Breakthrough

Chapter 25

…

He came out of the tiny shower and vigorously rubbed himself down, burying his face in the damp towel before sliding it over his head and gingerly drying his hair. His head still pulsed with dull pain and the coffee and two glazed donuts sat heavily in his stomach, but at least he felt somewhat human after the shower. He dropped the towel down around his neck and closed his eyes, not wanting to see how puffy and bloodshot they were in the bathroom mirror, but eventually he opened them and began to assess the cuts and bruises still visible on his face. There was still a prominent scar under his eye where Weston Maddox had struck him with the butt of his knife, and the section of hair the doctors had shaved had yet to grow all the way out to cover the healing cut above his temple. His ribs didn't cause him acute pain, but they remained sore and tender to the touch, which he should have remembered, flinching now as he examined the faded grey green bruises along his left side. A flashing image of the SUV slamming into him made him jerk as if being hit and he blew out his breath to ease the sudden throb of pain it brought. The physical scars were nothing new, he was used to getting them and they would soon fade. It was the confusing mish-mash of memories and emotions that were causing him to consider what he wanted to do with the rest of his life.

He hung his head, gripping the edge of the sink as he once again went over all the things Pete had said to him. His old friend had been honest and straightforward as he'd always been, and right about everything. He knew that his reasoning about the consequences was true, but his own perspective was different, and Pete didn't know everything. The bloody death of Elliot Dale was something he couldn't forget no matter how much he wanted to, because he had seen it coming. He and Callen both had. They knew Guidry wasn't the kind of man to let Elliot's father-in-law, Doc Mouton, get away with what had been done to him on that boat, but it was when they'd alerted the man to Eliot's betrayal of The Brotherhood by spying on him with General Rasmussen, that the man's fate had been sealed. Deeks remembered his weak attempt to save him and the cold shock he felt when he failed. The numbing violence that followed had chilled his soul so deeply he wasn't sure if he'd ever be free of it. He'd been a vulture that day, somehow complicit in Guidry's brutality because he had stood silent and watched a man butchered.

"Sonofabitch," whispering the word as his mind filled with images of the bloody aftermath.

Just having Guidry's name in his head was deeply disturbing and painful even after all the time that had past. That sick bastard had cared for Jimmy Hale, an alias so distasteful to him he'd done everything he could think of to banish it from his memory. Nothing had worked. He no longer could distinguish between Guidry and the violent thug that was Jimmy Hale. It was his alias that had enabled him to remain mute while that sick bastard had flayed a man to death. It was Jimmy Hale he had clung to, his own mind blank and unable to function as he allowed a monster to unleash the terrible darkness of his depraved soul. Jimmy Hale had saved him and Callen that day and it made him sick. He suddenly backhanded the water glass off the sink, shaking as it shattered against the shower door, the sharp pieces littering the linoleum.

"Fuck."

He brought the towel up and covered his face, cursing softly as his heart pounded in his ears, making his headache scream. He sensed someone's presence and he felt the sudden urge to hit whoever was there, and that scared him.

"Get the fuck out," he said, his voice muffled by the towel.

"Not happening, Deeks."

"Callen?" He said, letting the towel drop. "How'd you know to come here?"

"Kensi called me last night, after she'd talked to Hetty," he answered. "I went over to see her and we had a long talk."

"So…she doesn't want to see me?"

"She does, but she thinks we should talk first," he replied.

"Is she pissed at me?"

"Not anymore. Just concerned."

"About?"

"I didn't come here to play games," Callen said seriously, his eyes dark and intense. "And neither did you, brother. You're the one who's angry…and we both know why."

"Yeah…what the fuck do you know…brother?"

"That Jimmy Hale isn't gone yet…and he needs to be," Callen said. "Can't you hear it Deeks? Couldn't you hear his voice coming out of your mouth just now?"

"Fuck!"

"We have to go back there," Callen said without emotion. "That swamp is the place Jimmy Hale became a part of you, and we need to go back there and deal with that."

"Are you fucking kidding me right now?" Deeks practically screamed in his face. "I hate that place…"

"Yeah…but you hate Jimmy Hale more," Callen said and took a step toward him.

That one step sparked such a visceral reaction Deeks had no time to stop himself, slugging Callen hard in the face. He stumbled back and Deeks rushed him, tackling him onto the bed and hitting him again before he was able to strike back. A solid punch in his sore ribs took some of the air out of his attack, the second one left him gasping for air. He heard the shout behind him, but his head felt as if it had exploded, and he could do nothing as strong hands pulled him off of his brother and held his arms back.

"Deeks! Stop, man. Stop."

Pete's voice was urgent and commanding and he finally slumped back against him, his eyes squeezed shut against what he had done.

"You okay, Callen?" Pete asked.

"Yeah…let him go," he replied. "I hurt him more than he hurt me."

"You haven't looked in the mirror, man," Pete said, huffing out a laugh. "Now, one of you want to tell me what happened to make you wanna beat the shit outa each other?"

"No," both men said in unison.

"Okay. Have it your way. A fresh pot of coffee's on downstairs when you're ready," Pete said. "Just don't make me come back up here. I'm getting too old to run up a flight of stairs to pull two idiots apart."

"Okay, old man," Deeks said sheepishly.

Pete closed the door behind him when he left and Callen brushed by Deeks to go into the bathroom, tenderly touching his soon to be black eye. He grabbed a towel and wet the corner, gently wiping away the blood from his cut lip. Deeks watched him, his anger replaced by a sick feeling in his stomach.

"G…"

"You just made my point, brother," Callen said softly, turning to look at him. "What just happened wasn't you."

"I know, and it scares the hell out of me," he said and turned away.

He took his clothes from the hook by the window and slowly got dressed, sadness dragging at him. Callen let him be, but the distance between them hurt, and he silently castigated himself for losing control to an alias he thought he had left behind in the swamps of Louisiana.

"You never told me what you and Kensi talked about," He said as a way to bridge the gap between them.

"I told her about Jimmy Hale," he replied, and Deeks felt a flash of white-hot anger.

"Dammit G…you had no right," He choked out.

"She has a right to know, Deeks," he replied earnestly. "You're going to marry her. You know you won't be able to keep that alias from coming between you if you don't deal with it before the wedding."

"What did she say?" He finally asked when his anger dimmed.

"She's the one who suggested we go back to Louisiana."

"Seriously?"

"She loves you, Deeks," he said. "And she knows you're still having trouble over everything that happened. When I told her about Jimmy Hale she almost cried. That's not who you are and I know it's not who you want to be, especially around her. Let's go back and deal with it."

"Do you think it will help?" He asked, choking out the words as he tried to come to terms with what a trip like that would mean.

"We'll stay till it does," he replied.

"Just us?"

"No. Joe wants to come. Says he needs to thank the Toussaints," Callen replied. "Roy offered to meet us at the airport and be our guide. Says we'd get lost without him and then he'd have to go in anyway to find our sorry asses."

"So…just the three of us then, and Roy," he said, trying to let his mind adjust to the idea.

"Hetty's on board with the idea," Callen said. "Said she has a friend who can offer us a private jet for the flight."

"That happened fast. How long you been planning this?" Deeks said, feeling as if he was being handled.

"It was arranged last night, Deeks, while you were sleeping it off," Callen said firmly. "Don't get defensive. We're trying to help you."

"Yeah, right," Deeks replied, unable to keep from sounding surly.

He saw Callen's face soften into sadness and he recognized the persistent itch of Jimmy Hale in the pit of his stomach.

"I need coffee. You coming?" Callen finally said and quickly strode from the room and down the stairs.

Callen's sudden absence almost had a physical impact on him. He felt empty, their connection forged when they were surrounded by enemies now seeming fragile and that hit him hard. They had become true brothers during the mission and he knew Callen would never do anything to hurt him, but he felt a tingling of dread when he thought about going back. Facing who he had become in that foul swamp was not something he really wanted to do, but recognized it was something he had to do, for Kensi and for their future.

"You're tougher than this, buddy," he whispered to himself.

He walked slowly down the stairs and stopped at the bottom when he saw Kensi sitting at the bar holding a donut. She turned to look at him, her expression hopeful and her eyes warm with a glaze of tears.

"Hey," unable to think of anything else to say.

"You okay?" She asked. "Callen said he hit you."

"I hit him first," he replied with a slight grin.

"I can see that," she said. "I saved you a donut."

"Just coffee is fine," he said softly, looking over at Callen as he talked on the phone, studiously ignoring him.

"I'm coming, Deeks," Kensi said, her voice as strong as her determination.

"Kens…"

"I'm your partner and I'm coming with you," she said again, and he suddenly felt relieved.

"Good. I'd actually like that," he said as Max shoved a mug of coffee across the bar.

He stepped up to her and she reached out to caress his cheek. He leaned over and kissed her and his whole body relaxed, the tension easing just because of her touch.

"I brought your go-bag," she said softly.

"Wait. We're leaving right now?" He asked, feeling the rush of uncertainty once again.

"Jet's being fueled up right now at the Santa Monica Airport," Callen said, the look on his face making Deeks realize he wasn't going to be able to duck this.

"Joe's meeting us there," Kensi said.

"And Elan?" He asked.

"He decided to stay and work on getting Joe's house ready to sell," she replied.

"What's the real reason he's not coming?" Deeks asked, noticing a reluctance to answer in both of them.

"He doesn't think you should go back," Callen said. "Thinks it'll be too hard on you."

"What about you? Or does he think you're tougher than me?" Deeks said, resenting the implied insult.

"Maybe not tougher, but I am more experienced," Callen said with a short laugh.

"That's because you're a lot older," Deeks said, allowing a grin to lighten his words.

"To be honest…I think watching what all of us went through on that mission was a lot harder on Elan than he's let on," Callen said quietly. "He was frustrated that he couldn't help and I think he feels guilty about that."

"Yeah… we've talked about it a little," Deeks acknowledged.

"I spoke with George this morning," Kensi said, running her hand down his arm and entwining her fingers with his. "He believes it will help."

"Good to know," he replied, finally accepting the reality of the whole thing. "Hope the weather's cooler than the last time. Where we staying?"

"Not sure yet, but Roy's already working on what to serve for dinner," Callen said with his signature smirk. "Told him no grits."

"So this is really happening," Deeks said, and reached for the mug of coffee.

He stared into the steaming black coffee, his hand trembling slightly as he worked to steel himself to the fact that he would be in Louisiana by dinner time. He had no idea what it would be like to walk in the same footsteps he'd walked as Jimmy Hale. For all he knew, men still loyal to Guidry and The Brotherhood might be living in the camps. If they were, how would they react to seeing Jimmy and Jake Hale, the two men responsible for his downfall. Maybe they had no idea the two of them were really federal agents, but if they had found out somehow, then all of them would be walking into a dangerous situation.

"You bringing some fire power?" He asked Callen.

"It's being delivered right to the plane," he replied.

"You boys expecting trouble?" Pete asked. "You need backup, Marty?"

"You're retired. Stay that way," Deeks said, settling down now that the whole trip felt like an op.

He guzzled down the rest of his coffee and when he set the mug down he saw Max staring at him. "Take care, kid. Let us know how things turn out."

"Thanks. I will."

Pete gave him a quick hug before he walked out the back door to the parking lot. He didn't think he would ever come back here. Too many memories, and he had enough of those.

…

Kensi had a tight grip on his hand as the small jet pierced the thick grey clouds and began its descent. The ground appeared out of the mist and he stared down at the vast green checkerboard landscape of fields and tight clusters of houses making up the small towns in what Roy called Cajun country. They were flying under heavy cloud cover now, but up ahead he could see a strip of blue where the storm ended. He'd never been in this part of Louisiana, and he was grateful they were flying into Lafayette instead of New Orleans. He wasn't in the mood to recreate his first time here. This wasn't a black ops mission this time, and for some reason he began to feel like a tourist, which was dangerous if any members of The Brotherhood were still around.

None of them had talked much during the flight, but he glanced over at Joe, knowing how difficult it must be for him. Kensi seemed to sense his unease and snuggled up against him. Having her with him changed things, and he turned to kiss her softly on the forehead.

"What was that for?" She asked.

"For coming."

"No way I was letting you come without me," she said.

Her tone of voice made him smile. She wasn't viewing this as a vacation and she hadn't come as a tourist. She came to back him up if anyone even blinked an eye at him.

"I'm glad you came," he said into the soft curls of her hair. "Keeps me from thinking about all the shit I went through here."

"We'll face it all together, baby," she whispered, pulling his face to hers and kissing him sweetly on the cheek.

"This is the airport I flew into," Joe said calmly. "God, it was hot. Like being in a sauna."

"I don't think I ever sweated so much in my life," Callen said.

"You smelled too," Deeks reminded him.

"Not as bad as you, brother," Callen said with a smirk.

"Supposed to be in the seventies in December." Kensi said.

"Thanks, Wikipedia," Callen said.

As light as the conversation was, Deeks still felt the uneasiness they were all trying to hide, and he turned to look out the window. The lights of Lafayette had just started to come on as the plane approached the airport, but it was the swampy ground to the east that caused his throat to tighten and his heart to race. It was dark and foreboding and he closed his eyes as painful memories assaulted him.

"Hey," Kensi said. "I'm here, baby. Talk to me."

"Not ready, Kens," he replied, blowing out his breath as he waited for the wheels to touch down.

"I don't think I can do this," Joe's choked voice pulling him out of his own grim thoughts.

Kensi reached across the aisle and gripped Joe's hand and he clung to her as the plane taxied to a stop at the terminal. Now that they were on the ground, Callen couldn't seem to wait to get off the plane, but Joe hung back, his face rigid and his eyes full of doubt and remembered pain.

"Come on Joe," Kensi said.

"Please tell me I don't have to face the Doucets again," he replied, looking at Deeks. "It was hard enough seeing them at the ranch when I was on pain pills."

"Callen didn't say anything about meeting up with the Doucets," Deeks said. "Roy's going to pick us up and take us to the hotel. In the morning we'll head up to the Toussaint place."

Joe nodded and seemed to shake off his uncertainty, picking up his go bag and letting Kensi lead him to the door. The tarmac was wet from the recent storm, and a cool breeze whipped around them as they made their way toward the small glassed-in arrival lounge. Deeks was surprised to see the room was crowded, but assumed they were waiting for another flight. Callen suddenly stopped as the door opened and Roy stepped out.

"Glad y'all made it," his soft drawl so familiar. "But, I gotta warn ya. I told Gus Doucet you were comin' and damn it ta hell if he didn't tell the rest of 'em. Now the whole damn family is here to greet ya."

Joe looked stricken by the news and let go of Kensi's hand, looking as if he wanted to run. Deeks and Callen both got to him as he turned back toward the plane, each one taking an arm and trying to still his panic. It was the sound of Cajun that made them stop and they were suddenly surrounded by Doucets of all shapes and sizes. They spoke softly to one another as they reached out to Joe, some patting him gently on the back or squeezing his arm. When the group parted for a large older woman in a flowered dress, Joe's eyes filled with tears as she embraced him.

"It so good ta see ya again, mon fils."

Deeks stumbled back, stunned by the sick feeling that filled him as that familiar term of endearment echoed with stark memories. He'd hoped to never hear it again and wondered why he had ever let Callen talk him into coming back here. Guidry might be dead, but the shadowy remnants of his dark spirit wrapped around him nonetheless, leaving him cold and decidedly uneasy.

…

…