Sequel: Forget and Remember
The barrel of the shotgun looked immense; its color an oily, steely black. Soft crying and obscenities were the background sounds as the images floated just out of reach. His hands were slick with sweat as he held a gun that seemed too big. He could feel hot tears on his face and the pain that pulsated behind his eyes alternated red and black. The sound of the guns firing exploded through his memory and he roared awake.
...
He sat up shakily in the dark, reaching out with his mind for the scattered remnants of his nightmare. He was trembling and the pain he remembered from the dream was real and throbbed behind his eyes. Sweat streamed off his body as he fought to get out of the bed, to get free from the emptiness of his dark mind. But he was still hooked up to all the machines, and sensors began to sound as he ripped the IV drip from his arm. Searing pain shot down his left arm as his feet found the floor, and his mind began to fill with a grey fog as he struggled to remain standing in the spinning room. He screamed as his head hit the cold floor and then his mind finally found comfort in the enveloping blackness.
...
"If this keeps happening, we're going to have to tie him to the bed," the doctor warned her. "He's lucky he didn't fracture his skull this time. I have him sedated right now, and I'd like to keep him that way for a while, so his wounds can heal, but the psychiatrist doesn't think that's a good idea."
Hetty could tell the doctor was frustrated with the situation. He had a seriously wounded patient who tried to get out of bed every time he woke up. They all knew he was having nightmares, but he could only recall abstract flashes from his dreams. The sad thing was, his nightmares were the only memories he had.
She understood the doctor's point of view, but it was the patient's mind that concerned her. If Mr. Deeks could not regain his memory, he would never be able to resume his job as an undercover police officer. Becoming a Federal Agent, however, might still be a possibility. She wouldn't give up that idea easily.
She let herself into his room and slowly settled into the chair next to his bed. She could feel the exhaustion seeping into her bones, but she was determined to stay as long as she could. It had only been three days since her two agents had been rescued and she had been at the hospital almost continuously since they had been brought in. Sam was in a room down the hall, being looked after by Mr. Callen. He was doing well and would be released in a week or so. As soon as he'd been able, he insisted on seeing Deeks. From what he had told them during his debrief, the two men had bonded during their ordeal, and Sam was constantly asking about the younger man. She knew he was as worried about Deeks' future as she was. She had forced Ms. Blye to go home just before this latest incident, or she would be sitting right beside her now, listening to the monitors beeping softly in the night as Deeks slept soundly once again.
Hetty jumped as Callen rested his hand on her shoulder. "You should go home and get some rest," he told her gently. She realized she had fallen asleep and thought he was probably right.
"That's my line, Mr. Callen." She smiled as she rose and followed him out the door. They made their way to the cafeteria, which even at this late hour was brightly lit and humming with activity. The glare of the lights rattled her after being in the semidarkness of Deeks' hospital room and she knew she had better do as Callen had suggested and go home for the night.
"I'll stay with him, Hetty." Callen brought her tea and sat down next to her with a coffee and large cinnamon roll.
"Thank you, Mr. Callen," she said as she took in the aroma of the chamomile tea.
"What did the psychiatrist say," Callen asked, the worry evident in his blue eyes. He had heard the whole story from Sam and had been amazed at both men's resilience during their ordeal, especially Deeks'. Sam thought the cop had fought through the pain and amnesia on pure instinct, realizing that even though he didn't recognize Sam, he needed him to survive.
"The doctor says Mr. Deeks has retrograde amnesia." She shook her head and Callen could see the concern on her face. "He doesn't know when or if Deeks will get his memory back, although he did say there have been some cases of spontaneous recovery, but it was rare."
"I wish Nate was here." Callen dropped his head and let out his breath at the enormity of what Deeks was facing.
"Actually, I've spoken to Nate." Hetty sat up straighter as she related her conversation with the psychologist to Callen, who didn't understand half of it. "He recommended a specialist who might be able to help."
They talked more as they finished their drinks, each trying to encourage the other about Deeks' future.
...
Callen quietly entered Deeks' room and saw that the doctor had made good on his threat to tie him down. It worried him though, as he remembered the last time doctors had tried to tie Deeks to a hospital bed. He had fought so hard against the restraints, that they had to sedate him so he wouldn't hurt himself. But since he had no memory of his past, maybe he would tolerate it this time, but something told him that probably wouldn't happen, so he prepared himself to sleep lightly.
...
Rough hands held him as soft rain fell. Images of silver knives flashed. Brilliant pain and laughter echoed through an ugly landscape, and he felt himself fighting to swim upwards through the dimming light, but something held him back. He grasped for fleeting memories that refused to be caught, and evaporated as soon as he turned his mind's eye to see them. He somehow knew he had to fight and so he did, the nightmare growing darker as he struggled.
...
Callen abruptly woke from his dreamless sleep to see Deeks thrashing and fighting the restraints that held him. He wasn't conscious, but was fighting the unseen demons in his nightmare. Callen grabbed his shoulders, pushing him back onto the bed, but that made Deeks fight even harder. His reaction was so familiar that Callen knew he must be reliving what had happened to him when he had been left for dead almost seven months ago. He actually felt encouraged as he pushed the call button, and began to undo the restraints. Deeks' memories of that terrible night were still floating in his brain and coming back to him in nightmares, but they were part of his memory and that meant if he could dream about them he might eventually remember them.
The doctor and nurses flooded the room and the doctor began yelling at Callen as he continued to untie Deeks. He wasn't going to be deterred, even though one of the male nurses was actually trying physically to stop him.
"Get away from him!" Kensi's voice rang out loudly from the door, and Callen was afraid she was going to pull her gun. But just as she yelled, he finished undoing the last restraint and Deeks suddenly stopped fighting and fell back on his pillow breathing rapidly, sweat covering his face and chest. His eyes opened and he looked at Callen and smiled.
"I won that one," he said. The doctor was stunned and the male nurse apologized as the staff left them alone with the exhausted patient.
Kensi started to scold him about trying to get out of his hospital bed each time he woke up, and he just stared at her with that serious look on his face that had been prevalent since he had been shot in the head. Kensi was starting to hate that blank look. She just wanted him to make one of his smart-ass remarks or argue with her as he used to do, anything that would hint that the old Marty Deeks was still there under that shaggy blond hair and somewhere behind that serious stare.
"They wouldn't have to tie you down if you would just be sensible," she said as her eyes flashed angrily.
Deeks looked at Callen and asked, "Is she always like this?" He seemed genuinely surprised that she was yelling at him, and Callen had to remind himself again that this Deeks really didn't know Kensi. He had no idea why Kensi would be mad at him, since he couldn't remember being her partner or that there had been a developing relationship between the two before his injury. Now they were strangers, and Callen knew Kensi was yelling because she was afraid that she had lost him even though he had survived physically.
"Kensi, you're scaring him." Callen laughed briefly as he tried to take her arm and pull her back. But tears brimmed in her eyes as she pushed him off.
"He's not going to get better if he keeps doing this." Her voice rose as she turned to Deeks and said, "Why can't you just give yourself time to heal instead of fighting to leave all the time?" Her eyes were pleading with him and she finally just took his hand in hers and pulled it to her chest, holding it there as she tried to calm down.
He stared at her hand holding his and a slow smile spread across his face. "You have a thing for me, don't you."
"Yes, you idiot!" she replied. He thought she was going to punch him as she did the first time he saw her in the hollow of the rocks. He was amazed at her beauty and it was hard not to stare at her. He thought she could keep his hand right where she had it as long as she liked. He felt a calmness settle over him as she started stroking the back of his hand, and he thought they must have been something more than partners before he'd been shot.
"You're very beautiful," he said as his body began to relax. She smiled softly and his heart filled with a warmth that surprised him. He'd been scared since that day in the stable when he woke up in almost unbearable pain and with no memory of who he was. All he wanted to do was run away and hide from the fear and the coldness that saturated his mind. This pleasant feeling that was flooding through him now, as she stroked his hand, was the first time he'd felt safe since being shot. Maybe he would stay.
"Will you come to see me if I stay?" he asked softly as his eyes became heavy with exhaustion.
"You won't be able to get rid of me," she told him. She moved closer to his side and reached out to gently touch the soft stubble on his cheek, and she was rewarded with his familiar lopsided smile.
"If I go to sleep, will you be here when I wake up?" His voice was barely above a whisper as his eyes slowly closed and she felt his hand go limp.
"Yes." she said quietly. After a few minutes, she laid his hand gently across his chest. "It's like talking to a child, G," she said softly to Callen as she wiped her eyes.
"Yeah, but you're the only one he's responded to, so keep talking," he said squeezing her shoulder. "You rest, and I'll go get us some coffee," he said briskly.
"Me too," Deeks murmured softly as he opened his eyes again. "All they give me here is Jell-O, and I hate Jell-O." And he was surprised at the laugh he got. I must be a funny guy, he thought.
...
He was running and he felt happy, but then a cloud of pain exploded in his chest as gunfire flashed. Dark pain followed him into white light and a familiar face smiled above him. Questions haunted him from the past and then he was running again, shouting her name. Sharp pain tore through him but still he kept running. Warm blood streaked his body as fear pushed him out of the shadows. He was shooting, the sounds reverberating through his mind, and then she was there, holding him, as he slipped slowly into the dark.
...
He woke with his heart pounding as the dream dissipated in the cool light of his room. He wasn't afraid after this dream, as he had been before. It wasn't a nightmare. He knew Kensi was the woman in his dream, but what the rest of it was about he didn't know. His emotions were raw as he tried to retain some vestige of the images, but again they were just out of reach and he felt angry that he couldn't hold on to them. He struggled to make sense of his new life, a life that was only a week and a half old. Kensi was a lovely woman who obviously felt something for the old Deeks, but that wasn't him. He was a different person now. Cold reality stalked his mind and he felt a heaviness come over him he hadn't felt before. The warm feeling he'd had when she'd held his hand was gone, replaced by an icy fear.
Then he heard a soft knock and Sam came in. He was in a wheelchair and Deeks could tell he was not happy about it.
"Hey Deeks," Sam grumbled as his face fell into a pout. "Can you believe they won't let me walk out of here on my own two feet?"
"Yeah, well at least you get to leave." Deeks gave him a quick, small smile that passed almost as soon as it appeared.
Sam was glad to see even a small smile on his face instead of the blank stare he remembered from the stable.
"Still having nightmares?" Sam asked him. They had become quite honest and blunt with each other since their experience together.
"Yeah." That serious look Sam had come to dread darkened his eyes and he could see he was in a pensive mood. "Sam, can I ask you about something?"
"You can ask me anything, Deeks," Sam stood and walked up to stand next to the bed. "And I promise to be truthful."
"Were Kensi and I more than partners?" Deeks' blue eyes burned with intensity. "Sam, were we in love?"
"Yes, I think you were." Sam said softly. "None of us knew for sure, but yeah, the two of you definitely had something going on."
Deeks put his head back on the pillow and stared at the ceiling and Sam could see him fighting his emotions.
"Deeks." Sam gripped his arm and started to say something, but Deeks cut him off.
"Sam, how can I not remember that I love someone?" Quiet tears ran from his eyes and Sam knew there was nothing he could say that could help him, but he knew he had to try.
"You just have to give yourself some time," Sam said. His heart filled with emotion as he saw the devastation on Deeks' face. "You have to believe you'll remember."
Deeks turned his head and looked at Sam for a long time without speaking. Sam watched as the expression on his face slowly changed to that blank look that Sam had seen the day he'd been shot, and he was afraid for him.
"But I don't believe that, Sam." he whispered, and then he looked back up at the ceiling.
Sam didn't know what to say. He gripped Deeks' arm and felt a deep sadness settle in his chest. As he searched for something to say that might encourage him, Callen came in.
"You ready to go home, Sam?" Callen stopped abruptly as he felt the emotion in the room. "Everything okay, guys?"
"Yeah, everything's fine," Deeks told him, easing up from his pillow and smiling at the two men. "I was just telling Sam how lucky he is to be going home."
Sam looked at him hard, but the foreboding of a few seconds ago seemed to be gone. "I'll be back to see you tonight, okay?" He gripped Deeks' hand and gave him a long look before turning to sit down in his wheelchair.
"Eat a pizza for me," Deeks joked as Callen wheeled him out of the room.
Then he was alone. And he knew what he was going to do.
He eased himself out of bed and walked to the bathroom. He gingerly removed the bandages from his chest and head. The wounds were red and still swollen but healed, at least on the outside. Then he wrapped a wad of paper towels around his hand, made a fist and smashed the mirror. He picked up one of the shards, and began to saw through his hospital ID bracelet. When he finished, he checked the closet, but only found his jeans. They had cut off his bloody tee shirt when he was brought into the ER. He put on the jeans, but could find no shoes. The nurses were used to seeing him walk the halls now, so he left his room, and started to check each room he passed. He found what he was looking for out of sight of the nurses' station.
A visiting family helped a patient wheel his IV pole out the door and down the hall, turning the corner at the end. Deeks entered the room, checked the closet and found a shirt, quickly putting it on. He also found a pair of flip-flops and a ball cap. There was a purse hanging on one of the chairs and he pulled the wallet, taking the money and pocketing it. When he left the room, the nurses didn't recognize him as he walked closely behind a group of people just leaving. He reached the street and found a bus stop, sitting a while until his heart stopped racing. Sam had told him he had been an undercover cop and now he believed him. He felt sorry about stealing the money, but not about leaving.
He took the first bus that came, even though he had no idea where he was or where he was going. He ended up in Venice. He felt relaxed as he walked onto the beach. Something about this place calmed him, and he wondered if he had been a surfer. He walked along the wet sand, letting the occasional foamy edge of a wave lap over his feet. He took a deep breath, taking in the smell of the ocean, and the warmth of the sun on his face caused him to smile. He liked it here. It felt familiar to him, even though he could not touch a specific memory. He saw a surf shop and wandered in, looking at the boards and impulsively picking up a retro tee shirt showing a row of surfers holding long boards. As he stepped up to pay for it, the guy behind the counter spoke his name.
"Hey Deeks, long time no see, dude." His name tag said "Posey", so Deeks smoothly said "Posey, how's it goin', buddy?"
"You surfin' today, man?" the kid asked.
"Somebody stole my board, man." Deeks lied.
"Bummer," Posey said. "Hey dude, if you want to catch a wave, you can borrow my board."
"Okay," he agreed, "I'll take you up on that, thanks." Then he bought a pair of trunks and quickly changed. The board felt familiar in his hands as he instinctively raced into the surf. It was the most fun he could remember.
...
Callen thought Kensi was going to shoot him, she was so mad. They all were. When Kensi had arrived at the hospital to check on Deeks, he was gone, and no one had seen him leave. The wastebasket in the bathroom contained his bandages and the ID bracelet he had removed, and his pants were gone. They all knew what a good undercover cop he was, so they weren't surprised he was able to get out of the hospital unnoticed. But where he had gone was a mystery to all of them. He was a resourceful undercover officer, and they knew those instincts would serve him well, but those same instincts would hide his whereabouts from them, his friends.
Sam walked into Deeks' room with a look of anger and resignation on his face.
"I should have known, G," he said dejectedly. "The way he was talking before you came to take me home. That should have been a tipoff."
"We all should have known, Sam," Callen responded, "It's what he's been trying to do since he got here."
"What did he say, Sam?" Kensi asked moving in front of him. But he didn't want to tell her so he turned away. "Sam, what did he say!" she demanded, getting in his face once again.
"He asked if you two were more than partners, and I told him you were. Then he asked me, 'How can I not remember that I love someone?'" Sam told her sadly and then pulled her into a hug.
"But he asked me if I would be here if he stayed," Kensi said, as tears filled her eyes. "I should have been here. You should have waited until I got here before you left, Callen." Her voice rose as her anger sparked through the room leaving Callen angry in return.
"Stop it!" Hetty demanded as she entered. "This behavior isn't helping us find Mr. Deeks, so start doing what you're good at and go investigate. Then be back at the OSP Center in an hour. We have work to do, if we are going to find him. We have to find him." The last comment was spoken softly in a trembling voice. Callen went and stood next to her, taking her elbow. "We'll find him, Hetty." Then he motioned to the other two and they left her alone in the room.
She sat there for some time trying to think what she could have done differently to help her agent. He was special to her, and she didn't want to lose him, and she wouldn't, not without a fight. She rose and walked out of the room, determination settling on her face.
...
Back at OSPs, Eric had already zeroed in on public transportation serving the hospital. He had a window of time to explore and pulled the routes and destinations of the three buses that had stopped there. When the team arrived, he showed them the possibilities. They quickly eliminated one, but studied the other two, before Kensi pointed her finger at Venice.
"He used to go there to surf," she said, looking at the others with questioning eyes. "Do you think he would instinctively go there without knowing why?"
"It's a good place to start." Callen said.
"We know he has at least two hundred dollars that he stole before he left the hospital," Sam said. "It's too much of a coincidence for it not to have been him. That might get him a cheap motel somewhere down there."
"Let's go to the beach." Callen said as he led them towards the door.
...
Deeks returned the board to Posey, thanking him again.
"Hey, buddy, you know somewhere I can crash tonight?" he asked the kid.
"No sweat, dude." Posey then generously offered his screened-in porch with a day bed, and Deeks gladly accepted. One problem solved, he wandered back out to the beach and sat watching as the sun began to hang low in the sky. A few surfers were still working the smaller waves and he enjoyed their goofy antics and lighthearted laughter. He noticed a young boy riding by himself and looked around for his friends or family, but saw no one. It wasn't smart to surf alone that young, and he could see that no one was watching out for him. Deeks stood and walked down to the wave line. The boy had pretty good natural ability, but he could tell he needed to work on his technique. Deeks had started surfing around his age and had done it alone, just like this kid.
The memory came so suddenly to his mind and was so sharp that it caused him to stumble, and he sat down in the sand, stunned by the unexpected revelation.
The boy had been watching him, and when he saw him stumble and fall to the ground, he thought he'd had a heart attack or something, and he dropped his board on the sand and ran over to see if he was okay. He was a cool looking dude, the kid thought as he knelt down next to him. He looked like a surfer.
"Hey, you okay?" The boy asked, putting his hand on the man's shoulder.
"I'm good," he said, and the boy saw a shocked look appear on the blond man's face. And then tears began streaming down his face and the boy got scared and stood back.
Memories tumbled in, one on top of the other, crowding their way into his mind and filling the empty spaces with the color of his life. He stood and walked into the surf, letting the waves wash over his body as the memories washed over his mind. He thought he heard someone calling his name, but he remained anchored in the moving water, letting the joy of the waves crash around him.
Callen tackled him, and with Kensi's help, he dragged him up to the beach where Sam stood with an anxious look on his face. As they let him go, he fell on his hands and knees in the sand, and he was laughing. They all looked at each other, and then knelt down beside him, wondering if he was hysterical. Then he rolled onto his back, and lay spread-eagle in the warm sand, soaking wet, with a radiant smile on his face, carefree and happy.
"I remember!"
The young boy walked away from the four crazy people hugging and pounding on each other and rolling around in the sand, and he could hear the surfer's laughter carried by the wind.