This isn't very detailed, but I hope I did this chapter justice since I don't think the show really has thus far concerning his PTSD.
I don't own anything with this show. If I did I would be rich.
Deeks is sitting in a parking lot in Kensi's Cadillac after work, staring at the rather modest building in front of him. He remembers being in this position several weeks ago, anxiety almost keeping him from leaving his car. Circumstances are different now, and he considers this location to be a friendly and safe place. But life as usual is constantly changing, and he is once again feeling anxious about the next hour of his life.
Placing his hand on his belly he breathes in deeply through his nose and exhales slowly 6 times. "Let's do this," he said to himself as he climbs out of the car and walks into the building.
"Good evening Nancy," Deeks addresses the sweet-faced, pleasantly plump woman sitting at the front desk.
"Marty, so good to see you today," Nancy says brightly. She says this every week. "Dr. Warner is waiting for you."
Deeks nods and smiles to her, walking through the solid wood door separating her from Dr. Warner's office. "Eh, what's up doc?"
Dr. Warner looks up from his tablet, unsurprised by Deeks' joke. "No carrot this week, I see." The doctor looks to be in his mid-40s, in pretty good physical shape, with a brown beard and a short generic haircut. His face is friendly and his green eyes have a sparkle in them that tells Deeks if they were meeting under different circumstances, the doctor would be able to match him joke for joke.
"Sorry, no props today," Deeks retorts as he settles in.
"So how was your week, Marty?"
Deeks scrunches his face. "Hmmm. I think I might have to say it's been one of the best and one of the worst weeks of my life." Dr. Warner blinks at him and tilts his head. "Oh, maybe I should explain. So Kensi, my partner, and I took a definitive step forward in our relationship. That's the good part."
"And the worst part?"
"She was reassigned. I have no idea where, why, or if she's even alive," Deeks whispers. "And I have been doing great up until now. I have been doing everything we've talked about, but this is…different."
"How so?"
Furrowing his brows and pursing his lips he confesses, "I can't stop thinking about the roles being reversed."
"You mean your partner being tortured?"
Deeks winces. "Yes, but more than that. Me finding her tortured. Or dead. Or me having to choose between her and the mission. She made the right choice and followed orders. I don't know if I could do the same."
Dr. Warner nods sympathetically. "You had a horrible experience, and understandably you don't want your partner to go through the same experience. But Kensi wasn't tortured, you were."
"But I don't know that she won't be."
"You don't know that she will be," Dr. Warner counters gently. "Do you think that this is going to affect your ability to do your job?"
Shaking his head, he replies, "No. You were right about facing my fears head on. With every case I think I'm getting better and better. I even made this insane left-handed shot last week." Deeks beams with pride, but then remembers the conversation with Kensi outside the ambulance and his face falls.
"Marty?"
Deeks snaps out of his daze. "Yeah doc?"
"Are you ready to talk about the torture?"
Deeks nods. This is always a part of their sessions, repeating the details of that day and what he remembers seeing, smelling, hearing, feeling. The more you face it the easier it gets; the more you avoid it, the worse it gets.
"I was assigned to overwatch. Sam and Michelle were at the house we were watching, with Sidorov…"