The fire trucks had started to pull back. Sirens were fading. But the tension around Nell and Callen was only rising.

Nell pushed the oxygen mask aside completely and stood up, shrugging off the thermal blanket. She still looked like hell—black streaks down her cheeks, her ponytail half-loose, eyes red—but her spine was straight, her voice clear.

"I don't get it," she said, her voice rising just enough to draw the eyes of a few nearby responders. "Why are you so mad? Is it because I didn't follow your order, because you couldn't stop me?"

Callen didn't move.

"Any one of us would've done the same thing," she pressed. "Sam, Kensi, Deeks—they've all risked themselves for the case. For justice. For each other. But when it's me? Suddenly it's reckless? Suddenly it's unacceptable?"

She threw her hands out, frustration pouring out of her now and she shook her head and took a step away.

"I'm done," she said flatly. "We're not getting anywhere here."

But as she turned to leave, Callen reached out and gently caught her wrist.

His grip wasn't forceful—but it was firm. It stopped her.

When she turned back, expecting more resistance, his expression had changed.

The anger was gone.

"You need to go to the hospital," he said quietly. "You inhaled a lot of smoke."

"I'm fine."

"I'm not."

That made her pause.

He looked at her then—not as a team leader, not as someone who was supposed to keep her in line—but as someone who cared. Who had watched the building go up in flames and thought she might be in it.

"You scared me, Nell."

The weight of those four words landed harder than anything else he could've said. Her breath caught, just a little. He let go of her wrist, but she didn't step away again.

For a long second, neither of them said anything.

Finally, Nell looked down, her voice quieter now.

"I didn't mean to."

"I know," Callen said. "But you did."

Nell lifted her gaze to meet his, the weight of everything still lingering in her chest. But before she could say a word, Callen pulled her into a hug.

Quick, instinctive—but real.

One arm wrapped securely around her shoulders, the other hand gently cradling the back of her head. She froze for half a second—then leaned into it. Just for a breath. Just long enough to feel steady again.

He didn't say anything more. He didn't need to.

When he finally stepped back, his voice was quieter, but firm.

Maybe they still had some things to work out but they'd get there...together.