It's storming in the bullpen – crash of thunder, swell of rain – and Deeks is the source. Kensi's kind of thinking the roof is about to open up and send a cyclone hurtling in, even though outside it's a typically sunny Los Angeles day. The sky might as well be dark with the promise of a storm because that's all she can see anyway. Her partner's mouth is twisted into a scowl and even Sam and Callen are keeping away from him, that's how palpable the tension he's creating in the room is.
Kensi knows it's bad when Hetty walks in and she's silent, just observing. Her eyes fall first to Deeks and then they flit from agent to agent, finally settling on her. There's a question but Kensi doesn't dare answer it, just like she doesn't dare go over to Deeks. Maybe he needs her but she has the feeling that's not the case right now. The line of his jaw is hard as he writes out his paperwork, the pen scratching angrily across the paper.
The negativity emanating from him is enough to make her queasy, and it's not because she's sensitive to negativity. She's sensitive to him.
This side of him is something she's not used to. Out of all of them, he's by far the most relaxed. In fact, she's come to count on his sunny disposition and his happy-go-lucky way of living his life. It's made Kensi's own life outlook a bit brighter, if she's being honest. But this? This is painful to watch and even worse to endure. They've seen him like this before, but the circumstances were dire and they hadn't known him very well back then, anyway. All Kensi had known then was that he was intense, no matter cheerful and flirty or armed and dangerous.
Now that sort of seems like an understatement. Kensi hears Hetty speak his name and the response is so cold, even their boss seems hesitant to continue. She tells him to go home, to get some rest, to wind down and have a beer. Kensi doesn't hear his answer so much as she feels it – it's an angry growl in a tone that just doesn't seem like it could come from Deeks. She glances up and their eyes lock and she wants to look away but she can't. His trap hers there, his eyes narrowed dangerously, and when he finally lets her look away, Kensi lets out a breath.
Five rounds the corner and Sam and Callen duck out, glad to be away from the tension. Hetty, Nell, and Eric leave around an hour later, and then there's just the two of them. Kensi is actually a bit scared, because this isn't the type of thing she's really used to dealing with. Firefights and stakeouts and hand to hand combat all spark fear, but it's familiar. Someone else's emotions? No, no thank you, she's not at all equipped to deal with those.
Another half hour passes, spent doing paperwork of her own. She hasn't relaxed in the slightest, her ears perked for the sound of … well, anything. Except Deeks doesn't move a muscle the whole time and the only sound is the scratch-scratching of his pen as he writes out his report.
She doesn't even know what happened to him today but it has to be terrible to make him act this way. Hetty knows, because Hetty always knows.
It's six thirty when he finally says something.
"'To protect and serve.'"
Kensi jerks in surprise, looking up at Deeks questioningly. His angry eyes burn into hers and she looks away for a second before glancing back, courage returned. Why should she be afraid of his anger? Out of all of the emotions he could possibly have – and boy is Marty Deeks emotive – anger should be the easiest to deal with. Anger is steely and quick, staccato gunshots of speech, without any of those messy, cloying feelings to dodge. But it's all wrong on him and she hates it.
"What?" she asks, and his eyes narrow harder at her lack of comprehension. Her own irritation rears its head then because Kensi Blye has a limited amount of sympathy to go around and she rarely takes attitude, no matter if it's from her clearly hurt partner.
"'To protect and to serve.' You know, our motto?"
Not 'their' motto, entirely – he's talking about the LAPD. He was with them today, and Kensi had acutely felt his absence.
"Yeah," she says anyway, prompting him to continue. Slowly, she gets up and moves over to him, over to his side of the desk so she can perch on the edge. She touches her fingers to the top of his wrist gently and he pulls away.
"Deeks."
Suddenly, he slams his fist down hard on the desk, making Kensi flinch.
"I'd like to think I'm a good judge of character, but I…" Deeks shakes his head angrily, then runs his hands through his hair. He's as agitated as he was with Scarli and suddenly things start to fall into place in Kensi's head as she catches the snippets of what he's saying.
"… we went inside and he was just lying there…"
"… kid was eight years old…"
"… coroner's report said…"
"… that asshole was…"
Then he's face down on his desk and pulling his hair, his entire body quivering with rage. Kensi puts a hand between his shoulder blades and rubs wordlessly, because the first time he was betrayed she hadn't known him well enough to comfort him. Now, her fingers move to the back of his neck, rubbing slowly, and when he sits up he starts talking. She puts her hand over top of his and he lets it stay.
The story comes out and it's ugly: there was a disturbance call, which wasn't out of the ordinary, except the address given had been that of a Lieutenant Deeks had trained under when he'd first joined the LAPD. He'd and another officer had been sent to investigate and the scene was brutal.
"There was just… blood. More blood than it felt like there should have been, from this tiny kid. COD was blunt force trauma to the head. A lamp. And I thought, 'Who would do this?' And Tom… Lieutenant Ayers…" He barks out the name, corrects himself, his mouth tugging into another scowl. Kensi squeezes his hand a little harder.
"He wasn't there and his phone was off. LAPD put out an all-points and they got him an hour later. Covered in his kid's blood. He was drunk, Kensi, and then we find out later this kid's got bruises all over him. Healed fractures all over. I just…"
Deeks doesn't need to finish his sentence because Kensi can hear him loud and clear.
"He was one of us. He did the same training as all of us, he took the same oath as all of us. 'To protect and serve.' And he beat his kid to death."
It's quiet in the bullpen as they both really think about that, sitting there holding each other's hands.
"Sometimes I don't think I can deal with it."
His admission is raw and Kensi frowns as he visibly sags. Giving his hand a squeeze, she shakes her head adamantly, before reaching out slowly to touch his cheek. He looks as surprised as she does and she speaks quickly before he can.
"You can and you do. You have to, Deeks. You have to be good because others aren't. That's a big responsibility, but you have to because…" Her voice gets quieter and she treads even lighter than before. "… they need you."
Deeks makes a frustrated noise and Kensi continues, thumb stroking his jaw softly.
"You have to be tough for those who can't be… and for those who are too small to be," she adds sadly. He looks particularly stricken at her words but she doesn't know why. She's ignorant to his past and it's something she could never guess, just by looking at him.
"I know," he says after a long minute. "I know." It comes rushing out, a sigh of admission, a weary acknowledgement before he lifts his head and looks at her. He takes her hand from his face and gives it a squeeze before gathering his paperwork and getting up.
"We should get going."
Like that, she feels the storm in the bullpen let up a bit. It doesn't recede all together, but the thunder quiets down and she definitely feels less tense.
"See you tomorrow," Deeks says at the door and Kensi nods, offering him a little smile. He manages one back and then walks out the door.
Tomorrow morning, he's back to normal. Same old Deeks, cracking a joke about how low her blouse is. It almost feels like yesterday didn't happen, except toward the middle of the morning he catches her eye meaningfully. She purses her lips back at him thoughtfully before smiling a bit shyly. They'd done it again. They'd trusted each other. Maybe the angles of their trust were different, but the triumph feels all the same. Deeks' toothy grin is another triumph. In a world of angry people, he's sort of a shining light. Happy looks good on him, and beyond that, he deserves to be happy. Good people deserve to be happy. Kensi believes this resolutely, and she also knows that despite the hardships, Deeks will continue to protect and to serve, because that's just who he is. Dependable. Good-natured. Strong-willed. Pure-hearted. And she can deal with his bad days not only because she owes it to him, but because he gives her the strength to do so.
