I dedicate this chapter to Mike and Justin

"There's one more thing. I can't make out the details yet, but there's been a motor vehicle collision a block to the north."

The blond took a moment to pray. But he got an answer anyway.

"The motorcycle Kensi stole is in the middle of it."

Kensi pulled out into the street, cutting off a large truck and being penalized for it by a massive honk. She revved the engine, swerving in between cars to further distance herself from the chaos behind. Then came the certain realization that there was nowhere to go back to. Ops was out of the question, she couldn't endanger her friends—her family. Forget her house. Forget Deeks's. She had to get out of Los Angeles as soon as possible.

Kensi could drive out of the state on the motorcycle, but it'd be too easy to track. She ran through ideas—all the urban training and courses she took. The more she thought, the more instinct took over. Her days of living on the street came rushing back, and suddenly she knew exactly where to go. She made a hard left and cut across a few lanes of traffic. The agent checked her mirrors for a tail, but didn't find anybody driving more recklessly than she.

She couldn't let that fool her. With no immediate weapons she couldn't fight. And she was praying like hell that Deeks wouldn't come to be backup. Kensi continued driving for a long time, taking random turns and mapping out her plan. Well, what faintly resembled a plan.

After she was almost one hundred percent certain she had gained enough distance, Kensi pulled the vehicle into the closest ally way and stopped behind a dumpster so that she was hidden from the street. She turned off the motorcycle and let her head fall against the brick wall next to her. The adrenaline had stopped flowing through her blood, leaving her nearly breathless and in more pain than before. Kensi tried rotating her arm, but couldn't move it all the way around before retracting it with a gasp. Something was really wrong; there was no time to worry about it.

She waited until she had caught her breath, but Kensi revved the engine back to life to push forward. She drove it out to the end of the alley, looking for an opening in the traffic. Seeing a space between a taxi and a black SUV several yards back, she began to pull out when a gunshot sent her barreling to the right and off the bike. She scrambled out of the street, watching as the motorcycle went flying from a car in the second lane hitting it. It landed on the other side of traffic. One car swerved in front of the other cars, and before even ten seconds were over there were half a dozen vehicles caught in the accident.

Kensi checked herself. She hadn't been hit—it was pure instinct that drove her body out of the line of fire. Pedestrians who had heard the shot were running all around her. Those in the accident were slamming their horns, poking their heads out of car windows in search of the cause. Kensi caught sight of the black SUV she had spotted earlier, which had been hit by another car. It didn't seem to faze whoever was inside, because three armed men climbed out of it.

She dashed back into the ally, drawing the men away from any innocent civilians. Kensi wasn't far from her destination. If she could make it there alive, she could lose them easily. Key phrase: making it there alive.

The ping of gunfire off the dumpster echoed in her ears. She dodged down an annexing route, this time narrower than the one before. There would be no place to hide if they caught up with her. Kensi sprinted down the alley, and at last found some good luck in the form of a service ladder that lead to the roof of a one story building. She hoisted herself up the metal as fast as she could.

Kensi reached the top and immediately pressed herself to the damp rooftop from the rain the night before. The thunder boomed above, measuring to the hammering of her heart. She crawled towards the far side of the roof, using only her left arm to haul herself forward. Once she was sure that the VOAM members couldn't see her from the ally, Kensi pulled herself up and jumped to the neighboring rooftop.

The next building was two stories—she was going to have to climb down. Kensi, seeing no latter, used a plastic pipe to slide down the side of the building. This was like a freaking game of Pac-man. Her enemies weren't directly on top of her, but somewhere definitely close. Kensi jogged back into the bigger ally and sprinted for the train yard she knew was just out of reach.

She reached the end of the drive just in time for the bullets to start flying again. Kensi ducked, but continued her run. There was a fence separating from her and the street that had the train yard, and a dumpster to help her get over it.

Looking back only briefly to see a single shooter, Kensi leapt on top of the closed dumpster, and launched herself over the fence. She fell into a roll, the pain in her shoulder leaving her paralyzed on the pavement. Another round of fire forced her to head for the road, where she dodged across four lanes of traffic. She kicked a hole through the wooden fence, and ducked through, just to see the three shooters following her path.

Kensi looked around the storage containers and broken down engines. It had changed a lot since the countless nights she used to squat here while homeless. She took off towards the left and ducked behind an engine. They were too close to lose, she would take them down one at a time.

She watched as the three men entered the train yard, only to promptly split up again. They weren't like the guys who had attacked her at the school. No, they were from an Arab descent, these men were Caucasian. One of them came her way. She braced herself.

As soon as the man was in sight, Kensi tackled him from the side. She left hooked him several times until she felt him go limp underneath her. By no means was he dead, but certainly beyond helping his buddies kill her. She took his gun and searched the unconscious man for extra ammo. Kensi counted her findings, totaling only four bullets. This must have been the guy shooting at her in the alley. Just her luck.

With a groan, she moved along. Kensi crept among the dirt as the rain came pouring down, peering around corners and listening intently for any signs of her assailants. She moved about the place, deciding to head in the direction of the actual station. If she needed to make a quick escape from combat, she would have somewhere to go.

Kensi began to move further and further into the train yard. She couldn't find evidence of anybody. Not a sound, not a sight.

Where were they?

She rounded a corner and literally ran into her answer. There was a flurry of limbs and a scramble for guns. Kensi was pinned down by the other man, and couldn't force the barrel of the gun to him. She backhanded him across the face, shifting his weight barely enough to lodge her gun into him. There was no hesitation when pulling the trigger. One shot. She had to save what bullets she had left. The body next to her disappeared for a moment, but Kensi didn't have time to relax. The guy landed a rather weak kick to her side, forcing her to fire the gun twice more. At last, the miscreant fell dead in front of her.

Kensi tossed the gun aside and went to recover the weapon from the dead man's body. She didn't bother checking the ammo; his backup would have heard the shots. The brunette ran off to the side, finding a shipping container to duck behind just as a bullet ricocheted somewhere near her head. Sliding to the ground, she leaned out from the side and fired thrice, not a single one hitting their mark.

Return fire forced her behind the container again, and inspired her to check her ammo count. Three more shots left. Taking a deep breath, Kensi shot up, found her target, and sent her last bullets into the body. She sighed with relief, letting her body lose the tension.

The universe refused to let Kensi Blye have a break that day.

Something—or rather someone—grabbed her from behind and held her in a firm chokehold. Kensi elbowed her attacker in the stomach, but his grip did not loosen. All her efforts to break the hold only made the black spots dance in front of her eyes faster. She was slipping away, and quickly. Her attacker wouldn't settle for a knock-out, he was strangling her to death.

There was a loud noise, and suddenly the arm slid from under her neck, the wall behind her dropped. Kensi collapsed to the ground, gasping for breath. Once her vision cleared, she saw a familiar blond partner bent down next to her.

"You okay?"

Kensi nodded, saving her words for when she stopped coughing. "Better now." She looked down to the dead man, his face bloody and bruised. It was the guy she had knocked out earlier.

Deeks pulled her into a gentle hug, rubbing circles on her back. They remained silent for a moment, until they heard more men approaching. Both she and Deeks tensed up, he raised his gun, only to be confronted by Sam and Callen. Everybody holstered their weapons, reveling in the fact that they were all still alive.

"What are you guys doing here?" Kensi breathily asked.

"Nell told us everything," Callen explained briefly. "Which means you have to get out of here."

"She's burned too. Everybody on the task force-" Kensi fell into another coughing fit, and continued when managed to stop, "they'll be killed soon."

"Nell doesn't think so. Nobody's come after her or the others yet. Look, our main concern right now is you. We don't have time to discuss anything else." Sam interjected. He handed her a comically thick, tan envelope. "One way train ticket. Hetty wouldn't tell us where."

The brunette paused, staring at it for a long moment. "I can't thank you guys enough for coming to protect me. I'll try to keep in touch." She turned to go, but was stopped by the voice she had found so endearing.

"Aren't you forgetting something?" Kensi turned to see Deeks standing there, crossing his arms. "You're crazy if you think I'm not coming with you."

"I can't ask you to do that."

"I'm not waiting for you to."

Kensi caught herself staring fiercely into the equally-as-fierce eyes of her partner. She didn't even recognize Sam and Callen's presence. Right then and there, it was just Kensi and Deeks, Deeks and Kensi. Their moment was interrupted by Sam and Callen both throwing down duffle bags that Kensi hadn't even noticed they were carrying.

"Take care of her Deeks," Callen took his hand in a firm handshake.

"Always," he replied. "You guys too, seeing as we won't be around to back you up for a while."

Kensi felt tears welling up in her eyes, but she wasn't sure why. Perhaps it was the overwhelming information to process. Hetty had known about their op. She could only assume that Nell had gotten their go-bags from work. Much more, between the two of them, they had an entire escape planned out for her and Deeks that meant not seeing their family for who knew how long.

Sam hugged both of the younger team members. "You better get going. We'll make it safe for you two to come home soon. We promise."

Deeks hoisted both of the go-bags onto his shoulder, touched Kensi lightly on the back, and forced them to make a run for the station. Kensi tore open the envelope, eyed their destination on the tickets, and stuffed everything back into it.

They finally reached a platform that was void of a train, but not empty of passengers eyeing them strangely. Deeks climbed up first, and then helped Kensi. The two jogged to the edge of the platform where it had the list of departures for the next hour: theirs was in two minutes.

"Where are we going?"

"Platform Ten," Kensi answered, pulling Deeks along this time. The partners dodged their way through people to make way to their destination. Following the signs, they sprinted for the stairs that would take them to the platform. At last Kensi and Deeks found themselves outside, the train shutting its doors for departure. They raced along the side, finally reaching a door still open.

Kensi and Deeks launched themselves on the train car, leaning into each other as they caught their breath. The doors sealed behind them, cutting them off from the rest of the world.

Kensi felt Deeks's breathing steady against her and he promptly asked, "So, where to next?"

"New York City. We're heading back east."

Author's Note:

It's been a rough month for me and my high school. Two students died within a month of each other (unrelated causes), both only sixteen years old. Live today, because tomorrow is never guaranteed.

In Loving Memory

Mike D.

(1998-2015)

Justin J.

(1998-2015)

Rest easy guys, we miss you.

"Those we love don't go away, they walk beside us everyday. Unseen, unheard, but always near. Still loved, still missed."