A/N: Hi! This is my first foray into this particular fandom, so please, feel free to drop comments and tips and whatever you want, okay? Thanks! I'd love the help!

-Blue


G. Callen

10. He doesn't really want to know his first name. He's lived all his life without it—it kind of seems unnecessary now, unneeded.

He's perfectly happy being "G. Callen," no matter what Hetty might say about unresolved pasts and old ghosts, because those ghosts (his sister, his beautiful, brave big sister) hurt and they can just leave him alone, thanks. It takes him a considerably long time to come to terms with this, but still. He does, and he's happy being G. Callen.

9. He was fourteen when he got shot the first time. It wasn't even his fault—it was a rough neighborhood and he was out too late (he was in his rebellious phase) and there was a gang mugging twenty feet down the street, and like an idiot he shouted and they saw him and they shot him, right down his left arm.

It stung like a bastard.

8. He was fourteen when he first got shot, and he will be forty-three when he gets shot the final time.

7. He really, really, really liked Russia. It was his kind of place—dark and mysterious and dirty, a thing that people often underestimated because of its past.

And Gibbs was in Russia and, for the longest time, Callen kind of idolized him, and Russia, Родина-мать, Rodina-mat, the Motherland, could have been home, if it weren't for the goddamn Serbians.

One of them shot him too, the svoloch'.

6. When he arrived at NCIS, he wasn't sure what to expect. Gibbs was NCIS but Gibbs was Gibbs—he was a whole 'nother animal entirely. And he was G. Callen, the ghost, the man who put on masks so easily that he'd forgotten what he looked like, and how the hell was he supposed to work for navy cops?

So he showed up in his typical clothes after a night on a boat, and all of the well-groomed agents looked at him oddly and the lab techs didn't meet his eyes and he was about ready to quit on that first day, fed up with the muttering and the stolen, sneaking glances.

And then he met Henrietta Lange, and the rest, as they say, was history.

5. At first, Sam Hanna pissed him off.

He was loud and domineering and he oozed alpha male. He had that typical SEAL swagger, the pride, and he'd go into long bouts of Arabic cursing when one of the lab techs took too long on a report.

Callen almost quit, those first few months, almost threw in the towel and requested a new partner, even if Hetty shook her head at him like he was killing puppies or something equally unspeakable.

(4.5. He loves puppies.)

And then shit went down and Sam had his back and Callen decided that, just maybe, he'd give the SEAL a chance.

That didn't mean he was going to put up with bossy shit, though. Sam learned this real fast.

4. He didn't care for Dom all that much.

This is something he will regret until he is forty-three and a bullet cuts him from life.

He just didn't know Dom, all that well. The younger agent wasn't real keen on getting to know Callen, not like Sam or Kensi, so Callen didn't bother to get to know him.

He wishes that he did, though.

3. Living in his old house scares Callen.

He falls asleep on the floor and dreams of better days and he aches, because he hears laughter and sees sunshine and chases faceless men through the city because he wants to know goddamn it.

After a week of exhausting dreams, he starts sleeping in the office.

Hetty never says anything, and Callen still keeps the house, if only because he can't let go.

2. He makes the mistake of letting his Team (yes, fucking capitalized, that's what they meant to him) out of his sight only once, because it's dark and they split and he can't see them, and then Hell breaks loose and there are gunshots everywhere.

He lets them out of his sight, and, for the briefest of seconds, he thinks they might be dead.

But then Deeks and Kensi and Sam come bounding out, smiling, and he laughs at them, relieved, shaking.

He's got his eyes on them and he's laughing, and he doesn't hear the click of the gun or see the shadow until it's too late, and there's white heat and then—

1. G. Callen dies smiling.


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