kensi sucks in a breath sharply because there's a surprising amount of worry in the analyst's eyes, "We believe ISIS has the missing warhead."