To Hurt The One You Love
Chapter Four : Dark Future
Kensi's P.O.V
The future is something none of us really understand.
In the blink of an eye, your perfect, bright future can turn bleak. In the blink of an eye, you can lose everything, even everyone. In the blink of an eye, you can find yourself facing a dark future.
Third day undercover and they're already on a date.
A dinner date.
G's got a microphone discreetly clipped onto his jacket, which doubles as a camera, though that's not turned on. Eric has access to the CCTVs though, so that's fine.
We expect our guys to show up tonight, since this is the loosest setting Sarah's been in all week. The restaurant's security is lax, and she's dismissed her other bodyguards and the likes since she's on a date. With Callen. Who just happens to be my husband.
Did I mention that we're watching their date right now, live? And he's flirting with her?
Of course, that's only because she started flirting first. And he does have to make her believe him. The final goal is for her to trust him enough to let him into her main house, where he'll have full access to anything we might need.
But he doesn't need to flirt that much, I note scornfully. It's just their first date, for God's sake!
"They're on the move," Sam declares from his spot near the kitchen; he's undercover as a waiter. And I'm here, at OPS, because…well, Hetty thinks it's best for me to be here. Not to mention the fact that I came in a little pale today.
"Alright, accessing outdoor footage." Eric mutters as he taps away on his keyboard, working his magic. Nate is hovering over me, having a field day with my reactions. It's always been his favorite past-time: analyze the person while their spouse is undercover on a romantic engagement.
I swear, Nate has some major issues.
I clear my head as Hetty levels her gaze on me and force myself to focus. Sarah's driver is pulling up in her limo, and Callen is ushering her in. He shoots Sam one last glance, looks into the camera above him, somehow looking at me.
I can't help but notice that he looks awfully…guilty.
I brush these thoughts aside, unwilling to let myself appear as the over-bearing, possessive, jealous wife. Sam's microphone crackles to life as I watch the visual of them driving away.
"G's turned off his audio," He informs us, albeit unnecessarily as we've all noticed this by now.
"I believe we are aware of this, Mr. Hanna. Turn in your uniform and head back to OPS immediately." Hetty orders.
"The rest of you can have five minutes to yourself as Mr. Callen seems to be in need of some…personal time." Disgust drips from her voice. This brings back all my worries and doubts.
As Nate walks out, I re-arrange a few files I'd been using. I start to walk out, in need of a doughnut, but Hetty stops me.
"Kensi," I stop immediately – she's using my first name, and that can't be good. "A minute, please." I nod and trail after her as she directs us to her office.
I sit down when she motions for me to do so. I watch as Hetty pours us some tea; I'm about to object, but then I realize that my stomach isn't feeling well and so I gratefully accept the warm teacup.
"So, Hetty…" I start after a minute of silence.
"You're jealous." She states, maintaining eye contact with me. I sigh; not only is it useless to lie to Hetty, it's also sort of mean. Don't get me wrong – I understand that she's still like, this totally kick-ass ninja, but somehow, it's like lying to your grandma. Mean.
"A little." I admit, a frown tugging at my lips.
"Well, it is quite unsettling to see Mr. Callen in an environment like this…" She trails off; not even Hetty is willing to bring up the last time.
"After Rebecca Bryans." I finish for her, though I'm wincing on the inside. Hetty nods; she's about to speak when Nate appears.
"Eric says Callen is about to reach Sarah's place and he's accessed her property's cameras. Eric, not Callen. And Sarah's property." He feels the unnecessary need to clarify the obvious, but stops rambling when Hetty pins him with a glare.
Nate nods slowly, his eyes uncomfortable. "Right. We should probably get back?" He suggests. Hetty gets up and I imitate her, ready to leave this conversation behind us.
When we get back to 'Eric's lair' as I've heard him refer to it a couple of times, Sam and Eric are already reviewing the live footage. My heart clenches as I spot Callen with his arm around Sarah's waist.
It's going to be just like the last time.
This thought flashes through my mind so quickly I almost miss it. It's not a thought of my own, and it's not from the cynical voice which sometimes takes residence in my head, so that leaves me with no clue as to where this…negative thought comes from.
Callen's turned his microphone back on; they're talking now as he walks her to her front door.
"I had a great time," Sarah gushes like a school-girl and I fight hard to keep the disgust I'm feeling off my face as Nate turns to analyze me again. Instead, I shoot him a glare and focus on the screen. He shrugs and turns to the screen too.
"Me too," He smiles as they walk up the steps to her front door. Sarah fishes out her keys but makes no move to go in. "I should probably get back." Callen says, tilting his head in the general direction of the pool house.
"Probably. But what if I don't want you too?" Sarah flirts. I resist the urge to gag as my stomach acts up. Too late, I realize that I haven't had anything to eat today. I didn't even touch Hetty's tea.
"Then I won't." Callen says as he leans in to her, somehow managing to switch off his microphone as he does, judging by the lack of background sound.
My feet gear up to run. I know what's about to happen next, but somehow, I can't tear my eyes away from the screen. I can't give up until I see it for my own eyes. See him betray me.
This is totally in-line with my theory of me being masochistic, by the way.
Sarah leans against her front door, her back towards it. As Callen braces his hands against the door on either side of her and moves to close the distance between them, her eyes flutter shut.
The moment their lips connect, I turn away and lean my hands on the table, my back towards the screen. My heart is pounding in my ears, and yet I force myself to check, one last time, if this is really happening.
It is.
Somehow, he's gotten the keys from her and is opening the door, letting both of them tumble in without breaking apart from their lip-lock.
My heart pounds, my head hurts and I just can't take this anymore as my stomach fills with nausea. Wordlessly, I clap a hand over my mouth and head out, towards the bathroom. Midway, I start to run as the urge to gag becomes stronger.
I rush into the bathroom, head into a stall and lock it behind me before falling to my knees, facing the toilet bowl. I brace my hands against the cool surface of the rim as I start to heave up my stomach's contents.
Tearfully, I empty my stomach – and my heart – into the bowl.
"Kensi? You here?"
She hears the slam of the door behind him, the shuffle of his feet as he makes his way through the living room.
"I'm here." She croaks weakly, knowing all the while that he won't be able to hear her. So she flushes the toilet bowl in an effort to make enough noise for him to find her in the bathroom, slumped against the wall, pale and nauseated.
He walks into the bedroom, and noticing the open door, enters the bathroom to find her sprawled on the floor, limp. "Hey, what's wrong?" He asks worriedly, tenderly brushing a few stray strands of hair out of her face, tucking them behind her ear.
She's about to answer him, but then the nausea returns and she pushes him aside to retch into the toilet bowl, her bid to empty her stomach unsuccessful as there is nothing left for her to get rid of.
He pulls back her hair and rubs soothing circles on her back until she leans back against him, spent. "This happened." She whispers, her voice dry. Tear stains streak her pale face as sweat begins to break out on her forehead. He flushes the toilet once again, pulls the lid down and sets her against it.
She watches as he grabs a washcloth and runs it under some water, then wrings it out. He then approaches her with the damp cloth and slowly uses it to press against her forehead, her cheeks, running it down her face. The sensation of the cool cloth against her flushed skin feels better than her alternative of pressing her forehead against the cool marble tiles of the wall, and so she lets him fix her up in silence, gathering her thoughts and processing all that has happened.
"You didn't tell me you weren't feeling well." He chides, his voice a gentle murmur.
"Didn't think it was anything." She mumbles weakly. He moves away and throws the cloth into the small hamper they keep nearby as she slowly makes her way to the sink to rinse out her mouth, ridding herself of the nauseating taste of vomit.
"You never think it's anything. I'm making you see a doctor tomorrow." He informs her as she staggers out of the bathroom, barely making it to the bed before she has to sit down.
"I'm fine, G. I just need to rest, get lots of liquids and some food in my system." She states, unwilling to share her theory just yet. She's still waiting, and she wouldn't want to disappoint both of them if she's wrong. They're approaching their second anniversary now, and until yesterday, Kensi hadn't really thought about having kids.
Sure, she's love to have mini-Callens around, but their jobs are just too unstable, so they've never really made an effort to get pregnant. Callen had once said, 'If it happens, it happens', and so she'd taken that to heart.
"That's exactly what the doctor would have told you." He smiles, sitting down next to her on the bed. "I bought take-out." He offers as she leans into him.
"That sounds good," She says weakly, her voice slightly muffled. She sneaks a glance at the alarm clock next to the bed. It's been long enough. Time to check her future. "Hey, can you get me a glass of water first?" She asks, an excuse to get him out of the room while she checks on the 6 tests she has waiting for her in the bathroom.
He nods, slowly standing up, checking to make sure that she's sitting still. "Be right back," he assures her, dropping a light kiss on her forehead. She smiles as he walks out, but scurries into the bathroom as soon as she's sure he's away.
He walks into the kitchen, pushing aside the boxes of take-out as he pulls out a glass and fills it up, his thoughts revolving around Kensi. It's Friday, and so she has the weekend to rest, at least. This comforts him a little, but he knows he'll probably take her to the doctor's anyway tomorrow, if only to reassure himself.
He turns off the tap and makes his way back to the bedroom. He sets the glass on the nightstand when he realizes that she's not on the bed. He hears a feminine squeak and follows it to the bathroom, where he finds her once again sitting on the lid of the toilet bowl, her eyes shining with tears. He rushes to her.
"Kenz, are you okay?" He gently holds her arm. "Are you in pain? Come on, I'll bring you to the hospital right-"
He stops mid-speech as he notices her fiddling with a pen-like object. "I'm fine," She says slowly, speaking up when she notices his silence. She takes one last, long look at the thing before setting it down in her lap, looking up to face him. "I'm fine." She says again, clearly. She starts to smile as she looks him straight in the eye.
"It's just…how would you like to have a mini-Callen?"
It takes him a few moments to comprehend her words, but when he does, he smile brightens up his whole face.
Just like this pregnancy had brightened up their entire future.
Hetty doesn't even need to send me home; after washing up, I head straight to my desk for my keys and bag, and from there I just drive out, staying in my own little reality without bidding anyone goodnight.
In hindsight, that's probably really irresponsible of me – they might get worried. But my phone's not ringing, and so I take that to mean that they understand I simply need some time and space right now.
I pull out of the building and slow down, deliberately taking some time to assess my situation, and my emotions. Right now I'm still angry – the fact that I've probably lost Callen for good hasn't really sunk in yet. All I know is that I'm pissed. And disappointed.
I start driving just for the sake of feeling like I have a purpose while my mind runs through safe harbors for me. I think about driving to the beach, but I can't. There are so many memories there; it's just another thing he's taken away from me.
He's taken away my safe place, my trust, my happy life, my future- heck, I'm even going to blame him for our baby because God knows that if he had only been focused on me and not Rebecca Bryans, we might not be in this rut today.
At this, I take in a deep breath and slow down the car; I've been driving aimlessly for the last 20 minutes, I realize. I'm not being fair; the baby was an accident, and not his fault. My anger and disappointment is making me irrational.
I look around to find out where I am. It turns out I'm just minutes away from my old place, which I'd kept even after moving into the house. I hadn't had the heart to part with it, this little place where I'd lived for countless years as a single agent, then someone in love, and finally as a wife, and then as a future mother.
Callen used to joke that it was going to be my escape route after the baby; he and Sam said that when I started to threaten physical harm due to my lack of sleep, they'd pack me up and send me here, just to keep the baby safe.
As I park and make my way in, I realize that I don't feel the little pang in my heart that I usually associate with these thoughts of loss and betrayal.
Right now, even thoughts of the baby and Callen can't help me. I'm not angry, or sad, or disappointed. I'm just numb. I've accepted reality – I'm alone. I've lost my baby, and my husband. And so, I just want to go home; to go back to a time when I had been alone and yet content.
They say you can't miss what you don't have.
But I'm starting to find that you can miss what you no longer have.
Arthur Wing Pinero once said, I believe the future is only the past again, entered through another gate.
When I had finally allowed Callen to break down my walls and work through my issues, I had been hoping for a better future.
When I had finally married him, I had thought that I'd successfully left my past behind me; ditched those days of loneliness and self-doubt.
When I had found out about my pregnancy, I'd started seeing a new future; a bright future where I could have everything I'd ever needed.
Slowly though, I had been making my way back to my past, though I had somehow missed this.
Losing my baby had been the first step backwards; I'd lost any bright future I'd dreamed off.
Rebecca Bryans had pushed me back to my old self, the one who couldn't, for the life of her, trust someone else.
And now, I'd lost everything, only to find myself back at square one: I'm alone in this world, with no real family to speak of, no sense of trust, and no love.
My bright future has taken in its stride shades of navy, grey and black.
And now, all I'm left with is a dark future, one I cannot possibly hope to change, because my dark future is my past, and no matter what I do, it seems that I'm just going back to that.
This one's a little tricky, need you guys to let me know what you're thinking. Actually, the third chapter was kinda tricky too, but this one, by far, overshadows that one.
Next chapter we straighten things out. It's gonna be a long, long chapter full of thoughts and bla bla bla, but I really feel it's necessary for this story because after all that Kensi's gone through, past and present (you guys still don't know how this started), I feel it's time for her to really go through all this and re-evaluate her life and make some choices. In fact, I'll give you guys a little spoiler- the chapter title is Decisions, Decisions.
Really didn't know how to end this chapter, you know the usual contemplative bit I always end with? So I decided to work with the quote, which I'd heard a long time ago and which I really love. I also wanted to let you guys understand how Kensi feels like she's back to where she started out, with nothing and no one.
I'm rambling.
No shit, Sherlock.
Damn in, that little cynical voice in my head is talking again. Before I go completely nuts, time to end this note. Remember, review or PM me if you'd like to!
E Salvatore,
March 2011.