Vengeance: Chapter 36
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Hetty had finally allowed him to come in a couple of days a week on limited desk duty and that's where she found him, sitting quietly, fiddling with a photograph. She spoke his name three times before he looked up at her and she could see the shimmer of tears in his eyes. He laid the photo down, but his hand covered it as she came closer and she smiled softly at him, knowing what the photo must mean to him and hoping it might be the breakthrough he needed.
"I see you found the picture of you and George," she said kindly. "We kept it on your desk after we thought we'd lost you. Nell had packed it away and found it yesterday when she was taking your things out of storage. It was a comfort to us to see you so happy."
"I've been so caught up in my own troubles that I forgot how hard it must have been on all of you," Deeks said quietly. "Kensi has shared some of what she went through, but I think she's holding back, afraid it might be too much for me to handle."
"None of us want to burden you more than you already are, Mr. Deeks," Hetty said kindly.
"I'm a pain in the ass, Hetty," he said bitterly.
"Some would say that's always been the case, Mr. Deeks," Hetty said, her eyes sparkling as she smirked at him.
He laughed at that, nodding in agreement as he ran his hand once again over the photo.
"Have you talked to him since I've been back?" he asked, staring at the picture.
"He calls me every other day asking about you," Hetty answered.
"Really?" The longing on his face and the vague hint of surprise in his voice gave her hope.
"Why does that surprise you, Mr. Deeks?" she asked. "His feelings for you haven't changed."
"How can that be true, Hetty?" He asked as he ran his hand through his long, unruly hair, uncut since his return.
She waited as a wave of emotion played out across his face. She could see he was struggling with his feelings, wanting to believe the man still cared for him, but unwilling to face the rejection he was so sure had to be there.
"He fought for you. He did what he had to do to free you from that bastard, Mr. Deeks," she said, her anger at him showing itself in spite of her attempt to control it. "You were the one who pushed him away when all he wanted to do was comfort you. You've hurt him badly, Marty and he doesn't deserve it."
Deeks looked stricken when she finished. He stood up quickly and had to steady himself as his emotions raged.
"He trampled a man to death because of me, Hetty," he choked out. "I know what it does to you to take a man's life no matter how much of a monster they are. It changes you."
"And you don't want him to change," she said knowingly.
He paused, trying to catch his breath and she waited, knowing there was more that he wanted and needed to say. She could see the torment her words had caused him, but she knew he needed to face what he had done and recognize that he could still fix things with George.
"How can he still want me as a son after what happened in that barn?" He whispered. "George is a strong man Hetty, or he wouldn't have been able to do what he did. He saw how weak I was in that barn. He saw what I let Jurgen do to me. Jürgen understood that a father can't accept weakness in a son. Mine couldn't. It's what he called me every time he beat the shit out of me."
"Why didn't you fight Jürgen in that barn, Mr. Deeks?" Hetty pushed.
"I couldn't," he stammered.
"Why?"
"I wasn't strong enough, Hetty," he answered dejectedly. "I couldn't help them."
"But, you did, Marty," she said calmly. "You knew what Jürgen was capable of and you knew he would torture and kill every single one of them if you didn't do what he wanted."
Deeks nodded slowly, his hands tangled in his hair as tears started in his eyes. He began to shake his head back and forth as the dark memories washed over him. Hetty saw Sam and Callen walk in and then Kensi, and she put her hand out to stop them from interrupting. They stood silently out of sight, listening as Hetty continued to talk.
"You sacrificed yourself so Jürgen would leave them alone, didn't you Mr. Deeks?" Her voice was soft and the cadence slow and mesmerizing and she saw him start to tremble.
"I surrendered, Hetty."
"You were trying to protect the people you loved," she said gently.
"He wanted me to tell George I didn't love him," he said, his voice choked with tears.
"What did you say?"
"No. I said no." He picked up the photo then and stared at it, rubbing his thumb across the image and then looking up at her as his tears fell.
"He was going to slit their throats," he whispered.
"And you couldn't let that happen," she said softly, reaching out to grip his arm.
"I wasn't worth their lives," he said as he rose from his chair, turning to leave, but stumbling back as he saw Callen and Sam. When he looked at Kensi, he saw she was crying and he seemed crushed by that.
"Not one of them thought that Deeks," Callen said firmly. "And they don't regret what they did."
"We should have fought harder for you, Marty," Kensi said through her tears. "We shouldn't have let him do that to you."
"Kensi, no. Please." Deeks moved toward her as she started to sob. "Don't say that."
He wrapped her in his arms and held her as she cried into his chest. He gently stroked her hair and tried to calm her, but her anguish was unrelenting and it was all he could do to keep her on her feet.
"As you can see, Mr. Deeks, you're not the only one still in pain over what happened that day," Hetty said.
"We're all trying to deal with what we let that man do to you, Deeks," Sam said.
"We made mistakes and it almost cost you your life," Callen said, his voice raw and rough as he struggled with his own feelings of guilt.
"But, you came for me in South Africa," Deeks said. "You saved my life."
"And then we let him get to you again, Deeks," Callen said loudly, his eyes stormy with anger. "Doesn't that piss you off?"
"I don't blame any of you," he said numbly. "I knew he would come and I should have left the ranch."
"And go where?" Sam demanded in exasperation. "He was already on his way there, Deeks and you know what he would have done to your family if you hadn't been there."
"You saved their lives, Mr. Deeks," Hetty said. "What you see as weakness, your family saw as strength and as incredibly brave. We all do."
"You're being too hard on yourself again," Sam said. "Don't do this, Deeks. Don't push your friends and family away. You did the only thing you could to give them a chance to survive. He gave you no choice."
"He's dead, Mr. Deeks," Hetty said softly. "You're the one who's still alive, so live, Mr. Deeks. Live."
Deeks nodded silently and began to brush Kensi's hair out of her face and wipe her tears away with his thumbs, smiling softly at her as she slowly gained control of herself. When she smiled back, he let her go and went back to his desk and picked up the photograph and put it in his pocket.
"I never really thanked you all for coming to find me," he said quietly, looking at each one in turn. "Thank you."
He kept his head down as he walked toward the door and only paused when Hetty spoke.
"Call him, Mr. Deeks," Hetty said quietly. "He's waiting."
He nodded solemnly before walking out, leaving them all wondering if they had gotten through to him at all.
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Kensi found him sleeping on her couch when she got home, and even though she knew he would be there, the sight of him never failed to comfort her. He fell asleep so easily now, although it never lasted long, his nightmares coming two or three times a night. He seemed exhausted most of the time and she didn't know if it was because he was fighting so hard to distance himself from his memories or because his wounds hadn't quite healed, thinking it was probably both. He never wanted to talk about the pain, although she was convinced he still suffered from the terrible beatings he'd endured and he continued to have trouble staying on his feet for any length of time. He had started going to physical therapy with Diane Atwood and it seemed to be helping, but she thought the company had something to do with that. Diane was so kind and easy going and she never pushed him to talk about anything too deep, preferring to let him relax completely during their time together. He always seemed happier when he got back from a session with her, calling himself Uncle Marty, talking about the coming baby and leading to some of the old banter they used to enjoy.
She knew today had been hard on him and silently chastised herself for breaking down, sorry she had burdened him with her own guilt about that horrific day. She sat down next to him and couldn't stop herself from running her hands up into the hair on the back of his neck. She felt him stir under her hand and she pulled it away, not wanting to wake him, but she hadn't been able to keep her hands off of him since he'd been home. She'd thought she had lost him, that he was gone from her life forever, so the need to touch him, to make sure he was really here, back in her life, was something she just couldn't help doing.
"That felt nice," he mumbled against the sofa pillow.
"Just didn't want you drooling all over my pillow," she said lightly as he turned slowly over onto his back.
He punched the pillow up under his head and stared up at her, a slight smile turning up the corners of his mouth. He looked like his old self and she wondered if today's conversation had helped him come to terms with at least some of the things bothering him.
"I tend to drool whenever you're this close to me," he said with a small, crooked grin.
His face grew serious as his hand moved up her thigh, his eyes following its progress. He glanced quickly at her, his eyes a smoky blue-gray color as his hand slipped up under her shirt and rested lightly on her ribs. They hadn't made love very often since he'd come back to LA and his sensitive touch now took her breath away. She waited, trembling slightly with anticipation, wanting him so badly but afraid to rush him. He must have sensed that, and smiled gently as his hands moved up toward her breasts. She leaned down and kissed him softly on the mouth, her fingers entangling themselves in his tousled hair, pulling him closer as he responded, his lips moving over hers with a sense of urgency and need. She sat back and looked down at him and slowly began to unbutton her shirt, a seductive smile spreading across her face as she watched his eyes grow darker. He pushed the shirt off of her shoulders and down behind her, his eyes roaming over her body as his fingers brushed the tops of her breasts. She reached back and quickly released her bra, letting it fall so his hands could caress her. She had missed his touch and closed her eyes as his thumbs brushed back and forth across her nipples until she was quivering with excitement, but then he dropped his hands to her thighs and she looked quickly at him, worried that something was wrong, but he was smiling at her.
"I need more room to properly explore your amazingly beautiful body," he said, a smile lighting up his face.
She stood and pulled him up until he was standing so close to her she could feel his breath warm her face. He gently slid his hands lightly up her arms and into her hair. He stepped even closer and nuzzled beneath her ear, his soft lips sending ripples of pleasure all along her spine, causing her body to pulse with excitement. She wanted him to set the pace he was comfortable with, but her need for him was crying out silently inside and she began to breathe heavily as he continued to lay kisses along the top of her shoulder as his hand fondled her bare breast and hers ran slowly over the taut muscles of his back.
"God, Marty," she whispered.
He stepped slightly back from her and his eyes held such deep emotion that her breath caught and she held it, waiting to see what he would say. When he didn't speak, she took his hand and led him through to the bedroom. As they reached the bed, he came up close behind her and wrapped his arms around her body, taking her warm breasts in his hands and softly kissing the base of her neck. Her body melted into his chest as his right hand moved slowly down to the top of her jeans and began to unzip them. His fingers searched lower and lower until she quivered with want and began to pant as they slipped into the wetness he had caused. She began to move against him then and she could hear his breathing quicken as her own voice moaned low and urgently as his fingers moved within her. He slowly pulled her down onto the bed and curled his body around her, his fingers constantly moving, sending her almost over the edge. Suddenly he stood and stripped off her remaining clothes and started on his own, but she smiled and reached for him, pulling him back down beside her so she could unbutton his shirt slowly. The look on his face let her know he would indulge her need to slowly reveal what she so obviously desired and a smile softened his features as he watched her work her way down. She opened his shirt and saw the pale, ghosted marks from the beating he had suffered and she felt tears sting her eyes and a small whimper escaped. He shushed her and quickly closed the space between them, pressing his body into her and holding her as she shuddered at the memories.
"I hated myself so much that day," she said against his chest.
"Don't say that." His voice was deep and she felt his heart beating widely in his chest.
"It's the truth," she said, leaning back so she could look in his eyes.
"I'm sorry," he said and kissed her gently. "I couldn't stand the thought of him touching you. I would have done anything to prevent that."
"But I had to watch what he did to you and I couldn't do anything about it and it nearly killed me," she was crying by the time she finished. "Do you know what that did to me? All I could do was scream for him to stop, but he wouldn't."
"I know, Kens, and I'm so sorry I hurt you," he said as his arms tightened around her.
"You didn't, Marty, he did," she said. "Don't make it your fault."
She brought her hands up and stroked his cheek, kissing him deeply, before pushing him down on his back and curling up against his chest. They held each other until she felt him tense and she rose up on her elbow to look down at him.
"What?" she asked, watching him closely as his eyes became distant.
"It's like I have a war going on inside my head," he said quietly. "I knew I had to let him take me. I knew it was my only choice, but I was afraid, Kens. I knew what he was going to do and I was terrified. It took all I had to walk in that barn, to see him again, knowing he was going to touch me again, knowing exactly what he was going to do. He was going to kill me, Kens and I was resigned to that. I was ready to let him do whatever sick thing he wanted if it meant all of you might survive. I had to believe you would. But, I still hear his voice taunting me and it sounds just like my own father, Kens, laughing at me and calling me worthless and weak and I can't get either one of their voices out of my head."
She took his right hand in hers and brought it to her lips, kissing his fingers as he watched her, his eyes bright with tears. He covered his eyes with his arm and she could feel him shaking as he fought for control, all thoughts of making love gone from both of their minds.
"Kens, did your father always forgive you if you messed up?" His question caught her off guard and she hesitated before answering. He sounded like a little boy and she took his arm away from his eyes, making him look at her when she answered.
"If I got into trouble or disobeyed him, there were always consequences," she began softly. "My Dad was big on discipline and I would get a little wild sometimes."
"Always the badass, yeah?" he said quietly.
"I could make my Dad pretty angry," she said. "But his anger never lasted long. Once I apologized he would hug me and forget about it. He never held a grudge."
"You were lucky, Kens," Deeks said. "I have no concept of a father like that. If I screwed up, which according to him was all the time, my Dad never let me forget it."
"Is that why you assume George will reject you?" she asked. "You think he blames you for what happened?"
He sat up on the edge of the bed and ran his fingers through his hair and down his face and then got up and walked back into the living room. Kensi quickly pulled on some sweats and followed him out, finding him standing in the kitchen, staring out the window.
"Jürgen made me doubt him, Kens," he said sadly. "I don't know why I believed anything he said, but he beat it in to me just like my Dad used to do. I told him George was a good man and it made him so angry that he started hitting me over and over, trying to make me take it back. He wanted me to hate him, Kens. I don't know why it was so important to him, but he wanted me to doubt that George could really love me."
"Do you doubt that he ever loved you, Deeks?" she asked, pulling him around to face her. "Because I don't. I could see it on his face every time he talked about you."
"He had to kill a man because of me, Kens," Deeks said, his voice breaking as his hands formed into tight fists. "A man I brought there. How can I look him in the eye after that?"
"He didn't have to kill him, Deeks," Kensi said softly. "He made that decision after watching what Jürgen did to you. He couldn't let him go. He wanted him dead and he wanted him to suffer."
Deeks stared at her for the longest time before saying anything and then it was heartbreaking.
"He must be sorry he ever met me," he said, not bothering to stop the tears that fell slowly down his cheeks.
"Don't say that," she pleaded, seeing the anguish all over his face. She took him in her arms as he began to shake, finally sliding down to the floor together. He buried his head in her shoulder, moaning softly as she held him.
"I love him, Kens," he whispered. "He's the kind of dad I fantasized about having after my father went to prison."
"You need to talk to him, Marty," she said, her hands moving in slow circles over his back.
"I don't know if I can face him, Kens," he said, finally pulling away from her and leaning back against the cabinets, staring out into space.
"You're assuming he's going to reject you, aren't you," she said and when he nodded, she shook her head. "Why do you think he blames you?"
"I don't know," he answered, turning to her with a lost look on his face.
"You know better than to make assumptions about people, Deeks," she said firmly. "You have to give him a chance. Doesn't he deserve that much from you?"
He looked at her for the longest time before nodding slowly. He reached out for her then and touched her cheek, pulling her into a gentle hug and she settled against his chest, listening to his softly beating heart as they held each other.
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