A/N: For some strange reason, FanFiction doesn't seem to be communicating with my email. So I don't know if anyone favorited or put this story on alerts since the last time I was here. Sorry about that, but I thank anyone who did anyway. I also thank my reviewersDS2010, lizard1969, Sazzita, SunnyCitrus10, justjunior, and TwilightPony21.

Today's chapter is almost double the length of yesterday's. I wasn't initially planning on writing this chapter - this story was supposed to be only six chapters, not seven - but I was inspired, and I figured you would all like to see more interaction between the team.

Chapter Five: Heart to Heart

The next week passes too slowly for us; the six of us are practically living in OSP as we focus all our efforts on finding Jason Baxter. I swear, the guy seems to have vanished into thin air. The best Eric and Nell are able to come up with in the first three days is the location of his brother in some jail somewhere, so I jump at the chance to get out of the office and actually do something.

Deeks volunteers to come with me, and with a smile, I agree, remembering the old days when we would go on almost every mission together. It's what partners do, after all. Sam doesn't join us; he's busy using his new administrative position to call in favors and pull strings – amazingly, people now owe him almost as much as they owe Hetty.

Hetty, of course, is doing the same thing Sam is (with the addition of intimidating people into giving her what she wants), and Eric and Nell are going through Jason Baxter's history in an attempt to uncover his trail. I really hope they get something soon, because I think I might just crack if I have to wait like this much longer.

So it is that it's just Deeks and me in the car, as we drive up to the facility that's been holding Emery Baxter as a prisoner for the last ten years or so.

Deeks and I make small talk for a while, but then it's unusually silent in the car until I ask, "So…how are you, Deeks?"

He snorts slightly. "Shouldn't I be asking you that question?" he counters; but I can see how his eyes tighten, and his smile becomes a little wooden.

"I'd rather not talk about it." Working this case has brought up too many memories I'd rather forget. The anger, the grief, the rage, the depression, the loss…I almost wish Vance hadn't put me on this. Why is it closure is usually more painful than not knowing? There's something a little backwards about that.

Deeks sighs as he turns the car. "You shouldn't keep it bottled up, you know."

I sigh too. "I can't talk about it, Deeks. It's too painful."

"But it does help."

"How did you get through it?" I'm genuinely curious; I want to know how everyone managed to move on.

Deeks is quiet for a while as he contemplates that. "One day at a time," he says finally. "I'm not going to lie, Kensi, and I'm sure as hell not going to try to pretend I know what it was like for you – but it was tough. I'd lost people before – hell, I'd lost a partner before – but this was different. I never really belonged anywhere until I came to NCIS. And it's not like you guys gave me an easy time of it, either…"

I smile ruefully.

"…but it was easier, more natural, being with you guys than being with LAPD. So when Callen died? That was probably one of the worst days of my life."

I wait for him to continue. He exhales and goes on, "I spent the next week in denial, although I probably wasn't as bad as Sam – I hid behind humor, cracking outrageous jokes and silly one-liners that never made anyone smile. Then one day, Sam just…exploded. He got really mad and yelled at me for not caring, for still joking around when Callen was gone. We argued, and it got pretty nasty for a bit – both of us were hurting badly but we didn't want to admit it to each other – until Hetty broke us up. I don't think I've ever seen such disappointment in her eyes."

I can't believe I wasn't around for this. How could I have been so selfish?

"Later," Deeks continues, "when I'd calmed down, I kicked myself for being so insensitive. That was when I finally admitted to myself that Callen was never coming back."

"You went from anger to acceptance?" I remark. "That's impressive."

"Nah," he says dismissively. "Believe me, I didn't skip any of the stages of grief. Bargaining and depression just went by in two hours, that's all. Anyway, then I went to Sam to apologize, but he wouldn't let me. He said it was entirely his fault, that he shouldn't have blown up at me like that, and we…well, we reached an understanding."

"That was it?"

"Well, no – I mean, you don't just get over something like that in a week – but we started healing then, I think. At least, I did. Sam resigned ten days after that, so I'm not sure what it was like for him."

I close my eyes as the tears threaten to overwhelm me. Sometimes, I really hate memory lane.

"What are you at?" Deeks inquires softly, and I know he's wondering what stage of grief I'm in.

It takes me a while to figure it out. "Depression, probably," I confess. "For the last few days I've barely been able to keep from crying almost the whole time. It's ridiculous." I smile wanly. I'm trying to be strong, trying to maintain my composed mask – but Deeks is my partner and he knows me too well.

"It's not ridiculous," he says.

I sigh heavily. "I know."

The next few days are full of conversations like that. I remember most of that week with startling clarity, but the memories which are ingrained most are those of the moments I spend talking with my former teammates. Despite the awful reason we're together again, I have to admit it's nice to be working with each other once more. I've missed my family. And it's hard not to get involved in all the catching up everyone seems to be able to do despite working around the clock to find Jason Baxter.

When I go up to Ops to report what Deeks and I learned from Emery Baxter, Eric and Nell make me sit down to talk to them. I try to protest, telling them that I should be getting back to work – but we all know the case isn't really going anywhere right now, so I eventually cave. Eric and Nell got the happiest ending of any of us, and I want to know how they managed it.

Yeah, okay, it's a little pathetic, but I haven't been happy in a long time.

I'm surprised to learn that Callen's death was in fact the catalyst for their relationship.

"After it happened, we all got pretty morbid," Eric tells me. "It was just so clear that we couldn't depend on our being alive at the end of each day, and I didn't want to die without telling Nell what I wanted to tell her, so I…well…" He smiles fondly.

"You asked her out," I complete the sentence for him.

"Yeah," he admits. "Best decision I ever made."

"You should have heard how he proposed," Nell puts in; Eric turns a little pink.

"Uh…we really don't have to get into that…" he mumbles.

"Oh, no, I want to hear it." Boy, do I ever.

Nell grins brightly and launches into what I can tell is her favorite story.

"Okay, so I'm coming into Ops one day, and I see this message on the computer telling me to hit our four favorite spots in town and collect a code from each. So I do that, and then at the fourth spot I also get another message telling me the code breaker is with Eric at the cinema where we had our first date. I started to get suspicious then, but I played along. So when I get there, I see Eric with this sweet smile holding up the keys to decipher the codes. He gives them to me and tells me to solve the message. When I finished, I'd spelled out his proposal for him. That's when he pulled out the ring."

Eric has been steadily getting redder the whole time Nell was telling the story, and he chooses this moment to mutter his protest: "I wanted it to be different."

"It was," Nell assures him. "And even though you practically made me say it for you, I liked it. It was so…you."

Eric smiles back at her, and I find myself thinking how wonderful it is that they've come together this way. Then my thoughts turn melancholy as, inevitably, I remember Callen. If he hadn't died, would we be reminiscing like Eric and Nell are now?

"I think that's beautiful," I tell them. And truly, it is. They have each other to cherish through the hard times – it's probably why they've managed to move on better than anyone else.

Nell must have noticed the sad, nostalgic light in my eyes, because she says softly, "It would have been beautiful for you and Callen, too. I wish you could have had the chance."

I nod and blink away the stupid tears that are forever in my eyes nowadays before leaving.

I make my way to the balcony, where I can see the setting sun in the red and orange evening sky. I feel like screaming and crying at the same time, but I don't allow myself to do either. With Callen gone, I'm the team leader, and I can't let them see me fall apart. I have to be strong for them.

But how can I, when no matter which way I go, I can't get away from the memories? Take this balcony, for instance. It used to be our favorite spot in OSP. Covert kisses, intimate hugs, comforting words – they all were exchanged here. This balcony was our place of haven in the office.

Behind me, I hear footsteps – Sam's – and seconds later the former SEAL comes up beside me to lean on the railing. His presence is comforting, but he doesn't ask if I'm okay – he knows as well as I do that it's a stupid question to voice in this situation, because none of us can possibly be okay.

Instead, he inquires, "You want to talk about it?"

"No."

Everyone's been sharing bits and pieces with me about what it was like for them after Callen died, how their lives turned out – and everyone keeps asking me to do the same, but I can't. I'm sure they all know I haven't moved on, and they're trying to help me do it – and I appreciate that, I really do – but it just won't work. Deeks, despite the fact that he could always make me talk a bit, was but a close second to the only person who had ever been able to get me to open up properly. That was Callen, and he's gone now – and I can't talk to anybody about his death and how it affected me. I just can't.

"You know," Sam says presently, looking at the city, "when G died, all I could think of was getting the S.O.B. who killed him. I couldn't focus on anything else. I hardly ate or slept, and I stopped talking to anyone."

"And you fought with Deeks," I fill in the blank. He chuckles wryly.

"Yeah. It wasn't his fault – I realized that after I'd calmed down. He came to me and I apologized, but I wasn't over it."

"Deeks says that apology was when he began to heal."

"Not for me."

"What was it for you?"

"My wife." Sam looks thoughtful. "She was really supportive, always trying to help – but she reached the point where enough was enough. She broke down and told me I wasn't her husband anymore – that I was just an empty shell of a man."

"It woke you up," I surmise.

"Yeah. I resigned from NCIS the next day. Went into administration – the work's boring enough to make Callen sleep" – I can't help laughing – "but boring's good. Nothing can ever happen."

I sigh. "I want to move on, Sam," I say. "But I don't know how to. I can't just…let him go."

He turns to look at me, his heart in his eyes. "I know, Kensi," he says soothingly, reaching out to place a comforting hand on my shoulder – it feels nice, something warm and loving that I've dearly missed. "I wish I could tell you, but I had a hard enough time figuring out how I was supposed to do it. There's no way I could explain it to you."

"I'm tired," I admit.

"I know. But no one can do this for you, Kensi. We're all different – we all deal with it differently. This is something you have to figure out yourself, in your own time."

"Sam," I say, "I've been trying to do that for seven years."

"Who asked you to run?" Sam challenges me. "One reason we managed to get through it was because we stuck together and kept in touch even after we all separated. Grief is better dealt with together."

"And Hetty?" I ask.

"Hetty's a different matter. She's in a class of her own. None of us can even begin to imagine what goes on in her head."

"A lot of things, Mr. Hanna." Hetty herself appears behind us even as the final orange rays of the sun bleed away.

"Hetty," I greet her.

"Ms. Blye," she acknowledges.

"I'm gonna go see if Deeks needs help," Sam says, backing away. Subtle, Sam. Very subtle.

"What are you thinking about, Ms. Blye?" Hetty asks, taking over Sam's spot next to me as the last of the evening light fades into night.

The answer is easy – I'm practically always thinking of him. "Callen."

Hetty sighs, and behind her glasses, I see the heavy sorrow in her grey eyes. "That was a terrible day."

"It was," I agree.

"And this case is not making it any better."

"No, it's not." I give up trying not to cry and allow a few – and only a few – tears leak. "Hetty, it's been seven years. Why is it still so hard?"

"It's never easy losing someone you love."

"I've dealt with it before. My father, Dom, a friend back in high school…"

"They were different, Kensi, and you know it. You didn't merely love Callen – he became a part of you, and you him."

"Now I see why he kept his distance for so long," I say. "It's just too hard to let anyone go after you let them get close."

"And yet, there is a flaw in that as well. Tell me, Ms. Blye, which is worse: loving and losing and hurting, or going through life cold and aloof with no one to call friend?"

I sigh as I answer, "The second one."

To my surprise, Hetty actually smiles. "Then I'm glad for you – for you still are trusting enough to believe in love. It is a wonderful thing which should never be lost, no matter how many times and how much we hurt. Love always makes the world a better place, so they say."

"Don't you believe that?"

Here Hetty exhales. "I try, Ms. Blye. It is not easy, because I have seen so much heartache and pain in my time, and I don't always succeed – but I try."

"Does it ever get any easier?" I wonder.

"Each death brings its own painful barb, but if you see enough of it, eventually, yes, you learn to let go quickly and be more dismissive. But I hope you never reach that point; it is a terrible thing to see so much death that you become, in a way, desensitized."

"I don't know if I can move on, Hetty." It's the first time I've ever admitted it to anyone, and I find myself scared that it's actually true. I'm not sure if I can ever recover from losing Callen. "I feel like I'm swimming in the dark, like there's never going to be another sunrise."

But Hetty just turns to me with a wise expression on her face.

"There will be, Kensi," she assures me. "The human heart is big enough to love so much, but given time, it is adaptable enough to let go."

"How long does it take?"

"That is for you and you alone to answer. It is your heart. But believe you me, eventually, and sooner than you think, you will be able to let him go."

A/N: Whew! This was really heavy on the angst. Anyway, hopefully the kink between FF and my email will be fixed soon so I can receive all the alerts from FF.

Two moe chapters to go!