Michelle or Deeks.
Sam has to choose one to get out alive.
He knows, way deep down in his gut that he would choose Michelle's life on any day. Wife trumps anyone on the planet on every day of the year. It's such a certain thing that he would choose Michelle that Sam suddenly pictures Deeks being killed and him being rescued.
I'm so sorry, Kens. He was threatening Michelle- I had to choose a life. I'm so sorry.
The scenario that runs through his mind is so…..words can't describe how bad it would be. The guilt alone of Deeks dying would kill him; add that to the loneliness, the anger that he knows would come from Kensi and Callen, and the blowback between Michelle and him from her going back into the game- basically, the scenario isn't an option. A minute of him sitting quietly in the dark room passes before he remembers that Sidarov is a mean SOB that doesn't negotiate.
Whatever he chooses, he's a dead man either way.
"Deeks," Sam wheezes out. His voice barely travels across the room before it's overtaken by the slow sound of a shoe sliding across the concrete floor. Unless someone else is in the room, Sam's positive that the noise has to be coming from Deeks.
"Marty, it's ok. You don't have to talk since…." Sam trails off, knowing that he'd pissed too if someone had reminded him of the trauma he had just endured no less than five minutes ago. "If you can hear me, moan or something."
There's no verbal response back, but Sam watches as the darker black blob a few inches away shifts upward in what Sam assumes to be Deeks pulling himself onto his knees. Sam laughs a loud in relief and starts to cheer, "That's great, man. You're doing great. Now if you could come over here and somehow get to my cuffs."
Silence.
"Deeks?" Sam wrinkles his nose when he notices that black blob hasn't moved one bit. He tries his hardest to push past the inkling in his gut that tells him that the pure silence that he's heard for the last two minutes can't happen if Deeks is moving. Deeks isn't the quietest person that Sam's ever met, proven by the many failed attempts at trying to sneak up on the Navy SEAL. And even in the three years of being of 'hybrid agent', a half cop- half fed as Deeks excitedly called himself, Deeks couldn't be moving that quietly in the dark, which meant one thing.
He hadn't moved at all and the last two minutes was only Sam's imagination, fueled by desperation and the useless thing right now called hope.
It's been five minutes, at least, in Sam's opinion and he still hasn't a clue how to get out of the chair, let alone the room. He's starting to feel the pain from the electricity and he's not sure how much longer he can stay conscious. In Sam's mind; if he falls asleep, he's scared that Deeks could be killed by Sidarov while being out. And if that happens, there's also no reassurance that Sidarov wouldn't kill him in his sleep.
"That seat's taken, temp."
Sam jolts in his chair at the sound of his own voice. He knows that he's drifting off to sleep, more specifically, memories of his interaction with Deeks. That day wasn't the best day for him, as it had been a few weeks after Dom's death. Nevertheless, it wasn't the best thing to say to the detective on his first official day as a liaison.
"No- not Deeks! I need Callen on this!"
That was way out of line for the SEAL. At the time, he hadn't been thinking or caring about his teammate's feelings on the matter- he had just wanted Callen, his partner, not the blonde detective who he barely worked with. Sam knows that there's no justification for saying it because not once had Deeks ever failed him on a case. Not even when Deeks made a could-be-fatal-if-real mistake on the stairs of the Kill House did the detective truly disappoint him- as soon as Sam had approached him about it, Deeks had responded by asking how to be better next time.
And still, there was a lack of trust between the two.
"Damn it…..damn it….DAMN IT!" Sam screams suddenly. He starts rocking in his chair, shaking his entire body against the restraints. Although it's only been about five minutes, he officially believes that they're officially screwed. All he has left is to pull against the restraints and hope that they'll break against his weight, pray that Deeks wakes up, and hope to hell that Sidarov doesn't come back anytime soon.
"Mmmnnm…"
Sam freezes and calls out cautiously, "Deeks?"
"Nnmmmmm…."
"Deeks! Hey , look this way!" Sam whispers loudly. He can hear the sound of Deeks' legs sliding a few inches forward and the labored breathing coming from the detective. Sam is so ecstatic, he's never been so excited to hear anything come from Deeks.
"Damn, you had me scared there for a minute. We need to-" Sam is cut by three events happening over the course of ten seconds- the room door flies open , the lights flicker on, damn near blinding Sam, and Sidarov's man appears in the doorway. Sam looks over to see Deeks, still bloody and bruised with his eyes open towards the ceiling in the same spot where he had been thrown.
Sam knows that he's in no condition to help, which does them no good.
Especially when Sidarov's man walks into the room with a gun, a knife, and a drill.