Author's Note: Cross-posted on AO3

Author's Note 2: I'm not a real big fan of Halloween, but this story works best in this partictular time of the year/setting as there's supernatural themes around... just saying. So: Happy Halloween!

Xxxxxxx

Samain

Callen tilted his head to the side in askance when Deeks glanced in his direction, squinting against the light and frowning. He watched the Detective as he leaned over to his wife, barely within earshot to be able to hear what he told her.

"You know they say that on Halloween the boundary between this world and the Otherworld thins, making it so that friends who passed away may be coming for a visit."

He watched as Kensi turned to her husband, punching him deftly in the chest. "Don't!" she admonished sharply over Deeks' yelp, her features dark and angry.

"No, I mean…" Deeks stammered, watching her walk away as she went around the bar to greet newcomers.

"Still putting your foot in your mouth, I see," Callen commented, chuckling softly to himself before sighing as he watched Deeks' face fall. The other man allowed his head to hang down before drawing a steadying breath and turning to speak to someone else. Callen stood and walked away as well, not following after Kensi though, instead seeking out his own partner in the room.

Callen perched himself beside Sam in the corner of the bar where his partner was drinking. The atmosphere was heavy around them and despite the place being full of people his partner had been left alone, his posture a clear sign for all to stay away.

He kept watching his friend for several long minutes before deciding enough was enough.

"Please, Sam, you've got to stop," Callen said softly, leaning towards the other man as Sam raised the glass to his lips and took another sip. The ice cubes crinkled faintly in the glass. Sam was usually a wine-lover, but lately, he had resorted to stronger stuff.

Callen had watched his partner's fall for weeks, but he hadn't been able to stop it. And he would continue to be unable to stop it since he was the reason for it. Callen sighed and hung his head.

"I'm sorry, partner," he murmured softly before standing and stepping away. He didn't try to make physical contact with Sam, feeling bereft by knowing that it wouldn't connect, wouldn't make a difference.

He moved soundlessly through the bar, easily slipping around people standing in his way. The bar was well frequented today, many of their friends appearing for the occasion.

Callen turned in a circle when someone called his name. Surprised, his eyes fell upon his years-long operations manager. He moved over to where she was at the fringes of the gathering, occupying a seat near the wall. He leaned his shoulder against the wall, settling himself beside her without sitting down. „Hetty," he greeted, his head tilted to the side, "when did you get here?"

"I was here before you, Mr. Callen," she answered sagely.

"You were?"

"Hm-mmm." The murmur was soft, her head tilted slightly in an aborted nod.

Callen sighed but kept the words from tumbling out of his mouth - they wouldn't make a difference. His eyes slipped away from her frame, finding his partner who was still drinking alone in the corner of the bar.

"You're worried about him."

Hetty's words brought his attention back to her. "He's my partner," Callen shrugged, knowing it was all the explanation she needed to understand his plight. "I'm not sure he can pick himself up again. He's lost a lot," he murmured softly.

"So have you," Hetty countered, "and yet you always kept going."

Callen scoffed. "Please, we both know it's not comparable. I lost everything I had when I was young. Ever since then, I've made sure not to get too attached so another loss wouldn't matter. Also, I never lost a wife. And then…" he gestured somewhat helplessly.

Hetty nodded, "quite true, Mr. Callen. And yet, Mr. Hanna will make his way out. It will take time, but he'll get there." She made to reach for him, her hand never quite connecting before she slipped off her chair and left him to his own contemplation, having imparted her wisdom on him again. He watched her move over to another group of people that Callen recognized. He would catch up with them later. For now, he gave the two men a welcoming nod before returning his eyes to his partner, watching him from afar.

Eventually, Callen dragged his attention away from Sam - at least for a while - instead moving around the room, mingling without mingling. He'd always been good at drifting through a room without being noticed, but it didn't compare to now.

His steps led him to one of the small, round tables where Nell and Eric sat, nursing a glass of beer each. Callen watched them before sliding into the seat that Eric wordlessly vacated when his glass was empty. He'd seen them drift apart, neither knowing how to hold onto the thread that had bound them together before. It had fluctuated in strength over the years, changing between colleagues, friends and lovers, but it was thin and fraying these days. There had been some chemistry between them, but to Callen, it had often seemed like they turned to each other because it was the safe bet, like they should be compatible when everyone expected the geeks to hook up and remain within their own little world. What they'd been had seemed stable, and it had a foundation, but it lacked the spark. So, in a way it wasn't completely surprising to see them drifting apart. Crisis had the power to make or break people and relationships.

Callen focused back on Nell when she sighed softly, her sigh less for being abandoned (even if likely only temporarily) by her partner and more for the situation in general.

He titled his head to the side, watching the younger woman with a small smile. "Life's not fair, Nell. We all know that," Callen said softly, studying her closely.

"This is so hard," she muttered under her breath, her eyes focused on the glass in her hand.

Callen pressed his lips together, keeping himself from reaching out to her, knowing it wouldn't help her. He glanced up when someone else stepped closer.

Nell's head came up as well and Callen stepped away from his perch when Fatima put a hand on Nell's shoulder. He sent a smile towards both women while he moved away to give them both some room.

Sam was the same as before and Callen resolutely turned away from his best friend, dragging his worries with him to the other side of the room and leaning against the bar, brooding alone.

It was only a short while later that a new presence appeared at his side. Callen glanced over, finding someone else he hadn't expected to see here. "Tuhon," he greeted, his lips pulling into an involuntary smile.

The other man grinned, lips stretching wide into that devil-may-care-smile that had always been parts intimidating and parts friendly.

"So, you led him by the hand. Out of that dark room with the flame," Tuhon spoke up, nodding towards where Sam was still seated, drawing Callen's attention back to his partner yet again. His words referred to the riddle he'd put before Sam and Callen the last time they met up with the headhunter.

Callen sighed and dragged a hand through his short hair. "Yeah, I made him walk out of there. It was the best I could do," he said slowly, one shoulder raised in an aborted shrug.

Tuhon watched him, his eyes taking in his features and his stance, cataloguing, calculating and understanding. He'd always had a canny ability to read him, and Callen wondered if that was because at the heart, the two men were more alike than first glance suggested. They were both at the core hardened survivors - or maybe not anymore, but they had been - and they were warriors who had seen things Joe Average couldn't imagine in their wildest dreams.

"And yet you're second guessing your choice," Tuhon eventually stated, his words less accusing than they should be. Instead, there was understanding in them.

Again, Callen's eyes drifted to his partner. "He was never meant to walk out of there alone. It's not in his genetic make-up. Mine, sure. But not his. I made him walk out of there alone and it may just break him."

"Nah," Tuhon shook his head, "the warrior still has his trident and it's still sharp. He will be fine."

"And the tribe of one?" Callen asked, his voice quiet and searching to his own ears.

Before Tuhon could answer his question, another man stepped up beside them, his presence loud and boisterous even if he hadn't said one word. Callen glanced up and grinned at the man, who was looking just as scruffy and rugged as he always had. Before he could greet his old friend, both their attention was grabbed by the bickering couple behind the bar. Even though it was subdued, Kensi and Deeks were bickering. It had always been a cornerstone of their relationship, and Callen was gratified to see that despite the circumstances, they held onto it. He hoped it would be of comfort to them. It fell to them to hold things together when everything was on a razor's edge, threatening to tumble down.

"I knew back then that she could fall for the scruffy type. With a little more time, I could have convinced her to fall for me."

Callen turned his head away from the couple towards the man beside him and he laughed. "That never would have happened," he contradicted with a drawl, leaning into the bar. He idly noted that Tuhon had withdrawn. A curious glance showed him in conversation with Hetty at the other side of the bar.

"Oh, come on. It could have," his old friend needled, and Callen turned back to him.

"No, it definitely couldn't," Callen stood firm on his belief, shaking his head.

The other man scowled at him while leaning back and squinting as if to glower - it looked more painful than threatening. "Why not?" the question was a plaintive whine of disappointment.

Callen smirked, "because contrary to you, my old friend, Deeks still got class."

"Ouch, you wound me."

"Too late for that. Also, you know it's true," Callen shrugged, his lips still pulled into a grin.

The sigh was more token protest than anything else and he laughed, finding real merriment for the first time in a long while. It wasn't only Sam who struggled with what had happened.

"So, how have you been, old friend?" Callen asked, turning his full attention to the man he hadn't seen in many years.

"Ah, you know. Not too bad. Once you get over it, it's somewhat liberating…" he drawled, "in a disturbing way I guess," he ended contemplatively, tapping his finger against his lips.

"Disturbing?" Callen laughed, "of all the disturbing things you did in your life? The thing with the horse took the cake. Nothing could compare to that."

His old friend gave an easy nod and a shrug, his lip curled in an expression somewhere between amused and disgusted. A moment later, his expression turned worried. "You didn't tell Hetty, did you?"

"Hetty always knew, Mr. Renko."

Both men flinched when their operations manager suddenly turned up behind them. The shared a glance, both ducking their heads, feeling like children caught with their hands in the cookie jar.

"Still ears like a bat, I see," Renko said and Callen gave him an incredulous 'what are you doing? look that the other man ignored with an eyeroll. "It's not like she can't do anything about it, now can she?" he hissed at Callen under his breath before pursing his lips, "at least I don't think she can."

"Are you absolutely sure about that, Mr. Renko?" Hetty asked, her eyebrows arched and her gaze as steady and penetrating as it had always been.

Callen found himself laughing at the worried expression that crept onto his friend's face. Hetty hadn't lost her touch, still managing to intimidate without saying or doing much. Sliding away from Renko, he left his friend to his fate, ignoring the "traitor," being called after him. He merely glanced back and gave the other man a wink and a wave, laughing as Renko paled when Hetty sidled closer.

Callen found himself drawn back to where his partner sat, greeting the woman who had perched herself close to her husband.

"I'm sorry I couldn't keep my promise," he told her instead of a greeting.

Michelle's eyes flashed up to him and she gave him a sad smile. "You kept it for as long as you could. I couldn't have asked for more."

Callen shrugged before lowering his head. "Wasn't long enough," he muttered.

"He's a strong man, Callen. He'll be ok."

"I really hope so," Callen told her softly, his worried eyes on his partner who wouldn't feel their presence even though they were within touching distance.

His death had devastated the team and Callen had been forced to watch from afar, unable to do anything to stabilize them. He still wasn't sure if they would be able to pull together or if the team would fracture and disperse.

His partner had of course taken it the hardest. It had always been Callen's fear that the loss of his life would deal a devastating blow to Sam that he couldn't recover from.

He could only hope the others were right in saying that Sam would recover.

Amidst his contemplation, Hetty, Renko and Tuhon drew closer, perching themselves close to Michelle and Callen, all of them watching Sam closely.

"You shaped him as much as he shaped you," Tuhon said, his words directed at Callen. "Now, you must let go… but at the same time, you'll have a hand in anything he does from now on. Remember: Your hand will be with his when he draws his weapon, guiding it as much as all the other warriors who have left their impression on him. Your hand will be with him, just as much as mine or Hetty's or Michelle's will be. Don't doubt what you've done. The 'tribe of one' sacrificed himself so he the 'warrior with the trident' remained safe. Sometimes, that's how it must be."

Xxxxxxx

Note: yeah, maaaaaybe I should have put up a Character Death-warning, but truth is: I didn't want to. I did warn you about the supernatural themes though, so I think that just about covers it.

By the way/for those of you wondering: the title Samain (or Samhain) refers to the Gaelic festival marking the end of the harvest season and beginning of winter. It is beginning on the evening of 31 October and celebrated through to the 1st of November. It is believed that over time Samhain and All Saints'/All Souls' influenced each other and eventually syncretized into the modern Halloween.