A/N: Hey, it's only been three months since my last update! Woohoo! So we're getting close to the end here, I know I keep promising that but my faithful and mostly kind readers have convinced me this story needed a little more padding. They really had to twist my arm.

To start things off, I am not a doctor. I have watched a lot of M*A*S*H but they still wouldn't give me my diploma. So, if anything below seems sketchy, it might be but I did my best make this sensible.

Disclaimer: NCIS:LA has yet to be bequeathed to me.

Reviews: Thanks to everyone who has reviewed, followed, favorited and stuck with me throughout my irregular posting in the past year. It's unbelievably gratifying to know that people continue to read my humble attempts at writing.

Regarding specific comments or questions: Jackie: This isn't a straight up Densi story (it is in the sense of friendship I suppose) since I'm keeping their relationship as canon as possible. However, I think there friendship and Kensi's care for Deeks' well-being has grown quite a bit through the course of this fic.

To Guest who commented on chapter two, I believe, I didn't mean to malign the medical community as a whole or really at all. I'm finding that a wee, inconsequential detail has caused more problems than it is worth. That being said, I do have anecdotal evidence of the very thing I described happening. Years ago, when I was in the hospital and again just a few months ago when my father had an extended stay at a hospital. Near the end of his stay, when his condition wasn't so serious, there were days where he never saw his attending doctor despite being assured he would. I understand completely that this happens when emergencies pop up, but it does happen despite rules and protocol. And yes, as you have noted I am a slow updater.

French Fan: Thanks for such a nice comment!

Home Sweet Home, or Close Enough

Thirty minutes of sitting in the rain, one tense ambulance ride and three hours of medical attention later Kensi was once again waiting in an all too familiar place. She'd probably spent more time in the hospital in the last ten days than she had in the past fifteen years. If she never had to see her partner unconscious and bloody with a team of doctors working over him, she could die a happy woman. Watching the EMTs as they assessed Deeks' condition in the ambulance and being incapable of assisting in any way was agonizing.

Once they'd arrived at the hospital Deeks was unloaded and whisked off, leaving her to wait for news. She didn't even have Sam or Callen's companionship to pass the time as they had stayed behind to process the crime scene.

"Anytime, now Deeks." She murmured to the unconscious man in front of her. "I know you need your beauty sleep, but this is getting ridiculous." Ever since he'd been settled into his room she'd been dropping idle comments every few minutes, each dig growing more sarcastic, and in her opinion, funny, as though the sheer ridiculousness would rouse him.

Despite her best attempts his head remained tilted towards the other side of the room, as motionless as when she'd walked in. Several blackish bruises covered much of his jaw and cheekbones and a collection of butterfly bandages dotted the bridge of his nose and the line of his scalp. A thorough investigation had revealed even more impressive bruising over the bits of his torso that weren't covered with gauze along with a sizable bump beneath his wildly curling hair.

Someone had clearly washed his hair since it was no longer matted with mud, sweat and blood but rather framed his face like an untamed halo. The urge to run her fingers through the soft-looking strands was nearly irresistible, if only for the reassuring comfort it would provide.

"Agent Blye?" Kensi started at the sound of her name, shifting closer to Deeks and clamping a hand around his wrist at the unexpected intrusion. Deeks' surgeon who she'd met briefly while Deeks was being transferred to his room, Doctor Matthew Hoang, poked his head a little further around door, wiggling a couple fingers in a reassuring gesture. He wore a gentle smile that seemed out of sorts with his six and a half foot frame and even more so, given the late hour. "Didn't mean to startle you, just thought I'd drop by and get you up to speed on Agent Deeks' condition since I didn't have a chance earlier."

"Detective." Kensi corrected automatically. "But he goes by just Deeks or Marty."

"Ok, then." He said, seemingly unperturbed by Kensi's twitchiness. "Well, as I mentioned before Marty's in pretty good condition for what I gather he's been through in the last few days. My biggest concern is the reopened wounds, what with the rough treatment, the lack of proper medication and exposure some of the sutures are slightly inflamed. Quite frankly I'm surprised he doesn't have a full-blown infection at this point. We want to make sure that doesn't happen so we've got him on two strong antibiotics to combat whatever gunk might be floating around in there. Agent, you still with me?" Kensi nodded automatically, catching Dr. Hoang's eye who peered down at her with a kindly expression.

"I know it's a lot to take in." He offered knowingly.

"No, I'm fine." She insisted.

"Ok, aside from that he's pretty banged up but most of it is minor, all things considered. He has a large bump on the back of his head, but we didn't see any signs of bleeding or brain damage on CT scan. We'll still monitor it over the next couple days. Most of the bruising and abrasions are superficial." Kensi nodded again when he paused, feeling simultaneously overwhelmed by the laundry list of injuries and relieved that it was apparently not that serious.

"There also weren't any signs of internal bleeding in his abdomen and only mild bruising, again we'll monitor that but I'm not overly worried. He did re-break one of his previously injured ribs."

"Are you sure it was only one?" Kensi interjected before Dr. Hoang could add in another non-fatal but undoubtedly painful injury. She'd had a broken rib before and it had hurt like hell, but she didn't have trouble breathing like Deeks. "I mean, when I found him he could barely sit or breathe, I think he passed out from the pain." Hoang chuckled darkly.

"I'm sure he did. Aside from the cracked ones, he's got moderate bruising on six to go along with everything else. I'm surprised he was cognizant."

"But you're not worried?" Kensi asked, skepticism coloring her tone.

"I wouldn't say not worried so much as cautiously optimistic. Like I said, my biggest concern is the possibility of infection, my second concern is dehydration. We're pushing fluids so we should be covered on that base while he's in our care. Do you have any other questions?" Hoang asked and Kensi forced down the knot of apprehension that threatened to choke her.

"Um, how long will he be here? Is there anything I can do that would help speed up that process?" She knew Deeks would want to be released as soon as possible, especially given his recent familiarity with hospitals. Dr. Hoang scratched at the side of his head absentmindedly, dislodging a thick tuft of hair and rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet a few times as he considered her question.

"Well, the length of Marty's stay all depends on how quickly he heals. If there aren't any complications then maybe a couple days, but say that inflammation flares up into something more, then we could be looking at a significantly longer stay. As for what you can do, stop him from doing anything stupid and most importantly, make sure nobody hurts him again. At least until his stitches are out."

"Oh, he better hope nothing else happens to him." Kensi muttered darkly to herself. Dr. Hoang raised a thick eyebrow and Kensi pasted on a tight smile, hopefully making her words sound less threatening and more protective. "I just meant, if anyone tries to hurt him, they'll regret it."

"Right…anyway, that's pretty much it for now. Once Detective Deeks wakes up, we can go more in depth about the do's and don'ts."

"So you're sure he will regain consciousness." Kensi pressed, not happy with the uncertain terms of the doctor's analysis.

"Well technically, I'm not supposed to tell you anything's for sure." He leaned forward, as though departing a great secret, and whispered the next part. "It makes the lawyers twitchy. But, I can say with a fair amount of accuracy that your partner will wake up and he will recover. He just needs time to recuperate; his body's been through a heck of a lot and it needs a little down time. Whether that time is four hours or a day…" He gave a shrug. "That I can't be so sure about."

In the end, Deeks didn't take the full 24 hours Kensi had allotted him, but it was still some of the most stressful seven hour and fifty-three minutes she had ever spent. She continued to talk throughout the night and into the early morning, her babbling becoming less coherent as exhaustion raged and making her sound much like her still silent partner.

"I called Callen when I went for coffee, he said Sam's pretty impressed by your escape. Not that he'll ever tell you. Of course the LAPD will want to speak with you, but I think it'll be an open and shut case." She cleared her throat, which was growing raspy with the constant talking, and took a sip of frigid coffee. Unfortunately the lowered temperature didn't improve its taste.

"Oh god, this is so much worse than my nightmare." Deeks groaned unexpectedly beside her. He sounded like he'd been gargling nails for the last fifty years, but it still had Kensi leaning forward in her seat, a concerned expression crossing her features even as she sighed with relief.

"Hey, you're awake. Do you need anything? I should probably get your doctor." She rattled off, already taking a step towards the door. Deeks hand clamping loosely around her wrist brought her to a halt.

"Wait, Kensi, just wait a second. My head is killing me, it feels like someone used my chest as a punching bag and I'm pretty sure Monty was eaten by an alligator so if you could just give me a minute…" Kensi felt slightly light-headed, nearly giddy with relief as his voice grew stronger the longer he talked.

"Well, I can ask your doctor about pain–wait, what do you mean an alligator ate Monty?" Deeks shifted restlessly, attempting to scooch a little higher on the bed. He waved his hand lazily in her direction.

"Never mind, I remember now. You shot them with your bow and arrow." If she hadn't been busy worrying about him, Kensi might have found his slightly confused, lost puppy dog look adorable. As it was she couldn't decide if she should page a nurse or just let him be.

"Ok, maybe you've had enough pain meds." Kensi commented, not entirely sure if he was messing with her.

"Can I have some water?"

"Of course." She said immediately, turning in the slightly cramped quarters to grab the yellow plastic pitcher (they were always such dreary, sickly colors) and flimsy Styrofoam cup with a straw in it. "I don't think you're supposed to have ice right now, so this might be kind of warm." Deeks gave her an incredulous look, as though he could care less if his water was cold or not, and took the cup with a slightly shaking hand.

He pressed the rim to his cracked lips, ignoring the straw and pulled in a long, slow sip before releasing a grateful sigh. After two more careful mouthfuls he handed the cup back to Kensi, his arm dropping heavily to the blanket covering his lap. Moving gingerly, he shifted uncomfortably as he attempted to push himself up again and inadvertently pulled on his IV.

Kensi turned in the cramped space between the hospital bed and table to replace Deeks' water cup. When she had turned back around his eyes had slid shut, his head tilted forward so his chin nearly touched his chest. With a sign she slipped palms around his neck, ignoring the soft edges of his hair as she cupped his head.

"Ok, I'll let you nap now but next time we talk I'm expecting my partner to be firing on all cylinders." She whispered as she adjusted Deeks' head until it was nestled in the thin hospital pillow.

Kensi woke with a start in the dimly lit room with no memory of falling asleep or idea of what time it was. She craned her head, searching for the clock behind her chair when she realized what had woken her. Soft, strained noises where coming from her partner. She hesitated for only a second and then she had crossed the two steps between the chair and bed where Deeks lay, the noises becoming increasingly distressed.

"Deeks." She murmured as she peered down at him. His left hand swung up suddenly as though to block a punch and his face twisted with what she imagined was pain and perhaps fear. "Deeks." Kensi repeated slightly louder. The need to grab hold of him and shake him into consciousness was strong, but she ignored the urge and settled for firmly grasping his wrist. The moment she did his eyes popped open, a horrible wheezing noise escaping when he tried to suck in a breath.

"Hey, you're ok." She assured him, but rather than calming down he jerked his hand away and shifted as far back as he could against the wall. Kensi clasped her hands together, waiting for the wary look to leave his eyes.

"Kensi." He breathed finally, recognition crossing his features. "Sorry…dream." Deeks explained haltingly.

"It's ok, I get it. Was it the dog-eating alligator again?" She joked. Deeks let out a breath on a shaky laugh and ran his unencumbered hand across the top of his head.

"Yeah, no…uh, turns out Tom and Jerry are even less fun in dream form. It's a good thing neither of them had my imagination."

"Well, it looks like they did a pretty good job anyway." Kensi commented to keep her mind off whatever horrific things Deeks' subconscious had dreamt up. For all she knew, this was tame compared to what he'd experienced in his previous work as an undercover cop.

"So what's the damage?"

"Wouldn't you rather wait until Dr. Hoang comes?" Kensi suggested, hoping Deeks would take the hint and let her page somebody with medical experience.

"Not really." Deeks said.

"Ok, then. Re-broken rib, torn sutures, bruises, mild concussion and mild dehydration."

"Ah, so I should be up in a day or two." He surmised dryly. Kensi snorted her opinion.

"Your doctor didn't give an exact timeline but you'll be alright as long as you don't let anymore idiots kidnap you."

"Speaking of idiots, what happened to Tweedledee and Tweedledum?" Deeks asked in a voice that sounded just a little too casual to Kensi.

"We took care of them. Well, to be more specific, you took care of them."

"Ah, so that part of the dream was real. Huh." His expression was unreadable.

"You don't look too happy for someone who escaped a couple of budding sociopaths and then stopped them from hurting anyone else." Kensi commented lightly, watching Deeks' face for signs of what was going on in her normally easygoing partner's mind.

"I never wanted to kill them."

"It was self-defense, Deeks. They beat you for over a day after taking you from your home." Kensi countered with growing outrage.

"Yeah, but I just wonder if I hadn't screwed with them so much would they have done any of this. I made them hate me and guys like Tom and Jerry hold grudges for a long time. Maybe if I'd just left them alone none of this would have happened." He turned his head as he finished, his jaw set. Kensi leaned forward, breaching the invisible boundary Deeks had set and grasping his hand between hers. Deeks slowly turned to face her and she could see an off-color comment building as he took in their linked fingers.

"Deeks, regardless of what you did, they were responsible for their actions. By the sound of it they did a lot of terrible things and they ended up paying for it in the end. I'm not going to let you take the blame for protecting yourself. Ok?" Deeks didn't respond immediately so she gave his hand a firm shake until he met her gaze once more.

"Ok." Deeks agreed quietly, the barest hint of a smile creasing the corners of his mouth.

"Detective Deeks?" Kensi jerked her hand from Deeks' as a nurse she didn't recognize gave a perfunctory knock on the door before walking into the room. She gave both Deeks and a Kensi a nod. "It's good to see you're awake. I'm Rachelle. I'm just going to check your stats and then we'll see about getting you some pain meds, ok?" Deeks nodded wordlessly which seemed fine with Nurse Rachelle who quietly checked his oxygen and switched out IV bags.

"Well, your heart rate seems good, temp's a little high but that's to be expected. Now, what's your pain level?"

"Four and half." Deeks answered at the same time that Kensi said,

"Seven." Deeks turned with an annoyed expression while Rachelle snorted at their antics.

"How about we call it a five?" She suggested. "I'll give you a low dose for now, but if you start to feel more pain, you've got that handy-dandy button on your left side." Deeks nodded again at the familiar routine. "Dr. Hoang will come to check on you later this morning, probably around ten or eleven, ok?"

"I'm sure it'll be a blast." Deeks answered with just a hint of sulkiness. Rachelle smiled anyway as she disposed of her gloves and left the room.

"I thought nurses were your thing, Deeks." Kensi prompted once the door had creaked closed.

"I'll have you know that I enjoy a broad range of women." Deeks shot back, wincing again while he tried to change positions in the small bed.

"So you just don't like redheads?"

"I love redheaded nurses, but the novelty starts to where off a little after the third or so visit. I should have a membership card by now." Along with the intended sharpness of his words, Kensi could hear the growing exhaustion in Deeks' voice. He started to say something but was caught off by a dry, sharp cough that had him clutching at his injured ribs.

"Hey, I should let you get some rest." She suggested, disturbed by his suddenly much paler face. Any color that had returned in the last few hours had vanished. She started to get to her feet, but Deeks waved her back down.

"I'm not gonna be able to sleep for a couple more hours, way too restless. I mean, you probably wanna go home but if you–"

"I'd love to stay. I hear there's a My Strange Addiction marathon on and I've been dying to catch up." Deeks smiled gratefully at Kensi's poorly couched excuse, handing over the bulky TV control.

"Do your worst."

A/N: Again, not a doctor. Hope you enjoyed and thanks for reading!