Complex Just Got Easy... [NCIS: LA FanFic]

Talking

After what seemed to be hours of nervous, expectant waiting, the doctors and nurses filed out of Lexie's room, the final doctor stopping to Callen, "Your daughter has suffered massive blood loss. This caused a seizure. She's stable, and she should be awake in an hour or so."

Wordlessly, Callen nodded his appreciation, as the doctor left. He took a deep breath, and slid the glass door to Lexie's room open. Awkwardly, as if she would instantly wake up and demand that he leave, he took a seat in the chair next to her bed, questions spiralling around in his head. He looked at Lexie, carefully taking in her appearance - Pale skin, even more so from blood loss, showed through slight patches in her foundation; Shoulder length violet hair, a little matted from the sudden moments of her recent seizure; Smudged eyeliner and mascara, as though she had been crying, which Callen assumed she had. She was only 16. She wasn't exactly going to be overjoyed about being shot.

But, he was brought from his thoughts, as he heard Sam's voice from by the door, "G. How is she?"

Callen glanced over his shoulder at his partner, but almost immediately looked back at his daughter, "Not good... She had a seizure about a half hour ago... She still hasn't woken up."

Sam put his hand on his friend's shoulder, as they walked to the back of the room, "Nell's been doing a bit of digging, and trust me when I tell you it is going to take a lot more than this to kill that girl. She's definitely your kid, G, 'cause she's a black belt in about 5 martial arts, and must have about 10 gold medals in them and kick boxing. Nothing stands out as a reason for shooting her though..."

Callen allowed himself to chuckle slightly, "She's a fighter... She's proven that by still being alive..."

"I don't think I wanna die just yet..." came a weak, female voice, "And I don't tend to do stuff I don't want to. Someone has some serious explaining to do. And don't start by going all Star Wars."

While Callen tried to come up with a coherent form of what he wanted to say, Sam spoke up, "You're happy for someone who just got shot."

Lexie shrugged, as best she could, "If you can't be happy you're not dead, when can ya?"

As Sam chuckled, Callen turned to him, "Sam, could you give us a minute?"

Giving him a sympathetic, understanding smile, Sam nodded, "Sure thing." And he left, carefully sliding the glass door closed behind him.

"So," Lexie started, "You're my dad?"

"You heard all that?" Callen asked her, not really answering her question.

"Bits..." she replied, honestly, as she tried to shrug slightly, "But enough. You never knew about me, did you? Mom never told you..."

Callen shook his head, "No, she didn't... Because if she had, you would never have been in all those foster homes."

"You know how it feels, don't you?" she asked, "All the foster homes?

"You're good," Callen smiled a little, "I'll give you that." But his tone almost instantly changed, "Lexie, I get if you want me to go. If my dad turned up when I was your age, I would've done the same thing."

"Dad," Lexie started, "I'm the first to admit I can be a bitch, but I'm not unreasonable. If my mom showed up, I'd tell her to go to Hell, but you didn't know that I existed. I ain't exactly gonna hold it against ya..." But Callen was caught off-guard by his daughter's next question, "NCIS?"

Although he knew exactly what she meant, Callen raised an eyebrow, feigning confusion, while he was generally curious as to how she knew, "What do you mean?"

"You're a Fed," she replied, nonchalantly, "Not rocket science. You and your Navy SEAL friend knew everything about me. You knew I was here. And, like I said, your buddy's a SEAL. SEALs don't just leave the Navy behind to become a Fed. So NCIS."

"Okay," Callen muttered, as he returned to the chair by his daughter's bedside, "You're very good."

"Little bit of logic and observation goes a long way," came his daughter's rather cocky retort, "As do painkillers... Bullet holes hurt like hell..."

Callen chuckled, "Yeah, they do. I've had enough of them." He reached across, and pressed a button on one of the remote controls on the side of the bed, gradually adding morphine into Lexie's IV drip.

"Thanks..." Lexie half-smiled, as the pain eased away, "Dad." That was the part that Callen was going to have trouble adjusting to. His line of work didn't generally allow for a family. Sam's case was about 1 in 100, with a wife and daughter. "You know," Lexie started, "You can ask me stuff. This is pretty damn weird for you, too."

"It's not every day you turn up to work to find out the daughter you didn't know you had got shot." Callen told her, sounding a little harsher than he meant to, unsure of what to say. "Sorry... Yeah... Kind of weird..."

"Ah, it's cool," Lexie smiled, "I'll make it easy for ya; My name's Lexie Callen. I'm 16, 17 on New Year's Day. I have 3 best friends, who are more like brothers, and no one else really likes me. 41 foster homes, hated most of them. Been doing God knows how many martial arts since I was 10. Pretty much the only thing that keeps me sane is music. I wanna study a major in Psychology, 'cause it's about all I'm good at. There you are. Me in under 2 minutes." she ended, jokingly.

Callen chuckled, dryly, "It'd take me about 30 seconds."

"I get the feeling I know why..." came Lexie's soft reply.

Callen laughed, "Get out of my head, Lexie. Just because you want to study Psychology doesn't mean you have to try and figure me out."

"Can't help it." she joked, "If you don't mind, getting shot makes a kid tired. You'd better come back here and see me."

"Try and stop me," her father smiled, "Rest up, Lexie."

"I think I plan to, dad."

And with that, Callen left the room, closing the glass door as quietly as he could. "How did it go?" Sam asked, startling him.

"Are you trying to scare the Hell out of me?" he asked, before answering his question, "She didn't tell me to go to Hell, so that was a good sign."

Sam smirked a little, "She anything like you?"

Callen shrugged, "A little, I guess... Found anything?"

"Nothing that would make someone try and kill her..." Sam replied, really not shedding much light, "Nothing at the crime scene apart from spent shell casings... Kensi didn't get much from the foster family. All they said was she's a tough kid to handle, but she knows where to draw the line. Eric and Nell are working on the video footage of the shooting, seeing what they can pull from it, but I wouldn't hold your breath."

"So, basically," Callen started, annoyed, "We got squat."

"We got squat..."