'Tis better to have loved and lost...'

The flight back to Los Angeles took place in silence. Well that was not strictly speaking true. The flight back for Callen took place in silence. There were the gentle, endless conversations between Jeremy and Amy Tyler, the freelance photographers who'd been held captive in Iran and their two children. As the minutes turned in to hours, the voices had become hushed and although he could not see them, he knew the children had eventually fallen asleep, snuggling against their parents, safe in their family reunion. It was not something he begrudged the Tyler's. In fact there was a small part of him that was secretly jealous. The small part of him that he kept hidden and locked away in the back of his mind. The small part where he wished he could permanently throw away the key. Jealousy was an emotion that rarely surfaced now. He had perfected the art of hiding his feelings many years ago, but occasionally there were cracks. Callen thought back to the first time his father had met Jake and recalled the gut punch he felt as he witnessed the interactions between them. He was very fond of his nephew and had been getting along great with his half-sister but there was a tiny, tiny part of him that was jealous. Jealous of how easy Alex had adapted to suddenly having a father, of how comfortable she was in their relationship. He was jealous of how his father played with Jake, realising how much love he had missed out on when he and his sister Amy had been abandoned. It was not an irrational emotion, he recognised that, but it made him want to keep his distance, just a little bit more. He had not found it easy to become fully immersed in his newly found family and there at one point he was ready to call it quits with his father. Since revealing their familial connections to Alex, their relationship had slowly improved, and Alex? She was so warm and open, so well adjusted considering the bombshell he and his father had dropped on her that evening, many, many months ago. And just like that, it had all evaporated.

Callen moved his gaze from the newspaper in his hand, of which he had not read a single word, to the seat diagonally opposite. Brian Bush of the State Department was in a hushed conversation with the female agent sitting next to him. The rustling of papers, the underlining of certain words and the fingers pointed at a laptop ensured there was no doubt the conversation was all business. Callen stared. His eyes filled with a mixture of loss, anger and hatred. Bush glanced up, feeling the heat and weight of the stare and acknowledged Callen before turning back to his colleague and their work. Callen squeezed his hands into a fist and forced himself to look out the window at the blackness. He knew the jobsworth was only following orders, just like he knew his father had made the right decision for himself and for the Tyler's. It was that selfless attitude which had made him stop in his tracks. The realisation, through his father's own words, that he had to let his father go, and that once again he had lost his father. Nikita Reznikov had dedicated his life to saving the lives of men, women and families, those who were in peril and wanted to escape for a better, safer life in the West. He had sacrificed his own family, his own children, to save the lives of others, of strangers. Callen blinked back the tears which threatened to form, subconsciously curling his fingers even tighter in to his fist, pressing harder until he began to feel his short fingernails breaking the skin of his palms and he focused on the physical pain.

A movement caught his eye and he looked up to see his half sister walking down the aisle towards her seat. Alex stared straight ahead as she walked and blinked heavily as she turned and sat down. There was no eye contact between the two and yet again, a small piece of Callen's heart ripped. She had said her goodbye their father and marched past Callen, barely glancing at him and shaking her head. He closed his eyes as he recalled the previous day's conversation. She regretted letting him enter their lives. Sure they'd had a few months of getting to know each other and now it had been ripped apart. She'd said Jake had stopped eating after his grandmother had died and the day his grandfather was taken by the authorities, Jake had cried himself to sleep. Callen felt for both Alex and Jake, he really did. But he also knew that kids were tougher and more resilient than adults realised, especially when there was a loving mother who would do anything to protect her son. He sighed as he knew he would have to keep his distance. His presence would only cause her pain and he would have to wait, wait until Alex was ready. Nikita had said that she just needed time and Callen feared that was not the case. He thought Alex blamed him, that he had betrayed her by allowing the human trade to occur. Blamed him for introducing her to her father and then for taking him away.

Callen had found his father, he had found answers, found more than he could have wished for with Alex and Jake. And he had also found that he had been right. All those years ago when he was bitter and angry at the world, believing he had been abandoned, unwanted by his parents...he had been at least partially right. He'd had a real shitty childhood and from the little he had learnt, his sister Amy had not fared much better. He had told his father he didn't think he could ever forgive him and even now he stood by those words. But he understood why; his father abandoned his two young children to protect them, sending them to the West to live the American dream. If they had been found with Nikita when he was captured and sent to the gulag, Callen knew they would have experienced much, much worse in the Romanian orphanages. They would have made the American welfare state feel like a slice of heaven.

Callen's thoughts were making his head fuzzy and he mentally shook his head to clear away the jumble of emotions. He began to weigh up his options. He knew Pavol Volkoff would transfer his father from Iran to Russia immediately. He was head of the FSB and with all Russian intelligence at his fingertips, he had clearly known Nikita was residing in Los Angeles on a conditional visa and under the authority of NCIS. It stood to reason then, that Volkoff now knew he was Nikita Reznikov's son. It almost provided Callen with pleasure, knowing that Volkoff had twice assisted him, the son of his enemy, on two separate missions to Russia. Future trips to the motherland would not be so easy. Callen was sure he was already on a watch list, particularly after their last mission. He absentmindedly wondered if he could be a future target for Volkoff, then quickly pushed the thought away. There would be repercussions for Russia if they targeted an American federal agent and it might even place Volkoff in the embarrassing position of being forced to admit his role in a plot to rescue missing CIA agent Sharov, aka Balinski.

Callen glanced again at Bush. If he tried to launch a rescue mission, his own career as a federal agent would be over, as would Hetty's. Bush had made it blatantly clear the FBI would be brought in to investigate how he was allowed a career with the federal alphabet agencies, when he father was a KGB officer. He would be an embarrassment to his country and the CIA in particular, especially as he had spent years working in Russia. They might even accuse him of being a double agent. And then there was Hetty. Even if Bush's threats were empty now the exchange had taken place, Hetty's final warning and the promise to terminate him with extreme prejudice would still stand. She may have then been talking about rescuing Arkady but he knew the same principle would apply to any attempt of his to rescue his father. She would never allow him to trigger an international incident and from personal experience, he knew Hetty would carry through her threats. This time he would have to control his emotions and stay within the rules of the game. No going rogue. At least not until the time was right.

The following hours saw Callen run scenarios through his mind. He could infiltrate Russia undetected with ease and he had an array of contacts from his CIA days and some 'off the books' contacts that were discrete and trustworthy. He had a variety of alias's created over the years that had never crossed the books of any federal agency and they were fully backstopped with passports and other documentation created by some of the finest forgers in the business. He also had savings and the contacts to buy illegal weapons, cell phones and other technical equipment on the black market. Sometimes it paid to live a portion of your life in the dark. The trickiest parts would be finding where his father was being held and his actual rescue. He could not risk using NCIS resources, this would have to all be on him and he knew the odds would not fall in his favour.

Slowly, Callen's mind began to drift. No matter how hard he tried he could not even begin to formulate a plan of any kind. His eyelids became heavy and several times he jerked awake just as his head dropped to his chest. 'Tis better to have loved and lost, than never to have loved at all.' Callen almost smiled as he randomly recalled the famous Tennyson quote, although he was not quite sure it was applicable to family. A new day was finally dawning and he could see the sky beginning to lighten. Already the world had moved on. He recalled their final conversation and this time, he did smile. Hell, the man had even said he escaped once and he could do it again. Maybe he'd just better be on the lookout for an old Russian man named Igor. The smile disappeared as quickly as it had come. His father was an old man and Volkoff would torture and kill him, or maybe just leave him to rot away in a cell. He couldn't allow that. He couldn't move on, yet he had to, at least on the face of it. Once again he would have to lock away his emotions if only so he could continue to function.

He looked at his watch. It was another three hours until they landed. Another three hours of torment, of his mind whirring in circles and never getting anywhere. The only thing he could do at the moment was to give time and space. Hell, he felt guilty enough so avoiding her would be almost welcomed. He had caused Alex and Jake enough pain by entering their lives, the least he could do was to allow them to return to normality. Callen leaned back in his seat and closed his eyes. He knew sleep would not come and he was an expert in pretending. He locked the box in his mind and took out the key, tossing it to one side. He would not invite conversation on the subject and would shut anyone down who dared ask how he was feeling. Callen would do what he always did and carry on, regardless.