Disclaimier: I do not own these wonderful characters, and the wonderful plotline created by Shane Brennan. I simply have a wild imagination, and after watching 2x10 I felt the need to write it in Deeks' POV. This is the result.

Callen claimed it was his fault.

"My plan. My fault."

Yes, maybe it was Callen's plan. But it was a good plan, and no one thought it would go so horribly wrong. Especially not since it went so perfectly at first. Until the very end.

No, it wasn't Callen's fault. He wasn't supposed to have her back. Deeks was. But he didn't, no matter how hard he tried. He tried everything. He tried to make them take him instead of her. He even lied. And he hated lying. But he did, for her. Trying to have her back. But not even lying about her helped.

The truth was that yes, maybe she was too pretty for her own good and maybe she even was a little snobby. But she was an excellent agent and an excellent partner. Maybe the best partner he'd ever had. She was likable. And he did, he liked her a lot. He even trusted her with his gun, and that said a lot about him. And especially her. But Kensi Blye deserved someone better than him. Because he couldn't do it. No matter how hard he tried, no matter how many times he told her to not move, he had to watch her walk away from him. And it broke him a little bit, because even though she said that it was okay, that he'd get her back, he had no idea how.

And then there she was. She wasn't moving. And it hurt more to see her on the screen, because then he only realized even more that he didn't know for sure how he'd get her back. They wanted the damn book. How could all of this happen because of a stupid book? A rumor, a legend. Maybe it didn't even exist. Because it was so hard to find. How could something so hard to find even exist?

Deeks had always figured that you could always get everything you wanted if you just tried hard enough. He also knew that he had never really tried hard enough. Becoming a cop was almost too easy. He did it because he didn't really have anything else that he knew that he wanted in life. Except make his Dad proud, and he was ashamed of that. Because deep down, he knew that his Dad didn't really care about him so why should he care about his father? And even though life as a cop could be tough, he liked it a lot more than he ever thought he would. He got to do something different every day, and he liked that. He liked saving people, and helping them. After signing with Hetty as a liaison with the NCIS, he even kind of loved getting up in the morning. But work could still be tough.

Especially now. Seeing her on a tv screen, not knowing how to get to her. Because all he wanted was to hold her, and maybe even hug her. Make sure she was okay. And he knew that it had to be him, because that's what she said. "You'll get me back." And for the first time in his life, he wanted to try hard enough.

It was almost too easy in the end. Getting to the Russians, handing them the fake book, finding out where she was being held. And then when he heard her voice, he knew that he had done it. He had saved her. He had her back.

But he needed a plan B, because she told him to switch off the lights, and he did, and he saw it. The reason she didn't move, the reason she looked so terrified. Explosives. Everywhere. He needed a plan B, but he didn't have one because he hadn't prepared for this. This was harder than he thought. How was he supposed to get her out?

He had read somewhere that it would work, but he wasn't sure. It was the only thing he could think of though, because she couldn't stand there any longer and it would take too long to call the bomb squad. And she begged him. He couldn't hear her beg, he couldn't see her like that. He had to do it. It was her only shot of getting out of there alive. Their only shot.

He was just as surprised as her when it actually worked. At least for a while, because then he couldn't reach the stupid collector with his own laser, and she had to do it on her own. She looked terrified, and there were tears running down her cheeks. He had never been more scared in his life. And not for him. He knew that if she touched one of those beams, they'd go off with a bang. He knew that. He didn't care. He just didn't want her to get hurt, because she was his partner. And he wanted to be good enough for her.

And then she was close enough to touch. One beam away, and he reached his hands out. It was the only thing he could think of. If they were going to die, at least he wanted to touch her one last time. Hold her hand, try to make her feel safer. And she reached her hands out too, even told he told her he wasn't really sure about this, and they were warm and soft and he liked feeling them in his.

Then, on the count of three, he pulled her out and the explosives went off, but the ground was hard against his back and he could feel her soft body against his and he could see her deep brown eyes and they were alive. And right then it didn't matter. Getting her into this mess in the first place, not trying harder to take her spot, not getting to her sooner, not trusting her earlier than he did. Because they were partners, and she was his friend, and he saved her. He had her back, and she got back to him. He got her back. Just like she knew that he would. And her smile was beautiful.