Chapter 11: The Secret

Through "Internal Affairs"

"We each survive in our own way." ― Sarah J. Maas

x-x-x

The secret is to live through the next minute. He won't kill you. He'd have to explain to the school or your friends where you've gone. So you hold on as you hear your Mom beg and scream. He stops at some point and you make your way to your room. The next day, Mom tells you to go to school but no swim team for the next week. She has more make-up on than when she went to your aunt's second wedding.

The secret is to live through the next minute. You didn't kill him. He's screaming, calling you every name he's called you in the last eleven years. Now, though, it's just as one run-on sentence. Yes you are an ungrateful little shit and yes you know you're going to juvie, you tell him. But, you scream, you're also damn good shot and you'd be that when both return home. Remember that, you tell him, because the next time will be the last time for one of you and since he is a miserable drunk, you like your chances.

The secret is to live through the next minute. Ray is in lock-up because he just turned 17. You're a few weeks away from your 16th birthday, so the desk sergeant has you sitting handcuffed to the arresting officer's guest chair. You laugh at the term guest chair, you're hardly a guest. One of the uniformed says you should get used to it, you're well on your way to a life of sitting in that chair, lock-up and eventually the state pen. The idea of a reunion with dear old Dad shuts you up. When your Mom arrives, her eyes are puffy from crying, her boss is sitting with her and there isn't any place on earth that is far enough to hide from what you've done to her.

The secret is to live through the next minute. Your Mom is crying, again. It is all your fault, again. She can't understand why you're leaving the Public Defender's Office, why you're forgetting all that hard work in college and law school for a career with the LAPD. You can't tell her that another sobbing mother who sold you on her son's innocence was actually a drug kingpin - queenpin - herself. You learn this when the kid who you got out on bail, shoots and kills his mother for leaving him in jail overnight. You promise your Mom she'll never get a call about anything bad happening to you, knowing that could be the biggest lie you've ever told.

The secret is to live through the next minute. You knew from your days at the Public Defender's Office that Frank Boyle was a nasty piece of work. You got two clients of questionable innocence off because of Boyle's equally questionable methods. Your first day with Boyle and you got to see those methods up close. Boyle sat down a drug dealer named Powell in the Powell's kitchen for questioning and made a pot of coffee. As a stupid rookie detective, you thought the profoundly hung-over Boyle was making the coffee for himself, to clear his mind. Instead, he brewed a weapon. You grab some ice and frozen vegetables out of the freezer for Powell who gives up the name of his connection while Boyle starts another pot. As you leave, Boyle tells the scalded man the name of the Powell's ex-wife, two young daughters and the private school they attend along with a promise to make them coffee if Powell talks.

The secret is to live through the next minute. As you're sitting outside the connection's home, you bring up to Boyle that you can't allow him to burn suspects for information. In what seems like the blink of an eye, his service revolver is in your mouth and he talks about how he'll force feed you your own gun one quiet morning if you think he's changing how he polices. You're in Internal Affairs at the end of your tour and on your own after that. You learn after he puts in his retirement papers that Boyle's IA file was over 700-pages. You were one of many to complain but nothing was done.

The secret is to live through the next minute. Years working undercover and a target has never used your real name before. Max, Derek, Jason, Dale, Tim or Pete - targets have all called you by those names. One or two asked Max, Derek, Jason, Dale, Tim or Pete if they were a cop but nobody ever called you by your real name before. Radovan Lazik called you Detective Deeks and you knew it was over. Not the case - that blew up when you should have been killed a day and a half ago with Emilio and Luis. No, everything was over now. Arrogance and a taste for revenge had you show up with no back-up. You deserve the beating Lazik's stooges are giving you. You got Jess killed by not paying attention. Maybe you'll apologize on the other side. Or maybe you won't. Callen walking into the room is not how you thought your beating would end.

The secret is to live through the next minute. Frank at the convenience store usually greets you the minute you walk into the store. Instead, he's standing like a statue with a customer not rushing out the door. You see the gun. Between sparing with the MMA Marines last year and an occasional boxing match with Sam Hanna at the NCIS gym, you are able to make quick work of the robber. Frank could have mentioned the guy in the back of the store but you can't blame him. He is a civilian. You were supposed to know the hold-up guy may not be alone. The first gunshot really hurt. With the gunman standing over you, you figured this was it. You worry about your Mom.

The secret is to live through the next minute. Everything hurts. After you drag the gold and Sam out of the water - in that order since Andros kicked you in the face as you tried to get out of the water with Sam and without the briefcase. Once Sam was breathing on his own, Sidorov nodded and Andros kicked the shit out of you. You watched Sidorov electrocute Sam, knowing something like that is coming your way. When they stick the brace in your mouth, you ask a God you're not sure you believe in for Callen or Kensi or someone else to show up like last time some guy with an accent knew you were a cop.

The secret is to live through the next minute. Hetty tells you the photograph is suspect but that's Kensi dead on the ground with her throat slashed. Nothing suspect about that. She's dead, it's your fault. You cared about Jess and got her killed, you loved Kensi and got her killed. Maybe it's time to realize the common dominator in all this death is you.

The secret is to live through the next minute. The man walking up to you looked familiar. When he calls you by your full name, you know why he was there. Deeks is what most people call you other than your Mom. And she calls you Marty. Martin Deeks is a name on legal documents. You go quietly because you know they're wrong. At least about killing Boyle. There are other reasons you think you belong in a cell. The desperation in Kensi's voice as she calls to you might be one more reason.

The secret is to live through the next minute. Steadman slapping you around and slamming you into a wall was hardly a surprise. He did the same when he somehow learned you were a confidential informant against Boyle. Bates did his usual gruff act - never quite wanting to piss off his true problem officers by making you the odd man out. The rest of LAPD makes their choice known when you are "accidentally" in gen-pop instead of segregated custody. When an old bust recognizes you it is six against one with no help from your fellow officers. "Get him out of there" from the IA Detective who wanted to talk to you in your cell is the only reason you still have front teeth.

The secret is to live through the next minute. You didn't do it. OSP proved you didn't do it. LAPD regrets your accidental move into a cell with other prisoners, Granger, of all people Granger, tells Bates the only reason LAPD regrets anything is because you went to law school with Mark Gold. The same Mark Gold who just won $17 million from the city for three young girls molested by their social worker. Mark The Shark could probably get you a few bucks for your stay in lock-up but oddly hearing Granger stand up for you was almost worth the beating. Your heart sinks, however, when you notice the one person you want to see isn't there at your release. You always knew she'd wise up.

The secret is to live through the next minute. She's sitting on your couch with Monty when you walk downstairs after your shower. The prison stench still lingers and it seems appropriate. "There's a lot I never told you," you offer as a reason for her to leave. It's obvious she is upset. "I know," she replies. "Lucky we have the rest of our lives to talk. But Deeks, we have to talk. It's the only way we'll survive." And maybe this minute is the reason you lived through all those other minutes.

-30-

Annoying author's notes: Yeah, I know, second person isn't everyone's cup of tea but this just sort of stuck in my head since I saw the promos. If you made it this far, bless you.