Callen sighed as he walked into the dining room looking at the two men sitting at the table.
He had a small flashback to meetings with social services as a child, people with folders sitting waiting to decide his fate. He didn't look any of them in the eye, but took the seat Hetty had told him to, as she waited for him to get settled then left the room.
A brief flash of panic crossed his face, if Carter hadn't been waiting for it he would have missed it.
"I hear you prefer to be called Callen." Carter said breaking the ice.
"It's my name." Callen replied bluntly.
"My names Robert Carter and this is my partner Paul Harris. We're Exit Counselors."
Callen couldn't resist the smirk, "So point me in the right direction of the Exit and I'll use it. Job done."
"That's exactly what we want to do." Carter replied.
Callen went to get up and use the exit, but then his phone vibrated. He looked at the message, glared and sat back down.
In the kitchen Hetty closed her laptop and smiled. She knew that now he'd decided to stay they would be able to help him. Mind you, her small, 'Stay or I will get Mr. Hanna to make you stay.' Message helped as well.
He would be mad at her for a few hours, but eventually he would talk to these men and then be able to move on with his life.
There had been times in his life Callen had described as almost hell. This beat that, he was so far in his own personal Hell right now that he owned the space. He had tried all the tricks he had learned over the years. He already knew The Calling was bad news and that they needed to be put down and he couldn't for the life of him understand why he needed deprogramming. After all, he was on the side of right. He'd renounced all that The Calling had offered, so why were Gibbs and Hetty making him sit through this? After all, a good beer, a burger and a few hours practicing his Russian would be far more productive than this.
Carter watched as Callen had listened to them describe their process to him and what they intended to do. He had watched as Callen had just barely managed to hide the flinch at the thought of having to talk to these people, but he knew that Hetty and Gibbs were counting on him.
"So, Callen. Tell us how you found yourself with The Calling?"
Callen shrugged, "Wrong place, wrong time?" he offered.
Carter smiled. "So they say, but how did you find it?"
"I've been in worse places." Callen replied, still cagey.
"So not a good childhood then."
Callen laughed, "Is there such a thing?" He leaned back for a moment, wiping his hand over his face, "They were useful for as long as I needed it. Then I moved on."
"You said…." Carter opened his file for a second, "You wanted to go back there, it was a mistake that you hadn't stolen the wallet…"
Callen jumped up and took the folder from Robert Carter's hand, "Where did you get this?" He growled looking down at the faded police report.
"Ms Lange let us have all the information that pertained to your time with The Calling. You may have it if you wish."
Taking a calming breath, Callen handed the paper back. He sat back down nonchalantly, "It's just paper." He sighed, willing his heart to slow down convinced they could hear its traitorous noise.
"So why defend it."
"I wasn't." Callen snapped back the lie obvious on his lips. "It's just… I don't like to think of it."
"Your time with The Calling or your arrest and incarceration in Juvenile Hall?" Carter asked.
For a second Callen shot a longing look at the door, but he knew he wasn't getting out of there without talking.
"The arrest, I didn't steal the wallet and I didn't deserve the three weeks inside. It wasn't good, the only good that came out of it was I met Hetty." He admitted.
According to the warden you were combative while incarcerated, you refused to learn with the other boys there and he said you acted like a prisoner of war."
Callen shrugged, he had known exactly how he had behaved while there. He'd carried on the same routine; Exercise, eat as healthy as he possibly could, remember his vows, Truth, Valor and Duty. He never mixed with any of the other boys in the center, they were not trained, they did not follow The Calling. They were not worthy to talk to. The other boys could sense the air of danger that surrounded Callen and gave him a wide berth, even the counselor at the detention center had expressed concerns that Callen was a singular minded individual with a strong focus on right and wrong but was resistant to working with him. Callen himself had hoped that when he got out he could go back to Alexei and Nadia, rejoining The Calling and the people he felt were family.
It was near the end of his three week stretch when he was finally allowed to make a call.
One of the boys had joked that Callen was calling his dealer, because he didn't have any family to call. After a short glare in front of the guards and a warning to stay out of his business away from them, the shaken boy had held his unblemished but bruised ribs and nodded promising not to say a word and had run as fast as he could away from him. (Thinking about it now Callen shuddered at the memory.) He had called the house, Alexei had picked up the phone and had lapsed into Russian as his father answered.
"Privet?"
"Father, it's Callen…" He held his breath waiting.
"I do not know a Callen." Alexei said the regret in his voice obvious.
"I am innocent father, I want to come home."
"You have no home with us child. You broke your oath. For what it is worth G, you could have been great. You are my greatest disappointment. You knew the rules, but you broke them you turned into a street thief. You should have been better, you could have been better." He said sadly.
"I will be, Father… Please…"
"Truth, Duty and Valor Callen." Alexei said softly before hanging up the call.
For a moment Callen had sagged, staring at the phone in his hand, then replacing the receiver his face had become a cold mask and turning sharply he had walked out of the common area and back to his room. Two hours later he had absconded from the detention center and three hours later he had found his life changed under the expert watch of one Henrietta Lange.
"I was a child. I made mistakes." Callen replied to Carter.
"Truth, Valor, Duty." Carter said softly, watching as Callen stiffened slightly and then hid it, "What does that mean to you?"
"Nothing." Callen lied.
"You said it to Marco. Were you going to shoot him? Was that your oath?"
Callen shook his head.
"Callen… You need to tell us…"
"I don't need to tell you anything, We don't Tell…" Callen snapped before realizing what he had said. "I mean… I…" He got up, pacing the room, unable to sit still.
"You didn't try and go back?" Carter asked. "After you had been taken in by Ms Lange, did you try to rejoin The Calling?"
Callen paused in his pacing. He hadn't told anyone, not even Hetty, that he had tried to go back. The memory hurt just too much.
He sank back onto the couch, his fists in a tight ball so much so that a drop of blood dripped through his fingers and dropped onto the rug where it fell unnoticed by his feet.
"Once." He admitted, his voice barely a whisper. "I went back once."
He had been with Hetty for two months. She was nice and hadn't hurt him. She had taught him about trust and how to slowly trust others. Duke, her bodyguard and friend, would take him to school and pick him up. Duke taught him to surf, to spar without hurting others and how to focus the rage and pain he felt.
But the one thing he was missing was the feeling of family that The Calling had given him. Whenever he had brought the subject of his family up with Hetty, she had gotten a sad look on his face and reminded him that although he could have a home with her for as long as he wanted, she could not adopt him and she wasn't his family.
It had been the day after one of these arguments when he had caught her staring at a photograph of a beautiful young woman, which Hetty had quickly placed in a drawer and locked with a key that Callen had decided he needed his family. The only people who had ever called themselves his family was The Calling.
He waited until Duke had dropped him off at school, watching as the dark colored Jeep drove away, then he set his plan in action, walking away from the school he caught a bus to the center of Los Angeles and then two more to Reseda. Two hours later he stood outside the small, yet imposing house where Alexei and Nadia lived.
Something stopped him going to the door.
He stood, leaning against the lamppost watching as Nadia busied herself in the kitchen, no doubt baking bread for the day which was something she did often. He felt his mouth water at the memory.
The side door opened and Alexei walked out with a boy who look surprisingly a lot like Callen beside him. The boy was also about 15, lanky and blond. He laughed as Alexei picked up a football and tossed it to him.
"Catch Moy Syn." He called.
The boy laughed, "Good throw Father." He called back.
Callen felt a knot he couldn't explain in his gut. It churned and twisted as Alexei tossed the ball a few times and then slung his arm around the boy's shoulders and turned him in the direction of the barn where lessons were held.
"Come Moy Syn, time to learn. You are the best son I have ever had, time to make me proud."
"I will Father." The boy replied as he walked beside Alexei.
As he closed the door, Alexei looked over at the stricken Callen, who slumped down the lamp post and sobbed, then Alexei allowed himself a small smile and closed the door.
The boy was damaged and broken, but he would always know exactly where he was.
Hetty had stood watching as Callen broke. She had seen the fight or flight response in him and had dropped what she was doing to go immediately to him as soon as Duke had called her when Callen had not gone into school.
Her heart broke for the boy, but he needed to realize that that wasn't the best place for him.
"Mr. Callen?" She said trying to sound surprised.
Callen wiped his eyes and looked up at her. "Did Duke call you?" He asked.
She smiled, not replying to his question, but rather posing one of her own. "Are you hurt?"
Callen shrugged, "I'll live." He stood up and wiped his hands down his pants, brushing off the loose grass. "I take it I have to go back to school?" He sighed.
Hetty smiled. "Not today Mr. Callen. Today… I think we need some family time."
She had relented, just a little. She would not allow him to call her mom. Knowing that one day she would have to tell him about his own mother. But once a week after that day (College courses and later on cases permitting) they would spend at least a few hours together. Sometimes visiting an art gallery or a place they found interesting. Sometimes just sitting in the garden trying one of Hetty's new teas. Despite all Callen had told Sam over the years about him not needing a family, he had needed this. It might not be a proper family, it was small, broken, but still good and it was his.
Carter smiled as Callen finished recounting this all to him.
"So you found a family after all?"
Reluctantly, he nodded. "Wasn't the one I had been looking for, but they left me and I found this." He admitted.
Like Marco, Carter now knew that Callen could be helped as well. Unlike Marco, whom Carter and Harris were already arranging to be taken to a secure facility to be helped, Callen would be able to go back to work without too much of a delay. Now all he needed to do would be to present his report to Ms Lange.