CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

Deeks whistled quietly to himself as he walked up the front path to the house, juggling his two grocery bags into one hand so that he could get his keys out of his pocket and unlock the door. The unfamiliar key on his bunch turned easily and he walked inside, pushing the door closed behind him with his foot. Only a few steps into the hallway, he heard a noise that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He wasn't in any way prepared for a dangerous encounter, and as he heard the familiar click of the safety on a gun being removed he dropped the grocery bags and turned towards the noise with his hands raised in a gesture of peace.

"Look, I don't know who you are and all, but I'm just delivering some food for my Nanna here…" He spoke with a cheerful air he didn't wholly feel. "She's not been doing so good recently and so I…"

"Deeks?!" Callen stepped carefully out from behind the kitchen door, the gun in his left hand still pointed in the intruder's direction. He slowly lowered it as he realised incredulously it was indeed Deeks standing down the hall from him, hands and eyebrows both raised. It wasn't clear who was more surprised by the encounter.

"Callen?! Is that really you? We thought…" Deeks trailed off when he saw Callen, for once at a total loss for words.

"It's okay," Callen turned to speak reassuringly over his shoulder to Nick and Peter who had been hiding wide-eyed in the corner of the kitchen ready to run again. "You remember Detective Deeks?"

"Hi," Deeks said brightly, attempting to conceal his confusion as he stepped into the kitchen and extended his hand past Callen to Nick. "Sorry if I scared you." He turned back to Callen. "What the hell, I mean how… what are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same question."

"Hetty sent me."

"Hetty sent you?" Callen echoed.

"That's what I said."

"Hetty sent you here? To her beach house? With food? Today?"

"Pretty much," Deeks grinned. It was unusual to see Callen on the back foot.

"How on earth did she…" Callen paused. "You know what. Never mind…. Nanna?" he winked.

"Yeah, well, you caught me off guard okay? She didn't tell me anyone was going to be here, much less pointing a gun at me."

"Sorry about that."

"So…" Deeks looked accusingly at Callen for a moment. "We thought you were dead… You wanna share?" Deeks looked the three of them up and down, taking in for the first time the dishevelled, still damp state of them all, the signs of strain around their eyes and the general fatigue they all showed.

"Nick…" Callen took a breath. "Why don't you take Peter upstairs… there's a bathroom, couple of bedrooms. Have a shower, clean up. There'll be some clothes, help yourself. Get some rest if you can, okay? It's safe here."

Nick nodded, and he picked up his still-steaming mug of tea along with Peter's too as the two of them silently left the kitchen. Callen re-took his seat at the table, carefully keeping his right hand in his lap out of sight. His left hand shook slightly as he picked up his own mug.

"You look like you need the same care yourself," Deeks said lightly, though a trace of concern could be heard in his voice. "Why was the gun in your left hand, and why are you limping?"

"What do you know?" Callen enquired. Of all people, Deeks was the last he'd have expected to have seen, but there again… Hetty worked in mysterious ways.

"Enough… I think." Deeks paused. With a grimace he added, "I saw the video."

"Then you know Janvier is playing games again. He doesn't want to make a deal, at least not with NCIS. That was all a ruse to buy him some time and throw Sam and the others off…"

"Eric was able to trace the video back to the ship eventually. It appears you've beaten us to it, but there was a rescue mission in progress…" Callen's head snapped up suddenly at Deeks' words, his eyes wide with concern.

"That was a trap… Janvier's men left the boat ready to blow… It triggered this morning! Tell me it wasn't Sam, for God's sake!"

"It's all okay," Deeks quickly reassured him. "I heard the blast… I've literally just spoken to Kensi. One of the React team got too close, seems like he triggered some sort of motion detector. From our team, only Sam was anywhere near, and don't panic, he was underwater and totally shielded from it. Apart from the one React guy, everyone made it out okay."

"Not everyone," Callen said sadly.

"What do you mean?"

"Joelle… she was on the boat. Working with Janvier…" Deeks looked horrified as Callen continued. "She wasn't really. He had her family." Comprehension crossed Deeks' face: he had been wondering how Nick and Peter fit into it all. "She's the reason I got caught," Callen continued. "But only because she wanted me on the boat with her, to help her rescue them."

"She's not still with Janvier, is she?" Deeks looked worried.

"In a manner of speaking…" Callen paused, but the uncomfortable truth had to be told. "He shot her."

As the heavy silence lengthened, Deeks understood, and squirmed uncomfortably.

"Sonofa…" Deeks swore. "I'm sorry, man. Are you okay?" Deeks shook his head to himself. "Stupid question. I'm sorry."

"It's not me I'm worried about," Callen sighed. "We need to keep them safe." He jerked his head upstairs, indicating Nick and Peter.

"I'm guessing that's why you came here, but why haven't you contacted Sam, or Ops…?"

"No phone here… It was next on my to do list." Callen didn't know how he could explain to Deeks how exhausted he felt, how little reserve he had left. Once he'd heard the ship explode, the urgency of contacting anyone to warn them had drained out of him like water down a plughole, and getting Nick and Peter to safety had all but finished him off.

"And somehow Hetty, in some mysterious all-knowing, Hetty-like way, knew you'd come here, and sent me along to welcome you all…"

"I guess." Callen was unable to raise anything more by way of response, and Deeks again felt concerned.

"How badly are you injured?"

"I'll live…"

"That is not quite what I asked."

"Yeah, well. Can you go to the drugstore for me? I need a couple of bandages, and some Tylenol."

"You need a doctor," Deeks muttered. He nodded his head when Callen glared at him. "Okay, okay. I passed one on my way here, I'll be back in ten. Stay safe, okay?"


Outside the house, Deeks took a moment to gather himself, turning to lean back against the front door he'd just locked and breathing in deeply. What a morning. He hadn't been able to fathom earlier why Hetty had sent him on this bizarre 'comfort mission' as she put it, instead of going with the others on the tactical assault. And he'd been furious when he'd heard the explosion off the nearby coast and made contact with Kensi to find out what had happened – she had been in danger, and he had not been there to help.

But now he understood, at least a little bit.

Suddenly he realised that Kensi and the others would still be fearing Callen had been on the ship when it blew, and he reached into his pocket for his mobile phone. His fingers hovered hesitantly over the screen. Should he tell them? He ought to tell them. They'd be relieved to know Callen was safe. But the wrath of Sam… Deeks grimaced. He hadn't been around Ops much recently, but in the few hours he had spent there yesterday afternoon, it would have been obvious even to a stranger that Sam was not handling Callen's disappearance well. Sam was intimidating enough on a good day: strung tight the way he was right now he was downright scary, even on the phone.

And then there was Callen. Surely he wouldn't mind the others being updated? He wasn't as close to them all as he used to be, but they were still his team… Deeks knew Callen was holding out on him how badly he was injured, but Sam was by far the most experienced, second only to Hetty, in dealing with the closed-off team leader when it came to personal issues, and hell, it would all come out eventually. Callen couldn't hide from them forever. He recalled how he had left Callen sitting so weakly at the table, barely having the strength to pick up his mug of tea. Callen needed help, and Sam was probably the best person to give it to him.

Indecisively, but ultimately deciding to just get it over with, Deeks pressed the buttons to call. Kensi picked up on the first ring.

"Everything okay?" she asked, and he could hear the strain still in her voice.

"Better than you might think," he said reassuringly. "It's a long story, but I'm with Callen now, well, sort of. He's inside Hetty's beach house…"

"Hang on a minute Deeks," Kensi interrupted incredulously. "Let me put you on speaker, say that again?"

"I'm at Hetty's beach house with Callen," Deeks repeated succinctly. In the background, he heard Sam testily exclaim, "You're WHAT?" and Deeks shrank away from the phone slightly.

"Calm down…" Deeks began, but Sam, closer to the phone now, interrupted him.

"Is he okay? How did he get there? Is he hurt? What did Janvier do with him?"

"Maybe it's best if he tells you himself," Deeks said uncomfortably. "You're not all that far from us." Giving Sam the address, Deeks rang off and hurried on his errand, relieved that he wouldn't have to deal with an injured Callen on his own for much longer.


When Deeks returned, he found Nick sitting with Callen in the kitchen. Nick looked marginally refreshed, having clearly taken Callen's advice to have a shower and put on some clean and dry clothes, but Callen looked if anything even worse than he had quarter of an hour ago. His clothes were still damp, and he was shivering but trying to hide it.

"Peter's asleep," Nick explained. "He's exhausted. I came back down to see if Callen needed a hand…" He blushed, stumbling awkwardly over his words, but valiantly continuing. "If he… needed some help, getting changed…." His voice drifted off and Deeks had to hold back a snort. The day Callen accepted help from anyone, especially someone he barely knew, would be the day hell froze over.

"I'll take care of it," Deeks said. "You look like you could use some sleep yourself." He spoke lightly, but all three men understood the implication: go away, Deeks would deal with Callen in private.

"You're not wrong there," Nick agreed, clearly thankful for the excuse to leave. The two agents heard him climb the stairs, and quietly shut the door to one of the bedrooms. Silence echoed around the pretty kitchen, but eventually Deeks spoke.

"So, Hetty's got a new beach house, huh?"

It wasn't what Callen had been expecting him to say, and he paused a moment, but in the end his only reply was a short "Yeah."

"Beats me how even though she's retired, she's still got a better handle on what's going on than most anyone else," Deeks muttered.

"I guess she knew I'd try to get here, if I could," Callen explained tiredly.

"But how did you… D'you know what. Never mind. I'm not sure I want to be privy to whatever secret ninja mind-reading skills you and Hetty seem to share." Deeks could see Callen was flagging badly, and he wasn't at all sure how to make his next move. It was blindingly clear Callen needed some proper medical attention. But even in his exhausted state, the 'touch me not' vibe was strong. Deeks wasn't convinced he was the right person to try to get past it, but he knew at the very least, Callen needed to get into some dry clothes. He was still internally debating with himself on the best course of action when to his surprise Callen spoke.

"You got any painkillers in that bag?"

"Yeah," Deeks said, rummaging with relief. "Tylenol, most of the contents of the first aid shelf, oh, and these…" With a flourish he pulled a fistful of tootsie-pops out of the bag, handing them to Callen like a bouquet of brightly coloured spring flowers.

"You know?" Callen's eyes momentarily brightened as he reached out for the candy.

"I'm a detective. Detecting is what I do…" Deeks joked. "Your favourite flavour is blackcurrant, I believe, which I thought was an odd choice for…"

"I like how it stains your tongue purple," Callen interjected before Deeks could go off on one of his tangents, and this time it was Deeks' turn to raise his eyebrows. "What? You never liked that as a kid?" Exhausted though he was, there was a glimpse of amusement in Callen's eyes as he baited the detective. "I guess there are some things you can't… detect…"

With a weak smile, Deeks rallied to try and get the upper hand again in this bizarre conversation.

"I know Sam used to buy them for you all the time… Stake-out staple, aren't they?"

"Something like that." Callen's eyes darkened as he was reminded how it had been some time since Sam had indulged him in his tootsie-pop habit. He left them on the table, realising he couldn't open them with his injured hand anyway.

Deeks noticed the change in Callen's demeanour, but he wasn't experienced enough in reading the taciturn agent to understand why. Continuing to pull items out of the bag, he placed a packet of Tylenol in front of Callen, and got up to fill a glass of water for him to take them with.

"You'd better eat something too," he said, pushing the tin of biscuits that were still on the table in Callen's direction. Callen nodded, awkwardly using his left hand to push two of the pills out of the packet. He swallowed them gratefully with the water. Deeks watched, finally putting the pieces together. "You can't use your right hand at all, can you? And judging by the growing bloodstain that's evident even despite the dampness of your jeans, you've got a wound still bleeding somewhere on your left thigh." Callen's silence was ominous, Deeks thought. Looking closely at him again, Deeks decided Callen really didn't look too good at all, and he started to feel a deeper twist of concern rolling in his stomach. "Look, err, is Tylenol really going to be enough? No offence man, but you look like shit."

"None taken," Callen said quietly, doing his best to raise a ghost of a smile. "I feel like shit too."

Raiding hard through his memories, Deeks thought it was probably the first time Callen had answered any probe into his health with anything other than his stock answer 'I'm good', and Deeks didn't find it particularly comforting.

"Let me at least help you into some dry clothes, and patch up whatever is bleeding, before we have Hetty on our case for staining her décor." Deeks aimed for some lightness, hoping it was the best way to get Callen to comply. With a sigh, Callen nodded, and made to get up, nodding at Deeks to bring the bag of medical supplies with him. He made it slowly to his feet and swayed alarmingly, feeling Deeks grasp him with both hands to keep him from falling. "Whoa!" he heard Deeks exclaim, the concerned voice reverberating and echoey as if from a few rooms away, not right next to him. Instinctively Callen reached out with his right hand to place it on the table in order to steady himself, and moving his damaged extremity caused such an intense burst of pain that it broke through his light-headedness, bringing him back to full consciousness in an instant. He sucked in a sharp breath and his vision cleared to see Deeks staring at him with unconcealed worry rife in his face.

"You need a hospital!" Deeks kept a firm hold of his upper left arm.

"I'm fine… stood up too quick, that's all. I'm fine," Callen lied.

"But… your hand…" Deeks stuttered, visibly shaken, and Callen glanced down to where he realised he was cradling his mangled right hand in full view across his chest.

"Can't risk it," Callen said with a firmer grip on things. "Janvier… he'll be monitoring the hospitals for news of Nick and Peter. We need…" he paused, willing himself to stay in control, "We need to stay off the radar. Nothing official… If he can't contact his men… I killed one of them… don't know about the other… he might think I was blown up on the boat… He'll come looking… he wanted me still alive..."

There was a lot Deeks didn't understand from the disjointed speech, but he did understand it was essential for Janvier to believe Callen and the others were no longer alive in order to prevent him from trying to find them, and that meant no official channels – no cops or hospitals, no outside agencies, just the team he knew they could trust. "Okay…" he agreed with a sigh. He loosened his grip on Callen's arm, and to his relief the older man stood firm, if slightly wearily. "No hospitals for now. But Callen, you can't leave that, not if you want any chance of it healing properly."

"You brought some bandages?" Callen looked questioningly towards the bag, which Deeks had dropped on the floor when he had reached out to grab Callen moments earlier.

"Yes, but…" Deeks' eyes dropped again to Callen's hand. "That needs x-rays, and probably surgery, and goodness knows what else. Not a bandage, for Christ's sake." He paused. "I know someone… a doctor. She'd be discreet… At least have someone look at it properly, please? Off the radar… What harm would that be?"

Callen looked at Deeks' concerned face, and down again at his hand. He was silent for a few moments, thinking things through.

"Okay, I guess," he finally agreed. "But strictly off the radar. We're gonna play our own game, Deeks, and we're gonna end this with Janvier for once and for all."


A/N: I'm so so sorry for the long delay :( Life is tough at the moment. I hope the longer chapter (and Deeks...!) makes up for it.

On that note, Deeks is not a character I particularly gel with... I rarely include him in my stories. If you have any thoughts that may help me (there is lots more to come in this story!) please share. If you think I've got something wrong, please critique kindly - and I'll do my best to get him right. I suspect 'my' version of Deeks may be a little different from the one in the show but he's an iconic character and I want to do him justice. I actually quite enjoyed the novelty of writing him and Callen alone together here x