Callen pulled up in front of Rickman's rental house a few minutes later, his grip on the steering wheel was the only thing keeping his hands from shaking. As Callen got out of the car, his cell buzzed in his pocket. He took it out to see Emily's face on the screen before leaving it on the driver's seat and walking up to the front door.
Rickman's beat up truck was in the driveway and Callen could hear the TV on in the front room. Rickman must not know that anyone was after him. After all, he wasn't making much of an effort to hide. Callen didn't bother knocking. Instead he turned the door knob and smiled to himself when the wooden door clicked open. Gun drawn, Callen walked in. Seeing no one in the living room, the agent began a quick search throughout the rest of the house. The agent entered the last room, the office, and felt a wave of nausea rush over him. On the far wall, there was a peg board full of pictures of little kids. Looking closer, Callen could see that some were taken at a distance and then there were some of those same kids back at Rickman's house. It seemed that Rickman had expanded his abuse to other kids, not just the foster children placed under his care.
Callen scanned over some of the pictures, some he recognized as missing. His eyes rested on one image in particular, a picture of a little boy getting off of a school bus. Spiderman backpack in tow, the little boy seemed to be running to meet a group of friends. Callen couldn't take his eyes off the photo.
"Such a pretty little boy." A man's raspy voice drew him away from the wall.
Callen turned to face the older man. "Richards. Or should I say Rickman?" He said with a scowl.
"He looks exactly like you, you know." Rickman laughed. "That's why I noticed him at first. It was like I was looking at a young G Callen. And I knew he must be yours."
Callen turned once more to look at the photo on the wall. Aiden. This sick, masochistic man had been watching Aiden. He wanted to do what he had done to Callen, to his son. The thought was too much for him to bear.
"You will never lay a finger on my son!" Callen screamed as he raised the gun that had been resting in his hand.
If Rickman was surprised he didn't show it. Instead he said "You're not going to shoot me. You didn't have the guts when you were twelve and you don't have them now."
Callen briefly remembered the events that had led to his departure from Rickman's house.
Rickman was passed out drunk on the couch in the living room. Callen was watching him from a chair, Rickman's silver pistol in his hand. The older man had forgotten to lock the gun up that night and Callen had seized the opportunity. Callen waited and waited until finally the older man woke up. Seeing the gun in Callen's hand, Rickman merely smiled and said "You aren't going to shoot me."
He was right. No matter how much Callen wanted Rickman dead, he just couldn't do it. A week later, G was in another foster home, this time with a record of violence.
Callen blinked to clear the rushing thoughts from his mind. He wasn't that scared little boy any more. No, this time Callen didn't hesitate. He even smiled as Rickman dropped to the floor, a bullet hole in his head and a surprised look on his face.
Emily and Sam rushed in the room, guns drawn, just in time to see Callen shoot Rickman's lifeless body a second and third time. Emily walked around to Callen and put her hand on his arm. Her touch seemed to pull him out of his trance-like state and he lowered the gun.
"I had to." Callen whispered. "He wanted to hurt Aiden. He had pictures of Aiden. I couldn't let him go."
Emily said nothing but motioned for Sam to report back to Hetty.
Callen seemed unable to tear his eyes away from the lifeless body on the floor. He thought killing Rickman would make him feel better. It didn't. Rickman had won. He had made Callen into a monster, something that the agent promised himself he would never become.
Callen let himself fall back against the wall and then slid down onto the floor. Why did everything in his life seem to end like this?
"I don't know what happened. I was just so mad." Callen said with his head in his hands. He couldn't bear to look at Emily and see the horror that he was sure would be evident in her eyes. "It wasn't even self defense. I murdered him."
Emily didn't speak for a while as if contemplating what to say. "It's okay Callen. He was threatening your family. You did what you had to."
"I don't know what's wrong with me Emily. I keep having these flashbacks. I can't even think anymore. I just act on impulse. It's scaring me. I'm afraid of what I might do."
It was probably the most candid Callen had ever been about what was going on in his mind and it caught Emily off guard. Too be honest, it scared her too. She was seeing pieces of Callen slip away and she didn't know if he would ever be the same.
Callen needed help. He had to get rid of the demons that had been with him since he was a boy. Because if he didn't, Emily would lose him forever. She just hoped he wasn't too far gone.
Sorry that this took so long but I hope you enjoyed it! Comments/suggestions welcome and don't forget to review! Thanks!