HAUNTED DREAMS

Disclaimer: NCISLA characters belong to Shane Brennan. All original characters and this story are mine.

Chapter 1

Dark shadows hung low over his head as he tried to run from the pounding feet. He scanned the area and found a bush that was big enough to hide in. He crawled underneath the branches and sat, curled up into a ball. His whole body shook from fear of being chased by men with guns. He had no idea why these men were after him, or who they were. What had he done to have this happened to him? The air was moist after the heavy downpour, it had subsided, which he was grateful for. He felt cold to the bone from being wet and worried he might end up in hospital again. And he really disliked them.

Callen sat bolt upright on his bedroll as the nightmare faded to the back of his mind once more. He rubbed his clammy hands over his face, wiping the sweat away. Each night G. Callen was haunted by bad dreams, ghosts of the past and bad memories. During the day he was able to compartmentalise them and survive the day without any concern. He would banter with his partner and the junior members of his team with ease as if he lived a happy life. But the fact was he was lonely. No given name other than a letter. No family to care for him, not in a real long time. The closest he had to family was his team. His boss, Henrietta Lange mothered him, which although he tried not to show, he enjoyed it somewhat. Sam had become like a brother to him, and slowly, but surely, he had also let the rest of the team in. A family of people who worked together in secret to save the innocents. He knew only too well he needed to sleep better so he could be at his best to perform his job. But lately, his dreams haunted him more and more, resulting in less sleep even for him. Mistakes could cost him or one of his team their lives. It worried him that he might put them at risk and be asked to leave. No family wanted him for long growing up. Why would now be any different?

His cell vibrated indicating an incoming call. Callen looked at the caller ID and saw it was Eric. "Hey Eric, what's up?"

"We need you in ops now, Callen. We have a situation," Eric urgently requested.

"On my way now." Callen disconnected the call and quickly washed the sweat from his body and dressed into a plaid shirt and black denim jeans. He pulled on his Blundstone work boots, grabbing his keys, ID and gun as he walked out the door. The drive was quiet with it still being early on a Monday morning. At Five am, the light began to rise above the San Jacinto Mountains to the east of the city of Los Angeles. The orange hues broke through the darkness and suddenly Callen felt human again. He needed coffee, but today it would have to wait. As he pulled into the car parking lot beside the condemned building, he noticed he was the first to arrive. He creased his brow as he tried to ascertain why no one else was there yet. Sam usually arrived around the same time, with Kensi and Deeks slightly ahead of them. Something was not right.

He unlocked the door to the mission and climbed the stairs to find Eric alone. "Where is everyone, Eric?"

"They're coming. They had to make a detour first," Eric explained.

"A detour to where?" Eric brought the camera feed to the boat shed up on the screen.

Callen watched the rest of his team talking to a couple, who were obviously in shock over something that had happened. He furrowed his brow as he recognised the man and woman. They had aged somewhat, but they were definitely the same people.

"What happened to them?"

Eric looked at Callen strangely because of the soft voice he had used. "Callen, is everything okay?"

"Huh! Yeah. Why?" Callen reined in his emotions trying hard to hide what he was feeling.

"You're um...using a strange voice," Eric gulped as he saw Callen glare at him. His steely blue eyes pierced him sharply into his heart.

Callen chose to ignore Eric and concentrated on the people at the boat shed.

"Why wasn't I called to go with the rest of my team?" he demanded.

"Because this case is too close to you, Mr Callen." Henrietta Lange, former CIA spy entered the Ops Centre undetected once again, making Callen and Eric jump at the sound of her voice. The fact that Callen had not heard her enter, proved to her that her team leader had recognised the couple in the boat shed.

"What happened to them, Hetty?" Callen stood still with his arms crossed over his chest, placing distance between them.

Eric looked between Hetty and Callen trying to figure out what was going on between them both.

"A group of armed men broke into their home just after midnight, holding them hostage until a neighbour raised the alarm. Your team rescued them two hours ago," Hetty revealed.

"Without me? Why? I've not seen them since I was…"

"Nine. Yes I am well aware of that fact, Mr Callen. You responded well with the Harrisons, but then you ran away. You disappeared for two months afterwards —- you were a thorn in my side back then. The Harrisons never told me why you ran away, nor could they understand what went wrong. You had been doing so well. You were sleeping all through the night, you excelled in school, for two months you were happy." Hetty paused and turned to Eric.

"Could you give us a few moments alone please, Mr Beale?"

Eric stood from his chair and exited holding his tablet, glad to be out of there. Whatever happened to Callen when he was nine was something Callen didn't want anyone to know about.

"It's time to talk about what happened at the Harrisons', Mr Callen. And I mean now," Hetty commanded.

Callen shook his head. "No, Hetty. I'm not going there. Not now, not ever." He went to pass Hetty, but she blocked his way.

"Yes, Mr Callen, or I'm suspending you for obstruction to a Federal investigation." She pulled no punches. She had been patient long enough.

"Then suspend me." Callen walked around Hetty and exited the room. He climbed down the stairs to see Nate waiting for him. He fiend a smile.

"Hey Nate. Good to see you again. How long are you in town this time?"

Hetty watched from the first floor with interest. Callen was good at masking his emotions, but she knew this case had evoked feelings he did not wish to experience again.

"Hey, Callen. As long as I am needed." Nate stood in front of the smaller man prepared for Callen's escape.

"Well I've got to go, so I'll see you around then, hey!" Callen took a step back to walk around Nate, but Nate countered his move, which received raised brows from Callen. He was taken aback by Nate's move, yet at the same time he was impressed. As a chess man, Callen enjoyed playing the game with his tactical moves.

"Can I help you with something, Nate?" He remained in denial the fact that Nate was there for him.

"It's not what you can help me with, Callen, it's more like how can I help you," Nate pressed.

"If you want to help me, Nate, you can get out of my way." Callen gave Nate a stare down to make him capitulate, to no avail.

"You need to talk about what happened at the Harrisons', Callen. I'm here to help you..."

"No, Nate. You don't want to go there..."

"Why? Tell me, Callen. Please! You owe it to the Harrisons, if not to your nine year old self."

"Get out of my head, Nate. I'm fine." Callen fought hard to rein in his emotions.

"No you're not. Have you looked at yourself in a mirror recently? You're thinner than the last time I saw you. You have dark circles under your eyes, you are clearly not sleeping," Nate evaluated.

"I never sleep, Nate. Everyone knows that..."

"Then it must be something bad for you to look like crap, even for you." Nate had grown guts since he was last at the Office of Special Projects.

"Let's sit. You could use some coffee, am I right?" Callen looked down at his desk and noticed a take away cup of coffee.

"Stooped down to bribing patients now have we, doc?"

Nate ignored Callen's retort.

Callen picked up the cup and sipped the coffee, savouring the flavour as he swallowed. "Thanks!"

He appreciated Nate's thoughtfulness, it was just he was so tired and irritable at the moment. And now this case was nearly pushing him over the edge of his limits for control.

"Let's start with the two months you lived with the Harrisons'." Nate took Callen's decision to sit at his desk as a sign that he was willing to talk.

Callen continued to look at his coffee, watching the steam escape from the hole in the top of the lid. He seemed relaxed, but the reality was he was afraid. It was rare for him to show this emotion. He looked up and saw Hetty looking down. She nodded her head and walked back into Ops to leave them alone.

"They were really nice. Good people. I was happy for the first time since I could remember. They made me feel like I was worth something. They never raised their voices or hurt me in any way. I even enjoyed school for once." Callen smiled at the fond memories he had while he lived there'.

"What changed?" Nate urged him on calmly.

Callen stood and paced the bull pen. His whole demeanour changed as the memories came flooding back. He stopped and firmly gripped the screen that bordered their desks. Colour left Callen's face as fear took over.

Nate stood and walked over to him with concern etched in his face. "Callen, what happened?"

"Bad men with guns." Callen spoke as if he was in a trance. "They broke into the house shouting in a language only I could understand. They were angry at me. They wanted to kill me. I climbed out my bedroom window and ran as fast as I could. They chased after me, but I hid in a bush..." Callen's breathing escalated as the memory evoked the fear he felt that night, thirty-four years earlier.

Nate gently placed his hand on Callen's arm. "But you got away, Callen. You're safe. You are no longer nine and afraid."

Callen caught Nate's eyes as he returned to the present. "Yes, I am."

He calmed his breathing and returned to his desk. "So do you think what happened to the Harrisons' has anything to do with me?"

"It's a possibility. Whoever they were, they may have returned to see if the Harrisons' had any information about you, or heard from you since you left that night. Do you remember what language the men spoke?" Nate was impressed with the breakthrough he had achieved with Callen thus far.

"Russian," Callen replied. "But what I don't understand is how I even knew the language when I was nine? It was five years later when Ilena Rostoff taught me Russian."

"Perhaps you remembered it from when you were with your parents?" Nate suggested. It made sense now that they knew Callen's father was Russian. "Tragedy plays funny tricks on our minds. It tends to shut down memories that remind us of something bad that's happened."

"Maybe! But how did they know how to find me there in the first place? I still can't figure out who they were and why they were after me. We know about the Comescus and the blood feud they had with my family, but the Russians as well?" It was something Callen had tried hard to solve for most of his life.

"Enemies of your father's?" Nate asked.

"I wouldn't know. I mean we were placed under our mother's family name, so it would have been hard for enemies of my father's to find us."

"Whoever they are and for whatever reason, I believe they have returned. It seems too much of a coincidence for it not to be." Nate evaluated the two events and decided on his decision that this was a repeat of Operation Comescu. This time however, they had no clue who Callen's enemies were.

"Could Arkady Kolcheck help you out on this one, Callen?"

"I still owe him a favour from the last time a Comescu tried to kill me. I'll try." Callen stood and nodded over to Nate. "Not bad for one early morning start, hey doc?"

"I think the bribe helped," Nate joked, relieved Callen had capitulated and told him what had happened. It all made sense on why he didn't sleep much. Too much fear, bad memories and ghosts from his past haunted his dreams. He hoped Callen's chat with him might alleviate some of what haunted him at night and get more sleep, than he was getting beforehand.

It was just after eight in the morning when Callen pulled up outside Arkady Kolcheck's mansion. The air was still with no breeze, quieter than normal, Callen realised. He grabbed his weapon and had it ready at hand. He moved swiftly around the side of the house to the rear where he found his old friend reading the newspaper, while having his breakfast out by the pool.

"This is how you greet an old friend, Callen? Don't you think it's becoming too much of a habit?" He studied the younger man before him closely.

"You not sleeping again?" He had seen Callen like this once before, when they worked together in Russia. The toll it took on Callen back then almost cost him his life. If it wasn't for Agent Gibbs, Callen would be dead. That was certain.

"Come and sit with me and eat some food. You look like you could use some fattening up." Arkady rubbed his expanding belly as he tucked into some more bacon and eggs for his breakfast.

"I thought you were on a diet?" Callen asked him, hoping to deflect the subject off himself.

"I was, but all this stress you put me under, it takes a toll on my emotional health, so I comfort eat." Arkady smiled as he jested with Callen.

"I know a shrink if you want to talk to someone about it!" Callen quipped in return.

"Stick with your current job, Callen, you'll never make a good comedian." Arkady tried hard to keep the conversation light, so it didn't effect his digestion.

"I'll leave that for you." Caller's stomach grumbled, so he tucked into the food on the table.

Arkady watched on amused at how hungry Callen was. "You need a good woman to cook for you, Callen. When are you going to settle down?"

"No one would want me with all my baggage. Plus no one is safe if they are associated with me," Callen replied deadpanned.

"Don't I know it," Arkady chuckled. "I have to keep finding new bodyguards to protect me. The old ones keep getting killed." Although part of that fact was true, it had nothing to do with Callen. He had saved his life once when he turned up with his partner.

"Where is that giant teddy bear of a partner of yours? He is still alive, isn't he?"

"Yes, Sam's fine. He's tied up working a case at the moment."

"Without you?" Arkady noticed the brightness leave his cerulean orbs.

"Is everything okay, Callen?" Concern returned with the sincerity the old Russian held for Callen.

"Not sure. It seems some Russians want me dead."

"Well it won't be the first time..."

"I was nine when they first came to kill me. It appears they're back."

"What? Hang on a minute. Russians came after you when you were nine? How come this is the first time I am hearing of it?" Arkady suddenly lost his appetite.

Callen squinted his eyes as he tried to figure out Arkady's reaction to this news. "Why does what happened to me when I was nine bother you now, Arkady?"

"Well, um..I thought we were friends and friends tell each other things..."

"Tell me what you know, Arkady." Callen pulled his weapon out and aimed it at the former KGB. "All of it."

Callen's lack of trust issues made him paranoid and suspicious of everyone he met. But Arkady was an old friend and they usually spent time dancing around each other —- but this reaction from him caught Callen off guard.

"Okay! Okay!" Arkady waved his hands in surrender. "Just remove that gun from me. Please!"

Callen turned the safety switch back on his weapon and placed it into the rear of his jean's waistband. "I'm waiting."

Arkady sighed. "He's not going to like it one bit."

Callen tilted his head confused. "Who?"

"Your father. I promised him a long time ago to make sure I never told you that I knew him. That you and I would become friends and it was a good cover for me to watch out for you," Arkady finally admitted.

"You told me you didn't know my father..." Callen's voice raised with anger towards the Russian.

"I had promised Nikita. I couldn't go back on a promise." Arkady released a heavy sigh and shrugged his shoulders.

"But it doesn't matter now. If Russians have come after you, it's for revenge on your father. It's why you were placed in different orphanages, you and your sister. We thought you were safe with your mother's family name—-we had no idea about the Comescu blood feud. Then Amelia drowned and you moved between so many foster families, it broke your father's heart..."

"Where is he, Arkady? I want to know the truth..."

"He is hiding from his enemies. There are few he trusts. Just like you." Arkady laughed at the similarity of father and son. "I cannot tell you where he is. He will kill me if I do."

"Why? Why hide from me all these years and ask Rhinehart and yourself to look out for me? I needed him after my mom was killed. Amy and I both did." He heaved out a sigh. "Do you know my name? What my real name is? What the G stands for?"

"I think that's something for your father to tell you." Arkady hoped Callen would accept his answer.

"Do you or don't you know?" Callen raised his voice again. "It's a simple yes or no answer, Arkady. Don't you think I deserve to know who I am?"

"Yes you do, Callen. But I cannot tell you. Your father hid it from me. He said you were safer not knowing who you were."

"Don't you think it's too late for that? My father's enemies found me when I was nine. I ran away from a caring foster family because of them. I had to hide far away from them to keep them and myself safe. And now they are back. The same foster parents I had when I was nine, were invaded by Russian gunmen, looking for me. I want to know who they are, and right now. I'm not leaving until I have the answers I came for." His patience had run out. The bad memory from that night haunted him every night over the past month. He was curious as to why it had returned after filing it away such a long time ago.

"I will make contact. But you might be here a while waiting for a reply." Arkady stood up and walked inside to his study, where he shut the door for privacy.

"Nik. He's here and wants answers. Russians want him dead and he wants to know who they are. He knows I know you...It's too late for that. They found him when he was nine. He ran away from the family who cared for him to keep them safe. He is definitely your son. But they are back looking for him. He needs to know who he is up against." Arkady braced himself for Nikita's outburst, but received none.

"Then I have hidden him away from me for nothing," Nikita Reznikov resigned. "I will come to you. I'll be there in two hours. It's time my son knows who I am."

The call was quick, but successful. Arkady stood up from his desk and shook his head as he saw Callen leaning on the door frame. "You give me a heart attack sneaking up on me like that."

"I wasn't sneaking," Callen tried to reason. "What did he say?"

"He'll be here in two hours." Arkady ran across the room as Callen slumped to the floor.

"Oh heck Callen. What am I going to do with you now?"