Marty Brandel

March 1988

"So what's gonna happen now?"

Marty shut his eyes against the sun, wishing he had an answer for Ray. When he opened them, Officer Clayton was waiting at the edge of the playground for him with a sack full of the eleven-year-old's belongings hoisted over his shoulder. Needless to say Will hadn't let Marty back inside the house after the incident.

"My mom was moved to New York to work with a doctor for her PTSD and anxiety. So I'm going into foster care."

Ray frowned deeply. "I haven't heard good things about foster care, man."

"Officer Clayton said I would be alright," Marty protested.

"I don't trust cops."

"Well I believe him."

Without any indication from Officer Clayton, Marty knew it was time to go. He embraced Ray tightly.

"Don't disappear, okay?" Ray asked.

"I promise."

"Good luck Marty."

"You too Ray."

With that, Marty turned away from his best friend and headed towards Officer Clayton, who offered him an encouraging smile. The blond felt a tugging in his gut that drew him back towards Ray…back to what he knew most. Because despite his statement to Ray, Marty still had some doubts about what was yet to come.

"Ready to go, kid?" Will asked as he steered Marty towards his police car.

He shrugged in response, silently slipping into the front seat.

"I promise. I'm taking you to a good place."

Officer Clayton said that about the first foster home. And the second. And the third. It happened the same way every single time. He would visit before and after his shift for the first three days, making sure everything was alright. Then the visits would become less frequent as he thought Marty was beginning to adjust to the new home.

But foster homes didn't sit with him like a case of food poisoning.

The first one he shared a room with four other kids with a sleeping bag to call his own. Nightmares began to terrorize him at night because of the eerily familiar situation with his old life. Officer Clayton pulled some strings and got him moved.

The second one didn't last more than two days. Marty ran all the way to the LAPD precinct where Will worked at after the mister came at him with a hammer.

The third one Marty really liked. It was a sweet and gentle old woman who smelled like cats and made the best pies. She had a heart attack two and a half weeks after he moved in.

"I want to move back in with my Mom. I want to go and see her," Marty stated firmly after Officer Clayton moved him from a temporary foster home while Ms. Kartz was in the hospital. They were in the car heading downtown to Will's precinct.

"You can't right now. I'm sorry Marty, I don't know what else to tell you," Will sighed. He looked over at the young boy who was focused on twiddling his thumbs.

He mumbled something incoherently as a response.

"What was that?"

"I said I just want a real home for once!" Marty cried quite abruptly. "I haven't known that in-" his voice broke. "-in so, so long."

Will pulled Marty into his shoulder as the blond sobbed quietly. His thoughts ran a million miles per hour, trying to think of comforting words suitable for this situation. And then suddenly- an idea sprang from a conversation he had earlier in the day.

"I'll be right back," Will said as he stepped out of the cop car.

Marty counted the ticking minutes by the dashboard clock. He was beginning to think that Will had given up on him when he returned to the car, a strange look on his face. The eleven-year-old wanted to ask questions, but he knew the routine by now. Officer Clayton was taking him somewhere else to spend the next few days or weeks.

They drove out of the city and into the suburbs as the sun was beginning to set. Marty wistfully looked out the window to see children running barefoot with their dogs up and down the sidewalk. He was so lost in his thoughts that he didn't realize Will had stopped the car.

"Here we are," Will said.

Marty followed the police officer's gaze towards a split level home painted bright yellow surrounded by a picket fence.

Usually this was followed by a quick background of the family or how many other kids lived there; Will just got out of the car, grabbed Marty's duffle bag, and proceeded to the front steps. Now more curious than anything, he followed Officer Clayton to the door.

Then he did something even more curious.

He pulled a key out of his pocket and opened the door.

"Rachel!"

Upon hearing Will's voice, an athletic looking woman appeared from around the corner, still polishing silverware. Her short red hair stuck up everywhere as if she had just rolled out of bed with it.

"Welcome home," she grinned, putting the towel and knife on a table so she could give Will a firm kiss.

Officer Clayton was wearing an equally large smile. "Marty, this is my wife Rachel. Welcome home- to our home."

Marty's mouth dropped. Then as the situation sank in, his lips twisted into a wicked smile he hadn't worn in years. No more foster homes. No more pain. He was free to run up and down the block- hang out with Ray- was free to be a kid again.

He hugged Will so tightly it would have taken the end of the world to shake him.

Hey all! So, I'm sorry this is late. More computer problems followed by tryouts and getting summer work done...gah. I need to get my life in order. Anyways, hope you enjoyed, because this is the last we'll see of Deeks for a while. I've decided to switch characters in between childhood, teen, young adult, ect to keep you guys interested. Next character requests?

-C