A/N: Angst warning. Contains minor spoilers for Human Traffic and the Sam/Callen volcano scene.

Chapter 10

Deeks had been gone for about three minutes when Callen first heard someone approaching from the opposite direction the detective had gone. He rested a hand on his gun, relaxing only when Danny Williams stepped into the clearing.

"Hey, Danny."

"Hi Callen."

"Need something?"

"What, no "how are things over there, Danny" or "what did you have for dinner"?"

Callen smirked. The other man was growing on him, sort of like a certain other detective. "Okay, why are you here?"

"Kono wanted some privacy—I didn't ask—and I felt like some male company. I'm used to spending all day locked in a can with Steve, and like some sort of Stockholm syndrome I have apparently become dependent on the testosterone. Where's Deeks?"

Callen heard the LAPD liason approaching, and intentionally raised his voice slightly so it would carry to his current partner. "He's flossing his otter."

"Okay, he's…wait, he's what?" Danny asked incredulously.

"Flossing my otter," Deeks replied, stepping into the camp.

"Do I even want to know?" Danny asked.

"If I don't floss him at particular times each day he gets anxious, and if he gets anxious he has nightmares. If he has nightmares, he wets the bed, which attracts all kinds of vermin and then we have to call animal control, and—do you really want to hear this?"

"Actually, if I have a choice, then no, thanks, I'm good."

Deeks glanced towards Callen and both men barely restrained themselves from snickering. As Danny turned around, Callen stuck a hand behind his back for a low five. "Good one, Deeks," he whispered.

"Well, I'm just going to be on my way," the Five-0 detective rambled uncomfortably, "maybe call Grace or something to give Kono a little more time, so bye," and he hurried back the way he came.

As soon as Danny's retreating form was out of sight, the two NCIS partners glanced at each other and burst out laughing.

"Deeks…that…was…brilliant," Callen stated slowly as he tried to recover his breath.

"You were brilliant, how on earth did you think to say that?"

"Guess you're rubbing off on me or something."

"So, flossing my otter?"

"Hey, if it works for you, it works for me."

"I don't think I'll ever be able to say it with a straight face," Deeks replied.

"Can you usually say something with a straight face?" Callen shot back.

"Ow, Callen, that was low!"

Since when did I start bantering with Deeks? Callen wondered. It had taken five years to get to the level of partner ESP where he and Sam could toss sentence fragments back and forth seamlessly. Then again, Nell and Eric had picked it up in a few months.

"So, what are we going to do?" Deeks inquired. "We could play a game, or build a volcano…"

"I'm sure Hetty will give you a gold star," he goaded his partner. "Can't wait to see what you do for your science fair project. I know, we should build a volcano!"

Sam shot him a half-angry, half-playful look. "Maybe I should just—"

"Throw me in one?"

The big guy smirked. "That wasn't what I was going to say."

Callen sighed to himself. If he was brutally honest, a large portion of the blame for his set-back relationship with Sam fell squarely on his shoulders. For a long time after the pair was first partners, he had pushed back every attempt Sam made to be anything besides strictly his partner.

"So, whadaya say, Callen?" Deeks asked.

"Wait, what? I zoned out there."

"Really," Deeks replied sarcastically.

"Seriously."

"Why are you not listening to me?"

"I am."

"Why do I get the feeling you're just avoiding talking as much as possible?"

"I'm not."

"Then stop it with the two word sentences, Callen!" Deeks shot back. "Look, I'm not great at communication, at least if you ask Kensi, but I'm better than you are! Sometimes I don't know how Sam deals with you!"

"Sometimes I wonder how she deals with you," Callen retorted playfully.

Apparently, the detective wasn't in a mood for playful. "Who do you think you are?" Deeks spat.

Callen's mind reeled, trying to catch up with the Detective's rapidly changing mood.

"Are you just going to stand there and stare at me?" the liaison all but yelled.

"Deeks," Callen warned.

"WHAT?" Deeks yelled back, the rage on his face not quite concealing his sadness and self-doubt.

One look at the detective's face, and Callen went back to three years prior, when Deeks shoved the muzzle of his gun into the dirty cop's shoulder.

"He's not worth it, Deeks!" he had reminded. The entire team stood around, wondering, wishing they knew how to rescue one of their own. Callen had talked Marines off ledges, and Sam had talked shooters on the brink off massacres.

But in the end, it was Kensi who stopped him. "Deeks! Put it down!" And the conflicted man had slowly removed his gun, ejected the shell, and handed it to the woman he trusted.

In that second, Callen knew who could stop Deeks' (probably PTSD-induced) outburst.

"Deeks, I need you to calm down." The agent realized this confrontation could go any number of really bad ways, especially with the detective under pressure and armed. He slowly started edging towards Deeks' pack, needing to get to a sat phone before his friend completely snapped.

"Deeks, please, just listen to me. I'm sorry! I should have been listening to you."

"No, you're not! You don't care!"

Just a few more feet… "Deeks, I care. Sam cares—you saved his life. Eric and Nell, they care about you. Hetty sees you as one of hers. Kensi…" His voice trailed off. He didn't really know what to say there, but the statement had bought him enough time to get to his phone.

"Deeks, please, you need to believe me." Callen mashed the call button. C'mon, Eric, pick up.

"Yeah, Deeks," the techie responded.

"It's Callen, where's Kensi?" Callen hissed.

"Um…"

"No time for ums, Eric, I need Kensi pronto!"

Callen turned back to his current partner. "Deeks, you are one of us. I need you to trust me."

"KENSI!" Callen could hear Eric's muffled yell. Then a shuffling noise, static as the phone changed hands.

"Callen?" the junior agent asked.

"Kenz, it's Deeks. I have no idea what set him off, but he just lost it."

"Put me on speaker."

"…you're just saying that to make me be quiet. You don't want me out here, you don't want me on your team," the surfer rambled.

"Deeks!" Kensi called.

"Wha…Kensi?"

"Deeks, listen to me, please."

"What is it, Kensi?"

"Give it to him," Kensi told Callen quietly. He flicked the phone off speaker and handed it to the distraught detective.

As Deeks paced away from the camp, Callen sagged against a tree, still shaking from the tense encounter. He took a couple of deep breaths, trying to reign in the adrenaline coursing through his body.

Callen moved to lean back in the hammock, interlacing his fingers behind his head in an attempt to find a more comfortable position. Hetty must be really upset at him for the scrambled-eggs-triggered-fist-fight incident.

Then it hit him, like a gurkha's knife to the heart. I thought of my partner as a suspect.

Callen turned around, thumping his forehead into the tree. Over and over, the thought accused him. I treated my partner like a suspect. I thought of Deeks like a bad guy.

Blindly, he groped for his sat phone, punching in Sam's number by muscle memory.

"Hi, Sam's driving, this is Chin," the Five-0 detective greeted him.

Callen fought to stabilize his voice. "It's Callen. I need to talk to him."

"Is everything alright?" Detective Kelley inquired.

"I just…need to talk to Sam," Callen replied blankly.

"G., are you okay?" Sam asked.

"I'm not hurt, Sam."

"What's wrong, G?"

Callen sighed. "I thought of my partner…like a suspect."

A/N: Reviews, please? I promise, the next chapter you will figure out what in the world happened.