It was requested that Wes comfort Deeks when Deeks has a bad day and I loved that idea so this is what came of it. I hope you enjoy it!
Warnings: If you see any warnings please tell me and I'll add them!
I hope you enjoy!
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Dropping his backpack onto the kitchen table Wes looked around trying to find some sign of life in the house. He knew that his dad was still at work and probably would be for the next few hours, but he had expected his papa to be there. As far as he could remember there was no reason for him to not be home and they had all gotten very good at telling each other if they were going to be out of the house at weird times.
Ever since Papa retired he was there when he got home from school. Okay, so he was there all the time. Shockingly enough it seemed that he didn't really have a lot of friends outside of the team. It wasn't until Uncle Sam had retired too that he started to leave the house to hang out with him. Even then he always either informed them that he wasn't going to be around before he left or sent a text if they were out of the house. It was a routine. Something that he actually really liked.
It always seemed to surprise people how much he liked routines. He didn't need to have everything planned out all the time and he didn't panic when things changed, but there were some things that had been happening for so long that when they didn't happen he got an unpleasant shock to his system.
Papa not being there after school was one of those things. It happened so often it had become a running joke in the family. All of it had started back when Izzy had first started to go to school. It was no secret to anyone that Papa wasn't around often when he was little. There were points in time when they didn't get to see him for weeks on end and even if they did see him it was more of a passing than anything else.
Not that it was his fault or anything like that. Neither Izzy or him were angry about the whole situation. Being an undercover agent was hard work and a lot of people counted on him to be there and to be focused on them and the case. The last thing he could be doing was answering calls from his children and risking peoples lives. That wasn't good for anyone.
Even with all of that pressure on him though there was one thing that he did his best to do for them. He always tried to pick them up from school. It didn't always work out that way and there were a lot of times when friends parents dropped them off instead, but if it was within his power Papa was there to get them when the school day ended.
Those car rides were some of his favorite memories. Even when he didn't have anything to say he knew that he had the mans undivided attention. Well, him and Izzy, but it had never felt like a competition. It was just them talking to their papa about anything and everything that came to their minds. It was awesome.
There were even days when Uncle Sam joined them on those rides. It wasn't often, but the handful of times it did happen were fun as well. It was always nice to be around their aunts and uncles. Even if that meant that they ignored the fact that they were probably working a case and the only reason they were getting a ride was because someone else was trying to figure out what the next step in the case was supposed to be.
At least that was what he and Izzy always figured happened. If he was honest they never had really asked a lot of questions about his work. They already had to see the damage that lingered on his body. The last thing either of them wanted was to know how it ended up there. Or how close he had gotten to not being there at all.
It had been on one of those trips that Uncle Sam had called their conversation a debrief. He hadn't really understood what that meant at the time, or the fact that the man had probably just misspoken, but he had thought it was cool so he started to call them that as well. Izzy and Papa had ended up following his lead.
After that it became a thing. Every time Papa picked them up from school he'd call for a debrief. As he got older though it turned from Papa picking them up to him picking up just Wes while Izzy hung out with her friends. Then it became him hanging out with friends and not getting a ride at all.. Unless he had plans with the older man the only time he picked him up was when the weather took a turn for the worse. Those car rides were rare now.
That didn't mean the debriefs stopped. They just changed a little. Instead of him being picked up they happened when he got home from wherever he had gone. They'd meet up at the kitchen table and while he set up what he needed to do that day for homework he'd tell Papa what happened that day that he wanted to get off his chest.
Something that he had really been looking forward to. It wasn't as if anything big had happened that day either. It had actually been fairly boring that day. Just like it had been every day for the last week. Not that he was complaining about the boring. Given everything that had happened he was really quite happy to have plain and normal. His head was already busy enough as it was.
What he wanted to talk about though was what was coming up. Saturday was going to be his second session with Dr. Palmer and he was spiraling a little. It was not something he liked feeling. He had thought about calling the whole thing off so many times that he had given himself a headache. He just didn't know what to do.
The last time he was there he had felt so raw and exposed. Like everything he had thought he knew about himself had been torn away and he couldn't even say why. And it was almost time for him to do it all over again with only a hope of him figuring out what was going on and fixing what the problem was? How was that not supposed to terrify him?
Both Papa and Dad had convinced him to give it another chance though. That didn't take away the fear that he felt. He was absolutely terrified about what the session was going to be like and all he wanted was for one of his parents to tell him that everything was going to be okay. That even if it was going to be a lot rougher before it got better, but it was going to get better and no matter what happened he wouldn't have to face it alone.
A part of him really regretted not telling Clary what was going on with him. It wasn't that he didn't want to tell her. She was his best friend. Of course he wanted to talk to her about everything and have her by his side as well. Every time he opened his mouth though all his words failed him. He couldn't even admit that something was wrong. That didn't mean that she didn't know.
She had asked him what was wrong as soon as she saw him. Clary could read him better than anyone. Luckily she also knew better than to push him when something was truly wrong. She had dropped the conversation as soon as he had shaken his head. That didn't mean that she had walked away.
All throughout the week she had spent as much time as she could by his side. She never asked what was wrong or shot him worried looks when she thought he wasn't looking. She was just there. Linking their arms together or leaning against him. It was like she was holding him up without even knowing what it was that was pulling him down. Just having her by his side and knowing she wasn't leaving made him feel a lot better. Even if he wasn't telling her what was going on.
At the moment though he wanted to talk to someone. Or he wanted someone to calm him down before he went off the deep end. He wasn't picky. He needed to be able to give the whole situation with Dr. Palmer a fair shot, but it wasn't easy given how horribly his first session went.
After the conversation he had with his parents he couldn't help wishing he had a fraction of the calm they had about the whole thing. Both of them seemed to have found rhythm that worked for them when it came to talking about things. Two vastly different rhythms, but they still knew what worked for them and he respected that.
He wasn't stupid though. The last thing he thought was that they had it all figured out. Both of them had admitted readily that they didn't know a lot of things. That they were still just living from one day to the next trying to thrive with the hands that they had been dealt. A thought that actually helped a lot more than he thought it would.
Wes knew that most people looked at their parents and thought they had the answers to everything. He had never thought that though. Yes, they were smart and knew more than him but they didn't know everything. No one did. Well, Auntie Hetty might but he still wasn't convinced she wasn't a cryptid so she didn't count.
The knowledge that there was always something new out there to learn, to experience, filled him with… something. He didn't know how to explain it even to himself. Ever since he was a kid all he ever wanted to do was to see how the world worked for other people. The easiest way for him to do that was telling and reading stories. The idea that out of the billions of people that lived no one ever 'solved' life was amazing to him.
Which made his hatred of therapy so much more confusing than it was. He would love learning about himself and seeing how the things he thought he knew could be seen differently in the eyes of his doctor. It was fascinating when he actually stopped to think about it.
It didn't feel that way though. It didn't feel like learning about himself or the human experience or anything like that. It felt as if he was laying out his entire soul piece by piece until there was nothing left of him at all. How can you possibly learn something about yourself if there was nothing left of you in the end?
He wasn't sure he was going to survive talking to her again. The first few hours after their session all he had wanted to do was lash out and hit something. An emotion that he was very much not used to. The last thing he would call himself was violent. He just wanted something to feel the pain he had been feeling. He didn't want to feel that ever again.
Wes couldn't help shaking slightly as he remembered how horrible he had felt. How unlike himself. That was one of his greatest fears. The idea that he could be unmade with just a handful of words was unreal. He had always thought that he was okay with who he was and that he knew himself well enough. That wasn't how it felt ever since he talked to the doctor. Everything felt wrong now. Like he wasn't right in his skin anymore.
A sigh fell from his lips as he pulled out his phone and started to scroll through his text messages. He still hadn't gotten one from Papa saying where he was or when he'd be home, but he did have a handful from Clary. Pacing in the kitchen he found himself wondering once more if he should just tell her what was going on. Even if he didn't have the right words to say how he felt he could tell her that something was wrong and that he needed time. It was better than being quiet.
Taking a deep breath he pulled up the messenger and stared at the last message she sent. It was something stupid about a tv show that they both watched. Completely unimportant and he loved her for it. She knew that he was having a hard time talking about what was bothering him and she just kept making sure that he knew she was there and wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. She was the best friend he could ask for.
And he couldn't even figure out the right way to say what was bothering him. He could even tell her that he was seeing a therapist. Something he knew she had done before. All he knew was that he didn't want to make her more worried than she already was and he knew that she was really worried. It came with the whole 'caring about someone' territory.
That didn't really make him feel better about the whole thing though. He had never gone this long without telling her what was going on with him. She was usually the first person that he wanted to talk to. It didn't make any sense that he just couldn't bring himself to do it this time around. Why couldn't he tell her what was going on?
Dropping the phone to the table Wes fought the urge to fall to the floor and just sit there until he found the words. It was as good a plan as any. How did you even start a conversation like that? Hey, I know I've been weird lately, but that's only because I feel like I've been unmade. Yeah, that would go over well.
Before he fell too far down the rabbit hole he heard the front door open and he felt himself relax. Papa was finally back from wherever he had been and they could have their debrief. Maybe the older man would even be able to calm him down. Or, at the very least, he'd be able to convince him to make pancakes for dinner.
"Papa," Wes started quickly making his way to the front door more than ready to talk, "I'm so glad you're… Dad?"
Wes felt his heart stutter at the sight of the older man facing the door his head leaning against the wood. The sight itself wasn't all that unfamiliar. After a hard case that really drained him Dad always ended up in that very position doing his best to leave the case at work so he could be with his family. He said it kept him from going crazy.
That was the only thing about the scene that looked similar though. The rest was just wrong. This wasn't him looking a little drained after a rough day. No, this was deeper. More raw. A lot more terrifying. It looked like he had been drained of everything. Like the only reason he wasn't on the ground was because of the door. He looked empty. Completely lifeless.
Feeling himself shaking slightly Wes continued forward slowly. The last thing he wanted to do was to shock the older man out of the state he was in, but he couldn't just leave him standing there. He was his dad. It didn't matter how scared he was at the moment. For the older man to be acting the way he was something really bad must have happened. He needed to focus on that.
Forcing all of his panic down he reached out placing a hand on the mans shoulder. He felt his dad tense painfully. It was almost like he was a snake ready to strike at its prey. He had no idea why that image had popped into his mind, but he couldn't deny it. A part of him even expected him to spin around and hit him.
Which was a completely ridiculous thought. The last thing either of his parents would do was raise a hand to him or any child. Given everything he knew about their childhoods them raising their voices was about as far as they'd let their tempers go and that was only when they were really, really worried or angry.
For a moment it felt as if everything was frozen. His dad felt like a statue under his hand. His mind started to race trying to figure out what he was supposed to do next when the older man turned his head to face him. It took all of his self-control to stop his mouth from falling open as shock shot through him.
He had seen his dad cry before. It didn't happen very often, but there were a handful of times that he could think of when all of his composer went out the window. That didn't make it any less terrifying when it did happen. It always just made it all the more clear that things were a lot worse than originally thought.
Seeing him crying like he was though… It felt different than all those times before. Maybe it was because he had no idea what had happened. Maybe it was because he looked as if he was about to fall over at any moment. Wes couldn't say for sure. All he knew was how scared he was and how he really wished his papa was home.
"Dad?" Wes signed trying his best not to show how scared he felt.
He wasn't sure what he was expecting to happen, but a broken sob falling from the mans lips as he dropped to the floor wasn't it. Feeling his eyes go wide Wes followed down so he was on his knees. He didn't even think as he reached out once more. This time though he stopped a few inches away not sure if he should touch him. He had read a psychology book that said in heightened states it wasn't always the best idea to touch.
Still there was nothing he could do when the older man had his eyes closed. He couldn't talk out loud to him and try to get him to calm down. He couldn't sign either. The only options he had were either touching him or walking away. One of which he had already dismissed. He was never going to walk away from his dad when he looked like he did.
With a deep breath Wes sat next to the older man moving close enough their arms were pressed together. Dad's body was shaking with every sob that escaped him as he pulled his legs to his chest and rested his head on them. What could have happened to make someone as strong as his dad look so broken?
There had to be a reason right? Something big must have happened. Maybe that was why Papa wasn't home. Something had happened to someone they cared about and it was bad. That was the only reason he could think of that the man would be crying the way he was.
He couldn't think about that though. Not while the other man was breaking down. Until he was able to calm his dad down why he was crying didn't matter it couldn't matter. The only thing he could focus on was trying to find something that would help the man out. He had to know something but how could he know something if he had never seen it happen before?
As soon as that thought crossed his mind Wes knew he was wrong. He had seen it once before. It was a vague memory that he had from when he was a child. It had happened so long ago. He had only been about six years old. He didn't have very many memories from that age, but he knew that he would never be able to forget what happened that night. No matter how hard he tried.
The thing that stuck out to him the most though was the build up. He wasn't sure how long it went on for, but there was a heaviness that had taken over the house before it all happened. The whole thing had terrified him, but feeling how closed off and quiet the house he had always felt welcomed and safe in was an experience he never wanted to feel again.
All of his life he had loved how free and open the house had been. It didn't matter if there was no sounds going on at all. That warmth didn't go away. Even when he felt as if there was nothing that could save him from the weight of the world he knew that being at home was safe. It was actually the first thing Clary had mentioned when they became friends. It was easy to see why Papa called his dad sunshine.
Nothing should have been able to pull the warmth from their home. That was exactly what happened though. He hadn't known what it meant at the time, but he knew it was because something was going on with Izzy. She had never been the most open person on the planet, but she had just been cold, almost cruel, to everyone and everything around her.
Then she was yelling at their dad. That was the first and only time he had seen that happen. He hadn't even known that was possible. The most he had ever heard was Dad raising his voice a little when he couldn't get their attention. Something that he and Izzy had always done their best not to do. His sister had always said that Dad already had enough to deal with.
Anyway, he had been taught a long time ago that talking things out was always the best thing to do. Even when the conversation got heated and all they wanted to do was scream and break something being calm and collected was always the best solution. Lashing out never really helped any situation. You couldn't yell and be understood.
That night though Izzy had yelled and he could still remember the look of heartbreak on the older mans face when Izzy said he wasn't her father. He had never seen that happen before and up until this moment he didn't think he was ever going to see it again. Than there was the fact that Izzy had been the one that put it there.
All of that had been terrifying and something that he'd never forget and then night came. All he had wanted to do was go down to the kitchen to grab some water. Normally he had a cup of water by his bed so he didn't have to get up, but given everything that happened that day his dad must have forgotten.
He hadn't thought it was a big deal at the time. It was just a little trip to the kitchen. He made it all the time by himself during the day. Anyway, he had just gotten a nightlight from Uncle Sam that he loved. It was a little duck that he had named Link. He still had Link actually. The duck sat on his bookshelf though he didn't lit up anymore.
So he had grabbed Link and started downstairs. He could remember getting to the kitchen before the fear set in. He couldn't be blamed for that. He was six and walking around his house at night. The fact that he had gotten that far before getting scared though was shocking. He did though. He got really scared and did the only thing he could do. Race to his dad.
That was when things went from bad to worse. As soon as he got to the door he heard a noise that made him freeze. He couldn't say he had heard it a lot before, but for some reason he had been able to figure out that it was crying. His dad was crying in his bedroom and that was the scariest thing he had ever heard. It still was the scariest thing he heard.
He hadn't known what to do when he heard the cries. Under any other circumstance he would have gone to Izzy but she was the reason he was crying. It wasn't like he could go to his papa or anyone else in his family. They were all busy doing their jobs. He couldn't talk to anyone and get them to help. Especially at night. He was on his own.
He was on his own again. Okay, so it was a little different than before, but he couldn't just run into the kitchen and grab his cell phone to get Papa to come home. That would be running away from his dad when he needed him the most. That was the last thing he would ever do. It didn't matter how scared he was. He would never runaway from his family.
With that thought in mind Wes moved around so he was sitting in front of his dad. His mind was racing trying to come up with something to do. After a moment he found himself shaking his head to push those thoughts away. He couldn't analyze and just come up with answers. He needed to actually do something.
Taking a steeling breath he reached out and tapped him on the side of his leg before waiting. It took a moment but Dad lifted his head so they were staring at each other. A sad smile came to his lips as he held out his hand and waited for the older man to take it. A part of him was sure that he was going to be brushed off, but slowly a hand linked with his.
A rush of relief crashed over him as he pulled his dad to his feet making sure to brace so they didn't fall back to the floor. Once they were both on their feet he let his eyes scan over the older man. He doubted that he was physically injured, but he still wanted to make sure that everything was okay as it could be.
"Dad," Wes started to sign before shaking his head, "What do you need from me?"
"Nothing," the older man replied his voice breaking painfully.
"Okay. Couch or bed?"
For a moment he was sure that Dad was just going to ignore him. He wouldn't have blamed him if he had just walked into his bedroom and shut the door. That might be the best thing for him to do to help get through what he was feeling. Until he did that though Wes wasn't going to walk away and leave him alone.
"Couch," the man finally muttered after a pregnant pause.
Nodding his head Wes lead the man to the couch and watched carefully as he sat down. Once again he felt himself panic. He hadn't thought that he was going to get that far. Standing there awkwardly he watched as his dad took off his shoes before laying down fully his eyes already glazing over. He looked completely out of it.
He continued to stand there awkwardly before he shook his head and started to look around the living room trying to figure out what to do next to help. He was already laying on the couch so that was already better than sitting on the ground, but there had to be something else that he could do to help him through whatever was going on.
The problem was he didn't know what was going on. Well, he knew that it was obviously his depression acting up, but that was all he got. Up until recently he hadn't even known that it was a thing that he dealt with. How was he supposed to know what to do to help if he had never been in the situation before at all?
Chewing on his bottom lip Wes reached out and grabbed the blanket from the back of the couch. The only thing he could come up with was treating the situation like Dad had a headache or a cold. It made the most amount of sense for the little information he had. It was better than doing nothing at least.
Tucking the blanket around the older man he found himself smiling slightly. He had gone through a phrase as a kid where he pretended to be a doctor. The thing he did to cure everything was tucking a blanket around the person and making a cup of tea for them. It seemed that was still the cure all that he went for when someone needed taking care of.
Once he had the blanket around the man he turned around and grabbed the tv remote. He knew that the older man wasn't going to be able to hear what was going on, and probably wasn't paying attention at all, but he knew that zoning out just watching the screen helped when he wanted to shut his brain off for a bit.
After making sure that the show wasn't one that really mattered in the long run he quickly made his way into the kitchen. The only thing left he had to do was make a cup of tea. There was a few different ones that he could think of that might help him feel better, but something told him that it didn't matter what the tea was.
As he waited for the water to warm up Wes found himself wondering how many times this had happened to the older man before and he had hidden what he was feeling. How was it possible that he could have hidden it? He looked terrible. Either Dad was really good at covering up how he felt or he was the most blind person on the planet. He wasn't sure which of them hurt less.
It didn't take long before he had a cup of tea in front of him and the only thing left to do was bring it back into the living room. Swallowing roughly he stared at his phone for a moment wondering if he should send a text to Papa letting him know what was going on. The man would get there as quickly as he could.
Shaking his head Wes quickly dismissed the thought once more. Papa would be home soon and right now he needed to focus on letting Dad know that he wasn't alone. That meant he had to get back out there soon. Grabbing the tea he made his way into the living room and placed it on the table looking down at the man hoping to see some recognition in his eyes. He looked just as lost as before.
Not knowing what else to do he moved to grab the blanket that was on the chair and sat on the floor in front of the couch and tucked himself in. There was nothing else for him to do but sit there and that it was enough. That was a feeling that he really truly hated, but he couldn't figure out anything else that might help.
Then he felt a hand rest on his shoulder. Looking back he saw Dad staring at the tv his eyes unfocused though he looked a lot calmer than he had before. Smiling softly he leaned back resting his cheek on the hand and letting his eyes slip shut. He still wasn't sure he had done the right thing, but at least he hadn't made it worse. That had to count for something.