A/N: So I woke up with this just rumbling through my head and decided to get it on paper before I slept again and it escaped...LOL! I hate the way the show keeps dropping this story line. Anyway...they have some seriously unresolved issues...sooooooooo here goes! Feel free to leave a note after you read...I love hearing from you...though, as my mouse hovers over the submit button I'm always afraid of the unknown... Constructive notes are always welcome, suggestions for future stories or chapters as well... okay, enough...goooo...read...review...and have an awesome day!

WHAT FAMILY IS

Callen closed the door and with no extra thought required, locked it before turning towards his kitchen. He had just spent the evening having dinner with his half-sister, Alexandra, her son, Jake and his father. He found it odd that what should be seen as a blessing now just felt exhausting.

They'd gotten together a few times now and he could see the easy relationship his father was developing with Alexandra and Jake. He envied her for being so open and willing. 'But…' he reminded himself, 'she'd grown up with a mother who could give her something positive to hold onto, unlike him who had nothing good…not even a small memory until recent years and that was only of his mother and sister. All he had of his father was a home video that could have been anyone for all he remembered and the ever present sense of abandonment'.

He let go of a heavy sigh as he twisted the top off of a beer and tossed it across the kitchen into the trashcan. He took a long draw on the beer before moving to his only chair.

He'd waited his whole life to find his father, his family. 'Why did it have to be so hard?!' he rested his head back in the chair and closed his eyes. It wasn't long before a soft but determined knock jolted him from his thoughts. Immediately on alert, Callen switched his light off and pulled his gun from his lower back as he moved silently to the door. Slowly he turned the lock, using his body as a brace to prevent anyone from just pushing the door open on him. He edged the door open just a crack before looking around to see who it was.

"Privet syn", his father said, raising his brow just slightly as he noticed the gun at the ready and his son tensed, ready for a fight. It saddened him to know this was how his son was forced to live his life, always on guard, prepared for battle. Nikita had lived that life and had hoped for better where his children were concerned. 'Just one more failure in a long line of them that he could never hope to make up for' he thought to himself. Callen had as much as said so at the cemetery the day of Mary Reynolds funeral.

"Damn it, Dad! What are you doing, coming here so late? I could have shot you!" Callen swung the door shut without restraint while holstering his gun.

Nikita looked around the bare room and slowly shook his head as he turned back to his son. "I doubt that" he replied, taking note of the look Callen had shot him. A look that almost begged the question as to whether it was a challenge. Nikita chuckled, "unless you had really wanted to…" His eyes twinkled with momentary merriment before returning to the somber reality that was their relationship.

"Why are you here? Didn't we just see each other?" Callen asked, his agitation with the intrusion evident.

If Nikita was surprised, he didn't show it. "I came to see my son."

"Why?" was the only response, not that he had expected more.

"Hetty warned me you weren't a fan of unexpected visitors…" Nikita stated.

"and this should surprise you, why?" Callen asked, his eyes narrowed, trying to read his father with little success….something that truly irked him. Callen prided himself on his ability to read people. Those he couldn't, he didn't trust and he had many reasons not to trust his father.

Nikita gave a small shrug of his shoulders. "I guess I shouldn't be and for that I will be forever sorry" he finally said, looking every bit the part of the scolded child.

Callen sighed and offered his father the chair to sit in, "You want something to drink? I have water or beer, your choice."

"No thank you, son, I'm fine. Seems you have actually lost a few pieces of furniture since I was here last…" Nikita responded, noticing that what little extra furnishings Callen had had in the house were now gone.

"You didn't seriously come here to critique my choice of décor or lack thereof? Fine, so what is so important it couldn't wait?" Callen replied.

Nikita fidgeted in his seat looking at the floor, "We've been to Alexandra's for dinner a few times now and you and I don't seem to be getting any closer…..I'm trying, Grisha."

Callen scoffed at that, "You're trying? When? When you put my integrity in question by forcing me to keep you out of jail? When the only time I see you is when we go to your daughter's house?"

"You're half-sister." He replied calmly.

"Whom you had with another woman and then abandoned just like you abandoned and forgot your first family…and who, by the way, you would have yet to tell the truth had I not forced your hand. Also, let's not forget which one of us here actually went looking for the other!" Callen shouted in return.

"I never forgot you or your sister. It nearly killed me when I learned of your mother's death."

"So much so that you didn't bother to find me and Amy?" Callen challenged.

"It wasn't safe. I had too many enemies." Nikita pleaded.

"I guess you never stopped to consider your wife's enemies?" Callen began to pace, rubbing his index and thumb against each other as he fought the emotions of anger and frustration he felt over the situation against that of the despair at being unable to connect with this man who was, for all tense and purpose, his father.

"That's why I had Michael Reinhardt keep an eye on you. After Amy died, I couldn't risk losing you too."

"Fat lot of good that did me! All it did, ultimately, was get him killed….and for what, so you could have pictures of the good times…few though they were. Understand, I use the term 'good' loosely. How about the bruises and all those trips to the hospital for stitches and broken bones? Did you get pictures of that too? How about all those birthday parties and Christmas mornings? Oh, right! There were none!" The anger was winning. He could see the pain register on Nikita's face. What bothered him the most, though, was that in this moment….he didn't care anymore than it appeared his father cared about the numerous beatings he had suffered as a child all those years ago. "And before you even start on how I was still safer there than had I been with you….don't! Because a real father would know that wasn't true."

"I AM sorry, Grisha." Nikita said getting to his feet. "I never wanted any of this for you. Perhaps it would have been better had I not come back. It seems to have only caused you further pain."

Callen stepped back. He wasn't sure what he expected to come of the conversation, but he hadn't expected his father to give up so quickly…to not even fight back… "So what? You're just going to leave? Disappear?"

Nikita's blue eyes locked with those of his son, searching for what, he wasn't sure. Callen stared back into those eyes so much like his, though dimmed with age….or was it sadness? "Why? Why won't you even fight for me? Am I not worth it?" Now it was Callen who pleaded, desperate to understand and know this stranger…stranger. That's what he was, not family, a stranger.

It was then that Callen knew what he was missing with this man. His eyes were drawn to the picture that hung over the mantle. The picture that proudly boasted the word "Family" and he knew… "You don't know the meaning of the word family any more than I did….until now." Nikita's eyes followed Callen's gaze to the pictures and stepped forward to take a closer look. Callen thought carefully and with a soft sigh he continued…

"I've spent my life feeling like I'm a nothing… a nobody… I've known plenty of people over the years who were more than happy to confirm that for me." Callen ran a hand over his weary face and aching neck, "I only ever wanted a family of my own and when that didn't happen, I gave up. As the saying goes, 'when you least expect it, good things can happen'."

Nikita glanced sideways at Callen, "Go on Grisha, I'm going nowhere."

"You think being family is about protecting through distance. I can understand why you would think that. I am equally guilty. I'm not sure I'm capable of erasing that belief any more than you are. Maybe it's too late for us…but I will tell you, this is NOT what being family is about." Callen looked over at his father to make sure he was listening before he went on.

"Family is Kensi with her coffee and donut runs on Monday mornings. Her reassuring smile when she senses something is wrong. Her hugs that needs no explanation but to show she's there and she's happy you are too…. Family is Deeks and his shaggy hair and goofy grin. It's the way he can find something to laugh about no matter how bad the day or how hard the case is. It's his ability to care for someone and forgive easily despite having survived one hell of a childhood…. Family is Eric and Nell and their willingness to keep going and keep searching for clues when everyone else has stalled. It's the way they keep the lights on at home to guide us through even the darkest of days… Family is Sam and the way he has my back every time we step out those doors. It's the way he never lets me get lost in the past or sit here alone when the past has come back to haunt…. Family is the way Sam, Michelle and their kids include me in their family without a second thought… Family is Jethro Gibbs who will stop everything and come help me if I needed him, no matter where, no matter what… Family is Hetty and the way she put me back together more times than I can count and never expect anything in return. The way she surrounded me with people who cared even when I fought her the whole way… Family is this crazy group of people who have stood by me, fought with me and for me no matter how hard or how many times I pushed them away. These people who waited for me when my first instinct was to run…alone….. This?" Callen pointed to the pictures in front of them, "is what family is….worth fighting for….worth staying for….worth dying for…"

They stood there, each lost in their own thoughts when finally Nikita broke the uneasy silence, "Grisha, what is it you are trying to tell me?"

Callen turned toward this man, this stranger…his father and offered a small tentative smile. "They raised the bar on what family is…if you want to be a part of my life…be my father…If I'm worth fighting for? You are going to have to reach higher. You're going to have to take a page from their book." Nikita looked into the eyes of his son and saw the truth in his words.

"Grisha, I love you. You have always been worth fighting for. I am sorry I have hurt you so badly."

"But am I worth staying for? Fighting for? Can you do that for me?" Callen asked blinking back the unshed tears threatening to fall.

"Yes, 'Moy Syn'" was all he could say, his voice thick with emotion.

Neither man seemed sure of what to do. Callen simply nodded his head, and said "okay".

Nikita placed his hand on Callen's shoulder and gave a gentle squeeze and then after a moment quietly left closing the door softly behind him. Callen glanced back over his shoulder at the soft click of the latch before turning back toward the pictures. If pictures were truly worth a thousand words…these pictures would tell the story of "What Family Is"….

Fini!

****** Privet Syn = Hello Son

****** Moy Syn = My Son