A/N: Thank you to those who left me kind reviews and messages. I was reminded not to write out of guilt or to feel rushed. Fan Fiction is for FUN.

Chapter 33: Three Wishes

Callen was now safely seated in a vinyl arm chair, dressed in his pale blue, plaid pajama pants (courtesy of Hetty), white ankle socks, and a loosely fitting hospital gown. He seemed to be trying his best to keep his expression neutral. But as soon as the Physical Therapist had exited the room, Kensi, Deeks, and Sam all noticed that he had, once again, begun to shiver.

Sam shook his head, a slightly amused look on his face. His partner, who was an expert at schooling his emotions, was not even close to being able to hide the fact that he was freezing half to death. Sam wasted no time in pulling a blanket from the bed, covering his trembling friend, making sure the top of the blanket was high enough to tuck behind his shoulders.

Sam recognized the unspoken 'thank you' in his partner's brief glance.

With Callen a little more comfortably settled into his chair, Kensi refocused her attention on the Chinese food that had been placed on the shelf earlier. She dug into the bag and removed a large, empty Styrofoam cup. "I'm going to the nurses' station and get some hot water for Callen's tea."

"I'll go grab us some bottled waters," Deeks added before the two headed out into the hall.

Sam rolled the bedside table over in front of his partner. "Anything you need, G?"

Callen opened his mouth to speak, but was interrupted. "And don't say your clothes," Sam said before Callen could get a word out.

Callen simply closed his mouth as if to say 'never mind, then.'

"Besides clothes, which you are not getting, anything else you need?"

G thought for a moment. "It's too cold in here. How 'bout a bond fire."

A half grin appeared on Sam's face just as Kensi and Deeks returned with the water. He shook his head at Callen. "I don't think they'll let us build a bond fire in here, G," he said playfully, pointing to the fire sprinkler head in the ceiling above them.

Kensi placed the cup of hot water on the table in front of Callen and began distributing the containers of food to the appropriate people.

"Ok, partner," Sam continued while dropping the teabag into the hot water. "You've used up two of your three wishes. You have one more."

Callen put on an annoyed expression. "But you haven't granted any wishes," he argued, his voice tired and weak. "I have three left."

"Your first two were ridiculous. You lost out on those. No way I'm getting you some clothes, and it breaks all kinds of safety regulations to build a fire in a hospital room. Ask me for something more realistic."

A sudden chill hit Callen, causing him to clutch his painful ribs with both arms and practically double over in the chair. Although Sam tried not to show it, it was obvious he genuinely felt bad for his friend. Marty and Kensi halted their activity, concern showing on their faces, as well.

A little while later, when the shaking had lessened, Callen was able to sit up straighter in his chair. He took several shallow breaths before squinting up at his worried partner. "I guess… a magic carpet is… out of the question then."

Sam chuckled while removing the drenched teabag from Callen's cup. "Just shut up and drink your tea," he barked and carefully pushed the rolling table even closer to his friend.

"You're a useless genie," Callen mumbled before slipping his trembling arms from beneath the blanket, picking up the cup, and taking a small sip of tea.

For a moment, Sam considered holding the cup of hot liquid for G, but thought it might be more coddling than he really wanted to demonstrate in front of the younger team members.

Over the next half hour, Sam, Kensi, and Deeks ate their meals, during which time the younger two engaged in trivial conversation: discussion of whether or not it was safe to throw Hetty a party the next time her Birthday rolled around, how many lockpick kits each of them had lost in their careers, who liked/hated cilantro, and sharing of hacks for getting rid of the stink in their workout attire. Deeks would occasionally have to swat Kensi's hand away when her fork would come close to breaching his takeout container. In spite of the light-hearted dialog, Deeks and Kensi were very much aware that Sam was keeping a close eye on his partner, ready to assist with the cup of hot tea if the intense shivering reemerged.

Kensi was gathering up the empty containers and other trash when H, the Physical Therapist returned. "Hey guys," he said, quickly surveying the room. His eyes stopped on the tired, but now seemingly slightly warmer patient. "I know I'm here just a little later than I told you I'd be. But I decided to go ahead and complete my documentation for the day before coming by to get you back to bed. Figured the extra few minutes would do you some good."

Although G didn't appear to be listening, he glanced up and gave the therapist a grateful nod.

The shivering was now down to a minimum so Callen's slow journey back to the bed went much smoother than before. Once the bedrails were up, Sam didn't waste any time reapplying the multiple layers of blankets.

But Callen's momentary look of contentment was quickly overridden by that of troubled thoughts.

With the therapist gone, and Deeks and Kensi seated next to each other on the couch, (Marty now listing all the times Monty had "saved the day"), Sam took this opportunity to check on his friend. He made his way to the other side of the bed and took a seat right next to Callen.

Callen seemed to be lost in his own thoughts and something was definitely bothering him.

"Hey G," Sam said softly. "You okay?"

At that moment, Olivia, the evening shift nurse, entered the room to take vitals. Callen swiped his dry lips with his tongue and exchanged his worried expression for one of apathy. "I'm good, Sam… Really."

Sam knew G wasn't too keen on "sharing" anyway, and he sure wasn't going to talk with other people around. So, he decided not to push the issue, for now.

A while later, when Callen's supper tray was presented to him, he stared at it harshly and then turned his head away. When Sam took a step toward the bed, Kensi reached and grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks. "Easy, Sam," she whispered.

Realizing that the others had also detected the surfacing of Callen's somber mood, Sam nodded at her; he understood. But the fact still remained that his partner needed to start eating if there was any hope of him gaining enough strength to recover from all he'd gone through. The trick was going to be how to be forceful enough to get through to his stubborn friend, without pushing him into that dark pit he seemed to be circling.

Sam started toward the bed, but at a slower pace than before Kensi had stopped him. He raised the head of the bed a little higher and opened the lid to the broth. "Time to eat, G."

Callen showed no signs of interest, or even that his partner had spoken to him.

Sam placed both palms on the siderails of the bed and leaned down a little closer to Callen. "Look, G. I know you don't want to be here, but you've got to start eating or they'll never let you leave. Can you at least eat the broth?" he gently pleaded. When he didn't get a response, Sam let out a small sigh. "Just pretend you're sitting on the beach eating one of those double-double burgers you like so much."

A few seconds passed before Callen finally responded by briefly making eye contact with Sam. He then scowled down at the bowl of dark liquid, and mumbled, "My imagination isn't that good."

G paused, as if preparing his stomach for what was to follow, picked up the soupspoon with his left hand, and awkwardly dipped the utensil into the bowl. After swallowing a spoonful of broth, he scrunched his nose. "I hate hospitals," he muttered.

A smile spread across Sam's face. "I never would have guessed," he said, his words oozing with sarcasm. "At least now you know you're in a hospital."

Callen was about to take the second bite when he stopped and looked up at his hovering friend. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Sam, still smiling, shook his head. "Nothing. Just eat your soup. I'm not going into the field with a partner who's too scrawny to have my back."

After a lingering glare directed at Sam, Callen reluctantly began consuming the lukewarm broth.

It wasn't long before everyone noticed that Callen's chills were returning. Hetty arrived just as he had given up on the idea of eating and was putting his spoon down.

Without a word, everyone watched their petite boss put her handbag and some items for Callen in the closet, place a tall thermos on the shelf beside the Tootsie Pop basket, and come over to the side of the bed. With pursed lips, she peered over the top of her glasses down into the, only half-eaten, bowl of broth. "I received a message from Dr. Lee's office," she said while picking up the spoon from the food tray and placing it back into her Lead Agent's hand. "He will be here just a few minutes past six to assess Mr. Callen's condition."

Callen starred down at the spoon he was, once again, holding. His boss's unspoken message was quite clear – You're not done yet. Lacking the energy to protest, he let out a small breath, made an attempt to will his hand to stop shaking, and slowly resumed eating the unappealing liquid.

"Oh, and regarding our current case," Hetty continued, "the information Mr. Hanna and Mr. Deeks gathered today has proved quite useful. The men at the apartment are definitely involved. But what we don't know, is why Antonio Zamora is here and what he has planned.

Callen dropped his spoon on the tray, at the mention of Zamora's name. He looked up at Hetty with fear in his eyes.

Deeks' eyes narrowed. "We know he's staying at the Elegante. If he's such a baddie, why can't we just go pick him up?"

"Our analysts are still working to put all the pieces together," Hetty explained. "You know how this works, Mr. Deeks. We can't go in, guns a'blazing, before we have solid proof of his plans, and evidence that connects him to all the other major players. His home base may be Mexico, but he has ties to organized crime in several countries. He has slipped through our fingers twice before. We just can't allow that to happen again."

"Twice?!" Sam asked with a surprised tone in his voice.

Hetty's gaze met Callen's. "Yes, Mr. Hanna. The first encounter was before you were with NCIS."

G pressed his lips together tightly, turned his head away, and stared coldly at the partially opened blinds.

The Operations Manager turned to face the rest of the team. "Anyway," her tone lifted as if attempting to dispel the overwhelming dread now present in the room. "Just keep your phones close. Could be days, could be weeks. But we need to be ready to move at a moment's notice."

Hetty turned her attention back to her Senior Agent who had now begun to tremble. Unsure if he was experiencing a sudden intense chill, or was shaking at the mere thought of their suspect running loose in their city, Hetty did the only thing she knew to comfort him; she pulled another royal blue blanket from the closet and added it to his already mounting layers of covers.

Realizing that, under the circumstances, Callen was not going to finish his broth, Hetty removed the supper tray from the table. She then made her way to the shelf that contained the thermos, poured some of its steaming contents into a Styrofoam cup, and carried it to where Callen was laying.

"Mr. Callen?" She waited to continue until G had made eye contact. "I prepared some hot tea for you. I know it won't be as enjoyable, drinking from a Styrofoam cup, but I'm hoping it will help warm you."

Callen only stared at her blankly.

"It also has great medicinal benefits. It's my special chrysanthemum tea." Her tone was as if she were nudging him to 'take the bait.' "…with wolfberries," she added.

Callen quirked an eyebrow at her and began raising the cup toward his lips.

Sam suddenly took a step forward. "Don't do it, G! It tastes terrible."

Hetty swiped the air with her palm, as if shooing the big ex-SEAL away. "Oh, Mr. Hanna. I've checked this batch of tea myself. It's just fine."

After a lingering look at his partner, Callen cautiously took a sip of Hetty's famous tea. He looked up and gave Sam a small smile. "Not moldy, Sam" he said hoarsely. "See?... She likes me best."

"Now, Mr. Callen. You know I don't have favorites." Hetty smiled, pleased that her boy was, at least temporally, in a more positive mental state, and that he was drinking his tea.

After tidying up the items in the closet, Hetty looked at her watch. "Dr. Lee is due any minute. Is there anything I can do to make you more comfortable, Mr. Callen?"

G placed his cup of tea on the bedside table and thought for a moment. Without making eye contact, he uttered a not so unexpected list of 'wants.' "Yeah. Take this thing out of my arm," he stated grumpily while raising his IV adorned left hand, "give me my clothes, and get me out of this place."

"No. No. And definitely no, Mr. Callen," Hetty responded firmly to her frowning agent.

Sam rolled his eyes. Kensi laughed out loud. And Deeks responded with a toothy grin, "Ouch, Callen. Looks like you need to find yourself a new genie."