Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS: Los Angeles or the characters. I'm just borrowing them. I make no money from this.

Author Note: Just so you know I decided to explain how Callie knows Russian in this chapter by introducing a new minor character (that probably won't appear again after this). So there is a whole conversation taking place in Russian but I wasn't going to actually translate the whole thing into Russian, I'd probably get it completely wrong, not to mention you wouldn't be able to read it. So when the words are underlined like this, it means that the characters are speaking Russian.

Callen eyed the teenager worriedly as he drove. The closer they got to their destination, the quieter she became. Now she was sitting slumped in the passenger seat, staring out the window. But he was willing to bet it wasn't the scenery that she was seeing. He pulled the car to the side of the road as the GPS indicated that they had arrived. "Callie?"

She jumped, startled. Her eyes widened as she recognized where they were. "Oh, I didn't realize we were here already." She removed her seatbelt but made no move to exit the vehicle.

"Are you okay?" He sighed when she simply shrugged. "We don't have to do this right now. It can wait until another day if you're not ready."

Callie shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Let's just get this over with." She opened the door and got out.

Callen sighed again as he also exited the vehicle. He resolved to keep a close eye on her. If it looked like it was getting to be too much then they would leave, over her protestations if necessary. He watched as she stopped in front of the house and he turned to study it.

It was a two story building, though obviously a two family dwelling. The front yard was decent sized with a small garden leading around one side. It appeared nice enough, as did the neighborhood. He was glad Erin had been able to afford it, especially since she had been raising a daughter by herself. Guilt niggled at him over not having contributed financially at least to Callie's upbringing but he pushed it aside. He hadn't known or he would have made sure she was provided for.

Shaking the thoughts away, he gently touched Callie's shoulder. "Ready?" At her nod, he started to walk up the entryway to the steps.

"Not that way." Callen turned to look at her and she gestured to a small path leading to the side of the building. "Mom and I lived on the ground floor, it was easier for to get around that way, without having to worry about the stairs."

"Oh." As Callie finally shook her thoughts away, he joined her on the path, draping his arm over her shoulders. He received a small smile in response.

But as they reached the door, Callie froze in her tracks, staring at the crime scene tape that covered the doorway.

"Callie?"

She swallowed and closed her eyes. "I just need a minute," she said before taking a few steps away and around the corner. He followed her, watching as she leaned against the back of the house, arms wrapped around her torso.

"We don't have to do this," he reminded her.

"Yes, I do. I just didn't expect it to be this hard."

Callen stepped forward and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm here. You're not alone."

She gave him a weak smile as she returned his embrace. "I think that's the only reason I haven't already run away," she admitted. "Thank you, for being here."

"You're here, there's no where else I'd rather be."

Her arms tightened around him at his words and she drew a deep breath. "Okay, now I'm ready."

"If you're sure," Callen said, only to receive a determined nod. He gave her one last squeeze before stepping back. He turned to head back to the door only to have to duck as a broom was swung through the space his head was previously occupying. He quickly pushed Callie away as the broom swung back at him again.

As he ducked he automatically reached for his weapon, only stopping as the stream of words in broken English reached him.

"Thief! Murderer! You no come back finish job!" The heavy-set old lady yelled in a Russian accent as she attempted to brain over the head with the broom.

"Mrs. Guseva! Stop!" Callie pushed herself to her feet from where she had fallen.

The woman turned to look at her, dropping the broom as tears sprung to her eyes. "Oh, Callie! You okay! I so worried!" She said in broken English before launching a series of questions in Russian. "I heard about your mother's death, it was all over the news last night. I am so sorry for your loss. But I am glad you are alright. I feared you had been killed as well. But who is this, I thought it might be one of the men who took you returning to finish the job."

Callen opened his mouth to respond but Callie beat him to it. Responding in Russian she told the woman, "I'm okay. Thank you for the condolences. No, he isn't one of the men who abducted us. This is my father."

A warm feeling filled him as he heard Callie refer to him as her father to someone else.

The old woman turned to study him, obviously seeing the resemblance. "And where have you been all of this time? You think you can just come here now and take over this girl's life?" she asked him in Russian.

"I didn't know," he responded in kind, causing the woman to blink in surprise. "Erin never told me or I would have been there for both of them. But I'm here now." He reached over and wrapped his arm around Callie's shoulders.

Mrs. Guseva studied them carefully for a moment. "Good, you better take good care of her. But why are you here?"

"To pick up some clothes for Callie. And I thought she might like something of her mother's, to help her feel a connection."

"Oh yes, of course," Mrs. Guseva said sympathetically. "But the police, they said no one is to enter."

"That's ok, we've already been cleared," Callen assured her.

"Well then I had better let you get back to it, I'm sorry about the broom. Callie, again I am so sorry. Please, don't forget to visit." She turned back to Callen. "And you should come too, the stories I could tell you about this daredevil." She shook her head. "Such stubbornness and foolhardy bravery in such a small package." She picked up her broom and walked away, muttering about little girls with no fear.

Callen turned to look at Callie who was carefully studying her feet, a slight blush on her face. "Well that explains where you learned to speak Russian."

"Yeah, Mrs. Guseva is great, she used to babysit me sometimes."

"Might have to take her up on that offer to visit, I'm definitely intrigued by what stories she could tell me."

She blushed but lifted her head to look at him. "Oh, I'm sure she'd appreciate your visit. I caught her checking you out."

Callen coughed. "What?"

A small smile briefly came across her face and she nodded to an upstairs window. "See? Mrs. Guseva loves to ogle. You're lucky she didn't pinch your ass."

He glanced up in time to see the curtain shift back into place. He shuddered slightly. "Well as long as all she does is look it would be worth it." Callie glanced at him, confused. "I missed so much of your life, there's so much I don't know. Of course I want to hear those stories."

Callie shyly ducked her head again. When she raised it a small smile was tugging at her mouth. "Come on, we didn't come here just to stand outside all day." She grabbed his hand and pulled him toward the door but paused just outside it.

Callen took the key Granger had given him and unlocked the door. He ducked under the crime scene tape then held it out of the way for Callie to enter.

Callie froze as soon as she stepped inside. The place was a mess. The TV lay on the ground, smashed, as was the coffee table. The couch was overturned, the cushions all over the room. Images assaulted her mind, the men bursting in, her mother attempting to fight them off, men grabbing her. Then her mind flashed forward to her last image of her mother, lying on the ground dead.

She came back to awareness to find her breath coming in harsh pants as she was crushed against her father's chest, his voice soothing her as he reassured her.

"Shh, I'm here. It's okay, they're just memories, they can't hurt you anymore. I'm here, I won't let anything happen to you." Callen gently rubbed circles on her back as her breathing returned to normal. But he could feel the fast beat of her heart as she pressed against his chest. He sighed. "This was a mistake, it's too soon." He started to lift her into his arms.

"N-no," she shook her head. "We're here now, we might as well get what we came for. I don't know if I'll be able to go through this a s-second t-time." Her voice nearly broke.

"If you're sure," Callen studied her carefully, she was pale but determined. He lifted her into his arms anyway. "Which room?"

"Last door on the right." She gave him a weak grin. "It's a good thing I'm so small, with how much you've been carrying me the last couple of days."

He grinned back at her but didn't comment. Truthfully she could weigh twice as much or more and he would still carry her. It just felt so right, having her in his arms. Was this how Sam felt with his daughter?

He found the indicated door and entered it, pausing to take in his first view of his daughter's personal habitat. What insights could he gain into her from it? Callie squirmed and he put her down as he studied the room.

The carpet was a soft beige color, the walls, what little could be seen of them, were a pale green. But rather than the posters of different bands or actors he would expect to see in a teenage girl's room, the walls were covered with bookshelves. He glanced at some of the titles, it was an eclectic mix. Fantasy, science fiction, romance, adventure, books of all genres were present. He glanced at her briefly.

"So I like to read," she said a bit defensively as she noticed his look.

But Callen barely heard her as he continued his perusal. It wasn't only books that took up space on the shelves. There were small objects of obvious sentimental value, like the snowglobe or the porcelain unicorn figurine. There were also photos. He paused at one in particular, lifting it up.

A much younger Callie grinned broadly back at him, showcasing her missing front tooth as a smiling Erin held her in her arms. But it was the black eye that really got his notice. "What happened there?"

A small smile crept over her face as she looked at the photo. "That was taken after my first suspension from school."

Callen stared at her in surprise. "First suspension? For what? You couldn't have been more than 5?! And why would your mom be happy about that?"

"I was 6 and I broke Billy Williams' nose. He was 8, about a foot and a half bigger than me and was a bully. I got suspended because the school had a zero tolerance policy on fighting. Apparently I was supposed to let him hit me and steal my locket. I didn't agree, hence his broken nose."

Callen shook his head in amusement as he put down the photo. "You are definitely your mother's daughter," he said, remembering a few times the petite agent had stood her ground against men twice her size.

"Yeah, Mom acted all upset at the school, telling me that fighting is wrong. But once we had left she congratulated me for standing up for myself and bought me an ice cream cone." Callie smiled wistfully before tears filled her eyes. "I miss her. It's only been a day, why does it hurt so much?" She sunk down onto the bed.

Callen eyed the bed warily as it swayed slightly under her weight. One of the legs was bent, he now understood why Granger had said keeping it wasn't an option. Not trusting it to hold his weight, he knelt on the floor in front of her. "It's normal to miss her, it shows how much you love her."

She looked at him tearfully. "Does it ever stop hurting?"

He sighed, running a hand over his hair as he thought about how to answer. "It gets better, it doesn't hurt as much but no, the pain never fully goes away. You just have to try to remember the happy times, and eventually you'll be able to smile and laugh about them without bursting into tears."

"Doesn't feel like it," she muttered as she wiped at her face.

"Not right now, but eventually."

She sighed and started to push herself up from the bed when a loud groan filled the room and she found herself tilting forward into her father's arms.

"Guess it's a good thing I chose not to sit down," he muttered as he stared at the bed leg that had completely collapsed. "Really going to have to go shopping now."

"Oops," she said, wide-eyed.

He smirked at her. "I guess the bed didn't find you as light to hold as I do."

"Hey!"

"So you want to start grabbing some clothes? Is there a bag somewhere to put them in?"

"There's a suitcase in the bottom of the closet," she said as she sighed and started pulling clothes out of the dresser drawers.

Callen quickly found the suitcase and placed it on the desk, helping her pack the clothes. "Anything else you need or want to take with you?"

Callie thought for a moment before crossing the hall to the bathroom. She returned with her things like a toothbrush, deodorant and other personal care items which she also packed. Glancing around the room again, she retrieved her bookbag from next to the desk and emptied it out. She then proceeded to pack several books and a tablet computer into it. Then she started looking at the knickknacks on the bookshelves.

Callen simply watched her. He could see the memories swarming in her mind as she fingered several objects, placing a couple in the bag while leaving others where they sat. He watched as she picked up another photo of her and Erin, hugging it to her chest before placing it in the bag. "Is there anything I can help with?" he asked, feeling like he should be doing something but not knowing what.

She bit her lip and glanced back down the hallway. "Mom kept photo albums. It was like she wanted to document every second of my life sometimes. They're in the bottom of the TV stand."

He understood. She couldn't face that room again. "I'll get them." He reached over and squeezed her shoulder before leaving the room.

Callie took a deep breath once she was alone. Then she turned to the closet. Kneeling down, she reached all the way into the back, shifting a loose board aside and pulled out a shoebox. It was covered in dust that she carefully brushed off. She started to lift the lid and hesitated, looking back at the doorway. Shaking her head, she placed the small box into her bookbag.

She took one last look around the room, knowing she was unlikely to return. She wasn't sure what would happen to what was left behind, and at the moment she found she just couldn't care. She started to zip her bag closed when her eyes landed on something peeking out from under the partially collapsed bed. She bent down and retrieved it, her eyes softening slightly as she held the well-worn teddy bear. She shook her head and tossed it onto the bed. She was too old for stuffed animals.

But a moment later she found herself picking it up again, hugging it. This bear had been with her most of her life, through good times and bad. Perhaps it would be able to help her get through this. She gently, almost reverently placed the bear into her bag and zipped it closed.

Callen chose that moment to return, carrying the photo albums and a couple of other items. "It looks like pictures weren't the only thing Erin kept." He held up a box labeled home videos. "I hope you don't mind, I thought maybe someday we could watch these together."

"No that's okay," Callie responded, though her attention was on the other item he held.

Callen smiled as he fingered the old, heavy quilt. "I remember this thing. Erin said it had been in her family for generations. That she could wrap it around her and feel the love of her family. She would bring this thing with her to every place she stayed." He didn't mention that Callie was probably conceived under it.

Callie nodded. "Whenever I had a bad day or if I woke up from a nightmare she would wrap that around us and we'd just sit there, sometimes talking, sometimes just sitting in silence. But it always made me feel better." She gently took the folded quilt from him, hugging it to her chest as she burst into tears.

Callen gathered her to his chest and held her, whispering soothingly to her. He thought he was getting the hang of calming her down, though he wished that he didn't have to because it was a testament to how much pain she was in. "Is there anything else you want?"

She shook her head. "No, I just want to get out of here."

Callen nodded. If there was anything else she needed he would either buy it for her himself or he would come and get it. He wasn't going to make her suffer any longer than necessary. He quickly packed the photos and videos into the suitcase. He hesitated then grabbed the photo of Callie and Erin that had caught his attention earlier and packed it as well. He then slung her bookbag over his shoulder while grabbing the suitcase. His other arm wrapped around Callie and pulled her into his side, supporting her as he led her out of the home she had shared with her mother.

Once outside he locked up and brought the emotionally drained girl to the car. He ignored Mrs. Guseva watching him from her window as he got Callie settled in the car and placed her bags in the trunk. As he climbed in to the driver's seat he found that Callie had already fallen asleep, exhausted from the emotional tolls of the day. He reached out and softly stroked her cheek before starting the car, on his way to bring his daughter home for the first time.