NaNo #19 Knowing (NCIS:LA)
Nov. 19th, 2011 11:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
miss_lucy21Ok, so this is part of the same fic from November 9 (Protective) and actually comes before that part. This is one fic that I'm going to stitch together (and there will likely be more of it, at least one more part) once NaNo is over.
:::
"Hanna", Sam muttered into his cell phone when it rang at 2:07 am.
"Sam?" G's voice sounded extremely shaky.
"G? What's wrong?" Sam said, getting out of bed and grabbing his jeans.
"She knew my mom. She knew what happened to her," G said.
"G, you're not making sense," Sam said, shoving his feet into his shoes and grabbing his wallet and keys.
"I don't..." G trailed off.
"Where are you?" Sam asked, when G didn't say more.
"House," G said, still sounding dazed.
"Are you hurt?" Sam asked as he stepped out of the house. "Did you get into an accident?"
"No..." G said.
"Ok, I'm coming to you, ok?" Sam said, getting in the car. "Don't go anywhere. Stay put, you hear me?"
"Yeah," G said.
"Let me hear it," Sam said. "What'd I tell you to do?"
"Stay put," G replied.
"Good. I'm in the car. I will be there as soon as I can, ok. Hang tight," Sam said.
"Ok," G said. The next thing Sam heard was the beep that told him G had hung up. He swore under his breath and gunned the accelerator. G's house wasn't terribly far from his house and the traffic was fairly light.
The lights were out when Sam arrived, but G's car was in the driveway. It didn't look damaged, so he had apparently not been in an accident. Sam dialed G's number as he approached the door. If G was feeling a little more hyper-vigilant than usual, he didn't want to get shot when he unlocked the door.
"Sam?" G answered.
"I'm here, I'm gonna let myself in, ok?" Sam said.
"Ok," G said.
Sam unlocked the door and hung up the phone. "Hey," he said, seeing G standing in the middle of his darkened living room. "Something wrong with the light?"
"What?" G said, frowning at him.
"Why are you standing in the dark?" Sam asked.
"I don't know," G admitted. He still sounded really shaky.
"I'm gonna turn the lamp on, ok?" Sam asked. G nodded, so he flipped the switch. G was pale and shaky as he squinted at the light. "Come on, let's sit down, huh?" he said.
"Ok," G said. He let Sam steer him toward the chair. "Sorry," he whispered.
"Don't be," Sam said. He crouched down in front of G and picked up one of his hands to check his pulse. He noticed the marks on G's hands from his boxing gloves. "How many rounds did you go with the heavy bag?" he asked.
"Don't know," G said.
"Did you eat anything?" Sam asked. Ordinarily, that wasn't a concern- G almost never forgot to eat. But today was clearly not an ordinary day, and G certainly looked like someone with low blood sugar.
G looked like he was trying to remember. "I don't know," he admitted.
Sam sighed. "Sit there," he said. He got up to investigate G's kitchen, hoping there was something reasonable in it. It wasn't like G cooked. Thankfully, there was Gatorade in the fridge and a couple packets of saltines leftover from takeout in the cupboard. "Drink" he said, opening the bottle of Gatorade and handing it to G. "Slowly. You don't need to be puking tonight." He sat down on the floor in front of the chair and unlaced G's shoes and pulled them off.
G sipped the Gatorade slowly. Sam watched him closely and was relieved when G started looking a little less vague and a little more focused as he drank. "Here," Sam said after a couple of minutes as he handed G a packet of crackers. G ate them without protesting. "Good. Feel better?" he asked, reaching up to rub G's knee.
"Little," G admitted.
"Good," Sam said. "What's up?"
"She knew my mom and never told me," G said, softly in a wounded sounding voice.
"Ok, back up," Sam said. "Who's she?"
"Hetty," G said.
"You went to talk with Hetty?" Sam asked.
"No. She's back. Hunter's gone," G said.
"Ok, wait," Sam said. "Let's start at the beginning. You were still at Ops when I left, right?"
"Yeah," G said.
"But Hunter left?" Sam asked.
"The girlfriend we chased after all day. She was setting up a cover," G said.
Sam shook his head. That didn't make much sense, either, but he was going to set that one aside for now. "Ok. So, you were at Ops and Hetty came in?"
G nodded. "Yeah."
"And she told you she knew your mom," Sam said.
"Yeah," G nodded.
"How?" Sam asked, tamping back a flare of anger. This was not the time.
"My mom was in the CIA," G replied.
Sam blinked. "Huh."
"Yeah," G said. He scrubbed a hand over his face. "She went off the grid. Was trying to get back. Hetty got the order to abort right before the meet."
"Hetty was meeting your mom on the beach," Sam surmised.
"Yeah," G agreed.
"And you were with your mom." Sam said. G just nodded. "Well, at least you know it was real."
G gave a tired sounding laugh. "Yeah." He was quiet for a moment. "I don't wanna think anymore," he said, giving Sam a desperate look.
"Ok, buddy, ok," Sam said, kneeling up and gathering G close to his shoulder. He glanced at his watch. It was much too late at night to give G anything if he wanted to be functional in the morning. "You want to be at work in the morning?" he asked, just in case.
G nodded against his shoulder. "I have to. Even if nothing comes up, Hetty's going to have a lot to catch up on and a lot of it is stuff she's going to need me for."
"Ok," Sam said, gently working at the knots in G's neck. He rubbed soothing circles against the tight muscles as he thought for a minute. Sex was off the menu tonight- he wasn't in the mood after this, and he knew G sure as hell wasn't. So he was going to have to do this the hard way. He moved his hand down further until he came to the knot in G's back that would not release, no matter how much work was done on it. Sam usually avoided it, because he knew it hurt like hell, but tonight that's what he was looking for. He dug two knuckles into the center of the knot and held them there.
"Breathe, G. Don't pass out on me," Sam warned after a few moments when he realized G was holding his breath. G gasped out a sobbing breath, and Sam held the pressure for another 10 count and then released it. "You with me?" he asked as G panted against his shoulder.
"Yeah," G said, breathlessly.
"Good," Sam said, going back to rubbing G's neck. He gave it a minute, then eased G back so he could see his face. His eyes were slightly unfocused, but he didn't have the same look of desperation that he'd had a few minutes ago. "That slow things down for you?"
"Little bit," G said.
"Enough that you can lie down at least?" Sam asked. G nodded. "Ok, then, let's go do that." He rocked back to his feet and tugged G upright. Most nights, he knew, G still preferred to sleep in his bedroll. But he'd convinced G to actually buy a bed for the nights Sam was over, even if G wouldn't sleep in it full time. He steered G to the larger bedroom with the bed and nudged him towards the bed. "You want me to see what I can do about the rest of those knots?" Sam asked as G lay down.
"Not really," G said.
"Ok," Sam said. "What're you reading this week?" Most people didn't know that G was the biggest supporter of the LA public library that Sam had ever met. He was mostly self-educated, and he'd kept the reading habit because it was useful in building covers.
"'s in the other room," G mumbled, rubbing his forehead.
"Ok," Sam said. "Be right back." He went into the living room and found the book sitting by the chair. He went and got a glass of water and the bottle of aspirin from the kitchen before going back to the bedroom. "Moneyball?" he asked, dropping the book on the bed and handing the water to G, who struggled to sit up. "You gonna build a cover as a sabremetrics guy?"
"No," G said, accepting the aspirin that Sam held out. "Can't fake the math. But it's interesting."
"Ah," Sam said. "That's too bad. I could see you as a minor league scout or something." G snorted at that as he set the water down on the floor and laid back down. Sam sat against the headboard and let G get himself settled before he opened the book and started reading aloud. He'd discovered over this summer that G had (unsurprisingly) rarely been read to as a kid, but that he'd really liked it when it had happened. Since Sam had been casting around for something- anything- to help G calm down, discovering that G found being read to soothing had been something of a life saver.
He read until he saw that G had nodded off. He'd been hoping that G was worn out enough from his bout with the heavy bag that he'd fall asleep if Sam could get him relaxed enough. With any luck, he'd sleep for awhile. Sam scooted down to stretch out and grab another hour or two of sleep himself. He had a conversation to have with a certain Operations Manager in the morning.
:::
"Hanna", Sam muttered into his cell phone when it rang at 2:07 am.
"Sam?" G's voice sounded extremely shaky.
"G? What's wrong?" Sam said, getting out of bed and grabbing his jeans.
"She knew my mom. She knew what happened to her," G said.
"G, you're not making sense," Sam said, shoving his feet into his shoes and grabbing his wallet and keys.
"I don't..." G trailed off.
"Where are you?" Sam asked, when G didn't say more.
"House," G said, still sounding dazed.
"Are you hurt?" Sam asked as he stepped out of the house. "Did you get into an accident?"
"No..." G said.
"Ok, I'm coming to you, ok?" Sam said, getting in the car. "Don't go anywhere. Stay put, you hear me?"
"Yeah," G said.
"Let me hear it," Sam said. "What'd I tell you to do?"
"Stay put," G replied.
"Good. I'm in the car. I will be there as soon as I can, ok. Hang tight," Sam said.
"Ok," G said. The next thing Sam heard was the beep that told him G had hung up. He swore under his breath and gunned the accelerator. G's house wasn't terribly far from his house and the traffic was fairly light.
The lights were out when Sam arrived, but G's car was in the driveway. It didn't look damaged, so he had apparently not been in an accident. Sam dialed G's number as he approached the door. If G was feeling a little more hyper-vigilant than usual, he didn't want to get shot when he unlocked the door.
"Sam?" G answered.
"I'm here, I'm gonna let myself in, ok?" Sam said.
"Ok," G said.
Sam unlocked the door and hung up the phone. "Hey," he said, seeing G standing in the middle of his darkened living room. "Something wrong with the light?"
"What?" G said, frowning at him.
"Why are you standing in the dark?" Sam asked.
"I don't know," G admitted. He still sounded really shaky.
"I'm gonna turn the lamp on, ok?" Sam asked. G nodded, so he flipped the switch. G was pale and shaky as he squinted at the light. "Come on, let's sit down, huh?" he said.
"Ok," G said. He let Sam steer him toward the chair. "Sorry," he whispered.
"Don't be," Sam said. He crouched down in front of G and picked up one of his hands to check his pulse. He noticed the marks on G's hands from his boxing gloves. "How many rounds did you go with the heavy bag?" he asked.
"Don't know," G said.
"Did you eat anything?" Sam asked. Ordinarily, that wasn't a concern- G almost never forgot to eat. But today was clearly not an ordinary day, and G certainly looked like someone with low blood sugar.
G looked like he was trying to remember. "I don't know," he admitted.
Sam sighed. "Sit there," he said. He got up to investigate G's kitchen, hoping there was something reasonable in it. It wasn't like G cooked. Thankfully, there was Gatorade in the fridge and a couple packets of saltines leftover from takeout in the cupboard. "Drink" he said, opening the bottle of Gatorade and handing it to G. "Slowly. You don't need to be puking tonight." He sat down on the floor in front of the chair and unlaced G's shoes and pulled them off.
G sipped the Gatorade slowly. Sam watched him closely and was relieved when G started looking a little less vague and a little more focused as he drank. "Here," Sam said after a couple of minutes as he handed G a packet of crackers. G ate them without protesting. "Good. Feel better?" he asked, reaching up to rub G's knee.
"Little," G admitted.
"Good," Sam said. "What's up?"
"She knew my mom and never told me," G said, softly in a wounded sounding voice.
"Ok, back up," Sam said. "Who's she?"
"Hetty," G said.
"You went to talk with Hetty?" Sam asked.
"No. She's back. Hunter's gone," G said.
"Ok, wait," Sam said. "Let's start at the beginning. You were still at Ops when I left, right?"
"Yeah," G said.
"But Hunter left?" Sam asked.
"The girlfriend we chased after all day. She was setting up a cover," G said.
Sam shook his head. That didn't make much sense, either, but he was going to set that one aside for now. "Ok. So, you were at Ops and Hetty came in?"
G nodded. "Yeah."
"And she told you she knew your mom," Sam said.
"Yeah," G nodded.
"How?" Sam asked, tamping back a flare of anger. This was not the time.
"My mom was in the CIA," G replied.
Sam blinked. "Huh."
"Yeah," G said. He scrubbed a hand over his face. "She went off the grid. Was trying to get back. Hetty got the order to abort right before the meet."
"Hetty was meeting your mom on the beach," Sam surmised.
"Yeah," G agreed.
"And you were with your mom." Sam said. G just nodded. "Well, at least you know it was real."
G gave a tired sounding laugh. "Yeah." He was quiet for a moment. "I don't wanna think anymore," he said, giving Sam a desperate look.
"Ok, buddy, ok," Sam said, kneeling up and gathering G close to his shoulder. He glanced at his watch. It was much too late at night to give G anything if he wanted to be functional in the morning. "You want to be at work in the morning?" he asked, just in case.
G nodded against his shoulder. "I have to. Even if nothing comes up, Hetty's going to have a lot to catch up on and a lot of it is stuff she's going to need me for."
"Ok," Sam said, gently working at the knots in G's neck. He rubbed soothing circles against the tight muscles as he thought for a minute. Sex was off the menu tonight- he wasn't in the mood after this, and he knew G sure as hell wasn't. So he was going to have to do this the hard way. He moved his hand down further until he came to the knot in G's back that would not release, no matter how much work was done on it. Sam usually avoided it, because he knew it hurt like hell, but tonight that's what he was looking for. He dug two knuckles into the center of the knot and held them there.
"Breathe, G. Don't pass out on me," Sam warned after a few moments when he realized G was holding his breath. G gasped out a sobbing breath, and Sam held the pressure for another 10 count and then released it. "You with me?" he asked as G panted against his shoulder.
"Yeah," G said, breathlessly.
"Good," Sam said, going back to rubbing G's neck. He gave it a minute, then eased G back so he could see his face. His eyes were slightly unfocused, but he didn't have the same look of desperation that he'd had a few minutes ago. "That slow things down for you?"
"Little bit," G said.
"Enough that you can lie down at least?" Sam asked. G nodded. "Ok, then, let's go do that." He rocked back to his feet and tugged G upright. Most nights, he knew, G still preferred to sleep in his bedroll. But he'd convinced G to actually buy a bed for the nights Sam was over, even if G wouldn't sleep in it full time. He steered G to the larger bedroom with the bed and nudged him towards the bed. "You want me to see what I can do about the rest of those knots?" Sam asked as G lay down.
"Not really," G said.
"Ok," Sam said. "What're you reading this week?" Most people didn't know that G was the biggest supporter of the LA public library that Sam had ever met. He was mostly self-educated, and he'd kept the reading habit because it was useful in building covers.
"'s in the other room," G mumbled, rubbing his forehead.
"Ok," Sam said. "Be right back." He went into the living room and found the book sitting by the chair. He went and got a glass of water and the bottle of aspirin from the kitchen before going back to the bedroom. "Moneyball?" he asked, dropping the book on the bed and handing the water to G, who struggled to sit up. "You gonna build a cover as a sabremetrics guy?"
"No," G said, accepting the aspirin that Sam held out. "Can't fake the math. But it's interesting."
"Ah," Sam said. "That's too bad. I could see you as a minor league scout or something." G snorted at that as he set the water down on the floor and laid back down. Sam sat against the headboard and let G get himself settled before he opened the book and started reading aloud. He'd discovered over this summer that G had (unsurprisingly) rarely been read to as a kid, but that he'd really liked it when it had happened. Since Sam had been casting around for something- anything- to help G calm down, discovering that G found being read to soothing had been something of a life saver.
He read until he saw that G had nodded off. He'd been hoping that G was worn out enough from his bout with the heavy bag that he'd fall asleep if Sam could get him relaxed enough. With any luck, he'd sleep for awhile. Sam scooted down to stretch out and grab another hour or two of sleep himself. He had a conversation to have with a certain Operations Manager in the morning.
