Sam spent the rest of day at Callen's house, returning to his own house when night set in. He didn't think his partner was in any real danger from his injuries, though he would be sore for quite a while from the bruises. After downing a handful of aspirin and drinking more beer than he probably should have, Callen had spent most of the day asleep. Sam had gone out and purchased some Chinese takeout, leaving it in Callen's fridge in case his friend woke up hungry. Callen had thanked him when he arose from his slumber but had not made any move to eat. Sam, knowing his partner, didn't push it.

"I'll pick you up in the morning, since your car is in the shop 'cause it won't start," Sam said drily as he was getting ready to leave. "By then they should have reattached the wires that came 'loose.'"

"Thanks Sam," Callen replied from his prone position on his new sofa. "And Sam," he said as he gave his partner a searching look, "Thanks. For not pushing."

"You sure this is not gonna bite me in the ass later?" Sam asked again. "I hate when that happens. You know it pisses me off."

Callen shook his head slowly and smiled. "Not this one." However, in the back of his mind he was not really sure since he was still puzzled about Joel's remark about the mystery man.

"I'll believe it when I see it," Sam replied as he got up to leave. "I'll pick you up at 9:00 tomorrow morning."

"10:00 and with doughnuts?"

"9:30. And there's Chinese in the fridge. Eat something," Sam countered. "And no more beer until you eat!"

"None left," Callen pouted.

"I picked up some more of that slop you like when I got the Chinese. But it all better be there when I come back in the morning. I'm not kidding G," Sam warned in a menacing tone.

"Yes Mom" Callen wisecracked. "Or you'll take my car away. Wait, you already did that."

"You are impossible."

"And you still love me for it," he returned.

Sam laughed. "Night," he said letting himself out.

Silence settled over the house as Callen debated whether he was hungry. His whole body ached and the fact that there was more beer in his fridge, thanks to Sam, was incredibly tempting. However, the rational part of his mind knew his partner would count the bottles when he picked him up in the morning and if there was one missing, well Sam would get even; maybe not immediately but some time, when Callen least expected it. Deciding he wasn't that keen to have to be constantly watching his back against his partner, he had enough problem with the bad guys, he decided to forgo the beer and instead carefully rearranged himself on the sofa and went back to sleep.

-NCIS-LA-

On time, as always, Sam let himself into G's house exactly at 9:30 the next morning. He announced his presence as he walked in the door so his partner would not use him for target practice. Callen stuck his wet head around the corner and greeted him. "Be ready in 5. Did you bring doughnuts?" he inquired hopefully.

"No," Sam said firmly as he opened G's fridge to check on the contents. Chinese food looked untouched, no surprise there, but on the plus side all the beers were accounted for. Callen came around the corner, shirtless, toweling his hair. Sam observed his partner's black and blue torso and let out a low whistle. "Nice," he noted. "Trying out for the Blue Man Group?"

"Ha, ha," Callen said disappearing then returning with a long sleeved t-shirt. Sam watched silently as his stubborn friend tried to get it over his head without aid.

"Like a hand," he asked nonchalantly.

"No," his mule-gened partner quickly replied.

"Yeah, right," Sam said ignoring Callen's words and assisting him anyway. "Glad you didn't decide to go with buttons. If your buttoning is anything like your shoe tying ability…" Sam let his sentence hang.

"It was lacing, totally different," Callen reminded him.

"Right. You ready?"

"Yep," Callen replied heading for the front door. "How about we pick up some doughnuts on the way in?" he tossed as they headed for the Challenger.

"We're already late," Sam volleyed.

"Then what's a few minutes more?" Callen returned.

"Hetty, giving me a lecture," Sam answered. Point, set, match.

Callen sighed as he carefully eased his sore body into the vehicle.

"Buckle up," Sam commanded.

"Do I have to? It's gonna hurt."

"Tough. This car doesn't start until that seatbelt clicks."

"But we'll be late and Hetty…"

Sam had enough so he reached over his partner, grabbed the seatbelt and buckled him in. "Pray I don't stop short and make it tighten."

A look of horror crossed Callen's face. "You wouldn't."

"Don't tempt me," Sam growled, starting the car and pulling into the street.

Callen settled back into his seat to keep as much looseness in the shoulder belt as possible. "I know you checked the fridge, counted the beers. They were all there weren't they?"

"How do I know you didn't drink one or two and then refill them with water?" Sam asked.

Callen didn't blush often, but he had the decency to do it now. Busted. "How'd you know?"

"You left the opener in the sink. I had put it away before I left."

'Crap,' Callen thought. "Actually, I did what you asked. I drank it after midnight so technically it was a different day."

"I didn't say a time. I said no more beer until you ate. Did you eat?" Callen's silence said it all. Sam glanced over at his chasten comrade and grinned. "Sucks having an observant partner don't it."

"In more ways than you'll ever know," Callen answered. "So about those doughnuts?"

-NCIS-LA-

The partners arrived at the building bearing doughnuts. "I only did it 'cause I felt sorry for you. That and you beg worse than a three-year-old," Sam said as they entered the building.

"Thanks," Callen mumbled around his second doughnut of the morning.

"Gentleman. How nice of you to join us," Hetty greeted them sarcastically as they came down the corridor.

Unable to reply because his mouth was full, Callen simply held out the box of doughnuts.

"Ah, no. Powdered sugar does not go well with my outfit," she said with a pointed look at the front of Callen's navy blue t-shirt that now had a distinctive white pattern on it.

Plopping the box on the sideboard, Callen attempted to brush the sugar off his shirt while swallowing the object that caused it.

"When you are done with your grooming, please meet the rest of the team up in Ops, Mr. Callen. She gave Sam an accusatory glare as she walked by on her way to the stairs.

"What?" Sam said trailing after her. "I told him we'd be late if we stopped. I told him you'd be mad but you know he never listens," he complained to their Boss as they climbed to the second floor.

"You are bigger than he is, Mr. Hanna. Perhaps you should use that to your advantage once in a while," Hetty suggested matter-of-factly.

"Don't be giving him ideas Hetty," Callen yelled up the stairs after them.

"You know, I like your thinking Hetty," Sam said with a mischievous grin. "I just might have to try that."

Callen eventually joined them in Ops. "What do we have Eric?" Callen asked briskly trying to reassert his authority.

"Joel Amello. Dead seaman. Shot at close range in his home last night," the tech said as he brought the pictures of the crime scene up on the plasma.

Nell chimed in adding, "No motive yet, but one interesting fact. His brother was…"

Callen took one look at the pictures on the screen, abruptly turned and fled the room, his face a mix of horror, anger and sorrow.

"…arrested for stealing classified Navy documents," Nell finished. "Sam, you and Callen arrested his brother. Do you think…"

"Callen knew the dead guy?" Sam completed as he watched his partner disappear. "I'd say so." He glanced down at Hetty who was staring intensely at him. "I suspect that cliff now has a name… Joel Amello."

Hetty's faced changed to one of puzzlement. "Care to elaborate, Mr. Hanna?"

"Later. I gotta go find G," he said departing Ops. The remaining five operatives were left to stare at each other, not quite able to piece together what had just transpired.

-NCIS-LA-

It didn't take Sam long to find his missing partner who was sitting on the beach, just above the high-tide mark, moodily staring at the waves. Sam eased himself onto the sand at his friend's side, saying nothing. Experience told him G would talk when he was ready. Their silence was punctuated by the crash of the waves and the call of the gulls.

"I didn't kill him," Callen finally said belligerently.

"No one is accusing you," Sam replied soothingly. "But you knew him. He did this to you," Sam guessed.

"I promised him he would be safe," Callen said, his voice breaking and unshed tears making his eyes bright.

"Suppose you tell me what really happened yesterday. No bullshit this time. And for the record, it has come back to bite me in the ass," Sam said, trying to lighten his partner's mood.

But Callen didn't smile. This whole situation somehow felt very wrong and very personal. Drawing a shaky breath, he tried desperately to get his wayward emotions under control. "Joel Amello took me prisoner before my run. Tasered and drugged me then took me back to his apartment, the one in the photos."

"Stripped you of your gun and phone, tossing them onto the floor of the car," Sam pieced together based on what he had observed earlier.

"Wouldn't know," Callen said bitterly. "Whatever he injected into me knocked me out cold, fast."

"Go on," Sam encouraged.

"I woke up in his apartment, hands tied behind my back and him holding a gun pointed at my head. He told me I killed his brother."

"And I'm guessing this is where you antagonized him, which he didn't take well and that led to the first crack across the face with the gun," Sam concluded.

Ignoring his partner, Callen continued. "He showed me a picture of his brother. Accused me of killing him again."

"You denied it, he got madder."

"He sprouted off exactly how I killed his brother…" Callen continued.

"At which point you gave him more attitude which led him to hit you, again. When will you learn the tough guy routine usually leads to you getting the crap beat out of you."

"Then I remembered the case."

"As you lay on the floor nauseous, bleeding and gasping for breath," Sam inserted.

Callen looked over at his partner. "He had it wrong Sam."

"What wrong and how did you escape?"

"Didn't. He let me go," answered Callen

Sam raised his eyebrows questioningly.

Callen let out a frustrated sigh. "He had it wrong Sam. The police only told him his brother stole something. He had no clue it was classified data. They also never informed him about the results of the autopsy. Joel didn't know his brother was strung out on drugs that day. Joel ran into the restaurant in time to see me shoot his brother. Blamed me. Wanted revenge."

"How did you convince him to let you go?"

Callen shrugged. "I talked to him honestly. He was scared, alone, confused. He'd lost the only family he had left when I shot his brother. He thought revenge was the answer. Let's say I could really relate to him."

Sam grunted.

"He was a good kid, Sam. Just confused. He didn't deserve to die," Callen vehemently spat.

"Any clue who killed him G?" Sam asked.

Callen closed his eyes, pain washing across his face. "I promised if he let me go nothing would happen to him," he replied softly, his voice breaking again. Callen took a shaky breath then his voice got more stable as he talked. "There was something Joel said when he had me. 'He said you'd be there,'" Callen slowly recalled. "I was too messed up, not thinking straight at the time, but I'm sure he meant someone told him we'd be at that store, the day we bought the sneakers. I never followed up on it and now he's dead."

"You didn't do this to him G. Some sick weirdo killed him. Stop beating yourself up."

"Oh come on Sam," Callen replied angrily, turning on his partner. "Somehow this is connected back to me. I know it."

"Alright. Calm down. Let's go check out the crime scene. See what we can find. Eric sent the address to our phones."

"Don't need the address," Callen bitterly laughed. "You forget. I've been there before.