The Mojave had a way of lulling you into a false sense of stillness—flat horizon, stretching sand, skies too wide for comfort. The heat hung heavy, but it was the wind that changed everything. One moment, the team was walking back from an abandoned vehicle half a mile off the main road, voices low and casual, the next—

The horizon vanished.

A wall of red dust and swirling sand reared up without warning, slamming into them like a freight train.

Nell stumbled, hand flying up to shield her face, her boots dragging in the loose grit, but none of it mattered. She couldn't see. Sand stung her eyes and filled her nose. Her mouth tasted like earth. She turned in place, calling out, but her voice was swallowed instantly by the howl of the wind.

"Callen? Sam? Deeks?!"

Nothing.

It hit faster than any of them had anticipated. No time to prep, no cover. Just open desert and chaos. Nell squinted against the storm, eyes burning, panic rising in her chest as she spun again, blind, disoriented.

Then—

A hand.

Strong fingers caught her arm and pulled. Hard. She didn't resist—she couldn't. The moment her body collided with his, she knew who it was. His arm went around her like a barrier, guiding her low, shielding her from the worst of the storm as he tucked her into his chest.

"I got you," Callen said, low into her ear, the wind nearly ripping the words away.

She clung to his jacket instinctively, half-bent as he moved them sideways through the swirling chaos. He shouted, voice sharp and steady.

"Sam! Deeks!!"

Through the shriek of wind, two voices returned.

"Still good!"

"Holding!"

Callen didn't slow. His hand pressed against the back of her head, tucking her into him as he led them toward a jagged rock formation just ahead. Nell couldn't see a damn thing, but he did—he always did.

When they reached the rocks, he crouched and pulled her down with him, curling his body around hers to block the wind.

Ten minutes. That's how long they stayed like that—silent but close. Ten minutes of kneeling in the dirt with sand whipping past, of breath caught between them, of his fingers brushing over her arm. Ten minutes where she could feel nothing but the heat of him, hear nothing but the rush of wind and the solid beat of his heart beneath the storm.

Then, slowly, the wind began to fade. The air shifted. The world stilled.

Callen leaned back first, his voice gentle now, close.

"You okay?"

Nell blinked against the grit caked to her lashes. Her eyes watered, red and sore. Her throat was raw. But she nodded.

"I think so. Eyes are killing me."

He took her chin carefully between two fingers, tilting her face to check her over. Sand streaked her cheeks, her lips were cracked, and she looked like hell. But she was breathing. Awake. Whole.

"We'll flush your eyes when we get back to the car," he said softly. "You'll be okay."

She gave a dry, half-cough of a laugh. "You didn't have to go full bodyguard, you know."

His gaze stayed on hers, and despite the heat and grime and exhaustion, he smiled. A rare one. Small, genuine. Private.

"Yeah, I did."

She studied him for a second, her voice still raspy as she asked, "How did you even find me in all that?"

He didn't even hesitate. Just met her gaze steadily and said, "I always know where you are."

Her breath hitched just a little at the way he said it—like it was obvious. Like it wasn't even a question.

She looked away first, swallowing thickly.

Sam's voice shouted. "Everyone good?"

Callen looked over his shoulder. "We're good."

But even as he stood and reached a hand down to help her up, his eyes stayed on Nell, just a second longer than necessary.

And she noticed.

xxxxxxx

The storm had passed, but the grit still clung to every inch of skin and fabric. The sun had dipped lower in the sky, casting long shadows across the scrubland as the four of them trudged the final stretch back to the parked SUVs, exhausted and coated in desert.

Callen reached the cars first, popping open the back of one and grabbing a few bottles of water. He handed the first to Sam, then tossed one to Deeks without ceremony. Both men cracked theirs open and immediately began rinsing their faces, water trickling down with streaks of sand.

Then Callen turned to Nell.

She was blinking rapidly, her eyes red-rimmed and watering, jaw tight as she tried not to rub them again.

"Come here," Callen said quietly.

She hesitated, then stepped closer without a word.

He uncapped a bottle and gently placed his fingers under her chin, tilting her face up to the fading light. The look on his face was one of quiet focus, mixed with something a little softer. Nell stood still, trusting.

"This might sting a little," he murmured, before slowly pouring a light stream of water over her right eye, using his thumb to gently sweep grit away from the corner as it flushed clean.

She flinched, but didn't pull back.

"Other side," he said, his hand shifting to tilt her face the opposite direction. Another slow stream. Another soft pass of his thumb across her cheekbone. His touch was careful, patient—more than just practical.

Behind them, Deeks made a sound that was half cough, half amusement. "So, uh… do I get the deluxe eye-washing treatment too, or is that a strictly Nell-only service?"

Callen didn't even look at him. He just kept rinsing Nell's face, focused entirely on her as he muttered, "Help yourself, Deeks."

Sam snorted and leaned against the side of the car, arms crossed, amused.

Nell blinked as the water cleared the last of the sand from her lashes, her voice soft and dry.

"Thanks."

Callen finally met her gaze, his hand brushing a damp strand of hair from her forehead. "Anytime."

She lowered her eyes, and he stepped back, handing her the rest of the bottle. She took it and quietly turned away to finish cleaning up, cheeks flushed—but not just from the sun.

As she dabbed the last of the water to her skin, she glanced over her shoulder.

Callen was finally rinsing his own eyes now, leaning over with a fresh bottle, gritty water trailing down his face, his shirt clinging in patches where the sweat and sand hadn't fully dried. He winced a little but didn't complain—not once. Of course he didn't.

Nell paused, watching him. Watching the quiet way he moved, the way he'd taken care of her without hesitation, without even thinking of himself until now. Always steady. Always calm. Always just… there.

He could have left her to deal with it. Could've shouted across the sandstorm and hoped for the best. But instead, he'd found her. Protected her. Made her feel like the only thing that mattered in the middle of a chaos she couldn't see through.

She swallowed hard, her fingers tightening just slightly on the water bottle.

She'd always known Callen was reliable—sharp, fearless, loyal. But today, there'd been something more. Something gentler hiding beneath the usual steel. Something that made her heart ache just a little in the best possible way.

Yeah, she thought, looking away before he caught her staring.

He always finds me.