And, finally, the conclusion of Kensi's arc in Afghanistan.

Enjoy!

Season 5, Episode 19: Spoils of War

Hetty met them all when their plane landed, alone only because she had threatened Nell and Eric with their jobs if they didn't go home and get some sleep after the last few days. She also arranged for three additional drivers and vehicles, knowing perfectly well that her team would be beyond even their significant limits.

When the five of them met her on the tarmac, she let her gaze roam over them, assessing but also allowing her emotions to be visible to those who had been so very close to the edge.

"Owen," she said in a tone that had been known to cause lesser men to tremble, "go home." She pointed to where the drivers were waiting.

Owen Granger glared at her for an instant before he sighed and nodded. "Debrief in the morning."

"In the afternoon, Owen," she corrected, and he didn't dare speak against her. She waited until he was actually in the nearest car and the driver was moving before she looked back at the others.

"Mister Hanna, your wife is waiting for you." But she stepped in front of him and held out a hand. "And thank you."

He shook her hand and gave her a tired smile. "Every time, Hetty. Every time."

She nodded.

She let Sam say his farewells to the other three before he, too, vanished into a waiting car.

"Now," she said, looking at her remaining agents. "The rest of you have a choice." And she pinned them with a glare before any one of them, even Callen himself, could interrupt. "Miss Blye, I know you are exhausted, but you will be going to the hospital. That is not up for negotiation. However, you may choose whom you wish to accompany you between Mister Deeks, Mister Callen, and myself."

Hetty's heart broke a little more at the uncertainty and overwhelming fragility in Kensi's eyes. She also noted how Kensi was holding onto Deeks's hand.

"I…" she began.

"I got this," Deeks said, and he even managed a nearly passable smile at the others. "I'll go with her."

Kensi squeezed his hand and swallowed and her face gave way to relief, and Hetty was utterly certain she had no idea about any of it.

"Very well." She gestured to the last car. "Your driver has orders to wait for you at the hospital. Barring an overnight stay, he will also get you home safely."

There was a quirk in the eyes of Detective Deeks which told Hetty he was thoroughly aware of the possible implications of that. That he realized Hetty was giving him permission to take Kensi home, or to go home with her, to stay the night with her. That he understood that this was a gift and an intentional one.

"Thanks," Kensi said, low and clipped.

"Yeah," Deeks met Hetty's eyes and let them speak for him. "Thanks."

Without a word, Callen scooped up Deeks's gear — as he was already carrying Kensi's — and followed them to the car. He exchanged a few quiet words with them both as he got them settled, then returned to Hetty's side as their driver pulled away.

"So. What about me?"

She regarded him for a moment. "Owen tells me that you essentially led your team into a no-win situation. That, if not for Mister Deeks and his timely arrival, I would not be welcoming five agents home, but one...accompanying four coffins."

"Three," he said.

She raised an eyebrow.

"If Deeks hadn't come, Sam and Granger and I wouldn't have made it — but they would have taken Kensi into Pakistan." He let out a breath that sounded like it hurt. "You wouldn't have gotten her back at all. And that's assuming Deeks could even abandon her like that."

"Hmm." She nodded. "Was there truly no other way to retrieve Miss Blye? Or was your only option to imitate Custer's Last Stand, with nearly the same end?"

"Granger wanted to wait for reinforcements, but we didn't know if they could even find us. We didn't have a lot of time to make a decision."

She peered at him, seeing his defensiveness only as a layer easily penetrated to his true feelings.

"You would have died."

He shut his eyes for a brief moment and nodded.

"You and Sam with you."

His mouth worked, and his jaw tightened, but he didn't answer.

"Was it worth it, Mister Callen?" She took a step closer to him, never letting him look away from her eyes. "Were your probable deaths worth the risk you took to save Kensi's life?"

Sudden understanding lit up in his own eyes. "That's not the right question."

"Oh?"

"The right question is — was the risk to our lives worth the secret you kept when you sent Kensi out there in the first place?"

Hetty flinched, her chest suddenly gone cold. But she faced him squarely and answered, "No. If you had died, or Sam, or Owen, it would have been my doing. My unwillingness to tell Miss Blye why I sent her. My decision that led to her capture. My fault."

Callen nodded back at her. "So, really, we're both to blame. You got her into that mess, and I almost couldn't get her out. They're our team, right? So this one is on both of us."

"Very few people will see it that way, Mister Callen."

"Since when have I ever cared what anybody else thought?" he returned. "As far as I'm concerned, the only thing we can do now is deal with where we are. And, no matter what shape we're in, we're here."

Hetty found herself able to manage a tiny sliver of a smile at that boy who was so loyal and irrepressible even after a mission that could have been his last.

"But that doesn't tell me why we're still standing here and there's no car for me," he added with a bit of a familiar smirk.

"Tonight, you're coming home with me." She gave a slight shake of her head. "You're not the only one who almost lost their family on this one, Mister Callen. And while I am...surpassingly glad to have you all safe…"

He took the last steps forward between them and held out a hand. When she accepted it, he bent so he could meet her gaze more evenly.

"I'm sorry for worrying you, Hetty."

"Worrying doesn't begin to describe it," she said, and she meant it to be exasperated and mocking, but it came out small and much more sincere than intended.

"I wish I could say I wouldn't do it again…"

"Don't make promises you have no intention of keeping," she said. She squeezed his hand between both of her own. "Especially not to me."

He swallowed. "Then I won't. But I'll promise you one thing."

She raised an eyebrow.

"If we ever have to do this again, if you keep something from us like this and we barely make it back — even if it is your fault, I'll still remind you why it's not your fault."

"That doesn't make any sense, Mister Callen."

"Sure it does," and the smirk on his face was looking more comfortable again. "Because you did the best you could to protect the people you swore to protect. You're the one who taught me that sometimes you have to make the best of a lot of bad options, and you can only work with what you can do with them. You sent Kensi there to save an innocent life, and you didn't tell her because you didn't want it to get her killed."

"And it could have gotten you all killed instead."

"But it didn't." He folded his other hand around both of hers. "And next time maybe you'll do things differently, but maybe you won't."

She glanced away.

"Hetty." He waited until she looked back into his face. "I know, I know how bad this could have gone. For all of us. But even if it happens again...I'm still going to trust you to do the best you can. And that's enough for me."

"Oh, Mister Callen." She shook her head. "But will it be enough for the rest of your team?"

"Sure it will." And he made a real smile. "Because they trust you, too."

She almost whispered, "Even if my best intentions lead them straight into hell?"

"Even then." He straightened up, releasing her hands. "Now, this seems like the kind of conversation that should be accompanied by some tea, right?"

She let out a breath, shaking her head not at his suggestion, but at his easy forgiveness of her errors which could have cost his entire team their lives. At his ridiculous, unending faith in her and her judgement and her wisdom.

"Come on, Hetty. I could really use some tea after this week."

How could she deny him anything? How could she even consider it when he was here, safe and unhurt, when he had returned not just to LA, but to her, when he was still hers even after, once again, her secrets could have cost them everything?

But he was here. They were all here. None of them were dead on the side of a mountain in Afghanistan. None of them were resigning, or calling for a transfer. None of them had even hesitated to put themselves under her command tonight, though her only command was for them to rest and heal.

Once again, her family was bruised and torn, hurt and vulnerable — but they were not broken.

And the only thing to do now was to patch them up, in every way, and go forward.

She met his smile and managed to return it, albeit a little shakily.

"Some tea it is," she said, "and perhaps something stronger."

He actually shrugged as he fell into step beside her. "I dunno if I need anything stronger."

At her raised eyebrow, he grinned.

"After all, I've got you."