NCIS Short Stories

Callen And Gibbs- Grisha.

"Why didn't you tell me?" I'm yelling. He is looking at me like I am crazy.

"I wasn't allowed."

"When have you ever followed orders?"

"Not often."

We are sitting in a bar just like we promised last time. By we I mean Gibbs and I, G. Callen or my real name being Grisha (that being the point of our argument). So let me catch you up.

Apparently my name is Grisha Aleksandrovih Nikolaev. Now you see I just learned this after years (and by years I mean my whole life) of not knowing and he knew! I mean I have known the guy for years and he never told me.

"I am going to ask you again," I say, my temper rising by the second, "How long have you known?" My voice is a whisper.

"Not to long. Ten-fifteen years," he says nonchalantly.

"That's not long," he looks up for just a second with a sympathetic look on his face, "I don't want sympathy, Gibbs. I want the truth."

"You don't have much experience with that term," he says.

"And you do?"

"More than you," he signals for the bartender and gets another drink.

"How many is that," I ask as a joke.

"Two."

"Still building that same boat?"

"No, got a new one," he gets a far off look. It only last for a second, "I didn't want to tell you because I knew this would happen. He didn't want me to tell you-"

"Who didn't want you to tell me?"

"I don't think you should know."

"You don't think or whoever told you doesn't think I should know," I know I'm yelling now. The bar is close to closing time and the only person left is the bartender who knows Gibbs and knows not to mess with him.

"Grisha!" He stands up and knocks the chair over in the process, "I didn't want you to know. I don't have to explain my intentions to you. I did what I thought was right."

"Well you weren't right," I am in his face now, "You could have told me and prevented the crap I have went through over years and years of torture. You could have-"

"You want to know what I could have done," I see the raw rage in his eyes, "Callen I wanted to tell you on the case years ago but I couldn't. I saw the hope you had," his voice softens just a little, "And I didn't want to destroy it. I knew your family just as well as Hetty does. I knew your father for a short amount of time before he disappeared. I knew your mother before she died. I knew your sister before the drowning. I tried to get her out of that orphanage but I couldn't pull strings fast enough. I tried to get you out of the foster homes but Hetty already had you under her wing. I tried Callen! And I failed!"

"You don't fail," he caught me off guard. He was someone who tried to get me out of the homes. He tried for my sister. He tried for something. He tried.

"Well this time I did!" I hear someone walk in the door. We are still in each other's faces.

"G?" I turn. It's Sam. I look back to Gibbs and he nods.

I walk away, but not before saying, "You could have said."

And when I walk away I hear him ay something, "Good bye, Grisha."