Au. Note:
It has been a while since I last wrote and shared something like this, mainly due to the mood the show got me in after 'a fait accompli' and to my non-existent will to write ever since. So, bear with me in case this one isn't that good. Also thanks to ncisla for that absurd ending in the latest episode (the noble maidens), I simply had to put these scenario(s) into words, and if I did so, I might as well share it.
As always, I'm not an English native, and even though I do my best to write correctly, check the spelling and such, grammar mistakes and all are more than normal and may still exist.
For those wondering, I will get back to 'Seeing You Leave', eventually. I haven't given up on it. Actually, I have some future chapters partly written, but I need to fully process everything that has happened in the episodes ever since the 4th one and plan a different approach to that story before continuing on sharing those.
So, for now, I hope you enjoy this read!
If you could leave a comment/review, no matter what you think of it, it would be very much appreciated.
Now, onto the little story.
x
x
Once the paramedics had finished every check-up on Anna, Arkady drove his daughter to where she and his 'old' friend had spent most of their time in quarantine. A 'communist block chic' kind of place, as he once told Callen, but, if he was honest, it fitted them. Anna was never one to want or require much but the essential—even if she hadn't had part of it growing up, he regretted—and Grisha had never had nor wanted much either. However, if their relationship was to continue, the big oaf really hoped they'd move out and into a nicer, wider place, eventually. He didn't want to feel kind of claustrophobic every time he visited them.
"You sure you don't want me to stay?", Arkady asked in his usual mannerism when they approached the building's entrance door.
"No, I can handle myself. I won't be much company, either." Her tired countenance turned into a small but affectionate smile. "But thank you."
Her father returned the expression and his hands raised in both defeat and comprehension. "I get it." After a short pause during which he looked at the door and back at his daughter, he continued. "Unless some other durak blocks connection, I'm a call away. If you need anything…"
Arkady had a way to turn dangerous situations into less apprehensive and almost humorous ones through language, something she was as concerned about as she was appreciative of. She couldn't help but grin and shook her head slightly. "I know. Bye, papa. Thank you for driving me." Anna stepped forward and gave him a caring hug, one he enthusiastically returned.
"You take care."
Anna nodded and watched Arkady walk away, get in his car, and drive off. No matter what the past had put her through, she was happy about having gotten closer to her father, recently. He was a pain in the ass, but as she once stated, he was her pain in the ass, and she knew he truly cared.
Once on the second floor of the building, right in front of the outside face of the door she had crossed many times before, Anna held the left side of the black bomber jacket that she had on with her left hand and reached for the thick hem with her other hand to take a tiny key out of a hidden pocket in there. She had taken that key with her when she left for what should have been Santa Cruz, the past year, and it had never been more than just inches away from her. At some point, she felt like she was constantly hiding the only key to a treasure, which was, in part, true.
She let a brief but profound sigh come out of her chest and mouth as she finally stepped into the place that is so dear to her, after so long. The door closed behind her and her nostrils were instantly invaded by the familiar and soothing scent of his cologne that was still in the air even after two straight days, except not as strongly. Anna stood by it as her eyes inspected the entire room. Everything was pretty neat, and nothing had been changed; not even a single thing was in a different place. That brought Anna a sense of normalcy, order, and lucidity, and the impression that things hadn't been put through the passage of time. As if time was something else there, where one can visualize the pause in which the instant faces eternity. They had, though. In a way, at least. Except for the purpose of her absence, all the rest remained the same. Well, in reality, that was not quite true. If anything, her being away had only increased every other aspect, and, hopefully, it hadn't destroyed anything.
As in some sort of an image compilation, the remembrance of their encounter, earlier that day, came running and was playing in front of her eyes. It was a lot more intense and stronger than what both had anticipated if they had anticipated anything at all. In a way, it put in perspective what had been happening and reinforced everything. The care, the love, the worry, the fear... Everything. Anna could still feel his fingers tangled in her hair, the motion of his heart happily beating against her chest even through the vest, and the tightness of his embrace that had drawn her to him the way magnets do.
Above all things, Anna loved the delicacy, the concern, and the fondness that his apparent rough and tough being was capable of; the way there was a significant fragility to his grip and hold in moments of bigger, deeper vulnerability. She relived his gladness at seeing her alive and not hurt, an emotion that irradiated through his entire self and was symbolically expressed by a deep, almost inaudible sigh, as their upper bodies remained glued to one another. And her own delight, too. She didn't remember having felt so relieved, excited, and joyful to see him in the same space as her before. Those situations sure outlined the contrasts.
During their moment, Anna also felt him indirectly apologizing for having been cold and distant, even though he didn't voice a word. The thing is, Grisha didn't need to do so for her to be aware of it. She knew him like the sand knows the tide and its rhythms. There were no big whys or reasons, just simple yet deep, intuitive knowledge. Besides, if someone was to blame, she recognized it was herself.
As she locked the door and finally wandered around the apartment, Anna took that moment to get immersed in the context where she was the happiest. Not that she was ever completely distanced from it, definitely not emotionally. Each day that went by during the months she had been absent became harder to bear, and she dreamt about her return daily. She knew she should have been straightforward with Callen. She also knew he didn't need any protection, as he said it himself. Of course, he didn't; he's more than able to defend himself. Both are. Nonetheless, there are reasons that even reason is not aware of; fears that reason isn't capable of deconstructing, and inadvertently getting him hurt or even losing him was one of those. She feared that more than anything else, more than being a toy in Katya's hands—that didn't scare her. For that same reason, she didn't want him to get involved at the expense of putting himself in jeopardy.
On that front, the two were a spitting image of each other, and she perceived it well. That's the way both act towards others—they don't want anyone to risk anything for them, yet they have this interior urge to do everything they possibly can in order to protect the ones that make them the most vulnerable. The same way Grisha didn't let her out of his sight to make sure he could handle whatever was happening in the best way possible, she had wanted to keep him safe. Her consciousness was at peace because what she did was never bad intended, not even for a second; it was always done in his and their best interest, ultimately.
Callen was her strongest weakness, her kryptonite if you will. Although she had no idea about what would happen to them from then on, having heard him kind of promise he'd join her at that little place of theirs, later, was nothing short of special and meaningful. Nevertheless, Anna wasn't expecting anything from him, not after her own failure at preserving the truth between them, even if she was sure that he knew she regretted having inadvertently hurt him. That was never on her mind and never would be.
Slowly, she was absorbed from her introspection and into reality, again. By then, she had taken her jacket and her boots off, putting the latter part of her outfit inside the drawer's right door, and started heading towards the bathroom. She had to wash the craziness out of her body.
xxxxxxxxxx
After the team solved everything at the port and Callen made sure Anna was in good hands, he and Sam got in the challenger and drove back to the OSP to finish some necessary paperwork. Both headed to the bullpen after organizing their vests and thigh holsters in the armory, and while Sam sat on his chair and began typing right away, Grisha took his time due to his energy being at less than half of its level. He went to make some coffee before walking to his seat with a paper cup in his left hand from which he carefully sipped the steamy dark and flavorful liquid. He was about to seat down to go through the sheets of paper on his desk when Sam spoke.
"Go home, G." Callen looked up at him, a surprised look on his face. "I'll take care of it," Sam continued as he motioned to his partner's desk. "The truth is one of us had a decent night of sleep, 'last night'," he noted matter-of-factly while remembering his friend's still debatable (from his pov) yet thoughtful decision that allowed him to enjoy some time with his daughter, two days ago. Besides, he had been under a lot of pressure. "Go home. Get some sleep."
The blue-eyed agent was pretty tired and wasn't even up to discuss those words as a result, so he accepted his partner's offer immediately.
"Thanks, Sam."
With no further ado, Grisha picked his olive green to-go bag from the ground, put his pc in it, and with a low 'see you tomorrow', he made his way out of the building. He didn't give it much thought, but his goals were to go home to someone again after months, to freshen up, and shut his eyes for a while in hopes of receiving some peace.
xxxxxxxxxx
By the time Callen reached the end of the staircase that led to his apartment, he could hear the feeble sound of the TV. In order to open the door, he reached for the small chain of silver keys on the front right pocket of his jeans. As he stepped into the apartment, and after closing and locking the door and taking his pale brown suede chelsea boots off, he announced himself, something he hadn't done in a few months.
While looking towards the apartment's kitchen and dining room area, generously speaking, and wearing nothing on his feet but socks, he walked towards the gray fabric couch, placing his bag down on it. He immediately ceased any upcoming words from rolling out of his lips.
Unless Anna hadn't made it to the apartment yet, there would have been some response to his arrival right away. At the lack of an expected visual and audible proof of further presence in the room, Callen had turned his head to inspect the other half of it, soon understanding why there was no answer. Anna was sound asleep on her right side, with her legs bent up slightly and her back towards him. He was glad he hadn't been too noisy seconds earlier, not that he ever was. He didn't want to keep her from taking a much-needed and peaceful rest, after the craziness of the past 72 hours. Callen figured she drifted off from exhaustion while watching TV. Understandable, he thought. If the somehow humid and scented air was any indication, she had also taken a shower prior to that; her golden-like hair was slightly darker due to the still present wetness. Anna preferred to let it dry naturally.
For a moment, Callen allowed himself to make sense of the atmosphere in there. Slowly, he breathed in deeply and then let the air leave his lungs, throat, and mouth just as fast. It was nice to switch from the unsettling smell of the streets to the comfortable and suave perfume of her almond & coconut shampoo mixed with a pinch of spices that hung in the air; he sure had missed that.
Exhaustion had been knocking him down for a few hours already, too, following the quick adrenaline level's rise to its highest when he found the container and then its abrupt decrease as soon as he saw Anna doing alright and hugged her as if his life depended on it, allowing his body and mind to soothe where stress hormones were concerned. Imagining how she was feeling and the thoughts that ran in a free pass through her mind before she crushed on the pillow was a task that he wasn't up to working on nor that he felt he had the right to. Not after all the physical and psychological hell that she lived in such a short period of time, which certainly felt like a lot more than that, he believed.
Quietly, Grisha approached the bed and placed his gun, wallet, cellphone, and watch on the third compartment—the one by his pillow's level—from the side of the shelf that was closest to the main door. He then went to search for the remote, which he found to be at Anna's hand-reach near her pillow. He was aware that changes of volumes in the atmosphere—mainly sudden ones, no matter their pitch—have the potential to affect one's sleep pattern, regardless of the 'lightness' of the latter, as well. As he carefully took the black remote in his hand and clicked the red bottom on its very top-left side to turn the TV off, he remained where he was to notice if the silence had any influence on hers. Since it didn't seem to, at least not in an observable manner, Callen moved on. He set the remote next to the TV, on the upper, smaller trunk that supported it, by the inexistent footboard of the bed, as he made his way towards the fridge. His path was shortly interrupted by a little detour in the direction of the couch. There he picked up a furry fleece tartan blanket from its left arm and then softly covered Anna with it. She looked too serene, and he'd try not to make much noise when grabbing a quick snack.
Grisha peered into the fridge for something quick to eat and saw a half of a chicken sandwich on a white plate, the half Anna had purposedly made for him. Although he wasn't sure of it, the possible doubt related to that simple fact never surrounded his thoughts as he picked the plate from the fridge and allowed himself to savor a much-awaited homemade snack, without worrying about heating it up or about sitting down. The crispiness of the baguette-like bread mixed with the flavor of the succulent, perfectly cooked, and fiery chicken, which was accompanied by a couple of well-seasoned slices of tomato, soft lettuce, and fresh mushrooms, topped with Anna's own honey-mustard sauce, sent his senses in a gastronomic overdrive. His eyes were closed for some seconds, and he let out a practically inaudible mmm while he leaned his bottom against the counter and crossed his legs at his ankles, the plate still in his right hand. Whether it was the desire to fill his stomach with something simple but nourishing or merely the assumption that his girlfriend had taken the precious and much appreciated time to prepare such a light, crisp, and rich sandwich, it satisfied his taste buds, as well as his big but rapidly sated appetite, better than any other one ever had. For the time being, anyway. He would make sure they had a decent meal later or the following day, depending on how many hours their bodies would take to recover the necessary energy to function properly. But she had a chef gene in her, that was certain. He only hoped that she was able to relish the food just as nicely.
Once Callen took the last bite, he warily placed the plate in the sink and headed for the bathroom for an urgently needed but brief shower. As he walked, he began to undress by taking his gray cotton sweater off and undoing the belt on his dark steel-blue jeans, closing the door behind him when he entered the bathroom. He hadn't changed his clothes in three days, which was something he didn't really enjoy nor was even slightly glad about; he felt too dirty, literally speaking.
Taking a lot of time in the shower had never been a habit of his. Aside from standing under the spray to let the water ran down his body, wetting it, and letting its warmth relax his muscles for a couple of minutes after having washed thoroughly, Grisha was done and out of the shower in almost a quarter of an hour.
Feeling revigorated and free of dirt, he stepped out of the cabin and onto the shower carpet, dried his body as much as possible, let his feet glide into his black sliders, and walked out of the bathroom with a white towel wrapped around his waist.
A quick shiver went through his exposed and tanned body when he switched from the warmly saturated environment of the bathroom to the cooler sensation of the rest of the apartment, on an autopilot path towards the wood chest of drawers that stood near the wall in front of their bed. He opened the first and middle drawers, subsequently, to pick some white, blue, and red pale checked boxer shorts, and a not-so-thick-but-still-comfy pastel blue hoodie, the one Anna had gifted him with for his birthday, the past year. The weather was nice; not too cold nor too hot, but the temperatures were going to lower with the sunset's time approaching, and coziness and comfort were two things he wanted to provide himself. Despite a few seconds of searching, the light gray t-shirt he had thought of wasn't in there, and he soon realized he had seen it before—on Anna.
Momentarily, he spun in half of a circle at the realization and lingered over the sight of his girlfriend sleeping in his clothing, her feminine yet not-any-less-strong traits contrasting with the size of the fabric on her figure; it all varying from the whiteness of the soft duvet and the thin sheets that she was sleeping on. He felt his face loosening up, his eyes smiling. Nothing but the lovely scene he was witnessing crossed his mind for a few seconds.
Their relationship, a mix of encounters and separations, had faced—well, was facing—yet another tough challenge, and, at that very moment, his heart was being assaulted by how missed that thrilling, wondrous sight had been.
Thoughtful, Callen looked back down at the cotton-made fabrics in his hands, on which a few water droplets had fallen from his still damp and unkempt brownish hair. He sighed heavily in relief, and then stared ahead, at nowhere in particular. Grasping how much he had craved her presence and everything that came along with it was way past the helm of the impossibilities. He couldn't quite comprehend it; only feel it. He knew he loved Anna and was aware of the depth of his feelings, but he truly hadn't seen all that intensity and longing coming and taking over his whole being in such a tremendous way. The recent months he lived without her by his side had been hard on him, harder than he would ever admit, probably. Overwhelming was the right word for how those weeks had been, personally speaking. Still were, in a way, although gratitude and solace spoke a lot louder, now. Grisha was grateful that she was back, in spite of the lie that had happened—that sure needed to be talked through, he knew it. He was also at ease, very much so, that he and the team, along with a few more not exactly helpful 'helping hands', had taken care of business and gotten Anna out of that situation safely.
His mind had been going places for the past two days. His behavior was not the most suitable one for someone who is in charge although it was more than expectable, and he would have never forgiven himself if something bad had happened to her under his watch. He looked at her once again as he wondered what it would have been like if they hadn't found her safe and sound, back there, but, with a sudden and short shake of his head, the thought vanished.
In no time, Callen took another t-shirt from the drawer, a tan khaki one, got dressed, and carefully closed the drawer before heading to the bathroom again to hang the towel for it to dry.
The evening was coming, bringing the progressive darkness that swiftly flooded the room, so Callen went to close the blinds a bit. To add to the low but never dark and calm ambiance that both enjoyed, at night, he also turned a couple of lamps on—one of the two near his wooden lounge armchair with prussian blue upholstered fabric by the side window, and, since he didn't want the light to bother Anna, the one on the chair that he considered to be his 'nightstand'.
Finally, a powerful wave of fatigue swept over him. Sleep was getting to him, efficiently winning him over, and he knew he had to lay down and drift off. His system needed it, he needed it. Better, he yearned to go lay down on his bed with a sense of a familiar warmth on it, near him. While doing his best to no awake Anna, he laid down on his back on the comfortable mattress and rested his right hand on his tummy and the other one under his head.
Not much time later, he turned his head to his right and observed her, her breathing slow and rhythmic. Her hair fell softly on the snugly dark blue pillow, wetting it a little, and the scent of its cologne had impregnated the air that surrounded the bed in a delightful way, enchanting his nostrils. Without giving much thought to it, not that he had to, Grisha moved on his right side and closer to Anna. He stopped for some instants before her figure, and his mind was invaded by memories of their moments from a few months ago. He had never felt happier in his whole life. All controversies aside, she was his safe place, and he knew with all the certainty that one can have in this life that the feeling was mutual. Their omissions and good-intended lies would never change it, even though they had to evolve on that front, too. He knew they had to talk; they needed to voice all those feelings, fears, and wishes for their and their relationship's sake, if continuing on that path was their goal, which he was sure of. He wasn't going to run away from that. He would have, in the past, but not at that stage. They would talk everything through, eventually, hopefully really soon, but first they needed to allow their bodies to relax. For what's worth, he deep down felt like they were at a turning point, a positive one.
The thought of missing out on those moments that his memories were made of, and the fear of not being able to live more of them had impacted him pretty significantly. Callen didn't want that happiness to go away nor to be the one to keep himself from embracing it.
With that fresh in his mind, and despite wanting nothing but to embrace her tightly in his arms and become as close as two people can physically be, he crawled closer to Anna and put his left arm slowly and caringly around her waist as he adjusted himself behind her, her scent exciting his senses. To his surprise and startle, his girlfriend began to move, smoothly turning around to face him. He stopped his own motion to not perturb her but soon noticed that Anna was still very much asleep, which pleased him. Yet, she must have sensed his presence, which didn't surprise him.
After she settled in the new position, with her legs still slightly bent up and hands by her chest, Callen adjusted the blanket gently on top of their bodies and laid back down again, instinctively but hesitantly resting his left hand on her waist. He watched her sleeping for a couple of minutes. The non-disturbing hum of the mundane atmosphere outside was the only sound that could be heard in the reposeful quietness of the apartment. But it's in the silence that challenges arise.
Soon, his heavy eyes began to shut for the first time in many hours.
He was home. They were home again.
Au. Note: If you've made it this far, thank you for reading!