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Marty Deeks has to work out his relationships with his partners. One is the love of his life, but she is no longer available to him. The other has always been there, but can he love her enough?

Disclaimer: The characters and sets of NCIS: LA are all owned by CBS, Donald P. Bellisario, and Shane Brennan. I only own a copy of the DVDs from season 1-5 (but I do have season 6 on order). I do get to play with everyone, but they all have to be home by curfew.

A/N: All of my stories will be on temporary hiatus until further notice. I still need to have some medical procedures taken care of. Until they have been completed I have been told to spend limited time on the computer. The whole process may be done hopefully by mid-December. Until that time, I will post when I am able. When things have been successfully completed, I will again continue to post new chapters regularly. I am sorry if this disappoints people, but I have to take care of me so I can continue to write.

A/N 2: Thanks, Gina and Sue for being more than betas – reading, suggesting, always improving the work that I post.

Do Not Speak Ill of the Dead

Chapter 14

Deeks' Apartment, Long Beach ||

Deeks began to realize that if he continued to do the same things over and over again and expect the results to change, that he would go insane. Dr. Sandstarom had mentioned one thing in their session that resonated with him. If he wanted things to change in his life, he would have to start doing things differently. He was determined to try to make that change. Maybe it would force the demons from his mind.

The detective remembered how he had sarcastically snapped at his boss at LAPD. Thinking back, Deeks knew that Bates did not deserve the treatment that he gave him. Yes, he had lost his partner and just come back from her funeral. But the Lieutenant had lost Traynor too. Deeks did not know what it felt like to order people into situations where they might not come back. And when that horrific result happens, he had no clue how it affected how they continued to deal with their job and day to day events. Bates must be feeling just as bad as he was. The man deserved an apology from him.

Picking up his phone, he put in a call to his LAPD boss.

"Lieutenant, this is Deeks. I...uh...I really don't know how to say this...I was wrong the way I treated you the last time I called." He rushed through the words as if he would not get them out if he didn't.

"Deeks? Is that really you? The voice sounds the same, but the words are not making sense."

"It's me, Lieutenant. And I do apologize for my last call. I was hurting. A lot. But I didn't realize that you must have been hurting just as much, or even more because Jess died. And for not realizing that, I have to ask your forgiveness."

I wonder if it is that doctor that the little witch is having him see that made this change in him? Bates thought to himself. Whatever it is, it might be a whole lot easier dealing with him, especially if I don't have him to do any more undercover assignments.

"That's okay, Deeks. All of us here were torn up with Traynor's death. It should have never happened. And Internal Affairs is gonna see that Scarli gets everything that's coming to him for his hand in it. I hope he doesn't get the death penalty. Just have him put in the prison general population and let it be known he was a cop. The inmates will dispense their own justice on him. I'll bet it isn't more than a month and he's dead." Bates confessed.

"Yeah," the younger man agreed. "But I really wanted to thank you for getting the medals for Traynor. I was glad to see that they included the ones she earned here mentioned at her funeral in Chicago."

"You don't have to thank me. You know it wasn't my doing. I could have never rushed them through that fast, no matter how deserving she was of them."

"Let me guess. My other boss? Of course it was. Henrietta Lange has her fingers in everything. I don't doubt that she gave the Chief of Police a call and told him, not asked him, but told him to rush the commendations through. She probably told him which ones to award her, too." Deeks said, with a slight tone of awe in his voice.

"You know, there are some more ribbons for your chest too. If it was that little woman behind it, she included you in the commendations."

"I don't want anything out of it. My partner died, and nothing will bring her back. Why should I be rewarded for that?" the young man exclaimed.

"You know that she is gonna demand it, and I'm the one she will take it out on."

"You just tell Hetty that I am the one who is refusing to accept them. No matter how much she insists, I will refuse. I will quit the LAPD, and my position at NCIS, if I have to, rather than accept any medals or commendations for killing my partner."

Bates tried to calm him down, "Deeks, you know that the medals are not for that. . . "

The young man jumped in before he could continue, "But that's what I see them as. I won't have them. I'll leave. I swear it. I know someplace in the Midwest that would accept my application immediately."

"Okay, Deeks. I understand. I'll make a note of it in your file. Anything else?" the Lieutenant asked, as he noted that these awards should be handed out later, maybe at the Police Recognition Banquet, because of how the detective felt. Maybe even next year's banquet.

"No. Just that I don't know how long it will be before the doctor certifies me for work. I'll give you a call when that happens."

"That's fine. Just take care of yourself and come back to us."

"Yeah." Deeks didn't know how much bitterness came across in his final phrase. He tried to make nice with his boss. Evidently he still had a long way to go yet.

. . . . .

Professional Building, Downtown Los Angeles

Deeks again paused before going into Dr. Sandstarom's office. This time, it wasn't his apprehension about the doctor. While not a friend yet, even as informally as he considered Nate Getz to be, the man no longer intimidated him. He was concerned, however, about what the therapist would try to dig out of his mind. Would it just give his father more ammunition to use against him in his nightmares or through Max? But he knew that he had to get the doctor's endorsement if he were going to go back to work.

Consigning himself to the inevitable, he entered the outer office. The receptionist looked up at him and nodded, acknowledging his presence, then indicated that he should go into the doctor's private office. Seeing that the door was left ajar, Deeks went in and sat down in the same grouping of chairs he did last time. Dr. Sandstarom picked up his notepad, got up from his desk and joined the detective.

After a very little small talk on how he felt, the doctor began the session. "Today I would like you to talk about the women in your life. Can you tell me about your mother?"

Deeks never expected this topic to come up so abruptly. Hee knew it would be on the doctor's agenda, but thought he would have more time to prepare himself for if."

"Ah..my mom. What do I remember about her? She kept a nice little home. She often went without just so my sister and I would have the things that we needed. That was especially true after Gordon lost his job and started drinking all the time. He blamed me for a lot of his problems, but mom protected me, often taking the beatings that were intended for me. I think Gordon killed her the night that I shot him." Deeks' voice had gotten progressively quieter during this answer. In the end, it was barely a moderate whisper.

"Don't you know if your father killed your mother? You were there. Didn't you see it?"

"I was there. I saw Gordon beat her until she didn't move. When the police and social services came that night, they whisked me out of there. No one wanted to talk about it. I was interviewed as to my part in it. But I never saw the outcome. Nobody told me about the trial, except for the fact that Gordon was locked away and couldn't hurt me anymore."

"As a lawyer or police officer, you never wanted to see the court records?"

"I wanted nothing at all to do with Gordon Brandel. I have cut myself off completely from him. The only thing that I really care about is that he is dead, and cannot physically hurt me. I wish I could say the same thing about the one in my head." His brain had blanked out what had happened. The detective could have gone back and read the official police report, but he never did because he didn't think he could handle it.

"You said you had a sister. Is she still living? What sort of relationship do you have with her?"

Deeks' eyes dropped to looking into his lap and he drew in a large breath of air as if he was going to break out and weep. "Fern... she was my older sister. She was so good. I never heard my parents use her middle name because she never got into trouble. She taught me how to read and do my math. Mom was always out working, so I pretended Fern was the mother who loved me. We had plans to join the circus together. But Gordon went and got her after beating my mom to a pulp. He choked her and raped her in front of me. He was gonna kill me too, that's why I shot him."

As the doctor continued to listen to the early life of the man before him, he marveled more and more that he was as sane and well adjusted as he was, with all that he endured. He had known others who had permanently snapped under even less pressure.

"What about high school? Did you date a lot then?" the doctor asked.

"No. I was really not the best catch in high school. I was known to be adopted, but by then I had my last name changed so they didn't know my past. But that was almost worse than reality. The kids kept making up their own stories about why I wasn't wanted by my family so I was put into the system. I was a small kid, so I wasn't an athlete. I wasn't really smart enough to be a geek. I was just off to the side, all by myself. None of the girls wanted to be seen with me. I never went to the prom. I just tried to get through my high school years."

What about college? Was it just more of the same, or did you finally break out and have any relationships then?"

"No. In college and law school, it was me that turned my back on relationships, at least any long time ones. There were a few short-term relationships, but nothing lasting more than a month or two. I really didn't have the time or the money to invest in anything but my studies. The academics came first and everything else was squeezed into whatever time, if any, was left."

"Janet Deeks, she was your adopted mom? What was life like with her?"

"She and Michael were so great. They were older and had fostered others before I entered their home. They treated me as if I was their natural child. I loved them so much that when they asked me if I wanted to be adopted by them, I did not hesitate to say yes. Then I asked them if I could have my name changed to theirs, and both of them cried. I'm just sorry that Janet died of diabetes before she got to see me graduate from UCLA."

"How about as a cop? Any ladies make an impact in your life?"

"You must know what a cop's schedule is like. Long hours at work, constant stress, rules on just about everything governing your life. The possibility of any relationship is always hit or miss. Unless it is with your partner or someone in the squad, the only women you get to associate with is bar girls and hookers."

"Speaking of partners, what about your relationship with Jess Traynor? She was your partner for what, five or six months?"

"God, Doc. I really don't wanna go there. It's still way too painful for me to deal with."

"Why? Did you have a romance going with her?"

"We started to develop one. If she would have lived I could see me spending the rest of my life with her. I really loved her, and I think she loved me. I can't forgive myself for allowing her to be murdered. I would give my life for her. I would give my soul to have her here with me right now." Deeks was struggling to get the words out, Tears had filled his eyes as he tried to put his relationship with Jess into words.

Rather than torment the young man any further, Dr. Sandstarom brought up another name that would get his mind off the sorrow he was experiencing with his memories of Jess. "What about your relationship with Henrietta Lange?"

"Hetty? You gotta be kidding me. Hetty? Really? One does not have a 'relationship' with Hetty. One works for her or tries to kill her. She is one scary little lady, who treats her agents like they were her children or like she owns them, body and soul. Maybe she does. I'm still trying to find out where I fit in her little world. I know that I will only remain there as long as I conform to her agenda."

"And what about your partner at NCIS? I believe her name is Kensi Blye."

"Kensi, there's another scary lady. She does not have the power that Hetty does. What she does have is the ability to kill you in ten thousand different ways, with any type of weapon that you can imagine, or with her bare hands if no weapon is available. She is a very good agent and a very good partner. My only problem with her is that she just doesn't like me. She is like the rest of the team. I'm not an agent, just a cop, and everyone on the team thinks less of me for it."

. . . . .

The rest of the hour was spent in delving further into the detective's associations with these various women. Dr. Sandstarom was surprised on the personal insights that Deeks had on each of them. The man was truly a person who studied the people with whom he came into contact; he did not just cross paths with them. That was probably one of the main reasons why he was so good at undercover work.

Too soon the hour was gone, and Deeks got up to leave. Before he walked out the door, he asked the doctor, "Do you have any idea when I can go back to work, Doc?"

"I don't think it will be too much longer that you will have to be on medical leave. I will call and discuss your case with Hetty if it all right with you."

"If it gets me back to work quicker, go right ahead."

. . . . .

As soon as Deeks closed the door behind him, the doctor went back to his desk and placed a call to Henrietta Lange, as he promised.

"Hetty, I know that I'm not telling you anything new. This LAPD detective that you have as your liaison officer is quite a remarkable young man. I have never found anyone who has been so mentally resilient. What he has gone through should have destroyed him. Less mental trauma has destroyed stronger men than him. But he has come through it, remarkably well."

"Well, Jonas. I looked long and hard before I chose him. Now please tell me, that I will get him back. There is a soft spot in my heart for him. I see such potential in the man, for him as an individual, and for the team."

"I know that you have partnered him with another woman, Kensi Blye. I don't know what plans you have for the two of them. Maybe another female partner will be good for him. Please let him grow into it. Don't push them into it, but for god's sake, don't do anything to hinder it either. It may blossom and help him to heal. Or he might find his healing somewhere else. It's hard to say.

"So you are saying that he will be okay?"

"The man is fragile. I don't know how much more it will take to break him. Treat him kindly, Hetty, as one of your special children. If you do, he will endure."

"Thank you, doctor."

. . . . .