S04E23 Extra scenes after the end of "Raven and the Swans" (so contains spoilers).

Callen goes for a drink with Grace in an attempt to find out more details about "Hetty''s Orphans", however the results are more revealing than he anticipated.

* Amended from a one shot to a chapter story *

This is my first foray into fanfiction, and my first attempt at writing anything creative since I was about 15! Please read, enjoy and review...thanks.

Prologue

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The take down at the hospital had gone without a hitch. Grace Stephens had kept her cool, waiting until Vandenberg approached her bed before sitting up and training her gun on him. Callen had her back, with the rest of the team arresting Visser and his cohort before they could even draw their weapons. After the near chaos of the earlier operation at the hotel, the only complaint to be heard that evening was Deeks in the hospital corridor, moaning that this was the last time he was ever going under cover as a janitor.

As Callen walked back into the Mission, he glanced towards Hetty's office and paused. The row they'd publically had earlier needed to be resolved. The air needed to be cleared if Callen and Hetty were to regain any iota of their previous working relationship. Trust. That was the one word that Hetty repeatedly threw at him. Hetty had once told Callen that the one wish she had for him was that by the time he left NCIS, he had learnt the art of trusting others, personally and professionally. Callen still had complete confidence in Hetty as an Operations Manager, however the personal trust that he did have in her was being slowly eroded. She had withheld valuable information about his past, his mother – OK he'd compartmentalised that and moved on – but finding orphans and training them to become spies...Callen sighed heavily and moved towards Hetty's office, knowing that he was going to have to move on from this somehow, or else move on from NCIS altogether.

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The conversation with Hetty had proved extremely enlightening for Callen, and both he and Hetty sat in silence for a while, enjoying the whisky and their recovered status quo. The enigma that was Henrietta Lange had chosen to reveal one of her many secrets, and Callen was somewhat satisfied with himself about this. However, he figured it best to end the evening on this level playing field. Yet again he had so many questions he wanted to ask about 'Hetty's Orphans'. However if he continued to drink such smooth whisky, the questions would fester in his mind and had the potential to cause yet another explosion of his temper. The consequences of this would be much more severe than a chat over whisky; it would more likely earn him suspension for insubordination. And it had been a while since he'd been that out of control of his own emotions.

So Callen made his excuses and left for the boatshed to catch up with the rest of his team. He'd only had one drink and he jumped behind the wheel of his car and within ten minutes was observing Grace and Sam interrogating Vandenberg. His earlier assessment was right; Vandenberg was exercising his right to remain silent and no amount of tactics, from threats to cajoling were currently working. It had been a long day for the team, and Sam and Grace were showing signs of fatigue and frustration. Callen decided that they all needed a break and he called them out of the interview room.

As Sam and Grace gathered round, Callen spoke. "Look, Vandenberg is not talking. I think we should keep him in the interview room under armed guard with bright lights and all the comms links up. Make him uncomfortable. Kensi and Deeks can go back in 3 hours. He might be ready to talk then."

He looked at Sam, waiting for the inevitable protests that would follow. Sam didn't disappoint.

"Aw, come on G" Sam complained. "I reckon another hour and he'll crack. Grace?" Sam gestured with his arms as he spoke and appealed to Grace to back him up.

Grace looked at Sam and Callen as she deliberated. "No, I think Callen is right. Vandenberg is a tricky character and we could use a different approach. We're all tired and could carry on but why should we? We can go eat, rest and refresh ourselves while he's sitting on a wooden chair at a table for hours and hours on end." She looked slyly at the two men, who had both adopted a defensive stance, having crossed their arms. "Vandenberg is used to comfort and getting his own way. He doesn't like being ignored, so this will get to him. If we left him until tomorrow morning and I'm the first person he sees, we'll probably break him easily."

Sam reluctantly nodded his head in agreement and glanced at Callen.

"That's agreed then" Callen declared. "Sam, go home to your family. Agent Kearney will be the armed guard immediately outside the door, with Agents Williamson and Greene as the relief. I'll let Kensi and Deeks know they don't have to come back here." Callen made a move to the interview room, as Sam quickly caught up with him, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Are you good now G?" He asked earnestly, concern etched over his face.

"Yeah, you know me..." Callen replied nonchalantly, countering Sam's blatant concern with a vacant expression.

"Exactly, so are you good?" Sam asked again, rubbing a hand over his smooth face. "Look, I really thought you were losing it earlier; the indecision at the hotel was so unlike you. And I heard about your shouting match with Hetty. What's going on?"

"Nothing's going on Sam. And I am good. Now go home and prepare for your kid's party. I'll see you tomorrow." Callen cast a steely blue gaze at Sam before he turned and walked off into the interview room. Without uttering a word to Vandenberg he cuffed his right leg to the table leg and left the room. It was just one more inconvenience for Vandenberg to experience, thought Callen, tomorrow's interrogation should be fun.

When Callen returned to the main area of the boatshed there was only Grace left. She looked a little weary now the day's work was officially over. Callen was secretly still smarting a little as to how close Grace had been when analysing his love life. As she had openly admitted, her longest relationships were with arms dealers and criminals. Callen's longest relationships too, had been when he was undercover, although his didn't always involve criminals...He hope that the conversation he was about to start would not be taken the wrong way.

"Grace" he started, "I'm heading off for a bite to eat. Wanna join me?"

Grace looked up at him, tucking a strand of blond hair behind her ear. "What do you have in mind?"

"Anything really. We can get a takeaway and sit by the beach, or eat in someplace? Where are you crashing tonight? Does Hetty have you sorted?" Callen's barrage of questions made Grace smile.

"I would rather go to a bar, preferably one that does burgers. And no, Hetty doesn't have me sorted." She glanced mischievously at Callen. "I could crash at yours?"

Callen returned the look, knowing he could play this game just as well. "You could do, if you're happy sleeping on the floor..."

Grace looked slightly put out. "Well, that's not very chivalrous of you. How about I have your bed and you sleep on the floor?"

"I do sleep on the floor, and I don't have a bed." Callen stared at her, straight-faced, gauging her reaction.

"Interesting" Grace's eyes lit up. "Come on, let's go grab a beer, and you can tell me all about you and Hetty, and what it is you have against beds!"

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Callen drove them to Venice Ale House; right on the Boardwalk and they grabbed a table outside.

"I'd forgotten how much I'd missed LA" Grace admitted as she gave a cursory glance across the neighbouring tables. Callen observed her actions as he too had surveyed the area, a habit he was sure would never leave him. "Mind you, I never had you pegged as a man who'd feel comfortable in Venice?" Grace asked a leading question.

"Yeah, well..." Callen looked out at the Boardwalk, at the myriad of people, faces and colours passing by. "It's easy to disappear here."

"I suppose so. Downtown LA was more my area..." They were interrupted by a waiter, and they ordered drinks and food. As evening fell, the usual Californian sunset ensued, with vibrant pinks and deep blue skies providing the backdrop for the bright yellow sun dropping on the horizon.

After their burgers and their fourth beer, they both appeared more relaxed in each other's company. The small talk between them had been easy banter and rather innocuous, with anecdotes from various escapades encountered. Callen studied Grace as she took another long sip from her beer. He knew he had to turn the conversation round to Hetty and to Grace's past, and it might prove tricky for him not to give up any of his own secrets. Much though he liked Grace; attractive, intelligent, she looked and sounded tough - he didn't trust her. He was pretty sure that key details from their evening would be fed back to Hetty. That is, provided she hadn't actually wired Grace and was listening to them right now. Yes, Callen thought, paranoia could be added to the trust issues he blatantly had.

"So" Grace broke his train of thought, "What was it you and Hetty were arguing about earlier?"

Callen stared at Grace, thinking that saved him opening the Hetty conversations, and instinctively replied, "I told you earlier, it had nothing to do with the case."

Grace returned his stare, wondering why he'd suddenly become defensive. "I didn't ask if was about the case." She said pointedly, "from the reactions of Kensi and Deeks, it was highly unusual. Hetty rarely raises her voice to anyone, let alone shouts. So, why were you arguing?"

"You believe in the direct approach then?" Callen broke away from Grace's stare, instead focussing on the nearly empty beach.

"No point dancing around. I've noticed you're exactly the same as me." Grace responded. In fact she thought that she had a lot in common with Callen. Her instincts told her that they were cut from the same cloth. She also had a feeling that Callen and Hetty shared a past too.

Callen snorted in derision as he turned back to face her. "And that is exactly what we were arguing about." Grace met his eyes which were now a steely shade of blue, just as hers were. This conversation seemed to now heading for a confrontation, and she couldn't quite work out why.

"What, that we both speak our minds and are blunt about it? No, Callen, you'll have to do better than that!"

"OK" Callen said, pausing to take a breath before continuing. "For at least 30 years, Hetty has been finding orphaned children, nurturing them and training them to be spies and Federal agents."

Grace smiled as he said this. "And this bothers you, why?" She asked.

"You knew?" Callen looked confused. Surely Grace couldn't be OK with having been 'harvested' by Hetty, and trained to kill.

"Yeah, of course, and I don't have a problem with it because she probably saved my life. Look, my entire family died in a car crash when I was thirteen. Apparently I was the lucky one as I escaped only with a broken leg and collar bone. I had no one else so I was placed in an orphanage, before being placed in a foster home. I developed a talent for stealing and fraud – credit cards mainly. Anyways, I was arrested several times and eventually got sent to juvie. 'Bout two months later I had a visit from Hetty who offered me a way out..." Grace stopped and ran her fingers through her hair and looked at Callen, who still looked puzzled.

Callen struggled to comprehend how Hetty recruited her orphans and misfits, housed them and tutored them in the art of spy-craft without anyone suspecting. But then of course there was no-one to miss them. He was pretty certain the Government approval for this 'project' and its funding had come from the CIA. Callen thought back to the time he had spent with them; two stints with the Agency, one when he was in his early twenties, and again before he joined NCIS. He knew how unorthodox and ruthless both the CIA – and himself – really could be. He could easily understand how unwanted children were already pre-conditioned to suit Hetty's and the CIA's purposes. Self preservation had taught Callen at an early age to protect himself, not to trust anyone and he could only ever remember being naturally suspicious of others motives. Callen recalled the memory of his mother being killed in front of him on the Romanian beach. An action which had been at least partly facilitated by the CIA themselves, as they had given the command to Hetty to abort the mission to rescue their agent and her two young children. Collectively, they were responsible for his mother's execution, his forced separation from his sister, and his lonely and desperate upbringing. Therefore by association, they had conditioned him into becoming the agent and man he was today.

"How many years ago was this?" he asked, shaking his head slowly, hiding the anger he could feel building inside him.

"Hhhmm, 'bout twenty four, twenty five." She said.

Callen did the maths. Grace's file said she was forty, and everything she'd said so far matched the records Eric had obtained. However if all this was true, then Grace would most likely have known Lauren Hunter, and maybe Sullivan. After Hunter's murder, Hetty had admitted she had known Hunter for nearly thirty years and she'd also been found in an orphanage. "So you knew Lauren Hunter?" he finally said.

"Yes I did. Lauren had been with Hetty for years before I got there." Grace said, a smile spreading over her face as she recalled the memories. "We fought like wild-cats. Lauren was so jealous that Hetty had found me and was paying me more attention than her. Not that I ever used that to my advantage, of course." Grace glanced slyly at Callen, who smiled just as he was supposed to.

From what he had known of Hunter, he could imagine the trouble that would have sparked between the two girls. This still wasn't really answering his many questions he thought, and he ploughed on. "So how many other children were there?"

"Well I was only with Hetty for four years" Grace pondered. "So I don't know how many she's saved, but I would guess maybe twenty." She watched as Callen raised one eyebrow. "There were some younger girls, early and pre-teens, and another one about the same age as me and Lauren."

"But she never had any boys" Callen interrupted, wondering if that was why...

Before he could continue with his train of thought, Grace added "Yes she did. There was a boy John, John Sullivan who left just as I arrived, and another couple of younger boys. It's still a wonder that she managed to..." Grace struggled for the right word, "...control all of us."

"And you were all orphans?" Callen said, his temper starting to surface as the latest batch of information about Hetty mixed together with his already conspiratorial thoughts on the CIA. Grace nodded as Callen continued. "So Hetty took unwanted kids from orphanages. In her own words, the type of children that could slip through the cracks if no one was there to catch them." The sarcasm was apparent as Callen's voice rose in anger. "These are kids that have never known hope, love, and safety, that are used to surviving on their own wits, never trusting anyone but themselves. Kids most likely already used and abused, and Hetty uses them for her own ends."

"No, Hetty offered us care, love and a home. She gave us stability and structure. She showed us how we could take everything we had learned in life and use it to better ourselves and the world around us." Grace witnessed the mixture of emotions that crossed Callen's face. She had put his earlier confusion down to him not understanding Hetty as well as she did. But as she had talked and then listened to his latest outburst, she had seen Callen's confusion turn briefly to pain before settling on anger. She figured he must have some vested interest in this subject, and decided to gamble and go for the jugular.

"You're one too!" Grace declared softly. "But you're pissed that Hetty didn't rescue you, and that you never had a proper home with her."

Her statement had hit home as intended. Callen rubbed his hands over his head before looking up a Grace. He thrust a hand in his pocket and pulled out a wad of bills, peeling off a few as he stood up. He threw the money on the table, shook his head and walked off.

"Wait!" Grace shouted as she chased after him. "Wait up." She caught up and placed a firm hand on his right arm.

"Why?" Callen stopped and spun around to face her. "You think you've got me sussed. You know nothing. Leave me alone." He angrily shook her arm away and made to move off again.

Grace moved in front of him. "Then tell me. What bit did I get wrong, coz I think I'm bloody close to the mark." Grace's eyes blazed as she met Callen's anger with her own.

"You really want to know?" Callen asked, his voice rising in line with his emotions. "Well, Hetty was instrumental in me becoming an orphan in the first place. And she knew where I was from an early age, yet I only met her ten years ago, when she first tried to recruit me to NCIS." He sighed deeply, finally having verbalised the thoughts which had been casting a shadow across his mind. Grace stood still in front of him, unsure whether he had more to reveal. Callen continued, "I was in thirty seven foster homes Grace. Every one of them Hetty was responsible for getting me in, as apparently she was determined to find me a family." The sarcasm again was evident. "When Hetty told me this – which was only two years ago – she said I was a 'challenging child', so does that mean that it's my fault that I couldn't find a new family? Thirty seven homes, between the ages of five and eighteen, and my longest stay was three months. What does that say about me? Or maybe I should ask what the hell that says about Hetty?" Callen stopped abruptly, not sure he should really continue with his rant. Scared as to what deep and dark thoughts he might inadvertently reveal.

Grace looked at Callen. He looked tired and bitterly angry, a far cry from the tightly controlled man from earlier. There was so much more than just the jealousy issues she first thought he had, and she wondered how long this resentment had been festering inside him. Grace again placed her hand on Callen's arm, gently this time.

"Callen," she said calmly. "When you said what does that say about Hetty, what do you actually mean?"

"Nothing, it doesn't matter." Callen said sullenly, trying unsuccessfully this time, to pull away from Grace.

"Well clearly it does." Grace linked her arm tightly with his and slowly dragged him through across the boardwalk and through the car park to the sandy beach. They strolled quietly for a few minutes, before stopping. "Sit," Grace ordered.

Callen stared at her and shook his head as he dropped to his knees on the beach. He remembered the last time he was on a sandy beach and about to recall his past. He doubted there would be any disturbing flashbacks this time. Venice was Venice, and nothing he saw here had ever disturbed him. But maybe that was disturbing in itself?

"So, explain yourself." Grace sat down beside him.

Callen still hesitated. To give voice to some of his deepest thoughts, and possibly some of his darkest secrets was alien to him. He had blanked so much from his mind without even realising, and plenty of his other experiences he had consciously locked away in the darkest recesses of his memory. Since childhood, he had bluffed his way though psychiatric evaluations; social workers had either been met with a wall of silence, or an elaborate concoction of lies only he himself could untangle. During his stints at various Federal agencies, he had played the game and given the 'right' answers which would enable him to continue with his job. Not one psychiatrist had been able to deny him the right to work, as no-one had ever penetrated his natural defences; the walls he had constructed so diligently as a child. And here was Grace, who from her file, had experienced a lot more than she had told him, and she was about to poke away at a small chink in his armour. Callen took a deep breath, and exhaled slowly.

"Hetty said she was responsible for finding me all my foster homes." Callen stopped and looked to the horizon. "About half of them were abusive, and I know for a fact some of it had been going on for years before I got there." Callen this time chose his words carefully, sounding out each one for emphasis. "Hetty deliberately placed me in homes where I would be lonely, beaten, verbally abused, bullied and...and what I saw and experienced..." He stood up and looked down at Grace before continuing. "Hetty rescued you, Hunter, Sullivan, those other kids. But she left me." Callen's anger had now subsided and been replaced with bitterness.

"But surely you can see that when Hetty realised what was happening, she removed you from danger and placed you elsewhere." Grace attempted to reassure Callen, knowing this rationale must already have played out in his mind. "And what about the rest of your time as a kid?" She asked.

Callen stared at Grace as blankly. "What do you mean?" He asked.

"I mean the number of homes you were in, the length of time in the system and the longest stay was three months? I'm not stupid and I'm good at maths." Grace was sure she was taking a chance, and hoped she wasn't backing Callen into a corner.

"You know..." Callen shrugged and walked a few paces towards the sea.

"Yeah, I know," Grace said softly, joining Callen in gazing at the nearly set sun. "I know what I did, what happened to me. What's your story?"

"No one knows this – oh, I'm sure Hetty must – but no one else." Callen appealed to Grace with an earnest look and piercing blue eyes. Grace nodded slowly, realising the significance of this moment to Callen.

"It's OK, I won't tell a soul" Grace reassured him and held his gaze.

"I, er, I ran away from some of the homes, lived rough and I, er," Callen found the next bit the hardest to admit. After all he'd taken a vow many years ago to uphold the law and as he struggled to admit to his past activities, the words almost stuck in his throat. "Got into a bit of trouble."

"There, that wasn't so bad was it?" Grace smiled at Callen, who just stared back having not really revealed anything. "We all have our demons, and I'm not going to cross examine you."

Callen really couldn't believe why he was allowing Grace inside his head. "But it still doesn't explain why Hetty wouldn't remove me from those homes like she did with you and the others." This was it, the crux of the matter. Callen's feelings of not being wanted or belonging rarely surfaced nowadays, but Hetty's revelation had meant she had chosen not to save him, chosen to abandon him.

"Maybe she was trying to protect you in some way." Grace chewed her bottom lip as she recalled the beginning of Callen's outpouring. "Why do you think Hetty was responsible for you becoming an orphan?"

Damn, thought Callen, did I really say that? This was why he kept his private thoughts and emotions permanently in check.

"Hetty and my mother were CIA and she was supposed to meet my mom at a beach, and provide safe passage to America for her, me and my sister. The CIA called off the mission at the last minute and my mom was executed in front of me." There, he'd said it. And it didn't make him feel any better. At least he knew now the shrinks were wrong. Talking didn't help at all.

"But that doesn't mean that that Hetty made you an orphan!" Grace stared at Callen in amazement. With this latest revelation she wasn't surprised that Callen had all these twisted thoughts galloping through his mind. Earlier observations throughout the day had shown Callen to be pretty much the same as her; bit of a loner, strong and independent, and crap at relationships. "It was the CIA that ordered Hetty to abort, not Hetty herself. And you said she kept an eye on you, presumably from a distance. Maybe your mom's killer would have targeted you and your sister if they found you? And if Hetty couldn't have a 'hands-on' approach with you, she at least moved you to new foster homes as soon as she realised there was trouble. And finally, if you only met Hetty ten years ago, that tells me that you managed to find your own way in this world, the right way."

"Wow, that's quite a speech Grace. Think you need to spend some time with Nate and maybe Sam. You could then all analyse me to your heart's content...without me being around."

"Is sarcasm your answer to everything?" Grace asked in despair, beginning to wonder if Callen would ever stopped wallowing in self pity that evening.

"Nope, just most things." Callen replied and tried to vaguely lighten the situation. "It's just..." Callen couldn't continue. He could understand the rationale Grace was placing on Hetty's actions concerning him. But only Callen knew what he'd been through as a child. Or maybe Hetty did too, as she had known he had witnessed his mother's murder and that he had a sister. He had never even had those memories until a few years ago. The dark side of his mind was still wrestling over whether Hetty had known what he had endured in the homes and as a teenager, and had deliberately left him there. She must have known, he thought, maybe that was how Hetty trained a few of her select orphans. Allowing them to be broken, and then observing how they built themselves back up, if they could. Despite everything Grace had tried to rationalise, Callen found that the bottom line was he no longer trusted Hetty.

As he realised this, he walked off without looking back at Grace, saying "I gotta go."

Grace stood there and watched him go. Complicated was something she did very well, so she looked up at the heavens, sighed heavily and followed him.

"Hey," she called out. Callen ignored her and kept walking.

Bloody hell you are making this difficult, she thought. Hetty must have been euphemistic when she told Callen he was a 'challenging child'. 'Pig-headed' and 'brat' were two words which were floating round her mind at that precise moment. Yet again, she jogged after him.

"Callen I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to upset you" she apologised.

"It's fine, forget about it" Callen replied as he continued walking without looking at her.

Grace remained silent and kept pace with him, as Callen marched toward the Boardwalk. They remained silent for a further five minutes until they reached Callen's car. He pulled out the key fob and unlocked the doors.

"Well?" He asked Grace pointedly.

"Well what," Grace responded innocently.

"Well get in." Callen really didn't know where this was going, and didn't particularly care. "I can drop you somewhere..."

"You can drop me somewhere," repeated Grace. "The mood you're in you'll probably drop me off a short pier!"

"Maybe, the sharks are probably getting a bit hungry by now." Callen took a long slow look at Grace, and gave a half smile.

"Is that meant to be an apology?" Grace guessed. "Coz it sounds more like a plan for murder!"

"It is what it is" Callen replied cryptically.

"Now about crashing at yours...You got a spare sleeping bag? It's been all of eleven months since I last had to sleep on a floor." Grace stared at Callen across the top of the car.

Callen replied. "You can have my sleeping bag and bed roll; I'll sleep in the easy chair." And with a smirk he opened the car door and got in.

Grace shook her head in despair and climbed in the passenger seat as Callen started the engine. There was definitely no hope for him, she thought, but whatever she'd screwed up with him earlier was already undone, although not forgotten. Neither of them had survived this long without being able to quickly adapt to situations. Her only fear now was for the future relationship of Callen and Hetty. It would only be a matter of time before they came to blows again.