A/N: I think I was inspired by glenncoco4's recent story, The Bravest. Hopefully it's not too similar.

"Mom, can I ask you a question?" 15–year–old Caleb asked. They were on their way to a soccer practice and he'd been silent most of the way, which was uncommon, but not completely unusual.

"Of course," Kensi said, glancing over at him. His head was lowered so she couldn't see his face completely. He swiped at his dark blonde bangs, the movement quick and jerky. His hair was always flopping in his face, just like his father.

"What really happened to dad's father?" This question was asked softly, but with a conviction that made Kensi pause. He'd asked similar questions over the years when he noticed the lack of presence Gordon Brandel had in their lives. The first time, he'd simply asked why he only had one grandpa.

This time felt different.

"Caleb, what's going on?" He hesitated for a minute, fiddling with his shoes and then his hair before he finally whispered,

"I found this box at Grandma Deeks' house when I was looking for pictures for that school assignment." Caleb paused again as Kensi's heart suddenly began to race and then he looked at her, his eyes full of confusion.

"There were a bunch of papers. Like legal papers. And this file that said "Juvenile Record of Martin Deeks". I opened it up and…" he swallowed harshly and his voice dropped to a whisper. "Mom, it said he shot his dad. Is that true?"

Kensi's mouth felt incredibly dry and suddenly she wasn't sure if she could speak at all. They'd known this moment was coming at some point, she just hadn't expected it to happen like this.

"Did you read the whole file?" she finally asked. He shook his head quickly.

"No, I just saw that and I freaked. I shoved everything back in the box and told grandma I had a test to study for."

"There's a lot more to the story," Kensi said slowly, driving aimlessly now. Making a sudden decision, she signaled and pulled off to the side of the road. She texted Caleb's coach to tell him that he wouldn't be at practice and then turned to her son. "This is something we need to discuss with your dad."

His face fell.

"So it's true. How–what–how does that happen?" He sounded so confused it broke Kensi's heart. Awkwardly wrapping an arm around his broad shoulders, she gave him a hug and assured him,

"Your dad is a good man. One of the best men I have ever know and I promise when you know the whole story, it will make sense."

"But–"

"It's not my story to tell, honey."

She let them both calm down for a few more minutes before she turned the van around. She'd sent Deeks a text that they needed to talk about something important so he wouldn't be completely shocked.

It was hard to tell what Caleb was thinking; he could be just as boisterous and social as his father, but he also had a similar tendency to turn introspective. During those times, Kensi knew his actions, and thoughts, could be unpredictable.

"Hey, what's going on?" Deeks asked, when they walked through the door. He kissed Kensi distractedly, looking them both over for signs of injury.

"I found your juvenile record," Caleb answered, not beating around the bush. Kensi heard Deeks suck in a quick breath.

"Oh," he muttered, rubbing his hand over his mouth. "We should probably sit down."

Kensi and Deeks sat down on the couch, next to each other, automatically linking their hands. After a minute, Caleb sat next to them, but he kept his arms crossed.

"Dad, why did you shoot him?" Deeks sighed again and Kensi knew he was struggling to put words to a subject that still haunted him.

"Before I answer that question, you need to know a few other things. My dad he, uh, he wasn't a great person. He drank a lot and he was very angry. When I was about five or six, he started hitting me and your grandma. He'd flip out over something or they'd get in an argument and he'd hit us," Deeks explained, his eyes never leaving their son's.

His lips had parted in surprise when Deeks had mentioned the violence and he shook his head, putting up a hand to halt the story.

"That's domestic violence," he whispered.

"Yeah." The word was a little broken and Deeks drew in another shallow breath. Even after all these years, it was hard for him to talk about. Kensi leaned into his side, offering the contact as support. Deeks' body was rigid with tension.

"How bad did it get?" Kensi thought he knew. She though Caleb had put all the pieces together already, but much like his parents, he liked to have all the information. He wasn't content with half–stories.

Deeks pressed his lips together and nodded.

"Pretty bad. We ended up in the emergency several times and my arm got broken once. The violence increased over time and then one night, when I was 11, he got mad at your grandma over something. I don't even remember what. But he, uh, he started throwing things and hitting her and this time he didn't stop." Another breath.

"I ran into the room. I don't know what I was thinking I could do, but I jumped in front of grandma and dad hit me instead. He told me to get out of the way and when I didn't, he kept hitting me. Then he grabbed his shot gun."

"Oh my god," Caleb whispered. He face was stricken and reached out to take his father's other hand. Deeks squeezed it back, staring into space for a moment.

"Mom pushed me out of the way. She wasn't in good shape, but she was still trying to protect me. Dad started hitting her again, threatening to shoot us…so I ran upstairs. A friend of mine had given me a gun in case anything really bad happened and I, uh, I grabbed it and ran back downstairs."

Tears were running down all three of their cheeks at this point and Kensi gripped Deeks' hand so hard it must have hurt. She didn't know if he'd ever gone into this much detail with anyone. Certainly not with her.

"When he saw me with it, he shoved me away and aimed the shot gun at your grandma and I just shot him. I don't know how I even hit him since I'd never fired a gun before, but it hit him in the side.

"I don't remember all that much after that until the police came. One of the neighbors had called them," Deeks finished, watching Caleb's reaction. He'd stopped crying, but his cheeks were still wet and he scrubbed at them ineffectually.

"Did your dad die after you shot him," he asked. Kensi noticed that he didn't link himself with the man he'd never met, like he normally would.

"No. He recovered after a couple weeks in the hospital and then he was tried in court and went to prison." Caleb opened his mouth, but Deeks guessed his next question before he asked. "I never saw him again after that. All I know is that he was released from jail early and later died in a car accident."

Good," Caleb said fervently.

"Caleb!" Kensi reprimanded him sharply, even though she secretly agreed.

"What, I mean it." Caleb had that stubborn set to his face that was again indicative of his parentage. Deeks freed one of his hands and scrubbed it over his face, looking older and more tired than he had 10 minutes ago.

"Caleb, you don't want to think like that, believe me," he said. "Your gra–my dad was not a good man, but you never want to get into thinking that someone dying is a good thing."

Caleb rolled his eyes, but didn't contradict Deeks.

"So why didn't you tell me this before?" he asked. He sounded hurt and possibly bitter. "Every time I asked what happened to my other grandfather, you just said he died a long time ago. Even if you didn't want to tell me the whole story, you should have told me the truth."

Deeks glanced at Kensi again and she nodded for him to continue.

"We didn't tell you because it's a lot to handle. Even though you're nearly an adult, knowing my history is a big weight to put on another person. We didn't want to put that on you too soon," he said gently.

"I think that should have been my choice."

"Well, now that you know, what are you thinking?" Kensi asked gingerly. She couldn't tell what he was thinking and that worried her.

Caleb looked across the room, messing with his fingers as he thought. Eventually he shrugged and said,

"It makes a lot of sense," he said, speaking directly to Deeks. "Everything I've seen you do, everything you've told me and taught me all my life, it makes sense now. It explains a lot about you too."

"In a good or bad way?" Caleb seemed surprised by the question.

"I've always wanted to be just like you and now I have even more reason to want that."

"Is that why you were so upset when you found that file?" Kensi asked, suddenly coming to a realization. "You thought your dad wasn't the man you'd looked up to for so long."

Caleb shrugged again.

"I guess." He turned to Deeks again. "I'm sorry I ever doubted you, Dad."

"No worries, buddy," Deeks assured him as Caleb swiped at his nose again. He seemed close to crying again and Deeks wrapped his arm around his shoulders, pulling him close. "Come here."

Kensi wrapped her arms around both of them as Caleb buried his head in their shoulder the same way he had when he was a little boy.

"Thanks for always taking care of us, dad," he whispered hoarsely.

"Always," Deeks promised, looking over his head at Kensi. "Always."