Title:

Something Earned

Author:

The Prickly Pear

Genre:

Friendship/Family

Rating:

K+

Summary:

Tag to "Personal." Deeks receives an unexpected visitor with an agenda.

Author's Note:

I was going through my computer the other day and came across this little one-shot collecting dust in a forgotten old folder. I've dusted it off a bit and I think it's alright to see the light of day. While it is technically a tag to the episode "Personal" it was inspired more by Callen and Deeks' behind-the-back low-five in the next episode.

Disclaimer:

All characters you recognize are the property of NCIS Los Angeles' rightful owners. This fanfiction is written solely for my amusement, no money has been made whatsoever.

Happy Reading!

Detective Marty Deeks had always been a fan of witty remarks upon waking up if anyone else was around. In the case of waking up in a hospital it tended to break the ice and lessen the tension which would undoubtedly be present. In the case of relationships it often rekindled the spark which had been there the night before and in the case of nosey partners trying to get a leg up on him, well, it was just funny. For the most part remarks of that nature came easily to him, they had been a part of his being for so long that they often sprung from his tongue without any thinking on his part and he liked it that way. The best defence was a good offence after all. Opening his eyes now, however, he found his tongue dead in his mouth, all witty comments forgotten and replaced by nothing but confusion.

"What are you doing here?" he asked weakly, shifting stiffly in an attempt to dull the pain emanating from the two bullet holes piecing his torso and all the while keeping his eyes on the figure lounging calmly in the chair both Hetty and Kensi had occupied throughout the day.

Callen didn't react visibly to the younger man's voice, choosing instead to stay leaned back in his chair with his eyes closed. He seemed to be the picture of relaxation. "You shouldn't have done that," he said finally, his voice as casual as his posture.

Deeks blinked, his confusion by no means lessened by his team leader's words. "What?"

"You could have been out of here in a couple of days," Callen clarified, his eyes remaining closed as he spoke, "Instead you went for a run, tore all your stitches out and earned yourself at least a week long stay in this place."

"My partner was in trouble," the detective said hotly, catching on to what the older man was talking about, "I had to do something!"

"Did you?" Callen asked calmly, opening his eyes at last and tilting his head slightly to one side.

Deeks felt a surge of unexpected anger at his teammate's indifferent tone and propped himself up painfully. "So you would have preferred if I just let her get shot? If I let her die? She's your teammate too Callen! It was my fault to begin with. I'm the idiot who got himself shot, not Kensi!" What had started as a forceful statement tapered off as his strength left him so, much to his disgust, the final few words sounded more like a plea than anything else.

Again the older man chose not to respond, his body language still completely relaxed and his face betraying nothing as he studied Deeks in silence. "You should be taking some deep breaths," he said finally.

"What?" Something in the back of the detective's mind told him that Callen was keeping him off balance on purpose. It was an interrogation technique they were all taught but for some reason, maybe because of the pain he was in or the fact that he'd just drained himself of what little energy he'd managed to regain, he fell for it even as he recognized what was happening.

The faintest trace of a smirk played across Callen's features almost as though he knew exactly what his teammate was thinking, which he probably did. "It'll hurt like hell but you should take a few deep breaths, you've got to be kind of dizzy after that little outburst."

Deeks managed a glare but followed the instructions regardless, hissing in pain each time he exhaled. He hated to admit it but once he got past the pain his head did feel clearer and some of his energy seemed to be returning. "Let me get this straight," he said after a moment, working to imitate Callen's level of control, "You would have preferred it if I let Kensi get shot?"

Callen raised one eyebrow questioningly. "Did I say that?" he asked easily, "I believe I said you shouldn't have done that, I never said I wasn't glad you did."

Deeks blinked. "You're glad?"

"Of course, she's part of my team."

"So that's why you're here?" the detective said slowly, "To lecture me about teamwork or something equally as exciting?"

Callen shook his head once. "No," he replied calmly, making absolutely no effort to elaborate.

Deeks very nearly rolled his eyes but remembered who he was talking to and stopped the impulse in its tracks. Making it even easier for Callen to read him would not bode well for him and he knew it. The older agent was here for a reason and Deeks was certain that he didn't want to be blindsided by it, whatever it was. Sighing he shifted once more in an attempt to get into an upright position but ended up collapsing back on his pillows with a hiss of pain. "Dammit..." he muttered under his breath, frustration evident in his voice.

He expected some kind of comment out of Callen, maybe an order to stop moving or some kind of ridicule but nothing came. Risking a quick glance at his teammate he was surprised to see a slight tightness in the muscles of his arms though it was gone so quickly he thought perhaps he may have imagined it.

"You keep doing that and they're never going to let you out," said Callen, pulling Deeks from his thoughts.

"You try lying around for hours at a time," the detective grumbled. Callen cocked an eyebrow and Deeks cursed himself mentally, remembering what Kensi had told him about their team leader's last run-in with bullets. "Okay, so, maybe you know..." he backtracked quickly.

The older man smirked slightly. "Watch it or Sam won't be the only one planning to kick your ass."

Deeks chuckled softly, taking the joke for what it was and refusing to think too long about the possible truth of the statement. He knew that Sam took security protocol seriously, granted the ex SEAL took most things seriously compared to him. It was just something they were going to have to get used to in each other; still having Callen on his side was always going to be a good thing. "So what are you doing here then, if you aren't going to lecture me on something?" he asked.

"Who said I'm not going to lecture you?" Callen asked idly, leaning back in his chair once more and folding his arms behind his head.

It was the detective's turn to smirk at those words. "Go for it then," he challenged lightly, taking the opportunity and running with it. It wasn't like Callen to leave such a chance and he had the nagging feeling that he was still playing into the older man's hands but his chest was aching again and he was beginning to tire himself out so he couldn't bring himself to care all that much.

But Callen surprised him, taking his words to heart with a shrug. "Works for me," he said calmly, making no effort to lower his arms or sit up, "Your next of kin."

Against his better judgment Deeks groan audibly. "C'mon," he sighed, "You of all people should get that I just don't have one, okay?"

Heaving a sigh the older man nodded. "Believe me I understand," he said seriously, meeting Deeks' eyes, "But I understand something else as well. When I was shot last year there was a decision that had to be made, a second surgery to get at one of the bullets they could touch the first time. It was a big risk, big reward thing and I was in no condition to make the choice. It's times like that when you need someone, Deeks." He smiled suddenly and closed his eyes. "Of course, no matter what you tell her Hetty will get her name on there somehow."

Deeks managed a weak chuckle. "The little ninja already ambushed me," he admitted, smiling to himself until a thought occurred to him which should have been there the whole time and snuffed any remaining humour out of his voice. "Hetty's your next of kin too, isn't she?"

"Yep."

A groan (the second one in as many minutes, he realized) escaped him before he could stop it. Well there it was at least… "So that's why you're here then, to tell me to get her name off? I mean, I get it, I'm just a cop, the weak link. The liaison shouldn't have the Operations Manager as his next of kin anyway…" He fell silent, a sadness he hadn't expected clawing at the inside of his damaged chest while he waited.

Callen studied him for a moment in silence. "Wrong again," he said finally, "I came here to make sure you let her put her name down. Hetty's the mother of our little family, you might as well make it official."

The detective felt a weight he didn't know he'd been carrying lift from his shoulders as a hopeful smile worked its way on to his face at the full meaning behind his team leader's words. "Thank you."

The older man shrugged and swung himself to his feet. "You earned it," he said simply, before crossing the room and pulling the door open, "Stay in bed this time."

And quite suddenly Deeks found that his tongue didn't feel so dead anymore. "You know, I think if Sam were here he'd be jealous."

Callen paused in the doorway turning back to his injured teammate. "Why's that?"

"Well, you've just been more open with me than you ever are with him."

"I've been more open than I ever am with him at work," The senior agent corrected.

"Oh, so you guys do the emotional bromance stuff when we're not around…" Deeks grinned, "That's so cute."

Callen chuckled softly and shook his head. "It's adorable," he quipped back as he stepped out into the hall and closed the door behind him.