Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS: Los Angeles or the characters. I'm just borrowing them. I make no money from this.

Author Note: I don't know how to write accents, especially Irish ones. So just imagine that Connors speaks with a heavy Irish accent, ok?

Callie huddled next to the prone body of the NCIS agent. Her father. Her eyes were wide as she stared at the blood dripping from his head wound. This was all of her fault. They were after her. Tears slipped silently down her face. If she hadn't run out they wouldn't have found her and he wouldn't have been captured, injured. If she hadn't been born her mother would have been able to fight, probably get away herself. It was all of her fault.

She ignored the throbbing of her cheek, the taunting of the men around them. Her focus remained on the unconscious man beside her. Why wasn't he waking up? How badly was he injured. 'Please don't die,' she thought. He couldn't die, not now. She'd only just found him.

She didn't even realize the van had stopped until the doors slid open and rough hands grabbed her, dragging her away. "No!" She struggled, not wanting to be separated from him. A hand impacted her face and she slumped in their hold, black spots dancing in her vision as a cry of pain escaped her.

But despite the pain she noticed as Callen suddenly moved, lashing out with his feet at her attacker. Pushing himself up, he made to tackle one of the men.

Callie cried out as her hair was painfully yanked back and something cold was pressed to her throat. Through blurry vision she watched Callen go still before slumping in defeat as two men grabbed his arms.

"Very good Roberts or whatever your name really is," a voice came from behind her said.

"Connors," Callen said, his eyes hard as he gazed behind her. "You've got me, let the girl go."

"I think not." The pressure on her scalp vanished as the man behind her stepped in front of her. He wore an expensive suit, his black hair combed neatly back. His face would have been considered handsome but for the ugly star puckering his left cheek. He reached out, gently fingering a strand of her hair, brushing it back from her face. "She's a pretty little thing, isn't she?"

Callie flinched back slightly at his words and actions. She saw Callen tense.

"But a bit young for me. Pity she's not a few years older. I'd have had some fun with her," Connors sneered at the agent.

Callie recoiled away from the man as his meaning sunk in. For once in her life she was thankful that she appeared younger than she was as she didn't know how young was too young for this sick creep.

A look of black fury came over Callen's face and he would have lunged forward if not for the men holding him in place. "You sick son of a bitch! Don't you touch her!"

Connors stepped away from the girl, stopping in front of the agent and punched him in the stomach. Callen sagged slightly in captors grips as the air was driven out of his lungs. "You're in no position to make demands. Besides, I've already said she's too young for that. But I'm sure I could find someone who has no such qualms. Perhaps you'd care to watch?" He laughed before punching him in the face.

"Bring them," Connors told his men as he walked deeper into the empty factory. "I believe it's time for a little reunion."

The two were roughly dragged in Connors wake. Callie's eyes went wide with shock as she stared at the figure lying in the center of the room. "M-mom?" She barely felt the hands release her, the next thing she knew she was kneeling next to the barely recognizable figure. There was so much blood. Every inch of her body seemed to be bleeding. If not for the slight rise and fall of her chest she'd think she was dead. Tears welled up in her eyes. "Mommy?"

The figure stirred and bloodshot green eyes opened to fix on her face. "Callie, m'baby," the voice slurred. She raised a shaking hand to gently brush against the girl's cheek.

Sobs shook Callie's body as everything else faded away. "Mom, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," she sobbed.

"Shh, not your fault."

"Yes it is! If I hadn't been born you'd have been able to fight, they wouldn't have gotten you."

"Look at me."

Callie slowly opened her eyes and met her mother's gaze.

"Never say that. I've never regretted your existence. You are my miracle, my Beannacht."

Callie's eyes teared as her mother called her a blessing.

"As touching as this is, you're making me sick," Connors drawled before motioning to his men. One grabbed Callie, dragging her away from Erin.

"Mom!"

The other man grabbed Erin, dragging her to her feet as well. A moan of pain escaped her and she lifted her head to glare at Connors. Her eyes went wide as she spotted the man behind him.

In the meantime, Callen had taken the time to retrieve the safety pin from his belt and was slowly working on picking the lock on his cuffs. He had to be ready to move at the first chance. As he saw Erin's gaze focus on him he nodded at her, swallowing the lump in his throat as he took in her condition and the amount of blood coating her and the floor. She didn't have much time. He watched as she glanced at Callie before looking at him once more, an apology written in her eyes.

'I understand,' he mouthed back at her. He watched a look of relief come across her face.

Connors chose that moment to start speaking again. "You two cost me a lot all of those years ago. I've had a long time to plan my revenge, and now you've given me the perfect means." He reached into his pocket and drew out a gun. He turned to face Callen, who straightened, bracing himself. "Choose."

A cloud of confusion settled over Callen. "What?"

Connors gestured and Callie and Erin were dragged to stand next to one another. "Choose," he repeated, gesturing at them with the gun.

Callen's eyes went wide. He couldn't possibly be saying-

"Choose which one of them dies."

Callen could only stare at them, unable to speak. What was he supposed to do? He saw Erin trying to meet his gaze, knew what she wanted him to say but he couldn't make his mouth move. He forced his fingers to work faster.

"If you don't choose, I'll have to do it." Connors pointed the gun first at Erin then at Callie who stared wide-eyed at him.

"M-me," Erin said weakly. "S-shoot me. L-leave her out of t-this."

"I thought you'd say that," Connors said as he aimed the gun at Erin. A look of relief came across her features only to vanish as a cruel smile twisted his face and he shifted his aim to Callie. "That would be too easy." He fired.

Several things happened at once. The doors burst open with a cry of "Federal Agents, drop the weapons!"

Callen finally freed one hand from the cuffs and turned on the men holding him, taking one out, grabbing his gun and shooting the other.

And Erin gathered the last of her strength to tear herself away from the man holding her, pushing herself into the path of the bullet aimed at her daughter.

Callie collapsed under her mother's weight, something warm and sticky hitting her in the face. "M-mom?" she called as she managed to shift her mother off of her. "Mom! Wake up!" she cried as she took in Erin's pale face, her eyes closed and a peaceful smile on her face. "Mom," she sobbed brokenly ignoring the shouts and gunfire that surrounded them.

Callen briefly closed his eyes as her cries reached him. He pushed it away, there would be time for grieving later. Right now he had to get to her, she wasn't safe sitting there in the open. But he was currently pinned down behind a piece of machinery. He popped out from behind it, managing to take out one of the men shooting at him. He quickly scanned the area, spotting the rest of his team and Granger as they worked their way towards them. This was taking too long, Callie was too exposed. He glanced back at her and his blood froze in his veins as he saw Connors approaching her. He turned his aim on him only to have to duck back behind cover as Connors' men took aim at him once more.

Callie was lost in her grief, her awareness centered on her mother. It wasn't until hands roughly grabbed her, dragging her away from Erin's corpse that she reacted. "No!" She struggled in their grip only to be struck in the face. Dazed, she was dragged away, stumbling backwards up some metal stairs.

Callen cursed as he saw Connors grab Callie, using her as a human shield. He watched as he dragged her up the stairs to the catwalk. His team was too far away to get to her. He rose, knowing he was her only chance only to have to duck again. He turned to face his team, his eyes meeting Sam's.

Sam nodded at him, knowing what his partner needed. Stepping out from behind cover, he fired at the men pinning Callen down, Granger doing the same, giving the agent a chance to make a break for the stairs. A moment later they ducked back behind cover as shots peppered where they had been standing seconds earlier. The two men shared a look. This was taking too long.

Callen raced up the stairs and along the catwalks. "Let her go Connors," he ordered, gun aimed at the other man's head. He pushed down the rage and fear he felt as Connors held a gun to Callie's head.

"I don't think so, she's my ticket out of here." Connors backed up another step, dragging the girl with him.

Callen tightened his grip on the gun. "The building's surrounded. You won't make it 10 feet. You'd be better off giving yourself up." The gunfire from below had tapered off, he knew they'd be having company soon.

Connors glanced behind himself for a second. Then pressed the gun harder against Callie's head. "We've been in this situation before, you couldn't shoot me then, you won't shoot me now. Unless she doesn't mean as much to you as her mother did." He smirked at the agent.

Callen forced his emotions away, refusing to let the man's taunts get to him. He kept his eyes locked on Connors' face. He wasn't sure what he saw, a change in expression, a blink. Whatever it was, he knew what was coming.

Connors suddenly pulled the gun away from Callie, aiming instead at the agent in front of him. Before he could pull the trigger a bullet entered his brain, the force spinning him around and sending him over the railing of the catwalk to the hard cement floor down below.

Callen lowered the gun as Callie collapsed to the floor of the catwalk. He took a moment to calm his racing heart, get his emotions locked firmly under control. "Callie?" he called. Receiving no answer, he took a step toward the shell-shocked teen who was just starting to push herself up. He froze as a metallic groan filled the air. "Don't move!"

It was too late. With a horrific sound, the section of the old, metal structure that Callie was on tore itself away, falling to the ground.

Callen threw himself forward, his arms wrapping around her, keeping her from following it to the ground. He held her tightly by her upper arms as she dangled there for a second before he managed to pull her back onto the still stable section of catwalk. They collapsed there in a heap and he pulled her into his lap as she shook.

"G!"

"Callen!"

"You alright?!"

He heard the calls but couldn't answer them. Not yet. His entire focus was on the girl in his arms. "It's okay, I've got you. Everything's going to be alright now. I'm here," he murmured to her as he pulled her tightly against his chest, his chin resting on the top of her head. "I'm here, моя дочь," he told her.

At his words Callie froze, turning her face to stare at him. "Y-you called me your d-daughter," she breathed.

Callen pushed aside the knowledge that she spoke Russian. "Because you are. I'm here now, it's going to be alright."

She sobbed, trying to wrap her arms around him but the cuffs prevented it. Her struggles grew worse as she tried to move but couldn't.

"Shh, it's okay, I'll have you free in a minute." He made swift work of picking the lock and her arms came around him tightly as she sobbed into his chest.

"M-mom. S-she's d-dead."

He closed his eyes in grief. "I know, I'm sorry. But I'm not going anywhere, I promise." He rocked her against his chest.

"G?!" He heard again, followed by footsteps on the stairs.

"Stay back! I don't know how stable the rest of this structure is!" He called. The footsteps stopped. He turned his attention back to the girl in his arms. "Come on, we've got to get down from here." He stood, holding her close to him.

Callie's legs shook as she stared at the hole she had nearly fallen through. Only Callen's arms around her kept her on her feet. "I h-hate heights," she muttered weakly. With that one sentence she found herself swung up into his arms once more, her face pressed into his neck.

"Don't look," he told her as he carefully made his way back to the stairs. He gave his team a nod of thanks and reassurance as he reached them. "Keep your eyes closed, don't look," he told her again as he reached the bottom, not wanting her to see the bodies littering the area. He met Granger's eyes and received a look of acknowledgment and a nod of respect.

Sam stepped up to him. "Paramedics are outside, you want me to take her?"

His hands automatically tightened around her. "No, I've got this."

His partner met his eyes and smiled. "Yeah, you do." He clapped him on the shoulder and led the way outside.