A/N - I apologize for how long it took for me to get this finished. Real life got in the way a bit.
Dropping himself into the uncomfortable chair next to Sam, Deeks leans forward with his elbows on his knees and turns to his friend. His voice is quiet and there is an unmistakable sadness in his tone, "What if she's not okay, Sam?"
. . . .
Sam leans back in his chair and gives him a sympathetic smile. He sees the desperation and unspoken plea in the detective's eyes, as Deeks tries to garner the tiniest slivers of hope as they wait for news.
"She will be," Sam answers after a few seconds, more confidence in his words than may be warranted right now. "Kensi's one of the strongest people I know. A fighter," he claps Deeks on the back, "And she's in good hands here."
"Yeah…" Deeks lets out a slow breath and nods slowly. "I should have been there," he mumbles, mostly to himself.
"It wouldn't have changed anything, man," Sam replies gently.
Deeks stares at his feet, silently begging himself to listen to Sam. He replays what he can envision about the events of the afternoon in his mind for what seems like the thousandth time since Sam gave him the details of what took place.
Deep down, he knows that this could have happened even if he had been with her instead of holed up at LAPD headquarters – it could have happened any day in the last five years. That knowledge doesn't stop him from imagining all the ways he thinks he could have kept Kensi from getting hurt.
Maybe he would have noticed the car a second sooner. Maybe he would have been able to warn her faster so she could have taken cover. Maybe it would have been him in surgery right now simply because she would have been on the driver's side of the car.
He wishes it was him.
"This sucks," he grunts in frustration and pushes himself out of his chair so suddenly that it startles Sam, "What's taking so long?" He asks no one in particular as he resumes his pacing. He's past trying to mask the frustration he's feeling at not knowing how his girlfriend is doing.
He reaches the far wall for what seems like the umpteenth time and when he turns back toward where Sam is seated, he is surprised to see Hetty occupying the chair on the other side of Sam, speaking to him in hushed tones.
"Hetty," he calls out as he hastily makes his way over, "what's going on? Have you heard anything about Kensi?"
She shakes her head sadly, "I'm sorry, Mr. Deeks, I'm afraid I don't know any more than either of you."
"Oh," his gaze drops to his feet.
"I was just telling Mr. Hanna that Mr. Callen requires his assistance—"
Deeks' head snaps up, "Did you find something? Do you have a lead on Kensi's shooter?" He interrupts as the questions spill out of him at rapid speed.
Hetty does not respond right away as she studies Deeks, trying to gauge exactly how much information the undoubtedly emotionally unstable detective can handle.
Sensing her hesitation, Deeks takes a deep breath and appeals to her more carefully, "Hetty…please. I'm not getting anything from anyone here. I need to hear something even remotely good."
She nods slowly, "Eric and Nell believe they've located the car used in the shooting. I'm sending Sam and Mr. Callen to look for the driver."
"Good," he sighs, "That's uh…that's good."
He glances at the main doors that lead to the operating rooms – doors that haven't opened once in the hour and a half that they've been here – hoping that one piece of good news will bring even more.
He feels a strong hand rest briefly on his shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze, "Hang in there, Deeks," Sam gives him a hopeful smile, "We'll keep you posted."
"Thanks, Sam," Deeks nods in response, "And, uh, save me a piece of him."
As he watches Sam walk away, Deeks is acutely aware of Hetty's gaze boring into the back of his head. "Is everything okay, Hetty?" He prompts without turning around.
"Well, Mr. Deeks," she starts as he turns and lowers himself into the chair just vacated by Sam, "I had the misfortune of having a rather unpleasant conversation with Lieutenant Bates earlier. It seems as though you may have failed to mention you were leaving early this afternoon."
"How mad is he?" Deeks knows he doesn't need to defend his actions to Hetty, though Bates probably deserves a phone call.
"Oh he was rather fired up," Hetty chuckles, "but after I explained the situation he was much more understanding."
A brief, grateful smile appears on his face, "Thank you, Hetty. I'll call him later."
"Please see that you do, Mr. Deeks." After a beat, she continues, "Should I assume you will also call Miss Blye's mother?"
Deeks clears his throat and stares at his hands resting in his lap, "Yeah. I, uh, I haven't yet. I wanted to wait until I knew more, until I had more to tell her..." He trails off as he sees a middle-aged woman, dressed in blue scrubs, making her way through the doors and walking towards them.
"Are you here for Kensi Blye?" she asks as she stops in front of the pair who are now on their feet.
For as long as Deeks has been waiting for someone to come out and talk to him about Kensi's status, he suddenly finds himself frozen in place – without the words to even confirm who he is and fearful of what the doctor has to say. He notices that she doesn't look sad or apologetic and it gives him hope that she is delivering good news. Or as good as the news can be considering why they're all here right now.
"Yes, we're here for Miss Blye," Hetty's response breaks him out of his stupor. "Hetty Lange," she gestures to herself, "Kensi works for me. This is Mr. Deeks, her part—"
"Boyfriend," he cuts Hetty off and steps forward to shake the surgeon's hand, "and you can call me Marty."
"Dr. Anderson," the woman gives Deeks a warm smile, "And she's going to be fine. The graze to her arm is insignificant in the grand scheme of things, just a few stitches and it will be a bit sore for a week or so. We were able to extract the bullet from her chest, she did lose quite a bit of blood but thankfully, the bullet deflected away from any major organs although it did crack a rib. She's very lucky, it could have been a lot worse."
Deeks lets out the breath he feels like he's been holding for the past two hours and the dull ache in his heart is already forgotten. He has more questions about things like recovery time and when she can come home, but for now, he only needs the answer to one question.
"Can I see her?" he practically begs.
"She is being moved to her room right now and likely won't be awake for another hour or so but you are welcome to sit with her," the doctor explains, "Though, I can only allow one at a time into her room."
Almost reflexively, Deeks looks to Hetty as though seeking her permission to go. It doesn't escape him how ridiculous that is – as if he was going to go anywhere else or let Hetty be the one to sit with Kensi. Evidently, years of looking to Hetty for orders and directions are difficult to ignore.
Gratefully, Hetty simply pats him on the arm and gives him a slight nod, "Let us know when she wakes up, Mr. Deeks."
"Of course…yeah," he replies quickly before he grabs the plastic bag from his gift shop purchase and turns to follow the doctor.
"So, Marty, is there anything I need to know about Kensi before she wakes up?" Dr. Anderson asks as they make their way through the halls.
Deeks smirks at the woman and he almost pities her for being responsible for Kensi's care while she's here, "She'll probably tell you she's fine as soon as you ask how she's feeling and then she'll want to know when she can go home," he shrugs at the slightly disbelieving look the doctor is giving him, "And you'll have a hard time getting her to agree to take anything stronger than ibuprofen. And she will be hungry."
"She's a tough cookie, huh?" Dr. Anderson jokes as they reach the door to Kensi's room.
"Oh, Doc, you have no idea."
She chuckles and pushes the door open, gesturing for Deeks to enter, "You can stay as long as you want, a nurse or I will check on her periodically. Let us know if you need anything."
He steps inside the room and as Dr. Anderson turns to leave, Deeks gently reaches for her arm, "Thank you," his tone is sincere and his gaze is intense, "Thank you for taking care of her."
The doctor nods and gives him a gentle smile before walking out and closing the door behind her.
Turning to look at Kensi for the first time, Deeks inhales sharply. He's never seen her like this before – covered in bandages, surrounded by beeping hospital machines, an IV in her arm – it's almost too much for him but he's just so grateful that she's alive that he can't stop staring at her.
He slowly makes his way over to the side of her bed and reaches out to gently stroke her arm. He takes in her peaceful appearance – her features are relaxed, her hair quite messy, and he thinks she's still so beautiful. He desperately wishes he could hold her but settles for a long kiss to her forehead instead. Breathing in, he hates that she doesn't smell like the Kensi he knows and loves. The sterile scents of the hospital have replaced the smell of sunshine and gunpowder (and sugary snacks) that he's used to.
After a quick peck to her cheek, Deeks pulls a chair as close to the bed as he can and lowers himself into it. Then, grabbing hold of her hand, he starts talking.
"The first time I met you – as Agent Blye, not Tracy – I didn't know how I was going to survive working with such a closed off, serious, and stubborn woman…"
He talks to her because he can't stand the beeping of the machines being the only thing he hears – as relieved as he is that those beeps mean her heart is beating, it also reminds him where they are and he doesn't need any reminders.
"The first time you were in serious danger – trapped in that room with all the lasers – I didn't know how I was going to forgive myself if I couldn't get you out safely…"
He talks to her because he misses getting to talk to her all day since he's been back at LAPD and he hopes that she misses it too, even though she jokes with him that it's quiet at work for the first time since he joined their team.
"The first time I kissed you – really kissed you, during the Sidorov case – I didn't know how I was ever going to stop…"
He talks to her because he wants his voice to be the first thing she hears when she wakes up.
Looking at his watch, he realizes he's been rambling on for over an hour. He drags his free hand over his face and exhales loudly.
"Come on, Kens, wake up," he pleads, "You gotta wake up…because the first time I tell you how much I love you, you need to pretend like you had no idea and cover up how much you like it by telling me I'm just being sappy because you got shot."
With a small grunt of frustration, Deeks drops his head to the mattress, his hand still firmly holding onto Kensi's.
"I love you too," her voice is weak and raspy and barely audible, "And you are being a little sappy."
Deeks' head snaps up, his eyes wide, and when he sees his girlfriend's mismatched eyes looking back at him, the relief that floods him is palpable.
"Kensi," he breathes out, his voice barely above a whisper. He kisses the hand he's been holding and then stands and presses a lingering kiss to the top of her head.
"Guess it was my turn to get shot, huh?" Kensi winces as she shifts into a more comfortable position. The pain in her arm is sharp while her chest throbs with a dull, pulsing sensation and she's suddenly grateful for whatever drugs they currently have her on.
Deeks lets out a humorless chuckle, "I gotta say, I was okay with you not having a turn."
"Yeah," closing her eyes, she drops her head back against the pillow and sighs, "me too."
When she feels his fingers skim her temple, Kensi relaxes under his touch and leans her head closer to him. After a moment, she opens her eyes and studies him as he methodically brushes her hair away from her face and tucks it behind her ear. The tired, haunted expression he wears is the same one she remembers after she was rescued in Afghanistan. She had forgotten how much she hates that look.
Reaching for his other hand, she gives it a quick squeeze, "Hey, are you doing okay?"
He gives her a soft smile, "I don't know if I'm okay yet, but I'm much better than I was a couple hours ago." He turns his hand over and laces their fingers together, "You scared me, Fern."
She nods slowly, "I'm going to be fine, right? Just a couple of new scars?" she asks as she runs her fingers gently over the gauze covering her wounds.
"Graze to your arm," he points to her right arm, "A few stitches and it will be sore. The other bullet cracked a rib and lodged itself below your collarbone. Doctor had to go in and get it, but yeah, you'll be fine," he gives her a pointed look, "Might even be good eventually."
Shaking her head, Kensi sighs again, "When can we go home?"
Before Deeks can respond, the click of the door opening interrupts them.
"He told me you were going to ask that," Dr. Anderson laughs as she enters the room. "And let me guess, you're feeling fine and I'm going to have to put him," she nods at Deeks, "in charge of your pain meds if I have any chance of getting you to take them?"
Kensi glares at Deeks, who is trying and failing to keep a straight face, but the amused twinkle in her eyes betrays her, "He does know me pretty well," she concedes.
"I'm Dr. Anderson," she introduces herself, "I performed your surgery. It's good to see you awake, Kensi. And to answer your question," the doctor explains as she examines Kensi's wounds and checks on her vitals, "you can probably go home the day after tomorrow. You lost a good amount of blood so we want to make sure your blood pressure remains stable."
Unsurprisingly, Kensi huffs in frustration and gives Deeks a pleading look that screams "Get me out of here!"
"Kens," he shakes his head sympathetically, "we're staying."
Dr. Anderson smiles apologetically and pats Kensi's foot as she turns to leave, "A nurse will come by to check on you later, but you're in pretty good hands already. Get some rest, both of you."
As Deeks watches the door shut slowly, he plops down in his chair and turns towards his girlfriend, "I wish I had been there…"
"Deeks," she gives him a sad look, "you know it probably wouldn't have mattered." She has no doubts that he's thinking of all the ways he could have prevented this, or that maybe it could have been him instead, or how he wishes it was him instead.
He nods and leans forward to rest his elbows on the side of her bed, "I know," he says softly, "But it's my job to keep you safe."
"I think that's my line," Kensi laughs lightly as she reaches out to push a few unruly curls out of his face.
"Well, I guess now it's mine too. Although," he smirks at her, humor creeping back into his voice, "I bet I could get used to playing Nurse Deeks when we get you home. I think you'll need a lot of sponge baths," he raises his eyebrows suggestively, "and lucky for you, I can help with those."
"Oh yeah? That makes me lucky?" she teases.
"Mm-hmm," he nods confidently, "I know Detective Deeks turns you on, but I'm pretty sure Nurse Deeks can get your heart racing too."
Kensi snorts, "Just as long as you don't talk about severed pinkies."
"Yeah, no…" Deeks chuckles and ruffles the hair on the back of his head, "that was uh...that was a stupid idea."
When he looks over to Kensi, she's nodding slowly, with a small smile on her face, but her eyes are growing heavy and she looks as though she's seconds away from falling asleep.
He reaches out to stroke her arm, "Go to sleep Kens, I'll be right here."
"Uh-uh," she shakes her head quickly and forces her eyes to open fully, "I need-" she's cut off as a huge yawn overtakes her.
When she looks back towards Deeks, he's placing a plastic bag beside her on the bed. As she peeks inside, a wide grin splits her face and she gives him a look of great appreciation.
"I need food," she finishes as she pulls a box out of the bag, noticing there are three identical boxes left, "and you brought me Twinkies."
He laughs as he watches her inhale the first one and immediately reach for a second, "Sam mentioned you missed lunch. Plus," he moves the bag to the floor and takes its place next to her, "I figured you would need some cheering up and I knew it would make you smile."
"Thank you," she replies genuinely as she grabs his hand, tugging him toward her to place a kiss on his cheek. "I might love Detective Deeks and I'll probably like Nurse Deeks too," she pauses until he meets her gaze, "but Boyfriend Deeks is my favorite."
"You're so cheesy," he jokes, reaching out with his finger to tap her on the nose.
Kensi lets out another huge yawn, "Yeah…" she is clearly fighting a losing battle with sleep as she struggles to keep her eyes open, "you must be rubbing off on me."
Deeks smooths her hair back and places a slow kiss to her forehead, "You love it," he whispers as her eyes drift shut one more time. A sense of calm washes over him as he breathes her in one more time. For as off-kilter as he's felt over the past few weeks and for as helpless as he felt most of the day, moments like this with her are what keep him balanced.
Settling back into his chair, he holds onto her hand and thinks she's fallen asleep when he feels her gently squeeze his fingers, "I do," her voice heavy with sleep and barely a whisper.
"I do too, Fern. I do too."
..end..
A/N again - Just a quick thank you for everyone who read, followed, favorited and/or reviewed. This was a bit outside my comfort zone as a writer but your feedback has been a great motivator. I hope you enjoyed it!