G came awake slowly, with the fuzzy-headedness he associated with strong pain killers. Some kind of hospital, maybe? But one without a strong antiseptic smell. He lay still, keeping his eyes closed but stretching out his other senses.

For long moments, all he heard was the low hum of machinery. Finally, G risked opening one eye. Given the number of times G and Sam had sat vigil at each other's bedsides, G wasn't surprised when he saw a black person leaning over him.

He was surprised that it wasn't Sam, or even Michelle. Instead it was a young woman. She looked familiar, but through the haze of pain not quite dulled by pain killers it wasn't until she smiled that G recognized her and let both his eyes open.

"Princess." He said, and his voice rasped out of his throat.

"Agent Callen." She smiled again and offered G an ice chip. While he let the chip melt in his mouth and she worked at the machine beside his bed, G surveyed his surroundings, from the leads running from his body to the machine where Princess Shuri worked to the casts on one arm and one leg and the bandages around his ribs to the monitor at the foot of the bed, to more equipment than he could name.

The highest of high-tech hospitals, he concluded. Therefore, Wakanda.

He hadn't needed medical facilities on his last trip, but he'd seen them on the tour Barton gave him.

"Sam?" he asked when he thought he could speak clearly.

"I let him know you're awake," Shuri replied. "So he should be here any -"

"We need words, G." Sam strode into the room, and despite his somewhat scowly expression, G thought he'd never been as happy to see his partner as he was now.

But of course he hid that behind their usual banter. "We almost never need words. And even if we need them now, do we need them now?"

Then Michelle appeared behind him. "I tried to stop him, G."

"Not very hard," G grumbled, knowing she'd accept it as the teasing he meant. Then he gave an internal sigh and gave in. "Why do we need words, Sam?"

"Because you said you might hallucinate Michelle," Sam said. "My wife."

G glanced at Shuri and saw that she shared his amusement. Then he regarded Sam seriously. "Are you saying your wife isn't worthy of being hallucinated? I'd be insulted if I were you, Michelle."

"Don't deflect, G, it won't work," Sam declared. "The only one who should be hallucinating my wife is me."

G thought he needed fewer painkillers to be having this conversation. Or maybe more. In either event, he said, "Are you sure you should be out of bed? Because you're not making any sense."

"Relax, Sam." The new voice made G's pulse jump, and he could only be glad that this hospital didn't have a noisy monitor to ping out his excitement at seeing Natasha, his Bella, slinking into the room. "He'll hallucinate me from now on."

"I will?" G asked.

"You'd better." She came closer to his bed, giving Sam a glare that didn't quite hide her amusement.

G grinned, then frowned. "Wait - where's Gibbs? He was there, right? I didn't actually hallucinate him, did I?"

"He was there," Michelle said. "But he was never here."

"You weren't, either," G pointed out. Michelle just smiled, and G let it go. Obviously, he'd missed a lot and would have to catch up on things later.

"I let you see him because you needed to, but now you need to get out of my medical center," Shuri said. She, too, was smiling to rob the words of any insult.

"Sorry," Sam muttered, then looked at G more seriously. "You good?"

"Getting there," G answered.

"We'll be back later." Michelle came forward to kiss his cheek. "And you can hallucinate me all you like, as long as Natasha doesn't object."

Then Sam and Michelle were gone, and Shuri finished whatever she was doing and regarded G gravely. "I'm afraid you will be bedridden for at least six -"

"Months?" G groaned. "Not again."

"Hours," Shuri finished.

"Six hours?" G stared at her. He knew Wakanda had some advanced technology, but the thought that his injuries might be healed in six hours brought home that knowledge in a visceral way.

"I can keep you here six months if you prefer." The light in Shuri's eyes belied her serious tone.

"No," G said fervently. "I'll take six hours. I'll even be calm and cooperative for six hours."

"Of course you will," Shuri said. "I'll sedate you if you aren't, just as I did Agent Hanna."

"Michelle let you sedate him?"

"She helped." Natasha sounded amused. "And I'll help if I have to."

"You won't," G promised. "Be here when I wake up?"

"Of course."

When G woke again, he felt immeasurably better. Still not one hundred percent, but less like he'd been tortured for days. And he wasn't alone. There, curled beside him, was Natasha.

He smiled and started to wake her, but before his fingers could do more than twitch, the door to his room slid open and a swarm of children rushed in with a chorus of, "Uncle Callen!"

Okay, maybe swarm wasn't the right term, but Kamran Hanna and Lila Cooper dashed toward him, each with enough energy for several children. G braced himself for impact, but they stopped before they got to his bed.

"Are you okay, Uncle Callen?" Kamran asked.

G flexed his muscles and stretched, only then realizing that the casts he'd worn before were gone, as was the bandage around his ribs. He hurt, but it was the healing-sore kind of hurt, not the painful I-want-to-die hurt he'd felt while he was in Romania.

"I think so," G answered finally.

"Good!" Someone, probably Michelle, had warned her to avoid his ribs, because Kamran flung her arms around G's neck and held tight for long minutes. "I don't like it when you and Daddy get hurt," she mumbled into his neck.

"We don't like it either, I promise." G rubbed her back until finally she stepped away. G pretended not to notice her wiping tears from her eyes.

He looked at Lila, expecting similar treatment, but she stood away, a lot like Natasha had when he'd woken up the first time.

"Lila?" G prompted.

"I'm sorry, Uncle Callen."

He'd never expected her to say that. "For what?"

"It's because you brought us here to Daddy that you were hurt," Lila said. "And I'm sorry you were hurt because of us."

"Oh, Lila." G opened his arms. "C'mere. It's okay," he added when she didn't move. "Please."

Finally, Lila took one step forward, but it was close enough for G to stretch and catch her hand - huh, expected that to hurt more than it did - and tug her into a hug.

"You didn't do this, Lila," G told her. "You didn't hurt me."

"But -"

"No buts. The men who hurt me and Sam are bad men, and bad men don't need a reason to hurt people. They just do it. Don't let them make you feel bad for what they did, okay?"

"Okay."

G didn't know whether Lila meant it or was just agreeing because he'd asked. Still, he hugged her tighter before letting her go.

"We've tried to tell her that."

G had been so focused on comforting Lila that he hadn't seen Laura and Barton in the doorway to his room. Now he smiled at Laura's concerned expression.

"Maybe she'll listen to you," Laura added.

"Probably not," G said. "If she's as stubborn as her father."

"Hey, now, I resemble that remark," Barton said. "But I'll have you know Laura's twice as stubborn as I am."

G didn't respond as Laura crossed the room to him and it was her turn, apparently, to hug him.

"I'm glad you're okay," she said, and her glance flicked to Natasha, who lay still beside him. She was feigning sleep, G knew, and suspected Laura knew it, too. "But we should let you rest now."

"I feel fine," G said, and it wasn't a lie. Whatever Shuri had done, whatever medical miracles Wakanda contained, he was certain he could report for duty tomorrow if needed and not be a hindrance to his team.

Laura chuckled. "I'm sure you do. Maybe I should've said, we should leave you alone."

"That would've been more accurate," Barton agreed. "Callen? Shovel talk given."

G felt his eyebrows rise, but all he said was, "Shovel talk received."

Not that he needed it, he thought. However he felt about Natasha, she'd made it clear that they were only ever going to be casual with each other. Nothing serious, nothing permanent. G accepted her decision, even if it left him feeling hollow inside.

"See you later, Uncle Callen," Kamran said. Then she grabbed Lila's hand and tugged her away.

The Bartons followed the girls, and G lay back against the bed without reaching for Natasha as he'd started to.

"Raven." Her voice was the only indication he'd had that she was awake.

"You're here," he said, and then kicked himself for stating the obvious.

"I said I would be."

"You did." G rolled onto his side so he faced her. Some line of tension in her body kept him from reaching for her. "I owe you my life. And Sam's."

"Or maybe I finally paid you back for Budapest," Natasha countered. "Or maybe friends don't keep track of such things."

"Except to tease each other," G corrected, hoping his light tone hid the hurt her words had caused. Truth hurts, he thought wryly.

"It will be a long time before I'm ready to tease you about this."

Natasha's tone had turned more serious than G remembered hearing it since - well, since Budapest. He searched her expression for clues to whatever emotion might lie behind that seriousness but wasn't surprised when he found none.

Only way to find out is to ask. "Natasha?"

"Natasha, now? Not Bella?"

"You're a little too serious to be Bella right now. What's wrong?"

She looked down at the blanket covering him, smoothed it absently. "In the Red Room -"

G stilled, barely breathing. He knew what the Red Room was, though she'd only spoken of it once or twice in the dark of night when they lay together, open to each other in ways G never anticipated. For her to bring the Red Room up now, whatever she had to say must be very important, and he would try to be as open as he could be.

"They trained us - brainwashed us - to think that nothing was, nothing could ever be, more important than the mission. Even -" she paused.

"Sterlizing you," G finished quietly. She'd told him that early in their relationship, when he'd asked about birth control.

"Yes." She flicked her gaze to him, then back down to where she had moved from smoothing the blanket to running her hand over his arm. "Then I met Clint, and I started to understand that maybe they were wrong."

"Natasha." G caught her hand in his, then swore softly at the pulse monitor on his finger that impeded the gesture. His fumbling was worthwhile, though, because she smiled.

"Clint was the first," Natasha said. "Then his family. Then the Avengers - and now you. I'm not the perfect spysassin anymore."

"Spysassin?"

"Cooper came up with it." She blew out a breath. "I'm compromised, G."

G swallowed and squeezed her hand. "In the best possible way."

Natasha looked at him dubiously. "How can you know it's best?"

"Has to be," G answered. "Because I am, too. Same way. Have been for a long time."

She stared at him, her expression cautiously hopeful. He smiled at her and tugged on her hand. She bent forward, bracing her arm on the bed railing, and their lips met.

"Я люблю тебя, Bella," he said against her lips.

"And I love you, my Raven."