Chapter 24.
Author's Note. I just got a new Word Processing System, so if the format's different that's why. Also, I'm looking for a beta reader, so contact me if you're interested. Finally, Enjoy!
Nate.
She's just standing there. Her eyes glazed over. Her jaw clenched. Her gun still raised. But yet, AJ Connors has never looked as beautiful and more determined that she did in that moment.
Her gun is still raised at the same spot when Kensi goes over to check Michael Sanders' pulse. Kensi looks up at Callen, and shakes her head.
"AJ," Callen says, gently putting his hand on her gun and lowering it, "he's gone."
She holsters her weapon, but her body is still rigid, and when the light hits her face from a window, a glint of a tear can be seen from her eye.
"Let's go." I tell her, putting my arm around her shoulder to turn her away from the image of the man she once loved, lying dead on the cold concrete.
She spins slowly on her heels and, almost reluctantly, walks quietly out of the warehouse with me.
I pull up to her house three hours later, and we both sit in silence. The only sound surrounding us is the gentle hiss of the air conditioning vent. Night has fallen in the time it took us to drive from Ops to AJ's house. We're both staring out the windscreen, and neither of us dares to say a word.
I am so lost in thought that I jump when I hear the gentle clicking of the seatbelt buckle from beside me.
"Thanks...for, uh, giving me a ride home." She says, sniffling.
"No problem." I pause. "Do you, uh, need anything else?"
"Sleep." She says, managing a smile. "Goodnight, Nate."
"Night, AJ."
She elegantly steps out of the car, and I wait until she is inside her door before I slowly pull my car from her driveway.
I quietly contemplate going to the beach, after all, AJ does live in Venice, and I'm driving along the sea.
I park my car, and step out. It's dark, but there are still some people on the beach.
A happy couple, sitting near the rocks, about 50 yards from me. A group of teenagers, playing soft music. Two friends by the edge of the water, picking up their belongings. And a lone federal agent, sitting on the sand. I try my hardest not to think about AJ, what she must be going through. God knows I've seen that too many times. I have to give her her space, at least for a few days, until I can't take not seeing her any more.
AJ.
Free. I am free. Then why do I feel like I'm trapped in a cage? It's been 3 days. 3 days since I last showered. 3 days since I left my house. 3 days since I saw him. 3 days since I killed him.
I walk over to the fridge. No beer. Dammit.
I open the freezer. No ice-cream. Damn.
You knew you would have to leave the house at some stage, right?
Shower first, then food.
As I undress, the warm, humid air from the open window hitting my bare skin, I think of him. How many times he must have seen me like this. How many times he ran his hand over my skin, how many times he must have kissed my neck, and every other inch of my body.
As I step into the shower, letting the cool water run over my skin, I feel like I'm washing away every trace of him, every moment we spent together, every laugh, every touch, hug, cuddle, kiss. My hands run through my hair, spreading the lemon-scented shampoo throughout my knotty, greasy hair. I wash away every trace of him, gladly, because now he's dead, and I don't have to worry about him killing my family any more.
Danny and Adam flew back to D.C yesterday, on my orders, of course. Mara left for Seattle this morning, and took my mother, reluctantly, with her. Lucy had vacation days accumulated and would sooner jump off a plane than leave me. Both her and Ry have been over everyday since he died, against my wishes, but I can't say no to my baby brother. It's got nothing to do with Lucy.
I've thrown on my U.C hoodie, and yoga pants, and put on my red Converse. My hair is still wet, my face, makeup-less.
I grab my keys, my wallet and my phone and swing open the door to find Nate, with his fist poised to knock.
"Hey." I greet.
"Hey." He answers back.
"What are you doing here? Wait, stupid question. Hetty sent you, didn't she?" I assume.
"Actually, no, she didn't. I came to see if-"
I cut him off. "If I'm okay? I'm fine, Nate."
"If you wanted to get some coffee. But I see you're just heading out. I'll call back later." He turns to walk away.
"No! Nate, wait." I stop him. "That sounds nice. I was going to get more ice-cream and beer, but coffee actually does sound better."
"It's settled then. Let's go."
We sit down at my favourite coffee shop, with ice-cold frappuccino's in our hands. Nate's eerily quiet. It's like he's not sure what to say.
"So, how's everything at Ops?" I ask, attempting to break the awkward silence.
"I wouldn't know. Hetty gave us all the week off. Haven't seen the rest of the team since..." He trails off, knowing that if he talked about what happened in that warehouse, it might set me off.
"Since I killed Michael. You can say it Nate. I'm fine." I assure him, and I'm pretty sure that I'm being truthful.
I sip my coffee. "Truth be told, I'm glad he's dead. And I'm glad I'm the one who put him in the ground. He ruled my life for way too long, and now it's time for me to get on with my life."
He nods silently.
"How's your family? How'd they take the news?" He asks.
"They took it really well, actually." I pause to laugh. "As soon as I told Lucy, she leapt out of her chair and hugged me. Ry couldn't stop smiling. Danny and Adam were happy. Mara and my mom were still smiling when they left."
He smiles. "So, Mara and your mom, they're gone back to Seattle?"
"Yeah," I say, nodding my head, "against my mothers' wishes, but Mara needed to get back to the hospital and I told my mom to go with her. Danny and Adam went back to D.C this morning."
"So it's just you, Ryan and Lucy." He states.
"Yeah. Lucy wouldn't leave until I pushed her on a plane. And even then, she would sooner jump off it than leave me."
"She sounds like a great sister."
"She is. We were born two years apart, so we were always together. Best friends."
"What about Mara?" He asks.
"Mara's 8 years younger than me. We couldn't get along, even if we wanted to." I pause. "That's why she's a doctor. Well, partially. Mara didn't get along with any of us. She threw herself into her school work. Graduated Valedictorian of her Senior class. Pretty, smart and popular. Mara was the whole package. She has an above-average IQ, but she learned how to handle it well."
"What about the rest of your siblings?"
"Lucy was your crazy wild child. Went to parties every weekend, stayed up all night. She nearly gave my dad a heart attack when she came home from a party with her then-boyfriend in tow. Thought the whole house was asleep. She got grounded for two months after that." I smile, remembering Lucy's constant complaints about being confined in our house for two months. "Danny was your typical jock. Star of our high-school football team. Brought home the state championship for us his senior year. He made my dad so proud when he graduated with a Masters in weapon engineering." Danny is one of the best men I've ever known. I remember that every time he goes to see my mother, she asks why he hasn't got a woman in tow. "Adam was the mischief maker. He once was grounded for three months when he cut off Mara's hair while she was sleeping. And Ry, Ryan was the baby. He could do no wrong. One of us always got blamed for drawing on the walls, or painting our cat blue. But I was always protective of him. I was twelve when he was born, and when I was able to drive I had to shuttle him to all his soccer games and friend's houses. He was the first person I saw when I woke up in hospital after being shot."
As I finish describing my siblings crazy antics, my phone rings. A picture of Ryan pops up on screen, and I say, "Speak of the Devil." I decline the call.
"Aren't you going to get that?" Nate asks.
"Nah, Ryan can wait." I pause. "What about you Nate? You must have been lucky growing up without brothers or sisters."
"I didn't grow up alone. My, uh..."He trails off. "My aunt and uncle died in a car accident when I was five. My cousin, Samantha, moved in with us after my parents agreed to take her in." He pauses. "Sam's the same age as me. We grew up together, same friends, same hangouts. We're best friends."
"How come I've never heard you talk about her?" I ask, intrigued by the fact that Nate has a 'little sister'.
"I don't want to talk about her at work. It saves me from imagining her in the same position as some of those people." He replies.
"She sounds great. Where does she live?"
"San Diego. She's a writer." He laughs. "You couldn't keep her off her computer when she was a teenager. Always writing some different story, keeping them all saved. Her dream was to get published. And it's finally coming true. Sam's getting her first crime novel published within the year."
"She's a crime novelist? Solving crimes must run in the family."
"Yeah, I suppose it does."
"Listen," I begin, checking my watch, "I better go, I've got a few errands to run. Thanks for the coffee."
"It's no problem. See you soon."
"You will." I pick up my bag. "Bye Nate."
I start walking towards my house, I feel grateful. Grateful for my family. My team. Nate. Grateful that Michael's finally gone.
My phone rings.
"Hey, Luce." I say, holding the phone to my ear.
"I've got news. Where are you? You're not at home, I'm starting to worry." She replies.
"I was out with Nate. We got coffee. I just have a few errands to run before I can see you."
"Oh, Nate...Is that the incredibly handsome blue-eyed man you've clearly been swooning over the past few days?"
"No, because I'm pretty sure Nate has brown eyes."
"Oh, Nate's your incredibly tall partner then?"
"That's him."
"He's cute. And smart." Her comment surprises me slightly. Did she just hit on my partner? I'm sure she did. Then again, it is Lucy. "Listen," she continues, "I'll be at your place in five. Don't go anywhere."
"Wait Luc-" Too late. Dial tone.
My mind recalls the conversation. Handsome blue-eyed man? Who would she be talking about?
I'm fooling myself. I know who she's talking about. And she just may be right.
Thanks for reading! Please R&R!