Kensi comes face to face with an armed suspect when she returns to the field.
Hesitating. That was her first mistake.
The man on the other side of her gun was bad. She was good. But when Kensi rounded the corner, her gun loaded and aimed straight at him, he shuddered. She knew what that kind of fear felt like, so she didn't pull the trigger.
He did.
And now she's lying in a hospital bed, wondering how she let this happen and what she was thinking and if Hetty's ever going to let her get her job back.
Then her mind drifts to Deeks. How he's holding up, hell— if he's holding up. If Kensi were him and the roles were reversed, she knows she'd be falling apart.
Her head spins around and Kensi tries to gather herself as she hears a knock on the door.
"Come in," she says, her voice hoarse and weak and just tired, despite the fact that she's been sleeping all day. It's the irreversible kind of tired. The kind of tired that can't be fixed with rest.
Deeks walks through the door. Somehow he looks as though he feels worse than her and she finds it within herself to perk up, for his sake.
"Hey," he says, rubbing his neck with one hand , then ruffling his hair, then sticking both hands into his pockets because he can't figure out what to do with them.
"Hey," she replies, pushing a tuft of hair behind her ear.
His eyes dance around her face, then her body, taking inventory of all the damage. It takes him a minute, because there's a lot of it.
He swallows down something, maybe fear, before asking- "How much more can you take, Kens?" His head shakes and his eyes become glossy. "Because I think I'm hitting my limit. I'm sure you are too."
Kensi can't deny it but she doesn't want to acknowledge it, so she doesn't say a word. He shifts his weight to his left foot and she pats the edge of her hospital bed. Kensi can't stand for him to be that far away.
Deeks takes a seat beside her but doesn't know how close he's supposed to get, how close she wants him to get. Kensi can feel his stare and reaches for one of his hands. Deeks takes it and can't help but notice the scars that decorate her wrist, marks that are deeply imprinted into her skin. He swallows hard and feels his stomach churn.
"They don't hurt," she says, catching his stare.
He looks up to her with wide eyes. Kensi's sure he probably has a million questions but she doesn't want to answer them right now. She can't.
"Is Hetty mad?" she asks when no other question will come to mind.
"You got shot," he says with a slight wag of his head. "She would never be mad about something like that."
Tears begin burning in her eyes. "But it's my fault."
"You got shot," he repeats. "It isn't your fault."
"I hesitated."
"And he pulled the trigger."
Deeks' expression is serious but his eyes are soft— two melty seas of blue that make her want to scream and cry and burrow her head in his shoulder, all at the same time. Kensi holds it together for the time being, but knows that if she tries to speak she's bound to fall apart.
"No one faults you for this," he adds after a lengthy stretch of silence.
"They should," she mutters. A couple of tears trickle down her cheeks. "I'm back home. I wasn't fine, but now I am. Or, I mean, I should be, at least."
His features soften because he understands, and he hates that he does. The anger, the frustration, the self loathing and the worry that consumes every bit of you. It seeps into your bones and won't get out, no matter how hard you try to push it away or cover it up. It's all consuming and doesn't leave room for much else.
Kensi furiously swipes the tears off her cheeks with her one free hand. "I mean… it has to end eventually, doesn't it? Do the memories ever fade or-or at least become less vivid?"
Her voice reaches a higher octave and she stammers over her words, unable to keep her breathing under control. She looks back to her partner and sees that he's crying, too. "I can still picture everything, Deeks. Every moment of it."
Even when she shuts her eyes, a couple of tears still manage to seep through her closed lids. A hiccuping sob escapes her lips and that's it, that's all he can handle.
"Come here," Deeks says as he shifts around so he's seated directly beside her. She does as requested and practically falls into him, tangling up a couple of IV cords in the process. She isn't too worried about it though— if Kensi was going to die anytime soon, then she surely would've done it already.
"I've got you," he says, holding her thin frame gently- so incredibly scared that he's going to inflict further damage than what's already been done.
After a long moment she hasn't moved an inch and is still crying, so he decides to repeat himself. "I've got you, okay? I've got you."
He can feel her nod against his shoulder. "I know," she whispers.
Deeks takes a breath upon hearing those two little words. She knows.
And for now, that's all he needs. He hopes it's all she needs, too.