Fix You
When you try your best, but you don't succeed…
It's been the elephant in the room for weeks, now. We all know that something happened, that someone did something and now that something has bit the someone is the ass. Problem is, we can't figure out what the something was, or who the someone is.
Kensi won't look at Deeks.
And Deeks won't look at Kensi.
And even though I'm G Callen, special agent and international man of mystery, I can't figure out what the hell is going on.
When you get what you want, but not what you need…
I finally managed to corner Deeks in the gym. He looked like Hell, eyes bloodshot, hair scraggly and beard overgrown, and I could tell he'd been drinking. The way he winced when Eric blew his whistle this morning proved to all of us that he was very much hung over. At least, to us that were present. You see, Kensi barely turns up on time anymore, and sometimes I begin to wonder whether she'll turn up at all.
Deeks didn't say a thing when I cornered him and started to demand answers. I haven't heard him say a non-case related word for two weeks now.
Finally, after almost sitting on him, he opened his mouth and said nine hoarse, slightly slurred words. 'Sam, I told her what she wanted to hear.'
I didn't know what to make of that.
When you feel so tired, but you can't sleep…
Miss Blye looks like Hell. I called her into my office yesterday for a cup of tea and after twenty minutes of silence during which I almost lost my patience many times, she finally said in answer to my query on her health, 'I guess I haven't been sleeping too well lately, Hetty.'
She didn't need to tell me that. The amount of makeup she wore to conceal her restless nights is growing in amount each day, and when she tries to stand still for a prolonged period of time, she begins to sway and has fainted twice.
There's something going on, but for the life of me, I can't figure out what!
Stuck in reverse…
I got behind the wheel of my Malibu, eager to get out of the tension-fraught minefield that was NCIS. I knew I shouldn't be driving, not with the amount of alcohol I knew I still had in my system, nor with my lack of sleep, but I just didn't care anymore.
I could tell that the others were concerned. Sam cornered me in the gym, Callen outright confronted both of us in the bullpen, which didn't work, you see, as both she and I walked off in opposite directions the moment he started demanding answers, and I saw Hetty pull her into her office earlier.
But it didn't mean a damn thing.
And the tears come streaming down your face…
Once in the safety of my home, I allowed myself to break down. I'd broken Sam's cardinal rule – Don't get into a routine.
Well, I now had a routine. I'd pick up some of the unhealthiest food in the city, drive home and then sit with my back against the door and cry.
Cry for the fact that it's all gone. What we had is lost and it's never coming back. Not without a price. A price that I'm not willing to pay.
Cry for the fact that he won't let it go. He's so stubborn, and he usually gets what he wants because of this. Until now.
Cry for the fact that I'm stubborn. If I just gave in, we wouldn't have to suffer anymore. We could be happy.
I knew that he had a routine as well. Go to the beach, his refuge, take ridiculous risks surfing, go to his favourite bar, get drunk until he passed out and be driven home by the bartender.
I tailed him once. Before I got into my routine. He was already in his.
I just wanted him to come, tell me it was going to be alright, take me in his arms and never let me go.
But we were both too stubborn for our own goods.
And you lose something you can't replace…
I sat in the bar in a shadow-y booth in the corner. The maroon vinyl stank of sweat, stale perfume and vodka, but I was too far gone to really care. Vinnie understood that. He knows when a man's been broken and had his heart snatched out of his chest, and he knows that sometimes the only thing there is to fill the hole is alcohol.
I looked up and caught Vinnie's eye, and he brought me another beer.
'Another day, right?' he asked. The bar was almost empty, so he sat down next to me with a clear glass containing amber liquid in his own hands.
I nodded. 'Yeah,' I grunted.
He shook his head. 'Look Marty, I've known you for a good while now. You done me a good turn, keeping law an' order in this place, and I feel I need to repay the favour.'
'You- you don't need to do that,' I stammered. I was rather losing my talent for talking, these days.
'But I want to.'
I winced at the wordplay, but listened to his words anyway.
'She took your heart without you knowing, right?' he asked.
I nodded, numbly. How a bartender knew these things, I don't know, but he just did.
'And when you realised that, you confronted her.'
I nodded again.
Vinnie nodded as well. 'And she knocked you back.'
I gritted my teeth.
He shook his head. 'You're not the first, Marty, and you won't be the last.'
'But you know the difference?' I asked hoarsely.
He shook his head again, this time indicating the negative.
'She was the one.'
When you love someone and it goes to waste…
I could remember it like it was yesterday.
He looked at me. I could feel the tension rolling off of him in waves. He held himself stiffly, and I could see his muscles, tense. One of his hands was squeezed tight into a fist, and his blue eyes were like ice staring into my soul.
'Deeks,' I whispered, uncertain as to what was going through his head.
'Kens…' He paused for a moment, thinking, before continuing, and ploughing through all the walls, fences and doors like a steamroller. 'If I told you I loved you, would you say it back?'
I opened my mouth to answer, but the words that sprang to mind refused to be translated into speech.
He saw my hesitation. 'Right. So that's how it is.'
Finally, my voice started to work again. 'No, Deeks…' My voice cracked as I said his name, and I realised how wrong it was. He'd changed his name when he was sixteen, changed it from Brandel to Deeks. 'Marty…'
He stepped forward and took my shaking, suddenly cold, clammy hands in his warm, firm ones. 'I love you, Kensi. Can you say the same back?'
My eyes filled with tears as the sudden, harsh truth struck, and I let go of his hands.
'Right.' His usually sparking blue eyes became dull and lifeless. 'So that's how it is.'
'Marty, I love you, I do, but I'm not in love with you.'
'Sure.' He sounded so dejected that my heart broke a little bit more.
Here's the truth; I am in love with Marty Deeks. It's like nothing I've ever experienced before; it's like looking at my life in a mirror – everything's almost the same, but there's a small difference.
And now, there's a huge difference. We got into a huge fight – words were exchanged, and I'm ashamed to say it, but I hit him. Numerous times. And he was a perfect gentleman, and didn't hit back. And when I broke down and cried, because I knew this would happen, because whenever anything good happens to me, I just screw it up, he held me. He let me cry on his shoulder, wiped the tears away and then kissed me goodbye.
And we haven't spoken since.
What could be worse…?
I miss her. There's a hole where my heart used to be, and for something that's not there anymore, it sure hurts a lot.
I miss being her 'dealer', the person who would ply her with candy. There's a whole box of candy in my desk, and no-one to eat it.
I miss the way that she would smile at me when I said something idiotic, or made a weird comment on the case.
I miss her polychrome eyes, her wide smile, her perfectly tanned skin, her individual dress sense (I mean, who other than Kensi could pull of steel-toe boots with skinny jeans and a leather jacket?).
I miss the way we worked so perfectly together, like we were two pieces of a puzzle that fitted seamlessly together and were made to be together. It's why I thought that we could be great together. Obviously, I was wrong.
Lights will guide you home…
I walked into the bullpen, ready to face another day of tension and awkwardness. And was met with a complete shock.
Deeks' desk was bare. Like, sanitary, wiped down bare. Like, cleaned by someone who had committed a crime on it.
Kensi was, for once, early to work, and she stopped next to me. The coffee in her hands dropped to the floor, and she let out a choked cry. 'Where are Marty's things?' she asked.
I looked at her. 'Marty?' I hadn't heard the word "Deeks" come from her lips in the past month, and now he was "Marty"?
Hetty stepped into the bullpen with aggrieved eyes. 'Mr Deeks gave six weeks' notice at the end of last month.' She turned to Kensi. 'I thought that you knew. He gave it shortly after the tension started between you two.'
'I had no idea,' Kensi said, and when I looked at her, there were tears in her eyes.
'He cleaned out his things last night,' Hetty said. 'He asked me to give this to you.' She handed me an envelope, with "Callen" written neatly on the front.
I took it and nodded. I figured that Deeks probably would appreciate it if I read it alone, and even if he wouldn't have minded me reading it in public, I minded, especially with Kensi hanging around the bullpen with a look on her face that was reminiscent of a stray left out in the rain.
'Excuse me,' I said quietly, and made my escape to Nate's old office upstairs.
And ignite your bones…
Callen,
I owe you an explanation. Obviously. I guess I owe almost everyone an explanation. Except Hetty, of course. And Kensi. Because she knows. Because it's her.
I guess the tension between Kensi and I has always been pretty damn obvious, right? You guys think we don't know about that nickname that you lot gave us at the start? Densi? You're just lucky she hasn't overheard, or you'd all be shredded into pieces.
Well, six and a half weeks ago, I snapped. Probably the most stupid thing that I've ever done, and you're reading the words of a guy that shot his own dad. I told her that I loved her and that she was to take me or leave me. I guess you can figure out her response from our non-existent relationship.
A few days after this, when we were basically forcing us to be normal, I realised that I can't do this. I don't do well with rejection and when you add a frigid, tense Kensi to the mix, well, I snapped. Stopped talking to her. Stopped talking to you all. I know, an overreaction, but it was either that or I yelled at you all and then did something that got me shot. And most likely, it would've been her that did the shooting.
So I handed in my six weeks' notice. Figured I'd be better off in a place where the people openly hated me.
Now, I am going to ask you to do me a huge favour, Callen. I want you to tell Kensi the truth. And the truth is this.
This is not her fault. I was the idiot that was unprofessional and fell in love with someone that I had no business loving. She thinks that this is her fault. I know she does, because she thinks that everyone she loves leaves her, and she thinks that it's her fault. It is not her fault.
Anyway, Callen, I think we had a good run. You know, besides me getting shot and then that whole fiasco with the Comescus. I reckon I'll miss you. Actually, I already do.
If you ever figure out your name, call me and let me know. I'd really like to know. I mean, I'll probably still call you Callen, but just knowing your name would be very cool.
Tell Sam, Eric and Nell that I'm sorry I didn't say goodbye in person, but writing this letter was difficult enough. And Kensi… Don't leave her alone, Callen. She'll be hurting, and I'm counting on you to make it better. Her "big brothers".
Bye, Callen. Look after her. I know I can trust you to do that.
Sincerely, Marty Deeks.
P.S. There's a box in the bottom drawer of my desk. Can you give it to Kensi? It'd just to go waste if I took it with me.
I put down my pen, and wiped away the tears that had accumulated in my eyes during the writing with the palms of my hands. I tucked the letter in an envelope, and with a last look at the bullpen, I walked away.
And I will try to fix you…
The silence in the bullpen was deafening. I was on the point of screaming, just to break it. And then Callen re-entered the bullpen, the letter in his hands and a sad look in his eyes.
Sam, Eric and Nell looked at him expectantly, clearly thinking that he'd a have a reasonable explanation for the suddenly disappearance of their LAPD liaison officer.
He cleared his throat weakly before turning to the two techs and his partner. 'He said to say sorry for not saying goodbye.'
Nell's eyes widened. 'What…? He's gone?'
'He resigned,' Callen said.
'Did he say why?' Sam asked, looking at me.
Callen shook his head, but I knew he was lying. Of course Deeks had told him why he'd quit, so that he wouldn't come after me and demand answers.
Suddenly, Hetty appeared in the entrance to the bullpen. 'I'm requesting your presence in the Ops Centre,' she said quietly, almost subduedly. She nodded to Callen, before leaving.
'Kensi,' he said quietly as I turned to leave. I turned back reluctantly, with a sigh. I thought I knew what he was about to say.
'Callen…'
He held up a hand to silence me, and I did. I didn't really want to speak, anyway.
He walked over to Deeks' – sorry, the vacant desk, and opened the bottom drawer. He pulled out a familiar blue box.
'He said to give you this,' he said in a hoarse voice.
I stared at the box. I was very familiar with that box. It was the box that he used to keep my junk food stash in.
I moved forward, and opened it. It was filled to the brim with my favourite candies. 'Oh, Deeks,' I whispered. And I burst into tears.
And high up above or down below…
Kensi was sobbing over a blue box. Kensi, who didn't (openly) shed a tear when Deeks was shot, or during the whole fiasco with her dad. Kensi, who only let a few tears escape when Dom died. She was sobbing over a blue box.
'Eric?'
I jumped. 'Yeah, Hetty?' I asked, silently berating myself for drifting off.
She smiled slightly at me before patting my arm. 'We all feel this loss strongly,' she said. 'Come on, now, open the folder labelled GoldenRetriever91.'
I sighed and began to type, but not before Kensi and Callen entered the Ops Centre. Kensi's face was tear-streaked, and black mascara was mixed in with the tears to make a truly interesting looking Kensi.
'You okay?' Sam asked, putting a hand on Kensi's arm.
She paused before shaking her head. 'No.'
I almost choked on my Red Bull. Before Deeks, Kensi would never admit a weakness, and even if she was almost dying, she was "fine". But now…
Deeks had softened Kensi. She actually admitted that she wasn't okay. Her standard response of "fine" was now null and void.
But now, even if Kensi admitted that she was "not fine", there was no-one to make it better.
I sighed and went on with my work. We needed Deeks.
When you're too in love to let it go…
Who knew that a photograph could be so… depressing. It's been three weeks. Three long, long weeks without Kensi. I found a photo of us the other day. It'd been taken coming off of a case, and we were both absolutely exhausted, but I'd cracked a joke, a joke that I don't even remember anymore, and we'd both cracked up into laughter and just didn't stop. Nell had taken out her iPhone and taken a picture of us, leaning on each other and against my desk. Kensi's eyes were alight with laughter, and that familiar smile was on her face. I was looking at her, smiling as well, and before, there'd been a look in my eyes that I hadn't been able to name. Or hadn't wanted to name. But now I could. It was love.
I missed being part of a team. I missed being part of a partnership. I missed her.
'Deeks. Deeks!'
My head jerked up, and I dropped the pen that I'd been playing with.
A detective that worked the homicide beat was standing in front of my desk.
'Um… Dt. Thomas, right?' I asked, putting the picture away in my top drawer.
'Yeah. I hear you have experience working homicides, yeah?' he asked, green eyes looking me over.
'Yeah. I've worked homicides, among other things,' I said carelessly, picking up with pen again.
'You worked with NCIS,' he said.
'Yeah. And then I quit.' I threw the pen into a mug on my desk and stared challengingly up at him. 'You want something?'
'They say you've been nothing but trouble since you came back.' Unasked, he sat down in the chair opposite my desk.
I shrugged. 'Yeah? Maybe being part of a big federal agency gave me a big head.'
'From what I hear, there was a girl.'
I snapped up in my chair. 'She was not a girl. If she was here, she was slap the taste right out of your mouth!'
'So it was that woman that the shields saw you hanging around with,' Thomas said.
'Might've been, might not have been,' I said, gritting my teeth.
'Look, I don't really care why you quit NCIS,' Thomas began.
'You're the first,' I muttered.
'I just need an undercover's opinion on my case,' he continued. 'And according to basically everyone, you're the best. Also, though, you're supposed to be laid back. I'm not getting those vibes at the moment, though.'
I stretched out, and leaned back in my chair, yawning. 'Alright, let's just get this over with. What do you need?'
But if you never try, you'll never know…
I sat in my car outside Deeks' apartment. The windows were dark, but that could just mean that he was asleep. At least he could sleep. I still lay awake at night, wishing that his warm body lay sleeping next to mine.
I'd made a mistake. A big mistake. That much was very, very clear. I missed him, so much. I felt like I was missing half of myself.
And now I was here. Again. I've made the trek to Deeks' apartment many, many times since he left. I've tried to get up the courage to go up to his apartment, to confess that I've made the mother of all mistakes, to beg him to come back into my life. And although I'm a woman who can face flying bullets, I can't find the courage to face my own partner. Ex-partner, that is.
'You stupid, stupid, stupid person!' I suddenly screamed at myself, not caring if I woke someone. No. This would not do. I was going to go up there and confront him and tell him just how much he broke my heart when he left. And then I was going to leave, and if he followed, that was his choice.
I got out of my car, and was at his front door before my mind caught up to what I was doing, but it was too late, because at that point, I was pounding on his front door.
'Marty Deeks, you get your butt out here RIGHT NOW!' I yelled. No lights came on, but that just could be because he was ignoring me. 'Don't you dare ignore me, Deeks! I know you're in there!'
Suddenly, his neighbour's door opened.
'No, he isn't, honey,' the older woman told me. 'Unless you know something that I don't, and it's unlikely, because I've still got Monty, our lovely Marty is still out there somewhere.'
'Shit,' I swore, resting my forehead against his front door. 'He's under again.'
'You'll be okay, honey,' she said, patting my shoulder. 'Actually, I've been hoping that either you or Marty would pop by. My sister went into the hospital yesterday with a broken leg, and I can't take Monty with me. I don't suppose that you could take him?'
I sighed. 'Marty and I aren't really on the best of terms at the moment,' I said slowly.
'Yes, well, I have noticed that you haven't been around,' she replied. 'But I figured that you were busy, with all that police work that you do.'
I sighed again. 'Um… how long did Marty say that he'd be away?' I asked.
'Well, honey, he left last month and said that it could last for as long as a year,' she replied.
'Oh,' I said softly. 'Well, um… sure. I'll take Monty.'
'Oh, honey, thank you,' the lady said. 'I'll just get his things.'
I sighed. If Marty Deeks wanted his dog back, he'd have to go through me first.
Just what you're worth…
I narrowed my eyes at Callen. I was sure that he'd try to trip me up by saying something that would distract me from my ultimate goal – King Of The World. I knew I could do it. I was two points up, and I only needed to get two more points to cement my win.
And suddenly, there was a loud bark. A very familiar bark. A bark that I never thought I'd hear again.
And when I looked at Callen, he looked as shocked as I was.
'Deeks?' we both said, turning around and expecting to see a shaggy headed detective with an equally shaggy dog on a leash. Instead, we saw said shaggy dog, on said leash, with a dark haired woman with odd eyes wearing a purple plaid shirt.
'Not Deeks,' Kensi said sadly. 'Just Monty.'
'Has something happened to Deeks?' I asked gently, kneeling down and rubbing Monty's tummy. He didn't look especially unhappy.
'No,' Kensi said softly.
'But you've been talking to him?' Callen asked. 'I mean, you have his dog, you must've talked to him.'
Kensi shook her head. 'I, um, went to his apartment last night. His neighbour came out and told me that he'd gone undercover and wouldn't be back for a while, and she was taking care of Monty. But now she can't take care of Monty because she has to go out of town, so she asked me to take care of him.'
Callen stepped forward and took the leash from her hand before reached back and handing the leash to me.
'Kens, why did you go to his apartment?' he asked gently.
Kensi bit her bottom lip before looking into her friend's eyes. 'I went to his apartment because…' Her eyes filled with tears. 'I made a bad mistake, Callen.'
'Sh…' Callen reached forward and pulled her into his arms. 'It's gonna be okay, Kens.'
'Can you promise me that, Callen?' With red eyes, she pulled back and looked at him, pleading.
Cursing all of the gods that existed, Callen cupped her face in his hands. 'I promise.'
Lights will guide you home…
'Marty.' Thomas's green eyes looked at me from beneath a low brimmed ball cap, and he pushed a mug across the table to me. 'You look like you need this.'
I picked up the mug, wrapping my hands around it and taking a gulp. Finding it to my satisfaction, I quickly drank the rest. 'Can I have another?' I asked.
'Yeah, of course. And eat, too.' He waved at the waitress before pushing a hamburger at me. I snatched it up and began gnawing at it.
'Have you got any leads?' I asked, my mouth half full. I washed the mouthful down with a swig of coffee.
'Yeah. I got a heap more than I was expecting when I got a call from a Hetty Lange? Said you knew her.'
I shook my head, smiling. 'That woman will never leave me alone.'
'She her?' Thomas asked.
I shook my head. 'Nah. She recruited me to NCIS. I guess she has a continued interest in my wellbeing.'
'Definitely. Some of the stuff she gave me, well, it's so classified I doubt the President would have access to it.'
I smirked. 'That'd be right.'
'She also told me to tell you that you're missed.'
I ground my teeth and tried to shrug carelessly. It came off more like a fit.
'When she sent me the files, there was a letter underneath it all. Your name on it.' Thomas pushed it over towards me. 'I didn't read it.'
'Don't really care if you did,' I muttered, picking it up. My name was neatly inscribed on the front in Hetty's old fashioned handwriting, penned in her favourite black fountain pen.
'Anyway, I've got to go, Deeks,' Thomas said. 'I'll see you in two days, same place, okay?'
I nodded, absently fingering the seal of the envelope. 'Yeah.'
He shook his head at me and left.
And ignite your bones…
Mr Deeks,
You're missed. By Mr Callen and Mr Hanna, who both call it eerily quiet without you, by Mr Beale and Miss Jones who miss your offbeat sense of humour and respectively your surfing advice and positive attitude, by myself – I also find it disconcertingly quiet without you, and the Ops Centre is dull and lacklustre without your cheek constantly interrupting the briefings – but mostly by your partner.
I know you think that she's not your partner anymore, but you were always destined to be partners, and partners you will remain until one of your sad but inevitable deaths. And it bloody well better not be yours on this assignment, Mr Deeks!
I've sent you some very classified information that will assist you on this assignment, and you need to remember what I said to you when you left – no matter what, I will provide assistance if you ask for it – and do not hesitate to ask. You won't have to fear a reunion with your erstwhile partner; you'll only deal with me and perhaps Mr Callen, whom I know you have confided in.
But that isn't the real reason that I've sent you this letter. It's just a very convenient thing in which to send that information. The real reason?
Kensi is very slowly wasting away. She doesn't eat, she only sleeps when she passes out, and she has caught cold three times since you left – the woman who I've barely seen sniffle before. She needs you.
When you come home from this assignment (and I say when, not if), you won't be retrieving your canine companion from your neighbour. You'll have to go through Kensi – your neighbour had to go stay with her sister, and she had to leave Monty behind. Kensi dropped by your apartment with the resolution to mend a few bridges, and instead found an empty apartment and a neighbour in a fix that she gladly solved. Your neighbour had to leave town for a couple of months and could not take our small canine friend with her. So now Kensi has possession of your little companion.
She's become a little better ever since she took Monty into her home. She has company that provides unconditional love and a reminder of you, and I believe that that has soothed her frazzled nerves somewhat. She's actually sleeping, I think, but what we really need to help her is you.
So you are going to come back, and come back here safely, you hear me, Mr Deeks? There is a reason that I recruited you to NCIS, and this team specifically and you need to come back here so that I can show you why.
Yours sincerely, Henrietta Lange.
I capped my fountain pen and let out a disgruntled sigh as I read the letter over. 'You better make it back here, Mr Deeks, or I'll go to Hell and drag you back myself.'
And I will try to fix you…
I've never seen Kensi so… sad… before. I sit here with my head resting on her thigh, and she absently pets me as she watches the strange, thin women on the television screen walk up and down a narrow path. I wonder where Master is – he's been gone for so long. I mean, he's been gone for longer, and left me with the nice old lady with the strange smelling apartment, but this time I cannot help but think that this is different.
Kensi stops petting me and I feel a drop of something fall onto my head. I look up, poking my tongue out to reassuringly lick her hand. She's crying. She does that a lot now.
I know what she needs. She's sitting here eating from the biggest bag of potato chips that I've ever seen, and that's not what she needs. She needs Master. But Master's not here, and he hasn't really spoken with Kensi for a while, so I must do what I can to distract her. It's my job for now.
I jump off of the sofa and pick up my favourite squeaky football, dropping it at her feet with a small bark. Hint, hint, as Master used to say.
She smiles. 'Alright, Monty. Let's go out and play.'
Tears stream down your face…
I cried out in pain as he struck me across the face with the butt of his Sig Sauer.
'Will you talk yet?' he asked callously, steel-grey eyes staring directly into my own.
I stared back. 'No,' I managed through gritted teeth, before spitting out blood. I thought, idly, that he might have knocked loose a tooth.
'You just did,' he pointed out.
I clenched my jaw and stared mutely at him.
'Detective Marty Deeks,' he said, slowly drawing out the syllables. He took out my police badge, the one that I thought I'd carefully hidden away at the bottom of a very tightly packed drawer and looked at it scornfully before throwing it into the dirt at my feet. 'If you haven't figured it out yet, I'll fill in the blanks for you.'
I spat more blood and saliva.
'I know that you're undercover about the other cop that got killed a while back. And I also know a fair bit about you, Mr Deeks. You see, I have a contact in the LAPD.'
'Who?' I managed to cough out.
He laughed. 'I'm not about to tell you.'
'Then what is the point of this?'
He slugged me heavily in the jaw. 'I've been trying to get you to tell me that.'
He smirked, before taking something else out of his pocket. I gritted my teeth, recognising it as my cell phone, the other thing that I thought I'd safely hidden.
'She looks a bit special,' he said, pulling up a picture of Kensi and showing it to me. It was my favourite one, one of her laughing with Callen and Sam on either side – her protective bookends. 'She's important to you, isn't she?'
I still said nothing.
'Special Agent Kensi Blye,' he said, rolling the name on his tongue.
I lashed out, struggling against my handcuffs and trying to harm him as much as I could. 'You touch a hair on her head, and you'll wish I'd killed you now by the time they're done with you!'
He laughed in my face. 'Mr Deeks… How are you supposed to do that when you're tied up in my basement?'
When you lose something you cannot replace…
Hetty came into the bullpen with a grim look in her face. Kensi stopped in her petting of Monty to look at our diminutive boss. 'Is something wrong?' she asked. 'Has something happened?'
She looked to the man standing behind her. 'This is Detective Thomas. He works for the Homicide Division of LAPD, and has been working as Detective Deeks' handler while Deeks has been undercover.'
'And before you say anything, you can blame this whole thing on me,' Thomas interrupted. 'I was the one that went to Deeks for help, and I was the one that didn't try to stop him from going undercover. I should've. He seemed too eager.'
'Hetty, what's happened?' I asked, sitting down next to Kensi in Callen's seat and putting a calming hand on her shoulder.
'It's Mr Deeks. He's gone missing.'
Kensi immediately paled, and I feared that she would pass out. 'Deeks?' she asked softly. 'He's… missing?'
'We were supposed to meet this morning for breakfast. He didn't turn up,' Thomas said. 'I went to his cover house – it was trashed and he was gone.'
'Oh, God,' Kensi whimpered.
'Kens,' I murmured, putting an arm around her shoulders.
'No!' She threw my arm and suddenly stood, startling Monty. 'This is my fault, Sam! It's all my fault!'
'Kensi.' Callen reached out to her, and tried to calm her down, but she just dissolved into tears.
'I should've told him how I felt. How I really felt,' she sobbed. 'He never would've left.'
Tears stream down your face and I…
I curled up in the corner of my concrete cell, and groaned softly at the pain that my protesting ribs made.
'I'm sorry, Kensi,' I whispered, tears gathering in the corners of my eyes as I fought to keep conscious. 'I'm so sorry.'
And then suddenly, she appeared, materialising out of thin air.
'What are you doing, Deeks?' she asked sharply, glaring at me with that look that I knew so very well. 'Curling up in the corner? That's not the Deeks that I know. The Deeks that I know wouldn't curl up in the corner and wait to die. The Deeks I know would fight. Fight to get out. Fight to get back to me.'
'There is no you!' I yelled back. 'There's no more you and me, Kensi, and that's why I'm not fighting. Because there's nothing to fight for!'
Suddenly, she swooped forward and slapped me hard across the face. 'Marty Deeks, you know that that's wrong!'
I scrambled even further back into the corner. 'Kensi, I…'
'Deeks, I don't want your lame excuses. Fight. Because you know that there's something worth fighting for.'
And when I opened my eyes, realising that I'd passed out from sheer pain and exhaustion, I could swear that her scent lingered in the air.
Tears stream down your face…
I watched my partner swing out at the bag in pure, unadulterated frustration and anger.
'Sam,' I said softly. 'Hitting the bag isn't going to make Deeks come back safe and sound.'
'No, but it will stop me from hitting Deeks when I get my hands on him. How's Kensi?'
'At the moment? Nonresponsive. I wish Nate were here.'
'If Nate were here, none of this would ever have happened,' Sam grunted. 'He'd have known that something was up, and this whole fiasco with Kensi and Deeks never would've happened.' He hit the bag again.
'Sam, you're going to hurt yourself. You can't save Deeks injured.'
He dropped his head and looked down at the floor, steadying the bag with his gloved hands. 'You're right. Come on, G. Let's go save our LAPD detective.'
I promise you I will learn from my mistakes…
'Excuse me, Agent Blye?' I lifted my head from my cradled hands and looked up with tear-filled eyes at the detective who stood before me. The detective who wasn't Deeks.
I cleared my throat with a quiet 'ahem' before saying, 'Can I help you, Detective Thomas?'
I was curled up in the corner on the floor, and he squatted down to be at my level. 'You don't look like you're dealing with this very well,' he said quietly.
I placed my hand on Monty's back, gently rubbing. He curled up next to me, resting his head in my lap. 'He was my partner. He was my friend.'
'Look, I don't know the whole story… I don't want to know the whole story. I just know that whatever happened, Deeks regretted it. Even before the whole undercover case came up, he was a different man. I didn't really know him, but others did and they all said that he was different. Grumpy, uptight – hell, he started shaving and combing his hair. At least, until he went undercover.'
I looked up and met his eyes. 'I…' My voice wavered and I had to take a couple of seconds to steady my voice. 'I made a bad mistake, and it drove him away. And now I might not even see him again to tell him that I did make a mistake. If I could just start all over again… I would.'
He reached out and gently squeezed my shoulder. 'Deeks is going to come out of this alive and I promise you, you'll get the chance to apologise and make things right.'
I looked up at him and managed to give him a small smile. 'I'll hold you to that.'
Tears stream down your face and I…
I stared at my computer screen in disbelief before jumping out of my seat and absolutely sprinting for the exit before standing at the top of the stairs and screaming 'I've got Deeks!'
That sure got some attention. Suddenly, Callen, Sam, Kensi and Detective Thomas were sprinting towards me, and were basically on top of me before I could move.
'Come on,' Kensi grunted, grabbing the back of my t-shirt and pulling me along with her at a break-neck speed. 'What have you got, Eric?' She shoved me in the direction of my chair, and I almost fell into it.
'I managed to turn on Deeks' cover's cell phone.'
'You can do that?' Thomas asked, looking at me, alarmed.
'Dude, you're talking to the guy who broke the internet.'
'Eric. Deeks,' Callen said, urgently.
'I've tracked the signal to a warehouse in South Hollywood. Address is on your phones. Good luck, guys.'
And they all ran out of the Ops Centre as fast as they'd run in.
Lights will guide you home…
The shouting woke me up. The shouting and the gunfire. And then I heard the best four letters of the alphabet.
'NCIS! Put down your weapons!'
Immediately, I struggled to my feet, but the pain in my ribs immediately dropped me back to my knees.
'Damn it,' I groaned, bowing my head and knowing that I'd just done even more damage to myself.
Suddenly, the door of my prison burst open, and four flashlights swam in the air before me. I groaned at the sudden brightness but it didn't matter that much because pain was making my vision swim.
I tried to say something, but ended up coughing, and when I stopped, I realised that I was left with a bitter, metallic taste in my mouth.
A gentle hand was wiping something from the corner of my mouth, and I felt myself being lifted from the cold ground.
A voice was pleading, 'Stay with me, Deeks. Come on, Deeks. We did not go through all of this for you to die of a freaking broken rib.'
'Oh, good,' I managed. 'You've already figured out what's killing me. You gonna do some sort of cool field surgery that the Navy teaches you on me?'
'No chance, Deeks. No chance.'
And ignite your bones…
I paced the hallway, back and forth, back and forth, back and forth.
'Kensi,' Sam said, watching me as one might watch a tennis game. 'Sit down. Pacing is not going to make them fix Deeks faster.'
I paused in my pacing, sighing and bowing my head. 'I can't stay still, Sam. If I stay still, all I can do is think, and if I start thinking I'm gonna end up punching a hole in the wall.'
'Hey,' Callen said, approaching us with three coffees in his hands. Thomas was by his side. 'Any news?'
Sam shook his head, taking a coffee. 'Nothing.'
Callen handed me one. 'How are you holding up?'
'Sam keeps telling me to sit down.'
He smiled sympathetically, placing a warm hand on my shoulder. 'You think he was this calm when I was shot?'
'He was,' I told him. 'Sat there listening to his iPod for the majority of the time.'
'Wow. Really not feeling the love, Sam,' Callen said jokingly.
Suddenly, a doctor came out of the operating theatre.
'Marty Deeks?' he asked, looking at us.
'Yes?' I asked, almost running to him.
He looked at us all with a smile on his face. 'Mr Deeks is going to be absolutely fine.'
I think he said more, but I couldn't tell, because the moment after he said that, the world did a funny swoopy thing and the next thing I knew, Deeks was looking at me from a hospital bed with a wide grin on his face.
And I will try…
She raised her head slowly, looking at me with a strange look on her face. She seemed to be thinking, before saying, 'Hi.'
I smiled at her. 'Hi back.'
She shook her head briefly, as if to get rid of the cobwebs, before asking, 'How did I…?'
'Apparently, you fainted. Also, apparently, you haven't been sleeping, haven't been eating and just haven't been generally taking care of yourself.' I picked up the familiar green object sitting on my bedside table and tossed it her way. 'I saved that for you. Figured you'd want it.'
She caught it with razor sharp reflexes and looked at it carefully. 'Green Jello,' she said slowly, before looking at me with a smile.
I took a breath. 'I missed you, Fern.'
She took a breath before blurting out, 'I love you, Marty.'
My eyes widened – and don't tell me that I can't know that, because I was there and I'm damn sure that they did. 'I…'
'What? You're not gonna say it back? Tell me you've moved on?' She gave me a teasing grin as she swung her legs over the side of the cot that they'd set up next to my bed so that she could sit up properly.
I was still too shell-shocked to say much. Maybe she should've waited a little while longer to tell me this. You know, when I hadn't come straight out of surgery to close a hole in my lungs? 'I…'
'Figures,' she said, starting to eat the Jello. 'The one time I want you to say something, you're lost for words. When I want you to shut up, you never do.'
I opened my mouth to say something, but was stopped by Callen and Sam parading into the room.
'Deeks!' Sam crowed. 'You're awake.'
'Yup,' I managed, giving him a grin.
'It's good to see you again, Deeks,' Callen said, giving me a rare smile. 'And it's nice to see you mostly in one piece.'
'I am in one piece.' I quickly peeked under the blankets to make sure that my legs were still attached. 'Aren't I?'
'Come on, guys, don't wind him up,' Kensi scolded, shaking her head at the older agents. 'He just had lung surgery.'
'Oh, trust me, I'd rather be wound up by them than ignored by LAPD,' I said to her.
'But you're not,' Callen said, pointing to my bedside table.
I frowned. 'Who the hell sent me flowers?'
'Detective Thomas couldn't think of anything else to give you,' Kensi explained. 'Wanted to show you that he appreciated the work you did on this case.'
'It was that or a teddy bear,' Sam said.
'I think it was sweet,' Kensi said, finishing the Jello and bouncing off of her own bed only to perch on the side of his.
I reached up and plucked one of the white flowers out of the vase and tucked it into her hair behind one ear. 'They look a lot better on you,' I said honestly, watching as she touched the delicate flower with a finger and a smile.
'Come on, Sam,' Callen said. 'Let's leave the lovebirds and get some coffee from a decent coffee shop. You want anything, Kens?'
She thought about it for a moment before asking, 'A sandwich?'
Callen gave almost a relieved smile. 'Sure.' He and Sam gave me a grin before leaving.
'What was that about?' I asked.
'What do you mean?' she asked, too quickly.
'The look Callen had when you said you wanted a sandwich. He looked… relieved.'
She shrugged, and took the flower out of her hair, playing with it and avoiding my eyes. 'Guess I haven't been too hungry, lately.'
'You? You eat Twinkies for breakfast and lasagne for a snack,' I said.
'I used to,' she muttered, moving so that she could rest her head on my shoulder. 'I missed you, Deeks.'
'Hey…' Trying not to wince, I wrapped an arm around her shoulder.
She raised tearful eyes to mine. 'I made a bad mistake, Deeks. I never should've let you go. I was just being… rational.'
Unable to stop myself, I dipped my head and brushed my lips against her temple. 'Kens, just because something has happened before does not mean it'll happen again.'
She smiled ruefully at me. 'Seems to me that I'm stuck in a pattern where nothing works.'
'Except there's one thing different this time,' I said.
'And what's that?' she asked, with a curious sparkle in her eye.
'Me.'
She smiled before dipping her head and gently brushing her lips against mine. She lifted a hand and gently cupped my cheek, her forehead resting against mine, her sweet breath mixing with mine. 'I love you.'
'I love you too.'
To fix you.
…
A/N: Well? I absolutely adore this song – it's by Coldplay and if you haven't heard it, I suggest you Google it – it's so beautiful.
I hope the story fit the song – I think it did. At least, I hope it did.
If you stuck with me for this whole story (my longest one-shot; 7, 851 words) I thank you very much, and I hope that you'll take just a minute longer to write a few words in a review.
For those fans of "It's What You Think It Is (Until It Isn't)" and "I Write Sins Not Tragedies", I am working on updating, but I've got a cold and three math tests to study for, so it's going very slowly. Thank you for sticking with me while I juggle everything, and I promise that updates will happen soon.
Please review – reviews brighten my day.
XD PurpleHipposRock