I'm not sure where this came from. I woke up wanting to write so I opened a word document and this is what came out. I mostly did it for myself, and like many other things didn't intend to post it. But who knows, someone might like it, so here I am.

*Warning for mentions of domestic abuse*

Shelter

1989

Face still smeared by the trace of tears, blue eyes standing out among the bruises on his face, and body still shaking, the blonde boy gingerly walked down the stairs and into the living room of what was left of his fractured home.

Broken glass, empty beer bottles and broken furniture littered the ground, and the little boy jumped as his bare, left foot stepped on a destroyed picture frame, drawing blood and making his foot sting. Quick hops until he reached the kitchen, he grabbed a paper towel and wrapped the wound, a futile and innocent attempt not to stain the house with new crimson colors.

Moving back to the living room, the boy walked towards the offending object and with still trembling hands, lowered himself onto the ground to pick up the remainders of the happy memory. Ocean at their backs, blonde hair flowing in the wind, and blue eyes sparkling with the sun – mother, father and son stood in front of the camera. Little boy in his father's arms, mother snuggled under her husband's other arm, and happiness evident on their smiling faces.

His eyes filled with new tears as he stared at the photograph, little pieces of glass still sticking to its surface, and the blue frame that had sheltered it, broken on the ground.

A scream making the boy jump, and the old photograph back on the ground. Quick looks to each side, and a relieved sigh at not finding anyone there. It had only been an echo, a trick of his mind. A memory of the chaos that had just happened… A human hurricane wreaking havoc on an otherwise peaceful household, mother and son beaten to the ground, and then mother and father going back to sleep in the same room, and sharing the same bed. It had just been an illusion. Just like his family, his parent's marriage, and the joyful life of the ten year old.

It took the boy a few seconds to remember why he had decided to take this trip to the living room, instead of staying in the safety of his room. Which was only safe because his father had drank himself to sleep, making the dangerous journey a little less dangerous, at least for this one night. More memories coming to his mind – of his father finding him awake, or waking him up with violence in the air, past injuries, crimson, diminishing lights and darkness, waking up alone on the ground, his mother's sobs, dreams of a future or an escape, and ultimately, of a savior and safe haven that sadly never came.

The boy shook his head, blonde and messy curls landing on his eyes. He had to keep his mind on the present, on the task at hand, and stop his brain from going on any of its weird tangents. Moving as best as he could, and trying not to aggravate his injured ribs more, or put too much pressure on his wounded foot, the boy moved broken furniture around, as he searched.

The task was difficult, and after a few minutes the boy lowered himself onto the ground and rested his back on the overturned couch. He was small for his age, making it hard for him to look around all the broken pieces of his life. The injuries also didn't help. And neither did the fear, of making noise, of waking up his now sleeping father, and bringing the nightmare back to his world.

"This one, daddy." The boy giggled as he pointed to a shiny necklace on the counter. "She's gonna love it." A smile on his face, blue eyes reflecting the metal of the simple piece, and a heart full of the love given to him by his parents.

"Are you sure, Martin? We can keep looking until we find the perfect one." Father responded, as he moved his hand to brush his son's already long curls away from his eyes, while silently wondering how much of the display the boy could even see with his hair always obscuring half his vision. He then laughed to himself as he brushed his own hair from his eyes. Like father, like son, he thought with a smile as he kissed his son and hugged him a little closer.

"Yes, daddy. I'm sure. Now let's go, to the car, and the park, and then dinner, and maybe to buy some flowers, and chocolate. Yes! Definitely chocolate." The words all came rushing out without a single breath in between, as the young boy pulled his father's hand behind him and towards the store's front door.

"Wait, Martin. I still need to pay." Father said with another laugh as he handed the cashier his credit card. He then turned around to stare at his son jumping up and down as he looked out the window of the store, always impatient, and wanting to keep moving forward. Receiving his credit card and recently wrapped gift, he took his son's hand on his own and left the store. Door closing behind the pair, and store's owner left thinking of how lucky the mother must feel…

Boy startled awake, knocking a lamp down, and making his young mind instantly go into panic mode. He quickly stood up, hand on his mouth to muffle his pained scream, at the sudden pain that came with the rushed movement. He waited, rooted to the ground and body beginning to shake again as he waited for his angry father to come strutting down to teach him another lesson. After a few minutes passed, and nothing happened, he allowed himself a happy sigh, shoulders that had previously been tensed, finally releasing the stress, and heart going back to beat at its normal rate.

With new conviction on his mind, thanks to his dreamed memory, the boy returned to his search. This time, looking and looking, and never stopping to rest, not wanting to risk falling asleep again. After what felt like forever, the boy considered giving up, he had looked everywhere but he couldn't find it anywhere. Lowering himself back onto the ground, and new tears flowing down his face, the boy grabbed a cushion so he could muffle his sobs. He felt like a failure, the worthless boy his father always referred to, unable to complete just a small task.

Feeling no more reason to stay upright, he allowed for his remaining strength to give in. Tired body sliding down onto the floor until his check rested on the cold floor, a small piece of glass cutting his skin, but the boy too tired to care now.

It was a few minutes later when, in between a curtain of tears, he saw a shining chain under a bookcase. Not caring about his injuries, the boy jumped from the ground and in a childlike crawl moved towards the object, reaching a hand until he felt it safely in his fingers. He then got up as his previously sad tears turned joyful and relieved.

Knowing this part of his mission was over, and feeling better than before, the young boy turned off the light, and started going up the stairs. Reaching the top, he turned around and looked down at the living room bathed in the new light of sunrise – one hand tightly holding the broken chain, the other one brushing the blood from his cheek, and determination growing inside of him.

A few minutes later, safely back on his room, the boy moved inside his closet and sat down on the ground. With a little effort, he lifted a wood board off the floor and lowered his hand inside. A little box came out, containing a photograph, a toy train and an old CD given by his father in what felt like a past life. A few minutes later, the box went back safely inside. The wood board placed protectively back on top and the mission now completed.

Looking up at the ceiling of his room, Marty Deeks finally closed his eyes for the night. Feeling exhausted and in pain, but also happy. Because his personal battle had been won, and the chain was now safely inside his little box.

-x-x-x-

2018

Friday, May 11th and the grown up man traveled down a road he hadn't seen in almost 30 years. Car slowing down as he approached the house, and fear increasing in his heart. A hand reached from the passenger's side and held tightly to his own. His always supporting fiancé next to him, providing the light and peace he had desperately needed all his life.

Putting the car in park, the man lowered his head to rest on the steering wheel, as he closed his eyes and let the memories run free. Playing catch on the yard, sitting on the front porch, helping his parents get the groceries inside the house, playing with the garden hose on hot summer days, running home from school to spend the afternoon listening to music with his father, helping his mother cook dinner, and going to bed in his parent's embrace… Then came the day everything changed, and new, painful memories invaded his mind. A fist and a kick, wounds and broken bones, tears and blood, sobs and screams.

Familiar fingers running through his hair, brought the man back to the present, and helped him gather the courage to step outside of the car. A kiss on the lips, a supporting hug and a promise that everything would be alright, and the man was gingerly walking up the stairs and onto the front door.

He knew the building had been empty for many years, abandoned by the family after the worst night of his life, and never again able to house a happy household. No family staying more than a year. And apparently, the sins of the past, forever remaining like a shadow over the house. Old demons running around, and never letting happy children do the same.

Door opening and breathe catching on his throat. Broken furniture, empty beer bottles, broken picture frames… He shook his head to rid himself of the past and instead focused on the unlit living room, covered in dust and the stairs that loomed at the end of the hall.

Shaky footsteps and an echo of pain on his left foot, the man slowly moved fully inside the house and went up the stairs. Each step bringing a new memory, and unshed tears beginning to shine on his darkened, blue eyes. Moving quickly to the room on the right, the man opened the door to his childhood bedroom, and rushed inside, closing the door quickly behind him. As if the old demons could still catch him.

Sitting inside the closet, the man smiled as he noticed the loose board in wooden floor, and with an easiness that he didn't remember from his last time in there, moved the board away and reached his hand inside. The box that looked smaller than ever before came out, and the man opened it to find the old picture, toy train and CD still inside. Other small items he had deposited in the months that followed that night were also inside, and among them all, stood the most important of all.

A few minutes later, the man stood up and walked back inside the room, the wood board remaining to the side, the safety of its confines not needed anymore. He turned his sight upwards to stare at the ceiling, remembering how far away it had looked when he had been 10 years old and gaining clarity of how far he had come from those days.

Reaching the stairs again, he looked down at the living room enclosed in darkness, and with only a path of light coming from the open door – one hand tightly inside his pocket, holding to the chain, the other closed around the little box, and the determination that had been born that night almost 30 years ago, still inside of him.

Looking out the window towards the vacant home, Marty Deeks finally, and truly opened his eyes for the day. Feeling his previous hesitance and sadness dissipate, and happiness taking its place. Because a new battle had just begun, and from the nightmares of the past a new dream had just been born. Feeling the chain safely inside his pocket, he reached a hand to Kensi, and began driving away.

-x-x-x-

On mother's day, the man drove his fiancé to his future mother-in-law's house, before leaving in the direction of his own mother's home, and with a promise to be back in the afternoon for a joined dinner between the two reunited mother and son pairs.

Parking on the front street, and going up the stairs, the man knock on the door and smiled as his mother welcomed him inside.

"Happy mother's day, mama." Deeks said and followed his statement with a kiss. "Are you ready to leave?" He asked, always the same impatient boy, eager to keep moving forward.

"Thank you, Martin. And yes, but where is it that we're going?" Roberta asked with raised eyebrows, still surprised that her usually avoiding son had decided to call on his own, and with plans for the day.

Smiling and eyes sparkling, the man just moved to the door, and waited for his mama to follow. Mother knowing she wouldn't get a response, just grabbed her purse and followed.

A few minutes later, the pair parked the car in one of the few available spots and stepped outside. The oceanic breeze making, their equally blonde hairs, flow with the wind.

"What are we doing here, Martin?" Roberta inquired as she instantly recognized the location they were at. And a sign with the words Point Fermin Park confirming her memory.

As he had done in her house, Deeks just started walking, knowing his mama will just follow.

It took them a few minutes to reach the lighthouse, and for Roberta's mind to be invaded by old memories. She shook her head and turned to stare at her son with confusion in her eyes. They hadn't been back here in almost 30 years.

"Sit, mama?" Deeks patted the rocky surface as he himself sat on the area overlooking the Pacific below. The sounds of waves crashing on rocks, seagulls singing high above and breeze whistling past, transporting mother and son back to the past.

"Martin?" Roberta prompted, after a few minutes of silence.

Deeks' response came in the form of a small box he took out from his messenger bag, and which he placed on the space between them.

With a little hesitance present in her eyes, and hand slightly shaking, Roberta grabbed the familiar box and untied the pink bow that kept it closed. Lifting the lid, and dumping the contents on her hand, her eyes instantly filled with tears at the chain that now rested on her hand. Her first thought was that it was a replica, but taking notice of the fixed link at the end of the chain, and small crimson spot next to it, she sighed deeply, as she realized it was the original.

"How?" Was the only question that came out, as the tears continued to flow freely down her face and she continued to stare at the necklace she thought she had lost 29 years ago. It was a simple silver chain that came together in a lonely pendant – A mother elephant, followed by her baby. It had been Gordon and Marty's gift for Mother's day when her baby boy had been 5, and one she had last seen 5 years later when Gordon had yanked it away from her neck, leaving angry red marks in its wake, and the heartbreaking realization that the violence she had thought was a one-time thing, was now their painful reality, and one that was there to stay.

"I thought about having it cleaned, but then it wouldn't be the same." Deeks responded, as he took the chain in his hands, and secured it around his mother's neck. His fingers lingering there a second longer, as an echo of a red line on his mother's neck made his own eyes fill with tears. "I love you, mama. And I'm sorry I didn't do something that night."

Brushing her tears away, and holding tightly onto the pendant, Roberta moved to hug her son, pulling him close, as mother and son cried together as they individually remembered their history. "You have nothing to apologize for, Martin. You saved us, you saved me." Bertie said after a few moments of silence.

"I should have done something sooner, I should have stopped him that day."

"No, Martin. I should have stopped him, way before that night." Roberta admitted, as she again brushed away tears that didn't want to stop coming. "It was not your responsibility, but you still did, baby boy. That's just who you are." Kissing her son's blonde curls, Bertie continued to hold tight to the pendant with one hand, and to her son with the other.

Mother and son remained in the same position for the next few hours – overlooking their familiar Pacific, with tears silently making reappearances every once in a while, and more words being shared by the pair than in the years that came before. Their occasionally stranded relationship being repaired by the memories of the past. By the realization that they had both come a long way from the broken mother and son they had once been and that they both deserved better.

Deeks had shared the story of what happened that night after Bertie went into her bedroom with Brandel, wanting to keep the man happy and away from their son. How he had found the living room when he walked down the stairs, the picture he had seen, his long search and eventually his happiness at having found the necklace. Then how he had hid it, in a little box that had remained untouched after the night he shot his father – never gaining the courage to get back to that house, or feeling the need to regain the long, lost piece of jewelry.

Bertie had shared forgotten stories of the early days, the happy family they had been, and of the specific day in which her husband and son had given her that necklace in this same spot. Then of how alcohol had broken their home. How Brandel had turned into a natural disaster that constantly send their lives into chaos. But also stories of the calm in between storms, the happy memories that mother and son had share, the many days Roberta had been little Marty's shelter and of the few days in which they had both been able to see clearly because the rain was gone, if only for a short while.

"Why, now?" Roberta asked eventually, when mother and son had seen the time, and remembered they were meeting Julia and Kensi for dinner, and didn't want to be late.

"Because the time is right, mama." Deeks responded simply, but deep down knowing the answer was a lot more complicated. "Because I'm gonna get married soon. Because I will be a father someday, and you a grandmother. And for that to happen, we need to leave the past behind, but not running like I… we… did for 29 years. We have to embrace it, and step away from its shadow. And because we need to forgive, the mistakes of those still living, but also those that are no longer with us." He completed vaguely, knowing his mother would understand.

Mother and son got back inside the car feeling better than before, and both realizing they had taken a step in the right direction. Both, silently forgiving each other for the mistakes they had made, for their relationship that had been strained until a few years ago, and for the times in the long, lost past in which they thought they hadn't done enough. But also forgiving the man who had, for better or worse, shaped the individuals they were today, and wishing he was still alive for them to share the words neither had been courageous enough to speak in the past. Fate taking Gordon Brandel too soon, and forcing a lot of important truths to remain unsaid.

Looking out at the passing City of Angels, mother and son had always called home, and up at the sky, Marty and Roberta Deeks finally felt at peace. Deeks knowing he had won another battle, and Bertie secretly thanking Gordon because without him she wouldn't even be celebrating this day. And her son would always make the past worth it.

As Marty Deeks drove the car into the freeway and towards Julia's house, he smiled to himself, knowing the chain – the last mother's day gift given by father and son before the violence had begun – was safely back where it belonged. On his mama's neck, and where no one would ever yank it away again.

-x-x-x-

2020 - Sunday, May 10

Marty Deeks, Roberta to one side, Kensi to the other, and the rest of his work family standing behind, moved towards the blue ribbon at the doorway.

Above the door stood a sign, written in blue, and with a logo standing out next to the name. A small crowd stood around the house, some familiar faces, from LAPD, NCIS, and other law enforcement offices. Other faces unknown, but with smiles on their faces as they would be the ones benefiting from the new place.

With a shaky breath, Marty Deeks cut the ribbon in the middle, two separate parts falling to the ground, and the path being now open. The small unfamiliar crowd of women and children age ranging 1 to 17, rushed inside to check out the accommodations as Marty Deeks stood behind, with a lone tear flowing down his face and his eyes took in the sign above the door.

Bertie's Haven read the name, and a mother elephant followed by her baby, stood proud as the logo of the newly inaugurated shelter. Opened on the 30th anniversary of the year mother and son became free, and located in the building that had once held their abusive household, but which now stood as a symbol of resilience, and strength. It was a silent fortress meant to be the safe haven Marty and Roberta Deeks had never been able to enjoy and one only made possible by the love a mother and son shared for each other.

As I write this note, I'm still not sure I should even post this. So I can only say, I hope someone enjoys it. Thanks for reading and hopefully reviewing. And Happy Mother's Day to those who celebrate it today.