Chapter 8 – Kensi

I was woken suddenly – I wasn't exactly sure as to what, exactly, but as I glanced over at the clock to find that it was almost midnight, I heard soft strains of music. Classical music.

I could've sworn that Deeks was a rock music guy.

I also could've sworn that the music was coming from outside.

Sleepily, I got out of bed, wondering if I was still dreaming. But no, the cool night air was definitely real.

I sat down in the window seat and opened the curtains which were moving with the soft breeze. There, in the garden, next to the pool, stood one Marty Deeks in the soft moonlight, and tucked snugly beneath his chin was a violin, from which he coaxed some of the most beautiful music I'd ever heard.

He stood alone, on a grassy stage, with the moon as his spotlight, and played in magnificent solitude, slowly swaying in time with the music.

It was one of the strangest performances she'd ever seen – a messy, golden-haired man wearing a navy t-shirt and worn blue jeans coaxing some of the world's sweetest, saddest, most beautiful music I'd ever heard. In the middle of the night in the backyard, none-the-less. While on an undercover op, too!

Then again, Deeks was no ordinary man. But I already knew that.

Deeks was… strange, sweet, wonderful, utterly maddening at times, and not at all normal. However, I guess I wouldn't have him any other way.

Suddenly, the music stopped, and Deeks was checking his watch, and the spell was broken.

He ran a final hand over his violin before bending down and tucking it away in its case, tucking the bow next to it and packing up the sheet music.

I got up from the window seat and drew the curtains before getting back into bed, my head full of the images that I'd just seen. He'd almost seemed a different person in the garden, playing his heart out to an audience he didn't know he had.

Only a couple of minutes later, he came into the bedroom.

'Kensi? Are you awake?' he asked gently.

I didn't answer, figuring that the best answer was to feign sleep.

He didn't continue, only undressing and crawling tiredly under the covers.

'Good night, Kens,' he whispered, and soon he was fast asleep.

And then, so was I.

Again, I was woken suddenly – I checked the clock; it was only a few hours later. And then I heard what had woken me.

Deeks whimpered again from his side of the bed, and when I turned I could see him trembling in his sleep.

'Marty,' I whispered.

He whimpered again, before opening his mouth and screaming in terror.

'Marty!'

He was thrashing around in terror, and I didn't know how he couldn't have woken up by now, but the nightmare had him firmly in its grasp. I leaned over and took him by his shoulders, and shook him firmly.

'Deeks! Wake up.'

His eyes opened, revealing bloodshot blue eyes, and with a shock I realised he'd been crying.

'Kens?' he asked softly, in an almost child-like voice, reaching out and hesitantly touching my arm. He opened his mouth and drew in a shaky breath.

I took his hand in mine, and gently squeezed. 'You're okay. It wasn't real. It was just a dream. You're safe.'

He brought his free hand up to his face and wiped the tears away, sniffing slightly. 'But it was real.'

And with that, he was suddenly up, bare feet hitting the floor with a small thud.

'I need to get some air,' he said, facing away from me.

'I'll come,' I said immediately, getting out of the bed too.

'No, you don't have to, Kens.'

'I want to, Deeks,' I replied firmly, leaving no room for argument. 'And put on a shirt or something. It's cold out tonight.'

He sighed, but pulled on a hoodie before leaving the bedroom. I quickly pulled on the nearest pair of track-pants that I could find, and snatched up one of his t-shirts and pulled it over my head for warmth.

He was already out of the house by this time, and halfway down the garden path, and I ran after him, making sure to pull the front door closed behind me.

'Hey,' I said, catching up with him.

'Beach?' he asked, almost hesitantly.

'This way,' I replied, putting my hand in his and leading him away from the house.

We walked in silence, and then we were on the beach, cool sand beneath our feet, the waves crashing loudly against the shore.

Suddenly, as if he'd found the perfect spot, he sat down, pulling me with him by our joined hands. He seemed to want quiet, so I said nothing, but allowed him to collect his thoughts. I rested my head against his shoulder, and waited for him to start talking.

His hair was mildly damp with sweat, and his hand was slightly clammy and still shaking from the scare that he'd had earlier. His breathing was quick and erratic, and I hoped that he wouldn't start hyperventilating, because in my hurry to get out of the house, I'd forgotten phone, weapon and identification, and I wouldn't have a single way of getting him help.

And then he started to talk.

His voice was husky and low, and the words were almost choked as they came out, as if he was still hesitant in wanting to share with me. But he told me anyway.

Of a boy in a seemingly normal suburban neighbourhood, with a pretty, weak, spineless mother, a wild, vivid, almost glowing little sister and a mean, nasty, almost always drunk father who used to have a capacity for love and happiness, but filled it up with liquor that left him cruel. A boy who played football with his friends, princesses and dragons with his sister, picked posies for his mother, learned the violin, did well at school… was beaten by the man who was supposed to be his loving, caring father.

A boy that one day picked up the .38 that his best friend had given to him to try and save him, and used it to fell the man who was threatening his mother and little sister with a sawn-off shotgun.

'The dreams only happen once in a blue moon,' Deeks finished hoarsely, squeezing my hand. 'I guess that you were just unlucky enough to be there when one struck.'

I opened my mouth to reply, but found that I couldn't speak around the giant lump that had formed in my throat. And then I realised I was crying. No. Not crying. Weeping. Tears had escaped my eyes and seeped down my cheeks, dripping off of my nose into my lap.

Deeks let go of my hand and wrapped his arms around me instead, and I cried for that boy who had suffered so much and yet had managed to become a man so wonderful.

And he cried too.

Finally, he came to his senses, and kissed the top of my head before wiping away the tears on my face with the pads of his thumbs.

'I don't like it when you cry,' he said softly, cupping my face in his hands and examining my tear-swollen eyes by the soft, hopefully kind moonlight. 'It means something's very wrong, and here… this isn't anything to cry about, Kens.'

He sighed heavily and let me go, staring broodily out to sea.

'I'm just…' I realised I still had that lump in my throat, and cleared it before continuing. 'I'm just sorry that a person like you had to go through a childhood like that.'

'Says the woman who ran away from her mother, only to have her father die.'

I recognised the irony that he was pointing out, and sighed.

'Come on,' he said getting to his feet and offering me a hand. 'We better get back. Hetty would get offended if we fell asleep while she's trying to brief us.'

'Yup,' I replied, letting him pull me up.

We wandered back to the house, where Deeks tried the front door, only to pause.

'Uh oh,' he said slowly. 'Do you have a key?'

I shook my head. 'No.'

'Neither do I.'

We exchanged a long glance before looking at the door, most likely with matching disgruntled expressions.

'So what do we do?' I finally asked.

'I didn't leave the back door open,' he said softly, almost to himself. 'So we can't get in that way.'

'Did we leave any windows open?'

He pursed his lips and tapped his chin thoughtfully. 'Give me a minute.' He plodded, barefoot, off into the bushes. A couple of minutes later, he reappeared on my other side. 'I think the bedroom window is open.'

'It's closed, but not locked,' I replied.

'Can we actually get up there?' he asked.

'You could try and give me a boost,' I said, shrugging.

He thought about it for a moment. 'No, I don't think that would work. And Hetty would kill us if one of us broke a limb because we were trying to climb in through a second story window.'

'And she probably chose this house on the grounds that it was especially hard to sneak into,' I said.

'True,' he said, pointing at me. 'Have you got anything to pick the lock with?'

'If we could find some wire, I could maybe pick it.'

'There's a garden shed near the pool,' Deeks informed me, pointing.

'Okay.' I set off down the garden path, past the pool and to the shed, which Deeks opened with a flourish.

'Charming,' he said, wrinkling his nose at the stale, musty smell of the small room.

'Light?' I asked, searching for a switch without stepping into the actual shed itself. I wasn't wearing any shoes, and I didn't really want to take my chances with tetanus.

'Found it,' Deeks grunted, and reached around me to flip the plastic switch.

Slowly, the bare bulb in the middle of the room began to glow.

'Lovely place,' I said, squinting into the dull corners.

'Wire!' he exclaimed triumphantly, pointing to a table. 'Or would you prefer a screwdriver?'

'Both, I think,' I said, watching as he picked his way through the muck on the floor and triumphantly brandished the tools at me before gingerly tiptoeing back.

'Right. Definitely going to be cleaning that thing out tomorrow,' he said, handing me the wire, screwdriver and a pair of pliers.

'Wear shoes. And maybe we should get you a tetanus injection, just in case,' I said, making my way back to the front door.

'No thank you,' he said exuberantly. 'No needles for me, thank you very much.'

I fiddled about with the lock for a few moments before it finally clicked.

'That's my girl,' Deeks breathed, opening the door.

I blinked. 'Excuse me?'

'Uh… not my girl, as in, uh, my girl, but uh, like, my partner, yeah?' he stuttered nervously.

I sighed and shook my head at him before going into the house and watching as he closed the door behind us.

'I'm hiding a key underneath a pot plant,' he said, shaking his head.

'We don't have any pot plants,' I replied.

'Then I'm buying a pot plant, and then putting a key underneath it.'

'You can do you what you like, but I'm going to bed. It's four in the morning.'

'Good idea, sugar-bear.'

'Don't call me that, Deeks,' I protested as I dropped into bed.

He pulled the hoodie off and dropped down next to me. 'Night, Fern.'

I shook my head. 'Night, Deeks.'

'Well. Isn't this cute?'

Deeks' voice spoke in my ear. 'Kens, please tell me that it's you that said that.'

'No such luck,' I sighed, and rolled over.

'I must be dreaming, then.'

'Not dreaming,' Sam said loudly. 'We're very much here.'

I felt Deeks sit up and look at them. 'What are you lot doing here?' he asked.

'It's ten in the morning. You missed your 9:30 check in. Did you just decide to have a lie-in?'

'We got back here at four am, okay?' Deeks defended us. I could tell that he had his arms folded across his chest.

'Why were you out?' Callen asked.

I sat up as well. 'Because this one decided that he wanted to go for a walk.'

'For God's sake, why?' Sam asked.

'Walking in the middle of the night is very peaceful. Good for the soul. But this one-' nodding at me '-insisted on coming to make sure I didn't do something stupid.' Deeks shook his head. 'I was completely fine.'

After a while, I thought. Aloud, I said, 'You know this one. He goes out for a run and gets himself shot. He'd probably get mugged if he went out for a walk.'

Callen frowned at me. 'Are you wearing one of Deeks' shirts?'

'So what if I am? He's supposedly my husband, isn't he?' I asked, folding my arms in a classic defensive gesture.

'We're very method,' Deeks added.

'Well, you're method,' I said to him. 'I was just cold.'

'You're cold? You could've said so,' he replied, reaching for me.

I picked up a pillow and thumped him with it. 'Don't. Push. Your. Luck,' I said, punctuating each word with a hit to the head.

'Thanks,' he said blandly, looking at me. I'd inadvertently mussed up his hair, so that one side of his head was pretty much the same as usual, while the other half was sticking up all over the place.

I shook my head at him before getting out of bed and sighing. 'I need coffee before I deal with you lot.'

'I'm going back to sleep,' Deeks grunted, flopping back down on the bed.

'No, you're not,' I said, before dragging the bedcovers out of the room behind me.

'Hey!' his surprised yelp followed me out of the room.

I laughed and left the blankets trailing behind me on the stairs.

I started the coffee and yawned widely. Callen chuckled, leaning against the doorframe.

'You are not a morning person,' he said.

I shook my head. 'You should know that by now. It shouldn't surprise you.'

'No, it doesn't,' he said, taking the coffee that I offered him. 'What does surprise me is your lying skills first thing in the morning.'

I turned to him, almost giving myself whiplash and spilling my coffee. 'Shit!' I exclaimed, shaking my hand before sticking it under the tap. 'What do you mean by that?' I asked.

He held out his phone, revealing a video on a loop. A barefoot Deeks was almost running down the garden path, running a frustrated hand through his dishevelled hair, which I knew to be matted with sweat at that moment. I came running after him a few seconds later, stupidly locking the door after myself.

'That doesn't look like going for a relaxing stroll, if you don't mind me saying, Kens,' Callen said gently.

I felt an unfortunately familiar lump grow in my throat at the thought of what had really happened, and fought back tears.

'Kens,' he said softly.

I swallowed roughly. 'It's none of your business, Callen.'

'It just looks…' he started.

'He had a bad dream, okay?' I hissed. 'He had to get some air, and I went after him to make sure that nothing bad happened to him. I thought he might pass out.'

'Uh huh. And this?' He changed the video to the one of us first checking the door to find it locked, and then of me picking the lock.

'We got locked out,' I said sheepishly.

He laughed and shook his head. 'I was just making sure. Because the first video, of you two running out… It looked like you had a fight and then Deeks walked out.'

I shook my head. 'No. No fights, funnily enough.'

We heard Sam and Deeks making their way downstairs, Deeks grumbling at having to pick up the bedclothes from the staircase.

'Not cool, Kens,' he said, shaking his head at me, his arms full of blankets.

'Well, they need washing anyway,' I pointed out. 'They've probably got sand all through them.'

He sighed and disappeared to dump them in the laundry before reappearing and making for the coffee, picking up a mug and swallowing a large amount with a satisfied sigh.

'So, you were just worried because we'd missed our check in?' I asked, narrowing my eyes at Callen when I was sure Deeks wasn't looking.

'Yeah. I mean, it could've meant that your cover had been blown,' Callen replied, taking the hint.

'There's this thing, it's called a phone. They're real simple to use,' Deeks quipped, punctuating the sentence with a slurp of coffee.

'Yeah, well, if you're being held hostage, you could answer the phone and we wouldn't know whether you were in trouble or not.'

'There's a distress word,' Kensi pointed out.

'Well, actually, there's two, cos you refused to use mine,' Deeks said.

'Oh, because it's really so easy for me to put "Fern" into a sentence.'

'Is "hippopotamus" any easier?' he shot back.

'Yeah. You just insult whoever's got you. Call 'em as fat as a hippopotamus,' Sam said simply.

'I'm worried. Have you been in that situation a lot of times before?' Deeks asked.

I yawned widely.

'That's what you get when you go to bed at very late o'clock,' Sam said, shaking his head at me.

I shook my head at the men, who were very subtly checking me out in their own ways. I s'pose I kind of asked for it, considering that I was wearing only very tiny shorts underneath Deeks' t-shirt. 'I'm going to change.' I narrowed my eyes at Deeks. 'I expect breakfast when I get back.'

'Of course you do,' Deeks replied, laughter in his voice. 'Or maybe you want brunch?'

'I want food,' I said, throwing the call back over my shoulder as I left the room.

'We better get back,' Sam called after me. 'Bye, Kens!'

'Bye Sam. Bye Callen.' And I heard the front door click shut.

With the amount of coffee that Deeks drinks, does anyone else think that his sleep is often interrupted? Or, at least, that's my take on it. And I had to put some good Deeks angst in. I think that after starting to play the violin again, it would bring up some memories of home.

Let me know what you think. Your thoughts are very appreciated, and if you have any scenes or situations that you think should be included in this story, please let me know by reviewing or PM-ing me.

And now, on to the next chapter!

XD PurpleHipposRock