Author's Note - once again, thanks for the kind words. Please continue letting me know what you think.
Of note, all typos and weird syntax errors are mine, the characters (aside from the horrible bad guys) are not. Please be forewarned that this chapter involves severe violence, crude language and a brief non-graphic sexual situation.
"This is the part," Kensi says softly, her voice cracking just a bit (whether from stress, pain, exhaustion, a mixture of all or something else entirely, he's not completely sure). "When everything starts to get a bit weird for me."
"I know," Nate replies, compassion in his tone. It's almost too much for her, though, because she can't help but see it as pity. And God how she hates pity.
"No, you don't. It's….I don't know." She shakes her head, and when she does, the room goes hazy and gray for a few seconds.
"Kensi," Nate prompts, when she's been quiet for too long. She seems a bit unfocused, and for a long moment, as he waits for her to return to her senses, he considers getting a doctor.
Reluctantly, though, he pushes away the idea for the time being. He's seen the full medical reports; he knows that among many injuries, her worst by far is the severe head injury that she'd suffered. He knows that everyone is still very worried about it, but he also knows that time for Deeks is likely running out, which means that every bit of info that Kensi can provide is crucial right now.
"I can remember bits and pieces," she finally continues, blinking several times as if to clear up her vision. There's a strange almost lazy sounding kind of drawl to her voice. "But even those feel like I'm watching them through a pane of glass."
"Just go slow, Kensi," he urges, wishing like hell that he could just get up, blow off the questioning and find her someone to make her feel better. He knows better, though. So, instead, "I'll be here every step of the way."
She laughs.
He tilts his head slightly, surprised by her reaction. "What?"
"It's just…people always say that, you know. They say that they'll always be there, that they'll never go away. They even promise it. They say 'you can count on me, don't worry, I won't leave, and if I do, I'll always come back for you.' But we know the truth, don't we, Nate? We know what this life is like. It'll take all of us eventually." She looks up at him with sadness in her eyes. "Even you."
"Me?"
"You. Hetty pulled you into the life. Now you're part of it. Before that, you were safe, and we all got some peace out of knowing that. Now, everything's different. Now, we all think the same thing we think about each other; one morning we're going to get a call saying that you died on a table last night in some God forsaken town in the Middle East or maybe in a warehouse or…"
"Stop," he pleads, and neither of them are completely sure if he's asking her to stop because he hates seeing her in this kind of mental torment or because her words are striking just a bit too close to home for him.
"Why? We both know it's the truth. And I almost did. Die in a warehouse, I mean. Can you believe that?" She laughs bitterly. "Last thing I ever wanted. I always figured that when I go out, it's going to be on my feet, and because some son of a bitch gets a lucky shot in. I always hoped that I'd die fighting. But that's not how it almost went. Nate, I almost died of a heroin overdose on the floor of a place that used to be a porn studio."
"Kensi, why are you doing this to yourself?"
"Doing what?"
"Talking about death like this. Acting like it's okay if you die. For all the fear you have about getting the call about someone else, you must know that everyone else has the same fear about you."
"I do," she replies. "I just…he can't..."
Nate reaches out and takes her hand, squeezing it tight. "We're almost through this," he tells her.
"And when we're done, when you guys know every part of this awful story, will that make it easier to find him?"
"It might."
She smiles then and laughs. "You know I'm still not going to tell you what happened in the bathroom, right?"
She'd expected him to respond in kind with a smile and a chuckle (anything to lighten the suddenly darkly oppressive mood in the room), but he doesn't. Instead, his voice very serious, Nate replies, "But I'm here if you want to."
"Sure. Until you leave again in a few days."
"I'm sorry," he says, and she can see just how much he truly is in his eyes. He doesn't want to be leaving anymore than she wants him to be. "I'm so sorry. There's nowhere else I'd rather be than here with you, helping you through this. I hope you know that. I hope you believe me."
"Nate, that's not…that's not what I meant. Of course, I believe you. I know you don't want to go and I know you have a job to do. It's just…I'm feeling a bit out of sorts right now, and I guess it's making me needy. I hate this. I hate it. I hate it."
"I know, and if I thought telling you that it's okay to be needy from time to time would actually help you realize that what you're feeling isn't unusual and doesn't make you at all weak, then I'd give it a go, but since you're still the same Kensi that you've always been, I'm probably wasting my time, huh?"
"Subtle, Nate."
He smirks. Then, his expression growing somber, "You think you're ready now?"
"I suppose I'd better be."
"We're almost done," he assures her. "Then you can rest."
"Just as long as I wake up," she whispers, and for the brief moment before she closes her eyes to stop tears from leaking from them, he sees fear there.
"You will. You're safe, and you're going to be okay." He squeezes her hand.
"I wish I could take comfort in that, but as long as he's out there…"
"I know."
She smiles at him, a bit sadly. "I'm really going to miss you when you leave."
"I'll miss you, too."
She takes a deep breath, adjusting herself slightly, wincing in pain as she does so. "You know what I remember most about the trip to the warehouse? It seems like it took forever to get there. It was just across town, but they took us on this weird route up through the canyons. I think maybe they knew that my ribs were hurting and they wanted to make it worse. They did."
She almost gasps as the car hits another massive rock in the road, causing the vehicle to tilt and then jump again. She feels a sharp burst of pain shoot like a rocket through her ribcage. It takes everything she has – including biting her lip – to keep from crying out. Aside from prideful reasons, she needn't have bothered; Sanchez gets his sickly perverse satisfaction anyway.
"Your girl looks like she's about to pass out, Deeks," Sanchez taunts from his position in the front seat. "And here I thought she was tougher than that."
Before Deeks can reply, Kensi – stubborn as always and not about to ever back down to a piece of garbage like Paul Sanchez – grits out, "I'm good to go."
She'd been about to say, "I'm fine", but had decided against it simply because Deeks seems to believe that those words are code for the exact opposite. In this case, he'd be right, but she's not about to let anybody know that.
Sanchez laughs, "She is a feisty one, isn't she?" Then, his face grows very angry, and he continues, his voice suddenly hard, "I don't like feisty women who don't know where they belong, and whom they belong to."
"I don't belong to anyone," she snaps back, teeth clenched tightly as another wave of pain crashes through her. She doesn't think any of her ribs are completely broken, but there's a possibility that at least one is cracked. And dammit if cracked doesn't hurt just as much as broken when you get down to it.
"Funny, your boyfriend over there made it pretty fucking clear to me on more than one occasion that you belong to him, didn't you, Deeks?"
"We're not playing your games," Deeks replies, glancing over to Kensi. He's met not by an expected look of irritation, but rather a weary sort of half-smile on her face. Almost like even though it kind of annoys her what he'd told Sanchez about them, she hadn't expected any different.
"That's fine. You don't have to play my games, but you will play his. She already has," Sanchez says, smirking as he lets his eyes sweep lewdly over Kensi's frame. To her credit, she doesn't so much as shift an inch beneath his perverse gaze, she just stares right back at him. To Deeks, Sanchez finally says, his voice dripping with anger and hatred, "Now it's your turn."
At that moment, the car skids and hops again, and this time, she's unable to stop herself from hissing in pain. She inhales sharply, trying to focus her breathing.
She puts her head down, and tries to ignore the fact that both Deeks and Sanchez are watching her again, albeit clearly for entirely different reasons.
"That hurt?" Sanchez asks, sounding almost curious.
"Not as much as you're going to hurt when I get loose long enough to rip off your balls and shove them down your throat," she shoots back between tightly clenched teeth.
At that moment, the car comes to a stop. She glances out the window, and sees that they're parked in front of a massive warehouse. It matches the description of the one that Deeks has visited several times. She looks at him, and he nods, confirming her worst fears; they've been brought right to Kassel's playhouse.
As if knowing exactly what she's thinking, Sanchez says, "You ain't never gonna have the chance, bitch. We're here. I hope you're ready to die."
They're yanked out of the car and then shoved – still cuffed and at gunpoint - down the long hallway that Deeks has walked several times over the last few weeks. He's not at all surprised when they're forced into the weird room that best resembles a whips and chain style porn dungeon.
He exchanges a wary look with Kensi – both of them realizing that if they allow themselves to get chained to the wall by Alejandro (they're not terribly sure where Sanchez disappeared off to – probably to get Kassel, Deeks figures), they're not making it out of this building alive.
Deeks offers her a sad smile. She returns a smirk. He almost laughs. And then he says a silent prayer of thanks to whatever God is listening for her stubborn refusal to ever give up no matter how long the odds stacked against her are.
The moment Alejandro uncuffs her hands (ironically so that he can chain her to the wall), she makes her move. A hard elbow into his side, a foot to the groin and then a left to the jaw. It all happens so quickly, almost in a blur of insane motion.
It occurs to Deeks that this is the second time today that Kensi has brought Alejandro to his knees. For a moment, he considers reminding the downed thug of that fact, but a quick look around the room reminds him of the dire nature of the situation that they're in. That and the fact that he's still cuffed.
Thankfully, Kensi plans to take care of that problem right away. Once Alejandro is down on the ground, curled in the fetal position and whimpering in pain, she's up and in front of Deeks within seconds, her nimble fingers working on his cuffs, using a paperclip that she'd had attached to the inside of her watch band.
"That was amazing," he says, his voice full of awe. "You are…amazing."
"Thank you," she smiles, returning the open affection. Then, growing serious, "But save it until we're out of here."
"Right. I figure we got a lot to talk about then," he nods.
She laughs. "Seriously, Deeks? We're trying to escape an insane kingpin who probably wants to skin us alive and you want to talk about last night?"
"We're going to have deal with everything that's happened is all I'm saying." He tries to keep his voice light and a bit flip, but there's an undercurrent of raw honesty in his tone. He's not just talking about last night. He's talking about today, yesterday and the last several weeks. Everything. All of it.
"I think I prefer never serious Deeks," she quips as she releases his cuffs.
"No, you don't," he replies, dropping the cuffs to the ground. Then, looking at the paperclip she's still holding between her fingers. "Let me guess, tradecraft?"
"Yup. Never go anywhere without it. Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to get the hell out of here. This mission is officially over."
"On that, Partner, you and I are in full agreement."
"About damn time," she replies, turning away from him.
"Kensi!" he calls out, just before she feels the impact of a gun right to the face. The hard barrel of it clips off the right side of her jaw, the metal splicing into her skin, but thankfully, not cracking the bone.
She cries out, and falls immediately to her knees, feeling the burn of her ribs as she does so. Thus far, this has not been one of her better days.
"I like you there," Sanchez leers. "On your knees. Where you belong."
She tries to lift her head, determined not to allow him to think that he's beaten her down, but the blood spilling down her cheek, and the nausea that sweeps through her keeps her hunched over on the ground.
A moment later, she feels hands around her, then strong muscular arms, and immediately, she knows that Deeks is next to her, holding her.
It's incredibly intimate kind of half-embrace, and yet it doesn't feel at all wrong for them at this moment in time. Certainly, a strange realization for both of them.
"Marty," she whispers. It just about breaks his heart. This is only the second time since he's known her that she's called him that; the first time had occurred the night before, and that had been during an extreme moment of emotion for her.
For both of them really.
That's she doing it now? It tells him everything he needs to know about just how bad their current situation is.
"I'm here," he tells her, tightening his hold around her. He intends to have to be yanked away from her. Ideally with obscene and possibly even deadly force.
"I'll be damned," a cold voice says from behind Sanchez. "Paul was actually right, you two kids are not only cops, but you're also a couple. Fascinating."
Gathering all of her remaining strength together, Kensi forces herself to look up and into the eyes of Christopher Kassel. He's in the doorway of the room, dressed in tan slacks and a white dress shirt, hands tucked casually into his pockets, looking almost like he's just come back from a country club outing.
"Jimmy," he says, looking at Deeks. "Or I guess your real name is supposedly Detective Marty Deeks. Disappointing, very disappointing, son."
"Yeah, well, get in line," Deeks replies, a hint of exhaustion in his voice. "The disappointment train for me is very long."
"Oh, no, don't worry about that, Detective, there's no more lines for you."
"Why? Because you're going to kill us today?"
Kassel's only response is a soft chuckle. He looks down at Alejandro. "Get up and stop whining like a woman on the ground." His eyes flicker over towards Kensi when he says that. Again, she stares back at him, anger flushing her face.
Slowly, the big thug stands up, a bruise already blossoming on his face. "Sorry, Boss," he mutters even as he winces in pain, his groin clearly still hurting.
"Save it for later. For now, please chain Agent Blye up," Kassel says simply. "Paul, I think you're going to need to restrain the Detective. I don't believe he's going to allow us to get to her." He seems almost amused by this.
Both men move immediately to respond to Kassel's orders. Sanchez gets behind Deeks and yanks at his arms. For a brief moment, Deeks just holds on to Kensi as tight as he can, knowing that if he fights back even a little bit, it will force him to have to let go of her. His resistance is short-lived and futile, though, because standing up, Sanchez has far more leverage and force than he does.
He feels himself get yanked away from her, and it feels a bit like a vital organ is being ripped out of his chest. He cries out for her, his voice breaking.
"Deeks," she calls back as Alejandro pulls her to her feet. She struggles against him, but he's much bigger and he's holding her in a way that doesn't expose his soft and vulnerable spots to her. That and the pain from her ribs and her jaw is still intense, causing her to feel as though she's grappling for solid ground.
The next thing she feels is her back slam up against the wall, and while she's trying to shake the sudden stars away, she feels thick icy cold metal cuffs get snapped around her wrists. Alejandro leaves her feet unbound, but she realizes almost immediately that there's very little to gain from that.
Yes, she could probably knock one of them clean out with a swift hard kick, maybe even shatter a bone or two, but then what? Thanks to the fact that she'd lost possession of the paperclip on her tumble to the ground after being slugged by Sanchez, she has nothing immediately available to her to be able to pick the lock, and with all of the mob guys nearby, it's not like she'd be given the opportunity to do so anyway.
So instead, she watches in mute horror as Deeks and Sanchez fight, Deeks holding his own until a gun is pressed against the back of his head.
"Just stop," Kassel says. "No more struggling or I'll turn this gun around and shoot your partner right in the hip. You think that'll hurt, Detective? Because I'm pretty damn sure that it will."
"Deeks," she pleads, and for the second time that day, he's not sure if she's asking him to start or stop doing something. Either way, he simply, quite numbly, holds up his hands in surrender.
He's as certain as he's ever been in his life that this means the end for both of them, but on the possibility that the team had received the Agent in Distress alert that she'd sent out (then hiding the phone away – and still powered on - in the back pocket of her jeans), he decides to give them – give her – at least a fighting chance to survive.
Just stay alive long enough for the Calvary, that has to be the goal going forward.
A moment later, when Sanchez buries a fist into his gut, he's rethinking his decision. Three more hard hits, and he's down on his knees. He hears Kensi call out for him again, but for the moment, all he feels is the agony of the beating. Fists and feet connect with him, driving him even closer to the ground.
Once he's down, practically lying flat, he feels Sanchez lean over him, coming close enough for him to be able to taste the tobacco on his breath. "How you liking your situation now, Detective? How do you like your power now?"
"How do you like yours?" Deeks answers as he spits out a mouthful of blood. "Nothing but a little bitch."
His words are rewarded with a hard punch directly to the face. "Yeah? Call me a bitch again. Come on. I'll show you who the real bitch is."
"Deeks," Kensi urges, and this time he's certain that she's telling him to stop. It's ironic really because he's usually the one telling her not to throw back so much attitude when the bad guys are already pissed off.
"Listen to your woman, Deeks, she wants to keep you pretty," Sanchez says before adding, "Shame I don't care." And then with a hard downward thrust, he slams his elbow against the back of Deeks' skull. He feels a burst of bright white pain, but thankfully (or maybe not, he muses), manages to stay conscious.
"Enough, Paul," Kassel says. Put him next to Agent Blye."
Reluctantly, Sanchez reaches down, grabs Deeks by the collar and pulls him up. He slams him against the wall next to Kensi and clamps the cuffs down. "No more fight in you, huh, Deeks?"
"Just give me a minute to catch my breath," Deeks gasps out, still trying to blink away the pain. He can tell that Kensi is looking at him, her eyes full of concern.
Sanchez just laughs and walks back over to where Kassel and Alejandro are.
"So now what?" Kensi asks.
"Now I get to kill you," Sanchez sneers. "Slowly."
"That's a really bad idea," Deeks says suddenly, his voice oddly high. "I mean, these two are idiots, but Kassel, you must know that killing a Federal agent is the kind of attention you don't want."
"Are you bartering for her life, Detective?" Kassel queries.
"Yes," he says immediately, ignoring the hard glare that she throws his way. He thinks back to a time not too far in the past, another time when he'd try to convince maniacs to let his partner go.
That time had ended with her nearly being blown to pieces inside a room full of lasers. He's understandably hoping for a bit less drama this time.
No near-death experiences preferred.
"And tell me, what are you offering?"
"Just myself. Let her go, and make me pay. I'm the one who betrayed you."
"True."
"Deeks, shut up."
He ignores her, eyes on Kassel. "I'm just a cop – no one will care if I live or die. No one cares now. But she's a Fed. You hurt her, you kill her, and they will come after you with the full force of every ABC agency there is. You know they will. Let her go, and do what you want with me."
"Deeks, no," she hisses.
"I don't think your woman likes that idea," Kassel notes with amusement.
"Who cares what she thinks. She's just a woman," Deeks insists, his words nearly falling over each other. His plan is simply if inelegant; he's trying to play off what he's learned about Kassel over the last four weeks, trying to use the knowledge of the man as a misogynistic bastard who thinks of women as little more than possessions and sexual toys.
He's wasting his time.
"I think you're wrong, Detective," Kassel states. "Your partner…" he steps close to her, and places a hand on her cheek, grinning when she pulls her face away from him. "…she's far more interesting than most women. But then, I think you already know that, don't you?"
In that moment, Deeks almost wants to curse the very thing that he adores about Kensi the most; that there's no other woman in the world quite like her. Apparently, Kassel has noticed it as well – which is very bad luck for them.
"She puts up a good front," he says, and now he's pretty much desperate. "But in the end, she's just like every woman. Vapid, silly, and far too into shoes and makeup and hair and…"
"Deeks," she says once again.
He ignores her, on a collision course to get her the hell out of here or to fail miserably. They both know which one is going to happen, but it's almost like he can't stop himself from throwing up last frantic Hail Mary pass on her behalf.
"I'm just saying, if you think you'll get some kind of satisfaction out of breaking her, you're wrong. She'll fold almost immediately. And then they'll come for you because that's what the Feds do – they always protect their own, especially the weak ones…the women. You don't want that attention. You don't."
Kassel chuckles, then reaches out and grabs Kensi's face, roughly forcing her to look at him. "Tell me, my dear sweet girl, is he right? Are you that weak?"
"Fuck you," she snaps back, eyes blazing even as she feels the pain of his fingers pressing against her now swollen jaw.
"That's what I thought."
She turns her head slightly, and stares at her partner. He looks crushed by her inability to play along if only for a minute.
It annoys the shit out of her that he would ever think that she'd be okay with just walking away and allowing him to be tortured in her place.
It'd annoyed her with the Russians, and it really annoys her now. Does he really think that she could just go back to her life and not care what happens to him? Does he really believe that he means that little to her? Does he really not understand that he's as much a part of her now as she is of him?
He shakes his head slightly, clearly frustrated. She just glares at him.
"Oh, no, this doesn't look good at all for you two lovers," Kassel says. "And I'm afraid what's going to happen here isn't really going to help you out with the relationship problems you're clearly having. But before we get to that part - what I like to call the fun and games - I have a few questions for you. For starters, what was the point of your mission? Was I the target? Unfortunately, Paul here was a bit on unclear on the finer details. Fill them in for me if you would be so kind."
Neither Deeks nor Kensi says a word.
"Ah, the stubborn resistant law enforcement routine. I know this one well. Believe me, you two are hardly the first cops that I've come across and had to torture information out of. Though, I must admit, you're the first ones who were ever sent in after me. At least specifically. I suppose I should take that as a compliment."
Again, they both stay silent.
"Okay. Good, I was hoping you'd make it interesting. I presume you both know what pressure points are, yes?" He waits only a moment for a response that he knows he won't be getting, and then follows up with, "For the sake of our discussion today, let's view pressure points in a way that basically means, what would it take to get you two talking."
"You're wasting your time," Kensi says, her voice much calmer than she feels. "There isn't anything."
"Oh now, I don't believe that at all. See here's the thing, I could torture both of you, break every bone in your bodies, remove fingers, cut off limbs and basically disembowel you for my own viewing pleasure," Kassel notes in the same tone that one would use to order lunch from a fast food restaurant. "But, I suspect that both of you know how to withstand torture, and you're both stubborn enough to be able to do so for quite awhile. Which while certainly entertaining for me in the beginning, could get old – and messy - very quickly."
"Sorry to be such a pain in the ass," Deeks quips. He can feel an odd sort of calm coming over him, one he recognizes as resignation. Which means that his jokes are about to become of the gallows humor kind – unrelentingly dry and painful.
Kassel chuckles, but presses on. It's amazing how relaxed he seems, like he has no doubt that he's in complete control and that nobody can stop him.
He's probably right.
"Which brings us to the more important question, which is quite simply, what could I do to each of you to get your partner talking. I suspect that the pressure point for you, Detective is fairly obvious – rape."
Deeks can't help himself from shifting anxiously. He's simply not built to be able to not react to the idea of his partner – or any woman for that matter – being sexually assaulted by a sadistic maniac.
"Tell me, did it upset you to find out what she and I did last night?"
"Deeks," she whispers, as if urging him not to take the bait. It occurs to that aside from a single crude retort to Kassel, his name is just about the only thing she's said within the last fifteen minutes.
"Did you touch her after I did? Did you hold her in bed last night? The whole time you were with her, were you wondering what I'd done to her, where my hands had been?" Kassel presses, clearly enjoying the discomfort he sees in both Kensi and Deeks. It's clear to him that he's found a button to push.
"I'm going to kill you," Deeks says simply, his voice hard as steel. It's almost chilling to Kensi; in their entire time working together, she can only recall him using that voice one other time – with the son of a bitch cop who had been responsible for the murder of his last partner, Jess Traynor.
"And if right now, I had Paul here take her down from the wall, and I let him and Alejandro have their way with her, what would that do to you? Would it make you tell me everything I want to know to make it stop. I think it would."
"You'd be wrong," Kensi says sharply. "Because he knows I could handle it."
"Really? Should we test that theory then?"
"Go ahead," she challenges. She can tell that Deeks is looking at her, his expression one of mingled horror and shock. He has no idea what the hell she's up to, but he doesn't like it one bit.
Mostly because she's wrong, he couldn't just stand by and let her be assaulted by these animals. He couldn't let that happen to any woman, but especially not her. She means too much to him, and he has no intention of allowing her to be hurt if he can stop it.
He knows that makes him vulnerable, and maybe even weak, but right now, he doesn't give a damn.
"As you wish, my dear," Kassel nods. "Alejandro, bring her down. Make sure you put her right in front of Detective Deeks – I want him to see everything you do to his beloved. I want him to hear every single time she whimpers or cries out."
Kensi swallows hard, steeling herself. Her fists clench, and she prepares herself to try to attack Alejandro the moment the thug uncuffs her.
Fighting back is all she has left. If she loses that, then she might as well just give in. And Kensi Blye never gives in. So prepare herself she does. She's ready to strike, ready to cause pain, even if only briefly.
Her opportunity doesn't come.
At least not yet.
At that moment, a tall man that they've never seen before enters the room and motions for the others. He then steps outside the door, indicating that they should follow him out.
"Hold that thought, love," Kassel says smoothly. "We'll be right back."
They step out and into the hallway. The moment they're gone, Deeks snaps his head around towards her, blue eyes fiery with anger.
"What the fuck are you doing?" he demands, his voice trembling with barely repressed emotion.
"I can deal with this."
"I can't. Dammit, Kensi…"
"Deeks, you have to be brave here."
"Are you…are you kidding me? This isn't about bravery."
"No, it's about me, and that's a problem. For both of us."
"What do you want me to do here? Just let them hurt you?"
"Yes."
He stares at her with wide unbelieving eyes. "No…"
"We have a job to do," she insists.
"I don't give a damn about our job. I give a damn about you."
"No…no…you have to. You have…you have to be able to let me get hurt when the op demands it or we have no business being partners."
"That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard."
"Maybe, but it's what I need you to be right now – my partner, not my friend."
He laughs angrily, thinking about how much more than either partners or friends they are. "Even if I was just your partner, I wouldn't be able to stand here and let those…monsters do what they…I can't, Kensi, and I kind of hate that you would ever think I could."
"I'm sorry," she whispers, and he thinks maybe he sees wetness in her dark eyes. It reminds him of what he'd forgotten for just a moment; even as tough as she is, she's got to be scared out of mind right about now.
Because she has a pretty damned good idea what's going to happen to her when Kassel and his goons re-enter the room, and it's clear to Deeks that she doesn't really believe that she'll be able to fight them off.
Which means that she's operating under the same assumption he is, which is quite plainly that their only hope for survival now is to be rescued by the team.
They just have to live long enough for that to happen. Which means enduring any and every pain they have to in order to ensure that the clocks keeps ticking.
"What does it hurt to tell them who we're after?" Deeks asks, looking for an alternative to the torture path they seem to be on.
"Because that's not what we do. We don't break," she insists. "I don't break." He sees a tear spill down her cheek, and it just about destroys him.
In that moment, he knows for certain that he'll tell Kassel and his men whatever the hell they want if it means that they'll keep their filthy hands off of her. He doesn't give a damn about bravery, he only cares about her.
Perhaps that means that when this is all over, they'll have to face the fact that maybe they're too close now, and they'll have to end their partnership.
The idea guts him, but the thought of those men touching her and him just allowing it in order to keep Kassel from knowing that this case is really all about getting to his suppliers – something he figures even an egomaniac like Kassel should have already figured out for himself – hurts him in a way that he'd never believed humanly possible until this moment.
"Sorry about that," Kassel says, re-entering the room. "Just a small problem came up on one of our surveillance sensors. Nothing to worry about. At least it won't be in a moment."
And then he sweeps across the room, slams Kensi back against the wall and punches her. Once, twice, a third time.
Pain explodes in her face. From what sounds like a horrible distance, she thinks she can hear Deeks screaming her name.
She barely even notices that Kassel has uncuffed her. Released from the restraints, she falls to her knees, head down, blood flowing down her cheeks, and onto her shirt. The pressure in her face is massive, and even trying to lift her head up is enough to make her almost vomit.
It occurs to her that this is the second time since she's been in this awful room that she's been on the ground, hunched over in pain. She's getting just a little bit sick and tired of it by now.
"Get your hands off of her!" Deeks yells when he sees Kassel grab Kensi around the waist. He'd been expecting an attack, but not one by Kassel – this seems too barbaric for a man who seems to think he's above everyone else.
No, this man likes to hide his disgusting attacks behind the mask of it being a semi-consensual act. Down and dirty rape hardly seems to be his MO.
A moment later, Deeks understands what's going on, and it causes his stomach to lurch even more than it would have if this had just been a simple sexual attack.
He sees Kassel reach behind Kensi and jam his hand into the back pocket of her jeans, pulling out her cell phone, which is still on and still (hopefully) transmitting a GPS signal back to headquarters, back to Eric.
"Clever girl," he says, holding up the phone. He looks at it, punches the disconnect button, "Letting your team know that you need help." He tosses the cell to Sanchez, who is in the doorway with Alejandro. "Destroy it."
"With pleasure." Sanchez tosses the cell to the ground, and then slams his boot down into it, shattering the glass screen and cracking the aluminum casing. One more stomp and it snaps nearly in half.
"Looks like our timelines have changed," Kassel muses, his hand on Kensi's back. "So I'm afraid, the foreplay part of the evening is going to have to be cut short. That's a shame, I was really looking forward to finding out what I would have to do to the good Detective to get Agent Blye talking."
"You'd never have found out," she bites out, still unable to lift her head, but unwilling to let Kassel think he's beaten her down. Completely anyway.
"She just doesn't know when to quit, does she?" Kassel laughs, looking up at Deeks, who is still attached to the wall, his eyes wide and angry and fearful.
"No, she doesn't," Deeks replies, his eyes shooting furious laser beams at her. He wants to desperately to tell her to just shut up for a moment (as she had told him earlier). He wants to tell her to stop being so strong and stubborn and brave. Stop having to prove to the whole world that no one is as tough or as resilient.
He says none of that, though, because somehow it feels like telling her to be someone she isn't - for whatever reason - would be a horrible betrayal of her.
"It's a shame that you're on the side you're on, Agent Blye. You and I might have had a lot of fun with each other."
She chooses that moment to again lift her head. Only a sharp look from Deeks keeps her from shooting back what she'd really love to do to Kassel right about now. Instead, she simply stares at him.
Kassel smirks, and then turns to Sanchez, "Remove her from the room."
"No!" Deeks yells.
For her part, Kensi struggles mightily, but she's simply too hurt by now, and Sanchez is too strong. He reaches down, grabs her by the shirt and starts to drag her from the room. She tries to put her feet down (realizing how desperately she misses her heavy boots right about now) to stop his progress. She tries to thrash around, but that just makes him pull harder
She hears the fabric of her shirt tear, brisk air and cold ground slapping against her suddenly bare skin. "Deeks!"
"Boyfriend can't help you anymore, bitch," Sanchez laughs before he reaches down, takes a handful of her hair and yanks.
It's one of most painful things she's ever felt – it's like her scalp is literally being ripped out. She screams, her hands clawing at the ground as she's dragged out of the room, down a short hallway and then into a ghastly room of mirrors.
Callen drops himself down into the chair opposite Sanchez. It's been a horribly long day, and it's becoming harder and harder to keep the former soldier talking. He's in pain and exhausted, and any fun that he was having by telling them about what he'd done to Kensi and Deeks is long gone by now.
Everyone in the room just wants the conversation over.
"Okay, so Agent Blye was brought into the room with the mirrors. Deeks was left in the other one, right?"
Sanchez nods, and reaches for a glass of water, gulping it down in three swallows. He's already gone through at least a pitcher of water.
"Why were they separated?" Sam queries from his position against the far wall of the room. He's pretty sure that if he comes any closer, he'll tear Sanchez limb from limb, and he's not positive that Callen will stop him.
"Boss always had other plans for the good Detective, I think."
"What kind of plans?" Callen asks.
Sanchez shrugs. "No idea. Last I saw, the Kassel was just keeping him all doped up on the Prince Charming. Not really sure why. I'm not exactly in the inside circle anymore thanks to you guys."
Sam snorts derisively. "What about Kensi?"
"Kassel really wanted to do her bad. And I don't mean do her like that anymore. He wanted to break her in half and make her beg for her life."
Behind him, Callen hears Sam shift angrily, his well-muscled body tensing.
"But that didn't happen did it?"
"Nah, would have been better for her if it had. He probably would have hurt her less. All she had to do was beg once, say the word 'please', you know? But she wouldn't. Kassel was right; dumb bitch really doesn't know when to quit. And he made her pay for that. You know, I almost felt sorry for her." He shrugs then and a cruel smile ghosts over his lips. "Almost."
"Pick up from the room with the mirrors," Callen demands.
"You really want to hear all the nasty little details of that? You really want to know how he bashed in her head and how she bled all over the place? That's what you want? All right. Fine by me."
Sanchez just about throws her into the room. She lands on her stomach, her entire body in agony. For a long moment, she forgets where she is, and that she's being watched. She puts her head in her hands, and tries to collect herself, tries to pull herself together.
"Go watch the cop," Kassel says as he enters the room.
Sanchez hesitates for just a second, and then turns and leaves. Alejandro stays in the doorway, watching, his face twisted into a cruel smile.
"I must admit," Kassel says, coming over to her. "You two – you and Detective Deeks – well you actually fooled me. You two put on one hell of a show. You especially." He reaches out and touches her face, softly like a lover would. When she tries to pull away, he laughs. "Now, now, Kara…Agent Blye…Kensi. I presume I can call you that after all we've…shared."
She looks up at him, her dark eyes amazingly aware, and then suddenly, in a move he never would have seen coming, she spits at him.
His face registers surprise – she's guessing that no woman has ever dared to do that to him before. And then he laughs, a horrible sound. A moment later, she feels the force of his hand against her face. It cracks against her already horribly swollen jaw, throwing her towards the shadowy edge of unconsciousness. Only her force of will alone keeps her from blacking out.
She falls to her side, a hand on her face. From the ground, she looks around the room, her eyes taking in the macabre mirrors that are on every wall.
Kassel kneels down next to her. "Tell me, Kensi, my sweet little toy. Did you and your partner have time to say goodbye to each other. For your sake, I hope you did." Then he turns to Alejandro and with a smile says, "Do it."
Alejandro nods, and exits the room, walking down the hallway and into the room where Sanchez is with Deeks. She hears the sound of something being hit, then she hears Deeks cry out.
And then she hears gunshots. Two of them.
"Deeks!" she screams, tears flowing down her cheeks.
"I think we can both agree now that actions have consequences, Agent Blye."
She looks back at him, horrified, and wondering how a man this evil can actually exist. She shakes her head, trying to will words out, but finding none that can properly address the pain and anger and sadness she feels.
So she does the only thing she knows how to do – she forces herself to her feet and attacks him. It's a bit like she's rabid – there's no sensible woman in the driver's seat. There's just a thousand furious emotions, the greatest of them hatred and heartbreak. She slams herself against him, throwing them both to the floor. And then she hits. And she hits. And she hits.
She's pretty damn sure she would have killed him with her bare hands had it not been for Paul Sanchez. He grabs her from behind and pulls her off of Kassel. He backs her up against the wall, and points a gun at her. She can still smell the gunpowder from the bullets he'd just shot into Deeks – probably into his chest.
"Time to die, bitch," he says, his finger tightening against the trigger.
"No," Kassel says, standing up, blood trailing down his chin from a cut near his mouth. "Mine." He steps in front of Sanchez, standing over Kensi, his large form practically enveloping her in his shadow. "Beg for you life."
"No," she says simply, exhaustion overtaking her. Even so, she refuses to let him have what he wants. If he's going to kill her, well then fine, but she's not going to give him the satisfaction of having broken her first.
Even if she knows deep down inside that he already has by killing Deeks.
"Have it your way." He reaches down, grabs her by the hair, lifts her up, and then slams her with all of the force he has in his body into one of the glass mirrors.
Mercifully, she's unconscious before her head hits the glass a second time. He doesn't care. He slams her one last time into the mirrors, grinning sadistically as blood flows from her head. He drops her to the ground then, her body being further spliced by the razor sharp shards on the floor.
For his part, Sanchez just stares, maybe a bit horrified.
"I think she's still alive," Kassel says, a slight waver in his voice, just enough to show that for a moment, he'd lost control. It's not something he much cares for.
Sanchez bends down and checks for a pulse. "Yeah, she is."
"Pick her up and uh…bring her to the big room."
"Why?"
"Just do it!" Kassel screams before putting his hands out in a motion meant to indicate that he's calming himself. "Just…do it."
"Yes, sir," Sanchez replies, trying to hide his own fear. He's never seen Kassel like this, but then, he's never seen a woman dare to stand up to him before. Kassel's wife – a trophy one if ever there was one - dares to do very little -sometimes including dress herself - without first asking for instructing from him.
But this woman, this NCIS agent, even after hearing her partner supposedly get shot and killed, she'd refused to back down. She'd refused to be controlled.
And the blood and glass all over the place show the price for that refusal.
Sanchez leans down and lifts her up in his arms. She's lighter than he'd expected, even as a virtual deadweight. He carries her to the large open room.
"Don't drop her yet," Kassel says. "Alejandro, set up the camera."
"Right," Alejandro replies. He goes over to a supply closet, opens it and pulls out a tripod and a video camera. He sets them up quickly, and then nods to Kassel.
"Are we filming?"
"Yes, sir."
"Drop her."
Sanchez drops her, right in front of the camera. She hits the ground with a soft thud; the video screen closing in on her bruised and battered face and the horrendous bloody wound on her head.
Kassel turns to Alejandro, "Prep some of the Prince Charming."
Alejandro nods and steps away.
"Where's Deeks?" he asks Sanchez.
"With Trevor, waiting in the van for instructions on where to take him."
"Right. I'll be back. If she moves, if she tries to get up, kick her. She never gets up again, do you hear me?"
Sanchez nods.
Kassel turns and leaves the room, his footsteps fast and angry. He's clearly still not back in control of emotions.
"Deeks…"
He looks down, and sees that her eyes are open.
"You've got to be fucking kidding me," he mutters. He leans in towards her. "You're actually still in there."
"Deeks…"
"Dead. He's dead."
She swallows hard, and it occurs to him that even though her eyes are open, she has no idea what's happening around her. She has no idea that he's even there.
He glances back behind him, then up at the camera, then down at her. "I warned him," he says to her. "He kept telling me to stop looking at you. He had no right. What I want, I always get."
He leans down over her then and presses his lips to hers. He feels a slight squirm, but little protest beyond that. Her taste, it's intoxicating, and it pushes him on. He shoves his tongue into her mouth, his hands sliding under her shirt and into the waistband of her jeans as he forces sloppy kiss after sloppy kiss on her.
She moans and whimpers, and then when he presses his fingers into her hip, she cries out, but she still does nothing to stop him.
She can't.
Because she's broken and dying and he's won.
He's won.
His hands go up the front of her already torn shirt, and he rips it even further, exposing her to him. He touches her, delighting in the feverish warmth of her skin, enjoying the softness of it. He presses his mouth against her flesh.
His fingers trail down, and he starts on her jeans, unbuttoning them. He slides his hand beneath the denim and into the cloth of her…
"We don't have time for this," Kassel says as he re-enters the room, Alejandro right behind him. Kassel isn't even a bit surprised to find Sanchez upon Kensi.
"There's always time for this," Sanchez laughs. He feels Kensi move again beneath him, her palm seeming to slide up as if to push him off. It's a small and insignificant movement, though, with no strength behind it, and he easily swats her hand away, twisting her wrist as he does.
"No, we need to get going," Kassel replies as he takes a small case from Alejandro. He opens it up, extracts a syringe and a small vial, fills the needle up and then hands it and a yellow cord to Sanchez. "Shoot her up and let's get the hell out of here before her backup arrives."
Sanchez quickly ties off her arm, then leans down, his mouth just inches from hers. He holds it there for a brief moment, letting him taste her breath. Then, just as Kassel takes a step forward, he sits back, reaches down, and pushes the needle into her veins, emptying the entire syringe into her.
It's far too much and overdose is an absolute certainty.
It's an awful way to go.
Kassel leans over her, and for a moment, Sanchez things he sees the unimaginable in Kassel's eyes – admiration and maybe even respect. He touches Kensi's face, and whispers, "Rest in peace, Agent Blye." Then he stands up, turns to Sanchez and says, "Turn it off and let's go."
Sanchez nods. He stands up, flips the camera off, picks it and the tripod up and then turns and follows Kassel and Sanchez out of the room.
He stops just once to look back, his eyes focusing on her frame as it trembles ferociously against the hard cold ground. She's crying out now, trapped in the hellish delirium of an overdose, what's left of her life now measured in terms of minutes left and not days, weeks, months or years.
Yeah, it's a horrible fucking way to die.
Any sympathy that he might have for her (and there isn't much to begin with) is washed away by one cold bitter realization; better her than him.
He shuts the door behind him and turns off the lights.
He thinks to himself that it's a strange (or terrible) night when the best words you hear all evening are, "I think we can give her something for the pain now."
It's late, close to ten at night, and they've been talking all evening. Somehow, though, even with her face creased with exhaustion and pain, she's still pushing along, still stubbornly struggling to get the story out on the chance that her words might somehow contain the secret to finding Deeks.
If Deeks is still alive.
According to Sanchez, he'd been alive a day earlier, but what if Kassel had killed him after realizing that Sanchez had been taken into custody again. It's a horrifying though, but a probably one.
The rest of the team is refusing to even consider it.
Especially Kensi.
Her survivor's guilt is thick, but it's more than that. She may not remember every detail (he's filled her in on most of what Sanchez had told Callen and Sam, leaving out only the details about the crude molestation that had occurred right before she had been shot up with the heroin), but she recalls enough to believe that her stubbornness is what had led to not only them being captured, but also to Deeks being kidnapped.
He's tried to reason with her, tried to tell her that Sanchez believes that Kassel had always planned to abduct and not kill Deeks (at least initially) but she refuses to listen. She believes that her pride and anger had pushed them into meeting with Sanchez at the docks, which had led to their capture.
Her pain – both physical and mental – is deep and unrelenting.
And he has to be back on a plane within twenty-four hours.
Sometimes Nate Getz hates his new job. Right now is one of those times.
"What is that?" she asks as a nurse starts a drip.
"Something to help you sleep without pain," Nate tells her. "It should kick in pretty quick."
"Did I say enough?" she asks, her voice very small. Even without the drugs having hit her system yet, she's fading fast, a brutal combination of pain and exhaustion overtaking her.
"You did great," he tells her.
"Where do you think he is?" she mumbles, blinking several times. The nurse is watching from the doorway, her eyes going from the drip to the monitors.
"Out there somewhere, Kensi," Nate says. "And as long as he, no matter what condition he's in, we have a chance to bring him home."
She smiles slightly, and then her eyelids flutter and close. A moment later, she's sound asleep.
"She's going to be okay," the nurse tells him.
He starts to tell her that she can't possibly know that, but stops short. This woman has no idea what hell Kensi's been through, she has no idea what hell is still on-deck if they don't find Deeks.
She only knows that for now, Kensi is sleeping peacefully.
Nate nods, "Yeah," he agrees, realizing that for now, sleeping peacefully (and hopefully free of dreams and nightmares) is good enough for him.
For now.
TBC…