#Deeks Whump

[ejzah]

A/N: Thanks so much for your lovely response to this story! It’s been a little while since I’ve really whumped Deeks. I’m trying to keep the medical and concussion/TBI parts fairly accurate, but I will take some liberties.

***

Blunt Force, Part 2

Kensi sat there for however long it took for the tears to subside and some of the immediate grief to dampen. She felt completely rung out; exhausted in a way that went beyond the physical.

Her phone buzzed, and she pulled it out, unsurprised to see a text from Callen, asking for an update. Pushing herself up with a wince, Kensi went over to the single sink, cupping handfuls of cool water over her face. A quick check in the mirror confirmed her cheeks were blotchy and her eyes red. No one would miss that she’d been crying.

With a sigh, she dried her hands and face, finally leaving the relative privacy of the restroom to find a secluded waiting room to call Callen back.

“Kensi, how’s Deeks?” Callen answered her, not wasting time on greetings.

“He’s awake.”

“Good.”

“Deeks has amnesia,” she blurted out, relieved to tell someone else.

“You’re joking,” Callen responded, and she snapped back,

“Would I make something like this up?”

“You wouldn’t,” he said carefully. “Are you sure this isn’t one of Deeks’ games though? You know he is.”

“I thought he might have been messing with me too at first, but it’s legitimate. He thinks he’s still a public defender.” She paused. “Callen, he didn’t recognize me.”

Callen paused for several seconds, then spoke in a softer, slightly uncomfortable tone. “Did the doctor give a prognosis?”

“She’s seeing him now. I mean, he’s alert and still Deeks…just from six years ago.”

“Well that’s not great,” Callen sighed after another long pause. “I need to go update Hetty.”

Kensi felt a surge of fury at both him and Callen. It was senseless; of course Hetty would need to know, but it seemed so callous with Deeks barely conscious.

“Let us know what the doctor says.”

“Right.” She started to hang up, but Callen asked,

“Hey, do you think he’d like any visitors?”

“I’ll ask, but it might be too overwhelming right now since he probably won’t remember any of you either.”

“Right. That’s going to be weird,” Callen mused. He sighed loudly enough it sent a blast of static in her ear. “Ok, let us know when you need a break.”

“I will,” Kensi said, knowing that she wouldn’t.

***

The doctor was still in with Deeks when she made it back to his floor. With nothing else to do, she grabbed a cup of coffee and sat on the bench at the end of the hall, sipping on the bitter drink. She kept going back to Callen’s mention of Hetty.

The implications of Deeks’ amnesia went so much further than just him not remembering the team. Assuming his memory loss didn’t resolve quickly, he wouldn’t be able to work with NCIS, or LAPD for that matter.

“Agent Blye?”

Her head snapped up, and she almost knocked her coffee from between her knees. She caught it at the last second, her hand shaking a little as she looked up into the kind, but vaguely concerned face of Dr. Lesley.

“Sorry. Hi. Is Deeks alright?”

“I just finished his exam. Mr. Deeks gave consent for me to go over the results with you,” she explained. “Would you like to come to one of the conference rooms with me? The chairs are more comfortable and the coffee’s better.”

“Uh, sure. But don’t you think Deeks should hear this too?” Kensi asked.

“I already filled him in. He was concerned he might not recall some of the details and figured you should know too.”

“Oh, ok.” Kensi nodded. At any other time, she would have been flattered that Deeks trusted he so quickly, but her brain had picked up on another indicator of memory loss.

She followed Dr. Lesley to a small conference room, which looked more equipped for staff meetings than patient debriefings. Dr. Lesley brought Kensi a fresh mug of coffee and a pastry from a white box before taking a seat across from Kensi.

“Alright. Based on the screenings I administered, Mr. Deeks doesn’t appear to have significant cognitive deficits aside from the amnesia,” Lesley explained.

“Amnesia seems pretty significant to me,” Kensi observed, methodically shredding her danish into minute pieces.

“It is. It would be worse though if he was showing signs of short term memory loss or trouble with executive function for example, which can be present with a traumatic brain injury and concussion. He answered all of the orientation questions correctly, aside from the date. Which makes sense since memory loss of the traumatic event is extremely common and he believes it’s 2006.”

“What about a brain bleed or swelling? I know you said the last scans didn’t show minimal damage, but could it get worse again?”

“It’s a possibility,” Dr. Lesley confirmed slowly. “I’ll order follow up tests to confirm there haven’t been any changes, but I’m not overly worried about it.”

Kensi nodded, worried enough for both of them. When had anything ever followed the normal path for their team?

When she didn’t say anything else, Lesley continued.

“I didn’t assess his overall motor function yet since Mr. Deeks said he was experiencing some dizziness and disorientation.”

“That’s not surprising,” Kensi muttered. It was more surprising that Deeks had been so alert. From her own injuries, she knew how debilitating a minor concussion could be.

“Do you have any questions? I know I just gave you a lot of information during an overwhelming time.”

“No, I’m fine. It’s just…he’s my partner.” To her horror, Kensi’s eyes welled up again before she could even think of controlling her response. Looking down, she tried to force the tears back before it turned into full-on crying again.

She froze when Dr. Lesley laid a hand over hers, her touch cool, yet oddly comforting.

“It’s alright to not be ok,” she told Kensi. “You’re probably used to being strong all the time, but you don’t have to do this alone. Marty’s in the very best of hands right now.”

“Thank you,” Kensi whispered. “I appreciate that.”

“Of course.” With a final squeeze of her hand, Dr. Lesley retreated, gathering up Deeks’ file.

“Can I see Deeks now?”

“Yes, but I should warn you that he was pretty exhausted by the time I finished with him. He may be sleeping or irritable. I also ordered a liquid diet for his first meal, so if you can convince him to drink some, that would be good,” Dr. Lesley said.

“I’ll try, but he’s pretty stubborn. I guess it’s part of the reason we worked together so well,” Kensi joked.

“Good. Most of my stubborn patients have something to prove. And he’ll need your support to get through this.”

Kensi smiled faintly, not overly reassured by the sentiment. She didn’t know if Deeks would want her around once he r got to know her again.

***

In contrast to earlier in the day, Deeks room was as dark as it could get, his bed lowered almost completely. He lay on his side, face buried in his pillow. She closed the door quietly in case he was sleeping, moving silently to the chair by his bed.

“Who’s there,” he muttered, making Kensi jump a little in surprise.

“It’s Kensi,” she whispered back. He turned his head, the slit of one eye visible in the dim light. “Go back to sleep.”

“Wish I could.” He sounded miserable, and as she sat down, she saw the faint lines of pain creasing his forehead. “What time is it?”

“A little after one,” she answered. “Dr. Lesley said lunch should be coming soon. Maybe there’ll be some lime jello.”

“Oh god no,” he groaned, swallowing convulsively. “I don’t even wanna think of how awful it would feel to throw up right now.”

“Is there anything I can do? Do you need more pain medication?” She’d already half-risen from her seat, but he waved her back down with a limp hand.

“I just had some. Doctor’s ordering Zofran.” He tensed suddenly, and Kensi grabbed the plastic basin nearby, ready to hand it to him. Clenching his fists, he inhaled through his nose several times, his lips tightly clamped together before he finally relaxed again, his head falling back on the pillow. “God, this sucks,” he sighed.

She hated seeing him in so much pain and discomfort. Kensi didn’t know what possessed her, but before she’d fully registered the action, she’d reached out and brushed his hair back from his temple. Deeks tensed at her touch, and she started to pull back, completely embarrassed.

“Don’t stop,” he begged. “‘S only thing that doesn’t hurt right now.”

Kensi stayed frozen for a few seconds while she process the revelation that Deeks found her comforting. Slowly she slid her fingers back into his hair, carefully drawing the tips through his curls, working through the knots and tangles.

Deeks made a small sound of relief, leaning into her touch. After a few minutes, his breathing evened out as he fell asleep. She ran her knuckles across his cheek in a soft caress.

Studying his now peaceful features, she knew this was something she could and would do for him. She would be here as long as he let her. Even if he wasn’t her Deeks anymore.

***

A/N: You didn’t think I was going to let Deeks off quite that easy did you? At least he has Kensi to take care of him.

[densi-mber]

Addled

“Ok baby, just three more steps and we’re there,” Kensi encouraged, supporting Deeks under the arm that wasn’t encased in a sling. He lurched to the side, throwing them both off balance, and Kensi had to fight to keep them from tumbling backwards.

“Sorry,” Deeks mumbled, bracing a hand on the wall. It took him a couple tries to find it.

“It’s ok. But maybe it would have been a good idea stay downstairs.” Tightening her grip on his arm, Kensi braced herself in case he wobbled again. She forgot sometimes how big Deeks was, not just height wise. Now that she was supporting most of his weight, he felt like a giant in comparison. She was just lucky that he was semi-mobile.

Eventually they made it to their room, and Kensi helped Deeks into bed. He rolled onto his back with a groan, wincing as he tried to wriggle farther up the bed. He gave up after a moment, cradling his injured arm.

A few hours ago, their day had gone from ordinary to terrifying when Deeks found himself hanging off the side of a cliff while engaged in a fight with an armed mercenary. Kensi’s heart had stilled when they both rolled off the cliff, and out of view. Somehow, Deeks had managed to fend off the mercenary until the rest of the team arrived, at which point he’d passed out in a pool of his own blood.

The left side of his face had developed into a mottled bruise, speckled with numerous cuts and abrasions. A larger gash along his hairline had required stitches and now had swelled considerably. The list of injuries was topped off with a badly dislocated shoulder, and a collection of bruises over a good portion of his body.

The doctor who treated Deeks kept insisting he got off easy. Kensi found it hard to agree when Deeks was clearly so miserable.

He shifted restlessly now on the bed, his legs crossing and uncrossing as he tried to find a comfortable position.

“Do you want another pill? The doctor said you could have them every four hours for the first couple days,” Kensi offered, feeling helpless. She’d never been good at caring for people when they were hurting. Not Jack and certainly not Deeks.

“Oh god no,” Deeks moaned softly, shaking his head, and then wincing again. “The rooms already shaking enough already and I think I’ll throw up if I try to swallow anything.”

“I’m so sorry, sweetie.” Leaning down, she swept Deeks’ tousled and matted curls back from his face. His skin was so unusually pale, another indicator that he felt awful. “What can I do?”

“I don’t know. Maybe just lay down with me?” He rubbed a clumsy hand over the unbruised side of his face, clamping his eyes closed, and swallowing convulsively. “Or kill me,” he croaked.

Kensi slid into bed alongside Deeks’ uninjured side, tucking his head under her chin. He sighed, relaxing into her.

“Hey Kensi, can you tell me something?” he murmured after a minute.

“Sure.”

“Are there elves dancing on the ceiling?”

“No, baby. No elves,” Kensi assured him, hiding her mild concern at his apparent hallucinations.

“Huh. What about cows?”

“Nope.”

“Wow. This sucks,” he sighed sleepily.

“Yeah. But I won’t leave you, not for a second.”

“I love you,” Deeks slurred, already half asleep.

***

A/N: Once when my mom was recovering from surgery at home (torn tendon in her shoulder from falling), she was seeing all kinds of pictures in the trees across the street. One of the things being a massive baby bottle.

[anonkp]

Yes to this excellent story about my favorite duo, and to Sam’s acknowledging how badly he’s treated Deeks. And definitely yes to the idea of a follow-up.

BTHB: Distress Call

BTHB: Distress Call

NCIS: Los Angeles

@badthingshappenbingo

—----

A/N: Takes place mid season 3

—-------

"Twenty-three…."

"Twenty-four….."

"Twenty-"

Sam Hanna is cut short in his count as his cell phone rings out from below the bench. He sighs, places the fifty pound dumbbell onto the mat with his right hand and picks up his cell phone to see- Caller: Marty Deeks.

Why the hell is Deeks calling me? Sam thinks, nowhere in the mood for a ramble or random, idiotic question that's just popped in the detective’s head. Sam is especially not prepared for a question from Deeks while he's in the middle of LAPD undercover op.

The last one? "Sam, there's a shop out here in Boyle Heights- well, technically not Boyle Heights since we passed the sign- anyway, there's a boat sweater out here that has your name on it-"

Or the one from 3 months ago? "I hear you guys are undercover at a country club.  I'm jealous- Bates wants me to hangout under an overpass. Wanna trade?"

Out of curiosity and the knowledge that he'll likely here about it anyway when Deeks comes back, Sam presses answer and prepares for well, nonsense.

What he does not expect is the deep, pained breathing on the other end. 

"Deeks?" Sam calls out and drops the other dumbbell onto the mat. "What- what are you-"

"Sam…." The usually happy detective wheezes on the other end. Sam can hear the faint sounds of honking and a train over Deeks' labored breathing. "'Meant to call K'nsi."

"Are you drunk?" Sam asks, praying, please let it be that you are drunk or just woke up or-

"No…oww…I got…someone sta-stabbed me and m' bleeding, " Deeks slurs. Sam hears him grunt out in pain and what he assumes to be sliding or falling to the ground. "Where's K'si?"

Sam rises to his feet, turns and starts walking towards the gym's entrance. Although he's never told Deeks or well, anyone on the team, he's had two talks with Lieutenant Bates on backing up Deeks on undercover OPS.

I'm not in the mood to train another Rookie, Sam had snapped at Bates. 

I might have to do a third-

He shakes off the question and moves through the entrance and towards the bullpen.  "Deeks, you got hurt on another op? What did LAPD say?" 

"Didn't call 'em. Wouldn't come if I did anyway- ouch." 

"Are you moving? If you're moving, stop moving and stay still!"

Deeks groans out in pain again before silence  passes on the line. Sam stops in his tracks and calls out, "Deeks?"

No answer.

"Deeks!" Sam yells now and his voice echoes throughout the mission, attracting the attention of a few agents, Eric and Kensi. Kensi appears from behind the desk divider and raises an eyebrow at Sam.

Thankfully, the labored breathing starts up again. Deeks groans and slurs, "Drop-I'd…I think I dropped the phone on the- on the ground. I'm sorry-"

"Stop moving and stay on the line." Sam looks up to Kensi and Eic on the staircase. "Deeks was injured on an op and called me. Eric, get LAPD down to- Deeks, where are you?"

"Boyle He-Heights. M'gonna call Kensi. Didn't mean to bug you, Sam. I'm gonna-"

"Deeks, if you hang up the phone, I swear to God," Sam snaps. "Eric's going to alert LAPD and I'm going to put Kensi on the phone with you."

Sam hands off the phone to Kensi and watches Eric sprint up the stairs to the OPS center. He stands in the middle of the Mission for a beat and lets the adrenaline running through his veins settle. Odd to Sam, the only moment his trained mind can't skip over are-

Didn't mean to bug you, Sam. 

Or the true meaning behind the words-

Didn’t mean to interrupt whatever you were doing, Sam, to trust you enough to save me from dying alone. My bad. 

I'm sorry that I thought you'd care-

Sam shakes his head and forces a new thought into his mind- No, push the words off and go make sure he doesn’t die.

After a minute or so passes, Sam moves back into action, heading up the stairs to meet Eric. He expects the detective's pained voice and the words- didn't mean to bug you, Sam- to fade after they find Deeks.

However, even after LAPD calls to report Deeks alive, unconscious in an alley with a knife sticking out of his thigh, Sam Hanna's left with a set of unexpected emotions. 

Emotions that even as he teases and pokes at Deeks for another year and a half, sit in the back of his conscience. 

Emotions that multiply after he watches the detective scream in pain from being tortured. Tortured to keep him and his wife safe.

Guilt. Disappointment. Worry. Sadness.

Each emotion carves a spot in his conscience that he  carries during every happy and heartbreaking moment during the nine years that follow. 

The ex-SEAL never brings it up once to anyone. 

In nearly 11 years, Sam never brings it up, never asking- after everything I had done do you Deeks, why'd you call me of all people for help?

—-------

Part 2?

[whumpypepsigal]

NCIS Los Angeles s14e07: “You’re burning up.”

[get-whumped]

i wanna write an ncis:la fic but i also haven't watched that show since i was a teenager and i do not want to do any research so everyone is gonna be very ooc and no one is allowed to say anything about it to me or you're homophobic

[capturedpain]

NCIS: Los Angeles 5x01

Deeks in the hospital after being tortured.

[artiekareestories]

What makes you sad?

For me?

Its seeing my only notifications ANYWHERE are replies to me or spam…

I have to share my AO3 profile, because last week I FINALLY FINISHED my 2nd Chicago PD/Jay Halstead FF…

Until August last year I hadn’t written FF since like… 2001/2002… and that was LITERALLY hand written with a friend…

[whumpity-whumpwhump]

Goddamn. I decided to watch a random ncis whump episode and spun the wheel and ended up watching the finale of season 4 of NCIS: LA, since it was a two parter i watched the first episode of season 5 as well and just. Holy fuck.

The whump was so fucking good. Like, they had follow up and everything.

Marty Deeks whumps so good he is on the same level as Malcolm Bright for me.

And the aftermath! The aftermath is amazing! They actually show it and everything. Not only that, the hospital scene is amazing. Due to personal reasons it was really impactful and cathartic for me.

And we can’t forget the beauty that is the fued that Callen and the dude with one hand have. That shit’s my jam. If it wasn’t for Deeks and the perfection that was the agony he went through and the aftermath Callen would probably be all I can think abouy because like I said before the kind of beef he and that dude have is my jam.

I really want to bump the show itself up to the top of my watchlist right now, but I’m realistic enough to know this isn’t going to be like Prodigal Son or anything like that. And like, I feel my expectations may be set a little to high now. Because I loved the two episodes I just watched. Like I said, the whump and aftermath was perfection. I hope it carries on into the rest of the season and they don’t just forget it ever happened but I have enough faith that I don’t think the writers would do that.

Anyways yeah. This temporarily cured my depression.

My question now though is do I hope right in? Or should I wait and adjust my expectations for the show? And is it really as good as those to episodes? Like, even aside from the whump, if this is the standard then I will be beyond thrilled. But I do kind of want to know if the two episodes I just watched were the exception and not the rule. Like, on a scale of quality and stuff what should I be expecting?

Anyhow, I am excited to actually sit down and watch the series itself sometime soon. Even if it’s not going to the top it has definitely been bumped up on my watchlist. (Because like the characters. Can we talk about how good the characters are and how much I love them all already?)

[ejzah]

A/N: What if Deeks was injured more significantly in “Free Ride”? Let’s explore that question in my Whumptober fic of the year. Ignore any medical inaccuracies.

***

Blunt Force

Kensi raced through the halls, pushing past crew in an effort to reach the man pushing the garbage bin. Sam rushed past her, tackling the guy, and the bin tipped over, Deeks spilling out in a limp heap.

“Oh my god,” she murmured, dropping in front of him. He’d fallen at an awkward angle with legs twisted beneath him and his head tilted to the side. She hovered over him, hesitant to move his head or neck if he had any injuries. Thankfully, she could see his chest rose and fall shallowly, but evenly.

“Deeks. Deeks, can you open your eyes?” Kensi asked, unable to control the shaking in her voice. Carefully, she slipped her left hand under his head and probed the back of his skull, wincing when she felt a prominent bump just below his crown.

“Kensi,” Sam prompted from behind her.

“He’s not responding at all. He needs medical attention.” She smoothed his hair back with the tips of her fingers. It scared her to see him so still.

“I’ll alert the on-board medic and have Eric call in a med-evac,” Sam said, and Kensi nodded without looking at him, completely focused on Deeks.

***

Deeks woke with a pained grimace, instinctively tugging away from something tangled around his arm. Opening his eyes, he squinted against a bright flare of light, and after a few blinks, realized he was in a hospital.

Crap, he must have pissed off a defendant.

Wincing, fumbled at his nose and after a few tries, removed the nasal cannula, instantly feeling better without it scraping the inner tissue. With that out of the way, he took stock of his situation.

His head throbbed worse than the only time he got drunk in college and opening his eyes more than a slit made the pain spike and his stomach clench. He heard the door open, and lazily turned his head towards it, praying that whoever it was wouldn’t turn on a light.

Fortunately, the nurse who entered with a rolling cart of medical equipment kept the lights off and spoke in a low tone as she greeted him.

“Good to see you awake, Mr. Deeks. Let me just check your blood pressure and heart, and I’ll grab your doctor.”

As she placed the stethoscope on his skin, he noted the name tag displayed below her left shoulder.

“Tamara, what happened to me?”

She recorded his heart rate, wrapping a blood pressure cuff around his bicep. She offered him a smile. “I wish I could tell you, but you’ll have to wait for the doctor. You just rest for now.”

“You can’t even tell me how I bumped my head?” he pressed, turning up the charm as much as he could in his current state.

“Sorry, no chance, darling. I’ll come check on you in a little while. Maybe I’ll even bring you some jello.”

“Well, that is my favorite,” he commented with a wan smile. The thought of eating sounded awful right now.

Tamara left, and he leaned back, closing his eyes in a futile attempt to ignore how truly awful he felt. He let his thoughts drift to the last thing he remembered, but all that came to mind was something involving spinach.

The last case he’d worked involved a known drug dealer. No, a DV case. He rubbed his temples as his thoughts and memories ran together in a dizzying, confusing mess.

***

Kensi had been waiting for Deeks to regain consciousness for the better part of a day. He’d been through CAT scans, and MRI, and numerous other tests to ensure he didn’t have serious brain damage. So far they’d all come back with minimal signs of injury, which was a relief, but she wouldn’t breathe easily until he woke up.

She’d spent the morning pretending to read a book one of the nurses gave her—she hadn’t processed a single word of it—and staring at Deeks, silently pleading with him to wake up.

At lunchtime, the lead nurse had convinced Kensi to grab something for herself while she checked on Deeks. Kensi reluctantly agreed, running down to the vending machine rather than the cafe for a pop tart, which she ate cold before heading back to his floor.

As she stepped off the elevator, the nurse flagged her down. Kensi’s stomach sank and she thought she might be sick or faint as she rushed over to her.

“Agent Blye, Detective Deeks is awake,” she said, offering Kensi a smile.

“Oh my god,” Kensi whispered, pressing her hand over her mouth. “Is he ok? Did he say anything?”

“He’s conscious and responsive, but the doctor will need to examine him to know more,” she responded not unkindly. Kensi frowned at the vague answer and the nurse clarified, “It’s good news. Why don’t you go on in. Just remember to be gentle since he’s likely to be sensitive to light and sound.

“Of course. Thank you, Tamara.”

Kensi opened the door stepping into the dimmed room. Deeks turned his head, squinting at her through the slits of his eyes.

“Deeks,” she said, relieved to see him indeed conscious and apparently alert. “I’m so glad you’re awake. How do you feel?” She stopped at the side of his bed, resting a hand on his arm before removing it just as quickly.

He followed the movement with a confused frown. “Hi,” he said, voice throatier than usual. “I’ve been better. Have we met before? My memory’s a little shaky, but I’m pretty sure I’d, uh, remember a gorgeous brunette.”

Tilting her head, she gave him a measuring look, then folded her arms across her chest as she recalled the last time he’d been in a hospital bed. “Deeks, this isn’t funny. Stop messing around.”

“Believe me, I wish I was joking, but I don’t have any idea who you are,” he insisted.

“I’m Kensi. Kensi Blye,” she tried out of desperation. There wasn’t a hint of recognition in his eyes though. He stared back at her with a growing look of dismay, and licked his lips, lifting a hand to drag his hand through his hair before he apparently remembered it wasn’t a good idea.

“Well, this is new,” he muttered to himself. “I guess this explains why I can’t remember what I had for breakfast or my last case.”

He sounded so perfectly like her Deeks, his upper lip quirked in a half-smile as he stared up at her. He was as friendly as ever, but as he would be to a potential witness they met on the strange. Not his partner of three years.

She paced a few steps away, leaning against the nearest wall. “Ok, so what do you remember?”

Leaning his head back, he squinted as though the effort of thinking physically hurt. “Uh, my name is Martin A. Deeks. Most people call me Deeks, but some call me Marty. I am a public defender for the LA county court system and I like to surf,” he said, nodding as he said each point.

Kensi suddenly felt like her knees might give out, and she quickly grabbed onto the back of the chair next to her. Deeks hadn’t just forgotten her, but entire years of his life.

“Are you ok?” he asked, because of course even with a concussion and amnesia, he still picked up on her distress.

“Um yeah.” She awkwardly tugged on the hem of her shirt. How the hell did she break this kind of news to him. She supposed she could let his doctor handle it, but that seemed cruel. Not to mention, cowardly.

“I take it you know something I don’t. What exactly happened to me?”

Kensi inhaled deeply before she took the plunge. “Um, this is going to be difficult, but you were hit in the back of the head.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that out from the pounding headache and ostrich egg sized bump. What else?”

Suddenly standing felt to impersonal for this conversation, so she pulled the chair up to the side of his bed, sitting on the edge with her hands folded tightly in her lap.

“Deeks, you are not a lawyer. Well, you are, but you don’t practice anymore. You’re a detective with the LAPD,” she told him.

He took the revelation remarkably well, barely showing any reaction other than a slight widening of his eyes and flaring of his nostrils.

“Wow, ok. That’s, uh, that’s unexpected,” he said on a breathy laugh. “What year is it?”

“2012.”

“Crap,” he muttered, rubbing both hands over his face.

Kensi looked away, uncomfortable with his distress. She wanted to comfort him somehow, but they didn’t do that. At least she didn’t. She dealt comfort in stilted words and pulled punches. Besides that, Deeks didn’t remember her.

“So this absolutely isn’t an elaborate scheme?” she checked one more time out of sheer desperation.

“Fraid not,” Deeks drawled, rubbing his chin with his knuckles. “Though that would be significantly more fun than laying in a hospital bed recovering from a concussion. with nothing to go on from the last 6 years.”

“I feel like I should say touché or something.”

He gave her an odd look at that, then huffed another laugh, lowering his eyes to his lap. “I guess you do know me.” He scrutinized her for a few seconds, squinting with obvious effort before he made a pained expression. “Are you a cop too?”

“I’m a federal agent.”

“Based on the fact that you’re talking to me, I’d guess I either did some really bad, or I work with you in some capacity,” he said. Of course his mind worked just as quickly as ever.

“You’re a liaison for my agency,” Kensi told him. “And we’ve been partners for the last three years.”

“Oh.” He blinked a couple times. “That’s unexpected.”

“Why?” It came out a little more defensively than she intended.

“I tend to get on people’s nerves. They say I talk too much, or it’s my hair,” he explained, then added with a touch of bitterness. “Or I don’t know how to leave well-enough alone. I’m a trouble-maker.”

It sounded like he was quoting someone, and Kensi winced a little at the memory of how she and the rest of the team had treated him his first several months.

“Well, it was kind of a rocky start,” she admitted. “But I have a pretty strong personality too.”

“That sounds like a story waiting to be told.” He shifted uncomfortably, squinting again. He looked paler than when she’d walked in.

“Maybe for another day.”

They were both silent for a few minutes, with Deeks looking increasingly less well. Eventually, he sighed, pushing himself up on his forearms.

“Can you help me get up?” he asked.

“I think you should wait until your doctor sees you. You probably have a serious concussion.”

“I want to see what I look like.”

“Don’t you think that can wait?” she said, completely perplexed by the unexpected request.

“Right now I’m working with the Marty Deeks of 2006. A lot could have changed since then,” he explained, shifting around with the obvious intent to get up with or without her help.

Giving a perturbed sigh, Kensi held up a hand before he could try to get out of bed himself. “Let me go ask a nurse if I can borrow one. And don’t even think of leaving that bed.” She gave him a severe look that hopefully had more effect than on an unconcussed Deeks.

It took a few minutes, but with the combination of her badge and the mention of Deeks—who apparently was popular from his previous stays—Kensi returned with a small hand mirror. Fortunately, she found him still in bed when she returned.

He had a small furrow between his eyebrows, his head turned towards the wall. Kensi faltered, once again unsure how to proceed. Last time Deeks was in the hospital, they’d had catching his shooter to focus on. Now, the way forward seemed far more nebulous.

“I’ve got the mirror,” she murmured. His head jerked at her voice, and he ran a hand over his face before turning to face her. She handed him the mirror wordlessly, watching as he positioned it in front of his face.

“Huh.”

“Not what you expected?” she asked, and he shrugged, eyes shifting back and forth.

“I guess I finally ditched the baby face,” he commented wryly. “Or maybe it’s just the beard.” He touched his jaw almost absentmindedly. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”

“Somehow I can’t picture you without a beard,” Kensi admitted. He’d always had some facial hair as long as she’d known him.

“Yeah. Shoulder length hair too.” Now his hand drifted to the matted hair at his cheek. “I’ve had it pretty long most of my life, but I grew it out in college and I keep it out of principal. Or I guess kept.”

His eyes took on that distant look again and Kensi guessed the full weight of the situation had finally hit him.

“Well, you can always grow it out again. If you want.”

He shook his head slightly in response. “I’m not sure it would fit anymore,” he murmured.

“Deeks, I—”

A firm knock on the door interrupted Kensi, though she had no idea what she would have said in an attempt to reassure him.

“Mr. Deeks, I hear you’ve rejoined the waking world,” his attending doctor, Dr. Lesley said. She nodded to Kensi before focusing her attention on Deeks again.

“Yeah. It’s been a wild ride so far,” he responded dryly.

“I’ll let you have a few minutes,” Kensi told him, hurrying out. Maybe she was a coward, but she couldn’t sit through Deeks finding out the full extent of his amnesia.

She headed for a restroom, locking herself inside. In the tiny room, she sank to the ground, and quietly sobbed, mourning the loss of everything she and Deeks had shared.

***

A/N: Part 2 to follow soon.

[densi-mber]

The Shards of Me

A/N: Set during episode 5x01, Ascension. I’m not sure this is the most angsty thing I’ve ever written, but I’m partial to writing about this storyline. Given the episode, it’s also quite whumpy. Enjoy!

***

People surround him, roughly transferring him to a bed. Deeks inhales sharply and he inadvertently clenches his teeth, resulting in a sharper spike of pain throughout his jaw and head amidst the constant agony. The noises and sound of people shouting around him are reduced to a faint buzz, then flare as loud as if someone is using a bullhorn.

Everything is pain.

He’s aware of Kensi and Granger in the room, Sam beside him on another narrow bed.

A doctor demands he open his mouth, rough and matter-of-fact in his urgency, and Deeks refuses, clenching his jaw even tighter. He hits at the hands that try to restrain him, acting on instinct, fighting back now that he can.

He spits out another mouthful of blood. Everything smells and tastes of it. It makes his stomach heave.

“Back off, give him a minute,” Sam says and they finally stop touching him.

Then suddenly Kensi’s next to him, gripping his hand. His savior and distraction during Sidorov’s endless torture. He wants her to never let go, and can barely stand her touch.

He inhales shallowly, teeth still clenched despite the overwhelming pain.

“Deeks, you have to listen to the doctor.” He barely hears her plea, can’t look at her, can’t focus on anything beyond ensuring no one else hurts him.

For a second, he hears Sidorov’s taunts in his head, and swears the man is here in the room with him. Glancing around wildly, Deeks catches Sam’s eyes and sees the pain, the fear, but above all else, understanding.

It’s just the two of them for a moment, recognizing the other’s pain, the absolute horror of it all. He thinks he sees Sam nod, reassuring him, even as he struggles for breath.

Then someone grabs his arm, he feels a sharp jab, and no amount of struggling can keep him from slipping into darkness. He fights itthough. He fights to stay awake, to have some semblance of control, right until the last moment of consciousness.

***

“Tell me the truth, Detective. Who is Quinn working for?”

The drill whirs again, descending towards Deeks’ mouth again and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. Deeks flinches, even though there’s no where to go. Sidorov has made sure of that. The brief reprieve was not nearly long enough, and it’s almost worse as the metal bites into flesh and tooth again.

And he screams.

Deeks wakes in a hazy state of confusion, not sure what’s real. His throat is raw from screaming and he can’t breathe. He closes his eyes, Sidorov, Sam, Michelle…Kensi, all of it coming back in sharp fragments that make him shake.

When he opens his eyes again, he’s aware enough to realize he’s alone and in a hospital room.

Right, the emergency room. His hands quake, and he grabs onto the tiny tray in front of him in a desperate search for stability. He notices the IV in his right hand then, and briefly considers pulling it out. The thought of anything sharp right now makes his heart pound, threatens to send him back over the edge into the waking nightmare of his memories.

In desperation, Deeks feels for his face, for anything to ground him, to distract from those memories. His cheek is swollen; he follows it down to his jaw, hissing at the pain caused by the lightest of touches. His mouth still has the tang of blood. At least he isn’t nearly drowning in it anymore, thanks to the cotton pads he feels jammed inside his cheeks.

Whatever they gave him must have worn off because everything hurts.

Something outside his door crashes, and he scrambles backwards, heartbeat instantly racing, the smell of motor oil in his nose, a drill whirring in his ear as the machines around him sound off in alarm.

Head falling back, Deeks gasps, each breath bringing a fresh wave of pain.

He has never felt so broken.

[typingtess]

Deeks was happy to have his semi-private room. The Recovery Room wasn’t restful. Or a room. It was a half the hospital floor with dividers between the patients.

The kid in the next bay had a reaction to the anesthesia. After his third “I think I’m going to be sick,” his parents flagged down a nurse as the young man filled the trash pail. Deeks wondered why the kid kept saying “I think I’m going to be sick.” He was throwing up with reasonable regularity – no reason to couch it with “I think” every time.

Deeks felt exposed in the Recovery Room. Gun or no gun, he was sitting in bed attached to monitors and IVs. If he needed to move, he was not in the best position to get started. He had his exit planned. The door was two bays over – puking kid side – and a second one behind the nurses’ station. Years of undercover work meant knowing your exits as soon as you entered a room.

Of course, that only worked if he saw the shooter before the shooter saw him. Kensi was checking everyone’s IDs and was good with her weapon but this morning had him a little on edge. Getting shot would do that to a person.

When Kensi got back, Deeks wanted to call Frank at the mini-mart. Apologize for making a mess, ask if Frank was doing OK. He liked Frank – the man didn’t need to be terrorized by some gunman that seemed to be waiting for him.

Also when Kensi got back, she’d have a list of people who wouldn’t mind seeing him dead. There are a few but the one who was front of mind was someone he wasn’t interested in anyone knowing about. Figured Hetty knew, she seemed to know everything, but the team didn’t need to know. Outside of his Mom, some of the people in his old neighborhood and a few guys in high school who figured out Google early, nobody really knew.

He hoped to keep it that way.

If he lived long enough to be discharged.

NCIS: LA S02E17

[anonkp]

5 things you might find in my fics

Thanks for tagging me, @ejzah.

Angst

Angst with hurt/comfort

Whump with a side of angst

Deeks clenching his jaw or blowing out a breath

Deeks finding a family and/or finding peace

I'll tag @psyched1328 and anyone else who wants to play.

[bluenet13]

5, 4, 3, 2, 1

Rules: post the top 5 works you’re most proud of that you released in 2022 (not necessarily your most popular), your top 4 current WIPs that you’re excited to release in the new year, your top 3 biggest improvements in your writing over the past year, your top 2 resolutions (ways you wish to improve your writing/blog) for the new year, and your number 1 favorite line you’ve written this year!

Thanks @chicgeekgirl89 for the tag!

5 Works

The lightnin' in my heart makes it worth it: My first Rookie story and what I hope is the first of many. Chenford stole my heart and I had the best time writing them. I also love every single character on the show and had a lot of fun writing them ganging up on poor Tim.

Silhouettes with no regrets: Heartstopper is one of my favorite stories and I loved writing a Tarlos fic inspired by the show. I really like the balance it has between my usual angst, emotional moments between the boys and more romance than I've ever written.

A Partner's Always Got Your Back + A Friend's Always Got Your Back: Two fics that could be a first and second chapter of the same fic; hence, why I added them both. This was my first time writing from a perspective other than Tarlos and I had so much fun. I love Nancy and I really enjoyed getting inside her head, and showing her sass, how badass she is, and how good a friend she is to her partner and Carlos.

The Green and Brown of Each Other’s Eyes: This one is also very special and easily one of my favorite fics I've ever written. I loved filling in the blanks of various show moments and showing in my own way the growth and evolution of TK and Carlos' relationship. It has some of my favorite lines ever and I just loved exploring Tarlos and sprinkling little parts of myself within their story.

Surrounded by Love: My father passed away in 2020 and I wrote this fic about TK dealing with the passing of his mother in honor of that storyline and my favorite character, and as a tribute to my father and my own grief. It's very personal and very special and easily my #1 favorite.

4 WIPS

The Courthouse fic: Tarlos, Nancy and Tommy + Owen and Gabriel at court when a bad guy breaks out; what could possibly go wrong? Been working on this one on and off since 2021 and it rarely cooperates. I started working on it last week again and might have figured out how to make it work for a bingo square but we will see.

Domestic Abuse: A NCISLA bingo square where Deeks suspects his neighbor is a victim of domestic abuse. My typical angst with some of my 'humor' in between.

A The Rookie fic of Chenford's first Valentine's Day together since they started dating.

An earthquake fic for my 'Natural Disaster' bingo square that I haven't started. Not sure yet if I want it to be for The Rookie and Chenford, or Lone Star and Tarlos.

3 Biggest Improvements

Better integrating my dialogue with the descriptions of what the characters are doing and what's happening around them.

I used to be very much an introspective writer and I spent a lot of time getting inside character's head and doing descriptions. Now I feel more comfortable writing dialogue and incorporating more characters into my fics.

I used to think I could only write fic for NCISLA and even that was mostly a fluke. I've now written for 8 fandoms and have learned to see I'm a good enough writer in my own way. I see how happy writing makes me and now that, for better or worse, it's probably going to be a part of my life forever.

2 Resolutions

Writing consistently: I wrote 13 fics in 2022. 12 in between January and May, and 1 in December. Enough said lol.

I want to get better at adding humor and romance into my fics. I love whump and angst but want to feel as comfortable writing other emotions and different types of scenes as I do with those two.

1 Favorite Line

From Can You Feel It?

Sitting back down on the chair with a sigh, Carlos grabs TK's hand again and sets it on his chest, over his heart. "Can you feel it?" he asks his ex-boyfriend. "Can you feel it beating for the both of us?"

Tagging @wanna-be-bold @ejzah @ravens-words

[ao3feed-ncislosangeles]

Whump Time 5

by OPSManager Yup, you've guessed it. Year number 5 for me for doing this event! Hope you enjoy this latest round of whumpy one shots Words: 346, Chapters: 1/5, Language: English Fandoms: NCIS: Los Angeles Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M, Gen Characters: Hetty Lange, Owen Granger, G Callen, Sam Hanna, Marty Deeks, Eric Beale, Nate Getz Relationships: Owen Granger/Hetty Lange, G Callen & Hetty Lange Additional Tags: Whumptober 2024, Team as Family, Canon-Typical Violence, Minor Violence, Humor, Drama, Loneliness, Swearing via https://ift.tt/6GLCkTv

[chicgeekgirl89]

Country Roads, Take Me Home: Chap. 6

Fandom: NCIS LA

Characters: Marty Deeks, Kensi Blye, Eric Beale, Nell Jones, Sam Hanna, G Callen

Read Chapters 1-5 Here

A/N: Shouts out to @bluenet13 who made me finish this fic! 

                                XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Whoa,” Kensi said, putting her hands up. “Bill, what’s going on?”

“Well that’s a question I think we’d like you to answer,” Bill said kindly. “Is there a reason you and Marty were poking around here earlier?”

Kensi chose her next words carefully. “I’m not sure what you’re talking about. We stopped by to see if you were home.”

“I think we both know you did a little more than that,” Bill said. “Mighta seen some things we didn’t mean for you to see.”

“Bill, I’m not sure what you think is going on here, but let’s go back outside and see if we can sort it out.”

“Works for me. Carol’ll want to hear this I’m sure.”

Kensi moved carefully past him and walked to the front of the RV. When she stepped outside she found Carol still sitting at the picnic table with Deeks. But Deeks had his head on the table and seemed off. “Babe? You okay?” Kensi asked loudly, careful not to make any sudden movements. 

“He’s a little sleepy dear,” Carol said. “I think that port really did him in!”

“Okay, what’s going on here?” Kensi asked, worry spiraling through her. Deeks owned a bar, the man could definitely hold his liquor and one glass of port shouldn’t have him face first in his desert. 

“Remember how we told you that you have to keep things fun as you get older?” Bill said. “Well Carol and I started this road trip and thought we needed a little action. Something to spice it up.”

“So you committed a robbery,” Kensi said.

“Well just a tiny one,” Carol said. “But it was so easy. So we went bigger.”

Kensi was trying to listen while also keeping her eyes on Deeks. He was stirring but seemed lethargic. “Did you drug my husband?” she asked incredulously.

“Just a little bit,” Carol said, patting him gently on the back. “If you’d just drunk yours like you were supposed to we wouldn’t even be having this conversation.”

“You were going to drug us and then drive away,” Kensi said. “Deeks was right.”

“See, I told you they were getting suspicious,” Bill said.

“You called it dear,” Carol said with a sigh. “I should have listened to you.”

“And I should have listened to Deeks,” Kensi muttered. 

“Kens?” Deeks slurred, lifting his head a bit.

“I’m here babe. You okay?”

“I….think ‘m drgged,” he said, eyes glassy and unfocused.

“Yeah you are,” Kensi said. “Just take some deep breaths okay?”

Deeks squinted up. “Dss he havea gn?” 

“Yes, he does,” Kensi said. “So we’re just going to behave and not cause any problems, all right?”

“He prbly cn’ evn use it,” Deeks mumbled.

“Hey, I am the reigning, three time rifle champion of Sheboygan!” Bill said indignantly.

“Of course you are,” Kensi said with a sigh of long suffering.

“Well, now that plan A is all used up, we need to move onto plan B,” Carol said. “I think a little walk is in order. Take in some of that fresh mountain air!”

It was past dusk and most people had retreated indoors for the evening. The few that were out were laughing and chatting and took no notice of the strange parade walking by them. Not that Kensi would have asked for help anyway. There were weapons involved now and she wasn’t interested in getting any civilians shot.

She held Deeks up as they walked, stumbling along over the rocky terrain. He seemed to be all right, if uncoordinated and a little confused. “Wre we gng?” he asked repeatedly.

“Just for a little walk dearie,” Carol said every time, patiently, as if she were talking to a five year old.

“How did you get past the security cameras?” Kensi asked. 

“Oh we just bypassed the feed and spliced in a loop of footage,” Bill said. 

“It’s so easy, our grandson taught us. He’s nine, very bright boy,” Carol said fondly.

“Got a little trickier when it was closed circuit but we figured it out,” Bill said. He’d traded his rifle for a slightly more inconspicuous pistol, another reason no passerby had noticed something off.

“So what’s the plan here?” Kensi asked as they moved further out into the plains. “Shoot us and leave us for dead?”

“Darling don’t be gauche!” Carol said, horrified. “No, we’re going to tie you up. Someone will come along eventually.”

“f we don’t get etn by wlvs first,” Deeks said, coming around enough to be present in the conversation. 

“No wolves in this part of the country,” Bill grunted. “Coyotes’ll get you though.”

They walked for several miles before Bill made them stop. And of course he knew how to  tie knots like a boy scout. “There,” he said after he tightened the last one around Kensi’s wrists. “That oughta do nicely.”

Kensi sent him a pointed glare as Deeks’ head lolled against her shoulder. “Now, you two sit tight,” Carol said sweetly. “You’ll be found by morning.”

“And we’ll be long gone. It really was a pleasure meeting you,” Bill said.

“It was nt ours,” Deeks said, rolling his eyes up into what he apparently thought was an angry scowl but looked more like a fish face.

“No more vacations,” Kensi said, when Bill and Carol were out of earshot. “None. No road trips, no cruises, no flights. Nothing. Home. A dark room. No visitors.”

She worked furiously at the knot in her hands. “Deeks, hey, come on. I need you to wake up and help me here.”

“m wake,” Deeks said, hefting himself off her shoulder.

“The knife in my boot. I need you to get it.”

His current lack of coordination and awareness made things tricky. He ended up with his head in her lap, sliding down along her legs until his hands found her boot. It took several minutes and a lot of awkward maneuvering to retrieve the knife and then another several minutes before he was able to get it into Kensi’s hands.

In no time she had them free and then went to work on her ankles before moving onto Deeks’ bindings. “This was not the kind of tying up I had in mind on this vacation,” Deeks grumbled as she split apart his ankles.

“Now’s not really the time babe. Can you stand?”

“Everything’s a little wobbly,” he said.

She cupped his face and tried to see into his eyes but it was too dark, even with the full moon out. “Well your speech sounds better. Come on. We’ve got a long walk back. And the Weekes’ have at least a forty minute head start.”

She didn’t mention that it would have been a significantly shorter walk if he’d been less drugged. She pulled him to his feet, sliding an arm under his shoulder to help him balance, and off they went, stumbling through the darkness in the direction of what Kensi thought was the campsite.

It was nearing on two in the morning now and they were still nowhere near their destination, when Deeks froze, causing her to stumble. “Deeks, what—“

He dropped to his knees and puked. “Oh god,” he gasped, wiping his mouth. “I hate being roofied.”

“Yeah, I don’t blame you,” Kensi said, putting a hand on his back. “You good or is there more?”

“Help me up,” he said as she hauled him to his feet once again. “Wait.”

They both froze. “What?” Kensi asked.

“I thought I heard something,” Deeks said, squinting to try and see in the moonlight.

Then they both heard it. Hoofbeats. Coming fast. “Is that—“

“Buffalo!” Deeks yelled.

There was an outcropping of rocks silhouetted up ahead and they ran for it, hoofbeats still pounding behind them.

They made it to the outcropping just in time, collapsing against the stones, breathless. “Oh god,” Kensi gasped. “I didn’t know buffalo could run that fast.”

“Neither did we.”

Kensi and Deeks both jumped as they realized that they had once again been reunited with their road trip pals turned hostage takers. And they both looked a little worse for wear.

Carol’s hair was a mess and her knees looked like she’d taken a tumble. Bill was bleeding badly from a wound in his arm. “How did you get free?” Bill asked. “I made those knots tighter than a footballer’s shoelaces.”

“I’m a federal agent,” Kensi said. “And he’s an LAPD detective.”

“No kidding!” Bill said with a chuckle. “Well how ‘bout that Carol. We got the best of an FBI agent and a police officer.”

“I’m not FB—-never mind,” Kensi said with a roll of her eyes. “Let me see your arm.”

“We were just walking back and they came out of nowhere,” Carol said. “I wanted to get a picture of them with my iPhone but it was so dark so we got closer and they just came charging right at us!”

“Yeah well, buffalo don’t really like other people,” Deeks said.

“This looks really bad,” Kensi said. “I think you hit an artery.”

“What does that mean?” Bill asked.

“It means you’re going to die if we don’t get you some help fast,” Deeks said.

“Well how are we going to do that?” Carol asked worriedly. 

“We have a lot of connections,” Kensi said, looking meaningfully at Deeks. “If you give us your cellphone AND the pistol, we can probably help.”

“Well what if we just call 911?” Bill asked.

“They might show up in time, they might not,” Deeks said. “Up to you. You might only lose the arm.”

“Lose my arm?!” Bill cried. “This is my shooting arm!”

“Like we said, it’s up to you,” Kensi said. “Phone. Gun. Or no deal.”

“Bill give them the gun!” Carol said. “Here.” She handed Kensi her phone. “Please you have to help him.”

“Gun,” Kensi said, holding out her other hand. 

“Take care of her,” Bill said. “That’s my best pistol right there.”

“Yeah, I’m sure it is,” Kensi said with a roll of her eyes, handing it to Deeks who immediately emptied the chamber and flung the bullets as far as he could. 

Kensi ripped off a portion of the bottom of her shirt and used it to tie up the wound while Deeks dialed. “Reggie, hey, it’s Deeks. I need a helicopter.”

It was less than twenty minutes before a chopper swooped down and landed in the middle of the plains, scaring the buffalo away and allowing Kensi, Deeks, and the Weekes’ to escape from their rocky prison. Two EMT’s jumped out and hustled toward them. “Please help my husband,” Carol said worriedly. “He’s bleeding out.”

They peeled back Kensi’s makeshift bandage and frowned. “Looks like the bleeding’s stopped. Might need a couple stitches, but your husband will be fine ma’am.”

“I will?” Bill asked, turning to look at Kensi. “But you said—“

Kensi shrugged. “You took us hostage. What did you expect?”

“Now wait just a minute!” Carol said, looking irate as an officer cuffed her. 

“No thanks,” Deeks said leaning heavily against Kensi.

“Hey, I do need you to take a look at my husband,” Kensi said to the second EMT. “They drugged him with something.”

“Oh it was just a little Benadryl,” Carol called. “Nothing dangerous.”

“I thought that port tasted awfully sweet,” Deeks said, swaying a bit.

“Even so, Benadryl and alcohol don’t mix. We need to get you checked out,” the EMT said.

It was not a fun helicopter ride. Bill and Carol chattered away the entire time, as if they weren’t about to be arrested for grand larceny and kidnapping. Deeks had rallied enviably toward the end of their walk but now he slumped against the seat, eyes closed, fingers pinching the bridge of his nose.

Things got fractionally better when they arrived at the hospital. Bill and Carol were taken away, cuffed, into police custody, but that was where the relief ended. The police wanted statements from both Kensi and Deeks, not once, not twice, but three separate times and no amount of pointing out that they worked for NCIS was going to shake the local PD who were having the most exciting night of their lives in about ten years.

They did give Deeks a look over at the hospital and decided at this point it was best to just let things run their course. He was still a little confused and a lot tired by the time local PD drove them back to the RV park.

“I want a shower,” Kensi said as she got out of the car and pulled Deeks with her.

“I want a nap,” he said as she unlocked the door.

“And where have you two been?” someone asked.

“Oh god!” Kensi yelled, clutching a hand to her chest as she realized there were people sitting at their table.

Eric and Nell were looking at them in a very parental fashion.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Deeks asked. 

“Um, you two were obviously in trouble so we borrowed an old Airstream from my parents,” Nell said. “We got in about an hour ago. You want to tell us about the little adventure you clearly just had?”

Deeks and Kensi exchanged a look. “Let’s just say it involved a herd of bison, a demon dog, and a drugging incident,” Kensi said.

“You were drugged?!” Eric asked.

“Oh my god are you okay?” Nell added.

“Not me,” Kensi said.

Eric shook his head wide eyed. “Callen and Sam aren’t going to like that.”

“Well Callen and Sam don’t have to know,” Kensi said. “That’s why we called you Eric.”

Eric and Nell exchanged a slightly guilty look. “What?” Deeks asked. “You told them already?”

The RV door opened behind them and voices trickled in. “It will be fine. There’s plenty of space for both of us.”

“Have you seen yourself? You’re the size of a small building. There’s no way we can both fit in that tent.”

“You brought them with you?!” Kensi asked.

“Brought is a strong word,” Eric said. “Followed a direct order is more accurate.”

What had initially seemed like a spacious RV now seemed suffocatingly small. “Hey you’re back!” Callen said as he and Sam came inside. “Everything okay?”

“It is now,” Deeks said, running a hand through his hair. “What are you all doing here?”

“We’re making sure you’re all right,” Sam said. “Did you think we wouldn’t find out about that emergency call you made last night?”

“But the call wasn’t to you,” Kensi said in exasperation.

“We still found out,” Callen said. 

“I have alerts set for everyone,” Eric said, as if it should have been extremely obvious.

“Well we don’t need you, everything is under control,” Deeks said.

“Doesn’t matter,” Sam said. “We’re staying.”

“Not in here you’re not,” Kensi told them.

“Oh no, of course not,” Nell said quickly. “No Eric and I will be in the Airstream.”

“And Sam and I are camping,” Callen said. “In a tent. The size of matchbox.”

“That tent has plenty of space!” Sam growled.

“Okay then, if you all don’t mind, we’d like to take a nap since we’ve been up all night,” Deeks said.

“Oh, sure of course, go right ahead,” Eric said.

Nobody left. Callen and Sam immediately dissolved into an argument about whether they were going fishing or hiking first, as Kensi and Deeks slowly made their way to the bed at the back of the RV. “I’m telling you, it doesn’t compare to the ocean,” Sam protested.

“How would you know?” Callen fired back. “Have you ever tried it? Not everything has to be a deep sea, Navy SEAL diving adventure you know.”

“I think we should hit up Glacier Point,” Nell said, studying the map Deeks had left on the table. “Ooh but the Cathedral Rocks look great too.”

“Is anybody getting a good signal out here?” Eric held his phone up high, forehead wrinkled in frustration. 

Deeks looked wryly at Kensi. “Is this what it’s going to be like to have kids?”

“Probably.” She shook her head. “But when they’re actually our kids, we leave them at home with a babysitter.”