A/N: So I promised this story would get done... I'll get there eventually but I've had a few changes that have taken up my every waking minute. I've gone back to college, changed careers totally, and started a new (full time) job in a totally different field while in school... I'm putting up a Christmas tree and wrapping presents after this so Merry Christmas/Happy Holidays! I'll leave the ending to this chapter up to the imagination to keep in my PG rating, but I hope you enjoy! I've got three more weeks before college starts up again so I'm going to try to get another chapter out at least while I only have work to worry about...

Chapter 12: Killer in the Mirror

"Now I know there's no one I can trust

I used to think there was

Tell me that I'm cutthroat

I think you got your eyes closed

Feel the fear and swallow back the tears

Let weakness disappear

There's nobody but me here

The killer in the mirror" – Killer in the Mirror by Set it Off

…...

The warehouse door closes behind him with a thud and Callen breathes deep trying to push away the guilt that rises up in his soul. It's not the first time he's taken extreme measures to stop a partner or team member from following him but drugging Kensi and Deeks is both the easiest and hardest thing he's ever done. They're family and if anything were to happen to either one of them, he'd never forgive himself and he's pretty sure Hetty would never forgive him either.

It's a betrayal and somewhere deep down he wonders if he hasn't made a huge mistake but Yuri's dangerous, he's dangerous, and they're both better off far away from the monster that is the Ghost. He never meant to bring Yuri back, spent years trying to pack that persona into a little box to never be opened again, and it tears away a little more of his humanity each time he gives in, because Yuri comes out a little easier each time and never fully goes away. It's a whisper in the back of your head, a tickle under your skin, and he isn't sure how he's going to go home after this.

He's not done yet though, and Yuri's necessary because the people that almost took his partner are just the tip of the iceberg and there's a missing nuke in the hands of a terrorist cell. He knows how to find them now, knows who betrayed them and every splintered piece of Special Agent G Callen and Yuri the Ghost Bhutan demand that they pay. All of them.

It's the first time in ten years he's been glad to let out the Ghost, the first time in a very long time he's wholly let go, and when he shivers from the depth of his soul it's Yuri that grins back. It's the fear of eyes in the darkness, the breath of something unknown on the back of your neck. It's the emptiness in the eyes of a predator and a rage that's turned whole cities to ash. He's going to enjoy this.

He's in far too deep, let Yuri out of the box way too easily, but there's something compelling about letting loose, something freeing about letting the darkness out to play, and Yuri's his salvation because as much as he's soaked his ledger in red, he never would have survived the CIA without him. He looks over then and grins, shark-toothed and razor sharp in the blazing Indian sun, and locks eyes with the spook outside the door. He's ex Agency, a former contact, and now hired merc, and he knows the legend that is the Ghost first-hand.

It's been years since he's been this close to the man he remembers only by call sign but it's unmistakably the same legend. There's something deeply disturbing about the look in his eyes, icy blue with a coldness that chills his bones and a rage that reminds him of the body count the last time they met. The Ghost steps closer and he feels like shrinking or at least reaching for a weapon.

"If anything happens to them..." Callen trails off, even Yuri's breathtaking rage isn't enough to make it clear what he'll unleash if anything happens to the other half of his team. Thankfully, the spook nods a little shaky and pale but understanding, and Callen pulls together enough of his control to make Yuri back off. He steps away, tilts his head at the patter of paws that follows him, and somewhere buried underneath the cold apathy that is Yuri Bhutan, Callen smiles to himself.

…...

He's back in Red Square, under a brilliant Indian sunset before he stops to consider the team members he's left behind. It's crowded, busy, the bustle of people going about their day more than enough to cover the sounds of his footsteps down the alley. He pauses for a moment, back against rough brick that he can feel through the thin fabric of his tee shirt, and tips his head up to watch the purple and gold bleed across the sky. Yuri isn't the type to appreciate the beauty in the colours painted across the sky, but Callen watches none the less.

Kensi's injured and Deeks hasn't trusted him since LA, and he can't bring himself to regret forcibly leaving them, because Yuri is a type of dangerous he doesn't want within a hundred miles of his team. He never wanted them to see him like this, never wanted them to see the darkness that hides in the corners of his heart, and he hates this so much. He feels like he's finally put the pieces together enough to make his little rag tag family, and now he doesn't know how they're going to come back from this.

It's dark by the time he comes back to himself, the colours darkened and bled out to black. He shakes off the lethargy, pulls the Agent in him back from the merc for one last glimpse, and then he grins, too many teeth and the feral rage of a predator shining through. He stalks from the lengthening shadows, the darkness bleeding into his eyes and the lithe grace that takes over his movements. He knows who betrayed them, knows the person who got Kensi shot, and they're going to answer to the rage bubbling up inside him.

By the time, he gets across the mezzanine the shadows have lengthened into early evening and they play into the darkness in his eyes. He sidles up behind the food vendors stand. He's armed to the teeth but hardly thinks he'll need any of it. Yuri's not the type to be afraid of getting his hands dirty and there's a score to settle that will end in blood. Bijoy Vasser is a bad man, the type to have tangled with the likes of the Ghost eight years ago, and he deserves every bit of what's coming to him.

Benji's still working on a stack of things to clean, the clatter of metal on metal and running water covering the latch clicking open as Yuri steals inside, feet silent on the rough floor. Yuri's leans against the opposite counter, and picks a skewer off the counter and twirls it idly between his fingers as he waits. There's a rage bubbling up inside him, dark and twisting like something's alive in his gut and it's watching, waiting behind the ice in his eyes. Callen's dangerous in a tightly controlled kind of way, Yuri in the way of a predator in the long grass, and this is one of the only times they've agreed. Kensi's family and she's hurt because of this man, and Yuri's been crossed in an un-survivable way because betrayal isn't something the Ghost will allow.

Benji stills, hands falling silent on the sides of the sink, there's creeping fingers on the back of his neck and curling dread in his stomach. It's the feeling of eyes in the darkness and the monster under the bed, and Benji sighs, eyeing the kitchen knife beside the sink. He's not going to survive this, he's known it since the moment the Ghost appeared back in his life, and he leaves the knife on the counter as he turns. There's a stillness in Yuri's posture, a peace with the monster inside that Benji's never seen before, not even eight years ago when he'd watched this man cut a bloody trail across his country, and it's far more frightening than the knowledge that he's not going to survive this night.

"Yuri," he breathes, barely a whisper in the space between them, and it's acceptance, and a prayer for redemption all at the same time. "Bhuta."

Yuri tips his head, hearing the note in his voice and the meaning taunt in his eyes. It's the curiosity of a psychopath, and a grin that shows way too many teeth. It's a wrong paid for in blood, and a brutal type of justice, and it's the past finally catching up because no one survives the Ghost.

"I'm sorry, old friend," Yuri murmurs, and somehow, impossibly Benji believes him. "But no one touches them."