Fairytale of LA

Chapter 11

The man looked at Sam and Hetty and nodded.

"Hetty." He said.

"Mongoose, or should I call you Gavril Comescu." She said warily, "No wonder Alexia knew so much about Mr. Callen's family."

"My sister was nothing if not tenacious." Gavril replied.

He nodded as Sam Gasped "You're a Comescu?"

Callen moaned in his sleep, "Nell!" he called and fell fitfully asleep as Gavril stroked his head, "E Sigur" he said and Callen relaxed.

"What did you just tell him," Sam asked warily.

"Just that she was safe." Gavril replied

"Can you come with us?" Hetty asked; Gavril looked worriedly at his son. Then he nodded and followed Hetty into the waiting room.

Kensi and Deeks looked up at the man who walked in with Hetty.

Kensi gasped as she saw his eyes, "You're him aren't you."

Gavril grinned at her and Hetty "Am I going to get this a lot?" He asked and gave her Callen's trademark smirk.

"I'm afraid so." Hetty said.

"Guys, "Sam interrupted, "We need to do this before G wakes up."

"Kensi Blye, Marty Deeks and Nell Jones, This is Mr. Callen's father, Gavril Comescu!"

There were stunned looks passed around the team members.

"I need to explain things to my son before I tell you," Gavril said, "But for a while I am here." His thick Romanian accent was strange considering he looked like an older Callen.

He looked at Nell though, "Nell Jones," He took her hand and kissed it; "I know my son will be glad you are safe" Nell blushed and smiled at him. Ignoring the enquiring looks the others sent her way.

Hetty looked at Gavril, "Is it over," She asked him.

"It is...I hope." He confirmed, "I'm not sure how safe it will be for me to stay, but I intend to fill my son in on the blanks, where I can, while I can."

Callen stirred, His first thought was Nell, he remembered seeing her tied up to a chair in the theatre and Korolyov and then gunfire.

"NELL!" He yelled, thinking he was still there and she had been hit, outside all their head snapped up hearing the yell and Nell shot out of her chair and ran into Callen's room, followed by the others.

"G, it's ok, you're safe, and I'm here." She held his hand

"You're ok." He looked into her eyes and smiled.

"We are all fine." Sam said.

Callen looked around at them all. He couldn't understand why they all seemed so happy. Then his eyes stopped on a set of eyes that looked like his.

"Tata?" he said under his breath.

The old man smiled, Callen looked at him scared to blink or move.

His eyes shot from the man to Hetty silently pleading for some time alone.

Hetty ushered the others out, "I think Mr. Callen needs some time with his father." She said. She walked up to Callen and put her hand on his shoulder. "We will be right outside, its ok, take your time."

She left and Callen just looked to the man he's been searching for all his life.

Tears stung his eyes and every question he had ever had ran through his brain so fast he actually thought his brain might explode.

Then the most important question he'd ever had made its way out of his mouth, "Who am I?" knowing this time he had to get an answer.

"What do you mean?" Gavril asked his son.

"My name...please, what's my name?" Callen asked.

Gavril sat beside his son, He tried to reach over to hold his hand but Callen flinched.

"Your birth name is Grigore Callen Comescu."

Callen blinked, a Comescu? NO! Of all the things he could have learned about himself, this was not on his list....and he had a long, 'what if' list.

"You're lying...I'm not one of them!" He argued shaking his head.

"My name is Gavril Comescu, I am your father." He said quietly

Callen's breathing quickened while he took in this new information, a year ago he had stormed into the Comescu compound and killed the people who murdered his mother and they were his family too, but they had wanted him dead.

He shakily took a drink of water while trying to process this. "D...does Hetty know?" He asked.

Gavril nodded, "I told her not to tell you. It wasn't safe for you to know."

"Why didn't you come get us...was it my fault, because I am a Callen?" he asked quietly.

"God, Grigore, No!" Gavril looked sad, "I need to explain from the beginning."

Callen nodded then and waited, "I've waited all my life so now would be a good time to start." He said flatly.

"I was tasked with killing your mother, by my father in the early 1960's, I found her and your grandfather in America, my cousin killed your grandfather, I fell in love with your mother and we ended up running away together."

Callen sat silently waiting for the old man to go on.

"Clara was a beautiful woman, I loved her very much, and I gave up my family for her. We were married in 1965, not long after that your sister Amelia was born we were happy, The CIA had helped hide us. We hid in Europe under the alias Reznikov. You know your mother and your grandfather were both agents, your grandfather was OSS and your mother was CIA?"

Callen nodded that much he already knew.

"Then you were born in 1970 and our family was complete." He smiled at the memory

"Then in the summer of 74, the CIA received word that my father died. We felt it was safe to go home, I reconnected with my sister Alexia, and we stayed for a few weeks, then the CIA found out it was all a sham, Alexia had decided to continue with the blood feud, She had Clara killed. I had you children smuggled out with Hetty and taken to America, where I hoped to join you, we gave you your mother's maiden name to help hide you from them and so I could find you."

"So why didn't you." Callen asked not meeting his eyes.

"Alexia, she has been hunting me for years, trying to get to you and Amelia." Gavril replied. "She had me arrested under my alias and had me thrown into a Russian Gulag under espionage charges."

"I found the book; you've been watching us though." Callen stated,

"I didn't realize that Miss Lawson wasn't Amelia until you found her, it broke my heart to find out she had died as a child."

"Why didn't you save me...? Did you even care about some of those 'people' I was with?" Callen spat out anger evident on his face, remembering some of the truly terrible foster homes he'd been forced to endure.

"You were alive," He replied simply, "With me you would be dead."

Gavril stared at his son, He knew this wouldn't be easy on him, he'd always known that Callen had endured more than most kids should. But the only thing he had to fall back on was the fact that had Callen been with him he would have been easier to track and they would have both been dead and Alexia would have won.

"When I first tried to kill myself, when I was 14, you sent that flower?" Callen look up.

"Yes, I couldn't get in touch, but I wanted you to know you were loved, I had hoped you wouldn't try again."

"Never really did." Callen admitted, "Every time after that I figured it was safe if I called someone to come save me first and it was a way to be close to you."

"What if you hadn't been rescued?" Gavril asked worriedly

"I always called Hetty, She's always saved me...I never realized how true that was until recently" Callen smiled.

"She was your mothers' handler at CIA; you know she's your Godmother?" Gavril said.

Callen eyes shot up at that, "No!" He smiled so his team really were his family.

Gavril smiled at his son, "I like Nell, and she has eyes like your mother."

Callen actually blushed, "I just work with her," He protested.

Gavril smirked and Callens eyes widened, it really was like looking in a mirror.

"Te lubesc Tatal," Callen said quietly.

"Te lubesc prea fiul" Gavril said and hugged him, Callen flinched a little but tears ran down his face as he finally had physical contact with his father.

Gavril turned to go out of the room, "Are you leaving me?" Callen asked him

"No son, I'm just going to get the rest of your team, I said if you wish we could fill them in on what has happened. But I need to give you this." He said taking a photo out of his pocket and handing it to his son.

As Gavril left Callen looked down at the photograph in his hands, it was his mother and father, Amy and Callen as a baby. They were all smiling and happy.

Callen traced his finger over the picture committing their faces to his memory. A single tear left his eye, and he smiled.

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