A/N: I don't own NCIS: Los Angeles, CBS, or any other known entity. This story takes place after "Missing," and is my first NCIS: Los Angeles story. I hope you all enjoy, and please review. :)

Nobody's Fault

The dishes now done, she leaned against the counter, staring around the apartment. It was a nice place, she had to admit. She just wished she could have seen it for the first time under better circumstances. That thought alone caused her to flinch slightly.

If they had better prepared him. If they had made him join them that night. If someone had been with him. If they had worked harder, faster... maybe it wouldn't be a case of 'what if' anymore.

And maybe Dom would be doing his own dishes, instead of being God-knows-where.

That was the part that killed her. There was no clear answer to that query. No one knew where Dom was. They only knew that the blue van that he had been left in was empty, and that he was probably being treated as though he were some type of unwanted luggage.

But what more could they do?

Forensics had attacked the van, the area, and everything in between. That search had yielded nothing. The people who had been paid to turn Dom over were dead, and she wasn't sure forensics would get anything out of that. Possibly not even Abby Sciuto would find a clue as to where these people had dragged Dom.

It fell to Hetty to notify the director. And from there, it was likely a coin toss would tell either Hetty or Director Vance who would be tasked with notifying Dom's family.

She sighed heavily as she slid down the counter and crumpled to the floor. This shouldn't have happened. Not to Dom. He hadn't been with them long enough to make enemies. They should've protected him better, should've taken care of him better. They should've been there for him the way he'd been there for them.

Instead, he was gone. And she wasn't sure they'd ever see him again.

The front door of the apartment creaked open, and she instinctively reached for her gun at her hip. She saw Nate close the door behind him, and took in the way he hesitantly stood by the door. Either he was trying to respect Dom's privacy, or…

"I had a feeling you'd be here," he said softly, his voice almost tentative.

Damn him and his psychological skills.

Kensi straightened up, brushing away the stray tears that had fallen down her face as she had hunkered down in the corner. He watched her from near the doorway of the apartment, not wanting to move any closer.

"What made you come here?" she asked after she knew her voice wouldn't betray her.

"I had a feeling you'd be here," he repeated.

She swallowed. "Why me?"

"Sam is working out, Callen and Hetty are doing work, and Eric is playing games."

"And you thought that because I wasn't still hanging around the office and working this out in my own way, that I would need you more than the rest of them?"

He shrugged, but didn't answer.

The living room was dark save the moonlight from outside and the few stray beams that spread from the kitchen lights, leaving Nate mostly silhouetted. Which, in turn, made reading his facial expressions much harder from her position. She leaned against the island, dropping her head down.

"You did his dishes," he commented, stepping forward so that he was even with the couch.

She merely nodded.

He leaned against the arm of the chair, not moving any closer as he watched the curls of her hair fall off her sinking shoulders.

"I know cleaning isn't going to bring him back," she said softly. "I just… didn't want them to be dirty when his family gets here."

"Are they coming out here?" he asked.

She lifted one shoulder. "I don't know. I don't know who told them what's going on."

He frowned slightly, his voice threatening to waver. "That fell to Hetty."

She nodded again, closing her eyes as more tears leaked out. "I can't imagine what it'd be like to get that phone call," she whispered.

He swallowed before inhaling deeply and nodding.

"To think that your child is doing this good, noble service and then… someone picks him off the street? And we have nothing to go on."

"The evidence was sent to the Navy Yard," he told her.

"Abby's good, but I don't think she'll find anything," she replied, bringing her hands up to her forehead.

"She found The Phantom when no one else did."

She shook her head. "What is there to find? These guys were pros."

"Even pros make mistakes. Callen cast the net out to Interpol. The team came out of Colombia. That much we know."

"But that doesn't mean they were kidnapping Dom for their own country's people."

"We found Callen's shooter. We'll find Dom."

"But will he still be alive when we do?"

Nate sighed softly. Even he didn't have an answer to that question, and both of them knew it.

Kensi sniffled softly, tucking her hair behind her ears and brushing the tears off her face. "What more can we do?" she asked softly.

He closed his eyes. She'd thrown him another unanswerable question, because both of them knew that until the evidence gave them a direction, there was nowhere else to go. He heard her soft footsteps, and opened his eyes to find her on the other side of the island, closer to the living room.

"Even if we do find him alive, what kind of condition will he be in?" she continued. "And will he even be in a condition to return to duty? Or hell, even a normal life?"

"Depends on what they do to him," he finally answered.

She flinched at his statement. "What could they want him for?"

"I wish I had answers for you, Kensi. I really do."

She swallowed, more tears falling down her face as her brain registered the pain behind his words. "Why him?" she breathed. "He doesn't have enemies. And even if it's our enemies, why'd they go after him? Why not take one of us?"

"I have a theory," he replied quietly. "But you're not going to like it."

She stared at him, waiting.

"Maybe Dom was just the easiest to get to. I mean, you and Sam constantly take countermeasures to protect yourselves. And Callen is in a different apartment every few weeks. Anyone who knows us in the slightest knows that."

"Dom, the newbie, hadn't learned enough about protecting himself," she whispered.

"Maybe he also never thought it would happen to him," he continued. "He didn't get a lot of field experience, didn't put himself out there the way you guys all did. He may have thought that you guys were trying to scare him."

She shook her head again. "We should've protected him better."

"He was smart enough to know something wasn't right. Why else would he hack into his building's surveillance, or turn on his onboard camera that night?"

"He knew it was an ambush. Camera would give us something. But it wasn't enough. It was too little, too late."

Nate exhaled slowly, and Kensi understood that to mean she hit a nerve. And in that moment, she realized that though Nate hadn't been showing it, he had been feeling and thinking the same things as the rest of them.

Why Dom? What could they want him for? How can the team get him back? And when they do, what kind of condition would he be in?

Kensi pushed herself slowly off the island, walking over and turning off the kitchen lights. Nate said nothing, simply watching her as the room faded into a faint gray light from outside.

"I think we should go," she said softly, sniffling back the last few tears that wanted to fall.

He sighed inaudibly, but nodded.

She walked over to him, reaching out and hugging him tightly. He returned the gesture, stroking her hair gently. After a few moments, she pulled back, looking him in the eye with pain, blame, and confusion written all over her face.

"It's not your fault," he said finally. "It's nobody's fault but the people who took him."

"I know," she breathed. "But that doesn't make me feel any better."

"I know."

She stepped back, walking toward the door of the apartment before heading outside. He followed, pausing briefly at the door.

"Hang in there, Dom," he whispered to the darkness before shutting the door and locking it behind him.

The End