A CODE TO LIVE BY
by MioneAlterEgo
DISCLAIMER: If they were mine, there'd be Nallen snogging. A LOT of Nallen snogging. Densi, too. In fact, they'd probably have to move the whole show to a later time slot. Or just straight onto one of the premium cable channels. Maybe both. So... no. They're not mine.
AUTHOR'S NOTES: Thank you, awesome readers, for your continued support of this story! It never fails to make my day to see Reviews and Alerts pop up in the ol' Inbox! Thanks also to my girls, Mel (imahistorian) and Angela (Angela6257), for their unfailing encouragement, their invaluable insight, and their general level of all-around awesomeness. Thanks, ladies.
This installment is first-person Eric POV, examining how he might see the situation with Nell and Callen. As always, I'd be curious to know your thoughts. Hope you enjoy this week's chapter!
TEAMWORK
I hate seeing her like this.
We may have started on tense terms when she first came to NCIS, but since then things have changed completely. She's my partner, my right arm, practically my best friend. I can't imagine doing this job without her there to back me up.
I'm not so great with people. Interacting with them, I mean. I never really know what to say or do when they're having a problem. And I REALLY don't know what to do with crying women.
Someone needs to write a book about that. How to Handle Crying Women. Boom, guaranteed best seller. I think anyone with a Y-chromosome would read it, because it seems like we're all pretty clueless about that kind of thing. The only thing I DO know about crying women (this one, at least) is that I hate seeing her cry and I wish I could do something to help.
Her eyes are rimmed red and she's staring vacantly at a spot on the floor as we sit on the hard plastic chairs in the waiting room of California Hospital Medical Center's ER. We both saw the explosion when it happened, captured on the ubiquitous traffic cams and displayed in full-screen Technicolor on the monitors in Ops. Callen and Sam were both taken to the hospital in ambulances. The chatter on the emergency frequency scanner was that Callen had sustained a head injury of undetermined severity and moderate to severe blunt force trauma to the torso, and was unconscious on the way to the ER. Sam had been farther away from the blast, so his injuries were similar but less severe. Nell was a pro. She kept working, looking up information, firing off addresses and statistics, relaying data back to Kensi and Deeks in the field. But as soon as the guys arrived at the hospital and we lost the information feed from the EMT's radios, her typing got significantly slower and she didn't say another word. I could see shiny tracks down her cheeks where silent tears were leaking out. As much as it stresses me out to see any of the team get injured like that, it's got to be that much worse when one of those people is someone you have feelings for. Someone you love.
It's kind of weird to say that.
I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little disappointed or jealous or whatever when she first told me she and Callen were seeing one another. But I eventually got over it when I realized how happy he makes her. Anyone with two working brain cells can tell they're crazy for each other. Nell just sort of lights up when he walks into the room, and Callen stands up a little straighter when she's around. They almost have a magnet thing going on—wherever one of them is, the other somehow gravitates toward them even if they never touch. It's disgustingly sweet, actually, and so whatever my feelings for her might have been in the past it's hard to begrudge my friend something that makes her so obviously, blatantly happy.
Except that she's not happy right now. Right now, she's trying not to cry. God, I wish I could do something.
We know he's out of surgery but still in the ICU. Hetty is still listed as his next-of-kin (his "aunt" I think), so she's been the only one allowed back to see him. We're both a bit surprised when she steps out into the waiting area and waves for Nell to come to the door.
"Nell, dear, could you come here, please?"
We both rise, and I follow her across the room to where Hetty is waiting by the ICU nurses' station.
"Nell, this is Nurse Gardner," Hetty begins, indicating a tall brunette in green scrubs before turning her attention back to Nell. "It's quite all right, dear, we've fixed the mix-up in the paperwork and you're welcome to go back and see him now. Nurse Gardner, if you wouldn't mind showing Mrs. Callen back to her husband's room?"
Except for her eyes widening a bit, Nell never gives any indication of surprise nor contradiction to the story Hetty has just told. She just nods a little, whispers "thanks, Hetty," and follows the nurse back through the double doors and down the hallway.
Once the two are out of sight, Hetty gestures toward the seating area. I take a chair next to her, still not sure what to make of the whole exchange. Mrs. Callen? Am I really that oblivious or did she just… Right as I make up my mind to ask, she speaks.
"In our profession, Mr. Beale, a certain willingness to bend the truth is sometimes a requirement of the job. I dislike doing so when it's not strictly necessary, but in this particular instance no harm is done. Besides, I suspect that when he wakes Mr. Callen would much rather see her face sitting vigil at his bedside than mine."
I nod in acknowledgment before settling back into my seat. I'm not exactly sure how much she knows about Callen's past or what role she might have played in it, but I know she feels an added sense of responsibility toward him, even more than she does for the rest of her agents. If she was going to "bend the truth" for anyone, it would be him. She seems to have a soft spot for Nell, too, so I guess I shouldn't really be surprised she's so willing to break rules when it helps both of them at the same time.
After about an hour, Hetty excuses herself to return to the Mission. About thirty minutes after that, Kensi and Deeks walk into the waiting area. Finally, about four hours after my arrival at the hospital, we're escorted back to Sam and Callen's adjacent recovery rooms. Since Sam is awake and alert Kensi and Deeks go to check on him first. I walk past them to the next room to check on Nell and Callen.
Even after all this time, it still throws me a little to see any of the agents—my friends—hooked up to breathing tubes and heart monitors and IV pumps. I guess it knocks the reality of what we do a little too close to home for my comfort. Callen seems to be asleep, but he must have woken up at some point because Nell isn't sitting in the chair next to the bed, she's actually lying on the bed with him, his arms holding her in a loose embrace as he rests. I slip quietly into the room and take a chair opposite where she's lying with her head on his shoulder.
"How's he feeling?"
"Tired," she whispers. "Drugged. He's going to be in pain for a few weeks, but there's nothing life-threatening. They got the internal bleeding stopped. He's got several cracked ribs, two hairline fractures on his vertebrae, and some pretty incredible bruises."
"Good. I mean, not good that he's hurt, but I'm glad he's going to be alright."
"Me, too." A shadow passes across her face. "I have to get back to the Mission."
"What? Why?"
"I never finished backstopping Deeks' alias for the Ochoa case. If the DEA decides they want to move on that, it needs to be ready to go."
Finally, I something I can do. "You stay here. I can take care of the backstopping. Your husband will want to see you when he wakes back up, Mrs. Callen."
She cringes but can't quite bite back a smile. "I can't believe Hetty said that. I mean, I'm glad she did, but… Anyway, no, I'll go. I couldn't ask you to do my work for me."
"You didn't ask. I offered. You can pay me back later, partner."
This time, the smile reaches all the way to her eyes. "Thanks, buddy."
"No problem. Text me and let me know how he's doing."
"I will."
As I step back into the brighter lights of the hallway, I can't help feel that a little bit of weight has been lifted. I can't fix Callen for her, but it's nice to be able to do something to help.