The Empty glass of truth

Chapter 5

Deeks watched as his mother and brother were finally reunited.

He had a small smile on his face as he saw the happiness he had always longed to see in his mother's face. Kensi and Sam stood beside him, shock on both their faces while Hetty just smiled.

"So…you and Callen?" Sam said quietly not wanting to interfere with the reunion.

"Yeah, apparently, he's my brother." Deeks confirmed.

"Did you know?" Kensi asked.

Deeks gave her a dark look. "You think I'm kept in the loop…" he looked at his mother, tears of happiness streaming down her cheeks talking to her son in a language that Deeks didn't even know she knew.

Suddenly and overwhelming and irrational jealousy overcame him, he suddenly knew why his father used to get to mad at her. "I get it now." He said softly.

Clara wiped her eyes and turned looking for her other son. "Martin…" she stopped at the look on his face, in that moment he looked just like Gordon.

"M…Martin?" she stammered getting up and stepping away from Callen instinctively putting herself between her sons.

"Don't…You lied to me, I love you mom, I always have, but I get it now…you had me believing that Dad was wrong, but what if he was right…"

"You think your father was right?" she looked stunned as did the others looking at the change in Deeks.

Even Hetty who knew the full story about Deeks' father was stunned.

"Mr. Deeks?"

"That's not my name….Is is 'mother'?" He snarled. "What am I…a Callen too? Are the Comescu's after me as well, or does being a Brandel exempt me from your little blood feud?"

"Marty!" Kensi gasped.

"Well you have your precious son back now, so you gonna….?" Deeks was shaking, he didn't know if it was fear or anger his father was running through his head.

"One day son….you'll see, you'll see you're a replacement as well, she'll find better and she'll never let you live down how you are a replacement. I was a replacement for her beloved Nikolai, I was never good enough, and you, you little snot, you'll see…one day your precious mother will look at someone just like she looks at you and she'll turn on you and treat you just the way I do." Gordon Brandel snarled at his eight year old son as he backhanded him around the head.

Deeks flinched as the memory assaulted him.

Clara recognizing the action for what it was walked up to her son who was shaking and wrapped her arms around him.

"He was wrong Martin…He was oh so wrong…You are still my precious baby, nothing will change that. I have room in my heart for both of you."

Clara gently moved him back into her room, sitting him on the bed and holding him making shushing noises as Callen and Hetty watched on.

Callen had looked at Sam and Kensi and shook his head as they led Deeks back into Clara's room. "Go, get something to eat, get some rest, we'll fill you in tomorrow." He said.

"Take care of him," Kensi said looking at Deeks and his mother, Callen's mother, their mother…she shook her head trying to get it all straight.

Callen nodded his assent and watched them as they left then turned back to his mother and brother.

After about five minutes Deeks started to relax, "Mom…Oh God, mom…I….!" He looked totally distraught.

"It's ok, you seemed to have been holding this in a while, was it…was it him?" she asked.

Deeks nodded not trusting his voice to betray him.

"Him?" Hetty asked.

Clara and Deeks looked over to the smaller woman, "His father." Clara clarified.

"I read your file when you were shot, I know about Brandel." Hetty told Clara.

Clara looked pale, she turned to her youngest son, "You told her! You trust her enough to tell her?" she asked incredulously.

Deeks paled and backed up to the wall, "God, NO!" he realized what he had just said as Hetty looked at him strangely, "I…I mean I told her some, but not…not that!"

Callen looked at his little brother and saw a look her recognized. "Don't…" He said to Hetty, "Don't push him on this."

Deeks looked at Callen, he had a new brother and already he was protecting him, "Why…Why do you care? I mean, you've just found out you're my brother and you are trying to protect me from Hetty. GOD! I'm sick of all these secrets," he sank into the chair his head in his hands.

"Look, Marty…it is a lot to process I know, but I am your brother and I want to be, I really do. But I've seen that look before and…" Callen started before he was cut off by Marty.

"But I'm broken and not good enough to be your brother, I get it Callen. I've been waiting for it for years, Dad told me that one day she'd find someone better than me," He tensed up waiting for Callen to hit him.

As Callen put his hand on his shoulder Deeks jumped and tensed. Knowing what that was Callen stepped back shocked. "I'm not going to hurt you Marty, ever…you got that?" He said.

Deeks opened one eye.

"I told you my son, your father lied,"

"Mom, what happened?" Callen asked sitting on one of the comfy chairs in the room, "I mean tell us, how did you get out of Romania and meet up with Brandel?"

Clara looked at her boys and got comfortable.

"I was on the beach, Amelia was playing football with some friends and you were nearby building sandcastles. I had called the CIA for an extraction, your father had been betrayed by the Comescu's and was sent to a labor camp in Siberia. They were looking for us and we had to get out separately. Your father's handler turned up, he had seen some of the Comescu's watching us from the house near the beach. His way of making contact with me was to give you a toy. I think it was a soldier, maybe a lead or tin one…I don't remember." She looked away as she tried to think.

"I remember it…" Callen mused.

"Anyway, he was supposed to shoot me in the chest, but they were watching so he shot me in the head, but the bullets were blank, and from the angle the others were at it looked like a direct head shot, but one caught me on the temple, I passed out, which was good for the extraction, but I lost track of you and your sister." Clara allowed a small tear to fall at the memory.

"They took me, but when I woke up in hospital a woman told me that Henrietta who was supposed to collect you had been called back and you both were dead."

"I saw them shoot you…" Callen said in a small voice staring at his hands.

Clara's hand flew to her face, "No! You were supposed to be distracted, you were supposed to go with Hetty and we would have met up in America."

"I don't know how we got to America, I didn't know much of anything," Callen admitted, "I didn't know my own first name until you told me today…So I'm Grisha Callen?" he asked.

Clara shook her head. "Grisha Alexsandr Callen-Resnikov."

Callen grinned, "That's a mouthful." He smiled, finally he had a name.

For a few moments he sat there running the name around in his head, seeing how it fitted.

"After a year or two, I found myself in Los Angeles, I worked in a bar and I met Gordon John Brandel, Martin's father." She said, Deeks looked up at this. "He was cute, charming and funny…for a while. He made me relax and for the first time made me laugh." Clara looked sad.

"He was working, he was as far from the CIA and KGB as I could get."

"KGB?" Hetty, Callen and Deeks all asked at the same time.

Clara smiled, "Your father was a Major in the KGB in Russia." She admitted. "Anyway, John…He hated being called Gordon, worked in construction, he was good with his hands."

Deeks flinched at the statement.

"He married me in 1977 when I became pregnant with the twins."

"Twins?" Both Hetty and Callen were surprised at that.

"Martin and Sara his sister." Clara said.

Deeks looked up, this was the thing his mother had been talking about when she told him not to tell, so why was she telling now. Sara had been their secret.

"You have a sister! I have a sister?" Callen asked.

Deeks gave a sad laugh, "We have a lot more in common than you think. Had…we had a sister." He got up and walked away to the window trying to control his emotions.

"I had postpartum depression, I missed my other babies, and John knew as will I missed Nikolai as well. He knew that they held a place in my heart and he couldn't handle it." Clara explained moving and holding Deeks' hand.

"He lost his job and started drinking, just one or two at first, and then he'd double it, saying it was good for him, then he lost his driving license in an accident and couldn't work again for a while."

Deeks sighed and held on tighter his eyes burning with unshed tears, he desperately held them in.

"When Martin and Sara were eleven, he came home from work; I had to go to the grocery store. John had been beating on Martin for about 2 years when I was out, so I tried to go out when he wasn't there. He never laid a hand on Sara, Martin always protected her. But today he'd been surprised by John coming home early. He was drunk and angry as some men were at the door asking for money and Martin had answered it. Pushing them off the property he'd gone inside and started on Martin. He been hitting him for an hour when Sara and I got back from shopping. Martin was a bloody mess in the corner, I lost it and started attacking his father, John got a sharp punch in and I hit my head on the cabinet, Sara tried to protect us both and he turned on her. He knocked her to the ground and beat her and kicked her. Martin woke up and shot him in the shoulder to get him off her."

Deeks looked at the ground and let his tears fall silently.

"The police turned up and took John away, Sara…they got her to the hospital, but it was too late, he had broken a rib, it punctured her heart. She died in the ambulance on the way there." She cried quietly too for her lost baby, she held Deeks as the other two looked on dumbfounded.

"But Clara, you were CIA trained; why…Why if he was hurting your children did you stay." Hetty asked.

"I am Roma, my father was American and the CIA trained me, but I lost all my documents, John knew this, he threatened to have me sent back to Romania, back to the Comescu's, and keep my children…I had to put up with it, I was trying to save them, I had already lost two children and the love of my life, I couldn't do it again."

Hetty watched as Clara cried, remembering her daughter as both her sons stood either side of her holding her tightly. Poor Clara, losing both her daughters at eleven. She hoped that this would help her ease some of the pain she was feeling, that hopefully now they were talking both Clara and her boys would be able to find some sort of common ground and come out somewhat whole.

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