NaNo #29 Tense (NCIS:LA)

[miss_lucy21]

Sam frowned as he watched G zone out for the fifth time that morning. He only did that when he was really, really tired and at the end of his rope and usually only somewhere he felt safe. And right now, Sam wasn't convinced that G felt entirely safe in Ops. Hunter being in charge was not sitting well with either of them, and Sam knew G didn't trust her at all. Sam wasn't sure Hunter trusted G, exactly, either, so the tension was entirely mutual.

It had been a very tense week since they'd returned from Romania. Sam was pretty sure G hadn't relaxed a fraction until they'd found out that Hetty had been transported to Bethesda, where she'd finish recovering until she could be released home to recuperate in LA. He was putting up a good front, now, but Sam knew how to read between the lines, even if no one else currently in the office could.

"Hey, let's go get some lunch," he said, standing up and getting G's attention.

"Ok," G said, shrugging.

When they got in the car, G leaned his head back against the seat and closed his eyes. "Tired?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," G admitted.

"You been sleeping?" Sam hadn't stayed over with G since they'd gotten home. G hadn't been leaving Ops at anything resembling a reasonable time and that usually meant he had paperwork and stuff to do that he preferred to do when no one was around. Sam usually went home in that case.

"No," G sighed, which was an alarm bell for Sam. If G was too tired to give even a token protest, then something was really, really wrong.

"Nightmares? Or just insomnia?" Sam asked.

"Don't know," G said. Sam raised an eyebrow at that and G sighed. "I sort of might be losing time."

"Sort of, might be?" Sam asked. G shrugged. "That's not a good thing."

"I know," G sighed. "Just at home. Not at work," he added, as though that would make it better.

"Still," Sam said. "You still having flashbacks?" G didn't answer for a long moment. "G?" he prompted.

"Yeah," G admitted. "Not at work."

"I don't care whether they're happening at home or at work," Sam said. "I care that they're happening at all."

"I can still work, though," G said.

"I'm not saying you can't," Sam replied. "I'm saying that's not a good thing."

"I know," G admitted.

"Still the beach?" Sam asked.

"Yeah," G said. "Still the beach. I don't even know if it's real."

"Are they getting worse?" Sam asked.

"Maybe," G said. "I don't know."

"Ok," Sam said. "I'm coming home with you tonight."

"You don't have to," G protested weakly.

"Yeah, I think I do," Sam said. "What's my primary responsibility here?"

"You're a Special Agent with the Office of Special Projects for the Naval Criminal Investigative Service," G said, clearly irritated with the question.

Sam rolled his eyes. "My primary responsibility is to *have your back*. Which means I'm staying with you tonight because you need me to."

"Ok," G said, quietly.

"We'll figure it out, G. You don't have to deal with it by yourself, ok?" Sam said.

"I don't think I want to deal with it at all," G said.

"Yeah, I get that," Sam said. "But if you don't, then it's not going to get better." G slumped down in the seat and didn't say anything. "Why don't you close your eyes for awhile?" Sam suggested, when it became clear that G wasn't going to respond.

"Yeah, ok," G sighed.

Sam figured he could drive around for at least another half hour, then run through a drive through on the way back to Ops. That would give G a nap, at least. Then they'd get through the rest of the day and go tackle the bigger problems.