Brothers in Arms

Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS:LA, if I did, I'd have more time to write!
A/N: Thanks to ncisloverinnc, Sweet Lu, Somnium, tessinciucy, and beverlie4055 for leaving written encouragement in the form of reviews.

Day 13

Deeks came to when the sunlight was filtering through the curtains. He squinted at his surroundings and tried to wiggle his way into a sitting position.

"I wouldn't move too much. I used glue instead of stitches and it tends to pull."

The source of the voice moved into Deeks' field of vision and handed him a cup. "Thanks, I'm a bit dry." Deeks peeked around and then whispered "Did I pass out?"

Jorge smirked and nodded. "It was good for me, I didn't have to use any of my knock-out drugs."

Confused, Deeks wrinkled his nose, "then what did you shoot into me?"

"Antibiotics." He settled into the chair across from Deeks. "I have to tell you, this isn't a normal bullet wound. What we think happened is the guy shot you through the pack of firing pins. They acted as a bit of a shield and slowed the bullet down. However, it did blow some of the firing pins into your leg. I took out as many as I could, but I'm certain there are still some in there."

Deeks sighed. "So what you're telling me is there will be surgery in my future?"

Jorge nodded. "The sooner the better. I don't think they'll poison you but any foreign objects should be removed so that infections can't set in."

The water was helping his throat, but it also reminded his stomach that it hadn't had much to eat in the last 24 hours. It made its condition known as the growling breached the silence. Deeks smirked, no matter how badass they were or how many bad guys they took down in a day, they still had to eat.

Callen emerged from the doorway and stretched. "Sleeping on the ground was better than that mattress, what'd you fill it with, porcupine quills?"

"Be happy I didn't make you sleep on the porch to watch out for invaders of the animal variety."

With a sour face shot at Jorge, Callen plodded over to the kitchen area and started banging pots around.

Jorge sighed, "You're not going to try and cook, are you?"

A muffled retort came from inside a cabinet. "It'll be better than letting you try and find the working end of a spatula. I'll have you know my cooking skills have improved since you last knew me now that I have a kitchen to practice in."

With wide eyes, Jorge turned to Deeks and whispered "How does he have a kitchen to practice in?"

Deeks shrugged, "He has a kitchen in his house."

"He rented a house?"

"He owns a house."

Jorge's mouth gaped open, "Really? No..."

Deeks nodded and a slow smile spread across his face. "He's getting down-right domesticated."

"I heard that." Callen spun into their sightline holding a frying pan. "I practice my knife skills on the steaks, build muscle strength mashing potatoes, and tweak fine motor skills picking up peas with chopsticks."

Deeks and Jorge shared a look and tried not to laugh.

Callen pulled up in front of the cabin after a long drive back from the CIA headquarters. He and Jorge had left Deeks there so that they could sniff around for details of the DEA raid. He found Deeks on the couch reading a paperback that Jorge had dug out for him.

"Breakfast was good." Deeks said it with a straight face, but Callen knew that he was working to keep it that way. Deeks had pretty much fell asleep onto his plate once they were done eating but it looked like he was awake now.

"You two really enjoyed it." Callen harrumphed. "There's nothing wrong with my cooking."

"According to Jorge this was a vast improvement." Seeing Callen's pout Deeks added, "Aw, how often do you get made fun of, huh? I promise I won't tell anyone else the stories."

Callen rolled his eyes, Deeks was usually the butt of the jokes. He could take one meal of one-liners and zingers. "Fine. But if I hear any related questions back home, I'll make Jorge put the bullet back in."

Deeks snickered, but stopped at a glare from Callen.

Callen tapped his finger against his leg, trying to decide what was the best way to break the news. He decided to do it the same way he had learned it; he dug the note out of his back pocket and handed it to Deeks. With a wary look he unfolded the paper and the smirk slid from his face as he read.

"So. What do you want to do with this information?" Callen sat down on the couch beside a very still Deeks as they both processed the message that had been given to them.

A muffled sniff sounded and was followed by a sigh. "I don't know. I mean, this was supposed to be justice. We'd come down here, do what we had to wrap up the case with Diego. Ricardo would be put away and...and..." his voice broke.

"You would get some closure. It would be easier to move on with him behind bars."

This was the real reason why they had stepped off the plane and mailed their passports home in Costa Rica. As important as it was to grant Diego's request of sending Jake along with one of the packages, they had agreed to do so to save Deeks' sanity. Callen had seen the flashes of pain in Deeks' eyes and watched as he tried to cover up the skittishness that he had picked up. It was convenient that the man centred in Deeks' nightmare also happened to be a wanted hit man. They had hoped it would make their lives easier; ensure he's on the compound when the raid happens and he would end up in custody and then prison. Somehow there had been contingencies put in place by Ricardo long before he came to work for Diego. Now, Diego was locked in the DEA's custody and Ricardo had slipped out of their fingers.

"We did everything the legal way. We did it all right." Deeks eyes were glassy from the tears that threatened to break the dam that held them back. "I just don't understand."

Callen paused, not sure if this was the right time. In the three weeks leading up to their flight from LA they had sorted out who Ricardo really was and had discovered all the crimes he had committed. The descriptions were gory and the pictures were worse. Multiple agencies from several countries were looking for him. They had learned that Deeks was one of the lucky ones. He was still alive. It turns out that Ricardo had a taste for torture; he liked to see people suffer. Somehow this trip down to Columbia had become more of a vigilante ride than just to lock up a drug cartel. They needed to put this man away to protect his future victims and to serve some justice to his past ones, even if they weren't alive to know it.

With fists clenched and the muscles popping from holding his jaw so tightly, Deeks kicked at the floor more out of frustration than anger.

"There may be another way." Callen decided to tell him now, it wasn't fair to hold information back from the person it would most benefit. He heaved a breath "Jorge gave me another note." He dug it out of his other pocket, opened it up and handed it to Deeks.

He read it out loud "Manny's been tracking him since he left...the tech is a genius. Ricardo is holed up in Juarez, Mexico with the Ortega's." He turned to face Callen for the first time, "What does this mean?"

Callen steeled himself against the instinct that rose in him to take this tip and run it alone. Mexico was not a place to be alone and he trusted Deeks to watch his back. Somewhere between picking him up after Ricardo had his first and second runs at him, Callen had found Deeks trustworthy. Hetty and Nate would have a field day if he ever leaked it to either of them.

"The Ortega's are a small operation that offers protection to anyone from anyone. It's like the only safe place to be in all of the Americas. However, they have a two week policy and once you leave, you're fair game."

Deeks squinted, "How does that help us? He's only been there maybe a day. He's still got most of the two weeks left."

"Let's go there, inspiration may hit on the way."

"You want to go to Mexico?" Deeks was a bit suspicious and shocked.

"I may or may not know some people there. But we'll have to make a pit stop in the capital to pick up some ID."

"Let me guess, safety deposit box?"

Callen smiled for the first time, "Not really."

A quick good-bye to Jorge and they were on their way to Mexico. The flight was uncomfortable, again, for Deeks. Unlike the first flights where he wore the firing pins on his back, he now wore a fresh gash along with a sprinkling of metal pins in his leg. The trick was to keep the leg as straight as possible to keep it from putting pressure on the wound. Of course this was easier said than done, but through some creative seat booking and Callen donating some of his leg room to the cause, they made it to Mexico City without staining another pair of Deeks' pants.

Deeks let Callen take the lead and he followed behind him, step for step, once they got into the airport. He followed him from the plane, to the baggage terminal, through security, and into a taxi. Callen was worried at first as all the talk and bluster had seemed to gone out of Deeks. Then he would turn his head and get a view of the quiet determination that had taken up residence on his face. If their eyes would catch, Callen would nod and Deeks would nod back. They were in this together until the end. No matter how it played out.

The taxi dropped them at a small park and Callen lead the way through some back alleys to a small shop. Once inside he waved to the man seated in the back. A look of confusion was quickly followed by recognition and he ran off into a storeroom. Callen nodded for Deeks to follow him and they worked their way through the odds and ends lining the shelves and floor. They each took a seat at the recently abandoned table. The man emerged from the door way with a box. He reached into his shirt to pull out a ring of keys that were held on a long rope around his neck. He found the proper key and worked it into the lock. It was slightly rusted but the lock gave and the lid loosened. The man turned the box to Callen and then made his way to the small kitchenette at the side of the room and began messing around in the cabinets.

Callen lifted the lid and dug around. He pulled his hand out once it wrapped around what he was looking for. It was a folded bandana. He held it up to show Deeks who just stared back with a questioning look.

"This is our way in."

"To where? A western bar?" A hint of Deeks wit came out from underneath the weight of the past month's events.

"Juarez."

The man set mugs of coffee in front of the partners with a sigh. "You're not going back there again, are you? Remember last time? I finally sold that car you brought back to me with the hundreds of bullet holes in it." A cultured British accent was not was Deeks was expecting and the surprise showed on his face.

Callen clapped the man on the shoulder, "You love a good challenge." This prompted another sigh. "The good news is that I don't need anything this time...just a vehicle. We'll be back in a couple of days and I'll place this back in your safe keeping."

The man looked at Callen as if he had grown another head and that head was presently growing another. "Just a vehicle? Just a vehicle. That's what you said last time. Do you know how hard it is to resell things that I give you? How do you suppose I make a living?" He paused for a moment. "Don't answer that. I have something, and I don't want to hear any complaints."

Callen shrugged and mimed zipping his lip and throwing away the key.

To this the man scoffed and mumbled "I'll believe it when I see it. Follow me." He pushed his way through a curtain and into an outdoor courtyard. In the corner sat a rust-coloured, because it was mostly rust, car.

Deeks squinted. "Is that a Gremlin?"

"No complaints!"

Deeks hobbled his way over to the car. He peeked in the window and then popped upright. "I drove one of these through college. Every one of my friends hated it, but I loved that car. It was the first one that I bought instead of...uh...I bought it." He faltered for a moment, but recovered and ended with a grin.

The keys sailed over to him. "Take it, it's yours. Don't bring it back."

A/N: Presently I am battling a lingering cold, a horrendous-looking October schedule, and a story that decided it wasn't quite done yet. That's right, this is twist is somewhat new. But I'm not giving up, I just might disappear for a while.