perfectcomputerfire

[perfectcomputerfire]

Ain’t it a Kick in the Head, Part 18

***

Deeks ignored the pain arcing up his ribs in favor of continuing to kiss Kensi. He probably would regret it later, but in the moment it was a perfect distraction. Pushing the limits of his mobility, he stretched up to get closer.

“Well, bed baths have sure changed a lot since the last time I was in a hospital,” a voice said from behind Kensi. She immediately pulled away as Deeks groaned internally, recognizing the voice.

He saw Kensi’s face was flushed again right before she turned around to face a gray haired man in a suit.

“You have the worst timing,” Deeks told him, adding to Kensi when she frowned in confusion, “Kensi, meet my boss, Lieutenant Bates. Bates this is Special Agent Kensi Blye. My temporary partner from NCIS.”

“Nice to meet you, Sir,” Kensi said formally.

“Uh-huh.” He looked Kensi up and down, clearly assessing, and she shifted uncomfortably under his gaze. “I hope I’m not interrupting.”

“No,” Kensi said quickly. “No, I was just—I need to check in with my team leader,” she finished evenly, barely catching Deeks’ eye on her way out.

“So you and the NCIS agent. You certainly now how to pick ‘em, Deeks.”

“You know I go method when I’m undercover,” he said, going for nonchalant. Or as much as he could while in a hospital bed.

“You’ll method yourself right into an early grave,” Bates warned him.

“So, should I be worried you actually came in person?” Deeks wondered. “Or do you need me to sign off on some super important paperwork?”

“I came because the big guys get upset when they hear a detective nearly bled out on company time.”

“I’m touched.”

“Quit being a smart ass. You took down a couple of nasty drug dealers and got us the information to arrest a couple more,” Bates said, and Deeks would have thought he looked almost impressed if he didn’t seem so annoyed. “LAPD commends your dedication. You did good work.”

“Thank you, sir. That appreciation doesn’t come with anything tangible doesn’t it? Say a bonus,” Deeks said.

“Don’t push your luck. You took a risk going in with almost no backup and injured to boot,” Bates said, shaking his head.

“Well, what fun would it be if I didn’t almost die,” Deeks drawled, trying to shift without wincing.

“You’re lucky you didn’t bleed out, you smug idiot. Whenever you get back from this, you’re on desk duty for an extra two weeks. Maybe that’ll shake some sense into you.”

So a slap on the wrist. Deeks hadn’t expected much more. The undercover unit wasn’t exactly bursting with applicants and burnout was high.

“That’s not very appreciative.”

“I never said I appreciated you,” Bates pointed out, though his heart didn’t seem in it. He tapped the end of Deeks’ bed. “Take it east and try not to get killed.”

“Aw, see you do care after all,” Deeks joked.

“You’re a piece of work.” At the door, Bates paused to turn and look at Deeks. “Don’t mess it up with the federal agent.”

[perfectcomputerfire]

A/N: This is a decidedly fluffy and comforty chapter.

***

Ain’t it a Kick in the Head, Part 17

“Slow down.”

“I’m not going that fast.”

“You just got out of surgery yesterday, for stab wounds, and I am not letting you tear your stitches on my watch.”

Deeks stopped in the middle of a typical looking hospital corridor, arching his eyebrow at Kensi.

Everything after he fired the last shot in that warehouse was a little hazy. He vaguely remembered firing his weapon, but not who he’d shot, and Kensi bending over him while everything around her blurred and spun. The next thing he knew, he was waking up with a dry throat and the kind of heaviness that only hospital strength meds could create.

Then he’d noticed Kensi by his side with some old magazine and the dull pain throughout his torso. She’d informed him he had a fancy new set of sutures and scars, and hadn’t left his side since then.

“Kensi, this is not the first I’ve been injured or been in the hospital,” he told her patiently. Deep down, he appreciated her concern; he was used to spending his hospital stays alone.

“Deeks, you needed a transfusion,” Kensi said, emphasizing each word as though he might be having difficulty understanding her. “That’s a really bad sign.”

“Last time I ended up in the hospital, I’d been poisoned, and all my boss did was stop in to make sure I wasn’t dead, get a signature for my medical leave, and express just how inconvenient my absence would be.” And Bates didn’t completely hate him.

“That’s awful.” Kensi looked horrified. She had a whole team of people who would probably show up for regular shifts. He wasn’t without friends at LAPD, but they usually weren’t aware of his injuries until after the fact. Or were busy with their own work.

“I’m not trying to make you feel bad for me,” he said, then inclined his head. “Well, maybe a little.” They started walking again at a sloth-like pace.

“After what you’ve been through, I think you deserve some comfort.” She shuddered, and her grip tightened on his arm. “I can’t believe everything you’ve been through with this case,” she sighed. “I’ve never worked on anything like it.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you.”

“Please.” She made a self-deprecating sound. “I felt like a rookie out there next to you.”

“Don’t sell yourself short,” he told her honestly. “I threw you a lot of curve balls and you went right along with it. Most people wouldn’t.”

If Kensi planned to protest anymore, she didn’t get the chance since Deeks’ legs decided to give out in that moment. Kensi caught him, bracing her arm under his armpit, keeping him from falling to the ground.

“We better get you back to your room,” she said as they stumbled along.

“He focused on inhaling shallowly through his nose in an attempt to manage the growing pain and weakness. When the finally made it to his room, Kensi carefully, well as carefully as she could, deposited him on the bed, helping him swing his legs onto the mattress.

“I knew it,” he joked in a breathless voice. Kensi paused in the process of untangling his IV.

“Knew what?”

“You couldn’t wait to get my back in bed. Are you going to make me feel better Indiana Jones style?”

“Oh my god—you’re ridiculous,” Kensi gasped, blushing a deep red. “I’m not kissing you while you’re in a hospital bed.”

“But I’m injured.” He fixed Kensi with his best puppy dog look, and after a few seconds, she rolled her eyes, leaning forward.

“You’re lucky you’re cute,” she told him, though she didn’t look all that annoyed. Cupping his cheek in one hand, she kissed him. At first, it wasn’t much more than a brush of her lips over his, but then she added more pressure. She made a soft noise when he lightly licked her bottom lip, his hand finding a place on the back of her neck.

Deeks had to pull away way too soon, or risk passing out. Head falling back on his pillow, he smiled faintly up at Kensi.

“I feel so much better already,” he said.

Kensi rubbed her thumb under his lip, her expression fond. “Then I guess I better administer another dose.”

[perfectcomputerfire]

A/N: After far too long, this story returns thanks to @perfectcomputerfire’s request.

***

Ain’t it a Kick in the Head, Part 16

Deeks ignored Kensi’s exclamation, swaggering out as though they weren’t in immediate danger and he wasn’t likely to collapse at any moment.

“I couldn’t help but notice you seem a little conflicted,” he said, and the brothers immediately stopped talking.

“This isn’t your concern, Max,” Dimitri told him. “Go back to your girlfriend. We’ll tell you once you’ve decided.

“Or, you could tell me now and then Bella and I can decide how far we want to take this.”

“You’re not in a position to barter,” Paul said through his teeth.

“And you could use all the help you can get. So, either tell me the plan, or we’re figuring our own way out,” Deeks warned, flipping from easygoing to calculating in a second.

Kensi didn’t know what he planned, or who Novikov was, but clearly he was important to Deeks. At any other time, she be impressed by his commitment. Now she hoped it wouldn’t get him killed. Either way, she didn’t intend to leave him behind.

“Or I could just shoot you and be done with all your talk,” Paul threatened. Deeks didn’t show any signs of fear, but Kensi tensed, ready to step in if needed.

“Yeah, who got us out of that warehouse? Your backup is almost gone and if you kill me, you’ll be fending for yourselves soon. I may be annoying as hell, but I’m also pretty damn useful.”

Deeks let that hang in the air, quietly smug, though Kensi noticed his left hand hovering close to his waistband in case he needed to defend himself. Paul’s wright shifted towards Deeks, and Kensi clasped the butt of her gun, sure this was about to get a lot more bloody. Then Dimitri pulled his brother back, regarding Deeks’ with disdain, but a resigned sigh.

“A business partner is arranging for a plane to take us to a safer location,” he said.

“Yeah, that’s a little vague. I’m gonna need—”

Deeks’ sentence was cut short by the door bursting open and shouts of “NCIS!” Kensi spotted Sam and Callen run in before the Kaisers’ two remaining guards charged forward, opening fire.

Kensi saw Deeks drop to the ground just as a bullet flew way too close to her face, and she ducked behind the pallet. She peeked out in time to see Sam exchanging one of the guards and Paul Kaiser. The other guard had hidden behind a piece of machinery. Deeks wasn’t anywhere in sight.

She checked her gun, preparing to pop up when there was a lull in the shooting.

“Well, this is cozy,” Deeks said, sliding in next to her. He had wood splinters in his hair and a half smirk.

“You’re insane,” she hissed, and he shrugged, looking around their barrier.

“You wouldn’t be the first to make that observation,” he told her, crouching next to her again. “You want to me to be the bait?” He nodded in Phillip’s general direction.

“No. Stay down and try not to bleed out,” she ordered, standing before Deeks could object. She aimed and fired three shots, each of them just missing Phillip, who turned and aimed, his bullets hitting the pallet a second after she’d ducked back down again.

Her second round, one of her bullets hit its target; Phillip jerked and fell backwards. Dimitri Kaiser took his place, but before she could even aim again, Deeks had moved in next to her, aimed, and fired. Dimitri grabbed his knee, collapsing to the ground with pained shouts.

In the middle of the room, Callen and Sam were taking custody of Paul, who seemed uninjured.

“See, I told you we didn’t need any backup,” Deeks said breathlessly, leaning heavily against the wall behind them. His jacket bunched up around his side, revealing fresh red blood soaking through the fabric of his shirt.

“Oh my god,” she murmured, reaching for him as he slid a few inches lower.

“But I might need that doctor now.” He gave her a faint smile, then sucked in a pained breath and went limp.

[perfectcomputerfire]

BTHB: Ambulance Ride, Part 1

BTHB: Ambulance Ride

NCIS: Los Angeles 

@badthingshappenbingo

—-------

A/N: Trigger warning for mentions/ descriptions of domestic violence 

A/N2: This is a 2-3 parter.

—---------

"So how's this supposed to work?"

Investigator Marty Deeks takes a sip of a lukewarm cup of coffee and settles on the couch. He already knows the answer to the question he's just asked the therapist sent down from Washington but there's nothing else his brain can think of at 7am. 

Christina Alexander, a Navy clinical psychologist, chuckles, "I'm very low key. I let my patients take the lead."

"Well, it's early, I'm hungry and it's 7am," Deeks replies. He takes another sip of coffee. "My chattiness usually kicks in 7:30, maybe 7:45."

"Ahh, there's the snark I've heard about. What would you be doing if you weren't here?"

Deeks shrugs and nods in the direction of the beach. "Pre….May, I would be sleeping or surfing. But now, I'd be trying to make breakfast for my wife and daug- foster child…teenager."

"Congratulations. How long have you been a foster parent? What are you experiencing?" 

Deeks rises to his feet and places the coffee cup on the table. He walks to the back of the couch and rests his palms on back.  "Why am I in mandated therapy again?"

"Since I came to my position," Christina explains with a glint in her, "I found it best that as the head psychologist, it would be good to meet the agents and investigators who work with the Navy."

"And what does that have to do with Rosa?" 

Christina pulls a small yellow legal pad from her briefcase. She writes down something illegible before looking back up to the Investigator.  "Rosa is such a beautiful name."

"She's an awesome kid,"Deeks agrees. He smiles at the pizza dinner Kensi, Rosa and he had the night before. "She's adjusting so well and Kensi has such a great connection with her."

"And you?"

"I am trying so hard not to screw things up." Deeks tugs on one of the loose strands from a cushion. "I come off a bit chatty and odd and especially don't want to screw this up with the different experiences one can have in a foster home-"

"Investigator Deeks-"

"Marty." He rocks slightly back on his heels. "Some call me Marty-saurus…..not really.  Sorry."

Christina laughs and it eases the tension rising in his chest. "Marty , I can base off of our short interaction that Rosa will be loved and cared for. Plus, with your own experience-"

Deeks straightens up, blue eyes now wide with confusion. "What experience? As a cop?"

Unexpectedly,  Christina hesitates and every cop- investigator instincts start flashing. She's uneasy by his guesstimate, as if his answer wasn't expected.

"Christina, what experience?" Deeks repeats. The psychologist peers down at her briefcase for a brief moment before suggesting, "How about we take a few minutes? I need to make a quick phone call."

She speeds out of the room without a second for him to answer.

—--------

After an excruciating ten minutes, Christina returns to a pacing Deeks. He's on his twenty- seventh lap around the boatshed when she walks in, expression much darker than he had anticipated. 

"Sorry about that," Christina says as she sits down in one of the armchairs. "I just wanted to confirm something before we continue. You said you didn't want to mess up Rosa's foster experience?"

Deeks sighs and walks back towards the couch. "Right before you bolted like a bomb went off, yes. You said I had experience- I had a rough childhood but-"

"What happened after you shot Gordon Brandel?" 

Deeks studies her expression for any clue to her train of thought. "A trip to the police station to get my statement and then it's really a blur after that until I started at a new school in August. I do remember that I stayed with a family friend of my mom for a bit. Why?"

Christina jots down a few details he can see from across the room.

New school

Police Station

Family friend

"You taking notes, Doc?" Deeks jokes nervously. 

"Only important information. Can you tell me about your family friend?"

Deeks scrunches his nose before recalling, “A woman with red hair, a dog….and her husband, " he snaps his fingers, "Laura and Richard! And a dog….named Cookie- no, Cooper."

"Hmmm…do you remember anything specific about your mother in the weeks after the shooting?" Christina asks. 

Deeks shrugs. "I don't- she was-"

"Mamma, I'm so glad we're home."

The voice in the back of his mind is small,  young and although he can't place it,  something deep down in his gut screams that the voice is his own.  Images soon follow of his own messy blonde hair being brushed from his eyes by a thirty something year old Roberta, bandaged and frail appearing.

Wait. Deeks sits up straighter. This feels like a memory. But I don't-

Deeks runs through every detail of that night- His mother had taken a beating two days prior and still had a large gash on her forehead and cheek that hadn't healed when Gordon had stumbled home wasted. Gordon had screamed, ranted at Roberta before with Ray's gun, Deeks had shot him.

"Marty?" Christina's voice breaks through his panic. "Are you with me?"

Deeks shakes his head and his voice comes out in a whisper," I can't- I just remembered looking up to my mother and she looks so much worse than I remember."

"Are you sure you're better?" The same young voice says in the back of his mind. Deeks winces when another image flashes across his mind- him sitting next to his mother on a couch and playing with a hospital ID badge on her wrist.

"Marty, can you hear me?" Christina asks again. 

Deeks' breath hitches and suddenly his face feels very, very warm. "I don't- my mind is telling me that my mom was discharged but I don't remember going to a hospital or going into the hospital. She looks horrible but I shot him before-"

Another memory flashes across his mind- a male EMT looking up to him in an ambulance. "I know this is scary, buddy. We're going to get in contact with your family and if not, there are some really nice families you can stay with until your mom gets better."

"Why am I in an ambulance? We didn't-" Deeks' eyes widen and shoot over to Christina. "What is- why- what aren't you telling me?"

"Your file that I received from Admiral Kilbride details your education and work history along with any major red flags the agency needs to know," Christina explains. "Your file notes, of course, the shooting and the aftermath. "

I'm going to lose my mind, Deeks thinks as his leg begins to bounce. "The aftermath was-"

"How long did it take for you and your mother to return home after the shooting?" 

Deeks bites the inside of his lip and rocks in his seat. "Like a day or two but….that's not right, is it?"

"It isn't." Christina pulls out an aging folder from her briefcase and rests it on the table. The Los Angeles County Department of Family and Child Services sticker sits below the tab. "You didn't go home for six weeks. You were in foster care while your mother healed up in the hospital for six weeks."

Deeks opens his mouth but remains speechless. His heart races in his chest as the truth dawns on him. 

I was in foster care and I have no memory of it. 

"Our minds protect ourselves especially when thrust in traumatic situations and for you, wielding a weapon while your mother suffered from major injuries from Gordon Brandel, sometimes we put away memories or build false ones to protect ourselves." 

"Yeah," Deeks mumbles. Another memory flashes across his mind causing him to wince.

Sirens blaring over the sound of an engine.

A man sitting across from him on a bench tending to someone on a stretcher. 

His hair sticking to his forehead.  

A voice from the man, now shining a light in front of his eyes, yelling, "Goddamn, kid. You shot him!"

A hand touches his elbow and Deeks blinks to see Christina now sitting next to him. He blinks furiously and realizes his cheeks are wet. 

 "Can you tell me how you're feeling right now?" Christina asks. 

He can't bring himself to say- I'm missing bits of my life, mainly one of the most traumatic things in my life. I'm drowning .

—---

"Baby?"

Deeks flinches as Kensi rests a hand on his shoulder. He hadn't heard her enter the boatshed after Christina had offered to call Kensi.

"What do you need?" Kensi asks. She settles on the couch next to him and keeps her voice soft. "What can I do?"

"Explain to me why half of the people in my life knew about a time I had apparently blocked out," Deeks mutters. "Hetty knew….and I'm pretty sure Kilbride didn't hand over a secret file from Hetty without reading it first."

"Did you get in contact with your mom?"

Deeks scoffs and runs his hand over his head. "I didn't- I didnt call her. I don't know what to say. Do I start out with- remember the worst time of our lives? Guess what- I just found it was much, much worse."

Kensi rests her chin against his shoulder and feels his breath hitch. "I don't know what to do, Kens." 

"What do you remember?"

Deeks leans back against the couch and pinches the bridge of his nose. After Christina had left the room to call Kensi, he'd recalled a white, quite fluffy dog sitting next to him in a room he doesn't recognize. "Ambulance…Riding with my mom on a stretcher…the sirens….someone's coat on my shoulder and then Laura and Richard's home."

Kensi nods as she takes in the information. "Bits and pieces. How long were you in foster care?"

"Six weeks."

"They likely put you in foster care during the investigation because no family members were available or it may have been the procedure."

He sits up and Kensi recognizes his eyes are red. " For a weekend, I understand. But six weeks- why the hell did I shut six weeks of my life away and throw away the key? What the hell happened-"

"Deeks, breathe." Kensi wraps her arms around his shoulders and presses her lips against his temple. He trembles under her touch and shuts his eyes. 

"I don't know what to do," Deeks whispers.

"We will figure this out, okay?" Kensi brushes away the rogue bangs covering his eyes. "We can start with Roberta. I'll call her."

—--------

Kensi steps outside the boatshed to call Roberta. 

She takes a moment before actually placing the call to catch her breath. Kensi kneels and listens hard for the ocean. The ebb and flow of the waves calm her only slightly- just like taking breaths. In and out. Inland and back to sea.

"Damn it," Kensi curses under her breath. Actually calling is a lot tougher for the junior agent then suggesting- Kensi blows out a puff of air before pulling up Roberta's call details. 

Just call her. 

Kens presses the call button and waits with the phone on speaker until Roberta answers in a happy mood. “Hello, daughter-in-law of mine, I have to tell you about the couple of things I got for Miss Rosa-”

Kensi’s stomach drops and she runs a hand through her hair. “Bertie-”

“It’s not much,” the older woman continues,”Just a new bed sheet, pillows, a cute little dresser-”

“Roberta!” Kensi exclaims. She hears silence on the other end of the line and continues, “Deeks just found out that he was in foster care but has no memory of it." 

Roberta gasps and Kensi can hear the sound of  a chair moving across the floor on the other end. “What?”

“He doesn’t remember it. Did you know he had no memory of it?"

Roberta sighs .“Who told you?”

“Does it matter?” Kensi snaps. She blows out another puff of air. “He was in a therapy session and it just came out. He has bits and pieces of an ambulance ride and a foster home and reuniting with you."

A sob escapes Roberta. "My boy…my baby boy."

Kensi presses her palm against her forehead and scrunches her nose in frustration.  "But did you know he didn't remember?" 

Roberta replies softly, "I knew but I was desperate because the truth was so much worse. Kensi, my husband almost killed me that night. Marty didn't shoot Gordon until he had beaten me almost into unconsciousness.  He almost killed me that night."

Kensi gasps and covers her mouth. She assumes Deeks hadn't been told any new details about that night and is thankful. "Deeks saved your life," she whispers.

"He thinks he saved me from any harm. I went into the hospital and we didn't have anyone to take him. He went into foster care with a nice couple. When I got him back," Roberta sniffles, "And he was okay and happy, I took it as a gift. He didn't remember and we got to move on."

Kensi feels the anger subside at her comment. “I’m sorry, Bertie. I really am. I can’t imagine what you went through."

Roberta sniffles and coughs to clear her throat. “ Where is he?” 

"We can meet you at your place within the hour." Kensi peers into the boatshed doorway where she sees Deeks sitting, head bowed. "See you soon."

“I’ll be ready.”

The call ends and Kensi can't help but imagine 11 year old Deeks being carried out of an ambulance behind Roberta on a stretcher. Her mind starts to build the next likely steps. 

Cleaning off any injuries from the young boy.

Officers with an advocate asking questions.

Deeks, her Deeks, alone and soon driven away to an unfamiliar home.

Did he even get to say goodbye to Roberta? Kensi wonders. To experience all of that at 11….I can't even imagine. 

[perfectcomputerfire]

Rescue, Part 3

***

8 Hours Later

Kensi bit at the tip of her thumbnail, the rest of her nails in a similar ragged state from the last 5 hours of sitting waiting by Deeks’ bedside. She was bundled up in a sweatshirt Nell had brought by and multiple blankets, but she still couldn’t stop shivering.

She’d carried the boy as far as she could until a medevac had arrived and medics took over. They’d taken charge of him first, removing his wet clothes and immediately starting a series of warming protocols, before following Kensi to retrieve Deeks. From there, they’d flown to the closest hospital with a landing pad.

The doctor who treated Deeks, diagnosed him with moderate to severe hypothermia. He’d also said she Kensi had mild hypothermia and frostbite and wanted to admit her for monitoring. Kensi adamantly refused, determined to stay with Deeks no matter what.

They’d assured her Deeks would regain consciousness once his body recovered sufficiently, but all she saw was his lifeless form. It didn’t help that he was surrounded by special heated blankets and an IV with warm fluids meant to safely warm him without causing further damage or throw him into cardiac arrest. In addition, he was hooked up to numerous monitors and oxygen.

This was one of the least violent injuries they’d ever experienced, which somehow made it all the more horrifying. Kensi squeezed her eyes shut for a second, remembering the stress and chaos as the medical staff rolled Deeks and the boy into the medical back, frenetically working to stabilize them.

The moment when she lead the rescue team to him in the woods and they’d bundled him onto a stretcher to be airlifted to the hospital. He’d been so pale, completely unresponsive, and worst of all, so cold to the touch.

She shivered now, this time from the memory rather than the cold and wrapped her arms around her torso, like the pressure would protect her.

“I’d kill for a cup of hot chocolate.” Kensi’s eyes sprang open at Deeks’ hoarse whisper and she jumped out of her chair, blankets falling to the floor in her hurry to reach his bed.

“Baby,” she whispered, running her fingers through his hair as he stared at her through hooded eyes, head tilted against his pillow. “Oh my god, I’m so glad you’re awake.”

“When I went skating with my mom, she always bought me hot chocolate,” he continued, phrasing slow and disjointed. He swallowed harshly and winced. “It tasted like milky water, but it was hot and oddly comforting.”

“God, why can’t you just say ‘hi’ like a normal person?” Combing her fingers through his hair, Kensi leaned forward to kiss his forehead, grateful for his unconventional methods despite her admonishment.

“Hi.” He coughed harshly a couple times and winced again. “I feel like crap.”

Chuckling wetly, Kensi kissed him on the mouth, ending with her forehead pressed to his, continuing to caress his cheeks and hair. It felt good to touch him.

Deeks worked the hand without an IV free, gently cupping her neck. It didn’t escape her notice how much the simple gesture taxed him, his entire arm shaking. Kensi clasped her fingers over his, adding her strength to hold his hand in place. She felt his smile on her cheek and she closed her eyes again, just enjoying the sound of his soft, steady breathing.

“Did he make it?” he asked after a couple minutes. “The little boy.” His brows were furrowed with worry now because of course he was thinking of someone else even though he’d nearly died himself.

Kensi lifted her head, nodding quickly.

“Yeah, baby, you saved him. He’s going to have a long road ahead, but the doctors say that you got him out in time and we kept his core body temperature up enough that he didn’t go into shock,” she explained.

“Thank god.” He let his head fall back again, relief crossing his features. “How did you get us out of there anyway? The last thing I remember is trying to walk back to the lodge and then…that’s it.”

“Um.” Kensi rubbed her hands on her thighs, tears filling her eyes suddenly. “Well, you passed out and I couldn’t get you to wake up, so I started carrying the boy to the walking with him.” She paused, pressing the back of her hand to her mouth. “Oh god, Deeks, I hated leaving you there. I’m so sorry, but it’s the only thing I could think to do.”

“No, it was the right thing,” Deeks assured her quickly, fiercely. “Getting him to safety was a priority. So you made it?”

“Uh, not quite. Turns out Nell used some of her wizardry to divert a medevac on its way back from another job.”

“Oh, looks like I owe Nell a fruit basket,” he joked softly as Kensi wiped at her eyes again. “Hey, you did amazing out there. You saved us.”

“I’m not the one who jumped into frigid water,” Kensi reminded him. “You were amazing.”

“You would have done the same thing if I didn’t get there first.” He lifted her hand and shook it gently. “Do you know anything else about him? I bet his parents are going crazy worrying about him.”

“The local police are reaching out to the community and tourists, but so far he’s still unidentified.” Seeing his obvious concern, she added, “Once you’re both more stable, maybe we can visit him.”

“I’d like that.”

Kensi shivered unexpectedly and wrapped her arms more tightly around her middle.

“You cold?” Deeks asked, eyeing her abandoned blankets.

“A little. Technically I’m supposed to be resting.”

“Oh, I have the perfect solution to that,” he said, patting the side of his bed.

“I’m not getting in bed with you,” Kensi said, trying to sound severe even though the idea sounded pretty wonderful.

“Why not? I’ve got all these cozy blankets.”

“Deeks-”

“And I really, really need to hold you right now,” he added, his voice hitching as anguish filled his eyes and she couldn’t deny him. Grabbing one of the blankets from the floor, she slid into the space between Deeks and the bed rail, carefully curling around his side.

He sighed, relaxing under her touch, and let his chin rest on top of her head. A few tears leaked down her cheeks onto his chest and he wordlessly brushed them away, embracing her as much as he could with all the tubes.

The even sound of his breaths, the rise and fall of his chest was more reassuring that anything else that he was alive and would be alright, and within seconds, her eyes drifted closed.

***

A/N: I hope this was a satisfying end. I decided to focus on the comfort aspect instead of hashing out the whole rescue. As usual, some of the medical information may be inaccurate despite my attempts to research. Thanks for all the support for this story, as always.

Part 1

Part 2

[perfectcomputerfire]

A/N: This a follow up to Rescue, per @anonkp’s request. I hope you enjoy the angst.

***

Rescue, Part 2

Kensi dragged them both from the ice, though the snow seemed little better. She’d called the local emergency and Nell, her hands trembling the whole time, from a combination of cold and fear. The ETA was 20 minutes, which was a terrifyingly long time.

Stumbling through the snow, she dug through their bag until she found an extra Northface jacket of Deeks and wrapped it around the boy after stripping off his coat. Both his and Deeks’ clothes were already half frozen. It wasn’t nearly enough but it was better than leaving him in just his soaking shirt.

“Kens?” She spun around, dropping to her knees next to Deeks. He lifted his head a few inches off the ground, entire body shaking uncontrollably and looked around desperately.

“Didn’t, did-didn’t,” he stuttered out, his voice so hoarse and quiet that Kensi had to lean closer. She cupped his hands between her, concern growing as he started to grow agitated.

“Baby, it’s ok. You both are ok and an ambulance is coming. You’ll be alright,” she assured him, gasping in between on the cold air. It felt her lungs were burning and simultaneously crystallizing at the same time. She could only imagine what it felt like to Deeks.

He nodded, letting out a relieved sigh that left a fog of white in the air, letting his fall back to the ground, snow sticking to his icy hair. Assured that he was conscious, Kensi moved back over to the boy.

There wasn’t any place that provided more shelter or at least warm from the air and snow, so she pulled him into her arms. Her coat was half-soaked, but it seemed better than leaving him on the frozen ground. She tucked his head against her side, beneath her coat, and hoped that it was enough. She brushed stiff strands of hair back from his cheek and looked back up.

Deeks had rolled on his stomach and was attempting to push himself up on shaking arms.

“Deeks, what are you—?”

“We need to at least try to head back to the resort,” he replied, dragging in a ragged breath as he staggered to his feet. “There’s no way an ambulance can get down here and who knows long air rescue will take.”

“Are you able to walk?” she asked, knowing that he was right and there wasn’t any point in trying to change his mind.

“I’ll manage.” Accepting that was the best she was going to get, Kensi wrapped the boy up as snuggly as she could. She found a few extra pairs of gloves and shoved them over his hands, the fingers far too long for him. Then she wrapped her scarf, which had somehow survived the water, twining it around his head and face.

“Here, put these on,” she told Deeks, tossing him the last pair of gloves. He caught them against his chest. Kensi pretended she didn’t see how long it took him to maneuver them, his fingers obviously clumsy with the cold.

Then she struggled to her feet, the boy held tight against her chest. He was lighter than she expected, but Kensi knew she would grow tired quickly, especially since he was completely limp in her arms.

Deeks lead the way back to the path, only moving a little faster than her. As they moved forward, Kensi finally registered the cold as the initial adrenaline began to where off. They’d been walking for a few minutes, when Deeks stumbled, narrowly catching himself on a tree stump.

“Deeks!” Kensi moved towards him, even though she couldn’t do any thing to help with her arms full.

“I’m good,” he insisted, resting on all fours for a moment while he dragged in ragged breaths. Kensi could see how much the effort cost him, but he found his footing again and pushed forward.

His movements continued to grow more uncoordinated, his feet shuffling, and catching on snow-covered roots and sticks. The third time it happened, he fell again, landing face first in a pile of leaves and snow. Kensi rushed towards him, heart racing when he didn’t move or make a sound.

She laid the boy down on a relatively clear patch of ground and rolled Deeks over.

“Deeks,” she whispered, cupping his cheeks and feeling for a pulse. It was sluggish and slightly uneven. “Hey, Sweetie, open your eyes.” His forehead wrinkled, but he didn’t show any other reaction. “C’mon, don’t give up yet. We’re almost there.” Licking her lips, she cast a desperate look between Deeks and the boy, judging how long it would take her to carry him to safety and then return for Deeks.

She knew he was her priority; as much as she wanted to care for Deeks first and the thought of leaving him behind killed her, she knew what he would want. Blinking back tears that froze in the corners of her eyes, she shrugged her coat off, covered as much of his body as she could, and cupped his cheeks.

“I’ll be right back, Baby, so don’t you even think of giving up,” she whispered, pressing her lips to his cold, mouth. Pulling back, Kensi pressed her lips together and quietly sobbed as she gathered the boy in her arms once more and started trudging her way through the snow.

There was no sun to warm her like when she’d walked down to the pond with Deeks earlier, carefree and laughing. Just the wind and cold, a constant reminder of how she’d left the most important person in her world behind.

***

A/N: And as usual, I need to write a third part.

[perfectcomputerfire]

Busted, Part 3

***

“I knew this was a terrible idea,” Kensi said, arms crossed as she stared down at the superintendent. He’d just informed them that Deeks was not only recognized by a man he helped convince, but was his bunkmate.

“Kensi.” There was a warning note in Sam’s voice and he shook his head minutely. She clenched her jaw to keep back anymore comments, fixing her eyes on a certificate played above Superintendent Reyna’s desk.

Callen leaned against the far wall of the office, across from Sam, his arms folded casually. Beneath his laidback demeanor, she saw the tension and tension around Callen’s eyes.

“How exactly does something like this happen?” he asked, and the judgment was obvious in his voice. “You were supposed to control the situation to make it as safe for Deeks as possible.”

Reyna had the good grace to look chagrined as he shifted in his chair. It was an look on a man so large.

“I intended to be there for his arrival and processing, but there was an incident in a different part of the facility that required my attention,” he explained, glancing between Sam and Callen. Possibly for approval. “By the time I got back, Deeks had already been placed in his current cell with Jeremiah Keizer. I explained all of this to your detective.”

“Great, how is he?” Sam asked.

“He’s a little banged up, but assured me he was alright to continue.”

“I think we should speak with him and see if that’s true,” Kensi spoke up. It was killing her that she couldn’t see him. She remembered him getting into character that morning. Now he was out there among hundreds of dangerous men, many of whom had additional incentive to want him dead.

“I’m not sure that’s a good idea,” Reyna said. “He’s already caused quite a stir what with the fight between him and Keizer, being taken to the med bay, and being brought to my office. It might make him a little too noticeable.” There was a tense silence as they all looked between each other, excluding Reyna from the wordless conversation. “So, just what is Detective Deeks and Jeremiah Keizer’s history?” he finally asked.

“From what one of our analysts gathered, Deeks was one of Keizer’s arresting officers following a violent burglary. Even though Deeks wasn’t the only officer on the case or to give a testimony at his trial, from the court record, Keizer personally blamed Deeks. As he was leaving the court following his sentencing, he promised he’d pay Deeks back if he had the opportunity,” Callen told Reyna.

“I wish I’d known that before you placed him here.”

“We gave you a full list of Deeks’ former arrests and possible enemies,” Sam reminded him. “Besides, Deeks has been a successful law enforcement officer for years. You should have known something like this could happen and prepared better.”

Kensi was mildly surprised; it was unusual for Sam to praise Deeks at all, let alone in front of a man like Reyna. She also thought it was a bit hypocritical given the way he shut her down just a few minutes ago.

“Agent Hanna, do you know the size of our population here? We are already overworked as it is,” Reyna said, his voice tightening. “Now, I don’t want anymore harm to come to Deeks, but you also knew there were a certain amount of risks involved when you agreed to send him in undercover. I gave him the opportunity for an out and he declined. Now it’s up to you to decide if you agree with that decision. Either way, it won’t work if you think I can keep him away from everyone who might recognize him.”

“Unfortunately, the Superintendent has a point,” Callen sighed. “Like any dangerous cover, if we micromanage him, Deeks can’t do his job and we might put him in more danger. I guess we just have to trust in his skills.”

Kensi kept her lips pressed together to stop an onslaught of comments but inside, worry gnawed at her stomach.

***

Deeks nodded to the inmate in front of him, who was currently in charge of serving breakfast, which consisted of toast, cereal, and completely over cooked eggs.

“Bose,” he said, nodding briefly as he scanned the room. It was partially a protective measure and an opportunity to plan where he would sit. He’d spent the last two weeks carefully establishing acquaintances and reinforcing his cover. His injuries had mostly healed in that time and he was allowed to participate in regular exercise, but his ribs still twinged occasionally, especially when he ran for more than a few minutes.

“Max,” Bose returned, mouth narrowed grimly. It was his usual expression, so Deeks didn’t take it to heart.

His history, or Max’s at the very least, had traveled quickly amongst many of the inmates, propped by some additional charges to make him stand out. Some kept their distance, not wanting any more trouble, while others saw it as a challenge.

Deeks chose his battles wisely; he knew he needed to catch Morgan Dentz’s attention among a crowd of men who had done varying levels of terribly things. However, he couldn’t be too reckless or he’d be branded a troublemaker. Not to mention, he received the same treatment as any other prisoner when he broke rules.

So instead, he built relationships, or at least what passed for them in a prison. Even on the streets, Max Gentry could be incredibly charming when he wanted to. Admittedly, it was a rough kind of charm, but it appealed to the type of people Max dealt with.

Like so many aspects of Max’s personality, Deeks had used his father as inspiration. From his dim recollections before Gordon was a full drunk, he made his mother laugh and never had a problem getting free drinks when he went out. After the alcohol took hold, he used that same charm and innate affability to convince cops that it was just a little argument and doctors to look the other way.

Taking his tray, Deeks nodded to Bose, and headed for a table a few left of center where a couple guys he’d become friendly with sat. It also happened to be right next to Michael Dentz’s favored spot. Deeks let his eyes linger on Dentz’ bowed head for a moment before moving on.

He was of medium height with a muscular build, his hair closely cropped. On either side, several of his posse were spread out, discouraging anyone who might want to mess with Dentz.

He’d watched the man and gathered whatever gossip he could without being too obvious. From what he understood, Dentz at least one person from his ring working in every department in the prison, as well as an unknown number of guards.

Approaching him directly would only make Dentz suspicious, so instead, Deeks put out feelers and waited for Dentz to come to him. It wasn’t the fastest way to get things done, but it might be a lot safer.

“Max,” one of the two men at his table greeted. He had shoulder length hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, his skin grey and particularly unhealthy looking, even for prison.

“White.”

The second, who only went by Hands, gave a grunt, which Deeks accepted as the only hello he was going to get.

While Deeks ate, White went into great detail about a woman who’d been writing him for the last month. Glancing around to make sure a guard wasn’t watching, White pulled out a wallet sized picture to show them.

When Hands saw the picture, he scoffed, shaking his head, and turned the picture for Deeks to see. It showed a pretty blonde woman.

“You believe this idiot has a girlfriend?” he asked, chuckling at White when he grabbed the picture back and shoved into his pocket. “No way she seen what he really looks like. No way in hell.”

“I guess it’s true what they, say,” Deeks commented, grinning despite himself. “There’s somebody out there for everyone.”

“Screw you, Max,” White said. “You ain’t got nobody writing to you.”

“I could if I wanted to, but I got standards.” White snorted at that and shoveled a spoon of eggs into his mouth as he mumbled something was almost certainly extremely offensive.

“What about you, Max?” Hands asked. “You got a lady waiting for you when you get out?”

Deeks huffed out a laugh, letting it turn bitter.

��Nah. I had a girl. We were even talking about getting married, but she said she’d break up with me the last time I got picked up for distribution. She didn’t even come to visit me when I was in holding, so there’s no way she’s waiting around for me to get out,” Deeks said with a shrug.

“That sucks man. How long did you get?”

“Seven years. Should have been just a couple years, or less, but my boss pinned the whole racket on me. Made it look like I was the one making it, selling it, everything. Funny thing is, that wasn’t even my full-time gig. I just helped out on the side when I needed the extra cash.”

“Well, maybe when you get you, you can pay him back then,” Hands suggested, flashing Deeks a disconcerting grin.

“Mm, definitely thought about it,” Deeks said. An alarm sounded, signaling the end of breakfast and everyone started gathering their trays. The guards barked at a few stragglers, who reluctantly fell into line. Michael Dentz’s table was the last to move and as Deeks passed, he saw Dentz watching him.

Though he was careful not to give any indication that he’d noticed, Deeks silently allowed himself a moment of satisfaction.

***

A/N: Hope this chapter was enjoyable. And once again, despite watching many procedurals, I truly do not know what occurs in a prison beyond my limited research.

[perfectcomputerfire]

BTHB: Addiction/ Withdrawal

BTHB: Addiction/ Withdrawal 

NCIS: Los Angeles

Trigger Warning: References to Addiction/ Withdrawal 

@badthingshappenbingo

---------------------------------

Merriam Webster's dictionary describes 'withdrawal' as the syndrome of often painful physical and psychological symptoms that follow discontinuance of an addicting drug.

Marty Deeks has known this definition, memorized it from the age of 12.

By twelve, he'd seen more than his fair share of people suffering the physical and psychological symptoms. 

The very nice man that worked at his mother's diner who'd staggered in one night in tears after relapsing.

The whispers between Sienna, a neighbor in their apartment building,  and his mother about Sienna's son going to rehab.

His father's failed stint at sobriety and his behavior being twice as bad as him being drunk.

After Gordon John Brandel’s arrest and subsequent jailing, twelve year old Marty Deeks had wandered into a Los Angeles Public Library branch one afternoon to read up on alcoholism, addiction and the countless other terms he'd heard from social workers, police and gossipers.

 A large textbook he had pulled down on his own listed a line that had terrified him.

Causes can include genetics

Questions had exploded in his mind.

Would he be an alcoholic like his father?

If he did, would he fail at going to rehab like Sienna's son?

Why did his father have to drink so much? 

Why did he turn into something else? 

Can people who turn into monsters like his father ever be good?

-----------------------------

September 2009

"LAPD!"

"Everybody on the ground! Hands up and on the ground!"

"Detective Deeks, you good?"

Right.

Detective Marty Deeks steps back from the table and his breath hitches at the sudden wave of heat in his cheeks. The warehouse, already hot as hell, starts to feel like an oven as his mind tries to register the name he hasn't been called in seven weeks.

Officer Kyle Yen , one of the few officers cordial with him, touches his shoulder gently. "You alright?"

I'm not Max. Max isn't real. 

A voice yells from across the room, sounding muffled, "MAX! YOU SON OF A BITCH! YOU TRAITOR!"

Deeks shuts his eyes and blows out a puff of air through pursed lips. My name is Marty Deeks and I'm not Max. I'm not the man who-

Another voice belonging to the leader of the gang he's infiltrated breaks through his daze. 

"Sure you gonna be a cop for much longer? Dunno 'bout that once LAPD hears what you did, Max."

"Need some air," Deeks croaks. He staggers towards the light peeking through the door. The fresh air unexpectedly churns his stomach, leaving him to hold in the need to vomit until he's past the police tape half a block away.

Max assaulted people. Max watched Anazi collect weapons to sell on the street. Not me…right?

He vomits until his stomach empties. 

My name is Ma- Marty Deeks and I am not a criminal or like my father. 

Deeks steps back and turns towards the warehouse, spying a line of perps being marched to a van. You did this for the city and now it's done, he weakly reminds himself, Max is gone.

—------------------

Breaking from being Max Gentry nearly eats him alive. 

He's reminded of the steps of withdrawal from his trip to the library and the dozens of health classes taken during middle school, high school and university. 

Symptoms are varied but may include fatigue, irritability, insomnia, anxiety….

Irritability sits with him for four weeks- he snaps at his mother more than warranted, his newly adopted dog and even the neighbors in his building. It's the same irritability he notes that his father had walked around the house with for days at a time.

Insomnia comes and goes in waves during the four week period after, the highs resulting in four or five hours of sleep to the lows of twenty or so hours without sleep.

And then the itch?

Missing the recklessness, the freedom to lean into the anger and the want to hit back? 

It comes and goes in waves for five months until he's given an undercover job at an MMA gym where he meets a dark haired girl named Fern.

—----------------------

March 2011

Fern tempers Max.

Even under the stress of being 'the temp' and the demand of being Max, the woman that has his heart tempers the recklessness and the temper of the undercover persona. 

Coming down from Max still hurts though.

The next morning, Deeks sits in his truck, gripping the wheel and riding a new symptom that hadn't appeared the last time he was Max.

Paranoia. 

How the hell are they going to look at me now? 

Do they know what being Max does to me or care?

Deeks slides out of his truck and grips the strap of his shoulder bag tight enough to turn his knuckles white. He's slow to walk towards the Mission, heart racing the closer and closer he gets.

Do they know?

"Deeks, settle a bet!" Callen calls from the quad of desks. "Sam's not willing to admit that I kicked ass on the range-"

"'M staying out if it," Deeks mutters. He walks behind Sam's desk and drops his shoulder bag on his desk. Twenty four hours ago, Max would have scowled right back at Sam's annoyed expression and possibly snapped at the others for not even weighing in the possibility of his own score- higher than Kensi's and beating Callen by one point.

The itch burns on his left arm. He can feel elements of being Max bubble up again.

"What'd you get?" Kensi pipes suddenly. He meets her mismatched brown eyes and finds the same warmth that's kept him sane on the team. "You never told anyone-"

Callen bows to read aloud from his computer," I have them up….oh…oh. Deeks, you beat me."

Kensi smiles warmly, "And on a course we've had training on and you haven't. That's impressive."

Sam shifts in his chair, sighs and mutters weakly, "It's alright, I guess."

As close to a compliment as he can get from the ex- SEAL and the smiles from the two other agents settles the paranoia, the heat and the itch. 

It's been awhile since he's gotten a compliment.

Maybe his partner and this team can end Max for good.

—-----------------

For the next eleven years, the lines between being Marty Deeks and Max Gentry begin to blur. 

Max's temper erupts when he sees the posed photo of Kensi lying dead in the desert. 

No, Deeks reminds himself in the following days, weeks and years, You waterboarded another human being. You lost control.

The nightmares that follow, the ones he doesn't tell his Sunshine and Gunpowder, are about the what-ifs of him not finding the error of his ways.

When Sullivan kidnaps Kensi and Hetty's frequent need for secrets comes to light, he doesn't trust himself for over a month. So much that he sneaks one night and spars at a local gym until his knuckles bleed and his head throbs from a headache. 

Silence comes, a detente of sorts, when he and his Sunshine and Gunpowder go all in. When they get married, survive her traumatic injury, his own traumatic injury and a wedding. 

Max is nearly a distant memory when he surrenders his detective badge in March 2021.

 The itch- all of it, he naively believes, are never to be seen again.

—------------

April 2022

"You in, Max? Or are you out?"

Deeks eyes the small two pills in the outstretched palm in front of him. The offer comes from a hollowed eyed, scowling man known only by the rumored name of Dante “D.C” Castellano, the leader of the mercenary group of the Sons of Guardians. Due to an attempted murder of two contractors working on naval intelligence, infiltrating the group had fallen to the team’s investigator.

“Turns out the last recruit had crossed paths with a Max Gentry about thirteen years ago.” 

He’d agreed reluctantly, this time donning a black North Face jacket and used scruffy jeans, as the leather jacket he’d used over a decade ago was donated to charity after Afghanistan. Kensi had read his trepidation and reminded him- “Max is just a role. You aren’t the same man from before, Baby.”

This is like having a sober man walk through a brewery.

“You walk in here like you own the place and expect a seat at the table,” D.C growls, “So what’s it going to be?” 

Deeks recalls the same unbreakable rule that's followed him from the LAPD to NCIS- avoid taking any forms of narcotics while undercover. Especially if your handler can't pull you out. 

Also known as- Don’t take shit that'll kill you. And really don't do it if no one can pull your ass out.

He shouldn’t take the pills. The Investigator knows this. 

However, he’s Max again, the  reckless, lone wolf fueled by a troubled childhood. And unlike Kensi’s reminder, Max hasn’t made the same peace with the demons that Marty Deeks has. 

So he takes the pills from D.C’s hand and pops them in his mouth. 

—-----------------------------------------------------------------------

OPS Center

Deeks is radio silent to the team for the final two weeks of the stint. 

Radio silence terrifies Kensi Blye as it triggers the emotional scars of Mexico. Any silence from her expressive and talkative husband within the last three years triggers the familiar desperation that reddens her cheeks, ties knots in her stomach and spikes the temperature in the room. 

PTSD. Both of them carry traces of their trauma with them, some entangled within them and some like Mexico, alone. She makes a mental reminder to book an appointment with Nate on things they need to share before becoming foster parents.

Support from her team, her family, becomes so overwhelming, so suffocating that she's desperate for any news good or bad by the end of the fourth week. As an agent, Kensi thrives in familiarity and the security of having some control in fixing a problem.

Not being able to lead a manhunt for her husband is killing her. 

—-----

"Agent Blye," Kensi answers to an unknown number on a midday afternoon exactly five weeks in. She's tired and irritable as she answers the call at her desk. A heavy, hoarse voice mutters something inaudible and now she's impatient.

"This is Special Agent Kensi Blye with NCIS. Who is this-"

"Fern. Help."

Kensi jumps to her feet at the pained, weak voice of Deeks. She freezes at the desperation and helplessness in her husband's voice. "Baby. Oh my God- where are you?"

"Dunno," Deeks slurs. "They…Had to…..h’d to…"

Kensi presses the phone against her ear as she sprints from the bullpen and up the stairs to the second level. "Didn't mean to do what, Deeks? Stay on the line and we'll find you-"

She hears something loud slam on his end and she halts in her tracks. "Deeks?" Kensi yells. 

"Not…good..person….m’sorry" Deeks groans and Kensi hears another thump on his end. "Take them. 'M tired."

"I NEED SOMEONE !" Kensi yells out. She wraps an arm around her stomach and feels a lump in her throat. "We'll track you and we will find you. Just keep talking, Baby.”

Callen appears at the top of the stairs first with Roundtree on his heels. Kensi peels her eyes from the crack in the wall she’s been staring at and up to both men. 

“It’s Deeks!” Her voice comes out as a choke, “He’s- someone track my phone please!”

On the phone, Deeks’ breathing becomes more and more labored. Kensi wracks her brain for any information on the case relating to drugs and local spots. 

“Tell me what the name of the drug you took,” Kensi asks Deeks. She shuts her eyes and slides down until she’s sitting between the second and third stair from the top. 

“Pill” He’s fading and she knows it. “Or’s it a Ji-Gi-”

Please, please. The agent prays as she asks, “Tell me anything outside that you see.” 

“There’s-” 

A loud thump, a louder thump than the others, echoes through his end of the line. Kensi reopens her eyes and finds that she can’t breathe. 

—-------

LAPD finds Deeks in Lincoln Heights. 

Kensi races to Los Angeles County- USC Medical Center’s emergency room alone to find an emergency room nurse practitioner named Alyssa Devine waiting for her. Alyssa’s calm and collected as she leads Kensi past the seemingly endless bays to a corner room. She can hear him, her husband, sobbing softly even through the closed doors.

“What is happening to him?” Kensi whispers. Her eyes burn from the tears in her eyes. 

“Agent Blye-” Alyssa says, “This must be terrifying for you to see-”

No shit, Kensi thinks. She watches Deeks turn his head towards a wall, eyes wide before re-shutting his eyes. “He had to take something . Is he- he looks sick-"

"We've taken blood to find out what he's ingested and should get answers within a few hours," Alyssa smiles warmly, which overwhelms Kensi. "When a loved one has taken a substance-"

"I have to see him," Kensi interrupts and before any protest from Alyssa, opens the door to the room and meets her husband's eyes. 

He's absolutely heartbroken.

Weeks undercover has her husband thin and pale with dark shadows under his glistening eyes.

"I'm sorry," Deeks shuts his eyes again and turns his head away from her in disgrace. "I screwed up."

She takes a step closer, noting the tremors in his hand. "You said you took something?" 

"I had to-"

Another step. "Baby, it's ok. I get it," Kensi replies, her voice softer than intended. "Do you know what you took?"

"Max."

"What?" Kensi watches Deeks stare out into space with tension on his forehead. He sniffs and continues, "You should say 'how much Max took' but it'd be a lie. Because I'm Max. There's no difference," Deeks whimpers. "I should have-"

Kensi slides on to the edge of the bed , remaining careful to give him space. "Deeks, you saved a lot of people. Callen and Roundtree are on their way to arrest the entire crew. When we go undercover,  sometimes-"

He continues to fidget as if not registering any of her words. "It eats me alive, Kensi. Everytime! I should have said no. How-how can I be a dad-"

"Stop." Her voice is tough. "Look at me. Is Max loved?"

He blinks. "What?"

"Max- is he loved? Does he love? Did he do what others his age didn't do and survive FLETC?"

"N-no-"

"Does he cry every time at the end of Up and Inside Out? Does he volunteer with veterans with disabilities? Is he spending nights enhancing our nursery so that our little or big adoptee forever feels love? And most Importantly,  is he the kindest, most empathic,  funny man that you are? "

Deeks bows his head and she continues," You are all the things, making you a better man than your father. You did the job and recognize what happened. Most importantly, you aren't alone."

Deeks sighs. "No more Max," 

"I agree," Kensi reaches over and kisses his forehead. He melts into her touch and begins to sob quietly.  She'll reach out to the Admiral and spend the following days speaking and supporting Deeks the best she and the team can. "Whatever you need."

[perfectcomputerfire]

Secrets and Lies, Part 6

The atmosphere in the boat shed was significantly less laidback than the previous times. Eric and Nell had set up camp across from each other at the middle table and were typing furiously while occasionally throwing back random pieces of data that made little sense to Deeks without context.

Sam, Callen, and Hetty were grouped around the mounted screen. Based on their expressions, Deeks surmised the discussion wasn’t going well. When Callen noticed them, he gave a brief nod.

“Glad you’re here. We have a problem.”

“Yeah, that’s what we heard. What happened?” Kensi asked, taking up a position next to Sam.

“We were able to intercept a call from Aaron Knight-” Nell started, but Deeks held up a hand, eyebrows furrowed.

“Wait, you have him bugged?”

“Essentially,” Eric allowed. “It’s a little more complicated than that, involving more sophisticated-and that is not important right now,” he decided when he caught sight of Sam’s mild glare. “The point is, we’re able to track both Aaron and Bennett’s phone, text, and email usage.”

“That could be dangerous. Why didn’t you tell me you were planning that?” Deeks glanced between Hetty and Callen.

“Because it wasn’t your decision to make, Mr. Deeks,” Hetty said slowly. “And it doesn’t affect your current role.”

“Well, I disagree. Forthright is incredibly paranoid. I’m sure he monitors those kind of things and if he discovers that someone is tracking him, he’ll shut the operation down,” Deeks warned her.

He was vaguely aware that everyone else in the room was watching him, particularly Eric and Nell. It was probably rare that anyone challenged Hetty, let alone a random civilian.

“I’m afraid that’s a risk we’ll have to take,” she responded evenly. Deeks was prepared to continue the argument, but Kensi nudged his elbow and gave a quick shake of her head. Hetty lifted her hand towards Nell. “If you’d like to continue, Ms. Jones.”

“Uh, right. So, like most of their conversations, this one was fairly vague. Aaron Knight told Forthright that a shipment is expected on Friday. We’re still working on tracking their movements to see if leads to a possible drop off location, but we haven’t found anything yet.”

“Any idea what’s in this particular shipment?” Deeks asked.

“Knight started to say something about packages, which we’re assuming means drugs, but it’s not certain,” Sam explained. “Here take a listen.”

He nodded at Eric, who pulled up a audio recording.

“Is everything on schedule?” Bennett asked, his voice instantly recognizable. “You know Hugh is getting anxious.”

“Hey, that’s not my fault. The packages got held up by some idiot at customs. But we took care of-”

“I don’t care what you did as long as the shipment is here by Friday and you cover your tracks.” Bennett hung up abruptly, assuming that Aaron Knight would do whatever was necessary to keep him happy. And as far as Deeks had seen, that was usually the case.

“Have you heard of anyone named Hugh?” Callen asked. “Maybe another one of Bennett’s associates.”

“No, unfortunately I haven’t,” Deeks said. “There are certain limits to what I’m privy to. Bennett’s a little bit better at keeping control of his mouth.”

“That’s too bad. Well, it’s a good thing you two managed to get an invite from him.”

“I was really impressed with that, by the way,” Nell added. “You predicted exactly how Bennett would react to finding out about Kensi.” She gave him an admiring look that lasted just a second too long.

“Yes, impressive indeed,” Hetty agreed pointedly while Eric stared at the side of Nell’s head through slightly narrowed eyes.

“Since the shipment date is moved up from what we expected, your goal isn’t just making contact with Forthright’s contacts and gleaning whatever information you can. You’ll need to find out where he keeps his hard drive and retrieve the information.”

***

“I thought this was supposed to be a dinner party,” Kensi murmured to Deeks as they waited outside Bennett Forthright’s mansion. It was in a classical style, with what she could see in the minimal lighting, a perfectly manicured lawn and ornamental bushes. She eyed the 15 or so cars parked around the spacious drive.

“Well, in Bennett’s world, this is a dinner party,” Deeks replied wryly. He grimaced, tugging lightly at the collar of his crisp blue shirt. Kensi let her eyes slide down over the rest of his tailored suit, which fit him perfectly. As much as he hated it, he looked fantastic.

Keeping Bennett’s wandering eyes in mind, she wore a cobalt sleeveless dress with a pleated skirt and sweetheart neckline. Hopefully it would keep their host suitably distracted while Deeks searched for the hard drive. They had Eric and Nell on comms, but Deeks would be doing most of the footwork.

The door was answered by a butler of all things, who took Kensi’s wrap and directed them towards a large sitting room.

“He has a freaking butler?” Kensi hissed to Deeks as they approached the open double doors.

“Only on special occasions.” Under the guise of fixing a loose curl, he kissed her temple and added, “It’s also a chance to impress those less fortunate than him and his prospective business partners.” Resting his hand on her lower back, he guided her through the door.

There were perhaps 30 or so people in attendance, spread around the room, dressed in tuxedos and gowns. A tall, red-haired man saw Deeks and nodded from across the room before traveling over Kensi in a lingering way.

“That’s George O’Connell,” Deeks supplied as the man watched them for a second longer and then turned to say something to his companion.

Bennett Forthright was in the center of the room, chatting with another man, his arm around his wife, Lisa’s, waist. She had a drink in one hand and looked thoroughly miserable despite her designer dress and the glittering jewelry she wore. Kensi guessed that she was a good 5 years younger than her husband.

Quickly ending the conversation, Bennett headed their way, tugging poor Lisa along with him.

“Marty, I’m glad you could make it,” Bennett boomed, squeezing Deeks’ shoulder with more familiarity and force than was warranted. Kensi resisted the urge to roll her eyes at the suggestion that Deeks was there of his own accord.

“Hi Marty,” Lisa added, showing the first sign of emotion with a brief smile, which Deeks returned. As soon as his gaze was off her, she took a long drink from her peach colored cocktail.

“You know, whatever the client wants,” Deeks drawled. Bennett just laughed it off, squeezing Deeks’ shoulder one more time before turning his attention to Kensi.

“And Ms. Capon, good to see you again. Definitely easier on the eyes than your boyfriend here.”

“Thank you, Mr. Forthright,” Kensi responded, looking up from under her eyelashes. “But you can call me Natalie. Ms. Capon makes me think of an old aunt of mine.”

“Oh great, now I have to create an aunt for you,” Eric complained over comms. Bennett chuckled lightly, resting his hand on her forearm.

“Then let’s drop all the formalities. At least outside the courtroom,” he said, managing to infuse it with enough innuendo that Kensi wanted to shake off his hand. She flicked a quick gaze at Lisa Forthright and he followed her gaze, quickly clearing his throat as he apparently remembered her existence.

“Oh, Natalie this is my lovely wife, Lisa. Lisa, this is Marty’s new, ahem, assistant.” Lisa acknowledged her with a unimpressed look and sighed,

“Nice to meet you. You must be lucky to work with Marty. Bennett always says he’s the best.”

Great, apparently Deeks had won over yet another admirer without even trying. Though perhaps they could use her attraction to their advantage.

“So, have you considered my offer, Marty?” Bennett asked abruptly. “You know if you work for me exclusively, I can offer you more incentive more than your current position.”

“I’m a founding member,” Deeks reminded him lightly. “Don’t think I can get much more incentive than that. Besides, you know I don’t like to be tied down.”

Bennett’s eyes tightened slightly with annoyance before he settled on grudging respect. It was obvious just from their brief meetings, that he wanted to control Deeks even as he appreciated his independence and craved his approval. It had to be a welcome change among a sea of brown nosing subordinates.

“Well, I guess I’ll just have to find another way to convince you.” Slipping his arm from Lisa’s back and gestured across the room. “Honey, why don’t you go with Marty and get everyone drinks?” he suggested, though he’d already turned away and taken Kensi’s hand. “I’ll show Natalia around.”

Kensi shot Deeks a quick look, which he responded to with the smallest of nods.

“Just watch your hands, Forthright.” He acknowledged Deeks warning with a chuckle and Kensi allowed him to lead her away.

***

A/N: Thanks to everyone for being patient with me and I hope this was worth the wait.

[perfectcomputerfire]

BTHB: Dragged by the Ankle

---------

@badthingshappenbingo

NCIS: Los Angeles

Dragged by the Ankle

--------------

A/N: This is a sequel/ followup to an entry for BTHB under the prompt 'Hand Gagging', which can be found here.

A/N 2: This came out, muuuuch longer than intended. (~3,000)

A/N 3: After two years, my Bingo Card is complete. =]

—------

Kensi

Tonight, she watches over him.

Twenty four hours after watching him jolt awake in fear, twenty four hours after learning of the monster who tortured her husband, Kensi will watch over him.

At first, she watches Deeks' eyes flutter close, his body finally settling into a gentle rise and fall of his chest. She watches his breathing slow and finally he drifts asleep.

So now she watches and waits.

Waits for the demons in his psyche to unleash the trauma again. She's been privy to more details he's shared with her in the hours since his nightmares and the bits and pieces he's mentioned throughout the day.

Kensi will not go digging for details outside what Deeks has given her, even as her instincts, her protective instincts scream for her to do so.

She doesn't need to know where specifically First Grade Detective Arron Monroe is.

She can't know the specifics.

The anger and hatred that bubbles over every time she's thought of that man, everytime Deeks yawns, reminding her of why he didn't sleep the night prior is indescribable.

So, Kensi will keep watch tonight and hold on to the knowledge that he is sleeping now and safe.

And maybe, just maybe, now that the secret is out and she knows of this trauma, they can move forward and heal.

And get some sleep.

—---------

He wakes up screaming and panting after two hours.

Kensi is sitting cross legged at the edge of the bed, fighting the fatigue creeping up her shoulders when Deeks bolts upright with a scream. Eyes wide, he gasps before his body falls to the left and she catches him in her arms.

"It's okay," Kensi assures with a grunt as Deeks' heavy frame sags against her. He's semi-conscious by her assumptions as he continues to breathe ragged and clumsily reach around him for support.

"Baby," Kensi calls out to him. He doesn't react to the nickname, only continuing to rest his body against her, panting.

She presses her lips against his sweaty forehead. "Deeks, can you hear me?"

No answer.

Kensi reaches out around his shoulders and squeezes his right hand that rests on her thigh. His breath hitches and then begins to slow.

Kensi lets a minute or so pass before asking, "You with me?"

"Y-yes," she hears in a hoarse whisper.

—------

She helplessly watches him suffer from nightmares for two more nights.

The nights repeat on a pattern- him drifting, hoping for a respite from the nightmares before drifting asleep.

Him waking gasping, panting and terrified of the past. Desperate for her to ground him and bring him back to Earth.

And then on the fourth day, the team is handed a case that takes up the time and attention that both of them desperately need. After two days, they return home and Deeks, either by exhaustion or a calmer, distracted mind, sleeps the entire night.

And the next.

She holds her breath night after night for a month, waiting for him to wake screaming.

But he doesn't.

—------

"Do you want to tell him or do you want me to?"

Callen stands next to her, his shoulder pressing gently against hers on the second level of the OPS center. In the early hours of a Saturday March day, six weeks after Deeks' first nightmare, Kensi muses over Callen's question with trepidation.

LAPD's called with a request for Deeks that may break him.

Monroe, ex-cop/current inmate , wants to chat.

She swallows slowly before inhaling. "What do you know about Monroe?"

Callen grumbles, "Everything. I can tell him-"

"No," she pushes herself off of the rail and starts walking down the stairs towards the bullpen. At his desk, Deeks hums softly as he logs into his laptop. He glances up briefly and asks," Callen says why are we here earlier than the crack of dawn?"

He's been lighter, happier in the weeks since the nightmare. Her stomach churns at her foolishly believing this was over.

His blue eyes are back on her, narrowed. "What's wrong?"

Kensi steps in front of his desks and rests her palms on the edge of the table. "An inmate by the name of Donovan Watson kidnapped a young mother yesterday here in Los Angeles. The mother is the daughter of a woman victimized by a police officer in 2007."

He settles back in his chair, elbow on the arm of a chair. His brow furrows as his mind processes the bits of information she's given.

"The victim's mother was Sarah Hal-"

"Sarah…Halloway," Deeks finishes for her in a pained voice. He taps his finger against the table, turns slightly towards his right and chokes out, "Just say it."

"Watson was Monroe’s inmate before being released six months ago at FC Mendota. Monroe claims to know where Watson and his victim is but will only tell you in person."

"He wants to talk to me," Deeks repeats. His face is drained of color as he repeats it in disbelief. She walks around the edge of the table and kneels in front of him, taking his hands. She can hear his breath beginning to increase as his eyes are shut tight.

"What do you need?" Kensi asks. "What can I do?"

He opens his eyes and whispers, "I don't know what to do."

Callen

"Detective, what happened next?"

"They..uhm…called me to meet so we can talk. I had no idea that Monroe would be there. I was jumped, thrown to the ground and then dragged across the floor like a ragdoll. They dragged me by my ankle - I remember feeling like it was going to pop-"

The level of anger Callen feels is indescribable.

The still shot of Deeks, thirteen years younger, battered and broken, sits on the wide screen in the OPS center. Callen rests his back against the table, arms crossed and a scowl on his face that could be described by some as homicidal.

Beside him, Fatima continues to rock back and forth between her feet, head ducked down as she types at her tablet. She's shaken, stunned at another piece of Deeks' turbulent period with the LAPD.

"Where are Kensi and Deeks?" Fatima asks suddenly, her voice cracking slightly. Callen inhales and exhales slowly to calm his anger for the moment to answer but Fatima begins to ramble, "I-I can't even imagine being asked to look a monster in the eye-"

"They went to the boatshed," Callen answers slowly. He begins rubbing his thumb against his pointer finger. "It'll give Deeks space to think and decide. Hopefully, LAPD and local police in Mendota can get something before Deeks would even have to do this."

"Who does this?" Fatima mutters with a shake of the head. "How do you take one of your own and hurt them, beat them, for standing up for what's right?"

Part of the testimony replays in the back of his mind- “Detective Monroe is a well respected member of the LAPD. What evidence besides your testimony do you have, Detective Deeks?”

Callen rests a hand on Fatima’s shoulder and feels the younger agent seeming to melt under his touch. “Monsters, Fatima. Monsters do things like that. Tell me about what we know about Watson and Halloway.”

Fatima nods shortly, gripping her tablet a little tighter. She taps the screen to pull up a photo of Watson, a green eyed curly haired man, likely no older than thirty. “Watson shared a cell with Monroe for over a year. Before going into Mendota, he’s a three strike winner with armed robbery, dealing and for aiding and abetting in an arson. He was released six months or so ago and dropped off the map.”

“So how does that lead us to Halloway?”

Fatima swipes to the right and reveals both Sarah Holloway and her mother Alison Holloway’s driving licenses. “His mother lived in one of the neighborhood’s that Monroe frequented. Turns out he was blackmailing and demanding restitution for protection back in the day. His favorite person to go after was Alison.”

The image of a battered and bruised Deeks sitting alone at a table flashes again in his mind. “I’m guessing- assuming- that this is what Deeks stood up to Monroe for,” Callen murmurs.

“Yes- Sarah’s boyfriend reported her missing yesterday,” Fatima explains. “She put up a hell of a fight when taken and LAPD was able to find blood on the coffee table of her apartment and prints on a wall corner. They matched it to Watson-”

“And the last person to spend any significant amount of time with Watson was Monroe. “

Fatima turns away from the screen and rests her tablet on the table. Callen can see tears forming in her eyes- he knows that Fatima carries the stress and the heartbreak differently than the others. He places a hand on her shoulder and she melts under the empathetic touch. “We will get Monroe to pay for what he did to Deeks, one way or another, Fatima.”

“I can’t imagine what Deeks is going through right now,” she whispers, “How- I….how do you look a monster like that again in the eye?”

Sam

The U.S Navy SEAL code replays in the back of Sam's mind.

Loyal to Country, Team and Teammate

Sam's aware, as he jabs at the sparring bag into the gym, that as a member of NCIS and as a SEAL, he'd initially failed the first line for three years straight. His conscience is hell bent on reminding him of said failure since receiving a call hours earlier of Monroe’s request.

You aren't much better, the voice in the back of his mind screams as he continues to punch out the undeniably homicidal anger towards Monroe.

But I learned-

His conscience laughs a low, hearty laugh- It took you three years to accept 'the temp'. Not much better, huh?

Serve with honor and integrity on and off the battlefield

Sam holds up both hands defensively and begins to circle the hanging spar bag. He only knows the few details Callen had given him over the phone-" Monroe….assaulted Deeks for standing up for what's right."

Sam strikes the bag with his left hand- Monroe doesn't have moral principles. Anyone who assaults-

His conscience interrupts his train of thoughts again- Or exile the man who ends up nearly dying protecting the identity of one's wife.

Take responsibility for your actions and the actions of your teammate

Sam strikes the bag again and then rests his body against the hanging bag.

Monroe will take responsibility for his actions. So will the others.

He'll make sure of it.

—-------

After an hour of sparring and no news from Callen and Fatima, he drives over to the boatshed.

The drive builds his nerves of facing the Investigator after his sparring session. As he enters the boatshed, he can see Kensi sitting on the stair above a despondent Deeks and tries to remind himself that the Sam Hanna of ten years ago and today are different people.

The Sam Hanna of before would be at arm's length from the then-detective. The old Sam Hanna wouldn't feel the insurmountable guilt and protectiveness that he feels today.

Sam pulls a chair from the table as he nears and sits a few feet away from Deeks. He leans forward and props his elbows on his thigh before asking, "How are you holding-"

“Why didn’t you like me when I first started?” The Investigator asks softly in a trance-like voice. His blue eyes are lifeless as they stare off into the distance. "You had said-"

"Deeks, I- '' Sam opens his mouth and shakes his head weakly. "I forgot my creed as a Navy SEAL. I didn't….I didn't have my teamm- my family's back. I didn't-"

"Never thought I would hear that coming from you."

Sam's head bobs slightly as he fights a lump growing in his throat. "I didn't have the honor or integrity that you carried and still carry with you everyday. It took three years too long for me to figure that out and I am sorry for that."

Deeks' eyes flicker over to him. "I forgave you a long time ago, Sam," he replies. "I just can't help but sit here and think of the people who knew what Monroe did and still didn't care. Thank you for caring- thank you for starting fresh after Sidarov."

Sam feels his eyes sting from tears. "You're my brother," he chokes, "You survived and whatever you decide to do, you aren't alone."

Kensi rests her chin on Deeks' shoulder. "LAPD is scouring the city looking for Sarah, Deeks. You don't have to-"

"I'll do it," Deeks replies. He's uncertain, Sam can see, but the willingness to face Monroe demonstrates the strength he should have seen years ago.

So Sam stands and nods at Kensi and Deeks. "Mendota is four hours away. I'll make the call."

—-------

FC Mendota

“MONROE! GET UP!”

First Grade Detective Arron Monroe grins at the voice of one of the guards yelling his name. He's lying on his back, hands tucked behind his head and well aware of the words about to come out of the guard's mouth.

“You heard me?” Carter- a burly, curly haired man in his forties- slams a baton against the bars of the cell with little care of Monroe’s scrawny cellmate or the hundred plus other inmates trying to sleep. Monroe slides his hands out from behind his head and rolls over onto his stomach on the top bunk to face Carter standing next to the Warden.

“I wasn’t expecting any visitors so late in the night,” Monroe jokes. His heart warms at the twin scowls on both men’s faces on the other side of the bars. “What’s the occasion?”

“You know damn well why we’re here,” the Warden snaps. “Get up.”

“Is it in reference to a ‘certain ex- cellmate’ of mine?” Monroe asks. "It’s been hours since you all last came to me asking questions. Did you follow my request?”

“Get off your bed,” the guard snaps. He leans back and snaps his finger to alert the security guard to unlock the cell door. “And let’s go.”

“So I’m assuming my request was met,” Monroe replies. He slides off the bed, careful not to fall down too hard on his sixty year old knees. He sighs dramatically as the guard cuffs his wrist and ankles for the short walk to the visitation wing. The Warden eyes his cellphone with frustration as Monroe’s cuffed and the man can’t help to poke the bear a bit further. “Hot date?”

“Someone’s life is on the line,” Warden snaps. He grabs Monroe’s right arm while Carter grabs another before walking Monroe towards the first set of security doors.

“You get fifteen minutes with your guest and you will stay handcuffed,” The Warden growls under his breath.

“You think I’m going to go after a poorly lowly detective in my old age?” Monroe laughs. He’s greeted with a suspicious silence between the two men before he’s hauled through the second set of doors.

“God help NCIS,” the Warden mutters under his breath and it is especially suspicious to Monroe. Who the hell is NCIS and why are they here?

—----------------

The rookie isn't what he expects.

Monroe is hauled through the doors of visitation room A by the Warden and Carter and walked to one of the corner tables. Deeks isn't cowering in a corner or avoiding eye contact like Monroe's remembered; instead with a shorter hair cut with strands of grey hair and a much bulkier frame, Deeks leans back against a wall near the table with a deep scowl on his face.

A stark difference from the scrawny man he had pressed a pistol against and threatened, "If you scream, Rookie, I'll shoot you and no one will care."

"Where's Sarah Halloway and Watson?" Deeks probes without a greeting.

Monroe peers at the somewhat familiar symbol of an eagle holding a shield on the badge on Deeks' waist. "You aren't…a cop anymore, are you?" The older man concludes with surprise.

“I'm a federal agent. Where’s the girl?” Deeks repeats, unflinching.

"The Rookie's a fed?" Monroe leans forward as far as he can over the table. “Do they know what we did to you? How you crumpled under a little ass kicking? How you betrayed good cops and needed to be taught a lesson?”

The younger man’s jaw flinches under the questions. “Where is the girl?”

Monroe raises his voice, "Bring them in here and we’ll chat! I’ll tell them about my favorite moment- dragging you in like a-"

“WHERE IS SHE?” Deeks yells suddenly. Monroe smirks as the rookie's eyes widen in shock at his own outburst before taking a step back from Monroe. The Warden, standing next to Carter, near the door barely flinch.

"Even exchange," Monroe teases. He settles back in his seat and rests his cuffed hands on the table." Location in exchange for our chat. I heard ol' Warden say NCIS- does NCIS know that you are a traitor? I also noticed you wearing a ring. Congrats to the unlucky bride."

Deeks doesn't spiral as Monroe expects him to- instead, the traitor begins to pace slowly in front of him. "My work with NCIS or anything I've done after you went to jail is irrelevant-"

"It proves you are a traitor-"

Deeks stops in his tracks, turns to Monroe and cracks a little bit further. "You were terrorizing a neighborhood and a young mother! I did what was right and you went after me for it!"

The older man shakes his head, chucking softly at the younger man's weak defense. He snorts, “I’m sure Alison is so thankful for everything you’ve done now that her own child was kidnapped because of you.”

Deeks starts to pace again. “Why did you ask me here?”

This is the moment he’s been waiting years for.

Monroe takes one last glance at the Warden and Carter, both now alert and listening expectedly. “I have been wanting to face you all these years but never had a good reason why. And then Donovan Watson, eager to please and easily manipulated, gets dropped off in my cell and I finally got my reason.”

Deeks stops again, this time stepping closer to Monroe. Monroe keeps a wide grin on his face as he continues, “ I’ve waited nearly thirteen years for this moment to tell you that I will be in your head. And the things that I want to do to you for betraying me….well, two more years goes by quick, Rook.”

Instead of fear, blinding fear that’s he replayed over and over, Monroe watches realization grow across Deeks’ face.

"You just threatened a federal agent,” Deeks states. He motions over to the Warden, who’s suddenly very happy. “You just threatened a federal agent and that plus you abetting in a kidnapping, you aren’t getting out in two years, Monroe.”

Monroe launches himself forward towards Deeks as far as he can while being cuffed. The move leaves him clumsily landing his chest on the top of the table and the impact of his chin causing him to bite his tongue. “You're bluffing.”

“You want to take that risk?” Deeks challenges. “Last time- where is Watson and Sarah Halloway?"

And you seem to forget that I have a lot of friends, Deeks, Monroe thinks sly. He huffs and sits back down on his chair. “Fine. I told Watson to take Halloway back to our old stomping grounds. You remember the building we took you to? It’s part of a neighborhood in Van Nuys called Willow Heights.”

—---------

Deeks

He's floored.

The Investigator hadn't expected Monroe's admission of Halloway's location- the number of tricks and lies Monroe had used to manipulate the citizens had been endless.

"Come on, Rookie. It isn't that hard- they give us money, we offer a little extra protection. If they don’t, make them realize how important we are in any means necessary.”

He steps back from Monroe, blinking furiously in confusion while reaching blindly for his phone. Monroe gawks at him, the most flustered he's ever seen the older man.

"Kensi," Deeks says as he presses his phone to his ear, "Van Nuys. There's a neighborhood called Willow Heights that LAPD needs to search."

"On it," she answers. "I'm outside when you're ready."

He's torn- a part of him wants to march over to the man and demand answers for every atrocity he had witnessed under Monroe’s watch. This part of him wants answers for every person outside of himself that had suffered under someone who had sworn to serve and protect.

But the other part of him reminds him starkly of differences in him of today and the young wide eyed rookie of over a decade ago.

He's stronger, smarter and doing something he loves- protecting those who can’t protect themselves.

He is loved and supported more than he's ever been in his lifetime, not only as a federal officer but as a husband and future father.

Deeks walks to the door frame, stops and turns back to face the monster who’d nearly killed him and haunted him. “We’re done here. Goodbye, Arron,” he says.

And walks out the door.

-------

Thanks for reading. =]

[perfectcomputerfire]

A/N: Back with a second part by semi-popular demand.

***

One Wrong Move, Part 2

This couldn’t be happening, Kensi thought. She’d had Nell call the CDC and report the possible contamination, heart pounding the entire time. Then, all she could was wait, unable to go to him. He’d watched over Fadel, refusing to let her come within 20 yards of him.

She’d watched, feeling completely useless, and increasingly desperate as blood soaked into his t-shirt in an uneven shape.

“Agent Blye?” She turned as one of the USAMRIID officers approached her, eyes narrowed in concern. He took in Deeks and Fadel in one sweeping gaze before refocusing on Kensi. “I was told you were on-sight when the incident occurred. Can you tell me exactly what happened?”

Kensi reluctantly stepped away to speak with the captain, keeping her narrative as brief as possible.

“Thank you, Agent Blye,” he said, her eyes sympathetic. “I’m sorry about your partner, but rest assured that he’s in the best hands possible.”

Swallowing harshly, Kensi gave her a brief nod and hurried back to Deeks. A lot had happened in the short time she was gone; a small perimeter had been sectioned off around the scene and multiple people in hazmat suits surrounded the area.

“Deeks!” she called, jogging closer.

“Ma’am, you need to stay back,” a soldier warned her, blocking her way.

“Please, I need to talk to my husband.” She attempted to squeeze him and a female corporal. “My name’s Agent Kensi Blye. Please.”

“I’m sorry, but I have my orders.”

“Let her through, Foster,” Colonel Kaufman said and Kensi pushed towards her.

“How is Deeks?” she demanded, matching the brisk pace he set towards the white tent they’d erected in the center of the pathway.

“Detective Deeks is doing well,” she responded, tone cautious. Kensi felt panic rising in her throat and clenched her fingers in to the softer skin of her palms in an attempt to gain some semblance of control.

“But?”

“We need to get him to the hospital as quickly as possible so we can provide preventative treatment. As you’re aware, this is a new strain that hasn’t been studied yet, but the good news is that we know exactly when Detective Deeks was infected and should be able to manage it better.”

“Ok,” Kensi whispered, completely overwhelmed. “I, um-” She shook her head, unable to continue. Ebola had a 50% survival rate when the treatments actually worked. That percentage might be so much lower. A wave of nausea ran through her. “I just can’t believe this is happening.”

“Kensi, Marty is young, healthy, and most importantly, going to receive the best care available,” Kaufman told her. To Kensi’s surprise, she clasped her hand, her fingers cool and firm. “The best thing you can do right now is have faith and be strong for him.”

“I can do that,” Kensi murmured, swiping a knuckle under her eye, and taking a calming breath. “Thank you, Colonel.”

“Sandra. And any time.” She glanced over her shoulder as two people came out of the tent. “You can go talk to him if you’d like.”

Giving her hand a grateful squeeze, Kensi hurried over to the tent where a corporal in military garb was posted. He checked her ID before letting her through and reminded her not to make skin-to-skin contact with Deeks.

Just like earlier that day, Deeks sat on a short bench inside. His hair was damp and he wore a different set of clothes than before. Someone had bandaged his wrist with a heavy swathe of gauze.

Kensi’s heart clenched at the sight of him, hunched over, head cradled on his hands.

“Deeks.” He lifted his head slowly, expression a little dazed.

“Kens, what are you-you shouldn’t be in here,” he said quickly, shifting to stand and then apparently thinking better of it as he moved to the far end of the bench.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” she said, taking a step forward. He twitched, running his hand through his hair.

“I know it’s not supposed to be airborne, but we shouldn’t take a chance.”

“I’m not leaving.” She closed the distance between them, stopping just a few inches short. Her legs nearly brushed his knees. She saw his throat bob as he swallowed, so uncertain, scared. Her fingers twitched and she folded them together behind her back so she wouldn’t give into the urge to brush the damp strands of hair back from his forehead, to touch his cheek.

“Did they say what the plan is?” she asked.

“Yeah, uh, they’re flying me to the military hospital in an hour,” he answered in a hollow voice. “Colonel Kaufman said they’ll start me on some preventative medications to hopefully get ahead of this.”

He let out a shallow breath, fist clenching on his knee. His normally tan skin was ashy. If she was scared, he must be absolutely terrified.

“That’s good,” Kensi managed. She sounded odd to her own ears and she tried to force a smile, remembering Kaufman’s advice.

“I am so sorry, Kensi,” Deek blurted out before she could manage to come up with something encouraging. “If I was more careful, this wouldn’t have happened. I was so stupid.”

“Oh my god, Baby, this is not your fault.” Horrified by the thought that he was blaming himself, she sank to her knees in front of him. “You were protecting that nurse and hundreds of other people Fadel could have infected. You had no way of knowing he had more of the virus on him.”

He nodded, looking beyond her, the gleam of tears in his eyes.

“I’m scared, Kens,” he admitted hoarsely.

“I know. But it’s going to be ok.” She pressed her closed fist against her mouth. “God, I wish I could touch you.”

“Me too.” He looked so incredibly lost, sudden anger flared up from deep within her.

“We’re going to get through this, Deeks,” Kensi promised fervently. “Just like we do everything else. And I promise I’ll be by your side every step of the way.”

***

A/N: Please excuse any medical or military inaccuracies. As you know by now, I am not an expert in most things I write about.

[perfectcomputerfire]

Secrets and Lies, Part 5

***

Bennett barged in without knocking less than a minute after Kensi left the room, dressed in a perfectly tailored blue suit and oozing superiority. He walked across the room like he owned it.

“Marty, I’m glad you’re in,” he said, taking the seat Kensi had recently vacated. “That woman at the main desk tried to tell me you were in the middle of a conference. You really should have a talk with her.”

Deeks felt his cheek twitch slightly at Forthright’s insulting tone towards the secretary in question, and his assumption that he had any say about their employees.

“And good afternoon to you, too, Bennett. You have to admit this was a little unexpected,” Deeks observed wryly. “Fortunately, I just finished up when Louisa called. “Now what can I do for you?”

“I have a slight issue with one of my more minor business partners.” Bennett rolled his eyes, examining his manicured nails as though the topic bored him. “He’s threatening to sue me and I need it to go away.”

“You know, your life would be a lot easier if you stuck with contracts I draw up for you,” Deeks pointed out as he grabbed a legal pad, and Forthright laughed, not offended by his mild admonishment.

“Oh, but there’s no fun in that, Marty,” he said lazily. “Besides, it keeps you in business.”

“That it does,” he agreed. Though Bennett had no idea a good portion of his money went directly to homeless shelters and a variety of charities. “Alright, what was the breach of contract this time?”

“Marty, I-” Kensi said, walking in with perfect timing. She broke of, feigning embarrassment as she caught sight of Bennett. “Oh, I didn’t realize you had someone-I’ll come back later, Mr. Deeks.”

Bennett’s eyes ran over Kensi, clearly taking in her smeared makeup and unbuttoned shirt. Turning to Deeks, his mouth widened in a delighted grin.

“Marty, who’s this?”

“This is Natalie Capon, my new assistant.” He allowed a half-grimace as Kensi stood in the doorway, cheeks flushed with embarrassment. “Natalie, meet Mr. Bennett Forthright, one of our very loyal clients.”

“I’m so sorry, Sir,” she apologized, quickly fixing her shirt and attempting to straighten her hair. Deeks silently applauded her performance; Bennett was eating it up. “I didn’t realize you were in here and I promise won’t interrupt again.”

“It’s alright, Natalie,” Deeks assured her as Bennett gave him another knowing look. He’d put the pieces together just as they hoped and clearly he was delighted by their combined discomfort.

“So I see you convinced her to join you after all,” he commented.

“I had some good incentives.” Shrugging, Deeks winked at Kensi, who gave him a warning look.

“Well, I can’t say I blame you,” Bennett said. “I wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off her either.” He gestured to the chair beside him. “Join us Natalie. I want to hear all about how you and Marty met. He’s always been extremely reticent about his private life.”

“Oh, I couldn’t,” Kensi said, shaking her head quickly. “I’m sure you and Mr. Deeks have important business matters to discuss and I have several depositions to type up.”

“No, I insist, Ms. Capon.” Bennett kept his voice light, but there was a hard glint in his eyes. After a moment of hesitation, Kensi joined them, sliding into the other cushioned chairs opposite Deeks’ desk.

Bennett watched her every move with an undisguised interest that made Deeks’ skin crawl.

“I don’t really think there’s much to tell,” Kensi said, crossing her legs so the hem of her skirt rose a couple inches. “I met Mr. Deeks while he was trying a case against my former employer and he mentioned he need a new assistant. It took a little bartering, but eventually I realized that moving to LA was exactly what I needed.”

“I can’t imagine that took very long.”

“Actually, Natalie runs a hard bargain,” Deeks countered, letting a note of pride creep into his voice. “I’m lucky I got to keep my office in the deal.”

“Well, I do spend most of my time around lawyers so it follows that I’d pick up a few things.” She addressed the last part to Deeks, her smile suggestive as she caught his eyes. The smile they shared didn’t escape Bennett.

“I’m seeing a whole new side to you, Marty,” he observed, lounging back in his seat. “You’ll have to bring her along to my next dinner. Say Wednesday?”

“That’s very kind of you, Mr. Forthright, but I don’t want to intrude.”

“Oh, it’s never an intrusion when there’s a gorgeous woman involved. Besides, I’ll take any opportunity to learn more about our secretive friend here.”

“Alright, enough prying, Forthright,” Deeks interrupted, glancing at his watch. “I have another appointment in half an hour, so we better get down to business.”

Challenging Bennett’s control was always a tenuous thing, but Deeks was counting on that. If he felt he was in control, or on the flip side, felt he had something to hold over Deeks, he’d be far less suspicious.

“Fine, but I’ll expect you both at dinner, Marty.” He reached over and rested his hand briefly on Kensi’s shoulder. “I look forward to further discussion with you, Ms. Capon.”

Accepting that she was affectively dismissed, Kensi offered Bennett a final smile then slowly walked back towards her office door, heels making a dull thud with each step.

“Ahem,” Deeks said, drawing the other man’s attention away from Kensi’s legs. Instead of appearing ashamed at being caught, he merely crossed one leg, grin widening into something fairly lecherous. He shook his head, the gesture almost playful. The man loved an opportunity to gloat, to hold information over another person whenever possible.

“I have to say, Marty, I’m impressed. I didn’t think you would actually be bold enough to bring your mistress into the office. That takes balls, Marty.”

“She happens to be an excellent assistant.” Deeks didn’t have to fake the tightness in his voice. Even if it played to their benefit, he didn’t enjoy the way Bennett stared at Kensi. He was the kind of man who would have zero difficulty coercing a subordinate into fulfilling his wishes.

“Oh, I have no doubt,” Bennett agreed. “And I’m sure she has many other…talents as well. Now, what are you going to do to make my little problem go away?”

***

Kensi returned to her office, immediate shuddering once she closed the door. She felt like she needed a shower after just a few minutes in Bennett Forthright’s presence; she didn’t know how Deeks managed to spend entire evenings with him.

For someone who’d never received any formal training, Deeks was amazing undercover. She’d known he had a certain level of skills to maintain his connection, but it was an entirely different thing to see him in action. Kensi had worked with seasoned agents who didn’t have his instincts.

She’d managed to text Nell a coded update and fix her makeup and hair before there was a familiar knock on the door and Deeks walked through. He rolled his head a couple times, sighing.

“Have I ever mentioned how much I do not like that man?” he asked, leaning against the door. Closing the space between them, Kensi wrapped her arms around his waist and leaned into chest.

“I’m sorry,” she murmured, lifting her head to kiss his cheek. She brushed his hair back from his forehead, seeing how much the interaction had cost him.

“What about you? Are you ok?”

“Yeah.” She paused a moment to make certain it was true. “I’ve definitely dealt with worse.”

“If that was supposed to make me feel better, it absolutely did not,” Deeks commented, squinting down at her.

“I’m fine, Baby,” Kensi reassured him. “Especially since I have you by my side.” She gave him a final squeeze before easing back. “You made the right call with how we played this. He ate it up and didn’t suspect a thing.”

“Well, I hope so. He’s an ass and full of himself, but Bennett didn’t get where he is by being an idiot. We still need to approach this carefully,” he cautioned her. “If he gets at all suspicious, he’ll shut us down at the very least.”

“I know, we’ll be careful. We’ve got this, Deeks.”

Her phone buzzed on her desk and she leaned over to grab it, answering when she saw it was from OPS.

“Hey Nell, did you get my text?” she asked.

“Yeah. But that’s not why I’m calling,” Nell said quickly. “Aaron Kingsley contacted Forthright shortly after he left the law firm about an outgoing shipment. You guys need to get to the boat shed now.”

***

A/N: Thanks to everyone who helped choose tonight’s chapter. Sorry it’s so late but I hope you enjoy nonetheless.

[perfectcomputerfire]

A/N: Thanks to everyone who made suggestions for today’s chapter.

***

Secrets and Lies, Part 4

For the next few weeks little changed for Deeks, other than having Kensi by his side every day. While Deeks knew they needed Forthright’s information as soon as possible, he also couldn’t push. He wasn’t the kind to request an invite to one of Bennet’s parties or dinners. The Marty Deeks Bennett knew wasn’t so impressed by his money or prestige and unlike most people, he didn’t feel the need to suck up to his client. To a certain degree, Deeks thought Bennett admired that about him. Unfortunately, it also meant that searching out an invite would raise definite red flags.

So he went about business as usual and focused on prepping Kensi for her new role. No one so much as batted an eye when Deeks casually announced he had a new assistant and Kensi appeared. A few winked, one of his partners made a dirty joke under his breath, but so far, no one objected.

It helped that Kensi spent the last several years listening to him discuss legal procedures and regular critiqued his opening and closing statements. There were still some holes in her knowledge base though and Deeks didn’t want to risk the chance that someone might call them out on it. His partners might accept him hiring his mistress, but they’d draw the line at an incompetent employee.

“Alright, how do these look?” Kensi asked, pulling a collection of paperwork from an accordion binder, pushing aside her half-eaten BLT. Deeks had an untouched club sandwich in front of him, forgotten amidst all the work. They’d taken to spending lunches in his office to brush up on and legal skills that were lacking.

Deeks had been picking up the slack while she got the hang of the appropriate writing format, but they couldn’t keep that up indefinitely.

He scanned a subpoena, a slow grin developing as he read. Even though it wasn’t the most difficult legal documentation, it took a certain level of legal knowledge and practice to write correctly.

“This is perfect, Natalie,” he complimented her, glancing up in time to catch Kensi’s look of surprise. Even though they swept his office for bugs and other tracking devices daily, he made a habit of using her cover name just to be safe. It still felt a little strange rolling off his tongue.

“Really?” A little smile played at the edges of her lips and she gave him a mischievous look. “You’re not just saying that because you get to sleep with me, right?”

Deeks snorted at that, choking slightly on a mouthful of coffee.

“Yeah, that definitely helps,” he agreed jokingly. “Seriously though, you’re picking this up really quickly. I think you’re set to handle these on your own from now.” He scanned the rest of the reports, making occasional comments and corrections along the way.

“Ok, these should be good. Of course I’ll continue to review before you officially submit anything, it would ethically and legally incompetent not to, but I think you’re set.”

“Thank you, Mr. Deeks,” Kensi said, affecting a flirtatious voice.

“You’re terrible, Ms. Capon,” he commented, leaning over to kiss her quickly. He enjoyed her playfulness. He’d expected her to be more rigid after seeing her interact with the team the last few days, but he didn’t mind that he was wrong. They’d make no headway if she seemed uptight and nervous.

“Good. Hey, I spoke with Nell after you left and-” Deeks’ phone rung before Kensi could finish, the ID showing a familiar extension number.

“Hey Mason, what’s up?”

“Mr. Deeks, Bennett Forthright is here and he’s asking to meet with you,” Mason responded on the other end, making Deeks sit up a little straighter. “He said the matter was confidential.”

He rolled his eyes at that, mouthing Bennett’s name when Kensi gave him a questioning look. Forthright loved making unannounced visits just because he could.

“Ok, send him up in a minute.” Deeks hung up, letting out a short breath. “Forthright will be here in a minute.” He glanced at Kensi, at her neatly tailored pants and blazer covered shirt. “You ready for this?” he asked.

“I think I can manage it,” she replied dryly, grabbing her binder. “I’ll be in my office, wait a couple minutes, and then make my entrance.” She cupped his cheek, expression shifting. “What about you? The brunt of this working depends on you.”

“I’m good.” And he was, even if he felt ever so slightly nauseous.

“Alright.”

As Kensi started to walk away, he added,

“Hey, uh, you might want to pop a button and maybe tousle your hair. Just for effect.”

Kensi rolled her eyes, but did as he suggested, even shedding her blazer before she stepped into her much smaller office. Taking his own advice, he ran his fingers through his hair a couple times and loosened his collar.

He settled back in his chair, drawing on the persona Bennett would expect to see. Calm, confident, a little ruthless.

***

A/N: Hi everyone, I intended to make this a little longer, but time got away from me. I hope you still enjoy and let me know what you’d like to see next Sunday. If it’s something you voted for last week, you can request the same thing again.

[perfectcomputerfire]

Can you please write a fanfic about Deeks having some side effects from his head injury few months after Mexico and the team and Kensi are trying to take care of him? As I feel like they downplayed his injury and we didn't see the support that he deserves

A/N: I apologize for the long weight for this one. I’m dreadfully behind.

I have written fics of a similar nature before, but usually closer to the incident.

***

Recovery

Just one more set, Deeks told himself, blocking out the throbbing ache in his head that grew with every push-up he did. Actually, ache was an understatement; it was more of a stabbing, all consuming pain that words could not adequately describe.

It had started out with a mild, yet familiar throb just behind his eyes. At first, he was able to ignore it enough to focus on the files in front of him. And that worked. For a while. But like usual, the pain broke through, blurring his vision and making him slightly dizzy.

His doctor who took over his case after they made it out of Mexico diagnosed him with persistent post-concussive syndrome. Deeks had a surfing buddy who had the same thing, although his was courtesy of a bomb going off near his Jeep in Iraq.

Since Kensi had assumed he had a TBI (apparently the whole temporary coma thing had really freaked her out), she was beyond grateful that his injuries were relatively minor in comparison. Everyone said he should be grateful. He was alive and, for the most part, was in one piece.

Though he would never say anything to Kensi, he didn’t feel so lucky. Since he had intermittent bouts of dizziness, even vertigo occasionally, debilitating headaches, and a few other unpleasant symptoms, he’d yet to be cleared for fieldwork.

Sure, the team somehow managed to finagle him into a temporary position that involved reviewing legal issues, but it wasn’t the same.

He was benched as a detective and liaison, was separated from Kensi, couldn’t even surf in case he passed out and drowned. Suddenly being unable to read a freaking sentence was the last straw. Deeks had shoved the rest of the document in a folder and headed for the gym.

Technically, he hadn’t been cleared for more than light exercise, but at the moment he didn’t really care. He needed to do something before he exploded and ended up showing the true depth of his frustration and anger. His keepers normally kept an eye on him-which was also extremely annoying-but today Sam, Callen, and Kensi had all headed out to investigate a suspicious fire at a federal building and the Wonder Twins were hard at work in OPS.

“50,” he breathed out, arms trembling with effort as he lowered himself to the ground a final time. He lay there, panting unevenly. His overheated skin felt wonderful again the comparatively cool wooden floor. In the past few weeks, Deeks had managed to sneak in a couple small workouts, but nothing significant.

It felt good; even if his abs felt like they’d been on the receiving end of a Kensi Blye punch, his biceps burned, and he was covered in sweat. Deeks allowed himself a couple more minutes on the floor and then hauled himself to his feet, moving to the weights rack.

The room shifted around him halfway there and he grabbed at a conveniently placed stationary bike to ground himself until the episode passed. The first few times it happened, he’d panicked, which only made his disorientation worse. Closing his eyes, he inhaled deeply, waiting to move again until it didn’t feel like he might fall over.

Ignoring his headache, which had now reached the piercing knife level, he stubbornly hefted a 15 pound weight and started a set of bicep curls.

“Pretty sure that’s not on your approved list of activities,” a dry voice commented from behind him. Deeks turned his head just enough to see Callen; he leaned on one of the bikes, legs casually crossed at the ankles. Deeks wondered how long he’d been watching.

He set down one of the dumbbells, swiping a stream of sweat off the bridge of his nose before it ran into his eyes.

“Yeah, well I’m pretty sure extensive reading isn’t either, but here we are,” Deeks shot back. He wished his voice was steadier. And that there wasn’t a hazy outline around Callen’s figure.

Callen smirked, giving Deeks a mildly impressed look. Biting back a couple of choice words, Deeks brought both arms up to his chest, pleased when his arms didn’t shake.

“That’s true. Though I think we both know it’s a lot less risky.” He paused a beat. “Kensi wouldn’t like it.”

Deeks made a noise of frustration as a sharp stab of pain spiked behind his right eye and spun to face Callen again. He roughly dropped the weights to the ground.

“Really? Your chastising me after all the times you’ve ignored doctor’s advice? Hell, you and Sam are poster children for “It’s just a flesh wound”.

“Yeah, we can be pretty hypocritical,” Callen agreed, surprising Deeks. “Doesn’t mean you should hurt yourself. Don’t tell anyone I said this, but you’re a lot smarter in that regard than us.”

Deeks chuckled, grounding his hands into his eyes and sighed.

“I just needed a break, ok,” he admitted. “This, being stuck behind, not being with Kensi, has been extremely difficult. And I, uh, I just needed to do something normal for a few minutes.”

“I can appreciate that.”

“So, you still going to rat me out?”

Callen paused a beat and then shook his head.

“No. Not this time at least.” He raised a finger. “But as your team leader, and somewhat friend, I feel I should tell you this is a bad idea,” he added.

“Noted.”

Callen gave him one more look, his expression unreadable, especially with Deeks’ wavering vision, and turned to leave. Once he was gone, Deeks stared down at the dumbbells, regretting his hasty decision to drop them.

“Damn it,” he sighed, laboriously lowering to a crouch. A wave of vertigo washed over him with the shift in position and he lost his balance, tipping backwards with a heavy thud.

***

“Hey, he’s moving.”

“Deeks. Baby?”

Deeks flinched as a cool hand touched his forehead. Peering through the slits of his eyes, he saw a hazy figure bending over him.

“Kens?” he muttered, recognizing her even with messed up vision. “Wha’s going on?”

“We found you passed out in the gym,” she said, relief obvious in her voice. He realized they were in a dimly lit room and Sam and Callen were standing directly behind Kensi. Someone had stuffed a shirt or towel under his head. Well, that was embarrassing; though he did appreciate that they’d thought to turn the lights down. His head still hurt, but that was probably in part because he wasn’t upright.

Kensi ran her fingers through his hair, bending to kiss the his forehead. A fragmented memory from Mexico raced through his mind, making him jerk again.

“I was worried you had some kind of relapse,” Kensi continued. She was still holding him, apparently reluctant to let go.

“I’m ok,” he assured her. “Can you help me up?”

“Are you sure?” Even as she eyed him uncertainty as she gripped one arm and supported his back until he was sitting.

“Here, drink this,” Callen said, handing him a bottle of Gatorade. He eyed Deeks knowingly, but didn’t say anything else.

“Thanks.” He downed half the bottle, avoiding everyone’s gaze as they stared down at him. His headache and vision was slowly improving and with that, came a fair amount of embarrassment.

“We found you on top of a couple dumbbells,” Sam spoke up once he was finished drinking. “You want to tell us what the hell you were thinking?”

“Sam,” Kensi protested. “He was just passed out.”

“Yeah, and who’s fault is that?” Sam regarded Deeks with an unimpressed glare, arms crossed over his chest. “He knows he’s not supposed to be straining himself like this.”

“Maybe we can have this conversation later,” Callen suggested diplomatically. “You know, when everyone is upright and headache free.” He said the last part a little pointedly.

“No, it’s ok, Callen.” Deeks sighed, reaching for Kensi’s hand again so he could stand. It didn’t feel great, but he’d rather not be in such a vulnerable position. “You’re right. I was being careless. I fully admit that. I got frustrated and bored, and-” He shrugged. “I just felt like doing something normal again.”

Kensi gave him a sympathetic look, squeezing his arm.

“Baby, I know this has been a long and hard recovery, but we just want what’s best for you,” she said. “You need to take care of yourself.”

“Cause if you don’t, I’ll knock you up side the head,” Sam added.

“Which is also not a medically recognized post concussion treatment,” Callen commented. “How about we save the head knocking as a last resort and we’ll see if we can include you in cases more frequently.”

“Ok,” Deeks agreed quietly. “But you guys also have to stop mother-henning me so much. I can manage walking upstairs without an escort.”

“Fine, we’ll give you a little more space,” Sam said. “Now it’s time for lunch. We gotta get your blood sugar up.”

“We’ll be out in a minute,” Kensi told him, glancing to Callen, who helpfully ushered Sam away. When they were gone, she threw her arms around Deeks and squeezed him hard enough to make him gasp. “Don’t ever do anything like that again.”

“I’ll try,” he murmured, holding her close. As stifling as it could be, he supposed there were worse things than having so many people care so much about him.

***

A/N: I hope this was alright.

Thanks for the prompt!

[perfectcomputerfire]

Busted, Part 2

***

Keizer struck Deeks twice more before he got enough leverage to push the older man off him. He wasn’t a particularly skilled fighter, but he was strong and exceedingly angry.

Deeks went for his head, punching Keizer’s temple three times in a row until he stumbled. Rolling onto his back, Deeks hooked his arm around Jeremiah’s neck, squeezing hard enough to make him gasp. In the distance, he heard the guard shouting for back up and metal clanging against metal.

Letting out a howl, Keizer shoved himself backwards against Deeks, and the bed caved beneath their combined weight. He grunted as Keizer landed heavily on his torso, driving the air from his chest. Something sharp from the bed frame dug into his lower back and he winced, shifting away from it as much as he could.

Then suddenly Keizer was pulled off and he could breathe again. Rough hands grasped him by the shoulders, dragging him to his feet. Before he could find his footing, the guard holding him, shoved him against the wall. He cuffed Deeks’ hands behind his back while another officer dealt with Keizer.

“He’s a damn cop!” Keizer insisted, fighting to break free with all his might. “I’m going to kill him!”

“Shut up,” the guard shouted, shoving him back into the wall. “Davis, take Gentry to the infirmary. This ones going straight to the solitary.” He was dragged from the room, the sound of his continued shouts echoing down the hall.

Even as Deeks stumbled along, his ribs aching, he felt oddly relieved. At least one of his problems was taken care of; if Keizer was in solitary he couldn’t spread rumors about Deeks’ identity. He could only hope that no one besides the guards, who seemed to think his claim were ludicrous, had heard his ranting.

Deeks was deposited in an open cubicle with a stiff examination table. The guard stood over him, gripping his taser as he watched Deeks suspiciously. He just stared back with a malevolent, but exhausted glare, letting his hair hang into his eyes.

Eventually, the a doctor who looked to be in his early 30s with prematurely graying hair walked in. He took one look at Deeks and muttered something unintelligible under his breath.

“I’m Dr. Anthony. What’s your name?” he asked, turning Deeks’ jaw to examine his bruised jaw. He gently probed the cheekbone and around his eye socket.

“Max Gentry.”

“Well, Max, I don’t think anything is broken, but you need a bandage or two and this will probably ache for a while.” He addressed the guard. “How was he injured?”

“Got in a fight with another prisoner,” he answered shortly. “First day here too.”

“Didn’t start it, but I definitely could have ended it if I had the time,” Deeks commented, allowing what he imagined was a bloody smirk. Glaring at Deeks, the guard took a step out of the door as a burst of static, followed by his name crackled over his radio.

“Mm. Do you have any other injuries, Max?” Dr. Anthony asked, surprising Deeks a little. Despite his apparent resignation, he obviously still cared about his patients.

Deeks didn’t get a chance to answer before the doctor quickly palpated his sides and he grimaced involuntarily.

“You have some tenderness in your ribs, I see. I’ll need to take some x-rays, just to be safe.”

“That’ll have to wait,” the guard interrupted, coming stepping back into the cubicle. The superintendent wants to see him.”

***

By the time Deeks was standing outside Superintendent Daniel Reyna’s office, pain was shooting through his entire right side. Reyna motioned him in, told the guard to grab a cup of coffee, and gestured for Deeks to take a seat.

As soon as the door was shut, he turned to Deeks with a frown.

“What the hell happened?” he demanded.

“I got put in a cell with someone I arrested,” Deeks responded, allowing anger to rise in his voice. “Oddly enough, he remembered the guy who got him sent to prison for 15 years after a lifetime of evading prison.” Deeks let his eyes rove over Reyna, from the top of his brown hair, buzzed down to a few millimeters, over his grey suit, and shiny black shoes. “So, my question is where the hell were you when I was processed?”

Reyna looked fairly contrite for a few moments and rubbed his hand over his hair.

“There was an altercation in the recreation hall that I had to check in on. I never intended to be go that long. I apologize.”

“Well, I guess on the bright side, I already have a reputation.” Deeks grinned sardonically. “If Dentz thinks I’m a rule breaker, he might trust me more easily.”

“You’re still planning on going through with the operation?” Reyna asked, eyeing Deeks in surprise.

“Sir, we need to stop this ring before someone gets seriously hurt,” Deeks reminded him. “And let’s be honest, there’s probably not many other guys fit the profile you need and who are also willing to go undercover in a prison.”

“That’s very admirable, Detective.” Reyna nodded his head, seeming to come to a decision. “But you better get on Dentz’s good side quickly, because I can only keep Jeremiah Keizer in confinement for so long.”

***

A/N: Once again, I don’t really know much about how a real jail works. I’m fairly certain based on research and cursory knowledge, that solitary confinement can last for a significant period of time.

[perfectcomputerfire]

Can you make a story about Deeks being sent to the county jail and met with someone who he has arrested before?

Sorry, if there are any mistakes, English is not my first language

A/N: I figure this is set maybe season 4-5ish.

***

Busted

“You ready?” Kensi asked, barely moving her lips as she spoke. Deeks kept his head lowered, cuffed hands loosely dangling between his knees, the picture of a regretful criminal.

Kensi had parked their borrowed LAPD squad car outside the booking area. All Deeks could see was the back of her ponytail, pulled tightly against the back of her head. It was harsh, just like the brown uniform she wore for her role as an LAPD officer.

When he didn’t respond, Kensi added, “Remember, after you’re checked in, Superintendent Reyna will take you to your block and you need to find Morgan Dentz as soon as you can.”

“I know,” Deeks said. “We’ve reviewed this a hundred times. I’ll be fine.” He wasn’t so sure that was the truth, but there was no point in worrying Kensi. He drew in a deep breath, getting into the mindset of Max Gentry.

“Right.” He lifted his head just enough to see Kensi eyeing him in the rear view mirror. “Ok, let’s get this over with. If you need an out, have Reyna call us.”

***

Deeks rolled his shoulders, staying silent as he was handed a small bundle with orange coveralls and a toiletries from an officer, named Campbell, with a permanent scowl.

Right now, was the only prisoner being processed, as planned. The hope was to get him access to Morgan Dentz, a veteran prisoner who was running an illicit drug ring that had made its way outside the confines of the jail walls.

The plan was for Deeks to find Dentz, find out who colleague was and how widespread the ring was, and then get back out as quickly as possible.

“Change and then you follow me, don’t speak to anyone,” The officer instructed Deeks, crossing his arms as he waited for Deeks to comply.

A note of alarm ran through Deeks; this was not the plan. Reyna wasn’t there though, so he grabbed the coveralls and started shucking off his street clothes. The whole time, he tried to think of a way to alert Reyna to his presence without raising Campbell’s suspicions.

When he was finished, he put his clothes, watch, and shoes on a bin and passed them over to a second officer behind a plastic shield. Campbell cuffed his hands in front of him again and then led him through a gate and down a chilled, concrete hall.

Sweat began to bead along his spine the longer they walked, as they got further from any help. They stopped midway down block four in front of a cell and Campbell ordered the prisoner inside to stand and move to the back of the cell.

A tall man with graying hair and an unkept beard slowly rose, giving Campbell a hate-filled look and slouched against the far wall. He watched them, regarding Deeks suspiciously, with guarded interest, as Campbell unlocked the door and pushed him through.

The door slammed behind him, and Deeks might have laughed at the cliche of it all if he wasn’t stuck in a prison cell with an unknown criminal. Keeping his head lowered, Deeks crossed over to the bed on the opposite side of the room, tossing his small collection of toiletries on the blanket.

“You look like you’re about to puke,” the other prisoner commented, his voice hoarse and only vaguely interested. “You better not get anything on my stuff if you do.” A note of warning tinged his words and Deeks stilled, suddenly recognizing the voice, though it wasn’t shouting obscenities at him this time. At least not yet.

Jeremiah Keizer. He was a career criminal Deeks arrested him for mugging a 50 year old woman. With the evidence of his previous arrests, and Deeks’ personal statement, the district attorney got Keizer 15 years. That was roughly five years ago. Somehow, Deeks didn’t think Keizer’s anger towards him had lessened in that time.

Deeks sat on the bed, keeping his head lowered. He was exceedingly grateful for the few extra days of beard he’d let grow and his slightly matted hair. Hopefully it would go some way to keep his new roommate, and anyone else who might recognize Detective Marty Deeks, at bay.

“Not very chatty, are you?”

“I don’t really feel like talking,” Deeks answered gruffly. He sent the other man a brief glare from under his matted bangs, drawing on Gentry’s less pleasant characteristics. Jeremiah just grinned back, settling on his own bed with a chuckle.

Apparently sensing he had a captive audience, Keizer continued talking. His ranting was a mixture of advice for surviving prison and warning if Deeks happened to cross him in any way.

After about half an hour, Keizer finally quieted enough for Deeks to hear the telltale sound of a guard patrolling the block. He stopped at their cell, surprising Deeks.

“Gentry,” the guard barked, gesturing for Deeks to come forward. “You’re coming with me.”

“What for?” Deeks asked, not rising even though it was risking some form of punishment for ignoring a direct order.

“There’s something wrong with your paperwork. Now stand up and put your hand in front of you.”

As Deeks stood again, Keizer sat up, a frown crossing his face.

“Hey, I know you,” he said slowly, making a move towards Deeks.

“Keizer get back against the wall,” the guard barked at him. Keizer ignored him, throwing himself at Deeks.

“You’re that damn cop who arrested me!” he shouted, punching Deeks in the face as he slammed them both into the bed.

***

A/N: I hope this was alright. It took a little thinking to come up with a scenario that would make sense.

Thanks for the prompt!

[perfectcomputerfire]

Secrets and Lies, Part 3

***

As Deeks had expected, Hetty was extremely open to the idea of Kensi joining him as his undercover girlfriend. It helped that she had inside knowledge about their relationship and had urged Deeks to assist NCIS in the first place.

Sam and Callen, not so much. It wasn’t clear if their mistrust was because they still thought he might be a double agent or they simply didn’t think him capable of pulling this off.

“Hetty, I get that you know Deeks better than we do, but I don’t think this is a good idea,” Callen told Hetty. They’d all gathered in the boat shed together, filling up the relatively small space.

Deeks had never been inside the team’s main headquarters, for obvious reasons, but he’d heard enough from Kensi about Hetty’s little throne, surrounded by her favorite antiques. Right now, she was perched on the edge of a far less regal chair, lips pursed as she listened to Callen’s argument. It was difficult to tell, even after many clandestine meetings, what she was thinking at the moment.

“You don’t believe that Mr. Deeks deserves our assistance should he fall into trouble?” Hetty asked slowly.

“Hetty, you know that I’ve had misgivings about this from the start. Bringing a civilian in, for such an important operation, is extremely careless.” He glanced back to where Kensi and Deeks had naturally taken a position at one end of the long table, a few extra inches placed between them for appearances sake. “No offense, Deeks, but we don’t know you, which means we can’t rely on you.”

“Oh, none taken,” Deeks responded cheerfully, even though he was pretty certain Callen hadn’t expected him to. “After all, I’m not sure I fully trust you two either.”

Sam made a sound of mild disbelief, but didn’t add to the conversation. He seemed resigned to Deeks’ presence, though that didn’t necessarily mean that he wanted him there.

To a certain extent, he understood their reticence; he was an outsider, placing himself in a dangerous position. However, he’d hoped that Hetty’s support would be enough to sway them.

“Callen, it makes perfect sense for me to go in as Deeks’ girlfriend and provide backup,” Kensi pointed out. “It will ease Bennett Forthright’s suspicions and if something happens to go south, I’ll be there.”

“Mr. Hanna, what do you think?” Hetty asked. He considered her question for a minute before responding, folding his arms over his broad chest.

“We need to stop those shipments and stop Forthright and his colleagues from starting up somewhere else,” he said finally.

“Well, then it sounds like the plan is settled.” Hetty clapped her hands together, looking fairly imperious in her mustard tailored-fitted suit. This clearly wasn’t a democracy, as much as the team might like it to be. “Mr. Deeks will continue to prove Bennett Forthright for information, accompanied by Ms. Blye.”

“It’s a date.” Deeks grinned and winked at Kensi. She gave a quick snaked of her head, eyeing Callen who didn’t look amused. Sobering, Deeks turned to face Callen. “Rest assured, I take this all very seriously, Agent Callen,” he said, adopting the tone that he used when he wanted a jury to listen to him. “I understand the repercussions if Forthright continues unchecked. And, I would never do anything put Agent Blye in unnecessary danger.”

He didn’t need to look at Kensi to know her attention was completely focused on him; he didn’t turn from Callen though, needing to emphasize his sincerity. Callen regarded him for several moments, silently assessing him.

“I guess that’s all we can ask,” he said, seeming to come to terms with the situation. “But you know we can’t guarantee your safety,” he continued. “Even with Kensi there, you could be hurt or killed.”

“I realize that,” Deeks assured him. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t come to that. Cause just between the five of us, I kind of like not dying.”

Sam huffed out a laugh and said something Deeks didn’t quite catch, shaking his head.

“Well, it seems you have this under control,” Hetty decided. “I’ll leave you to work out the details. Once you’ve settled on an alias for Kensi, make sure you let Eric and Nell know that you’ll need backstopping.”

Deeks watched her leave, wondering if the team had any idea about the magnitude of her scheming. Over the past few years, he’d had the opportunity to witness more than a few of Hetty’s plans, which always had so much more going on beneath the surface.

Pushing that thought to the back of his mind, he grabbed a chair from the table and sat down with his forearms arms braced against the back. The fabric of his dress pants strained slightly as he straddled the chair.

“Alright, so how do you usually come up with aliases?” he asked, addressing Kensi directly. “Cause if I have a say in it, I’m definitely voting for Fern.”

He bit back a grin at Kensi’s warning look. The other two would have no idea about the inside joke, borne from the night when he’d first met Kensi. They’d met at a bar while Kensi was celebrating a friend’s bachelorette party.

When Deeks introduced himself, she’d said her name was Fern and firmly told him she wasn’t available. It was only once more of the other bachelorettes had gotten smashed and were playing some kind of drinking game, that they started chatting.

From there, he’d learned that Kensi in law enforcement (though she hadn’t specified where at the time) and in between jokes, that he earned his first smile from her. With a slightly embarrassed smile, she’d revealed that Fern was the name she used when she wasn’t interested in a guy.

Deeks left that bar with Kensi’s number and called her Fern off and on for the first three months they dated.

The Kensi of the present had her arms folded over her chest, looking thoroughly unamused by the callback to their first meeting.

“Definitely not,” she said firmly. “We can reuse one of my old aliases. Or, I’ve always liked the name Natalie and I don’t think I’ve ever used that before.”

“Mm, it has potential, but not as perky as Fern.”

“Ok, we can figure out names later,” Callen interrupted. “The more important question is, how are you going to introduce Kensi into the picture without causing any suspicious? People are going to notice if she just appears out of nowhere.”

“I told Bennett that I was interested in someone from my office,” Deeks answered. He’d already discussed this portion of the plan with Agent Blye, but of course he couldn’t let onto that just yet. “She can start as my personal assistant as soon as we’ve have her identity settled.”

“What if Forthright or someone else asks around and finds out Kensi’s only been working for you a few days? That’s going to raise some red flags for sure,” Sam pointed out.

“I’ll say she was transferred from another firm and I convinced her to switch over. For the benefits package, of course.” Deeks flashed a faintly leering smirk, the kind that would make a man like Bennett Forthright chuckle knowingly. In a second it was gone and he regarded Sam seriously again.

“I, for better or worse, have a reputation as a player. Most of my partners wouldn’t be surprised that I’d recruit a woman from another office in a different city or state just to make another conquest,” Deeks explained, feeling a nasty taste in his mouth as he said it. “It’s helped me get closer to men like Bennett.”

“And what does your wife think about your reputation?” Sam asked. Deeks hesitated, purposely not looking to the side, towards Kensi.

“She understands why I do what I do. And a good portion of that reputation is based on rumors.”

There was a slightly awkward, charged silence where Deeks imagined that Sam and Callen were regarding him with mild loathing. He was sure Sam’s opinion of him had degraded considerably in the last two minutes.

“Eric and Nell shouldn’t have a problem creating a backstory for me that fits with that narrative,” Kensi spoke up. “Now, we should probably iron out the rest of the details so I’m prepared for my new position.”

“Right. I’ll call Eric,” Callen said, turning to walk a few steps away.

Deeks felt Kensi’s hand brush his back, not more than a graze of her fingers for a second, but it was enough to ease some of the tension from his shoulders. As long as they were together, they would get through this he reminded himself.

***

A/N: Once again, I’ve tweaked the characters a little to suit my purposes.