'For my sweet daughter always in my heart'

The sound of two children laughing in the distance distracted G Callen and he glanced over his left shoulder, envious of their carefree existence. He didn't even notice the telephoto lens pointing straight at him from the bushes across the road.

He looked back down at the card and a sudden rush of light-headedness hit him. He put the card carefully back in the yellow flowers and crawled to the nearby palm tree. Slumping back against it, he closed his eyes until it had passed. He reached into his pocket and pulled out the phone – his fourth in the past few days.

"Hey, it's me. Can you come get me?"

"What's up, G?"

"'S'okay. I'm at Lakeside Cemetery. Just don't feel like driving back."

His ride would be there in 30 minutes. G pulled up his hood and rested his head against the tree, staring straight ahead across the lake.

He was tired but thoughts constantly whirled round his head. All this time he wasn't alone. And yet he was. For eleven years he'd had a sister. And yet he hadn't. He saw flashes of blonde hair but couldn't remember her face, her smell, her favourite colour.

He looked down at the scar on his wrist and had a vague memory of falling off the cart. Faster, faster. But nothing after that. Not the aftermath, not the day he was taken away from her. Nothing. He closed his eyes, thinking it would somehow make dredging through his memory easier.

Nothing.

Now there didn't seem to be enough air in his lungs. He snapped open his eyes and took in a deep breath, noticing for the first time the twinge in his ribs. Flipping the car. That's why he'd called Sam. Because he couldn't face Hetty if he'd damaged this one by falling asleep at the wheel.

Sam stood next to G and softly called his name. He could see that he was dozing and didn't want to alarm him. He got no response so reached down and shook his left shoulder.

"G?"

G woke immediately and sucked in his breath, brushing off Sam's hand.

"You ok, buddy?"

"Sure, just need a ride home"

"You don't have a home, so where are you going this time, G? You look like crap and you smell pretty ripe. How many days have you had those clothes on. Two ?"

"Three. And I don't have a personal hygiene problem"

Sam snorted and offered his hand. By now G was stiff from sitting beneath the tree and gripped Sam's hand tightly as he rose. Sam noticed the unsteadiness in his friend but let it pass.

"Sofa's free at my place, and I'm not taking `no` for an answer. C'mon"

He wanted to ask him how he was doing but knew G would say "okay" or "fine" or "can we talk about it later?" so he didn't try. He could see that G had had enough for today so they walked the short distance to his car in silence.

By now it was dusk and they were only a couple of minutes away from Sam's place.

"You want me to call in at the Drive Thru?"

"Nah, I'm good."

"When was the last time you ate?"

"Dunno. Thursday maybe. What day is it today again?"

"It's Saturday G, and you need to eat something"

"Don't feel like it today…tho I hope you've got some donuts in for breakfast"

"How the Hell is your ass so skinny when you eat nothing but crap?"

"It always helps if you don't supplement your diet with unnecessary foodstuffs like fruit and veg"

Sam couldn't resist a smile as they pulled into the driveway. By the time he'd hopped out G was just opening his car door. He could see that G was struggling and loitered close by. When he stumbled Sam was quick to steady him and guide him to the front door. G pursed his lips but didn't protest.

G dropped on to the sofa while Sam disappeared into the kitchen. When he came back with a glass of water G was looking distinctly paler.

"You in pain? What gives, and no bullshit G"

"Think I tweaked my ribs in the crash. Bloody seatbelt nearly cut me in half. I'm going to complain to the manufacturer. Reckon it's a design flaw."

"Why don't you have a shower? It'll make us both feel better and I can incinerate those clothes"

Sam presented him with a towel and a box of aspirins and G disappeared into the bathroom. Five minutes later he was done (quick showers were just one legacy left by the orphanages) and had the large bath towel wrapped a couple of times around his waist. As soon as he saw Sam he knew that it was a mistake.

A grimace spread across Sam's face. "Shit, G. You never said that it was this bad"

Sam stared at the angry red line starting at G's left shoulder, crossing his body and disappearing under the towel. It was a perfect imprint of the seatbelt. Shades of purple had begun to feather the edges as the bruises developed.

"We are going to the ER"

"Don't be ridiculous, it's not that bad. I took the aspirins and I'll go see the Doc as soon as we get in tomorrow. I promise. Right now I just need custody of your sofa and some clean clothes"

"Please" he pleaded.

Sam realised that he wasn't going to win. They both knew that the only time G ever went to the ER was when he was unconscious. But each time Sam tried; Albert Einstein would have loved their foolish ritual.

"Ok, but if you die on my sofa I am not filling in all that paperwork. I'm just going to dump you on the street."

G settled into the sofa, arranging himself carefully to avoid the various twinges. He knew that he'd been living off adrenaline for the past few days and now he was spent. He pulled the blanket up to his neck.

He didn't think that he'd ever been this tired or this wretched in his life. If only he could turn back the clock to when all this had started. To that Thursday morning when Ziggy was blaring out at the beach.

Before he'd heard of Eugene Keelson or Karim Akbari or Hanna Lawson or Amy Callen.

Before he was Baby Brother.

Before he'd had a family.

Before his life had been turned upside down.

He felt his eyes filling with the sorrow and blinked back the tears. He needed to get a grip now, otherwise he was afraid that he wouldn't come back.

His eyes were closing.

God, it was all so much simpler.

Before Thursday…