To Hurt The One You Love
Chapter Five : Decisions, Decisions
Kensi's P.O.V
Life is made up of the little things, the little decisions you make as you go.
For instance, you could choose between a breakfast of bacon and scrambled eggs or fruits. Stick to this little decision every day and you'll realize that this small choice might just cut years off your life, if you stick to the bacon and scrambled eggs, and not the fruits.
You might not realize it now, but all those choices, all those small decisions?
Someday, they'll lead you to big decisions that might just save you…or destroy you.
I wake up to the crying wind and rumbling thunder, sheets of rain pelting the windows.
Getting up, I pad, barefoot, to the bathroom to wash up. As I spot my reflection in the mirror, it all comes back to me as I take in the sight of my tear-stained cheeks and puffy red eyes.
I'd cried myself to sleep last night…because of what I had seen Callen doing. Because somehow, my future had turned out to be a more painful version of my past. Shaking these thoughts away from my head, determined to at least start the day without any more pain, I finish cleaning myself up and walk towards the bed, checking the nightstand for my phone and the alarm clock.
It's then that I realize it's only 4 in the morning. I'd barely slept for more than 3 hours, but that had been more than enough for me to enter REM and live through my nightmares. I check my phone for texts and missed calls- there's a text from Sam. He wrote:
Kensi, I know this was a lot for you to take in, but it's not the truth. You'll probably want the day off, but I'll swing by during lunch to tell you what's really going on. Hang in there, Kenz. –Sam.
His words confuse me. Actually, everything's confusing me right now, but that's probably because I'm sleep-deprived.
I risk a glance outside; the storm rages on. There's no way I'm going to risk driving in this weather; I may be heartbroken, but I'm not suicidal. He's just another guy, I keep telling myself.
Just another guy you'd married and almost started a family with.
Once again, my mind speaks up. Not that I care; I've gotten really good at ignoring myself over the years. I make my way to the kitchen; it's not like I'm going to fall asleep again. Flicking on light switches as I go, I find myself relieved that the power is still on.
Funny that I should be thinking about these small things when my entire life is falling apart around me; Nate would definitely have something to say about this. As if I even care anymore.
I pull open cupboards, trying to recall whether I'd left any food here. I'm pretty sure there should be a bag of chips somewhere…
"Aha!" I cry out triumphantly as the last cupboard reveals a large bag of Doritos. I rip it open while pulling out a chair to sit in. My brain might be functioning quite well, but my body's exhausted. It's telling me, Stop it, just sit down for a while and stop all this strong lady crap. Just sit down and stop thinking for a minute or ten, until I can catch up to you.
You're way too slow, my brain retorts coldly. I'm already past the crash-and-burn stage. Time to do some serious thinking and make some choices.
"Shut up!" I cry exasperatedly to both of them, stuffing myself with the chips. The twin voices inside me quiet down as I pad to the living room and sink into the couch.
In the dead silence, I admit to myself that my brain does have a point: now isn't the time to rest. Now, I have to think; think and process all that has happened. Not just yesterday's events, but really think of the baby, the case…my marriage.
Do I still want this?
Of course, I'll always love him. There's no way I'd be able to move on, to just forget my feelings for him. What we share runs much deeper than that; no one would be able to move on from what we have.
But now I wonder, would it be safer for me to just love him from afar? Would it be safer for me to just leave, to let him do what he needs to? Would it be safer for me to just give up, to live out the rest of my future in the past, alone and content in knowing that I had once had the great romance everyone dreams of?
Unfortunately, I don't seem to have a choice.
Because, you see, love is about more than just one person. Love means that you don't do what's safer for you- instead, you look out for the other person, you guard them with your life. So it's never really been about what's safer for me- all I want is for him to be content.
It takes me hours to reach this decision; I've been fighting with myself over and over as self-preservation keeps me from putting my heart on the line. I've lived most of my life looking out for no one but myself. Then I joined this team and started taking care of the others, and that in itself was hard. But now, to protect someone else – someone I love - at the risk of hurting myself…it goes against any and all of my instincts to keep myself safe.
When I finally emerge from my thoughts, the rain's stopped; the sun's up. It's as if my mind has some sort of pull over the weather…but then again, that's ridiculous.
I clean up after myself; make it seem as if I had never been here at all. I close the door behind me; leaving behind all of those conflicting emotions and thoughts. Then, walking to my car, I check to make sure it's a decent hour and call Sam.
"Hey Sam? Yeah, good morning to you too. You know what, why don't we meet up for lunch and you can tell me everything…"
"Hey Kensi, you won't believe this!"
This is how Sam greets her one morning as she walks in, her face pale as she's still going through morning sickness. "What?" She snaps hoarsely, though not on purpose- her throat's just killing her right now. Try spending the better half of your night regurgitating every single solid food you haven't digested- being pregnant is no joke.
Her dry voice doesn't dampen Sam's mood; his grin grows wider. "Eric has a sore throat."
"So? I do, too." She grumbles, setting her bag down on her cluttered table which she eyes with distaste. She really does have to start getting ahead on all of her paperwork…though there'll be enough of that when she's on desk duty. This thought causes her to shudder as Sam leans against her desk; she sits down weakly, her limbs sore from hours of crouching in front of the toilet bowl.
"You poor thing!" Sam exclaims in a high voice, doing his best 'mother' impersonation. "But don't you see, Kenz?" His voice goes back to normal again as he slowly explains the implications of Eric's sore throat.
"No more whistling!"
"I guess that's a good thing," Kensi concedes after a moment's thought. "But it's really no fun, having your throat kill you." She informs Sam as he looks around for someone.
"Where's G?" He asks her, walking back to his desk.
"He told me he's coming in early," Kensi says, taken aback. "He wanted to go through the Bryans case one more time before he goes undercover."
"Well, where is he?" Sam looks around as if expecting said agent to materialize out of thin air any moment.
Kensi shrugs. "Maybe he's with Hetty."
Just then, the elderly woman appears, having missed nothing, as usual. "I can assure you, Miss Blye, that I haven't seen Mr. Callen yet today." She pauses for a moment, contemplating a few thoughts. Sam and Kensi stare at her blankly, waiting for her to add something to their conversation.
"Do I pay you two to stare at me?" Hetty demands. "Chop chop, Eric's waiting for you with a new case. I offered to come down as he is, most unfortunately, suffering from a sore throat." Hetty's tone suggests that she finds this most fortunate, and not the other way around.
Sam and Kensi share a look before rushing upstairs, though Kensi takes extra caution when climbing up the stairs, having heard stories of pregnant women tripping over the stairs all too often.
Sadly, what Kensi doesn't know is that accidents only happen when you least expect them.
I unlock the front door and slowly walk in. There's always a chance that he'd feel guilty and cut short the operation to come home and apologize.
He hasn't.
I'm not sure whether I'm relieved, or disappointed, but I'm past the point of caring. Shutting the door behind me, I wander aimlessly around the house, taking in every picture, every memory. Pictures aren't the only things you can link memories to; I look at the TV and I remember movie nights and bad sitcoms I'd watch alone when he was undercover. I look at the orchids placed around the room and I remember our anniversary, the first time we'd celebrated in this house. I remember the look on his face as I walked in only to find orchids everywhere, their sweet scent permeating the air.
"You're not really a roses kind of girl, and it would have been weird to carry a pot of orchids to the office to surprise you."
Trying to get rid of these thoughts, I pick up the phone and call for take-out, being very careful with my order. I haven't been feeling so well lately. My stomach's constantly acting up, though this might be because of what's been happening recently. Nevertheless, I'd made a stop at the pharmacy during the drive home. Hopefully, this will help. I pick up the small plastic bag and leave the room.
I walk upstairs, where even more memories invade my mind, and I realize just how hard this decision will be; the one I haven't made. I check the time; I've got just enough time to shower, change and pull myself together before Sam comes to talk.
Whatever that means.
I must admit, I'm curious. He'd told me that we couldn't talk about this over the phone, or in public, and based on what he's said, it has something to do with Callen and his recent…actions. I don't know if he put Sam up to this; really, it would be pointless. Why would you cheat right in front of your wife, then send your best friend to comfort her and talk her into forgiving you? It just doesn't sound like him.
Temporarily ignoring these thoughts, I find myself wandering into the bathroom again; thank God I'm not about to subject myself to two hours of painful thoughts, or in other words, a bath. This time, I strip down and hop into the shower, not just because I'm short of time, but because I'm determined to keep my mind from wandering until I hear what Sam has to say.
After all, I wouldn't want my subconscious to make any decisions.
"Kensi, I really think you should-"
"No way, Sam." Kensi cuts off Sam's worried comment with an eye-roll. "I'm pregnant, not incapacitated."
"Though I would be if anything happens to you." Sam mutters as they make their way out of the car, heading into the back alley their suspect often visits. "This is all Callen's fault anyway. I wouldn't have to bring you into the field if he were here."
"Yeah, well," Kensi starts, uncomfortable. "Apparently the Bryans case is really interesting." She doesn't voice what's really on her mind- apparently Rebecca Bryans is really interesting. After all, this is Callen's first long-term undercover op with a romantic interest since their wedding, and why else would he be so absorbed in this case if not for the fact that he is going to be actively pursuing Rebecca Bryans this time next week?
"Don't worry, Kenz." Sam comforts her, noticing her deep in thought. "I'll kick his ass if he does anything to you." Kensi lets out a snort of disbelief at Sam's words.
"No, really." Sam stresses. "He might be my partner, but you're like my little sister, Kensi."
Sam's soft tone causes Kensi's eyes to grow soft. "Thanks, Sam." She says earnestly, placing a hand on his arm. "But if he does anything, I'll be the first to kick his ass." She grins.
Sam smiles. "That's my girl. Now come on, we don't want to lose this guy."
"Hetty would kill us." Kensi agrees as they cautiously walk through the dark alley, leaving behind any sense of security or light-heartedness they'd previously possessed.
It all happens so quickly after that.
As Kensi lets down her guard and turns around to tell Sam that they're clear – the alley's obviously empty – someone jumps out from behind and wraps one arm around her neck, keeping her in a chokehold. All this commotion causes Sam to turn around and take in all that's happened, and Kensi's about to fight her way out of this, but the man – who's definitely not their suspect – holds up the silver barrel of a gun, pressing it against her side. Suddenly, Kensi realizes that something isn't right. It must be the stress…or maybe it's just her hunger. But her stomach starts to cramp and Kensi is just so sure that something's wrong. And this distracts her from the current situation, something that's never happened to her before.
The baby, Kensi thinks frantically, her eyes showing panic as Sam nods; he knows exactly what she's thinking of. Sam puts down his gun – there's no way he can get a clear shot anyway; the guy's approximately Kensi's height – and holds up his hands in surrender.
"Please, just let her go. She's-"
"-Pregnant. I know." The man nods, his voice cold and detached. "Tell him he's been warned." And then, with no warning at all; not even a second's pause as Sam tries to figure out who he's talking about, the man pulls the trigger.
G, Kensi finds herself thinking as the world goes dark around her – her stress, combined with her blood loss, finally gets the best of her as Sam puts three rounds into the man's escaping form.
Where are you?
"Hey Sam," He walks through the door I'm holding open for him. "Just on time. Food's still warm." I tell him, leading him to the kitchen. I'm subconsciously stalling for time – what Sam tells me will seal my decision; will change my future. Somehow, I'd like to get through lunch before this life-changing conversation I know we're about to have.
Somehow, Sam shares this sentiment.
"Let's eat; I'm starving," He quips.
"Hetty's making you work the whole case?" I guess as I set down the cartons with a flourish. "Ta-da, lunch." I say flatly, though I've tried to inject some enthusiasm into my voice.
"Thanks," Sam says as he accepts the cutlery I hand him. "Yeah," He says in response to my earlier question. "Didn't even get home last night." He digs in while I survey his appearance. He'd probably showered and changed at OPS before heading here.
I nod and start picking at my food – between all that's been going on, I haven't really built up an appetite; I'm just glad the food isn't making me nauseous. We eat in silence for the next few minutes; neither of us know what to say. I'm lost in thought and Sam's probably sleepy or afraid he might hurt my feelings.
Maybe it's a combination of both.
Either way, the food's finished within minutes. As I get up to throw away the cartons, Sam helpfully clears away the cutlery and refills our glasses with a pitcher of cold water I've set out.
As we both sit down, I sip on my glass as he sighs, gathering his thoughts. When I put my glass down, he looks up and starts talking.
"Kensi, what Callen did last night…it was stupid." I feel the polite smile drop off my face; he is here on Callen's behalf, after all. I'm about to say something; tell him that it's useless for him to explain some half-assed, fabricated story when he holds up a hand.
"You don't understand," He tells me. "Callen thinks he's protecting you, in his own twisted way. Hetty told us the truth after he'd left Sarah. The minute you walked out, Hetty said, "It's done, Mr. Callen. You can come back now." It turns out Hetty still had audio contact with him, and she'd heard everything we hadn't."
"Callen got off Sarah immediately and told her that it's over, then hugged her and said thank you. Turns out there wasn't a case after all; Sarah had been in on this since the beginning. By this point, I'm pissed and I'm shouting at Hetty to tell me the truth. She leads me to her office, because Nate and Eric are still there." Here, Sam takes a deep breath as I sit up straighter. This sounds more like something Callen would do.
"So there's no case? Sarah knew all along, and was just acting?" I ask quickly before Sam has a chance to go on. I just need this to be clear. Sam nods.
"Yeah. So Hetty pours me tea which I don't touch anyway, 'cause I'm listening to her. God, Kensi, this is all so messed up." He sighs, bracing his hands against his forehead for a second before letting them drop back to their previous position on the table.
"Kensi," He says slowly. "Callen staged all this. He thinks he's protecting you."
"From what?" I demand, hovering between relief and anger. Relief that Callen hasn't been hurting me on purpose, after all. Pissed because after all these years, he still thinks I need protecting.
"This time, you do." Sam says, seemingly able to read my thoughts. "It's big, Kenz."
"How big?" I ask, unfazed.
"Russian mob big." Sam says, dead serious, maintaining eye contact with me. I don't flinch, I don't move at all.
"Tell me."
"I'm not sure." He says, looking away, suddenly normal again. "Hetty wouldn't share the details; says it's for Callen to tell. She just doesn't agree with what he's doing, and she says that over her dead body will Callen somehow convince you that he's not crazy in love with you anymore." Sam shrugs.
"All I know is that Hetty doesn't want you to leave him over some lie. So she told me that everything – the Rebecca Bryans case, the sudden awkwardness, this whole Sarah Michele thing – it's all an act, Kensi. Callen wants you to leave him so that the Russians won't go after you."
"He loves you, Kensi." Sam says softly; it's something I never pictured he would do – this kind act of trying to help our marriage.
I nod softly, holding back tears. "I know, Sam."
He gets up. "I know it's a lot," He says kindly as I stand up. "Do what you think is right, Kenz." He advises me as he wraps his arms around me, a comforting hug.
He steps out of the hug as I nod. "I will," I promise him.
He smiles. "I know you will. Don't worry, I'll let myself out. Take care of yourself, Kenz. And call me if there's anything, 'kay?"
"I will, Mom." I tease, somehow plastering a weak smile on my face. He shots me one last reassuring smile as he walks out, and moments later I hear the front door click softly behind him.
I grip my glass and walk into the living room, gulping down more water as I try to process all the information I've just received.
I check one more time to make sure I have my facts straight. The Russian mob is after my husband. And so, in some twisted, weird way I've learned to accept he usually thinks with, he tries to fake an affair, twice, to truly break my heart and drive me away, in some crazy attempt to keep me safe. And losing our baby in the midst of all this had somehow helped him drive me away.
Oh God. I clap my hand over my mouth, releasing a faint gasp as I finally understand my attacker's words all those months ago. Our baby…that incident had been a warning for Callen. And he must have figured out a plan when I'd blamed the accident over his absence, wrongly assuming that he'd been working the Bryans case.
Well, at least things are starting to make sense now. This whole fiasco is just Callen being Callen, though on a much larger scale than before.
As the sun sets and it starts to rain again, I sit, unmoving, on the couch, staring at our wedding picture which is directly in front of me, deep in thought.
Finally, I'm jolted out of my reverie as my phone rings. I pick up on the fourth ring, having needed some time to wake myself.
"Sam?" I've checked caller ID.
"Hey Kenz, you okay?" He asks softly, probably worried.
"Yeah, just a lot on my mind."
He chuckles. "Understatement of the year." He declares.
"Yeah…"I say slowly after some thought. "Hey Sam?"
"Yeah?"
"When's he coming back?" Silence as Sam contemplates my words. He knows that I'll confront Callen immediately, regardless of my decision.
"Tomorrow." He says finally.
"Thanks, Sam." I smile.
"No problem, Kenz. Take care of yourself, 'kay? Don't go scratching up random cars tonight; I'll be too busy sleeping to bail you out."
I roll my eyes; not that he can see this. "As if I'd get caught." I joke. "Don't worry, Sam. I'm just gonna have a quiet night. They're showing Gossip Girl…or is it Gilmore Girls?" My confusion amuses Sam; he chuckles again.
"Night, Kensi."
"Good night, Sam…and thanks, for today." I add on the last part after some thought.
"You're welcome. You'll make the right decision, Kensi." He reassures me.
"Yeah, hopefully. Bye."
"Bye." The phone clicks as he hangs up, and after a second, I replace my cell on the coffee table. Looking around, I realize it's dark. I get up and start switching on lights; as I reach my bedroom, I stumble across the contents of the plastic bag I'd brought home from the pharmacy earlier today.
And smile.
I'm definitely making the right decision.
Life is made up of the little things.
Or so they say.
But when you really think about it, the little things are part of bigger things, and so life is actually made up of the bigger things. Or something along those lines.
Really, if you're going to choose what to have for breakfast, you must first decide to actually have breakfast. If you're going to choose between jobs, you must first decide to actually work.
So you see, to have choices, we must first make decisions.
To have the choice of a happy life, I must first decide how I'm going to deal with the situation at hand.
Decisions, decisions.
And here's the most worrying chapter of all.
I just don't know what to make of this chapter – it's one of those chapters where it's either a big hit or a big flop. Kinda like movies. And the fact that's there's not one, but two flashbacks this chapter…I just didn't know how to twine them together without having this chapter turn out the length of a short story. As it is, this chapter's hit the big 4K.
So, leave a review and let me know : Big Hit or Big Flop? (hint : yes, I'm looking for reviews :p)
I know I don't say this often enough, but thank you all for your reviews. I really do appreciate each and every one of them. I know a lot of authors are always, more reviews! More reviews or I won't update!
Well, I, for one, have out-grown that. I'd rather have 5 loyal reviewers with real opinions than 15 random reviewers who have nothing to say. On that note, more review wouldn't actually hurt anyone, would they?
Kidding!
As usual, review or PM me if you'd like to!
E Salvatore,
March 2011.
UPDATE : HOURS AFTER POSTING THIS, I LEARNED THAT MY GRAND-AUNT, WHOM I WAS REALLY CLOSE TO, HAD PASSED WHILE I HAD BEEN WRITING THIS. LOST WITH NOTHING TO DO WHILE MY FAMILY MOURNED ALL OF THIS, I DECIDED TO RE-READ THIS AND RE-EDIT, WHICH LED TO CERTAIN CHANGES, ALBEIT SMALL. SO...IF YOU'RE RE-READING THIS AND NOTICE SOME SMALL CHANGES...YEAH.