Forty seven days.
Six weeks and five days.
One month and a week and half.
Almost two months.
In the grand scheme of life, almost two months isn't that long. People live to be ninety years old, two months shouldn't be that life changing.
It isn't until you break down the days, the minutes, the seconds that you realize how much can change in almost two months.
You can go into the two months happy and expecting, anxious that something you've been waiting for to happen is finally taking place. However, as you've learned your entire life, happiness never stays. You're almost at the two month mark and you're left devastated and empty.
It's been almost two months since the day your partner jumped into that pool.
Almost two months since Callen told you in the emptiest voice you had ever heard that Deeks and Sam had been taken.
Almost two months since you saw Hetty actually petrified for the well-being of her agents.
Almost two months since the man who impacted your life more than anyone on the planet was tortured nearly to death.
Almost two months since you drove off in shock after his lips left yours and tried to deny the overwhelming sense of completion.
You hear his quiet chuckle from across the bullpen, and without even looking up you know he's got the small (but genuine) small on his face.
He's talking to Eric, about what you can't be sure, you're too far away to hear the conversation and you don't dare risk him catching you staring at him to read their lips.
And despite the distance between you and them, you can hear him laugh. Not for the first time, it startles you how connected you are to him. You're almost completely positive he's speaking louder than he's laughing, but no words register.
The only thing peeking through the haze in your mind is the soft (and ever so soothing) laugh slipping between his lips. The single sound has more power over you than you'll ever admit. It calms you down instantly, putting a smile on your face the whole time.
It's easily your favorite sound in the whole world.
You had been beginning to worry you'd never hear it again. Torture is never something to be taken lightly, and having your makeshift partner watch and plead with his almost lifeless eyes to not compromise his wife is something you're not envious of.
But you had faith (not that you had much of a choice) that if anyone could pull through after something so horrific it would be Deeks.
While Sam means a great deal to you and you had be genuinely concerned for his safety, you knew he would be okay. He could go home to his wife and have his kids remind him every day why he fought so hard to stay alive.
Deeks didn't have that. A few months ago it would have been you. You would have stayed with him until he was running marathons and back to his usual chatty self.
That was before things complicated. That was before Monica, before you pushed him to reveal something he clearly wasn't ready for, before you refused to talk to him in the hospital about it once he finally woke up.
You had always blamed life. Said it wasn't fair, said nothing good can ever happen.
You're starting to think it's just you.
You hear him laugh again, this time louder and accompanied with Eric's and you don't even try to shrink the ounce of hope that tugs at your heart.
Before you can think yourself into a deeper depression, Nell joins you on the couch, handing you a bottle of water and a protein bar.
You force a small smile through the mask and grab the water. "Thanks Nell, but I'm really not that hungry."
She tries to give you a stern look that Callen refers to as the 'mama bear protecting her cubs glare' but you see the poorly hidden concern beneath it. "Kens, you have barely eaten anything in weeks. All the baggy shirts in the world aren't gonna hide how much weight you've lost." She places the protein on the table in front of you and you pretend not to hear the slight shake in her voice.
"Would you be able to eat?" you whisper with a tremor in your voice you can't even bring yourself to care about anymore. You're done fighting, you're done being strong. You're something you swore on your own father's grave you'd never do.
You're admitting defeat.
Nell takes a deep breath, shifts closer to lean her head on your shoulder and answers just as quietly. "No, I wouldn't." she squeezes your hand and you push back the (now) familiar sting of tears that wells in your eyes. "But you need to try, Kensi. You barely eat, I know you're not sleeping. Destroying yourself isn't going to make this easier to go through."
The rational side of your brain you've trained to respond in hopeless situations wants to agree with her so she'll back off. But you just can't. You can't say okay and say you're fine. Because Nell isn't Deeks, and if you tell her you're 'fine' she will think you really are fine.
So you let the self-loathing continue. It's something you're beyond exceptional at. You've done it before you'll do it again. She is right though, nothing will make this easier, but you learned a long time ago, if you're going to destroy yourself, you might as well do it thoroughly.
"I fucked up, Nell." You laugh dryly, "I fucked up bad." She squeezes your hand again and for the first time you're glad she's not sharing any of her wise words of wisdom. You don't need to hear how to fix this right now. You don't need to hear 'it'll all get better.'
Because it won't. Nothing will ever get better until your partner is at your side again, cocky smirk and all.
"I know you saw us," you take a deep breath and try to settle your pounding heart. "the day he was taken." Your sentence trails off at the end as you try to ignore the bloody, painful images that whirl through your mind.
"Eric and I deleted all recorded video and audio from those few minutes." She answered, before adding softer, "I figured I'd let you bring it up." You nod gratefully.
"What is going on with you and Eric?" you ask suddenly, knowing that if Deeks heard that he'd laugh and mock you for the horrible subject change. You don't really care though, you just need to talk about something that isn't going to make you cry.
She leans back enough to look at you, you try to ooze innocence but she can see right through, she answers none the less. "Nothing. I'm his partner, nothing more, nothing less." She shakes her head and sighs, exasperated.
You give her a sympathetic smile because god you feel like you're hearing your thoughts out loud. "Nell, I used the 'we're just partners' excuse for three years straight. It wasn't any more true back then than it is now. Take my word for it, don't let it pass by." I looked back to her and saw the hope in her hazel eyes.
"Do you regret it?" you're not sure if she's referring to the kiss or the past three years so you let it all spill out.
"I regret denying we had a thing. I regret fighting our partnership for so long. I regret doubting him." You close your eyes briefly and open them as the montage of regrets flash through your mind. "and when I saw him lying in that hospital bed bruised, permanently scarred and broken, I regretted not telling him every day how much he meant to me and how unbelievably grateful I was to have him as my partner."
She has tears in her eyes when I look back at her. Not enough to cry, but enough to show me that I'm not crazy.
Enough to show me that it's okay to be happy.
"But I never regretted how close I got to him. Never regretted," you pause, unsure if saying the words out loud will set things in stone. But after realizing they already have, and have been set for quite some time, you say what you've wanted to say for the longest time. "I never regretted falling in love with him."
A single tear falls down your pale cheek as you cling to Nell's hand and can't help but wish he was the one comforting you.
"Even now, when not only our friendship is destroyed but our partnership is hanging on by a thread I don't regret it. I regret the way it happened and not addressing it earlier, but I'll never regret loving him." The tears are flowing freely now and you try to pretend the raspy, broken voice isn't coming out of your mouth.
She lets go of your hand to wrap her arms tightly around you. While it's not the strong, familiar arms you're used to, the gesture does comfort you. The tears slow and she pulls back to dry your cheeks, a small smile gracing her petite face.
The voices still carry through the bullpen but you are too far off to the side to really worry about them seeing to break down. Then again, it's not exactly an uncommon occurrence lately.
Nell pushes the few pieces of hair that's escaped from your braid back behind your ear and gives you a small smile. "You need to talk to him." When you look away, she gently places both hands on your cheeks and turns your head until you're looking straight into her eyes again. "I know I'm not really one to talk about partner relationships, but you guys aren't the same when you aren't together. Everyone can tell he misses you and you clearly miss him. Just talk to him."
You give her a nod and a small smile that seems to satisfy her. She leans in to leave a kiss on your forehead and ruffle your hair before bouncing to her feet. "I love you, Kensi." She leans down for a hug and you can't help but wonder if this is what having a sister feels like.
She returns the smile you give her when she pulls back and makes her way back out of the bullpen, "Eat the protein bar!" she shrieks without turning back around.
You shake your head before leaning back on the couch and letting your eyes close. You feel his presence before you feel the slight dip in the couch as he sits next to you.
"Hey I don't know who you are, but I was just wondering if you were planning on giving me my partner back anytime soon. She may be a total pain in the ass but life would be a lot more boring if I didn't have to say her every week." The teasing tone in his voice makes you happier than it ever has and he can insult you until his last breath if it means he's still him.
But because you're still you, you don't let him see that. Instead you open your eyes and slowly turn your head to stare at him with a look that can only portray the message of 'what the fuck?'
"My partner would never have to be told, let alone demanded, to eat something." He shrugged, the hint of a smile still on his mouth.
You nod, turning to look straight again, trying to ignore how the sorrow you felt five minutes was instantly lifted the minute he sat next to you. "She sounds like a real pain."
He whistles. "She is. You should see her when she hasn't had her hourly sugar intake." He shudders. "I'm terrified of what might happen if we get stranded in the desert or something. Which by the way is completely possible with her lunatic driving, but she might go into like sugar withdrawal or something. I'm gonna have to find a place to hide while she starts gnawing on a tire to get her fix."
Without turning your head, your fist collides with his shoulder. He lets out a fake shriek, both of you knowing you wouldn't dare hit him hard enough to cause any pain so soon after being released from the hospital.
As you turn back you see him rubbing his shoulder, the smile on his lips and light in his eyes is enough to bring the warmth back to your smile and hope back to your heart that the two of you will make it work.
You always do.
. . .
A/N: this was my first NCIS: LA fanfic, but I absolutely adore the show. Kensi/Deeks is my favorite pairing ever. I hope I did them justice! I'm really excited and super anxious for September, season 5 could go so many different ways.
If anyone has any prompts or storylines they would like me to write, please let me know!