Chapter 19
Boulevard of Broken Dreams
Disclaimer: All credits for the great characters of NCIS-Los Angeles and the series itself, go to Shane Brennan, his writing team and CBS. As ever, I'm grateful being able to use the characters for a random story.
As I mentioned before, I only visited Los Angeles twice, I am no native English speaker, so please forgive my mistakes…
Kni®benrots
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Los Angeles || On the 101
"So, we're on our way to Sherman Oaks hospital where Callen is admitted too. Sam Hanna, you know him, he's in there as well."
"I know, I mean, we've been in contact. But I can't remember having met so far. He called me though."
Nell glanced sideways. The voice of the other woman sounded just as tired as she looked. "I could have picked you up, you know. To save you the trouble of getting to that meeting point.
But..." She stopped. She was pretty sure that the place she stayed right now wasn't known to this woman, nor to Sam Hanna. Callen had done his utmost to get her there and for one reason or another, he chose not to ask his co-worker to drive them there. She wasn't going to tell this woman she just met, about that.
She let a few seconds go by, then said "I could use some fresh air."
"I get that. It's a beautiful day," Nell agreed. "Yet, from what I was told, you were supposed to rest. Did you have somebody to take care of you?"
"Callen arranged that." Elisabeth sighed. It didn't have to do with the small red haired woman who appeared to be all sincere. During the past two years, she learned to keep quiet about her doubts and her feelings. If she shared anything, then not with all those individual people. To her, Callen was the one to share with. Which made her want to know "Anything new about how is he doing, by the way?"
"Not since you contacted Sam," Nell replied.
A soft sigh sounded next to her. Elisabeth shifted a little and Nell heard the rustle of a piece of paper which the other woman unfolded. "Name, relatives, date and place of birth, profession, visa and so on. Practical all you will be needing for my papers. I've got pictures that should fit with everything as well. This way, I can hide in plain daylight"
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Los Angeles || Sherman Oaks Hospital || one hour later
He was glad to be back from the machine, the sounds and instructions and screens and the stares of medical personnel to what was inside of him. As if his head, as if he, was some kind of war zone, a something, a material, instead of a person. It was even better to know that there was no damage to be seen.
"You think I can freshen up a little?" He wanted to know from the nurses who wheeled back his bed to a detested hospital room, grateful to see it was a single room.
There was a headshake. "No shower allowed yet, Sir. But the toilet is okay, and there's soap and towels, underwear and a shirt, so if you want to freshen up a bit, feel free. You need a hand?"
"No, thanks. I'll manage," he replied. He expected Sam had found some real clothes in the back of his car, although he wasn't back yet.
Wobblier than he wanted, he got on his feet once the nurses had left. He hated the paper-thin hospital short and gown he was wearing and would gladly change is for anything that would make him feel more human.
He was nearly ready when he heard the door of his room open again and expecting his partner, he called. "In here, Sam."
The 'okay' that came as a reply wasn't his partner's voice however and all of a sudden Callen was more aware of his vulnerability. Should he use the alarm call? He actually never expected any enemies and he wasn't in the best shape at all. As cautious as possible, he peeked through the door, until he noticed the woman who stood near the table in the room.
Relieved and suddenly very exhausted, he sat back in the bed and pulled up the comforter over his bare legs. Then he took the remote and managed to lift the headrest just far enough to feel comfortable.
"So," he said, looking at her. The feminine dress, the hairdo and the changed color of her hair, it was as if there was a different person now. "You sure look... different. I like the change. Besides, you look much better than a few days ago."
She softly sighed, took a chair and sat down. Then she observed him for a second and answered "Whereas you don't. I'm sorry for that."
He rubbed his hands over his chin, feeling the rasp of his facial hair and wished he'd had the energy to shave later on. He'd seen his face himself minutes ago – it looked the way it felt: terrible.
"Don't be, Elisabeth."
"Remember, it's Ellie from now on," she corrected. Then she continued "This... this wasn't worth it. What if —"
"What-ifs don't count," Callen interrupted. "I've had worse."
She considered his remark and shrugged. "Your friend Sam said Poliakoff will be behind bars."
"She will."
His headache hadn't left and he was aware of his shorter replies.
"Your co-worker, the petite red head who picked me up, took me here. I've had some medical examinations already. Same time as you, I suppose."
"Nell. She leads this team," he smiled briefly.
"So she's your boss..." She raised her brows. "Whatever. All is okay, as long as I take my rest." Leaning back in the chair, she exhaled slowly.
"Anyway, she arranges some papers now. And guess what?"
"What?"
"I've got a brother."
Callen noticed her beam on this remark. It seemed like weeks ago he took her to his secret hideaway, a place he'd never talked about with anyone he knew. It was there when he'd introduced her as his sister.
She went on. "My name is Ellie Clark, born in the small town of Bagdad, Arizona. Our parents moved to Wyndham Village, Phoenix, where we grew up, my brother Gregg and I. Where Gregg chose for a career in baseball and later in the army, I am a teacher. In my passport, there'll be some visa and stamps. One from Istanbul, Turkey, another one, previous, from the Caribbean. I've been working at international schools overseas, you see. Teaching social studies."
Callen smiled on her enthusiasm. "Vivid imagination. It helps Nell too. She's the one who makes up with facts like this.
"You started it all, you know, when you addressed Regina. And I never had a brother."
"No siblings?"
She shook her head, a bit sad now. "None. My mother passed away two years ago. She had a heart attack and my dad… well, I don't remember him. He died in an accident when I was only three years old. The only living relative I have is my grandpa. But the man wouldn't remember me at all; he suffers from Alzheimer and lives in specialized nursing home."
She let her gaze rest on him. "You?"
He shook his head as an automatic reply and moaned when the sharp headache reminded him why he was in a hospital bed right now.
"Sorry for that, Callen," she murmured. "You should get some rest."
She got up and was about to leave.
He stretched his arm and caught hers. "Ellie, whatever you do, keep the place secret from the others. I'll be there in a few days from now. Stay put, will you?"
"Will do."
There were voices in the corridor that came closer too.
"And Ellie?"
She didn't speak, just kept her eyes fixed on him.
"I'd like to have a sister like you." Callen said.
Her eyes clouded for a millisecond, then she bowed and softly kissed his forehead. She then let her right hand rest on his cheek, smiled and said "Thanks, Callen, thank you for all. Or should I say, Gregg."
"Who are you?" The door was thrown wide open in the same second those words were spoken curtly.
"Anna, wait!" Sam called after the blonde woman. He stopped when Ellie stretched her back and introduced herself.
"So, you're Anna… I'm Ellie and I was just thanking Callen for what he's done. I guess I'd better leave you and Callen alone then." She turned, smiled once again and left the room.
Sam let his hand rest on her shoulder and smiled broadly at the woman in front of him. "It's good to finally meet you, Ellie."
She immediately liked the large man, feeling she could trust him. He guided her to the small waiting area where Nell and Hetty were in some kind of conversation. Obviously, the two of them had lots to share and he knew better than interfering.
"Can I get you anything to drink?" he asked the other woman.
She shook her head. "If we have to wait a bit longer, perhaps you can tell me more about the past few days and how bad agent Callen is wounded. And what you know by now. Your young boss hardly shared anything. Neither did you, when we talked on the phone."
Sam shared the most obvious facts, knowing he could do so. The questions he had, things his team needed to find out about, he kept to himself. Maybe it was for a later occasion, in the process after the first examinations, interrogations and possible evidence were done.
When Nell's phone rang, all four of them were alerted.
"That was quick," she said. "Paperwork's waiting, Ellie. So we may better go and get it, since the office needs me as well."
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The two of them sat opposite of each other in the small restaurant of the hospital after Nell and Ellie had left and he started telling.
"Blood oozed from the wounds where he was stabbed, and then I saw how he suffered some severe blows to his head. And I actually thought, well..."
"Too much information, mister Hanna. You don't have to explain, really."
He read the worry and the sorrow in her eyes and wondered where he missed the moment that this woman had aged. The last time he sat with her, talking face to face, probably was more than half a year ago.
About a week later, she and Callen had clashed over the fact that Callen found out about many more orphans who probably were brainwashed and became some kind of spies working for Hetty. Had it been as some kind of American answer to the Russian Noble Maidens?
And as a matter of fact, now Sam came to think of it, he never heard Callen mentioning that memorable discussion afterwards, although his friend had told him about being a 'subject' in the system. Nor that he asked about it, something he now regretted.
But Hetty... well, she disappeared soon after that, to Syria he knew.
Come to think about that, Sam didn't remember when she returned, and what the real reason was for her absence.
He slowly exhaled, not really knowing what to say. "Thank you for contacting Anna. It's good Callen has her around."
She hummed softly, blew her tea absently and finally asked "How is he really doing, Sam? Is he blaming me for—" She didn't finish her line and he didn't know if he should reply. And so he kept it light. "Well, I guess Callen still struggles with his Superman issues, thinking he's forever young. But don't we all, Hetty?"
So many adventures given up today
So many songs we forgot to play
So many dreams swinging out of the blue
Oh let it come true
Forever young
I want to be forever young
Do you really want to live forever
Forever, and ever?
[Alphavill – Forever Young]