Chapter 42: Food Fight

G flinched.

Sam sat up straight from where he had been semi-reclined on the couch. He moved forward on the crunchy, plastic cushion so that he could get a better look at his partner who was seated in the high-back chair to his left.

Callen had been sacked out for the past forty-five minutes and Sam knew the blanket Nurse Olivia had smuggled out of the Operating Room had lost its warmth by now.

Callen twitched again. This time, his brow furrowed.

A few seconds later, Sam watched as the tension melted away. He does this when he's dreaming. Sam hoped it wasn't a bad one.

Over the next minute or so, he noticed Callen's body tense several more times; each time, just a little more intense than the last.

Suddenly, Callen's entire body jerked and his eyes fluttered open. Good or bad dream, he was done sleeping.

G pulled one arm from beneath the covers and ran a shaky hand over his eyes and down his face. He looked around the room, as if trying to orient himself, until his tired eyes found Sam seated to his right.

"Well, it's about time," Sam said with a playful grin.

"How long was I asleep?" Callen ground out as he painfully pushed himself up straighter in the chair.

"Not long," Sam answered matter-of-factly.

After taking a moment to catch his breath, Callen groggily turned his head to the left and peered at the window blinds. "What time is it?" he asked hoarsely.

"About five o'clock. Your throat dry?"

G's gaze drifted from the window to his lap. "Lil bit."

"I'll be right back."

Callen felt like his mind was processing in slow motion. It seemed like Sam was out of the room for a mere second when he noticed an opened juice cup sitting in front of him. Wait. When did the table get moved here?

"Drink your apple juice, 'sleepy-head'."

Sam sat down on the empty hospital bed, his legs dangling off the side. He watched his friend struggle to complete the simple task of drinking from a juice container. The one o'clock medicine should have worn off hours ago. He made a mental note to ask the Doctor why G might be sleeping so much this afternoon.

Callen had perked up just a little by the time his supper tray arrived thirty minutes later, but it was clear that he wasn't the least bit interested in the food that sat in front of him.

Sam watched silently from where he sat on the side of the bed. G was obviously cold. And judging by the frequent suppressed grimaces, he was in pain. Sam's chest tightened with worry. His partner was weak and way too skinny. He needed some calories in his system; he had only had a few bites of food all day.

Sam waited, hoping Callen would take the initiative to eat some of his meal.

He didn't.

So, Sam finally intervened. "You know, ignoring that's not going to make it disappear."

With a puzzled look, Callen turned his head toward Sam.

"Start eating," Sam clarified, keeping his voice calm.

"I…"

"Don't say you're not hungry," Sam cut in. "Just eat."

Callen gave Sam a look, let out a breath, and then sat frowning at the wall in front of him.

"Do you need help?"

"No," Callen said, grumpily. He scanned his tray for a few moments before picking up the silverware package. After fumbling with it for a while, he finally was able to remove the utensils.

Sam was relieved when G scooped up some rice on his fork. The relief was short-lived when the fork was dropped onto the plate.

Callen sighed softly and then tried again, determination written all over his face. But this time, the rice fell off the utensil just before he got it to his mouth. After the third failed attempt, G sat glaring at the shaky hand that had betrayed him.

Sam hopped down off the side of the bed and removed everything from the supper tray, with the exception of the rice and the fruit. He pulled a chair over and sat down directly in front of G.

Callen lifted his eyes to meet Sam's. "What are you doing?"

Sam took the fork from G's trembling hand. "What does it look like I'm doing?"

"I can feed myself," he claimed stubbornly.

"Apparently not."

Callen set his jaw and turned his head away.

"Don't make this harder than it has to be, G," Sam pleaded. "Doctor Lee said you have to eat and right now, you're shivering too much to feed yourself."

With his eyes still averted, Callen just sat there stubbornly.

"You know I can make you eat this."

Sam noticed a change in G's demeanor; his shoulders were now tense, his nostrils slightly flared, his lips pressed in a tight line. G Callen was definitely peeved. Agitated or not, he still needed food in his system.

Sam tilted his head to the side and let out a breath. "Please, G. I'd really rather not have to force you."

When it was clear G wasn't budging, Sam scooped up some food with the fork, and used his right hand to firmly grasp Callen's jaw.

When the fork approached his mouth, Callen suddenly jerked his head out of his partner's hold, used his splinted right forearm to knock Sam's arm away, while simultaneously giving the tray a quick, sideways shove. The rice, along with small pieces of fruit, went flying, and the tray landed on the tile floor with a loud clatter.

Sam was stunned. He jumped up from his chair and stared down at Callen.

Breathing hard and now clutching his right hand to his chest, Callen looked up at his partner with fire in his eyes. "I don't need… help! I…" G stopped and took in several quick, painful breaths. "Just… leave me… alone!" Callen brought his left hand to his side, holding his ribs that were now screaming at him. "I… don't need you… here." He forced out between breaths.

Sam knew his partner was sick, hurting, and frustrated. But his words still stung. He held up both hands in surrender. "Fine. I'm leaving," he said calmly. He kept his arms raised as he began backing toward the door, being careful to avoid the food that was scattered on the floor.

Callen lowered his head. The yelling, and the sudden burst of emotion, left him in pain and struggling to breathe.

Sam swung the door open and took one more look at his partner before reluctantly exiting the room.

He stopped by the nurses' station to ask if they would call someone to clean the floor in Callen's room. Then he slowly made his way to the waiting area. He had no intention of leaving his friend alone for very long, but at the moment, G needed some space.

Sam had a sick, heavy feeling in his gut as he sat down on one of the couches at the end of the hall. He knew Callen would naturally be resistive of having someone feed him. But Sam hadn't expected him to reach his boiling point so quickly; G had gone from zero to sixty in a matter of seconds. The last thing Sam wanted to do was to trigger another meltdown. G's body was just too weak and beat up. The big SEAL sat with his head in his hands, wondering how they could persuade Callen to start eating.

Sam wasn't sure how much time had passed when Kensi and Deeks appeared in the waiting area. He looked up to see Deeks holding two takeout bags, and Kensi with a tote bag in one hand, a large thermos in the other, and an IPAD case hanging over her shoulder.

"What happened in Callen's room?" Kensi asked while setting the thermos and tote down. "We saw someone in there cleaning up a mess."

Deeks placed his plastic bags on the magazine table. "Did y'all have a food fight?"

"Something like that," Sam said dryly.

"Without me?" Deeks whined.

Sam looked up at Kensi. "Did you see G when you passed by his room?"

"Yes," Kensi answered with a questioning look on her face.

Sam's eyes filled with worry. "Did he look like he was still hurting?"

"I only saw him for a second."

Sam lowered his head and let out a big breath.

Kensi sat down beside the big guy and placed a hand on his knee. "Sam. What happened?"

Sam shook his head. "He needs to eat. And he's shaking too bad to feed himself."

"Tell me about it," Kensi agreed. "Lunch was a disaster."

"I got a little rough with him; but no more than usual. And when I tried to feed him…" Sam paused.

"You coddled your partner," Deeks interjected. "And he wasn't too happy about it."

Sam looked at Marty out of the corner of his eye, signaling that he was 'right on the money.' "That pretty much sums it up. One minute he's sitting there like a stubborn little kid, and the next thing I know… he just explodes."

"So, the food in the floor wasn't an accident this time," Kensi concluded.

"Shoved his tray off the table. Wacked me with his broken hand. And told me to go." After a moment, Sam began speaking again, now sounding as if he were talking to himself. "I know he hurt his hand. And he was having trouble breathing when I left. Think his ribs were hurting pretty bad."

Just then, a young female employee, wearing tan scrubs, came up to them in the waiting area. "Are any of you with the patient in 412?"

Sam rose to his feet. "Yes?"

"I wanted to let you know that I've finished cleaning the room."

"Thank you," Sam said with a polite nod, and then sat back down.

"Floor's still wet, so please be careful."

"Should we give it a minute to dry then?" Kensi asked.

The young lady paused. Concern filled her eyes as she looked at Kensi. "Well… I hope I'm not overstepping, but maybe someone should be with him. He kept his head down the whole time I was in there, but I think he was crying."

In an instant, Sam was back on his feet and headed toward Callen's room.

Deeks and Kensi quickly gathered up all the bags and articles they had come in with, and had to practically jog to catch up to Sam.

Sam stopped just outside the hospital room. He took in a deep, cleansing breath and then entered, with Deeks and Kensi right behind him.

Callen lifted his head and looked up at Sam with red-rimmed eyes.

Sam crouched down in front of Callen, his backside resting on his heels. Now eye-to-eye with G, he mirrored the regret that was written all over his partner's face.

Callen opened his mouth to speak, but all he could manage to get out was a barely audible "I." He swallowed hard and then opened his mouth again.

"I know," Sam said softly. "Me too."