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She was sitting in the uncomfortable, wooden chair, its thin, blue cushion slowly starting to hurt to sit on, but there was no way she was going anywhere. She was sat next to his hospital bed, the chair brushing right up against its white metal side, as she had moved the chair to be as close to him as possible. There was currently no one else in the private room they were in, as the doctors was finished performed the plethora of tests and examinations of the injured liaison detective and their colleagues had yet to show.

He had been out cold throughout the entirety of the examinations, the morphine he had gotten from the paramedics having given him the pain relief needed to get the first bit of actual rest, albeit drug-induced, in over twenty-four hours.

Kensi had originally been at unease at how long her boyfriend had been out for, but the doctor, who had introduced himself as Albert Jameson, who was the one treating Deeks, had assured her that it was perfectly natural, since his body needed the rest in order to further the healing process.

Her hand was placed tenderly on top of his, her thumb drawing circles on his wrist in the same way he usually would. She knew he was doing above expectations physically, Doctor Jameson had ensured her that there would be no long-term physical impairments, but both the experienced doctor and her were worried about his current psychological state.

The man whom they had found in that horrible, wooden box had been so unlike the man she knew and loved. She couldn't stop herself from drawing similarities between him, and the damaged man, who half-panically had refused to open his mouth in order for the doctor to assess the damage done. He, too, had seen danger where there was none, just as Deeks had done in the warehouse, both when Callen had spoken and when the paramedics had arrived.

Thinking back to that fearful man she had been forced to leave on the gurney by their assistant director, as they still needed to secure the stolen nuclear devices. She knew rationally that it was the right thing to do, it was her job, but she had never been able to forgive herself for leaving the man, who had just poured his heart out to her through a kiss, to deal with such horrible demons.

She would redeem herself. No doubt in her mind. She would be with her partner through the whole healing process, not just the physical one. No matter what happened or who would try to force her away, she would steadfastly refuse to leave his side. She knew it would take a long time for the man to overcome, what he had just been through. Nightmares would be an almost certainty, but at least she would be sleeping next to him this time, ready to force the frightening recollections in his dreams away.

Thinking about his current mental state caused the unshed layer of tears in her eyes to finally brim over, and for once, she didn't angrily swipe away at the sign of weakness, she merely allowed herself to get it all out of her system. She knew that she had to be strong in the near future to help the best man in her life through the toughest time in his.

...

They had spoken to their female colleague, who had told them that there weren't any updates on their injured friend, and since they knew he was currently sleeping, they wouldn't be able to contribute with anything at the hospital at the moment anyways. Because of that, Sam and Callen had headed back to OSP the minute they had showed the crime scene technicians, where they were needed.

They walked into the old building and through the tunnel leading into the main room. They were about to head up the stairs and into the Ops Center, but before they could set foot on the first step, an easily recognizable voice called for them behind.

"Mr. Callen, Mr. Hanna, a moment please?" She asked, gesturing back towards her open office.

The two senior agents glanced at each other, unsure of what their operations manager wanted at the moment, but knew better than to refuse to join her.

"I've just come off the phone with Director Vance," she started. "I was updating him on the situation regarding Mr. Deeks, as well as the elusive Mr. Troyger, whose status as missing he was not too pleased to hear."

"What are you trying to say, Hetty?" Callen asked, the anger he stored just beneath the surface making the question sound much harsher than he had meant.

"What I am trying to say, Mr. Callen, is that all of our cases are currently suspended…"

"What? Hetty he can't do that." The team leader asked incredulously.

"…Until we've caught the ones behind Mr. Deeks' physical and mental mauling," she continued her sentence from before. "Director Vance was adamant that until we have found and caught Mr. Troyger, The Office of Special Projects will not be handling any new cases." She finished her explanation, purposely having made it so the information was a relief for the agents, in order to skim away the top of their anger.

The team leader squinted slightly at the older woman, "Are you sure it was Director Vance who was adamant on that and not you, Hetty?"

She smiled slightly as his insinuation, "Actually, Mr. Callen, it was Owen who suggested it in the first place, although I am not denying the fact that it would have been the case no matter what."

"Why is it that I don't doubt that?" Sam said amused, but quickly sobered at the overall situation.

She just smiled inwardly at her agent's question, "Now if you will have me excused, I have a few more phone calls to make." She told them, gesturing upwards towards the Ops Center, silently telling them to resume what they were originally going to do.

...

Feeling him stir beneath her touch, she soon began to see the signs of him waking up. At first it was a slight twitch of his finger, then she saw his breathing become more erratic, as he came closer to the land of the conscious, his eyelid blinked a few times, causing her to stand up in anticipation of him waking up.

"Hey there, baby," she whispered to him, making sure to sound as non-threatening as possible. She felt him tense beneath her gentle touch. "It's okay, Marty. You're in the hospital, no one is going to hurt you anymore, I promise you," she told him, not sure he would remember where he was upon waking up, and wanted to reassure him of his safety.

Whilst he was still in his drug-induced sleep, she had decided on calling him Marty through his recovery, knowing that the name bore positive emotional weight for him, as she only used it during their most emotionally intimate moments.

"Kensi?" He asked for her, his voice hoarse and fearful as he searched for her.

The first few seconds after waking up, he had been panicking, unsure of where he was, but upon hearing the soothing voice of his partner and girlfriend, he managed to push back the immediate alarming thoughts. Even though he had recognized her voice, he had still felt the need for further confirmation in order to settle the thoughts.

"I'm right here," she assured him, squeezing his hand before brining it up to her lips and placing a tender kiss to the back of his palm. "I'm right here," she echoed again.

"T-thank you," he mumbled after a short silence.

Although he avoided eye contact, he hadn't turned his head away from her, which was a clear sign of improvement already, she thought to herself. Finally able to get a good luck at his ocean blue eyes, she saw that they were brimming with unshed tears, as he was clearly still uncertain and frightened about the whole situation.

"You don't have to thank me for that, Marty," she told him reassuringly. "I'll be right he as long as you want me to. I'm not going anywhere."

He didn't respond verbally, but she did think she saw a small nod from him. Smiling at his small acknowledgement, she reached with the hand that wasn't tethered to his, and tenderly moved a tendril of his blond hair way from his eyes.

She could still feel the unease and tremor right beneath the surface on him, but the fact that he had been responsive to her was a major relief. Just as she dared to think he might not have been as emotionally scarred, as she had previously feared, the door opened to the room, and the almost lucid blond disappeared, replaced by a panicky, trembling man.

"P-please, n-no more," he said, shutting his eyes tightly, as he repeated the pleading mantra from the warehouse. The previously unshed tears running free down his beaten and bruised cheeks, and he squeezed Kensi's hand to the point where both of their fingers turned white.

Chastising herself for believing his mental state to not be as bad, she felt like she should have foreseen his reaction to unexpected noises.

She was attempting to reassure him instantly, tenderly caressing his cheek before she could think about her actions. "It's okay. Shh…It's okay, Marty," she told him, as he, thankfully, leaned into her silky touch. "It's the doctor, no one is going to hurt you, okay?" She whispered loudly to him, trying to keep away the hurt she felt from seeing him like this, as she felt the need to make sure she kept her voice as soft as possible.

She could tell his erratic breathing was uncomfortable for him, as it put unnecessary strain on his already cracked ribs. He moved his face further into the soft touch of her hand, and she continued to draw circles with her thumb. After a few semi-deep breaths, he was able to nod at her question.

The doctor, to his credit, had kept his distance during the encounter. Although he had received a phone call from an old, dear friend of his regarding this specific patient, he hadn't had a chance to see the injured liaison detective awake yet, and the reaction he had seen had deeply troubled the experienced doctor. He found the man's reaction much worse than expected, and already mentally made plans to bring in someone who could help with the mental anguish.

Kensi continued to caress his cheek, her soft touch and reassuring murmurs slowly grounding the injured man, when she felt him stop shaking, she asked him. "Is it okay for your doctor to come over and speak to you?"

Upon seeing the small nod from his patient, the grey-haired man looked to woman for further approval to approach. Receiving yet another nod, he calmly walked to the opposite bedside of the brunette.

The doctor was large in stature, but his silver-grey hair, round glassed, and kind smile made Kensi feel warmth around him. He definitely did not come off as threatening, but since even Deeks' colleagues had made him tremble previously, she didn't hold high hopes for the reaction to the doctor.

"Hello, Mr. Deeks, I'm Doctor Albert Jameson, I'm your attending physician," he informed him, his voice startling the man lying next to him, but Kensi's touch combined with his deep, silky voice managed to subdue some of the fear the injured detective had displayed. "While you were asleep I took the liberty of running a few tests, are you up for hearing the results, or would you prefer me saving that for a later point in time?" He felt it best to give the man options instead of springing him with information.

Deeks ventured a small glance at his girlfriend next to him, wanting to gauge her reaction. Seeing that he was looking at her in guidance, Kensi merely gave him a brave smile, not wanting to push him to something he didn't think he was up to.

"I-I'd rather wait," he stammered out, thinking for a second he added. "If that's o-okay?"

Kensi frowned at the need for further confirmation, since he had just been told that it was his choice. Obviously another byproduct of whatever it was that he had gone through at the hands of the sadistic Troyger.

"Of course," the kind doctor told him assuringly. "Now you might want to see if you can get some sleep, your body will need a lot of rest during the recovery. I'll be coming by to see you once more before I'm off." Doctor Jameson quickly checked the IV bag, ensuring it was at the correct setting, "If you need anything don't hesitate to press that call button, okay?" He told the two, gesturing to the location of the button, before turning his attention solely to Deeks. "You try and get some rest now," he told his patient with a warm smile, before he walked out of the room, leaving the couple alone once more.

"You should try and get some rest," she told him lovingly, having noticed his drooping eyes.

He looked unsurely at her, "W-will you-?" It was all he was able to say before she interrupted him reassuringly.

"I'll stay right here, Marty. You just try and get some rest and I'll be right here, when you wake up."

She leaned over him and placed a tender kiss to his burning forehead, reminding her that although the antibiotics the doctor had given him had caused the fever to subside, it still wasn't completely gone yet.

His hand still firmly grasping his girlfriend's, tethering him to what little safety he felt he had, Deeks closed his eyes, unable to keep his heavy eyelids from shutting. Soon he went into restless sleep once more.

...

The two senior agents walked into the Ops Center, having followed their operations manager's silent order. Before the automatic doors even had a chance to close, Callen spoke.

"Have you got anything on Troyger's location?"

"Nothing new, I'm sorry," the technical operator answered dejectedly. "I have, however, gotten his picture out to all local bus stations, train stations, airports, and border control. If he tries to make a run for it, we'll know," Eric assured his colleagues.

"Alright, well if you find something-"

"You'll be the first to know," the tall blond finished the lead agent's sentence.

Callen and Sam turned and started walking out the room, just as they were about to exit, the intelligence analyst spoke up. "Wait up guys," she called in her high-pitched voice. "I've just got a hit on facial rec from the guy Troyger was driving with." She told them, bringing up the file on the man onto the big screen. "His name is Marcel Galvan, he's got a felony charge for aggravated assault along with some other more minor stuff. He was released two months ago on parole, but surprise, surprise…he's missed his last check in with his parole officer."

"Address?" Sam questioned, after a small break allowing her to catch her breath.

"No last known address, I can send you the one for his parole officer if you'd like?" She asked.

"Do it," Callen told her. "We'll stop by there on our way to the hospital, hopefully Deeks is up for answering some questions."

...

He had barely slept for an hour, when she saw his features change from the nightmare. His face morphed into one of pained expressions, and his face was quickly covered in a thin sheen of sweat, dampening his bangs of golden hair. His rhythmical breathing turned ragged as if he couldn't get enough oxygen, as his whole body started to shiver.

Kensi tried rousing him from his sleep. "It's okay, Marty. It's just a dream. Wake up for me, baby," she told the man in her own wavering voice, but he was too far emerged in the terrors of the nightmare to register her soothing voice.

Suddenly, Deeks let out a blood-curling scream, waking himself up in the process. While still out of breath, he fearfully searched the room for his tormentors, dreading he might see the nasty features of Scarface once again. He shook at the thought, an uncontrollable shiver that he couldn't stop.

The gut-wrenching scream from her injured boyfriend caused the tears to fall once more. She instantly looked at the man, who had awoken himself by the pained outcry.

He jumped, when he felt the touch of someone on his cheek, "Shh…it's alright Marty, no one is going to hurt you. It's just you and me in here."

Before he had time to react to the soothing, silky voice, the door flung open, a nearby nurse who had heard the scream and had come rushing to aid the patient. Despite her good intentions, she only worsened the situation, since the sound of the door slamming open caused Deeks to quiver in fear. He closed his eyes painfully shut. "I-I'm sorry. I'm sorry," he told the intruder, fear clearly evident in his voice, as he tried to hide beneath the thin cloth that covered his chest.

If looks could kill, the young nurse would be lying dead on the floor if Kensi's glare were anything to go by. The young woman instantly stopped her movement, upon seeing the look she received for her non-elegant entrance.

"Is everything okay?" She asked.

"What do you think?" The female agent snapped at the nurse, causing her boyfriend to whimper at the harsh voice. "I'm so sorry Marty, I'm not angry at you I promise, okay? No one is going to hurt you, I'm right here, baby." She tried comforting her boyfriend, instantly forgetting the presence of the nurse. She kept caressing his cheek, which was under the sheet, as she had previously, but even that combined with her most non-confrontational voice didn't seem to make it through to the man.

"Please look at me Marty," she tried a different tactic. "You know who I am, right?"

He slowly dared removing a bit of the sheet he had pulled above his head, revealing two fearful eyes, albeit only one of them he could use currently, seeing as the other was completely swollen shut. The usual glimmer of mischief was substituted with a darkened fearful expression, bloodshot from the day's crying and hurt.

"You know who I am, Marty." She told him lovingly, "You know I would never hurt you, right?" She then asked hopefully.

She saw a timid nod from the shaking form, "That's good…then you also know that I would never let someone else hurt you whilst I'm here, right?"

She received another small nod of confirmation.

"Good," she told him, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead, suddenly she was filled with a certain need. "Can I, uhm…is it okay if I hug you?" She wanted to ask before doing it, since he seemed to have immense problems with body contact, and as such, she felt like a hug could be a terrifying aspect for him.

He nodded a bit more sturdily at her, "Y-yeah." He told her, pushing himself up slightly, to get into a position to be comforted.

When he was done moving, she went in for the hug. At first it was timid as she was afraid of hurting his bruised and cracked ribs, but soon he was clinging to her as if his life depended on it. She felt his chest heaving against her and combined with feeling her shirt slowly dampening, she knew he was sobbing. The sobbing quickly turned into full-blown crying, as the floodgates opened, finally allowing himself to let out all the pain and anguish he had suppressed.

"I've got you," she whispered to him over and over again, as she let him cry out in the safety of her arms.

When the crying subsided to sniffles, she took a deep breath and with tear-filled eyes told him, "I love you so, so much Marty."

Upon hearing those three words, he parted slightly, finally allowing himself to look into her beautifully mismatched eyes. She saw his look tainted with disbelief before it lit up with a mix of recognition and comfort. "I-I love you t-too," he told her before snuggling back into her warm embrace, cocooning him from all the dread that had surrounded him.

Soon, she felt his breathing even out and she knew he had fallen asleep in the awkward posture. She tenderly laid him on his back, in order to not further antagonize his injured midsection. Sitting back in the uncomfortable chair, she went back to holding his hand, drawing comforting circles, while she watched the man she loved sleep.

She felt her eyelids become heavier as she suppressed yet another yawn. The emotionally draining day had taken its toll on the female agent, and the hour was late. Reasoning that she would be awoken by any of her boyfriend's movements, she leaned forward and carefully placed her head on their combined hands, making sure she didn't wake him up, before she, herself, slowly drifted into restless sleep.

...

Because of the late hour, they had called ahead to arrange the meeting with Marvel Galvan's parole officer. The meeting unfortunately hadn't yielded anything, as the older man hadn't had any information pertinent to Galvan's whereabouts. He did, however, mention a local bar that the felon seemed to frequent, but other than that he was of no help.

The small bar was only a short detour from the route to the hospital, and as such, the two senior agents decided to make a stop. The owner was working behind the bar and easily recognized the picture of the culprit, but told the agents that he hadn't seen him for the past two weeks, which coincided with the information they had gotten from the parole officer. Disappointed at the lack of progress, the two agents left their card and told the owner to give them a call if he saw Galvan before they headed towards the hospital.

...

It was just past midnight when they finally arrived at Cedars-Senai Medical Center. Both of the agents were starting to feel the signs of fatigue and were combatting that with the large Styrofoam cups, containing black goodness, which they had picked up on the way there. They had brought an extra cup, since both men knew how notoriously bad hospital coffee was, and were certain their colleague would appreciate the caffeine.

They passed the reception area with a nod to the secretary behind it, they already knew where they were going, having received a text from Kensi earlier stating, which room they were in. The agents made their way to the large elevator and Callen pressed the button for the sixth floor since the larger agent had both his hands full.

The short ride up was silent, both men's thoughts wandered to the man they had rescued in that God-forsaken warehouse earlier in the evening. They had catalogued everything in their minds. His bruises, the welts, and the burn marks, were no doubt a painful and terrible experience, but they couldn't seem to shake the thought that the waterboarding and that damn box had been the ultimate downfall of the detective's mental state.

Sam's thoughts wandered to the time he had been buried alive alongside a fellow SEAL. He remembered the panic and claustrophobia, he had felt during the horrid experience. Having lost his friend as they were laying next to each other was still something that heavied his mind from time to time. The retired Navy-SEAL couldn't stop drawing parallels between that experience and the wooden torture chamber Deeks had been exposed to, the mere thought sending a chill down his spine.

Callen, too, was thinking back to previous experiences. The time where he was waterboarded at the hands of Nate and the fiend of a woman, whose name he had forgotten. Even though he had acted nonchalantly during the whole ordeal, he had still felt freight, and that was despite him having been convinced that Nate was on his side, that he had had an ally right next to him, even though the operational psychologist wasn't acting like it. Deeks hadn't had that, he thought, sighing inwardly as new pain at the thought of his friend surged to the front of his mind again.

When they reached the door, both agents had sobering expressions plastered on their faces. Dreading what sight would meet them inside the room, what state of mind the loveable detective was in, the team leader took a deep breath before he opened the door.