Sorry for the delay.

Chapter 14

The day had passed and another crisis diverted. It had taken a little longer without the expertise of Agent Callen, but nevertheless successful. Hetty opened her door to one of her many houses and walked over to her turn of the century liquor cabinet. She took a sigh of relief. She twisted the top of her favourite scotch and started pouring herself a drink when she felt movement behind her. In a millisecond she had turned around and had her gun pointed directly at her old friend, "Grigori?"

"Hello Hetty, you can put your gun down," said Grigori stepping out of the shadows and smiling.

"No…" she said not moving nor wavering, holding her gun faultlessly still, though inside Hetty felt uneasy and nervous.

"Bitte Hetty," he asked humbly, his eyes pleading yet keeping his distance. History had taught him better than to mess with Henrietta Lange.

She lowered her gun and motioned for him to sit down, she went back to the liquor cabinet, forever keeping an eye on Grigori, and poured him a drink as well, neat, just they way he liked it. She walked over keeping a distance and placed the drink on the coffee table. She then got hers and sat down opposite. He extended his hand and picked up the glass, "Do I need to be concerned?" asking Hetty whether the glass or whiskey had been poisoned.

"No. Why are you here Grigori? She asked well knowing the answer and really not in the mood for any charades.

"Is this how you greet all of your old friends?" he asked trying to lighten the situation.

"No…only the ones I'm suspicious about and I won't ask how you got in. How have you been Grigori?" asked Hetty taking her first sip.

"Well and you?" he responded taking a sip himself.

"Busy with work and," she paused making sure he'd hear the next few words, " and fulfilling a promise I made to you 35 years ago."

"I have never thanked you properly Hetty, have I? Knowing that you were watching over him when I couldn't. It meant and means a great deal to me," he said showing emotion, which was very unlike Grigori.

"Why are you here?" asked Hetty trying not to succumb to his charm.

"I heard what happened and I needed to come," he said, his eyes not moving from Hetty's.

"Why now? Why not when he was shot 5 times? When he was so close to death and we could all feel the Reaper's scythe. Why now Grigori?" accused Hetty placing her glass down with a thud.

"Now I can, back then I couldn't. There are things, Hetty that you no nothing of. But I knew all that was happening with him. I have means Hetty and I know people, important people," he said with a slight rise in his voice.

"Yes I'm very well aware of that Grigori and don't take that tone with me. I am not your enemy," she took a breath and tried to calm the situation. She was insanely protective of Callen and she always found it hard to comprehend why Grigori didn't feel the same. But she couldn't voice her opinions. She didn't want him to leave again, so she took a softer approach. "He needed you," said Hetty, trying to appeal to the man's human side.

"He had you. He didn't need me then," he said mysteriously.

"What does that mean, alter Freund?" asked Hetty, eyeing him suspiciously. Grigori's words were always chosen carefully. Why was he playing games with her? He always spoke like this, tap dancing around the true meaning, the truth. "For once Grigori stop the games and tell me what you mean," said Hetty as she finished her scotch exasperated.

"I see that age is making you impatient. You don't tolerate games anymore Hetty. Fine, out of respect for our friendship. I am here to help him and in the process I am getting to know my son…my brave and broken son. I will make him whole again," said Grigori facing Hetty and for the first time, speaking the truth.

"The doctor says Callen's recovering well and he will return to work as he has done many times before. How will you make him whole? His past has taken its emotional toll on Callen. He tries and tries but the scars of 35 foster homes, growing up without any knowledge of where he comes from, knowing that he was abandoned, learning to trust only himself and finally Grigori, having to live his life as a ghost. The body will heal, his mind, heart and soul never will. So how, how Grigori will you make him whole?" said Hetty losing her patience and tearing up before him.

"You don't know?" asked Grigori in disbelief.

Hetty suddenly found herself at a loss…she was expecting something else to come out of his mouth, "What…know what?"

"His true condition," said Grigori staring at Hetty, almost showing emotion.

She looked at him, studying his face and body language ever so carefully, "You're concerned…what is Callen's true condition? What do you know, Grigori? Tell me!" she found herself shouting.

"The injuries have caused temporary paralysis. At the moment he is unable to walk but I will change that," he told her bluntly showing a detached demeanour often mimicked by Callen.

Hetty's face became pale as her features became sullen. How much more was this boy to bear? She remained speechless as Grigori's gaze looked away, almost embarrassed by the hurt this truth had caused. "I'm sorry, I've never had the talent for being tactful," he said trying to erase the revelation in the most apologetic way he could muster.

She lifted her gaze and Grigori saw something he thought Hetty was incapable of doing, she was crying. The two lonely tears trickled down her emotionally weathered face. He was taken aback. He underestimated her feelings for and her relationship with Callen. "Hetty?" he whispered.

"You see I have been watching him for so long. He has become like a son to me, Grigori. I watched him suffer at the hands of so many abusive homes, I watched him roam the streets aimlessly, I watched him try to find sense in a world that was so alien to him, I watched him trip and fall and I also watched him dance with death. But Grigori I've also seen him pick himself up and find the strength to move on, I've seen him muster indescribable courage and I've seen face death several times and emerge the victor but this Grigor…this is too much!"

She got up and started to walk back and forth, thinking…trying to get her head around the whole convoluted mess. Still there was something that was eating at her, something she couldn't answer, and then she stopped, placing her hands in her jacket pockets she turned to him and asked, "Why now? Why did you decide to show yourself, to come out of hiding? You know they'd be watching."

Now it was Grigori's turn to be on the back foot. He avoided her gaze and answered too quickly for it to be truthful, "He was injured."

"LIES! And more lies! I will not let you endanger his life again Grigori," yelled Hetty as she approached him menacingly, "Why NOW?"

"Compose yourself Hetty…sit and I will tell you but you must promise to let me finish what I have begun…please," said Grigori. His tone and body language so subdued and calm, almost like a man condemned to death, like he had nothing to lose.

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Hades had emerged. USA. Los Angeles. Specific whereabouts still being calibrated. Next update 4:00 hours.

The email read.

The recipient closed the email, content with the message because this was the endgame.

"Jean…have the jet ready to leave asap. Destination Los Angeles. Cloak arrival," ordered the voice.

"Yes sir," Jean replied, "How long will you be gone for sir?"

"A week at most. Pack light," he finished.

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