Season 1, Episode 14: LD50

Thinking of his conversation with Hetty over tea, G threw back the blanket from the couch and pushed himself up to a sitting position. Everyone was gone, and he should have been sleeping – instincts about resting when he could were still strong, of course – but something was bothering him.

"So, when the time comes, as you put it, there's something you can do. You can smother me with a pillow."

Cold bile dumped into his stomach at the very thought.

But G Callen owed Hetty literally everything. And he could imagine nothing worse for himself, either, than betraying what he had bled and killed for. If it was him, if his mind was going, he would ask for the same. He would beg anyone he could trust to keep him from committing treason at the end.

He ambled over to Hetty's office.

There was a piece of paper on her desk that hadn't been there before.

"I meant every word."

G's hand started to shake as he plucked a pen from Hetty's desk.

It was dark – that must be the reason his handwriting was so uncertain as he wrote in the blank space below her pristine, steady script.

"I promise."

The instant he finished writing the words, he felt cold and shaky, almost like he was going into shock.

I wonder what Nate would make of that.

Callen decided he didn't really need to sleep after all, and took himself off to the gym.

Four hours of hard work later, he was too tired even to crawl back to his couch to sleep. He managed to shower and get dressed in his spare set of workout clothes off before he laid down on his stomach on a bench in the locker room and fell asleep.

"Ahem."

G blinked, sore, and only avoided rolling off the bench to crash on the floor by a sudden steadying hand on his side. He flopped his head over, though he didn't need to see to know who had woken him.

"Hetty?"

The lines of her favorite tan suit were crisp and even. "As a general rule, I admire your ability to sleep anywhere, Mister Callen, but I believe this may be pushing it."

He was stiff and uncomfortable and his muscles were screaming, but the only thing he managed to say was, "Are you really supposed to be in here?"

She gave him a pitying look over her glasses. "This is my building, Mister Callen. I can be wherever I please. It's hardly the first men's room I've set foot in."

He couldn't come up with a good response for that. He managed to push himself up and get to his feet without losing too much dignity, and he was grateful he'd actually slipped back into his sweatpants – he did not have the brain power to worry about dropping a towel on top of everything else.

"Mister Callen." Hetty's hands were loose at her sides, and she looked as put together as ever, but there was something in her eyes he didn't recognize. "I believe neither one of us slept particularly well last night."

"What was your first clue?"

She let that slide. "I don't know if it will ease your mind any, but nonetheless."

She held out a hand.

G accepted it, sensing the gravity of the situation in her grip on his fingers.

"Should it be needed, I would thank you to make my end painless and without compromising national security. It is not an easy thing I ask of you." She never looked away from him, but she did pause to swallow. "It is something I ask only because there are precious few others I could trust with such an act."

He felt like the breath had been taken from his very chest. "I...I know."

"But I give you my word." And the steel was back in her eyes. "If I have any say over it, I will do the job for you myself. Not out of despair, but because I never wish to put you in that position. However, it is always wise to have contingencies in place."

Callen shut his eyes and squeezed her hand too tight. He just couldn't stand her casual comfort with the entire topic. Even if it made sense. Even if it was logical. He just couldn't. "Don't. Please." He almost choked on the words. "I...I would rather…"

"Rather place your sword on my throat than find me having done so myself?" Her words were soft and very warm. "Thank you, my boy. But still. Let an old woman have her dignity and her right to choose, even at the end."

G forced himself to open his eyes. "But...if you can't choose anymore…"

"Then I ask you to keep your promise, Mister Callen."

G just didn't know how it was so easy for her to say, so easy for her to ask of him. Her gaze was steady and her grip unwavering.

She was so much stronger than he would ever be.

All he could do was nod.

Hetty tugged on his hand and Callen bent down. To his surprise, she gripped his shoulder and gave him a half-hug.

"You are a braver man than you know, G Callen. And I am so very proud of you."

G closed his eyes and leaned his forehead on her shoulder. "Don't...don't let it happen any time soon. Okay, Hetty?"

"Oh, Mister Callen. Have no fear. You've many more years to wish to strangle me before it becomes a risk." And she put an arm around his head.

Callen could count the number of times she had actually held him in her arms off the top of his head. Even fewer was the number of times he had held her back.

This morning, with pre-dawn light filtering in the smoky windows above, he wrapped his arms around her and held on as if he would never let go.

He couldn't tell her he would never be ready for such a thing to happen.

He couldn't tell her he would never forgive himself if he had to do it, that he might not be able to keep from eating his gun if it came to that.

He couldn't tell her a word about the roiling feelings swamping his heart.

Hetty held him, and he knew she heard it all anyway.