A/N: Being on vacation is supposed to give you time to write. I've not written a darn thing in the last two weeks but in my quiet time I get to edit so you get to read. Callen has turned a corner in this story.

Leaving Home Chapter 6

I called Sara on Thursday evening after returning to the boatshed. It had been a busy week with back to back cases. I desperately needed some toaster time to decompress. Sara and I agreed for me to come over after work on Friday and I'd bring pizzas. The rising temperatures must have been getting too much for her and I was more than happy to bring dinner in hopes that it made up for my past indiscretion. It'd been a month since I walked out of our home and I hoped for a chance to talk about it, maybe even get her to see my side of the argument.

When I arrived, carrying two pizzas and a six-pack of beer, Gretchen met me with a whoop that I'm sure San Diego could hear. I put the pizzas on the table and picked up my girl and swung her around in pure joy. I reached for Sara and gave her a peck on the cheek but the reception for my kiss seemed cold. It left me wondering how the rest of the evening would go.

The back yard is shaded in the evening and we usually have no bugs so we opted to eat on the patio. The temperature had dropped a few degrees and the breezes kept the air moving so it was bearable. We ate dinner and then Gretchen and I played Hide and Seek in our very sparse back yard. Sara had started a few gardens of flowers and vegetables but the heat wasn't helping her and neither was the water ban. It took a lot of pretending on my part to play this game. Both Gretchen and I loved it.

An old shed, from before I lived here, stands at the back of the property. I've never used it for much. I kept the lawnmower and the rake in the garage and Sara has added more tools to the garage. I've always wanted to take the shed down. I noticed that Gretchen kept hiding in there and that some of her toys resided in there and looked like they had for a while. A thought to make it into a playhouse for her came to mind and the more I thought about it the more I liked it.

Sara had come back out with her water and another beer for me and sat at the table. I moved back to join her. Gretchen brought out toys to play in the sandbox with and while she might have liked me to hover she didn't really need me there so I moved back to Sara and the beer she'd brought out for me. "I see Gretchen has taken over the shed. I'd like to make it into a playhouse for her, you know, a place of her own."

Sara smiled at the idea. "Yeah, she'd like that. Take a look at it and see what needs to be done. Let's talk with her and see what she needs. She's not exactly the tea party and doll kind of girl you know."

I laughed at that because I remember the first dolls we bought her were left on the floor when she saw the ride on train Santa had brought her. Matchbox cars and other small cars and trucks were always strewn around her room. Baskets of trains and tracks were brought out every time Uncle Marty came over. No my little girl wasn't about tea parties or anything else girly. I knew that Uncle Sam's expertise would be needed and Uncle Marty wouldn't be left out of this.

The heat began to get to Sara so she excused herself to go inside. I moved over to the sandbox to sit with Gretchen. "Hey Buttercup, I want to ask you something. How'd you like that shed for your toys? I want to fix it up for you. Would you like that?"

Gretchen, being a true three year old, showed her excitement. Her dad had asked if she'd like her own building. What three year old wouldn't get excited? She got out of the sandbox and pulled me over to the shed and it seemed she'd given it some consideration long before me asking. "Daddy, can we make it like the Thomas the Train station? You know like on television?"

I have to be honest I don't know a thing about Thomas the Train except that she loves it. "Sure we can. I'll talk to Uncle Sam and we come up with something, okay?"

She jumped up and down but stopped her jumping suddenly and turned to me with a sad expression. "You can't tell Uncle Marty." She shook her head no.

I knew that Deeks would love to help but something bothered her. "Why can't I tell Uncle Marty?"

Her head kept shaking no. "He doesn't like Thomas the Train. He says trains shouldn't have faces."

I let out a little laugh. "Uncle Marty will help if it's something for you and your trains. We just won't mention Thomas, okay?"

She nodded and let out a big yawn. We ran around and picked up all the toys and then went inside. Gretchen told her mother all about what would happen in the back yard and what she thought the station should look like.

I took mental notes and knew what I had to tell Sam and Deeks.

Sara's eyes twinkled as we put our heads together and hatched our plans. I was relieved to find that it had to be red and yellow just like Thomas's and not pink and I'm just happy that there will be no pink cupcake in my backyard.

Gretchen's more pronounced yawning started and I volunteered to give our daughter her bath. Sara agreed and said she had something else to do. Gretchen and I played in the bath and I'm sure I came out wearing more water than was in the tub but I didn't care. I put her in her nightgown and placed her in her bed. She fell asleep almost as soon as she hit the pillow. I stood in the doorway watching her sleep almost regretting my action of a month ago. For someone who thinks he's a tough guy, I have to admit I am a pushover for that little girl.

I walked down the hallway and another beer waited for me. Sara must have put it there but she was nowhere to be seen. I picked up the beer and moved to my office or my man cave as Sara called it and sat at my desk. The bills were neatly stacked and most were marked paid.

"Afraid I didn't pay the bills?" Sara quipped as she entered the room. I never heard her coming again. She moves very quietly, sometimes.

I had to chuckle. She knew I didn't think she'd messed up. She's been paying our bills every since we'd been married. I never had any before and I didn't do banks. My trust issues played havoc with that idea. "No, I've no worries about that." I guessed this would be the time to discuss where my protective tendencies came from. Hopefully she'd listen. "Sara, can we just talk? There are a few things I need to explain about me and my past, things I haven't shared with you because they still scare me. It might help you understand where I'm coming from."

Sara nodded and sat down across from me to listen.

I took a sip of my beer, put it down and began talking. "When I was four I witnessed my mother being killed. A 'very nice' man gave me a toy soldier while his partner shot her. From that moment on my life became a series of painful memories. Some of which I blocked out. Somehow my sister and I were brought to the United States and placed in an orphanage. We were later split up and placed separately. Until ten years ago I'd forgotten I had a sister: like I said I blocked out some memories and some of them were good memories. I'm sure I've spent time in every orphanage in Los Angeles County. I don't remember much of them. From there I was placed in the foster care system. They were horrid places. Bad homes outnumber good ones 100:1. I know that because most of the ones I'd been place in were terrible. Children are brutalized by their 'loving parents.' People who were supposed to care for us beat us, took our possessions and the money that was supposed to be for our care. I learned distrust from them and it's a hard lesson to unlearn. I learned how to protect myself from beatings that put me in hospital and my younger foster siblings as well. I had two younger foster brothers who I could not save and it still eats at me and I swore no one would do that again. Becoming a Federal Agent came easy because of it. I protect my country and its citizens from people who would harm her and her citizens. It's who I am and I can't change that and further more I don't want to. Can you understand that?"

Sara reached for my hand. "G, when we got married I vowed that our home would be a haven for you to walk away and take a break. Do you remember that? When I married you I promised to care for you and keep you safe and without pain and I meant that. Your life must have been hell but that's in the past. Can we try to move forward from this?"

I nodded yes to all of her questions but still felt ill at ease.

I squeezed her hand in response. I understood where she came from. It would be easy for me to say yes and to think that it would all be over but would it? My head shook. "I'm trying to accept that but we're talking thirty-plus years of protecting and never being protected in return. You and Sam have protected me and in some ways Hetty has too but I still need to think more on this. Can I please have the time to do that?"

Sara blinked back a tear or two. I think she thought I'd say 'Yeah, let's do this' but my stubborn nature still felt I somehow held the cards on this one. "Sure take some time." She looked away from me. "Listen, I'm tired and want to go to bed, would you mind if we called it a night."

And there it was. The wall rebuilt itself between us again. She'd given me my cue to leave. I hugged her and carried what was left of my beer to the kitchen to dump it. I returned to the front door to say good night and walked out to my car.

The ride home made me feel regretful that I couldn't make it right and I blamed myself. I just could have 'fixed it" and went home. Why do I have to be so damn stubborn?