Hetty and the Nate entered the house. "You have a lot of explaining to do, Mr. Callen. Come with me. Show me a place where we can talk."
He swallowed hard hearing the drawl in her voice. Callen lead her to a library near the back of the house.
"Sit, Mr. Callen." Hetty remained standing.
Callen refused to sit knowing he maintained more psychological power while standing.
"Not happening, Mr. Callen. Must I ask for Mr. Hanna to come in here and put you in your place?"
He sat down on a burgundy, leather couch facing heavy oak, built-in bookshelves.
"Mr. Callen please explain yourself."
"I'm not doing that any more."
"That?"
"Crap at Sam's place."
"I see, Mr. Callen. Do you want Nate to finish the job here?"
"What? Hell no!"
"Then what?"
"I'm not doing it at all."
"Like hell you're not. I want, no, need those passwords."
"Not happening, Hetty."
She left the library.
Callen inched out into the hallway and took the back stairs to the upper level. He could hear them searching for him on the lower level. Sam's voice on his level was unexpected. He tucked himself further back into the eave closet and started shaking. He willed his body to stop but it didn't work. After feeling for his gun, Callen remembered he gave it over to his partner. Damn it. He crouched lower and stilled his breathing.
"G, stop playing games. Where are you, man? Hetty is livid."
Livid is not good. He imagined her tying him to the bed frame in the master bedroom. He cringed.
"G?"
He shivered, flashes of memories flooding his brain.
"G, talk to me." He entered the master bedroom and listened. Soft breathing. Sam opened the eave closet, his gun drawn. No need to throw caution to the wind. He didn't know what state of mind his partner was in. "Crawl out on your hands and knees."
"You don't have to be mean about it," Callen said when saw the gun in his partner's hand.
"I'm not being mean, G. Lay face down, hands behind your head."
"No, don't do this, Sam."
"Hetty's orders, G, sorry."
He stayed in his kneeled position.
"G, I am warning you. Don't make this unpleasant for yourself."
Callen laid down on the carpet, trembling.
"Hands behind your head."
"What… are you going to do to me?"
"Do it, G, you're trying my patience." Sam straddled his partner and holstered his gun. "Do it or I will."
"I can't, please don't do this."
He grabbed his partner's wrists and placed them on his head. "Stay. He's up here in the master bedroom, second door on the left." Sam yelled.
"Bastard! Get off me!" Callen pressed his back upward and kicked his legs. "Don't let them get me, please, Sam, please."
"You did this to yourself, G."
"There you are, Mr. Callen. We had not finished talking."
"I'm through talking with you. Stay away from me." Callen shuddered seeing her inch closer to him. It was her. He was damned sure. From this point of view, the shoes were familiar. He shuddered.
"I need him on the bed," Nate said.
"Not a problem." Sam got to his feet and pulled his partner up with him.
Callen twisted his body in Sam's hold, yanked his partner's weapon out of its holster and pointed it at his abdomen. "Back off and let me go." He cocked the hammer. "All of you, out of here."
Sam backed away. "G, what's going on in that head of yours?"
"What's going on? What do you think? I'm not going back to your place."
"Something else is going on, G."
"Nothing else. Get the hell out of my house, all of you."
"That's not happening, Mr. Callen. Calm yourself and talk to us about what you are feeling."
"Right, I'm not stupid, get me talking and then jump me." He backed up a foot.
"Mr. Callen, please hand over the gun."
"Never to you, never." He backed up until his thighs touched his four poster bed. "Get out."
Hetty eyed Sam.
"I know that look."
"Nate please leave the room for now," she said.
He backed into the hallway, black bag in his hand.
"If you won't hand it over to me then give it to Mr. Hanna."
He shook his head.
"G, let's do this again. Put the gun—"
"Fuck you! Get out!"
"Calm down, Mr. Callen."
"Calm down? What the hell for? So you can rape me? So you can tie me to that… contraption? So you can make me suck your cocks? Is that what you want? Well, screw you!"
"I can assure you I have no desire to assault you in that manner, Mr. Callen."
"Yeah, but you do in others, isn't that right? Never slap an agent, my ass. You're a damned liar. The bruise on my face proves that. Your nails marks on my face prove that. You think that will make me obey you? Huh? You bitch!"
Sam tackled his partner, the gun went flying through the air and fired off a round. He wrestled him to the carpet, straddling him again and securing his hands behind his back with handcuffs. "Anyone hit?"
"No," Hetty said, leaning over and retrieving the gun.
"Bastard! You damned bastard."
"That I am right now, G. Don't fight this."
"Take these off. I'm not a criminal."
"You're acting like one, G, taking my gun and threatening us with it."
"Screw you," he said, turning his head to try and spit at his partner.
"Do I need to tape your mouth shut, Mr. Callen? I will have none of that behavior."
"What am I supposed to use as a defense then?"
"Nothing, Mr. Callen. Stop fighting us. It's happening, period. Nate."
He limped into the bedroom.
"Where are you hurt, Nate?"
"My pride. When I heard the gun fire I tried to get out of its range and tripped on my own two feet."
"Well, at least you are not shot. Please get Mr. Callen comfortable." Hetty tucked Sam's gun into her pants' front and left.
"You bitch! How dare you do this to me? Take these off me."
"You lost your privileges, G." He climbed off his partner and lifted him to his feet by his cuffed arms. "Still want him on the bed?"
"That would make this easier," Nate said.
Sam wrestled him onto the bed. "Stop kicking me, G, I'm warning you, you're playing with fire."
"I don't care. What are going to do with me?" he said, staring at Nate's bag.
"Looks as if I'll be starting another IV. When did you take this one out?"
"Screw you!" He spat in Nate's direction.
Sam grabbed his partner's short hair and pressed his face into the bedspread.
"Can't breathe."
"Agree to stop spitting and I'll release you."
He shook his head.
"Suit yourself, G." He pressed his head further into the mattress.
"What the hell are you trying to do to me?" Callen said his voice muffled.
"Make you pass out."
He kicked his legs trying to free himself.
"Just let it happen, G, because I'm not letting you go until you pass out or the medicine takes over your brain."
"Please, don't do this to me, Sam, please."
"Promise you won't spit any more."
"Can't do that."
Nate finished getting the IV into Callen's arm. "This will stop his struggling and spitting soon." He injected the antipsychotic medication and a tranquilizer into the IV port.
"What the hell did you give me?" Callen asked his speech now both muffled and slurred.
Sam eased up on his partner's head.
Callen relaxed and turned his face, his eyes closing.
"Good, Callen, let's get you downstairs."
"You're going to rape me?" He squeaked out with a stressed voice.
"What?" Nate's jaw dropped.
"That's why you drugged me, right?"
"No." Nate put away the syringes and intravenous supplies.
Sam climbed off the bed and dragged his now drugged and relaxed partner off the bed. "Much better, G."
"You like me when I'm complaint and easy to fuck?"
"G, I'm not the enemy. You pulled a gun twice. You took my gun and threatened us. No one's fucking you. As I see it you fucked with us. Got it?" He looped his arm into one of Callen's cuffed one's and steered him toward the hallway.