Title: "Titanium"
Rating: T
Genre: Drama, Character Study
Character(s): Hetty Lange
Summary: She can only hope that they'd be stronger. Hetty-centric.
Notes: Written for NCIS Verse's Bingo Tiles challenge. Theme twelve's 'gun,' which is going to be applied abstractly—if that makes sense. This is in slight reference to David Guetta's song with same title. Connected to Fizzle, Fizzle, Fizzle, Pop and Beyond the Stars. I know this had come later, but I still hope you enjoy!

She sings to them a silent melody whenever they're unwell. She hums the tune inside her head whenever she watches them—whether they're asleep on a hospital bed or hunching forward at their desks after a problem hits them hard. Her father used to sing it to her when she was little, after he tucks her in. She adores hearing it then. As she matures, she learns to appreciate its meaning more.

Water, water clean
The dark soil
The willow green
Wash, wash away
The tears and oil
From yesterday
Fire, fire burn
Winter's ashes
Springtime's urn
Wither, wither now
To a smoke
On raindrop's sound

Her father says it's about recovery, that no matter how life burns a person, something—or someone—will make it better again. And she believes him now, after all she's seen in her life. But she doubts they do: Sam, the mending soldier; Callen, the ever-skeptic and unwilling to trust; Deeks, the wounded in denial; Eric, the nightmare-imprisoned; Kensi, the confined broken soul; and Nell, the cautious.

She doesn't quite understand yet what they are to her. Children, perhaps? While out buying some materials for her home, she has spoken to a cashier who, after a lengthy but warm conversation, asked her about children and how many she had. She had responded "Six" without a pause.

Then again, with the relationships developing between a number of them, she does not even think it appropriate anymore.

But she does care for them, greatly. She must have, because watching them in their weakest moments seems to trouble and worry her more than it does them. Yet, only so much can—and should—she do for them. They are strong and able on their own.

Then a storm comes and sweeps them all off-balance, like the threat on two lives she's worked so hard to protect. With all of them helpless, the only thing she can do is sing to them a silent song.

Fire, fire burn
Winter's ashes
Springtime's urn

She denies she stands by their side out of love. To a woman who's made a lot of enemies, love is the kind of thing that kills its recipients. They're all she has to lose, and she's not willing to gamble that big a price.

Wither, wither now
To a smoke
On raindrop's sound

In moments when she hums to them, she wonders how their own fires will flame out, how they will emerge. Will they become souls lost due to her inability to hone them? Or will they be stalwart, resilient? Bullet proof?

She can only hope that they'd be stronger. Even stronger than she.

Reviews are welcome!