After the conversation with Hetty on the beach, Marty drove back to the Ops Center as fast as he dared, playing out different apologies in his head.
"I was so stupid, Kens…" She already knew that. He wouldn't do anyone any good by saying that.
"Look Kensi, I really care about you…" Now there was a sure way to get hit again. Not to mention lose a job.
A horn blared, and Marty was jerked violently back to the present as he realized he had nearly hit another car. He sucked in a breath and managed an apologetic wave at the furiously gesturing driver before pulling into a relatively quiet parking lot and turning off the car. He ran his hands through his shaggy hair, fighting the urge to just give up and drive back to the beach for good. Why should Kensi have to put up with him when there were dozens of excellent partners who knew how to actually respect her? There were dozens of agents who knew not to get too close, like he had.
No. He owed Kensi at least an apology and an explanation. Let her decide if she wanted him back.
As a partner. Only a partner. Nothing more.
Marty ground his teeth at the thought as he started the engine once more and drove off.
…..
When he arrived at the Mission, Marty could have cut the tension with his knife. Even people he didn't know gave him wide-eyed stares and scurried in a wide circle around him as if they expected him to turn into a monster at any second. Great. Now his stupidity would be the center of gossip for weeks, months maybe. Marty hefted his bag higher and determinedly ignored the dozens of eyes following him as he stalked his way into the bullpen.
"Kensi, I-" He clapped his mouth shut, realizing she wasn't there. Her chair was empty, her workplace untouched. Only Sam and Callen were present, both writing, both faces arranged in a strangely neutral expression. A lump the size of a golfball started forming in his throat.
"Is… is Kensi in the gym?" he asked the two men quietly, trying desperately to act like it was just a normal day, a normal question. The two agents looked up as if they had just noticed his presence, but a stormy look that passed through both of their faces before the same curiously neutral expression returned. Looking at their angry eyes, Marty wondered if he should stay, or if he should try running for his life. Before he could consider either option, however, both Sam and Callen blocked the entrance to the bullpen.
"Haven't seen her since you two fought." Sam growled. Callen just shook his head when Marty turned to look at him.
"She left just after you took off, Deeks. Said she needed to go somewhere to think." G's eyes bored straight into Marty as if the senior agent could see right through the detective's soul.
The boathouse. Kensi's favorite "hidey hole". He had found her there a few years ago after a particularly 'rough case that had hit too close to home for his partner. The memory came unbidden- Kensi, swirling one foot in turquoise waters, her hair up in the tight, practical ponytail she used for tactical missions. She could have been a heartbroken teenager morning the loss of a boyfriend had it not been for the Kevlar vest blazoned with the "NCIS" logo and a splash of the killer's blood splattered across her left shoulder.
At least she had kept her sniper rifle in her car.
Marty's wandering mind was sharply brought back to the present when a heavy hand descended onto his shoulder, startling him. He looked up into Sam's dark, stormy eyes and saw a barely suppressed anger simmering there- anger that sent shivers down Marty's spine. He backed up as far as Sam's clenching hand would allow.
"Find. Her. Find her and fix this damn mess you got your ass into, or I'll break every damned bone in your body and sink it in the Mariana Trench." Marty winced even more as Sam's fingers dug in deep and managed a nod in reply. The burly former SEAL shoved him to the entrance of the bullpen. Callen got up to stand by his partner and the two men crossed their arms over their chests, glaring at Marty as he slunk once more out of the Mission.
...
When he pulled up to the boatshed, Marty couldn't have been more relived than he was the moment he spotted Kensi's silver SRX parked in front of the boathouse. He pulled up next to the Cadillac, got out, and acting on instinct, placed his palm on the hood while checking the car's interior. He couldn't see anyone inside, and the hood had only the faintest trace of heat- Kensi had been at the boathouse for a while- at least an hour and a half if she had left right after their argument. As Marty turned away, he noticed a pair of skid marks next to the SRX as if someone had pulled away in a hurry. For some reason, this made the hairs on the back of Marty's neck stand up, and without fully knowing why, he drew his gun partially from its holster and cautiously stepped forward, following the wall of the boathouse to the rear of the building.
By the time he had approached the corner when the side met the back, Marty had his Smith & Wesson 5944 pulled fully from its holster and had moved into a defensive crouch. Something was off- he knew it. Slowing his steps, Marty took as much of a calming breath as he could, and then he swung around the corner, his gun pointed.
Nothing.
Marty didn't realize he had been holding his breath until it came out in a heavy whoosh. Creeping forward, heel-first as he had been trained to do, Marty eased his way to the opposite wall of the building, making sure to stay below the windows in case a hostile was inside the boathouse. Halfway to the opposite wall, something glinted in the corner of Marty's vision. He turned and saw something gold and black half-hidden in a notch between the dock and the wall. Hoping, praying it wasn't what he thought it was, Marty used the toe of his boot to ease the object out, and his heart sank. It was a NCIS badge- Kensi's badge, and lying next to it was a broken-off hypodermic needle.
His heartbeat pounding in his ears, Marty whirled like a trapped animal, kicking open the back door of the boathouse and rushing in. He didn't care that the boathouse could easily hide numerous assailants. All that mattered was finding Kensi, finding her so that his greatest fear couldn't come through. He searched the boathouse top to bottom, checking every possible nook and cranny, his rage and despair growing with each empty area. Just as he was about to go back outside to re-trace every inch of the boathouse, Marty caught sight of a folded piece of paper caught in the wreckage of the back door, likely slipped there before he had crashed through- he just hadn't noticed it in his rush to find Kensi.
With shaking fingers, Marty prized the paper loose and unfolded it. The paper itself was unremarkable, a sheet of printer paper that could be found just about anywhere, from offices to local stores. Taped to the paper was a Polaroid photo. Marty's blood froze when he saw what was captured in the photograph. Kensi, clearly unconscious, was lying on the dock boards, blood running from a cut on her forehead. The three words below the photograph, however, made Marty fall to his knees.
"She's mine now."
It was signed with a single letter- "N".
Marty had his smart phone out and was speed-dialing Callen's number before he had even taken a breath. Callen answered on the second ring.
"Deeks, did you-"
"Nikolai's got her G. That bastard's got Kensi!"
…..
Exactly ten minutes later, Sam's Dodge Challenger roared into the boathouse parking lot, tires squealing. Before the car had even come to a complete stop, Callen had opened the passenger's side door and leapt out, landing smoothly and marching swiftly towards where Marty was sitting. Once the engine had been turned off, Sam was out of the car, following only a few steps behind his partner. Both men strode purposefully to where Marty sat- immobile and silent. The detective hadn't moved from the front door step for the ten minutes it took between his call and their arrival. He knew that he couldn't go back inside- he would have lost any shred of control he had left and likely would have destroyed the only evidence the team had.
Callen was the first to reach Marty.
"Show us" he ordered.
The detective rose automatically, leading the two men to where he had dropped the paper and the photo, as well as Kensi's badge and the broken hypodermic needle, which he had carefully placed on the table with the other evidence before getting out of the boathouse.
Sam and Callen donned crime scene gloves and made quick work of the evidence. Neither spoke much, other than to ask Marty questions about what, when, where and how he found everything. At first, he was happy to not have to explain, just to give facts, but then it started to dawn on him what had really happened.
This wasn't just any crime scene- it was Kensi's crime scene for God's sake! His partner, Sam and Callen's team member, on NCIS territory no less! It was just too much; Marty rushed out of the boathouse back to the dock where he had found Kensi's badge and the broken needle.
As he faced the waves that normally brought him calm, a tear slipped down Marty's cheek. How could he have let this happen to her? Nikolai was out there right now with Kensi, doing God-knows-what with her. Gruesome images of gang rape and torture filled Marty's unwilling mind, accompanied by the countless mangled and bloody corpses he had seen, with Kensi's face superimposed on each body. It was such an overwhelming mental onslaught that the detective dropped to his hands and knees and an agonized howl was forced from the depths of his being.
Marty slammed his fists into the dock. The stinging pain of his flesh striking hard wood only served to add to his fury. Over and over he drove his fist into the boards of the dock, ignoring the gashes that ripped open with each blow and the blood that streamed to stain the wood below.
He raised his bloody fists yet again, but this time a pair of hands closed like iron cuffs around his wrists and held him back. Marty screamed in fury, curses spewing out of his mouth like a bursting dam. Sam's voice yelled incomprehensible words in his ear, but all Marty could think about were the six words he started to scream over and over.
"Let me go! I failed her! Let me go-"
"I'm sorry Deeks." Sam's voice had taken a break from its usual loud and boisterous tone and had switched to a startlingly soft and gentle tone. Before Marty could process anything more, however, there was a sharp blow to the side of his head and his vision went completely dark.
His last conscious thought was Kensi!
Again, so sorry for the wait! I keep trying!
Uh-oh, what's going to happen with Marty now? :) You'll have to see!
Please review!
Yeah, sure, you becha!
