AN: Please read the whole thing before killing me. :) And remember the kind of stories I write.

"Are we ready? Lift on three. One, two, three."

The soft, pained groan her partner let out stole Kensi's breath away. Medical jargon was passing all around her, but all she could see—all she could hear—was her partner. He was still fighting, still trying to get away, as if he didn't know he was safe. It broke Kensi's heart.

"Deeks," she said, slipping past the doctors to grasp Deeks's hand. "You've got to listen to the doctor." He moved his head away from her voice, and Kensi felt herself die a little inside. "Deeks!" She trailed off again when he still wouldn't look at her.

Can you blame him? an angry voice demanded in her ear. You left him there.

"Deeks…" her voice broke on a whisper, but he still didn't turn toward her.

"C'mon, Agent Blye. We've got work to do."

Kensi cringed at her boss's voice, but she knew she couldn't fight him. She had to close her eyes in order to make herself turn and step away from her partner. The moment she had to release his hand, she opened her eyes. She glanced back and saw that his head was moving from side to side, his eyes were alight with panic, and blood was still dripping out of his mouth.

He looked so alone, and she longed to stay with him. Granger's hand gripped her shoulder and pulled her the rest of the way out of the ER bay. Once her partner was no longer in her line of sight, autopilot took over. Rage focused her vision, and all she could think about was taking out the man who'd caused the damage to her Deeks.

Two hours later, she was sitting in the back seat of her own car when her phone rang.

"What?" Kensi answered her phone, her tone curt and hard.

"Oh, um, is this… Kensi Blye?" an unfamiliar voice asked.

"This is Agent Blye," Kensi affirmed, her tone not wavering. "Who are you?"

"Oh, Agent Blye," the voice—soft and feminine—came across the line once more. "My name is Debbie Anderson, I'm a nurse at Pacific Beach Medical. It says here that you are the next of kin to one Martin Andrew Deeks. Is this true?"

Kensi's heart felt like it was going to beat out of her chest.

"Yes, that's me," she said quickly, her tone softening slightly. "How is Deeks?"

"There was a complication during his surgery," Nurse Debbie explained. Kensi's heart stilled, but her mind refused to comprehend the nurse's words. "His wounds were left untreated for too long, and he lost too much blood. I'm sorry, but—"

"What kind of complication? How long will his recovery take now?" Kensi demanded, not letting the nurse finish her thought. She finally caught Callen's concerned gaze, and she was vaguely aware of Granger eyeing her in the rearview mirror, but she ignored it all.

"I'm sorry," the nurse said again, and Kensi suddenly felt as if her entire body was on fire. "He simply lost too much blood, and we were unable to revive Mr. Deeks." The nurse paused again. "I'm sorry to inform you that Mr. Deeks died on the operating table. I'm so sorry."

"I—I don't… I mean, um, are you—no. No, no, NO!" Kensi stuttered. "No. You're… no. He—he promised, and he, he, he, he—" She was breathing so fast at that point that she nearly hyperventilated. She felt her vision going fuzzy, and suddenly the phone was slipped from her hand.

She was vaguely aware of Callen demanding answers from the nurse, but Kensi was already fumbling with the car door. She needed air. She needed to breath.

Who was she kidding. She didn't need any of that! What she really needed was Deeks. She needed him more than air, more than breath. She just needed him.

"Kensi," Callen said, kneeling beside her. When had she fallen to her knees? "Kens, I'm so sorry."

"No," she said, shaking her head. "No. He's not gone."

She used the word gone instead of dead, because she couldn't even fathom that word.

"Kens…" Callen said again, his tone full of pity. Kensi hated his tone.

"No!" she snapped, surging to her feet. "I would have felt it. He's not—not… He's not!"

"Kensi," Callen said again, gripping her shoulder firmly. Kensi tried desperately to shrug him off, but he held fast. "Kensi, you talked to the nurse, and I just talked to the nurse, too. She called your real number. She explained his injuries. I don't want to believe it, either, but he's dead, Kensi."

Kensi sucked in a breath. With those words, all the pain left her body. She felt numb and weightless—as if Marty Deeks had been the only thing tethering her to this life, and now that he was gone, there was nothing to hold her here either.

Suddenly, a temporary tether appeared in her mind, and her vision turned red. Anger. Pure, blinding, unadulterated rage. It focused her vision.

Siderov did this, she told herself. He wouldn't be breathing air much longer.

This time, Kensi succeeded in pushing Callen away.

"Don't… touch me," she seethed. Then, her entire body stiff with tension, she climbed back into the car.

"I'm fine," she answered Granger's unspoken question. "I'm fine. Where are we at?"

Granger gave her a look that clearly said he didn't believe her, but when he looked at Callen, he thought better of asking anything.

"Michelle went dark," Granger said instead, his gruff voice keeping Kensi in the present. "We need to move in."

Kensi nodded, sloping out of the car and assembling the necessary gear with practiced ease. She followed Callen up the stairs of the hotel to Michelle and Siderov's room, and the whole way, the nurse's words were replaying in her mind.

"His wounds were left untreated for too long. He lost too much blood." Kensi kept her eyes firmly open, but all she could see was the haunted look on his face as she left him tied to that chair. Her heart burned as she tortured herself.

If you hadn't left him in that chair… If you'd gotten him out of there… If you hadn't left him to bleed out alone, he would still be alive.

If, if, if… There were so many ifs, but they all came to one outcome. If she'd just done things differently, the most important person in her life would still be alive. But he wasn't, and with every step she took, she realized that if he wasn't, she didn't want to be.

"She's not here," Callen said once they'd cleared the room. "Siderov's in the wind."

"He'd have to have an extraction plan," Granger chimed in.

"The roof," Kensi said, her voice a strange, emotionless monotone that she didn't recognize. "We didn't see him on our way up, so it stands to reason that he would go up, not down."

"Go!" Granger commanded. Kensi didn't need to be told twice. Her anger and rage turned into adrenaline, and in no time she was reaching the door. Up ahead of her, there was a large black man struggling to pry the door open.

"Sam?" Kensi called, her voice still sounding foreign to her. Sam turned around quickly, but he immediately went back to the door once he'd assured himself it was just Kensi. Suddenly, she felt her deep-seated rage change targets. Sam was alive, and Deeks was dead.

Ignoring his struggling, Kensi roughly shoved Sam aside, causing him to stumble and fall.

"Kensi!" Sam whispered, but Kensi ignored him.

"He's dead, Sam," Kensi whispered as she shoved the door open. Any other time the door would've been too heavy for her, but her admission gave her the necessary strength for the task. Sam looked confused, but he didn't have time to question her.

The open door revealed Siderov on the roof, attempting to force Michelle into a helicopter. When he noticed Kensi and Sam pointing guns at him and his goon, he pulled Michelle between them.

"Let her go, Siderov," Sam said. Kensi moved so that she was between Siderov and the helicopter. Sam stood between him and the door. There was no place for Siderov or his goon to escape. Unfortunately, there also wasn't a clean shot.

"There's only one way this ends, Siderov," Kensi said, her voice a now familiar, emotionless monotone. "You. In a body bag."

Like Deeks, her mind reminded her. Kensi felt a tear slip down her cheek, despite her greatest efforts. Unfortunately for her, Siderov noticed.

"Ah," he said, his eyes flashing with a dark twinkle of delight. "You knew the other one? The weak one? I'm guessing he died?" Kensi held herself still, which was easier than it should have been, as she suddenly couldn't breathe. Her eyes narrowed at Siderov, and he had the audacity to laugh. "As it should be."

Kensi's vision exploded in rage, but before she could react irrationally, the roof door burst open. Siderov's goon—the one who'd been pointing the gun at Kensi—dropped to the ground. Siderov shifted slightly, and Kensi had an opening. She didn't even think it over—to be honest, she couldn't've cared less if she hit Michelle—she just took the shot. Her bullet hit Siderov right between the eyes, but it didn't make Kensi feel any better.

"Sam!" Michelle called, running into her husband's arms. Kensi turned away from them, unable to watch them embrace. She turned to talk to Callen, but instead she saw Deeks.

She blinked, and blinked again. And again. And yet again. But he was still there. He was still standing there, and he was alive. She blinked again. And he was gone.

She heard a gasp, and she looked down. He wasn't gone, he was just kneeling. He was kneeling. He was there. He was alive.

"Oh my god," she whispered, taking a shaky step toward him. "Deeks?"

He looked up at her, and she reached her arm out to him, desperate to touch him and prove to herself that he was real—that he was alive.

But what if he's not alive, a voice taunted her. What if reaching out to touch him makes him disappear?

"You're… you're…" she trailed off and collected herself. "You good?"

He let out a breath and ran his fingers through his hair, but it was too shaky for it to be her imagination. She had no memory of him ever being anything but steady.

"I'm good," he said, but his voice betrayed his lie. "You good?"

She reached out and her fingers ghosted along his hand. He flinched back, but he didn't disappear. And for now, that was enough for Kensi. Her lips pulled into a tight smile, and she nodded.

"I'm good."

He's not, her mind protested, but she quickly shut it up. Neither am I. But he's alive.

Sam and Michelle had made their way off the roof, so Kensi and Deeks stood alone on the roof with two dead bodies. This fact suddenly became apparent to Deeks, and he backed away.

"I—I have to… to, uh, to go," he said, turning away from her and quickly making his way to the door.

"I thought you were dead!" she called out as his retreating form reached the roof door. He froze, but he still didn't turn around. She walked forward so that she was directly behind him.

She pushed away the ache in her heart, but a soft sob still slipped out. His shoulders dropped at that sound.

"I thought so, too," he said without turning around, his words halting and broken. "But you got me out." Again he paused. "Eventually."

She winced. "No."

It was all she could do to get that one word out, but it was worth it, because it caused him to turn around. His guard was momentarily dropped, and she saw the confusion in his eyes.

"No," she choked out again. "No, not… not, in the… the… not then."

He just nodded, not making a move toward her, but Kensi took comfort in the fact that he also hadn't made a move away from her.

"They… they called me," she finally admitted, unable to meet his eyes. "While we were staking out the hotel. The hospital. They… they t-told m-me you were d-d-d—"

She stopped there, because she couldn't even force the word past her lips. The word dead didn't belong in any sentence that even mentioned Deeks.

"There must have been a mix-up with the records, and…" she trailed off as she saw understanding in his eyes.

"But I'm not," he said softly. His words were meant to reassure her—Kensi knew that—but they were too shaky to do anything other than break her heart just a little more.

"But you were."

"But I'm not," he repeated, a little stronger than before. His hand hesitantly came up and reached for her hand. "I'm still here. Barely. But I'm here."

She squeezed his hand, trying to push away the twinge in her heart when he winced and withdrew his hand from hers. She gave him her best smile.

"C'mon, partner," she said softly. "Let's go."

He just nodded, still no smile on his usually joyful face. They walked down the stairs, side by side, though neither said a word. It wasn't perfect—it wasn't even good—but he was alive. He was alive, and if she'd learned anything while she thought he was dead it was that she couldn't live in a world where Marty Deeks didn't exist.

So he wasn't okay—neither was she. But she would do everything in her power to make sure they could be okay again.