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ejzah · 21 days ago

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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.

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #free ride #Deeks whump #hurt/comfort #angst #au #blunt force #part 2 #ejzah fanfiction

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ejzah · 25 days ago

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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.

#ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #free ride #au #Deeks whump #whumptober #angst #ejzah fanfiction

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