Author Note: I recently discovered NCIS: Los Angeles in reruns and binge watched all the episodes in the span of several weeks. I was a little bit sad when I was all caught up but I do look forward to seeing how the show will develop over the rest of the current season. Each character is fantastic but the development of the relationship between Deeks and Kensi is probably my favorite theme. However, I think they missed out on some key development points. First, how could they have cut that scene from Spoils of War? Really?! Second, they didn't really explore Kensi's recovery from her captivity in Afghanistan and the impact it had on both her and Deeks. I don't think she bounced back as quickly as it was portrayed from one episode to the next. Who would? The scene in Praesidium where she broke down in Deeks' arms was great but I think they could have expanded on it more. This story was triggered by that thought.

Deek's POV

Kensi finally emerged from the interrogation room where she had been held for the last hour. I knew she had been undergoing intense questioning by Agent Wallace and I was concerned that the Afghanistan mission might have featured prominently in those questions. A mission that Kensi avoided talking about at all costs. I could see that she was trying to act like nothing was wrong but I was sure that wasn't the case. Her movements were incredibly stiff when she was normally so fluid and sexy in her every action. When the Agent and her cronies departed I specifically asked Kensi if she was okay and she tried to brush off my concern. However I wasn't buying it. We had been partners for years, lovers for one glorious night, and I knew she wasn't okay. I could almost see her pulling inward. A protective mechanism she had honed to perfection. I worked toward engaging her in some light banter but I was having a hard time getting her to cooperate.

"You gotta make good contact. Otherwise it doesn't count."

As she turned toward me, I was able to see her expression for the first time, and it confirmed what I had expected from watching her body language. My partner was barely holding it together.

"Oh, my God. Come here."

I pulled her into my arms and felt the tension vibrating through her body. The shaky breath she released told me that she needed to be held. I knew she didn't want to talk about what happened in Afghanistan but she desperately needed to do so.

"It's okay," I told her.

"I just want to forget. . . . . what happened," were the emotion filled words she choked out.

I wished that I could turn back time and prevent it from happening in the first place. Neither one of us was going to get what we wanted.

Even these many weeks later, I still really didn't know what had happened while she was in captivity. But I had plenty of nightmares about it. A trained female US operative in the hands of a male dominated terrorist organization? I was well aware that she had been victimized emotionally and physically. My biggest fear was that she had also been sexually abused. But how do you work a question like that into a conversation? It just wasn't going to happen. She was always accusing me of not saying what I meant but her communication skills weren't much better. She just avoided undesirable topics entirely.

As I held her I remembered back to my first glimpse of her when we had been reunited. I'd never seen her so pale and the look in her eyes had broken my heart. They held the type of dark pain that I had never wanted her to experience. In those first precious moments when I was able to wrap my arms around her, I did my best to support her and make her feel safe. She had showed more emotion in that short period of time than she had in all the weeks since. Once we boarded the plane home she shut down all conversation about her experience. Anytime I tried to bring it up she assured me she was fine. I hated when she used that word when it was clear she was anything but fine.

During my years with her I had learned that Kensi wasn't someone who processed strong emotion easily. She was all about control and tended to handle emotion in ways that had been successful for her in the past. Basically the "wall it off and don't think about it" coping method. Yes, I knew she had ultimately talked to Nate, and been cleared to return, but it was my belief that she said exactly what she needed to say in order to accomplish her goal of being released back out in the Field. Playing undercover characters was what she did for a living and she was good at being other people. Very believable. If she wanted to be the "nothing rocks my world" Kensi, she would be able to pull it off, even if she wasn't that person. I think Hetty had initially been suspicious of the clearance too which had resulted in Kensi being paired with Eric. Yet that wasn't the solution to the issue either and thus she was placed out in the Field with me.

While we were in the Field, working a case, she was her normal self. Off the clock was a different matter. She was spending more time in the gym than normal. Losing weight that she couldn't really afford to lose. The heavy bag was getting the crap beat out of it on a regular basis and I wasn't the only one on the team who had realized she was pouring out her anger, fear, and frustration. I had watched as both Callen and Sam looked like they wanted to say something, but neither one was sure how to start the conversation. After all, they didn't spend nearly as much time with her as I did, and even I couldn't get the conversation started. Any attempts to begin a dialogue about Afghanistan were immediately shut down.

I knew she wasn't sleeping well, which was something no else was aware of, except maybe one other person. Hetty appeared to be aware of all things at all times. I wouldn't put it past her to know this too. I had taken to making sure Kensi was so exhausted by the end of the day that she either nodded off on the couch at my place or I just outlasted her at her place. During the couple times a night that she startled awake with memories or nightmares, I wasn't sure which since she wouldn't talk about it, I could feel her watching me. If I was lucky, she would run her fingers through my hair before drifting off again. If I wasn't lucky, I would hear her changing into shorts and a T-shirt while I was "sleeping" before taking off for a nighttime run. Trying to outrun her demons. I wanted to tell her that she couldn't outrun what was inside of her but knew she would deny that there was a problem at all. This rare glimpse of her true feelings showed that more healing needed to be done.

"I know you want to forget. I know you do, but you can't. And the harder you try, the harder it's just gonna fight back, trust me. You just gotta let it out. You gotta make peace with it."

Even with the warmth of her tears starting to moisten my shirt, I could feel her gathering herself back together to stuff all the emotion inside. I wasn't sure how to best help her make peace with it. How do you teach someone to deal with their emotions when that person usually acted like they didn't have any negative emotions at all?

I hadn't pushed "our thing" since we had returned because I felt like she was just trying to keep her head above water. I didn't think she could handle anything else that involved emotions. Now I was rethinking that approach. I had gotten the distinct impression a few minutes ago that she wanted more than what we currently were. Maybe the uncertainty of "our thing" was causing her to feel like she had no safe foundation? I hoped not. It was going to be hard to get her to really open up about what had happened. What the events had done to her. If she didn't feel secure that was just never going to happen.

She leaned away from me wiping at her tears and avoiding eye contact as she often did when real emotion was involved. I cupped her face between my hands and tilted her chin so she would look at me. Her next words surprised me.

"I'm so much stronger than this."

"You are strong. One of the strongest people I know. You survived an experience that would have broken most people."

"Did I?"

Her voice was barely above a whisper and tears filled her eyes again before slowly trailing down her cheeks. I did something totally out of character. I scooped her up in my arms. The surprise gesture caused her to wrap her arms around my neck and bury her face back in my shoulder. At this moment, I didn't care if the cameras were on in the boathouse. Hetty, Granger, and the whole team could be watching for all I cared. She needed this time to decompress after her chat with Agent Wallace. If anyone was stupid enough to interrupt these moments, and cause Kensi to feel even slightly embarrassed, they would regret it.

I settled us down onto the couch and rested my cheek on top of her head while hugging her as close to me as possible. The tears were silent except for quiet hitches in her breathing now and then. When they finally began to abate, probably more due to exhaustion than a lack of feeling, I began to speak words I probably should have said weeks ago.

"You're going to be okay again. There will come a time when this isn't so fresh in your mind but in order for that to happen you have to let it out. You have to take the time to talk about what happened. Even though I know you don't want to do it."

When she looked up at me I placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

"We're going to be okay too. I'm not going anywhere. We have plenty of time to explore "our thing"."

She looked at me for a couple seconds as if she was trying to see the thoughts inside my head. In the end she went with a simple answer.

"Okay."

She sighed and rested her head back against my shoulder. She had to be exhausted from riding the waves of her emotions. I was tired from the many nights of broken sleep and the general worry. It wasn't long before she drifted off to sleep in the silence and I wasn't far behind. When I woke hours later it was to find that I had stretched out on the small couch pulling Kensi on top of me. Her head was on my shoulder and I could feel the soft puffs of her breath on my neck. Her left hand was fisted in my T-shirt as if to prevent me from leaving. Not that I would ever even think about doing so. Sometime during the night a warm blanket had been tucked around us both. Obviously Hetty knew what had transpired here and I took that simple blanket as a sign of her support. She trusted that I was the best person to help Kensi and, as a result, I was certain she would never mention a word of what she had seen or heard.

I wrapped my arms tighter around her and wondered how she would be feeling today. Would she finally be ready to talk about what had really happened? Would I be ready to hear it? Or would she continue to act as if she hadn't been subjected to a horrendous experience? Continue to wall everything off while it festered inside? I wasn't sure how much longer she could continue to go on as she had been.