Healing
NCIS Los Angeles
A/N:
Hi! So, I used to write fanfictions all the time as a teen but stopped as school became more stressful and took up more time. It's been a LONG time, at least 6 years. But, I wanted to start fresh as I know my writing style has completely changed. I'm trying to write some original material, but I'm having a bit of writer's block on that side of things. So, I thought I'd try this again, see if it draws some inspiration out of me.
I've recently caught up with Seasons 10 and 11 of NCIS Los Angeles and I realised how good the show is and how dynamic the character relationships are. Season 4 of NCIS Los Angeles is one of my favourites and is probably one of the best in the franchise, rivalled by Seasons 2, 3 and 6 of NCIS (I'm old school, sorry)
Descent (4x24) and Ascension (5x01) contain some major character development points, but I feel like they could have gone further. I'm going to focus on Deeks and Kensi however others may be mentioned.
Time frame - Deeks and Kensi are married so this is set after the wedding but not set in the present day. I'll leave that up to you as I am not completely familiar with Season 10 and 11 yet having only seen them once through.
T.W. : PTSD, mention of torture scene in Descent, depression, anxiety.
Future triggers will be mentioned at the start of chapters.
- aw0rkinpr0gress (a work in progress)
...All I see is darkness.
I feel like I'm drowning in the ocean, my emotional reactions are the rapid currents, changing pace and fluidity at any given moment. Throwing me this way and that way, and I can't breathe. I can't scream. All I can feel is my heart pounding, trying to escape out of the clutches of my rib cage which is burning trying to keep it behind bars.
Then I feel nothing.
The numbness that comes with anti-anxiety medications is quite something. Mixed with a cocktail of antidepressants and damn, you just feel like you are floating. Over a bed. Of nails. Waiting for gravity to return at a second's notice, ready to send you free falling into the depths of despair, all of the emotions coming back at once with the sharp pricks reminding you that this so called utopia you've built in your head is just wishful thinking and that the real world is still there baby, better than ever, ready to cut you a new one when you least expect it. Whenever you think that maybe, just maybe you are getting over things.
But you never really get over it.
I mean, it's been 6 years. Almost to the day. I could say it's anniversary time and the trauma is leering its ugly head round the corner looking for flowers, chocolate and a dinner date. Well, sorry but I have plans. I have plans with my wife, who is now manifesting from a beautiful woman into someone I don't know. Something I don't know. Is that a horn? Who knows, everything is blurred and I just want to wake up with regular old Kensi sleeping next to me. Even her snoring and drooling would be better than whatever this mess of a nightmare is.
But it doesn't work like that.
I don't get to escape. They're occurring almost every night, the strange dreams. That's when I know it's getting bad again. I hope that no one else notices and that I can keep it to myself. With enough caffeine that should hide the sleep deprivation, right?
Opening my eyes, I know I need to get out of the house. I send a text for Kensi to wake up to so she knows exactly where I am before gathering my things and walking to the seafront. Although it's early morning, the May warmth is in the air. I take off my top, leaving it next to my shoes in the sand. I run towards the sea and get in, the cool water beneath my body like a blanket.
But then something changes. I feel trapped in the open water, like I've gone from swimming in the ocean to paddling in a kiddie pool. The currents change along with my moods - a wave of fear sweeping over me and pushing me off my board. I grip to the board for dear life as if it is the only lifeline I have before the shadow of a larger wave creeps up behind me. The ripple of anxiety turns into a cascading wall and swallows me whole. The drowning feeling comes back at once, the sea of emotions pushing me further below the surface. Then the familiar numbness returns, pushing me to the depths of the blue lagoon. I'm hoping that the depression spiral will swallow me whole. Anything to stop this.
Then, total darkness again...
Deeks woke with a start, struggling to catch his breath. Glancing at his wife, who began to stir, he sat up, downing the glass of water which sat by his bedside, the all familiar drowning feeling coming back again. Once his heart beat returned to a sensible rhythm, he let out a sigh. Relief or frustration, well that's yet to be determined. On one hand, he was relieved that he woke before he got to the really dark material. But frustrated that this was still happening, 6 years later. But he was also terrified. Terrified that the nightmares meant things were getting bad again.
Trying to control the tremor resonating through his body, he turned to get out of bed. His feet hitting the laminate floor grounded him, reminding him this was real life and right in this very moment he was safe. Standing shakily, he made it through to the kitchen and reached for his medications. It was a cocktail today, painkillers for the subtle yet nagging toothache he had been hiding somewhat successfully for the past few weeks. That wouldn't be getting fixed anytime soon, not in his current state. At present, the pain would have to be excruciating for him to even consider making an appointment. This had been a constant theme for 6 years since the incident with Sidarov. Also, the constant nag was probably contributing to his overall demeanour, a constant reminder of what he had been through. To be fair, Sidarov wasn't even the tip of the iceberg, but it was the factor that sunk the ship.
After the painkillers came the anti-anxiety meds which quite frankly were not doing much of anything at the moment. The panic attacks were coming thick and fast out of nowhere, the unpredictable nature causing additional stress as anything and everything was a trigger. It was exhausting - living in constant fear of the next wave of emotions. He knew it was getting bad again as the smallest things were irritating the life out of him and causing his anger levels to increase. But he never reached the limit of a verbal meltdown - he played it off with self-deprecating jokes and the odd beer or two.
And the cherries on the top of the drug sundae were the anti-depressants. Concerned about feeling too much or being overcome with so many emotions that you just lie there, for hours, days, weeks contemplating life and your place in it? Well they take that away, in fact they make you so numb that you can't even process your own emotion and instead it bottles up till night time, where the sleep paralysis demon stands in the corner of the room, rearing its ugly head at you. Funny, the sleep paralysis demon looks a lot like Sidarov with a drill and a gun.
But it isn't real. And that's what Deeks tells himself before swallowing the pills with a bottle of water. He gripped on to the counter, steadying himself before taking a deep breath and turning around. His eyes meet Kensi's, who has been standing at the door whilst he has contemplated the universe and everything in it.
She looks at him, lovingly but concerned. For a split second they don't say anything, but to Deeks that feels like a lifetime.
I don't want to hurt her. Play it cool.
But before he has the chance to say anything, Kensi speaks up, voice trembling. This time it is her heart pounding out of its chest. But she calms down and speaks clearly.
"It's getting bad again," she stated, "Isn't it?"
Thank you for reading! Please review and give feedback - much appreciated :)
As said, I haven't written in a while so I am a bit rusty. But reading it back I don't think its too bad for a 5 year hiatus. As said, I would love to hear some feedback on this so I can improve and continue themes throughout that you may find interesting.
