A.N.: Don't be shy! I'll be more than happy if you let me know what do you think of this story. Thank you as always for reading and for being there for soooo long!

Chapter 52

Next day Sam woke up early, definitely his back didn't agree with the damn couch on his living room. He was resolute to come back to work as soon as possible because he couldn't stand the idea of being alone in his house without Michelle and the kids. Last afternoon for a first time in his life he wasn't in a hurry to get out of the airport. He knew nobody was waiting for him at home and that fact was taking him down. He was conscious that life was hard; he had dealt so many times with the worst of humanity that he knew first hand, but never like that. Each time he came back to L.A. from a terrible mission, each time he was injured or simply sad, he could rely on something: a true home filled with the laughs of two wonderful and funny kids and the love, support, understanding and caring of Michelle. Without all that he had nothing but his job and nobody would prevent him from being in the field doing what he had to do to carry on with his life. At seven a.m. he was already in the office.

- "Good afternoon G!"- saluted Sam when Callen entered the bull pen.

- "Afternoon? nine thirty in the morning!" - he said looking at his phone.

- "If I didn't know you I would say you were sleeping."

- "In fact I was sleeping."

- "Where is your watch?"

Callen looked sad at the recent pink scar on his wrist and sighed. Michelle… it seemed like an eternity ago. He couldn't go there. Not yet.

- "It blew up..."- he whispered.

- "Mr. Callen! Good afternoon!"- said Hetty approaching the two partners and making G roll his eyes.

- "Hello Hetty, I didn't know you were coming so soon."

- "Well, given the last developments I considered my presence here would be more appreciated than in the capital. And, what the heck, I was tired of that bunch of hypocrite politicians and cold rainy days. Can I have a word with you on my desk, please?"

- "Only if I can have a tea."- smiled G glad to have Hetty back.

- "What about a jasmine blue lagoon?"- she asked going to her space.

G was about to answer when out of the corner of his eye he saw his partner gliding on his chair apparently disappointed about something.

- "Lunch together, Sam?"

- "Yeah, why not?"

Trying to hide his limp G followed Hetty. The car trip hadn't gone as well as planed and after three hours driving he was hurting so bad that he couldn't continue anymore. Luckily he was able to hang in there until he found a motel where to crash for a while. He was really pissed off, the new injuries could postpone his return to active job and with Sam back he needed to be there for him, but even without Sam he couldn't compromise an operation like last time. He had been lucky, but luck didn't last. Feverish for the pain and the effort he barely managed to change the bandage on his shoulder, to take two aspirins and to put some ice on the knee, before collapsing in bed. Another terrible nightmare woke him up some hours later. It was about Michelle again, trying to say something that he couldn't hear because Khaled had his ears in his hands. The distress was so intense that he felt like crying and for a while he wasn't able to react. It has been a long time since nightmares did that to him, experience was the best teacher and he usually found the resources in his mind to avoid that haunted and spooky feeling once he awoke.

In spite of the rough start of the day and the painful change of bandages that let him shaky and weak he recalled the last day conversations with Sam's kids and his heart let him know that he did the right thing. They were amazing guys and he only had to make sure they would be ok which implied more than ever to protect Sam no matter what. Overall he felt better. At five in the morning, after a light breakfast and some coffee, he was ready to hit the road again and to deal with the terrible traffic jam of L.A. rush hour.

Hetty and G spent the next hours talking about what happened in Washington, the Machiavellian maneuvers and plans of the Secretary of Defense and his gang, the operation, the prisoners and the status they had, the next moves and the possible new strategies to follow concerning Washington. But G had other worries in his mind. Tired of the disgusting political shit he asked Hetty:

- "What about what I asked for? It's been more than a week."

- "For reasons beyond my control your request can't be granted yet."

- "Hetty is more than urgent now!"- he cried more than upset.

- "And I'm well aware of that Mr. Callen"- answered Hetty not expecting his reaction.

- "When?"- G's eyes were cold.

- "Another week, I'm afraid."

G's temper exploded, he got up pushing the chair abruptly and walked around trying to calm down.

- "How the hell I'm supposed to do my job, Hetty? I need more resources, there's no turning point now, don't you see it? this is war and I'll need new soldiers if I can't fix what I have."

- "Mr. Callen I know you're subjected to a lot of pressure, but I remember you that you caused this situation and, right now, your rage is not helping."

- "Now, it's me who don't help, as always." -he blurted out really hurt for Hetty's words.

There were not many things that could surprise Hetty, but she was surely taken aback by her pupil's subtle deterioration. Certainly he was trying his best to control every detail on his appearance: he was tidy, freshly shaved and stylish dressed. Casual conversation, cheeky smiles, he was for sure more than good, nevertheless she knew better. His movements weren't as fluid as they should be, the bandage on his eyebrow was bigger which indicated that the butterfly strips were gone for bad and even if he was more than good at dissimulating it, Hetty guessed a lesion in the leg, fortunately not a broken bone. He was the master at hiding pain and probably he had even a plausible answer if someone asked him about the marks of his teeth in his lower lip, the fact that he was using more his left hand than his right one, the unnatural parlor on his face or the now sadly habitual dark bags under his eyes. Something had happened during her absence and for his inappropriate remarks and his lack of perspective she doubted for once if that mission wasn't above of his possibilities and capacities. As he said the moment all this started, this was huge and accustomed to work alone or with a select group of people the operation was far beyond his comfort zone. And she felt guilty. Guilty of giving him wings and letting him know that he could do it when it was clear than the price was too high. Behind his explosions of rage it always was pain. She couldn't stand seeing him suffering and if it was time to short his leash, she would do it without a doubt, for his own good.