Vengeance: Chapter 38

...

The sound of a dog barking cut through the crushing, fear filled flashback, slowing the spinning darkness holding him captive. He felt strong arms holding him up, half dragging him and he thought he should resist, but his strength was gone. The incessant barking caused him to focus and then the musky smell of hay and horses cleared away some of the fog as he felt himself being released. When his back hit the wall his mind began to come back to reality and he noticed he was sitting in a pile of hay in the corner of a stall and then a warm, wiggling dog climbed up on his chest and began licking his face.

"Boo," he whispered. "You're getting big."

Then he remembered. He remembered that it had been George's strong arms that had held him up when the panic attack had struck. George had caught him when he thought he would fall, ensnared by the dark memories and abject fear of loss that haunted him daily. The man he'd feared would reject him had offered his strength instead, had held him when he needed it most and that simple act gave him hope. He looked up as George pulled the young dog off of him, but then Sheila pressed her head against his chest and he wrapped his arms around the big mare's head as he shook off the last vestige of his panic.

"I'm so sorry, George," he choked out, afraid of what he might see in his eyes if he looked at him.

"What are you sorry for, son?" George asked gently, placing a rough hand on his shoulder.

"All of it," he answered.

"None of it was your fault, Marty," he said. "Don't take that on yourself like before."

Deeks noted a hint of anger in his voice and it made him look sharply at him, searching to see if it was directed at him as he had expected. He watched as George walked over to the half-door to the stall and leaned over it, staring out into the barn. He quickly pushed Sheila back and stood up, unsure what to say or what to do.

"Sheila looks good," he said hesitantly. "And Boo's sure grown."

"They missed you," George said.

"Are you okay, George?" Deeks asked.

"Hetty told me you've been having a lot of panic attacks," he said, ignoring the question.

"Yeah. I don't really remember much afterward," he said softly, turning back to throw an arm over Sheila's back and run his hand down her shiny neck. George was silent and it slightly unnerved him.

"I wasn't sure if I would be welcome here after everything that happened," he finally said, hating the awkwardness he was feeling.

"Why would you think that, son?" he asked.

"This place had become a haven for me, George," he said wistfully. "But I brought hell down on it and on you and your family and I'm not sure I can forgive myself for that."

"Bullshit," George snorted, turning to glare at him.

"I put all of you in danger, especially you," Deeks said, trying to make him understand.

"No. I let you down, son," George said, sadly shaking his head. "I shouldn't have let him take me. He used me to get to you and that's been hard to live with. Watching him beat you like that nearly killed me."

"He had four men with him, George," Deeks said gently. "I know you're tough, but you didn't stand a chance against that many armed men."

"When I finally got to you in that field, I thought you were dead," George said, his lip quivering slightly as he spoke. "Your face was covered in blood and your body was so cold you were almost blue. I didn't know what to do, son. I could hardly move I was so afraid I'd lost you. When Kensi told me you were alive I felt nothing but rage for the man who had done that to you."

"Callen told me what you did," Deeks said, still unable to close the space between them.

"Do you blame me for what I did to that sorry excuse for a human being?" George asked angrily. "Is that why you refused to see me in the hospital or even talk to me on the phone all these months? That bastard needed to be destroyed. He needed to be put down like the rabid dog he was."

George turned away from him and grabbed onto the top of the stall door and stood shaking until Deeks reached him and put his hand on his back, helping to ease the tension rippling through his muscles.

"No, George, I don't blame you," Deeks said softly. "But, killing a man changes you. I know how that feels and I hate that you had to do that because of me."

"I told that bastard you were my son and that I loved you and that you loved me like a father," George said slowly. "Is that true, Marty? Do you? Because if you don't, then nothing else matters. I'm not sorry we killed that sonofabitch. He deserved it, but if I've lost you because of it, I'm not sure how I'm going to deal with that."

"I thought you'd want nothing more to do with me after what you had to do," Deeks said quietly, his heart pounding as he spoke. "George, you're been more of a father to me than my real dad ever was. I'm sorry I shut you out. I didn't mean to hurt you, I just couldn't believe you would still care about me after seeing what I let Jürgen do to me."

"What the hell are you talking about, son?" George turned around to face him, confusion in his eyes.

"My dad always told me I was weak. He said it was one of the reasons he beat on me so much. He wanted to toughen me up. Thought I was a mama's boy, as he called it. And Jürgen...Jürgen told me fathers can't tolerate weakness in a son, so when I gave in to him..." Deeks' voice trailed off, his emotions becoming uncontrollable as he collapsed against the wall of the stall.

"And you believe that?" George asked, reaching out his hand to clutch Deeks' arm. "You think what you did was weakness?"

Deeks just looked at him, seeking what he needed, but unsure of what he would hear.

"My God, Marty, don't you think we knew what you were doing?" George asked roughly. "We knew you were trying to protect us from that bastard. It was the bravest thing I've ever seen."

Deeks dropped his head and closed his eyes, suddenly drained of all the anxiety that had been plaguing him. He rubbed his eyes and then looked up as George put his arm around him.

"I don't want to lose you, George," Deeks said quietly.

"And you never will," George replied. "We're family, remember?"

Deeks nodded silently.

"I wanted him dead, Marty," George whispered. "I wanted to make sure he could never hurt you again and I wanted him to suffer like he'd made you suffer."

"Killing isn't easy though," Deeks said. "It shakes you to the core, especially the first time. It's bothering you, isn't it?"

"Been having nightmares," George said, suddenly pushing away from the wall and walking over to stand next to Sheila, his hand absently stroking her shoulder.

"Remember what you told me when you found me in that hospital bathroom in Germany?" Deeks asked. "You said 'I'll be strong for you, if you'll be strong for me'."

Deeks walked up behind George and put both hands on his shoulders and he felt the old rancher tremble slightly and he felt another rush of emotion he wasn't sure he could control. He'd never seen George this vulnerable and he silently cursed himself for shutting him out all this time.

"I'll try to be strong for you now, George," he said. "I'm sorry it's taken me so long."

"Don't shut me out, son. I need you," he said as he leaned against the big horse.

"I'm here for you, George," Deeks said softly. "But I need you too. I was so sure you would reject me that I think I was just trying to protect myself from that. It would hurt too much and I can't take anymore hurt."

George turned around then and wrapped Deeks in a powerful hug that surprised him and then caused him to smile as he hugged the old rancher back with as much strength as he had. His eyes watered with tears and he clung once again to the man who had made such a difference in his life.

"God, George, you mean the world to me," Deeks managed to say before pulling back and dropping his head to his chest, wanting to tell the man what he was feeling, but finding it difficult.

"Something you want to say to me, son?" George asked kindly, seeing the struggle he was going through.

"I need to tell you a story about me and my dad." Deeks said huskily, but resolute.

"Okay, I'm listening."

"When I turned eight, my dad had been off the bottle for a while and decided to take me on a camping trip," Deeks began. "He'd never even talked about camping before, so I was surprised and pretty excited. My dad didn't take me places very often and it was just going to be the two of us, so I couldn't even sleep the night before."

Deeks stopped talking and wrapped his arms around Sheila's neck, taking a deep breath before going on.

"Anzo Borrego State Park." he said quietly. "I'll never forget that name. It was pretty desolate where we camped, but I didn't care cause I was with my dad, so I was bouncing around like a maniac, asking questions about everything and having a great time. I remember the two of us building a campfire together and he hugged me and I told him I loved him."

Deeks seemed to lose his voice at that point and George put a hand on his shoulder.

"You don't have to tell me this, Marty," George said.

"I need to. I need you to understand," he answered. "Just before sunset another couple came by and asked if they could camp by us and my dad said it was okay and we ended up having dinner together. Then the booze came out and everything changed. My dad was a mean drunk and I knew what was gonna happen, so I hid in the tent. He started arguing with the guy and then hit him, hard, real hard. The woman started screaming and I ran out to try and stop my dad before he hit her too, but he saw me coming and backhanded me and then started yelling at me. The woman managed to get the guy up and they took off. Then I was alone with my dad. He beat the shit out of me, George and then he left me there."

"Sonofabitch," George said softly.

"I've never told anybody this before, not even Kensi," Deeks said, looking embarrassed before he swallowed hard and continued. "When I came to, he was gone and I crawled into my sleeping bag until morning. I had no idea what to do or which way to go, so I just started walking, hoping to find somebody, anybody except my dad. I was scared to death, George. That afternoon a couple of hikers found me and took me to the ranger station. I still hate the desert and don't go there unless I'm forced to."

"What happened to your dad?" George asked.

"Nothing," he answered. "He must have talked his way out of it somehow. He was good at that."

Deeks turned to look at George, his face open and still.

"It was the last time I ever told my dad that I loved him," Deeks said softly. "The only other person I've ever said those words to is Kensi and now you. I love you like a father George, but I can never call you dad. That word is too hard for me to say to anyone else, because when I say it, I see him."

"I love you too, son," George said and nodded, his eyes misting as he smiled at him. "We have a special bond, me and you. We may not be related by blood, but there was a deep connection between us almost from the beginning and I don't want anything or anyone to break that. I don't care what you call me, Marty. It's not important, but please don't pull away from me again. I couldn't bear that."

Deeks nodded and smiled softly, feeling calm for the first time since getting on the plane to come to the ranch. George's strong hand gripped the back of his neck as they left the stall together and he suddenly felt lighter somehow. He found himself inhaling the smells around him, letting them bring back good memories of the first time he'd walked inside, wondering what a city boy like him was doing in a big old barn that smelled like leather, hay and horse poop. He glanced out the back door, but only briefly, not wanting to think about what had happened out there, but he shivered slightly anyway. Boo ran ahead of them, bumping into Joker, who playfully nipped at the big puppy as Stinker and Toby raced for the house.

"I was afraid this place had changed," he said quietly. "It had come to feel like home to me and I was worried Jürgen being here would spoil it."

"This old place was here long before that bastard ever set foot on it," George said roughly. "My ancestors homesteaded this land, and it's where Josie and I started our life together. It's my haven, too and I won't let that sick bastard run me off it."

Deeks let the matter rest, but he couldn't help but look back toward the barn before they went into the house, knowing he still had fears to face, fears he knew were waiting in that meadow behind the barn, the dark, unrelenting ones that inhabited his nightmares.

...

...

He slipped out silently after the fire had died down and the others had gone to bed. He had thrown a light jacket over his sweatshirt, knowing it would be chilly out, especially where he was going and he was already shivering just thinking about it. Boo had tried to follow him, but he'd ordered her to stay inside and she'd obeyed, but had whined nervously as he left, and he could hear her scratching at the door as he stepped off the porch. The wind came up as he started across the uneven ground toward the barn, the pale cast from the full moon lighting his way. He pulled the jacket tighter as a gust caught him and he felt a chill as it hit the sweat at the back of his neck, sending a shudder down between his shoulder blades and causing him to stop briefly and reconsider what he was doing. He had always known he was going to have to face his fears alone, but now that he was actually standing in front of the barn, he wondered if he was ready.

"Get your shit together, Deeks," he mumbled to himself as he mentally forced his feet to start moving again.

The soft light in the barn made him feel slightly warmer, even though the temperature wasn't much higher inside. He was pleased he hadn't had another panic attack just walking inside, but he knew it was still a possibility the closer he got to the meadow. He felt his hands shaking as he forced himself to walk through the barn, trying not to let the memories overcome him, but the deeper inside he got, the harder it became to keep moving. His heart started beating faster as soon as he stepped out the back door and after taking a couple of deep breaths to try and steady himself, he was suddenly in the middle of a flashback, not able to breathe at all and it rocked him.

"No, no, no, not now," he gasped, stumbling forward as the sound of the wind in the trees added to his full blown fear that Jürgen was somehow still here hunting him and laughing at his feeble attempts to catch his breath. He crashed into one of the massive cottonwoods and his panic attack blew up into a living nightmare. He pushed on in spite of the flashbacks, sure that Jürgen was behind him, sure that the others were dead and that no matter what he did, Jürgen would drag him to the ground and press all the air out of his lungs with those hated, possessive hands.

"Fuck you, Jürgen!"

He screamed it as loud as he could but the rising wind blew the words away and he shouted out more curses as tears stung his eyes. He staggered on toward the meadow, running now as the wild cry of some animal instantly transported him back to that dank cell and the horrors he couldn't seem to escape. He stumbled into the creek and gasped as the cold water hit him, waking him from his panicky state and leaving him shivering on the far bank.

"I won't let you take this place from me, you sonofabitch," he shouted as he crawled up to the barbed wire fence and began to force his way through it, not noticing as it tore at his hands. He ended up on his stomach on the other side, but fought his way to his feet as high yips and howls erupted from behind the tree line above him. He saw the blur of moving bodies and it made him focus, bringing him back to the here and now as the animals began to spread out in front of him, some shying away, but others snarling as he made his way up the slope. He berated himself for not bringing his gun as the coyotes moved and circled, always watching him with their pale yellow eyes.

"Go away," he shouted, but his words made no impact and the pack grew bolder as he made his way farther up into the center of the field. A blur of grey fur flashed by his leg and he felt the weight of the animal as it brushed against him. He put his hands out as if to warn the coyote off and saw they were bloody from the barbed wire and he felt the first flush of real fear that he might be in trouble. He slowly began to back away, but the pack moved with him, keeping the distance between them the same. He knew if he turned to run they would be on him, so he continued backing down the slope he had just fought so hard to reach.

The sound of a rifle fired from behind him made him jump and he heard a yip of pain as the echo reverberated down the valley. Several more shots sent the pack scurrying back into the trees, howling their warning cries as they scattered.

"Joe told me you were an idiot and now I believe him," Elan said as he stepped through the barbed wire fence before turning to hold the bottom strand down with his boot to make an opening for George and Jim Littleshield, who followed.

"What the hell were you thinking, son?" George asked, a bewildered look on his face as he walked up to him, assessing the state he was in. "You're soaking wet."

"Yeah. Took a header into the creek," he said, laughing as he tried to hide his hands behind his back.

Elan shook his head and grabbed his arm, pulling his left hand out from behind his back and shining a flashlight down on it. Some of the cuts were deep and bleeding and Elan handed the flashlight to his uncle and pulled out a handkerchief, calmly wrapping the makeshift bandage around Deeks' palm.

"You want to show me the other one?" Elan asked.

Deeks sheepishly held out his right hand and was amazed to see that it wasn't shaking. George took out his handkerchief and wiped off some of the blood before quickly wrapping it over the jagged cuts.

"Those coyotes could smell the blood, you know," Jim Littleshield said with a soft grin.

"I figured that," he answered.

"You came out here without your gun, didn't you?" Elan asked, shaking his head again. "That pack could have taken you down, you dumbass."

"You sound just like Joe," Deeks said, wincing at the pain as Elan tightened the bandage.

"Joe would kick your ass if he was here," Elan replied.

"Hell, Marty, I want to kick your ass myself," George said, but he didn't sound convincing, just worried.

"I have to face this by myself," Deeks said, pulling away from Elan's grip.

"No you don't," George said softly.

Deeks turned away from them then, walking back up the hill, trying to find a place to bury his fears. He thought they would let him be, but he was wrong, hearing their shuffling footsteps behind him as he walked the windswept meadow, searching for something he couldn't even name.

"Tell me what he said," Deeks said, shivering as the wind whipped around him.

"He asked if you were dead," George said, moving up behind him to drape his coat over Deeks' shoulders. "When I told him no, he looked angry and then real surprised when he saw I was gonna ride him down."

"This isn't your land, is it?" Deeks asked.

"No. This meadow belonged to my neighbors," George answered. "He had them killed."

Deeks ran his bandaged hand through his wild hair, shaking his head back and forth as his emotions raged. He started pacing then, growing more agitated as he sought answers he wasn't sure he would ever find.

"He's not here, Marty," Littleshield said gently. "The coyotes scattered his bones and ate what was left."

Deeks sat down on the ground then and crossed his arms over his knees, dropping his head down as remembered pain clawed at him. He fought to let go of the sense of worthlessness and defeat that Jürgen had tortured him with and to scatter all of his rage and hatred, as the coyotes had scattered that madman's bones. George knelt down next to him and he could feel the presence of the others as they stood close by and he felt protected. Warm tears sprang in his eyes when he realized how much comfort he felt just having the three men around him, proving their words that he was family to them. He began to breathe easier and started to look around at the ghostly hillside, his mind clear for the first time in so long.

Slowly the realization grew within him that he was proud he had been able to endure all of Jürgen's torture and pain. The bastard had hurt him badly, had almost killed him, but he had cheated Jürgen out of his one desire, to see him die under his hands. With the help of his newfound family he had survived everything and he was here now, alive, sitting on Jürgen's grave and that made him laugh out loud.

"You lose, asshole," he shouted out, startling the three men.

He heard George suck in his breath, but then he reached for him, helping him up off the ground and they stood facing each other as the wild cries of the coyotes echoed in the distance.

"You saved me," he said softly, looking at each man in turn.

"We beat him together, son," George said as he threw his arm around his shoulder and turned him toward home.

...