So, this is the final chapter. Sorry this has taken a bit to get out, but I've been swamped. This has been a fun story to write, and I hope this chapter wraps things up in a way that's satisfactory. As always, thank you for reading, let me know what you think, and I already have an idea for a new story, so I'll probably start that one next month. Stay safe!

Chapter 22

Nate waited in the side room for several minutes, giving Callen and Anna a few moments to reunite, refocus, and re-establish their feelings after this experience that had challenged their faith in each other and in themselves, but he needed to get back in and complete this session with Callen before he reported back to Hetty. Nate knew why Hetty had called him back. He knew Callen longer than anyone now at NCIS except Hetty; he knew Callen even longer than Sam knew him, and theirs was a relationship that was professional, but also close, personal, and complicated. Through the years, Nate had gained Callen's trust. He'd strained it during an undercover assignment several years earlier, but Callen understood that sometimes being undercover meant acting out of character and committing actions one normally wouldn't do. There were many qualities and characteristics Callen demonstrated that Nate admired—he found them astounding, even, given Callen's personal history—but one that he most admired and tried to emulate in his own life was Callen's capacity to forgive. For someone who had suffered so much at the hands of others for so many years, Nate found this truly remarkable. And it stood in stark contrast to his struggle to trust and open up to people, even those he cared about most deeply. Nate knew what it was to struggle to find "the one," but now Callen had, after more than fifteen years, found someone who he was willing to break down some barriers for, and Nate was here to help in any way he could. But he also knew barriers remained, and there would still be difficult times ahead for both of them, and given Callen's line of work and possibly Anna's, very difficult times. Nate believed their relationship would survive and grow stronger—maybe even flourish—as long as Callen learned to trust and be honest with Anna the way she trusted and was honest with him. And that's why Nate needed to talk with Callen before they were finished today.

XXXXXXX

Hetty reviewed the data Mr. Beale had transferred from Katya's chips. While much of the information was salacious and involved men at the highest levels of several law enforcement agencies and military branches, it was the information she viewed last that was of immediate concern and the greatest threat to national security. She got up from her desk, took the flash drive with her, and walked up to the glassed-in office above. She shut the door, tinted the windows, and activated the security system to block any attempt to trace or listen in to her call. Then she picked up the phone.

"Director Vance, Henrietta. I need to meet with you and the Director of the CIA in your office as soon as possible."

"What's this about, Henrietta?"

"It's about the information Katya Mironova possessed."

There was a moment of silence on the other end. "You found it?"

"I did."

"And it's in your possession?"

"It is."

There was another moment of silence. "Is it secure?"

"Yes."

"Alright. You get on a flight today, Henrietta, and I'll have the Director in my office tonight."

"Thank you, Leon."

"Keep that information secure, Henrietta, until we see you."

And then the line went dead. Hetty immediately got up and, putting the flash drive in one of her pockets, went to Ops to collect the chips.

XXXXXXX

Anna was still on Callen's lap when Nate re-entered the room, but she had repositioned herself. Both their bodies were more relaxed now. Anna had pulled her legs together and sat curled up, her left shoulder leaning against his chest, her arms in front of her, her head on his shoulder, and her eyes closed, an untroubled smile on her lips. Callen's right arm was draped around her and his left hand stroked her hair while he his chin rested lightly on top of her head. His gaze shifted between Anna and the room as his thoughts drifted and he tried to make sense of everything he felt.

Nate entered the room without a sound and stood a few feet behind and to the side of Callen's chair. "Callen, you and I still need to talk," Nate said, breaking the mood.

At Nate's voice, Anna opened her eyes and uncurled her legs. She leaned her head back, looked past Callen, and smiled at Nate, then gave Callen a quick kiss and stood up. "I'm going for a walk on the beach," she said to both men as she quickly squeezed Callen's shoulder and then released. She walked out of the boatshed, and Nate and Callen were alone again.

Callen's body language told Nate that he was more at-ease while his expression told him that he was peeved about the interruption. Still, he straightened up and waited to resume their conversation without any verbal complaints.

Nate crossed to the sofa and took his former seat. Once Nate was settled, he leaned forward and rested his forearms on his thighs, his fingers interlaced, his hands suspended between his knees.

"Looks like you and Anna were able to . . . clear the air about some recent events."

"We've come to an understanding of sorts," Callen admitted, reluctant to talk about personal matters now that he'd gotten a handle on the emotions he'd revealed earlier during their conversation, but his feelings now were belied by the shadow of a smile.

"Good," Nate replied, pleased that his plan to leave Callen and Anna alone had produced the desired result, but the words that followed were delivered no-nonsense, "because you'll need to learn how to be able to do that—and actually do it—many times over."

Callen had not expected this comment from Nate, and he leaned forward to challenge him. "What do you mean?"

"I mean, Callen, that while you and Anna have reached an understanding 'of sorts' about recent events—and that's what I hoped you and Anna would be able to do—you need to realize that there will always be other—perhaps even more traumatic events—that will test the strength of your affection and your trust in her." He paused as Callen's eyes shifted from being locked on his to studying the floor. But he was listening, so Nate continued, "What's important is that you build your affection and trust, and you can only do that by being open and honest with Anna all the time."

"Does that mean I can't lie a little so that I can go watch basketball at Sam's instead of going to Arkady's for dinner?"

Nate chuckled, "You honestly think you couldn't tell her the truth about that, Callen?"

"No," Callen conceded. But he still seemed unsure, "Then explain what you mean because I'm not sure I understand."

"When you are confronted with a serious issue, one that evokes strong emotions in you, you compartmentalize and bury those emotions and deal with them yourself, but if you are to be honest and open with Anna, you need to fight that instinct, Callen. Instead of burying your emotions, you need to share your feelings with Anna, trust her to help you deal with them and with the situation."

Callen looked unconvinced and defensive. "How do you know I don't do that already?"

"Because I know you," Nate replied quietly. "Callen, I've known you for years, I've watched you at work, I'm aware of your past, I know what you've been through—and I know how you were able to survive—but your life circumstances have changed now. It's long past time you learned to live your life instead of just surviving it."

Callen was silent for several minutes. "That's how I survive in my work."

"Your work isn't your life. You have experienced tremendous trauma in your life, Callen, and there's always the chance you'll experience additional trauma because of the work you do, but that is all the more reason to have someone in your life who can help you deal with it, who can help you work through what you're feeling when trauma happens. Just the touch of someone's hand, the warmth of a hug, a smile from someone you love can help you. You—and I mean you, specifically, Callen—need to make a conscious effort to share your feelings, your fears, your hopes, your disappointments with Anna instead of repressing them and shutting her out. You need to keep yourself open and take the time to share what you feel with her." Callen had raised his eyes and his cynical expression caused Nate to clarify, "And, no, I'm not saying you need to get all mushy and blubber like a guest on Dr. Phil." Callen looked relieved. "Being emotionally honest with someone can be as simple as explaining why you don't want to go to Arkady's or as complicated as sharing how you feel about your father." At that comment, Callen leaned back and closed his eyes as he continued to listen. "I'm saying." Nate stated with emphasis, "that you need to be emotionally honest with Anna. It's the only way to find out if she can handle your emotional swings and moods because you can't stop those. And I don't think she wants to continue playing house with you." He paused. "She wants—and I think you believe she deserves—an honest relationship."

Callen tilted his head back and stared at the ceiling. "She does." He let out a sigh. "And I want to be honest with her, Nate. I try to be."

"I know you do," Nate replied. "And she knows you do. She's hoping you can be. That's one reason she's been so patient with you, more patient than most women I've known would be."

"And," Callen asked, "how many women would that be?"

"There were more before my marriage," Nate admitted with a wink.

Callen sat forward so quickly he almost fell out of his chair. "You're married?" He narrowed his eyes, "No."

Nate nodded, "It happens to the best of us—and even the not so best of us."

"And you didn't tell us? We're not family anymore? I'm hurt." Callen put up a hand as though stopping the conversation, "Hetty knows, right? I mean, you had to tell Hetty."

"Hetty knows. She'd know even if I hadn't told her, but I did tell her." Nate looked a little embarrassed, even self-conscious, "I would have told you, but you were on a mission, and then things got hectic . . . and you know how that goes."

Callen's expression reflected the genuine camaraderie he felt for Nate. After all, he'd known Nate for many, many years, and in his early days as a field agent, Nate had often turned to Callen for advice. And now, here he was helping Callen tear down his wall and escape his solitary confinement. It had been a long, hard road, but like Anna, Nate had never given up on Callen. "I'm happy for you, Nate, really. Congratulations."

"Thanks."

"You must have a photo."

"I do," Nate replied and stood up. He took his wallet out of his back pocket as he walked over to Callen and pulled out a small photo, already wrinkled. He handed it to Callen.

Callen held it in his fingertips. The photo was of a man, around Nate's age, with salt-and-pepper hair, hazel eyes, a grey beard, and a wide smile. Callen looked up at Nate who smiled and said with a shrug of his shoulders, "Sometimes, it takes awhile to find what we're looking for."

"I guess it does," Callen said with honest appreciation and respect for Nate as he handed the photo back to him. Nate put away his photo, walked back to the sofa, and took a seat.

"So, you understand what I mean by you needing to be open with Anna about your feelings and emotions?"

"I do," Callen admitted and paused, "but I'm not sure I'll be very good at doing that."

"Oh, I know you won't be very good at doing that, Callen," Nate replied. "You'll probably be awful, especially at the beginning, but the fact that you already know you won't be good at it gives you an advantage, in a way. You're kind of like the batter who knows he can't hit sliders, so he takes more sliders during batting practice to get better and to be able to recognize them. Now that you know you're not very good at 'opening up,' you should be better at recognizing when you're not being open, and that should cause you to make more of an effort to open up."

Nate paused to see if Callen was following along because his sports analogies weren't always the best, but Callen seemed to understand what he was trying to say, so Nate continued, "If you want to continue your relationship with Anna, I believe you'll do what needs to be done. Desire can be a powerful motivator, and I've no doubt you have the desire. I also have no doubt that Anna is more than willing to help you."

"Desire can be a powerful motivator, and I'm sure Anna will help me," Callen agreed. He then became quiet and more sober, and his eyes focused on the future. "But, habits are hard to break, Nate, and if I don't break these, one day she won't have the patience to wait for me anymore."

Nate waited until Callen raised his head and looked at him. "I'll be honest with you, Callen: that day may come. The only person who can see that it doesn't is you."

He stood up and walked over to Callen who also realized that their "session" had reached its natural end and grabbed his crutches to stand up. Callen put out his bandaged hand, and Nate took hold of it gently.

"Thanks for coming, Nate. Appreciate it."

"You were there for me plenty of times, Callen. I'm always just a phone call away." Then Nate clapped him on the shoulder in solidarity and walked out of the boatshed. Callen stood alone for several moments, thinking about his future. He heard Nate's car start up and its tires roll across the gravel as it left the boatshed parking. Nate was right: the day might come when Anna could walk away because he couldn't open himself to her, but it wouldn't be today. Callen felt more sure of himself and of what he wanted than he had for a long time, maybe ever, in his life as he turned and headed for the beach and Anna.

XXXXXXX

Hetty was waiting at OSP for Nate as she prepared to leave for Washington, DC. When he entered, he headed straight to her desk and took a seat opposite.

"You look as though you have some good news to share with me, Mr. Getz."

"I never could hide anything from you, Hetty, but you're right. I do."

"How's our boy?"

Nate took a sip of the whiskey she had poured for him while she held her glass a few inches from her lips waiting for his reply.

"I think, Hetty, he's on a path to living his life in a way that will bring some challenges, but that will also be able to bring much more enjoyment if he can stay on track."

"And do you think he can 'stay on track.' Mr. Getz?"

"I do." He paused, "You know Callen, Hetty: once he puts his mind to something, he's going to get it done no matter what it takes." He paused again. "This will be more difficult for him, though, because it's changing old habits and we know how difficult that can be. The good thing is, he has someone willing to help him."

"Good," Hetty said simply as she lifted her glass in a toast to Nate. They drank in silence until they emptied then glasses and Hetty stood up. "I'm leaving for Washington shortly, and I was able to secure a seat for you, if you'd care to join me, Mr. Getz."

Nate smiled, "My things are packed."

"I thought they might be," Hetty replied, and as she moved out from behind her desk. Nate reached down to take hold of her overnight bag sitting on the floor beside her desk, but Hetty shooed his hand away. "I'm perfectly capable of getting my own bag, thank you, Mr. Getz. Besides, I wouldn't want to be responsible for the back ache that would result from you bending over to pull this even five feet." Nate smiled at her and escorted Hetty to the waiting car as she pulled her overnight bag behind her.

Once he'd seen to it that Hetty's overnight bag was secured, Nate headed back to OSP to retrieve his own bags.

With bags in hand, he headed back out to join Hetty when Sam stopped him.

"Nate! Leaving so soon?"

"Yea, Sam, I was able to catch a ride with Hetty."

"Soooo," Sam said drawing it out until Nate answered the question Nate knew he was asking.

"I think, Sam, I can—without breaking doctor-patient privilege—tell you that your partner will be returning to work once he's cleared his physical."

"So, you've cleared him?"

"I have."

Sam smiled broadly and pulled Nate in for a bro handshake.

When they separated, Nate's demeanor turned more serious. "He will still have some lingering issues from this experience, Sam, so stay alert because he will need his partner's help. I know you'll be there for him."

"I will be," Sam assured Nate. "We all will be." He walked with Nate part of the way toward the exit, but stopped him before he exited. "And his relationship with Anna?"

"That's really up to him, but I think he's serious about it, I think it means more to him than he's been willing to admit, and I think he's going to try and make a go of it. It's what he wants, at least right now, and I'm sure that's what Anna wants, as well." He smiled. "I told him to call me anytime, and the same goes for you: if you think he needs a quick 'session' or 'pep talk,' or if you need to talk about anything—like the new woman in your life—give me a call anytime."

"I will, Nate," Sam replied as a car's horn cut impatiently through the general office noise, and Nate dipped his head in its direction. "Better go, Nate. You don't want to spend six hours in the air with Hetty if she's mad," Sam said with a laugh.

Nate hoisted one bag over his shoulder and carrying the other by the handle, he headed out to join the OSP operations manager.

XXXXXXX

Callen found Anna on the sand about fifty yards from the boatshed. She was sitting, looking out to sea, and watching the people and seagulls come and go. She glanced up as he reached her side and lowered himself to join her on the sand.

"Nate's gone?"

"He is."

"He gave you a clean bill of health?"

"Sort of."

"What do you mean, sort of?" Anna asked.

"I think he pretty much said I'd be an idiot if I let you get away."

"Well, he's not wrong there," Anna agreed, and Callen wasn't sure if she was teasing him or serious.

Callen shifted his body a little so that he faced her. "He's not." His eyes stared into hers and never wavered. "I am a lot of things, Anna, but I'm not an idiot."

"No, you're not," she whispered and leaning in, gave him a gentle kiss on his cheek. She smiled and he felt a contentment he had never known. After a few more seagulls had passed and waves had crashed ashore, Anna turned back to the scene. She felt his eyes on her and turned back to face him. She smiled again and then leaned in and whispered, "I could use a shower, and you need fresh bandages."

XXXXXXX

Upon arriving in DC, Hetty was met by the car Vance had sent, and Nate took his leave and headed home.

Once at NCIS, Hetty headed up to Director Vance's office where he and the CIA Director waited.

"Hello, Henrietta," he said, coming around his desk to greet her. "I hope you had a good flight."

"Thank you, Leon," she replied as she shook his hand. "The flight was fine."

Leon turned to the CIA Director. "Hetty, I think you know Tom Abingdon, Director of the CIA."

"Hello, Tom," Hetty said as he stood up and they shook hands. Abingdon then sat back down and Hetty took the seat next to him while Leon sat on the edge of his desk. "Now, what do you have to show us that required a trip of 3,000 miles?" Hetty removed the flash drive from her coat inner pocket and handed it to Vance. "You found this on Katya?"

"No," she replied, taking out the plastic container with the chips from another inner coat pocket. She held it up. "These are what I found in Katya."

"In Katya?"

"Yes," Hetty stated without elaborating. Vance looked at Abingdon and then back at the chips which he set down on his desk. He held onto the flash drive. "I had Mr. Beale transfer the data from the chips to the flash drive," Hetty continued, "but he didn't access any of the information himself, so he has no idea what he transferred."

"You're certain?"

"I trust Mr. Beale completely."

"And this information is damaging?"

"Most of the files are tawdry details of sexual encounters with high ranking members of our government and military which can be addressed by various agencies."

"And what does the CIA want to see?" Abingdon asked.

"The file labeled 'cuckold'." Hetty said.

"I take it that isn't a file about Katya's sexual conquests," Vance said.

"No. I thought it odd, since the other files are labeled with the names of individuals," Hetty remarked. "Cuckold is a file that details how the top CIA operative in Russia was uncovered by the FSB just over a year ago, and is now working for them." Neither man spoke, but both understood the gravity of this information. "It also goes into some detail about how he has turned some assets to work for him."

Vance turned to the CIA Director, whose expression remained stoic. "I'm going to guess that this is something you weren't aware of, Tom."

"And you'd be right," Abingdon admitted. "I wasn't aware of this, but it explains quite a bit that's been going on the past six months." He stood up. "Leon, I need to handle this immediately and pull our people out before they know we're in possession of this information." He turned to Hetty, "Has Katya's body been found by anyone else?"

"I don't believe so, and even if it has been, it will be difficult—perhaps impossible—to identify her."

"Good," he stated as he headed for the door. "That will give us time to get things started and save as many of our agents and assets as we can." He turned back to Leon and Hetty, "The CIA is in your debt. If you ever need help with something, you know how to reach me, Leon, Hetty."

"Thank you, Tom. Let me know if we can help in any way," Leon said as he walked Abingdon to the door of his office, closing it behind him when he left.

Once Abingdon had gone, Leon returned to his desk and Hetty returned to her seat. He pulled a bottle out of his bottom desk drawer and set it on his desk. She reached over and checked the label, then leaned back while he walked over to a cabinet and brought out two glasses.

"So, Henrietta," he began as he poured them both drinks, "I suppose I'd best let the other agencies know that the information they're searching for has been found."

"That would probably be a good thing to do."

"But first," he continued with a nod, "bring me up to speed on the Katya situation and tell me how Callen and Anna and the rest of your team are doing."

XXXXXXX

The warm water cascaded over Anna as she stood again in her own shower. She closed her eyes and let the water flow over her head, turning into rivulets that ran down her back, her breasts, her stomach, her thighs, her buttocks, and then swirled away down the drain by her feet. She hadn't realized that such simple things gave her so much happiness until she realized how close she'd come to having them all taken away from her. Now, back in her own home with the one man who meant everything to her made her so exceptionally happy she couldn't stop smiling. She started humming softly to herself and then she was singing "One Thought Away" out loud without even realizing it.

In the bedroom, Callen was finishing up putting fresh bandages on his feet when he heard the shower and then a little later, Anna's voice through the water's splash. He made his way to the bathroom and stood outside the door for a few seconds, listening to her voice mingling with the water, before he stepped inside and watched her silhouette dancing behind the shower curtain. The joy in that one moment erased all the pain of the earlier events. He was home. And Anna was with him. He stood listening until she reached down and turned the water off. As the water flow lessened to a drip, Anna was still singing softly to herself, but when she placed her hand on the shower curtain to pull it aside, Callen slipped silently out of the bathroom. He stopped and picked up the bandages, ointment, and tape in the bedroom and made his way to the living room. He set out the items and waited. He'd told Anna he could replace the bandages on his hands, but she had made it clear that she wanted to help. This was the first opportunity he had to let her in, to share things with her, and he was determined not to blow it. So, he waited.

In a moment, Anna entered, her face and skin fresh from her shower, glowing as she pulled her wet hair back off her face and came over to Callen and sat down on the floor in front of him. Callen watched her without a word. She first checked the bandages on his feet, lifting each foot up gently and checking to make sure that the bandages covered his injuries completely and were wrapped securely but not too tightly. After she had thoroughly inspected his work, she turned her face to him and nodded her approval.

"Your work is quite satisfactory," she said and gave him a wink combined with a beautiful smile. Callen found he couldn't speak. Anna waited for a minute, somewhat puzzled, and then raised herself to her knees and moved her face closer, her expression slightly worried. "Is something wrong, Callen?" Callen smiled and shook his head. Anna smiled, still slightly concerned, but sat back down and gently removed the bandages from his left hand. She covered the burned areas with ointment first and then laid silicone sheets over the ointment, wrapping the silicone with gauze to hold the sheets in place, and then finally using cloth tape to secure everything. Once the left hand was bandaged, she kissed it gently and then picked up his right hand and repeated the process.

When both of his hands were bandaged, he looked at them and then looked down at her and finally found his voice. "I guess I won't be doing any dishes for awhile."

She slapped him lightly and laughed. "Maybe I shouldn't be doing any cooking, then." He shrugged and then motioned her to join him on the couch. She moved the bandages and supplies aside and crawled up onto the cushions, snuggling up against him. He pressed his face into her cool, damp hair and pulled her close. She sighed and closed her eyes, and heard his heartbeat steady and strong. They were almost asleep when there was a faint knock at the door. Callen's heartbeat surged and Anna, startled, got up to answer it. Callen was up before she reached the door.

"Anna," he whispered harshly. "Wait." He moved to the door and looked through the peep hole. No one was visible. He motioned for Anna to open the door and he prepared to greet whoever was on the other side. When Anna opened the door slowly, the only thing on the other side was a duffle bag with a note. Callen recognized the bag as one of Sam's, so he picked it up and brought it inside. Anna shut the door, and they went back into the living room. They sat on the couch and Callen set the bag on the floor and handed the note to Anna to read.

She opened the note: "Anna, Callen, I know how much experiences you share with someone you love mean, and how difficult it is when things you create together are taken away. You deserve the chance to recreate what was taken. Have fun. P.S. Instructions not included."

Callen opened the bag and when he and Anna looked inside, Anna cried out with delight. "Our Legos!"

"No time like the present," Callen said as he dumped the Legos onto the living room floor and slid awkwardly off the sofa to the floor. He looked at Anna, "C'mon. You pull out the pieces you think are from the Tivoli Fountain, and I'll pull out the pieces I think are from the Arc de Triomphe."

"I'm going to need some wine," she stated firmly and started toward the kitchen. In the kitchen she hesitated for just a moment and looked around for anything out of place.

Callen's voice broke her sense of unease as he called out from the living room, "Make mine a beer."

Anna opened the frig, grabbed two bottle of beer, and took them back to the living room where Callen had already pulled twenty Legos aside. She handed him his beer, sat down across from him, and began to pull aside the Tivoli pieces.

XXXXXXX

A week later, a woman's body was discovered in the Mojave. It was badly decomposed with much of the soft tissue and organs missing, devoured by desert-dwelling scavengers. There was no identification with the remains. The flesh that remained on the fingers was insufficient to use for fingerprints, and if there had been any distinguishing marks or tattoos, they were no longer visible. The coroner kept the Jane Doe for the required amount of time, but when no one came to claim the body and no missing persons reports matched the basic description in gender, height, and approximate age, the remains were taken to the county crematorium, cremated, and buried with the others who had died unknown and unmourned.