Endure and Prevail
Chapter 8

If he allowed himself to think about it - which he didn't - he would admit that the painkillers barely took the edge off of the pain throbbing through him. Shifting carefully, Callen tried to find a more comfortable position on the couch. He was in pain and he was still feeling cold despite the blanket covering him. Why couldn't he just get warm?

Sighing, he drew the blanket further up to his chin, curling up as much as possible considering his injuries to conserve body heat. Looking up when he heard soft footsteps approach, he watched as Michelle came into view.

"Thought you might be asleep," she told him softly once she stopped next to the couch.

"Have been dozing on and off," Callen muttered, resisting the urge to shrug.

Michelle glanced at the spot on the couch in front of him, her eyes coming back up to him moments later. He nodded at the silent question, making a little more room for her by shifting backwards. Sitting down, she watched him closely. "How are you doing?"

A loaded question if he had ever heard one. Plus, he wasn't actually sure how to answer it, wasn't actually sure he would even be able to answer it at all. "Can't seem to get warm," he muttered instead, complaining about that which had been at the forefront of his mind when Michelle's appearance had interrupted his musing.

Her eyebrows drew together. "Running a fever?" she asked, worry coloring her voice.

"Don't think so," Callen denied, but frowned, being reminded of his earlier thoughts about knowing his limits and having been pushed past them over the last few months.

"You mind if I check?" She asked mildly. Only when he nodded his permission did she slowly reach for him. The back of her hand made contact with his forehead and for some reason that touch got to him. His eyes fell closed and he allowed himself to cherish it. Hers was a mother's touch, something he didn't know well, had lost too early in his life, but right now, this kind of touch soothed the broken pieces of his mind. She was a woman that could give any of them a run for their money, tough as nails, and yet there was the soothing quality of a mother's care in her. He usually didn't allow himself to enjoy it, not even when he had been injured and recuperating at the Hanna household before. Right in this moment though, his whole being hungered for a gentle touch.

Her fingers lingered and he didn't retreat, secretly glad when she didn't either.

"Doesn't feel like you have a temperature," she murmured, agreeing with his assessment, her fingers still lightly tracing over his forehead.

"I just feel like I can't get rid of the cold. I've been so cold for the last few months," he whispered, not opening his eyes, not wanting to see her expression upon that tidbit of information, or seeing the worry and the sympathy in her eyes.

"Rest, G," she told him softly. She rarely used his initial as Sam did, too used to calling him Callen. That she used it now let him know she was keeping a tight rein on her emotions to support and comfort him, "rest. You'll be warm again."

He allowed himself to smile upon her words, knowing what she intended and hearing the double meaning. It would be alright eventually. He was on his way home and he was not alone anymore. He would be ok.

Xxxxxxx

He had declined going to the last vacant bedroom, felt better for being in the middle of things in the living room. While he usually went out of his way to seek out a solitary lifestyle, right now, being alone didn't hold an appeal to Callen. He'd been alone for a long time recently.

He was glad for the conversations around him, sometimes including him, sometimes being background noise when he was dozing or sleeping.

Blinking his eyes open when his name was called, Callen searched for the voice's owner, finding Deeks in the doorway. "Kensi and I will make another supply run. Anything in particular that you want?"

"A hoody." The words were out of his moth before he could swallow them back down, the filter between his brain and his mouth still in hibernation.

Deeks blinked slowly. "Ok," he stated, but the way he stretched the word clearly showed his confusion.

Callen nodded towards where the discarded piece of clothing hung over the back of the easy chair. It had been tempting him since he had spied it, but getting into it had been bad last night when he had been completely out of it and more or less numb to the pain crashing through him. Now that he was more awake and the pain was not dulled by fatigue or ignorance anymore, he doubted he would be attempting the hoody any time soon.

Following his direction, Deeks glanced at his hoody. "You can keep it," he told the other man with a frown.

"Too hard to get into," Callen groused, "shoulder is a mess."

"Don't ask how we got him out of it last night," Sam shook his head, passing Deeks on his way into the room, obviously having caught part of their conversation. His eyes sought out Callen's form on the couch, giving him a brief once over. "So a hoody wouldn't exactly do you any good."

"No, but a sweat jacket would," Michelle said, following her husband into the living room and heading over to Callen, giving him a small smile, "something warm. Similar to your hoody, Deeks," she said, reaching for the item in question and throwing it over to Deeks. She gave Callen a wink when she glanced back at him.

He gave her a small nod and a smile of appreciation. Out of all of them, only Michelle had the knowledge of why he asked for a hoody.

Deeks caught the hoody and shrugged. "Alright, we'll see what we can find," he agreed easily. This was just one of the instances when Callen cherished Deeks' presence on the team… he often just rolled with the punches and didn't question motives. If the situation warranted it, Deeks could argue and question with the best of them, but if it was small and innocent enough, he would simply do as he was asked. Now was such an incident.

Xxxxxxx

With Deeks and Kensi out of the house, both Sam and Michelle returned their focus to Callen and his collection of wounds. He again decided resistance was futile and instead simply allowed them to check the work they'd done last night.

"So, how bad is it?" Callen asked mildly, when Michelle soothed some cream over the slashes on his back. They felt bad, spanning over his whole back, stretching painfully when he moved and itching where they healed.

"Well, they aren't infected, which is good. Compared to yesterday, they have also stopped bleeding," Sam told him, looking on and handing Michelle whatever she required.

Callen nodded slowly, "wasn't sure if they had," he muttered.

"You haven't been moving as much since we last checked on them. That will help with keeping them closed," Michelle said softly. "How's the rest of you doing?"

"I'll tell you, once I figure it out," he replied evenly. "The pain is a constant, despite the painkillers. That's ok, though. The knee feels somewhat better. I think the swelling might have gone down a bit." They had iced it frequently since he had woken in the morning. "Trying not to think about the rest too much."

"We could try to adjust the dose of painkillers," Sam suggested, though judging from his expression, he already anticipated being rebuffed.

"No, it's ok," Callen declined, holding back on muttering that he was used to the pain and could take it. He didn't want a higher dose of painkillers making him woozy and unable to wake up from the nightmares and memories that snuck up on him. He was glad when Sam didn't put up an argument, gave his best friend a smile of thanks when he wordlessly backed down.

Xxxxxxx

The second night at the apartment was disrupted by frequent nightmares. Callen jerked himself awake more times than he wanted to admit, finding one or another of his friends close by, hovering but not touching. Feeling better physically due to having rested during the day - and no new wounds having been inflicted upon him - allowed the memories to crowd into his sleep more easily. He had expected it, knew it would take time before he could force these memories away, put them into a box, lock it, sink it on the bottom of the ocean and forget that it was there.

And that was even ignoring the knowledge of the burn mark on his chest that would serve as a visual reminder of his captivity and supposed possession of Ivan Abramov. That mark still sometimes burned like hellfire despite it having healed weeks ago… or rather having been allowed to heal. The burn lines had been aggravated repeatedly by his captors' henchmen at first to make them more prominent and less prone to fade. Considering the conditions he had been kept under, it was probably a miracle that the wound - and all the others he had sustained - hadn't become severely infected.

Trying to calm his breathing after waking up from another nightmare/flashback, he carefully shifted into a sitting position before getting up, waving Kensi back when she moved as if to come forward and help him. "I've got it, Kens," he murmured, standing slowly and only setting out towards the kitchenette once he was stable on his feet.

Pouring himself a glass of water, he took several large swallows before refilling it and then sipping more slowly, watching his reflection in the window.

His eyes focused on movement outside and he felt adrenaline flood his body before he recognized the shaggy hair. "How is it he has never been spotted with that blonde hair of his during the night?" he questioned softly.

Kensi appeared behind him, not close enough to crowd into his personal space, but close enough to glance over his shoulder, "he would probably tell you some bullshit about it being a natural gift."

"What? The hair or not being spotted?" Callen shot back with a grin.

"Knowing Deeks… probably both," Kensi's reflection grinned back at him. A few moments later, the laughter left her face and she watched him closely. "You ok, Callen?" she asked carefully.

He met her eyes in the window once more before shaking his head and letting it drop, "no, I'm not, Kens," he admitted tonelessly, barely breaking the quiet of the room, "I haven't been for a long time. I will be though… eventually." A few days ago, he had been so far from being ok it hadn't even been funny anymore. Now, he figured, he was better. Not good, but better at least.

"You know we're all here for you, right?" she asked back in the same quiet tone of voice.

Callen put the glass down and turned slowly, leaning against the kitchen counter. "Yeah, I know and that helps a great deal," he said gently, reaching out and tucking a strand of lose hair behind her ear. Carefully tangling his fingers in the hair on the back of her head, he drew her forward and against him, his eyes closing when she came willingly, carefully settling against him. He drew reassurance from her as she seemed to do from him. The young agent he had helped shape had grown up a lot over the years, but he could sense an anxiety in her now. Having been more clearheaded after resting, he had seen anxiety in all of them. Something had shifted in this group of people since he had been taken away. They seemed closer, but there was an energy around them that suggested that none of them had fared well. He felt humbled by the thought that his presence meant so much to them that his absence could have this much of an impact.

Xxxxxxxx

Callen woke to Sam talking quietly somewhere close by. Not hearing another side of the conversation, he guessed that his partner was on the phone… probably with Hetty and the wonder twins.

He stretched carefully, mindful of his injuries. He had obviously been able to get some more sleep after his brief conversation with Kensi in the middle of the night. He had been prepared to tossing and turning and even more nightmares, but for some reason, he had managed a few more hours of solid sleep.

"G?" Sam asked, closer than he had heard him before.

Opening his eyes and looking at his partner, Callen gave him a questioning glance.

Sam held up the cell phone. "Hetty," he said simply, question and statement both.

Giving Sam a smile, he nodded. Before he reached for the phone though, he carefully sat up, briefly reaching for his ribs that complained at the move. Only when he had his breath back, did he take the offered phone from his partner. "Hetty?" he asked calmly. He hadn't talked to her since before meeting up with the team, had been asleep during the phone calls that had been made the day before.

"Mr. Callen, it's good to hear your voice," his old mentor told him.

He could hear the barely hidden emotion in her tone. Smiling, he carefully leaned back into the couch. "It's good to hear you as well. What are our next steps?"

"Everything is taken care off. You'll move tonight. Sam will fill you in later. For now, I'd like to know how you are," she told him gently, steering him away from what was to be done and back to how he was doing.

It was the same question he had heard so many times before from his team mates around him. Lying to Hetty was incredibly difficult on a good day, not saying anything would not be tolerated right now, but saying the whole truth was out of the question as well. "Alive, and somewhat functioning," he settled on.

"No "I'm fine", Mr. Callen?" she asked evenly.

"Would be a lie," he gave back in the same tone of voice.

"Worked for you before," Hetty replied, half accusation, half statement. He could picture the small enigmatic smile on her lips, knew she wasn't angry about that particular quirk of his. She knew him well, knew that hiding behind lies about his wellbeing was just part of him.

Callen smiled to himself. Yeah, he had used that line many, many times before, had insisted until he was blue in the face - sometimes literally - and the fact that he didn't do that now would be a surprise not only to his team but also to Hetty. Right now though, he felt he owed them all at least some part of the truth, so he tried to not hide behind those words, "don't think it would do this time."

"I see," was the simple response. And knowing Hetty, she probably did see.

"I'll go back to that in a few days or so," Callen warned her, smiling when his response resulted in a soft chuckle.

The conversation wrapped up soon after that, and Callen put the phone down on the coffee table before limping to the bathroom. Sam and Michelle were in the kitchenette, starting breakfast. Kensi and Deeks were probably asleep in their bedroom, getting a few more minutes of rest after their last guard shift.

Knowing he might incur their wrath for having to redo the bandages, Callen still decided to take a shower, longing for the soothing warmth of the water. The sweat jacket Deeks and Kensi had brought back from their supply run the day before had helped generating some warmth. The hot water would provide more comfort. There was a slight chill that seemed to be lingering, but that too, was getting better.

When he came out of the bathroom, Sam had already set out the medical supplies and was waiting for him with an arched eyebrow. "Again?" he asked.

Not having bothered with donning a shirt or putting the sweat jacket on, he walked over to the couch and sat down. "Thought you could do with the practice," Callen sniped back with a small grin.

Sam rolled his eyes, but the smile playing over his features let Callen know he didn't begrudge him the shower or the verbal comeback.

Sam was still busy with the last wounds when Kensi and Deeks stepped into the room. They both drew to a stop upon the sight and Callen gave them a wan smile, trying to ignore their eyes roving over the wounds on display. Until now, the junior partners hadn't seen the state he was in, having either been asleep or on a supply run when Sam and Michelle had checked him over. He saw Kensi open her mouth a few times, obviously searching for words before giving up and continuing on into the kitchenette to help Michelle set up breakfast. It was Deeks who surprised him somehow, questioning whether Sam needed another hand and only following Kensi when he was waved away.

He could still see the humor in the younger man's eyes, had heard it in the tone of his voice a few times since meeting up with them, but Deeks had grown and matured somehow, and from what he had seen so far, Deeks had forged a different place for himself within this team.

Xxxxxxx

Sam moved over to the couch to wake his partner. They had packed up everything and were about to head out. G had wanted to help, but he had been relegated to the sidelines. There was not much stuff they had to take care of so they had everything in hand; that, plus the fact that Callen was still exhausted, still prone to doze off within minutes. Still, that G actually acceded to their command to stay where he was…

It was something that worried Sam. He knew his partner well and had seen him overcome many different injuries. The only times he had been comparably exhausted had been after the drive-by shooting and the Spiral virus. Both had left him in ICU for weeks. He'd been weak as a kitten back then. This time, the injuries themselves were not as grave by far, but months of captivity and torture had had a considerable impact. G had never slept much, but from the way his body was demanding rest now, the last months had taxed him a lot. Injuries, being tortured and never feeling safe had seemed to hollow him out.

"G," Sam called his friend gently, crouching down beside the couch.

Callen's eyes opened immediately, letting Sam know he had been dozing but not fully asleep. His eyes were clearer by now. Upon meeting with G and coming to the house, his eyes had been dull with fatigue, pain and weariness. All of that was still visible, but a lot less prominent. He also didn't startle as badly anymore if someone moved unexpectedly. Considering they hadn't even been here for 48 hours, it was a vast improvement.

"Time to go?" Callen asked, glancing around and finding the room around them empty.

"Yeah, we're all packed up and cleared out. Get dressed and then we'll head off," Sam told him, retreating and giving his partner some space.

When G joined Sam in the entrance hall, the sweat jacket donned over some loose fitting jeans, Sam nodded simply and led the way outside. It was by now dark outside and the others were keeping watch, even though no one really expected any trouble. Abramov was still holding firm in front of the gates of Ramstein as far as they knew. Maybe, once they had G settled within the Air Force base, they could sneak back out and give the man a piece of his own medicine. Grinning darkly, Sam got into the van behind his partner.

Without comment, G climbed into the back row, seating himself in the same place as when they had come here two days ago.

"Alright, let's go," Sam ordered, sliding the side door closed. If everything went according to plan, they would be inside the Air base within the next four or five hours. They just wouldn't enter it the way Abramov expected, Hetty had seen to that.

Xxxxxxx

Reaching the gates of the base, Sam lowered the window while slowing the car down. "Captain Martin is expecting us," he showed the man at the gate his NCIS badge, "operation Night Dragon."

The guardsman looked at the badge, then let his eyes roam around the car. Three more badges were held out, only the man asleep in the backseat didn't have an identification. That was expected though. "He your man?" he asked Sam.

"Yeah, he is, Staff Sergeant," Sam nodded after taking in the man's insignia.

The guard gave a simple nod, "Captain Martin is waiting for you by the barracks. Take the next left and then head straight until you see the buildings. I'll let him know to expect you. The exercise has been running for two hours now. You'll be up soon. The Captain will bring you where you need to go."

Sam gave the man another sharp nod, "thank you, Staff Sergeant."

The other man snapped off a short salute with a muttered, "Sir," before moving to open the gate.

And with that, the first part of their journey was completed. They had been on alert during the two hour drive, but from now on, they should be safe. If there had been any trouble, it would have happened between the rental house and the gate they had just passed.

While this wasn't Ramstein and they weren't yet on US soil, this was a German military base used primarily by the British Army. It also doubled as an exercise area and training center for the NATO. Neither of them knew if Hetty had managed to make up this NATO exercise maneuver out of thin air or if the maneuver had been planned before and she had merely hijacked it for their purpose. They also hadn't asked, unsure if they wanted to open that particular can of worms with their tiny ninja operations manager.

Sam slowly rolled the van through the gate and followed the guard's directions. In front of the barracks, a lone man stood, flagging them down. "Agent Hanna?" he asked, when Sam pulled to a stop beside him.

"That's me," Sam acknowledged, killing the engine. In the back, he could see G jerking awake, looking around quickly to orient himself. Their eyes met briefly in the review mirror and Sam gave him a reassuring smile before returning his attention to the man outside. "Captain Martin, I presume?"

The other man nodded and stepped back from the car, allowing Sam to open the door and get out. More car doors opened and the team slowly filed out of the van. Callen was the last to come out, using the door for support before he found his footing on the gravel with a slight grimace.

"Welcome to Normandy Barracks," the Captain greeted, "the training mission is underway. It should be completed within the next thirty. Grab your gear, then we'll ship you to the extraction site. A chopper will be taking you to Ramstein with the rest of the unit."

The rest of the team was already unpacking the car when Sam handed the car keys over to the Captain. Hetty had somehow arranged for the British forces to return the car to the rental agency… again, no one had asked.

With their go-bags slung over their shoulders, Callen having picked up his backpack before anyone could reach for it, obviously wanting to do something by himself, the team silently turned towards the Captain who simply nodded and moved off, expecting them to follow. Behind the barracks were two military vehicles that would take them to the extraction site.

The team wordlessly split up and only moments later they were underway, the Captain navigating the bases' roads away from the barracks. Twenty minutes later, they pulled up at an area crowded with different military units. Different uniforms indicated the countries present. Soldiers of different nations were standing loosely together, discussing the exercise. All in all there were roughly 80 soldiers milling around. Their relaxed stance belied their battle readiness, but clearly showed that the military training exercise was completed. The Captain pulled to a stop and both vehicles emptied quickly.

Approaching a smaller group of men, Captain Smith stopped and saluted to the superior officers before addressing the American Lieutenant Colonel present. Once the officer returned his salute, Captain Martin gestured towards the group behind him, "your expected company has arrived."

The officer's eyes moved over the group behind Captain Martin and he nodded, stepping forward. There was a brief round of introductions.

"Appreciate the pick-up, Sir," Sam told the man with a small smile when they shook hands.

"Well, there's room on the chopper and the order came from up high. Got the impression some of my men would have been booted out of their seats if there hadn't been any vacancies for you on our return flight." The tone of voice was mild and carrying a hint of mirth and curiosity both. Being in the military though, the man knew better than to ask.

Five minutes later, the spinning blades of the approaching chopper could be heard. Sam watched his friend when the helicopter approached, saw relief upon the blatant show of military strength. He moved over to where Callen stood. "Let's get you home," he told his friend.

Xxxxxxx