Chapter 16
Pins, Bullets and Journals
A/N: Again, thank you so much for reading this story and letting me know whether or not you like it. Please do enjoy what comes next. And yep, it's a short chapter only. Ran out of inspiration, and am struggling on the next part.
Kni®benrots
Disclaimer: All incidents which come by in this story are simple fictitious. All, except the team of NCIS Los Angeles which was carefully composed by CBS, Shane Brennan and R. Scott Gemmill. I gladly use them for this story.
Mosley shook her head. "That's on me, I suppose." And she explained, more or less to Hetty as well.
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
Los Angeles || Cedars-Sinai hospital
Mosley's gaze went to the former Operations Manager of NCIS in the city and back to the surgeon as she continued. "Agent Callen was hurt badly during an unauthorized and off the book mission in Mexico. In fact, he came back with a punctured lung, internal bleedings and a broken vertebrae. He… well, he was worse off than anyone else. The other team members worked hard to get the case load low, and once agent Callen was back up, he had a lot of paper work to catch up with. I figured… well, actually I allowed the others to take some time off, while he dealt with files and with medical updates, physical tests and checkups with a PT, until he was fit for field work again. I hoped and assumed, that he'd start once the others of the team came back. So it was only him who was around."
"Recovering is something quite different from having some time off. It's hard work too." Hetty shook her head, detesting the idea itself. Still, she boxed the thought for the time being. "Angelo must've got word about that and decided this was the perfect time."
"You may understand that to me, as a surgeon, it matters less why decisions were made. And even less how you run your office, either of you. However, it is important to know he was wounded like you just clarified. From what I can tell is that a near-drowning mostly causes a pneumonia. Now this comes very, very shortly after the previous lung damage, called a pneumothorax. In order to prevent complications we need to keep him ventilated for as long as it takes. Already, a severe inflammation set in."
"Not good," Hetty agreed.
"It isn't. Not with all the other wounds his body recently endured. The same goes for the bullet which remained in the bone, like it was explained by you. Due to torture or the accident he had, it kind of escaped the bone structure, leaving the clavicle beyond repairable. We replaced the collarbone, by one made of carbon fiber," Lee told the women. "To let everything heal, including the shoulder, tendons and muscles, I decided to use a shoulder cast."
"He won't like that," Hetty said. "However, I understand your decision, Mr. Lee."
The surgeon acknowledged her consideration and concluded "All we can do is wait and see how your agent is healing, both physical and mentally." He shook hands with Mosley and embraced the small yet strong woman whom he'd met often. Too often, in fact.
o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)o)
Los Angeles || Cedars-Sinai hospital – some hours later
He struggled to breath in once again, but failed. Something blocked his throat and Callen remembered he was drowning. He flinched, yet it was impossible to move his upper body and the panic hit in, again and harder than before. He started sweating, scared to open his eyes to face his faith.
No matter how hard he wanted to ignore his feeling of fear, something else caught his attention too —bleeps. A bomb? The beeps were continuous. Never too steady. It sounded erratic and it reminded him how close he had been to escape from Angelo's hands. He wanted to sigh, but again, there was no room to do so. He couldn't breathe in and he finally gave up.
His will to fight this fear simply wasn't there. Sam would have manage to save anyone in situations like this, even him. Both from drowning and by disassembling a bomb. But he remembered Sam wasn't around. So now all was lost. Everyone was too late.
Callen gladly sank back into the oblivion of unconsciousness.
It was nearly scary to be around and have to watch. "He's struggling. Hetty, is he really okay?" Eric asked the older woman in a hushed voice. He actually didn't want to be in here too long, but with the absence of company for Hetty, he had agreed to come. Both of them sat next to Callen's bed.
Hetty slowly nodded. "The anesthesia is leaving his body. Never a nice sight, but he probably won't remember a thing, Mr. Beale. And he will be alright, you and I have to trust that."
"How can you be so sure?" the Tech wanted to know. He simply had to ask. Deep down he felt guilty. Guilty for being the first and only one who informed Callen what was going on, and for being nearly too late to save the other man from drowning. For having him being shot. For not being the one who actually bring the team leader back to the land of the living.
"How can I be so sure?" Hetty smiled at Eric. "Because, young man, I refuse to believe differently. I saw him, back then in Mexico —".
Eric's eyes widened. "You were there?!"
Hetty nodded. "Why, of course, Mr. Beale. You should know better than me not checking my team." She shook her head and said "Sure, I am aware of the fact that NCIS' Executive Assistant Director for Pacific Operations Shay Mosley runs the office at this very moment, but rest assured I still consider all of you to be part of 'my' team. So, where were we, Mr. Beale? Right… as I said, he looked much worse in Mexico. And before, remember the fifth of May?"
"Of course I do. We all do."
"Indeed. We all do. He's in a much better condition at this point than he was back then, I dare to think."
Eric hummed softly. All he remembered from back then was that he'd hated to visit the hospital back then and that he worked behind the screens a much as he could, just to avoid, well, scenes like these. Both fell silent for a moment, until Eric asked "How... how do they do... this?" he gestured at Callen, at the bed, the machines. "Sam says Callen hates needles, and that Callen most likely escaped hospitals more often than anyone else. But he never hesitated to hurry to help those innocent kids. I think though that he knew it might be dangerous."
She nodded slowly in agreement. "This is what we do… It is not a real choice he made, it is some sort of nature one has to have. And of course, Mr. Beale, there is no earthy way he knows exactly when he walks straight into the lion's den or not. But you and I both know how Mr. Callen detests vulnerability and helplessness and he will get restless once he's able to walk around. It probably has got to do with his youth. He's not known for being the most patient patient."
Her voice was rather sad, Eric thought. But then, he remembered the very first moment he saw Callen re-entering the new headquarters, after the shooting all those years ago in May, the special bond Callen and Hetty was obvious. Only later they all heard it dated from earlier years. Of course she was worried, perhaps even more than he himself was. Then another thought crossed his mind.
"This vulnerability you were talking about… You think he's still at large? And if so — it goes for you too Hetty. How are we going to deal with that?"
A snorting chuckle came from the older woman and for the briefest moment Eric wondered if his question had sounded stupid in Hetty's opinion. Her reply however didn't come, since her attention went to Callen, who started to stir and shiver.
He heard the voices in a strange and muffled way. If only he was able to warn them. Perhaps they could help… The beeps still were around. If only he could get help. He knew he had to try harder.
He opened his eyes and much to his relief he saw Eric sitting next to Hetty.
"Mr. Callen… it's good to see you back with us," Hetty smiled.
He wanted to answer, but simply couldn't. It took a few seconds before he finally realized why. Callen shook his head and touched the tube, distressed because of the fact he couldn't talk and that, with every swallow, he felt the unnatural material move.
"It's okay… You're okay," Eric said in his usual optimistic style. "Never mind, you know what? I'll get someone to look at that — that thing."
He got up in a rush and left the room.
This story is going to end, the final chapter is next to come.