Who am I?
Who am I?
I must be one of the few people on the planet who can honestly say I don't know.
Not because of an accident, although I have been shot a few times, five of them at the same time. However, because I truly do not know.
I grew up alone…Kinda.
I had foster parents some kind and well meaning, that would treat me like a prize to be shown off. Others not so much.
'Look at how wonderful we are we have taken in the poor little orphan boy.' They would say to friends.
I would stand there quiet and unsure of what to say, they were strangers and I knew they only had me for one of three reasons;
The pay check, foster kids were big earners for not much work.
The Kudos, 'The 'Jones' down the street are such wonderful people for taking in and raising unwanted kids, they have so much love.
Alternatively, The Abuse, Sometimes the odd pedophile or child beater would slip through the net and a child like me with no background or family was easy picking.
The rule for them was easy….Stay Alive. Do what they told you and find the quickest and safest way out.
Then I was a marine.
Not a brilliant one, I hated it but it was better than joining a gang, which quite frankly was too much like having a family.
I don't do families.
I did my service to my country and then got out.
Joined the CIA.
I liked the service to my country….I think it's my Country I never knew for certain. Now I'm even less certain which country is mine.
Oh, I know I grew up in the USA at least for as long as I can remember I've been here.
I worked with some low life's.
Having no family and growing up in the system taught me it was easy to be whoever I needed to be, whoever fit the situation.
I was a ghost and was good at it.
I met a man once… He was the closest thing I ever had to family and I was only with him for three weeks on assignment. He never pushed me, just was there, you know…I think, as a father should be. He was a marine as well; he's now a Federal Agent, builds boats in his basement no less.
He makes me smile when I think of him.
I still keep in touch occasionally, he lets me crash at his place when I'm in town and expects nothing from me.
Then I left the company and joined the DEA.
I think I had a case of hero worship.
I wanted to be a Federal Agent like him.
I smile when I think of how many of those therapists that child services made me see would have had a field day with that titbit of information.
I like the work; I wasn't tied down and I could move regularly.
Until I got too good.
They wanted to stick me in an office, run a department; they even went as far as renting me an apartment.
Needless to say, I was gone by the end of the day.
Over the years I have picked up a few languages.
The fact I don't sleep gives me the time to perfect them and they come in handy. I managed to get a job doing security work.
My last job before becoming an agent again was for a Russian.
Arkady, a good man. Even if his businesses were just 'this' side of kosher.
I was running security when I heard of another gangs' deal going down on a ship.
Not forgetting my friend/dad/hero. I called him.
His director set up a sting and on short notice I agreed to go undercover as the gang were Russian and they needed someone on the inside, and heck I owed the old man.
It went off without a hitch the gang were arrested, myself as well, and then I was released to go back to Arkady, or so I thought.
Instead, I was blindsided by a three-foot ninja.
I walked out of lock up had grabbed my bag from the officer who had it and walked straight into this woman.
"Mr. Callen?" She asked,
That was all it took for me to be in shock, I hadn't used Callen in years. Yeah I know it's my name, but I grew up with Boy, kid, you, and a whole load of other name's I'd never use on a child.
Then in the marines, it was grunt, or maggot.
I had adopted a completely new name for my civilian life.
I had a first name and everything, Greg, not to fancy not too formal and it began with G, which I should point out is the only thing I know about my first name.
I had used Gibbs as a surname for a while, it was after all his surname and he had no problem with it, said it sounded right.
So I had joined the CIA as Greg Gibbs.
I had kept it for the DEA as well.
This little ninja knew who I was…she got me intrigued.
She took me to a coffee shop and ordered a pot of tea and some breakfast. Ordering me my favorite breakfast, I would only order on my birthday.
She told me all she knew about me….or so I thought, I didn't know until a lot later that she knew more than she was telling. I'm still not sure she's told me all she knows about me. But she has this file, it has my name on it and one day….one day. I hope she'll show me.
I trust her for now… so I will wait.
Next thing I know I'm eating and she talking to Arkady, in Russian no less!
She's thanking him for employing me and telling him, I now will be working for her!
My instincts kick in, this woman knows too much, it's not safe. I slowly reach for my bag to find she's moved it out of my reach.
When did she move!
She just continues to talk about NCIS and how they are setting up a new branch and they want me.
I think; at that point, my jaw dropped.
No one, EVER, in my entire life has wanted me!
Ok, I collect myself and remember to breathe….and not cry, girls cry.
Not full-grown men.
I work alone for a while as we set up then, Hetty, (The three-foot ninja, wow I never knew how accurate that name was for her.) insisted I have a team.
She brought in a partner, and ex-seal called Sam.
We found a good balance and it works. Although sometimes he tries to parent me in the 'kudos' category.
Nevertheless, it's good he knows when to back off.
We have a girl too, although she's like GI Jane meets Barbie.
We had a kid….Dom…
Now we have a new guy Deeks, he's a bit like me, although younger, he's been in the system, I think he did good out of it and had the one, rare, in it because we actually care type family.
He's a joker, and an LAPD liaison. I think Hetty wants him to become full time in our group.
He's annoying, but I like him.
There's Nate…on and off; he's a psychologist. Nice person but the less said the better….I avoid him at all costs, but only during Psyche Evals, the rest of the time he's ok.
Then there's the Techie Twins.
They live in OPS on the computers, Eric is ok, likes surfing, I don't know him too much and Nell is …Well Nell is like a mini Hetty, I like her….she scares me.
I watch their backs and they watch mine.
Well, as Gibbs said they are my family….I still don't know who I am but I know what I am.
I am loved.