So this is a little introspective…thing. Written before another, less hideous in-service.


NCIS found Marty Deeks at a pretty low point in his life. For the past couple of years he'd worked mostly undercover, mainly playing unsavory types like Max Gentry and Jason Wyler. No matter how much pride he took in his work, in his abilities, it took a toll on a person's psyche.

It took effort to be a terribly person, particularly when you'd spent most of your life suppressing that part of yourself. Ridding himself of that persona, especially after a couple months or more, was even harder.

Wyler wasn't even that bad comparatively. And to some degree that made it even worse. He didn't loathe being him day in and day out and even found himself thinking as Jason would instead of Marty Deeks.

So yeah, to say that he was in a fairly dark and unpleasant place when Callen and his merry band of misfits traipsed in wasn't an exaggeration.

He was bitter and sarcastic to the extreme, immediately resenting the fancy agents, flaunting their resources and titles.

Maybe he was a little jealous. Having partners, supportive ones at that, was a foreign concept. The Office of Special Projects clearly didn't know what it was like to have your partner, who hated you from the start, shove a gun between your teeth. They didn't know the terrible isolation and fear that came with solo undercover work.

Deeks told himself he'd stay aloof and that he didn't need anyone. But in the end, he did. And there was a tiny part of him that longed for the companionship that Callen, Sam and Kensi so clearly had. Maybe that was why he signed Hetty's papers despite knowing that no one on the team, besides possibly the minute leader sitting next to him, had an ounce of respect for him.

And just like that, Marty Deeks' life became a little less dark and terrible.