Author's Note: Hello Everyone! Thanks for the nice feedback – and sorry that I left you with this mean little cliffhanger, and that longer than I wanted to. I actually hoped to get this chapter done faster, so that you aren't left with this gasp-moment for too long, but... writer's block is one of the most awful sicknesses writers suffer from. I guess you know what I'm talking about. If not, let me tell you: that really sucks!
As for the medical side - I read this on the internet, and there are actual cases, so I just take that as a starting point. If there are mistakes in that, please forgive me. I'm no doctor or pharmacist.
Anyway, I hope you'll like what you read.
As always, read, review, and hopefully enjoy ;)
"You always have to remember that playing the violin is not just a hobby. It's a way of expressing yourself, Marty," a ghostly pale figure, so far distorted that one cannot make out any clear features hums in a soft baritone. Everything is a blur of white, swirls of impossible shapes that they seem to push around sound itself.
"But that doesn't make any sense. I don't talk when I play, so how do I express myself?" a young Marty Deeks frowns at the ghostly figure, dancing in front of him in shades of gray that mesh into spirals with a tinge of red in them.
"And that is just the point. When you play, you don't have to talk. This here," the figure, now gaining more of a humanoid shape, pulls at one of the strings of Marty's violin to produce a sound, "this here is your statement. And it's loud and clear for all those you want it to be. Only those who understand you will understand your music. And only those who understand your music will understand you. It's like a secret code."
Marty beams at the now palely flesh-colored figure whose eyes look like those of a huge fish, round and somehow out-of-place, "Really? A secret code?"
The figure nods at him, offering a warm smile, "A secret code, hm. And that is something no one can take from you. Those who don't understand your secret message will never truly know. Because words can't express it."
"Wow," the boy smiles happily, his eyes glistening.
"So now, play it again," the man with hazel eyes and warm smile tells him, now wearing a checkered flannel shirt and beige trousers. Marty gleefully takes up the bow and starts to play Sarabande.
Deeks opens his eyes as the first tunes of Sarabande are humming inside his head again. He looks around, trying to make sense of his surrounding. White walls. White ceiling. A steady dripping sound to his right, is it? He is in hospital... why is he in hospital? He never was when... wait, he's no longer a small child. Right. He is a detective who... who went undercover for NCIS and probably screwed everything up? Yeah, that fits the picture far better. However, before Deeks can go on to curse at himself or muse about the strange familiarity that came with this dream, two mismatched eyes look at him, full of concern and worry.
"Deeks! You're awake," Kensi breaks out. Finally, finally! She knows that the doctors told her that they had everything under control, but Kensi just can't push past the image of Deeks cowering on the ground, as though he was already dead. And she can't afford to lose him, no. That's no option for her. It has never been with him as her partner, but it's most certainly no longer since they share tender feelings. She needs him in her life. He is her happiness, the guy who calls her up late at night to talk about how awful the TV program is or that Monty just brought him the ball with spit all over. She needs their weird kind of normalcy.
She needs him.
"... seemingly," Deeks croaks, straightening up a bit, though dizziness soon claims him.
"Easy, easy," she hushes him. However, Deeks, ever so stubborn, moves until he somewhat sits before he lets out an almost canine-like grunt.
"I told you to take it easy, you moron," she grumbles. Deeks rewards her with a faint smile. He knows that this is how Kensi shows that she cares. "Wait a sec, I'll just get a doctor in here."
He grasps her hand suddenly. She stops in the motion, offering a soft smile, a loose strand of her hair falling freely into her face. She presses back as she assures him, "I'll be right back, okay?"
"Okay," he nods. She winks at him before she almost jumps out of the room to get a doctor inside. A few moment later, she practically drags a young Indian physician into the room, tall, dark hair, red glasses and jeans.
"Well, your partner already informed me that you're awake," the doctor smirks as he comes up to him. "Hi, I'm Dr. Malik."
"Hi doc," Deeks offers a tired smile.
"So, how are you feeling, Mr. Deeks?" he asks casually.
"Still a bit weird," Deeks grimaces.
"Alright, then let me do a quick check, yes?" the doctor suggests.
"You are the boss," Deeks shrugs. Dr. Malik starts with his routine, "Do you feel dizzy?"
"Not much, I guess, I mean... It's still kinda fuzzy inside my head," Deeks admits.
"That's normal, but it should pass soon," the doctor assures him. "Any pain?"
"No," Deeks replies.
"Alright, any trouble breathing?" Dr. Malik asks as he carries on with the procedure.
"No, not at all," Deeks answers.
"Good, good. Okay, follow my finger with your eyes," the doctor instructs him. Deeks does so.
"Very well. Blood pressure and heartbeat are also back to normal," Dr. Malik smiles at him. "You gave us quite a scare, Mr. Deeks."
"I'm known and feared for giving lasting impressions," Deeks winks at him.
"Well, it's looking good for now. We will keep monitoring you to be on the safe side, but it's looking very good," Dr. Malik tells him. "Do you have any questions?"
"Just what the hell knocked me off my feet?" Deeks shakes his head.
"Tetrahydrozoline. It's a substance that can do serious harm. In your case, the dose was gladly too low, but the amount was still high enough to make you lose consciousness and cause hypertension. When you came in, both your blood pressure as well as your heartbeat were extremely high. We gave you medication to prevent further harm. Gladly, you were brought to hospital fast enough so that we could treat you," Dr. Malik tells him.
"Awesome," Deeks huffs. "I'm such a lucky man, aren't I?"
"Yeah, you were," Kensi jumps in. "If you had been home alone, you could have slipped into coma, or worse."
"She is right. It was actually a lucky coincidence that you were not alone when the tetrahydrozoline unfolded its full effect," Dr. Malik tells him, now more severe.
"It was a close call," Kensi adds, hugging her arms nervously.
"Yet, we are very positive that you'll make full recovery," the doctor tells him. "So anything else?"
"No, that's it, thanks, doc," Deeks replies.
"Okay, then you should just rest some more," the doctor tells him. "If something is, there's someone within reach at any time."
"Yeah, I know, the fun-button," Deeks jokes.
"I'll check on you later again," Dr. Malik nods before he leaves. Kensi walks back up to him, "Don't you ever do that again."
"I'll try," Deeks offers a weak smirk, but then rubs a hand over his face with a grunt, "So that means I got roofied, huh?"
"No roofy, eye drops," Callen's voice rings from the entrance as the team leader makes his way inside along with Sam.
"... what?" Deeks blinks at the two.
"We just got the results. You were poisoned with eye drops. When ingested, they can cause hypertension and all the symptoms you showed. If it had been a bit more, you may have fallen into coma, or possibly die," Sam adds as both come to stand next to the bed.
"Great, if I had died thanks to this, they would've written on my tombstone 'He died because of eye drops'... I mean, dying in a shootout, okay, because of a bomb, fine, but... eye drops?! As a cop, my reputation is kinda on the line here," Deeks wants to joke, but he soon realizes that it isn't really funny. He could have died... the hell, he could have died. The doctor told him only seconds ago, but only now it sinks in, now that he has those people in front of him he truly cares about. They could have lost him. And he could have lost them. That's really not funny.
"Sorry," he adds meekly.
"It's okay," Kensi exhales, patting the back of his hand.
"So you okay?" Callen asks.
"Peachy," Deeks winks at him. "How long was I out?"
He runs his left hand over his face.
"Twelve hours," Sam tells him.
"Okay, so now we know someone's targeting me," Deeks huffs. "Or well... the props that fell down may have been a sign already."
"Do you have any idea who did this?" Callen questions.
"I didn't see anyone close to my stuff... I mean... uh...," he grimaces. There are still too many cobwebs distorting his vision and mind. And Deeks can't deny the strong urge to wave his hands around to get rid of them.
"Adrian talked to you, right?" Kensi scaffolds.
"Yeah, but I ate at the restaurant with the rest of the group, so he couldn't have smuggled it into my food," Deeks argues.
"It doesn't have to be food, he could've put it in your drink also," Sam argues.
"Did you drink before, while or after you talked to him?" Callen asks.
"Yeah, sure," Deeks shrugs. "Smith always ponders that we have to stay hydrated."
He licks his lips, "But I think I honestly would have realized if someone spiked my drink when right in front of me."
"Does Adrian drink the same brand by any chance?" Callen questions.
"... yes, so do Katy, Jimmy, Susanne and Carter," Deeks confirms. "It's one of the most common brands."
"Then maybe he didn't put the eye drops into your drink, but simply exchanged his bottle with yours," Callen argues. "That's easier done and it may have gone without your notice."
"I don't think that he... no, I talked to him the whole time," Deeks argues. He goes over the scenes again. If only his mind were clearer, because when he calls them to mind, the just blur into obscure mandalas that twist and turn so viciously that his mind spins along with them.
"I just remember that we talked and that he said that he couldn't come to single practice because of his job. Then he took off in a rush because he saw Katy coming up to me... and he doesn't like Katy and the guys," Deeks tells them.
"So he took off in a rush...," Callen repeats, his facial features quizzical. Deeks knows where the team leader's thoughts are heading with this, and he surely doesn't like it.
"But not like that," Deeks argues weakly.
"Maybe he didn't want to be linked to the crime. He could've told you that he couldn't come to single practice so that it wouldn't fall back on him, and took off to dispose the bottle," Sam says.
"I would've realized if he... no," Deeks shakes his head. He would have realized it. He is a cop. He would see such things, right?
"Deeks, that could have happened to anyone," Kensi argues.
"Yeah, but it happened to me," he snorts.
"We didn't see it coming either. If at all, we all thought it'd be more props falling down or something of the like," Kensi tries to support him, but at that moment, Deeks is having none of it, "At the restaurant I was far more distracted because we all started joking and fooling around. It went wild once they started tossing food at each other, acting like children. I think it's more likely for one of them to have done it, or at least they had way better chances."
"Well, the bottle was spiked. We have the results already," Sam tells him. "That means someone must have gotten to your bottle."
"I had my backpack with me when we went there, hence I also had my bottle with me," Deeks argues. "And I ate all I had on my plate, so probably no way to prove that there wasn't something in it, too."
"Why bother to spike the bottle if the idea is to spike the food?" Sam returns.
"... just to be on the safe side? I don't know. It's just... I paid more attention to what was going on with Adrian when we talked than I was when I had lunch with the rest of the group, all I'm saying," Deeks admits, rubbing his eyes.
"And anyone else who may have done it?" Callen questions.
"No, not really. Except for the group, people mostly stay with their fellow instruments, so oboe stays with oboes and so on... I only had contact with the guys, Smith, Parker, and... Adrian," Deeks explains, his voice still quivering lightly.
"Well, I think that was the broad hint that we should move the investigation up a gear and charge Carson," Callen grimaces.
"What?" Deeks exclaims.
"Deeks, you were targeted twice. And this time it is clearly no longer just some prop that fell down by accident. Someone tried to harm you, possibly kill you," Callen argues sternly.
"But we don't know if Adrian's done it," Deeks retorts.
"Deeks, you are the only one I know who still believes in his innocence!" Sam exclaims, though more out of concern for the detective than real anger.
"Right," Deeks narrows his eyes. "I'm the only one – and don't you find that weird also?!"
"Now what?!" Sam knits his eyebrows at him.
"Why does everyone already assume he is the culprit – I mean, all the way from orchestra, to us, to public opinion. It has to be him," Deeks exhales.
"You said so before," Kensi nods.
"... did I? If you're referring to the conversation we had at the office... I don't remember much of it," Deeks admits. "Anyway, uhm... even at the risk of repeating myself, I find it odd that everyone is assuming that Adrian is the one who's done it. There is no other way than that it is him."
"How is that odd to you?" Sam questions.
"It's odd to me because it's just all too clear. C'mon. The guy dressing in black, the one who comes in second, envying the first violin for his charisma and position, the guy who doesn't talk much and if he does has only mean comments? He is the typical bad guy. It's so typical that it hurts," Deeks exclaims.
"So you still believe that someone tries to make it look like he's the culprit," Callen exhales. "Deeks, I get your feelings, but you said it yourself. Carson is a violinist, he is no killer out of the handbook. That means he makes mistakes, but that doesn't mean someone else set him up."
"You don't know him the way I do," Deeks argues, but Callen interrupts, "Right, we don't. And that means we have a more balanced perspective on this, Deeks. Evidence is on our side. This is the guy. So we should just close the case, have him over to the boatshed, and get the truth out of him."
"That won't work," Deeks snorts. "Adrian will tell you a shit."
"Deeks, you think too highly of him. I think that guy breaks easier than you may believe," Sam huffs. "Once you paint the picture of how prison is like, most of them break. That violinist won't be any different."
"Okay, maybe... still, you said yourself, unless I just imagined this, that we still have no more than circumstantial evidence. How do we prove him anything, for when he doesn't spill?" Deeks questions.
"Look, we let you go undercover in the orchestra to see if there is a bigger conspiracy going on. Nothing speaks for it. Everything speaks for Carson being the culprit, that it is indeed that easy," Callen exhales. "And I don't say that to degrade your work in any way or because I don't trust your skills, it's just that we got to see the whole picture thanks to you. And that is sadly with Carson as the most probable suspect."
Deeks glances to the side, averting his eyes. The other three agents exchange glances mixed with concern, tiredness and worry.
"Deeks...," Kensi turns to him in a soft voice, but he doesn't respond.
"Okay, maybe it'd be better to have that discussion some time later," Callen breaks the silence. "You should probably get some more rest, Deeks."
The team leader nods at Sam, "C'mon."
Sam understands, and both agents leave the room silently. Only Kensi stays by the detective's bedside, grasping his hand loosely, "Deeks? Can you look at me, please?"
His blue eyes meet her dark ones.
"What's the matter with you, huh?" she asks in a soft voice.
"You mean other than being poisoned?" he huffs, smirking gently, though the smile doesn't reach his eyes.
"You know that Callen doesn't do that to degrade you, right?" Kensi questions.
"Of course I know. He tries to protect me, but...," he bites his lower lip.
"But what?" she knits her eyebrows at him.
"Did you ever have the feeling you can't shake off that you're right, though it's against all odds?" he asks.
"Sure," she snickers. "Who doesn't?"
"I have that with Adrian. I know this guy. I... I honestly think I know him. He is no killer. He is just... weird, and a bit more antisocial than most people," Deeks shakes his head. He heard him play. As stupid and childish as it is, he heard Adrian play, he learned his code. And that code doesn't contain murder. It speaks of hurt feelings, neglect, but also tranquility and silence, faint hope. Deeks heard him when playing with that young man, he heard Adrian's message through the humming of two instruments becoming one melody, one harmony. And that is why the detective can't believe that this is the person who killed Mike, and tried to kill him also.
"And it may turn out to be like that, but don't you think Callen still has a point? That we should call it off and simply run a normal investigation from now on?" she suggests. "You were targeted. We can't move around that. And that person almost managed to...," she bites her lower lip. Deeks squeezes her hand gently, which makes her smile a little, though her eyes speak of her sadness and worry.
"I just think that if we call this off now, and it turns out that Adrian wasn't the one, then... then the murderer may continue. Or what if he or she actually targets Adrian next?" Deeks sighs.
"But what if it is Adrian after all and we let him continue?" Kensi argues.
"Okay, so call me foolish, but at this point we have less risk because I'm standing between Adrian and the first violin," Deeks says, which makes Kensi frown at him incredulously, "What do you mean?"
"Well, first violins are targeted, by whoever that is. That means the attacks focus on the first violins. Without me there as a buffer...," his voice trails off.
"Deeks, if we turn Adrian in and he is proven to be the culprit, then we need no buffer, don't you see that?" Kensi returns.
"Of course, but what. If. Not," Deeks argues more sternly this time. "If I quit, then there are two options, given that Adrian is not turned in and charged for murder and attempted murder: Option one, Adrian plays first violin for the upcoming concert. Option two, they postpone the concert, get rid of him and only start again once they have a set of two new violinists to take his and my spot."
"Yeah, okay, so what?" she frowns at him, so Deeks shrugs, "That is fairly obvious, isn't it?"
"I suppose so. Why?" Kensi's frown only deepens.
"It doesn't take a genius to see that option two is more likely. Then why the hell would Adrian go such great length to get to me? Why would he do all that just to become first violin, huh? He knows he won't make it. He knows the rumors, so he most likely knows that the committee thinks about firing him. Then why on earth does he endanger even his spot as second violin with... this here," he points down at himself.
"Well, all I can say is that maybe Adrian doesn't do it to earn your spot, but simply... because he has something personally against both you and Mike, or he is just disappointed with the way he is treated despite his talent – and thus kills and hurts people," Kensi offers.
"I just don't see the sense in that," Deeks admits, and then mutters to himself, "I don't hear the code."
"You just have to see that you did everything you could, Deeks. And thanks to your work, we have about enough to get to Adrian, if he is the man," Kensi tries to encourage Deeks another time.
"Honestly, ever since that case started, I wanted it to be over, but now... now I can't help but feel sad and angry that you want to call me off the case. It just feels undone, Kensi," Deeks bites his lower lip. "I know I'm missing something. I just need a bit more time."
"Deeks, please, you can't be serious. Someone tried to kill you twice, and almost managed once. How do you want to return after you were friggin' poisoned?" Kensi argues sternly.
"No one of the orchestra knows," Deeks shrugs.
"Deeks, you were just out for twelve hours, okay? You just collapsed and your heart almost gave out. You can't go back just like that!" Kensi exclaims, anger taking worry's place.
"Kensi...," Deeks sighs, but the female agent is having none of it, "You can't just almost die and then head right back in!"
"All I'm saying is...," Deeks wants to return, but Kensi interrupts him, "You could have been killed, Deeks. Face it. This is a risk we don't have to take. We can just get the statement out of Adrian."
"But what if he isn't the one who's done it?!" Deeks replies sternly.
"Then we will know by the end of the interrogation," Kensi shrugs.
"Och, please," Deeks snorts. "Adrian's made no attempt to discount that he has to do with it."
"So what?" Kensi can't help but roll her eyes.
"Someone who gives a damn on that... will he be that much different when it comes to an interrogation? I honestly think that guy doesn't care much about anything," Deeks shakes his head. Adrian openly threatened him, while at the same time it's obvious that he knows exactly what he is being accused of – and actually joked about it. He openly says that he's an asshole. And now that guy is supposed to fight for it? Deeks can't picture. Just as he can't picture Adrian as the culprit, no matter how much common sense should tell him to.
"He is a civilian. Civilians break sooner or later," Kensi argues.
"I don't want this to be over yet," he admits, puckering his lips slightly.
"Why?" she asks. "You said that you don't like it because you don't want to play the violin for whatever the reason."
"And I don't. But... When I close a case, I want to have the feeling that it's done. That it's dealt with, neatly in a file, and that it stays there. With this case... I don't think I will have any restful sleep – because I still have the feeling that there is more to this than we see yet," Deeks explains, meeting her eyes.
"Sadly, we have to live with that from time to time, Deeks," she exhales, though her eyes show sympathy. She knows how hard it can be to let go of a case that you start to take personal. You don't want to let go. You still work on other options, you have to. Have to. It's a constant pull on the strings of your mind, and they make you move against your will.
"I know...," he exhales. Kensi pats his hand, knitting her eyebrows at him in concern and worry. He holds on to her hand, trying to find comfort in the warmth creeping through her fingertips. Maybe they are right after all? No, technically, Deeks knows that they are right. From a professional perspective, that is the state of affairs. Maybe it's the eye drops after all, or Sarabande that is still humming inside his head. Maybe he is too close in the end and thus fails to see the bigger picture from a distance.
However, before he can go on to contemplate any further, a voice rings from the entrance once again, "Mr. Deeks, it's good to see you back under the living."
Hetty steps inside. If she is worried, which she probably is, the petite woman does well at hiding it behind a mask of calm.
"Miss Blye, Mr. Callen wants to see you," Hetty tells the female agent – though all know that she simply wants to have a private conversation with Deeks.
"Okay," she nods at her, but then turns to the detective another time in a soft voice, "I'll be right back."
He winks at her as she gets up and leaves the room wordlessly. Hetty takes her spot.
"So, Mr. Deeks, how are you feeling?" she asks.
"Intoxicated?" Deeks manages a weary smirk.
"I imagine," she chuckles softly. "Though I already heard from Mr. Callen that you do not see this as a sign to call it a day?"
"You know me. I have my moments of workaholicism once in a while," Deeks shrugs, which makes the IV-line wobble like an overcooked noodle.
"Mr. Deeks. If you are sincere, then you should better deliver me a good reason why I should let you continue with this case," Hetty argues sternly.
"Hetty...," Deeks sighs, but the petite woman quickly interrupts him, "Mr. Deeks, you will answer me, truthfully. So that I understand why you would want to continue with this case when everything speaks against you, and when you were targeted twice."
"I'm not crazy... I mean... well, not that kind of crazy. I know that I'm a special child," Deeks huffs.
"Mr. Deeks," she narrows her eyes at him.
"Okay, here I go... so, I know I'm not operating the way the agents do at times. Because I'm a cop," Deeks licks his lips nervously. "And especially as undercover cop... well, there are no clear structures. No rules set to follow through like a check list."
"Of course," Hetty nods.
"Throughout my career I always had to rely on myself. I had to rely on my instinct. I didn't always have fancy information or the dynamic duo of analysts who find every dirty little secret. It happened that I only had a name. A picture... sometimes I didn't even have that. I just met those people and had to figure out with whom I could collaborate and from whom I had to stay the hell away. And not always was that easy," Deeks explains. "And then I could only rely on my instinct. In all those years I worked as an undercover cop... my instinct rarely fooled me."
Hetty nods wordlessly. That was actually one of the reasons why she took Deeks under her wing, not that this is something she has to say out loud, though.
"And even if common sense should tell me otherwise... here I lie in bed and... my instinct tells me that there is still something we don't see yet," Deeks goes on.
"And what would that be, Mr. Deeks?" she questions.
"If I knew, I'd tell you. I wish I could, but... I can't put my finger on it," Deeks sigh. "Look, I know this sounds ridiculous, especially after I gave everyone hell about how I don't want to do that case."
"Is it Mr. Carson by any chance?" Hetty questions. "As someone you... like?"
"Honestly – yes. I like him. He's weird, but... I'm weird, too, so maybe that's why. But that's not the only thing. I'm actually that professional, Hetty. It's just... I know Adrian by now, at least a bit – and my instinct didn't tell me just once that I'm in real danger, that he is the one targeting me. And I know, I honestly know how stupid it sounds, but... but my instinct is what I rely on. I relied on it for all my life and now... now people tell me that I shouldn't trust it, but... but that's what I always trusted in, Hetty," Deeks bites his lower lip.
"I understand that, Mr. Deeks. I, too, had my moments where my instinct told me otherwise, but... in the end, instinct is still just a feeling, and facts outweigh any doubt," Hetty says in a hushed voice, though it's clear that she actually feels sympathy for him. His shoulders sink at that.
"So... we just call it a day... and that's it," Deeks exhales.
"I don't see any reason to keep the investigation on the level of an undercover operation when one of my team is in dire danger and when w have a more than probable culprit," she shrugs.
"That sucks," Deeks grumbles, unable to help himself.
"I feel with you, Mr. Deeks," she assures him.
"... thanks," he replies weakly.
Hetty wants to say something when suddenly her phone rings.
"A moment," she mutters as she fishes the cell out of her pocket. "Hello?"
She listens to the person on the other end of the line, nodding silently. Deeks blinks at the petite woman, but then she says, "Could you repeat that another time, Mr. Beale?"
The detective frowns at her as Hetty puts Eric, apparently, on loudspeaker, "We just found out that someone messed with the video tapes Mr. Smith gave to us for the 'normal investigation' we have going on beside the undercover op. The material was deleted on a professional level that goes beyond deleting the minutes in question and show an empty hallway."
"Someone messed with the videos?!" Deeks gapes.
"Deeks?!" Eric cries out. "Man, is good to hear you. How are you?"
"I'm okay, thanks, but now back to the case...," Deeks urges.
"Right, right, well, Nell and I went over the tapes again and again until we realized something off about the signature. I guess it'd lead too far to explain it all, but in short, the videos don't match. Someone removed the files purposely," Eric goes on to explain.
"Could Mr. Carson have done that by any chance?" Hetty questions.
"Well, I saw him using his new smartphone. He almost smashed it coz he was so disappointed that he couldn't write a text with it," Deeks shrugs, but then adds with a sigh, "... but that's of course no fact."
"But Deeks is right that Carson is not the only one who could have done it," Eric provides. "As you may remember, Smith was very reluctant to hand out the video tapes at first. And he is the one in charge of them."
"So... Smith did it by chance?" Deeks grimaces. "I mean... if it shows Adrian attaching the needle that killed Mike, then it wouldn't make any sense that he removed these, right? He wants to get Adrian out of the way. That would be just what he needs to throw him out."
"Or he does it to keep up the orchestra's good name," Hetty argues. "... or it's Mr. Carson after all."
"But... we can't know for sure, right? I mean...," Deeks argues nervously.
"Mr. Deeks, if you think you can manipulate me, you are mistaken," she narrows her eyes at him.
"You said yourself, the facts matter, right?" Deeks argues with a faint grin creeping all the way up to his eyes.
"So you really want to continue as Julian Ambrose," Hetty sighs.
"Yes," Deeks nods. "Question is if you let me."
"I can't deny that I have more than an uneasy feeling about all this, Mr. Deeks – and I hope that you are aware that all of it could turn out to be nothing but dust once more. And you should also know that we won't go on looking for proof for Mr. Carson's innocence alone. Our task is to find the person responsible – whoever that may be. And that means if evidence remains on Mr. Carson's side, I will not hesitate to have him in the boatshed to get the truth out of him," Hetty argues sternly.
"Of course, Hetty," Deeks nods frantically.
"... then I suppose we don't call this off yet," she grimaces.
"You are the best boss ever," Deeks grins at her.
"Tells me the detective who is lying in hospital, poisoned. Mr. Deeks, your enthusiasm keeps on impressing me, though it's a dangerous trait at times," Hetty shakes her head, unable to hide a small smile.
"Well, then I guess we have to let the others know. Callen will probably kill me for it... if no one else does it," Deeks shakes his head.
"And I will if you screw this up," Callen huffs suddenly from the entrance, with the other two in tow.
"You guys dig the grand openings, walking in with a smartass line, huh?" Deeks huffs.
"You got no idea," Callen winks back at him.
"So Nell updated you while Eric informed us?" Deeks nods.
"Yeah. Even if I don't see that this removes Carson as the culprit, it's at least worth digging into. And for that we need you two undercover," Callen agrees. "Smith still believes that NCIS is only running a standard investigation, which is why he probably didn't think we'd find out that the tapes were faked, if he knew. If we are lucky, he didn't remove them yet. That means we need you in his office to see if he hid them there. If not, we'll send in Nell and Eric as technicians over at his home to see if he has them there somewhere... and at the same time we will see if we find something on Carson's account, same procedure."
"Thank you," Deeks says, his voice honestly filled with appreciation.
"Not for that," Callen shakes his head. "We might turn up empty after all. Even if it's an odd thing to do, if Smith did it, he might still do that to keep prestige. Or he hides something that does nothing for our investigation – and it's just him in an awkward situation. But we will check."
"Thanks," Deeks repeats, wanting to make it clear that he really appreciates it.
"Very well, then I think we would all do good to give Mr. Deeks some privacy, so he may recover," Hetty suggest, but then turns to Deeks more sternly, "and just so that you know, Mr. Deeks, you will only be back the moment your doctor releases you. No arguing.
Hetty narrows her eyes to thin slits, pointing his finger at him almost threateningly. Deeks can't help but smile at that. It's funny how tough the love is with these agents. They always threaten to kill you if you get killed. Or hurt you if you get hurt. Deeks makes a mock-salute at the petite woman as she ushers the others out the door.
"Bye, Deeks, get better," the three say in unison as Hetty makes them leave.
"Thanks, bye," Deeks waves, leaning back against the pillow.
Sarabande starts to hum faintly in his ears again as Deeks allows his eyes to close for a moment, but this time, he doesn't cringe at the memory, because he now remembers it used to be a good one, long before darkness claimed its stake on Carl Bohm's wonderful music, or that of all the others that were tainted thanks to what happened in the past. There was a time when Deeks took to heart what the man had told him, and found hope in that. So, for this fleeting moment, Deeks allows the happier version of Sarabande to play within him.
Is it just him or is it truly irony that he was poisoned with eye drops? Because it made him see a memory he long since forgot about, he saw clearer through the blurry pictures his mind created in thin smoke, so that for once Deeks can listen to Sarabande and... not feel the cold?
Maybe he can pull this off after all.
Maybe this will work out.
And maybe, just maybe, he won't go crazy over this.