To protect and to serve
AN: He everybody! Of course, after the Internal Affairs episode, I too had my own version of the story in my head, which I then adapted after the Cancel Christmas episode, of which I only saw bits and pieces. Anyway, inspiration struck, so here we go…my Christmas gift to you.
I wish all my readers a very Merry Christmas and many happy reading hours in 2016!
Disclaimer: Since I have no illusion they will be magically shoved down my chimney, I do not own, nor will I ever own the characters of NCIS: LA.
Home sweet home. After what was a surprisingly fun Christmas dinner at the Hanna's. Both your moms were in good spirits and you count yourself blessed. Also, Deeks, your wonderful boyfriend and partner, did not disappoint in the gifts department. Sparkling new diamond earrings adorn your ears and a matching pendant hangs around your neck. Plus, he had adopted a recently born tiger cub in your name at a local small zoo. You can't bring the animal home, but at least on paper, it's yours.
You gave him a tailor made wetsuit and cleaning supplies for his board and a rare model train you found online (with a bit of help from Eric). You don't know who was happier, but after 'celebrating' your anniversary at home, you are too tired to care a lot.
Yet, something is bothering your partner and it's probably not just the fact his mom got on a little too well with Sam, who now has a whole new source of information on you to tease him with.
You know him. Very, very well and you can tell by just the way he's breathing that the heaving of his lungs has nothing to do with the aftermath of your second round of lovemaking just now. You struggle for a moment between the choice of ignoring it to save some peace and quiet and addressing it before it eats him alive. In the end, you just can't stand the thought of him struggling alone. All in still means all in to you.
"Spill it, Deeks."
He turns his head to look at you, trying to diffuse the tension with humor, as usual.
"I have nothing left to spill, SugarBear."
"Ew! And also, not what I mean."
"What do…"
You sit up at him to emphasize your glare, clutching the sheets to your chest to he doesn't get distracted by your naked form.
"You know what I mean. You're upset by something and you promised we would have no more secrets from each other. Now spill."
He sighs, but also sits up, leaning in to kiss you softly.
"You're right. No more secrets. But it's…it's hard to say. Weird. I wanted, needed your forgiveness for the fact I killed Boyle and it was a great relief you understand, but I can't…why can't I forgive myself? Why is this different? We put bullets in bad guys almost every day, but this…I killed a cop, Kensi! I shot a fellow officer of the law! My partner! I…I shouldn't be a cop anymore. I disgraced the uniform and all who wear it."
He slumps back against the headboard, swallowing convulsively, eyes wet and shiny. Your heart melts and you bite back the remark that Deeks hardly ever gets to wear his uniform. Deeks has a masochistic streak about him, one that enables him to always put himself down, comparing his actions to those of the worst scumbags alive and concluding that he too, is nothing more than a bad guy hiding behind a badge to justify his actions.
Which is so far from the truth, it would be laughable if it wasn't so damn sad.
But how to tell him so? You love him, faults and all and would always support him, but how can you bring the faults he magnifies so ruthlessly, back to their proportions? Yes, he killed his partner. He did a bad thing, for a lot of good reasons. To protect a vulnerable young woman he felt responsible for because he used her as an informant.
Protect. Serve and protect…that's it!
"Deeks, what's to motto of the LAPD?"
"To protect and to serve. You know that."
"I do. You just seem to have forgotten."
"What do you mean by that?"
You sigh and plead for patience. He has to understand where you're going with this.
"Why did you shoot your dad?"
"He was abusing my mom. I had to protect her."
You hold up one finger.
"Why did you help Ray and Nicole get away?"
"He's my best friend. He was about to become a dad. I had to get them out of harm's way."
Two fingers.
"Why did you get out of bed at the hospital after you got shot and ripped open your stitches?"
"Because I realized that they were after you and I needed to get to you in time."
That's three.
"Why did you go with us to Romania to go after Hetty?"
"Because I couldn't leave my partner and because I thought Hetty could use all the support she could get."
Four fingers. And you're not done yet.
"Why did you not spill the beans on Michelle?"
He shudders at the memory.
"Because I couldn't betray her. She's Sam's wife! And you were with her!"
One full hand. Now for the jugular.
"That's five times. Five random times that I know of that you put yourself in harm's way to do what you swore to do. Five times you lived by that very same motto, and one of those times you weren't even a cop yet! Marty Deeks, you are the embodiment of a cop! Every single thing you do, all day, every day, is making sure those who are vulnerable get protected and those who abuse them and their power get what's coming to them. You live and breathe by the oath you took!"
He still struggles, though he tries to smile.
"Fair enough. But I still took the life of a man who had taken the same oath."
"True, but he was the one breaking it. Anyone can put their hand on a bible and recite those words, anyone can read a motto on the wall of a building and memorize them, but swearing an oath and living by it are two wholly different things. The moment Boyle's greed took over from his common sense, the moment he started regarding the people around him as either tools or collateral damage, he broke his oath and forfeited the right, the privilege, the God-given honor to wear that badge. You, Detective Marty Deeks, did not kill a fellow officer of the Law. You shot a common criminal dressed like a cop to do what you always do; serve and protect."
Silence settles in the room around you as your vehement monologue sinks in. By now, your chest is heaving as hard as his and your own eyes are watery while you silently beg him to understand.
Then after either minutes or hours, he nods and tugs you against his chest, holding you so closely you almost choke, but you don't dare let go of him either.
"Thank you," he whispers and you know he finally gets it.
He lets go of you and slumps down again, pulling you close to him and rearranging the blankets around the both of you. You reach over to dim the lights on his nightstand and snuggle closer to him, breathing in his familiar scent that always soothes you.
Just as you are nodding off, he speaks again.
"I still don't think I should still be a cop, though."
You lean on your elbow to look at him in the dim moonlight, but he is smiling.
"I'm only one signature away from something better."
Smiling too, you kiss him one more time and lay back down.
"That would be awesome, partner."
THE END
Your reviews would be awesome little Christmas gifts…thank you for reading.