An Eye for an Eye
Chapter Thirteen
When Sam opened his eyes there was a moment of confusion. The smell of disinfectant and the narrowness of the bed quickly reminded him that he was in hospital. He vaguely recalled the ambulance journey from the beach with Callen sitting rigidly in the seat beside the gurney. His partner's face had been ashen from exhaustion and stress.
A head CT confirmed no serious damage. By that time Callen's normal sarcastic nature had resurfaced with the comment that the scan, surprisingly, showed that Sam did have a brain. The next acerbic observation was that it was a pity he hadn't used it before risking his health to take part in a dangerous rescue mission. Sam had been too sore and tired to argue. With Callen in that mood it would have been a waste of breath.
After the doctor cleaned and stitched the deep gash on his head he was admitted for observation. He remembered very little after that, concluding that he must have fallen asleep almost immediately. A quick glance at his watch showed that more than three hours had passed since then. The local anaesthetic used to numb his skin had worn off leaving a dull ache and the feeling that he was pulling on the stitches every time his expression changed. Thankfully the severe headache had abated as had the nausea and dizziness. He had no wish to spend the night in hospital and decided that he would persuade the doctor to discharge him by evening.
Having taken inventory of his injuries he turned his attention to the room and wasn't happy to see Callen sitting by the window reading a newspaper. "Where's Michael?" he asked sharply.
The paper rustled when Callen folded it. "Kensi and Deeks took him for pizza and ice cream. How do you feel?"
"Why didn't you take him?"
"I wanted to make sure you were okay."
Sam sat up carefully and glared at his partner. "I don't need a babysitter but Michael does."
"He's got two," Callen responded blandly. Whatever emotions he might be feeling were carefully hidden.
"He should be with his father," Sam pressed, wishing that he felt strong enough to shake some sense into his infuriating friend.
"There's no point him getting attached to me. Once we get home he'll never see me again."
"I thought your rationale for abandoning him was that he's afraid of you. That won't change if you don't spend time with him."
Callen stood up, his eye's narrowed. "I'm not abandoning him."
"What else would you call it?" Sam challenged. "You're ignoring him because you don't want to risk getting too attached."
"Leave it alone, Sam. I know what I'm doing."
"You've done some really dumb things in your life, G and this is right at the top of the list."
"I'm done listening to you."
"Good. Go and find your son."
The impasse was broken by a knock on the door. Deeks peered in. "Is it safe to come in?" he asked. "We could hear you yelling from out in the hallway."
"I thought you were looking after Michael," Callen said curtly.
"We are. You won't believe how much he eats. He's almost as fond of junk food as you are."
Callen folded his arms and stared icily at his colleague. "Take him back to the guest house and keep him occupied."
"Sorry, Callen, but Kensi and I reckon we've done enough. Michael keeps asking for you and, the way we see it, he's your responsibility. He's a good kid but he's scared and you're his family."
Callen's shoulders slumped. "I don't know what to do with him. I've never had much to do with children."
"Take him shopping," Deeks suggested. "He could use some new clothes. He's still wearing the same thing he had on when Ilena snatched him."
"I don't…"
"Stop fighting it, G. If you're intent upon staying out of his life this could be the only time you get to spend with him."
"It's a bad idea." The certainty had disappeared from Callen's voice.
"Try it."
Callen licked his lips nervously. "Alright."
Deeks hung back when Callen left the room and grinned at Sam. "We make a good team."
Sam grimaced. "Just make sure he doesn't change his mind. He's convinced that he's doing the right thing even though it's killing him. Michael's the only person who can make him realize he's wrong."
NCISLA
Callen stood in the hallway, watching Michael talking to Kensi. She said something and he turned. Although he no longer radiated abject terror he didn't look entirely at ease. Callen couldn't take his eyes off the boy, memorizing everything and tucking that memory away to sustain him for the rest of his lonely years.
"Hi," Michael said shyly.
"Hi. Did you have a good time with Kensi and Deeks?"
"They're nice." Michael looked quizzically at Deeks who had followed Callen out of Sam's room. "Is Kensi your girlfriend?"
Deeks grinned when he heard a choking noise from Kensi. "No, pal, she's my partner. Your dad…uh, Callen's going to look after you for a while. Kens and I will see you later."
Callen was vaguely aware of Kensi and Deeks leaving. He and Michael stared at each other, both uncertain of their next move. When Michael sidled over and took hold of his hand Callen caught his breath in surprise.
"The people here speak funny," Michael confided. "Marty says its…" His brow creased while he tried to remember what he had been told. "Romanian. Can you speak Romanian?"
"Yes, I can."
"Will you teach me?"
"I don't think so." Callen felt a deep pang of guilt when Michael's eager smile disappeared. "Okay, I'll teach you a couple of words. 'Hello' is salut or bunã. If you want to ask someone how they're feeling you would say 'ce mai faci?'"
When Michael stumbled through the unfamiliar pronunciation Callen felt a twinge of pride. They began to walk toward the main hospital entrance to find a cab. He tightened his grip on his son's hand.
"What's the word for 'daddy'?" Michael asked.
Callen's stomach lurched. "Tata."
"I like that."
An overwhelming sense of loss swept through Callen. There had never been a time in his life when he'd called anyone 'dad'. He cleared his throat. "So do I, Michael." There was a short line up of people waiting for taxis. "What's your favorite subject in school?" He had a deep curiosity about this boy who shared his DNA.
"Math," Michael replied without hesitation. "We don't learn other languages yet. I think I'll like that too."
"Do you play any sport?" They reached the front of the line and got in a cab. Callen made sure that Michael's seatbelt was fastened. He asked the driver to take them to the nearest store stocking children's clothes.
"Mommy's teaching me to swim and we ride our bikes on weekends. Do you have a bike? You could come with us."
"I don't think that would work, Michael. Your Mom and I haven't seen each other much since you were born. I don't think she'll want me around."
"I want you," Michael said softly, unshed tears shining in his eyes.
"We'll see," he hedged, unable to upset his son further by telling him the truth. Once Michael was home with his mother and surrounded by friends it wouldn't take long for him to put out of his mind the stranger who had entered his life for such a short time.
Michael's smile was dazzling. "Marty says we're going home tomorrow."
In contrast to Michael's enthusiasm Callen felt unmitigated sadness. He had no reason to love Romania and every incentive to leave except that it signalled the end of his relationship with his son. "That's right. We have a special plane coming just for us."
"Like the plane I was on before?" Michael shuddered. "I didn't like it. The men on it didn't speak to me and wouldn't give me anything to eat when I was hungry."
"It won't be the same this time. Sam, Kensi and Deeks will be with us and we'll make sure there's something good to eat."
The cab pulled up outside the City Park Mall and Callen paid the fare. When they walked inside he checked the interactive map and headed to the section dedicated to children's stores. He located the correct department where he looked helplessly at the racks of clothes. He had no idea what size to look for or where to start.
"Can I help you?"
He gave a sigh of relief. His inept confusion had apparently attracted the attention of one of the sale's assistants. "Please. We need two complete changes of clothes."
"Of course." She smiled at Michael. "What is your favorite color?"
Michael looked questioningly at Callen who quickly explained that they were visitors and that Michael didn't speak the language.
She switched to English. "I'm sorry. I thought you were local. Your accent is very good."
"Thank you." He stood back and watched her sort through the clothes. Michael chose a blue t-shirt and one with green and white stripes. Two pairs of jeans, underwear and socks were added to the pile. Callen's eyebrows shot up at the cost. He'd always been careful with money and only wore expensive clothes when they were provided by Hetty for his undercover work. It had never occurred to him that raising a child could be prohibitively expensive. No-one had ever spent much on him when he was growing up.
Even if he couldn't be in his son's life he could help financially. He had a feeling that Kristen's independent streak would cause her to baulk at accepting his money but he could be just as determined.
Once had paid for their purchases Michael tugged at his hand and pointed toward the toy department. Callen watched in wonder while his son scampered off to hunt through this new treasure trove. He couldn't remember ever being taken to a toy shop as a child. When Michael brought over a box of cars, some coloring books and crayons he couldn't resist the pleading look. He began to suspect that all children were skilled manipulators. Now he knew why Sam had been so intent upon finding his daughter the perfect Christmas present.
He could see the child gradually relaxing and admired his ability to put the fear behind him even if only for a little while. They walked to a nearby café where Callen ordered black coffee. His stomach was too unsettled for food even though he couldn't recall when he'd last had a decent meal. When Michael asked for a soda he found, to his surprise, that he was wondering if the sugary drink was a good idea. They compromised on a glass of milk and he had to smile at his son's pout.
Once they found a table Michael pulled out the crayons and one of his new books. While his son happily colored Callen got out his phone and dialled Deeks.
"How's it going?" Deeks asked.
"Good. How's Sam?"
"The doctor said he could leave. Of course, Sam was going to leave anyway 'cause he's just as bad as you are at accepting medical help. We're on our way back to the guest house."
"Have you spoken to Hetty?"
"Not since she confirmed that Arkady is lending us one of his executive jets. It'll be a damn sight more comfortable than that bone-shaker we used to get here."
"Any news from the police?"
"We can talk about that when you get here."
Callen sensed an evasion. "How about we talk about it now?"
Deeks sighed. "Alright. Ilena Vadim wants to see you."
Tbc
Caroline
June 2013