Author's Note – No profit to be had here, just having a bit of fun with a show I love.
There will only be one more chapter after this one – this was going to be it, but it got too long, so here's part one of the wrap up. The last chapter will probably be shorter, maybe more like an epilogue.
If you're still a big Hetty fan (I say "still" because I used to be one myself), this chapter and the one to come may not sit well with you, but frankly I was thrilled that she was getting some comeuppance in the finale. It was one of the few things about the finale that I really liked – the writers have taken a character I really liked and made her far more manipulative and unkind than I can stomach. I still adore Linda Hunt – but Hetty? Not so much.
Thanks again for all of the lovely reviews and all of the follows and favorites!
Ten Days Later
Deeks sits on the beach, staring out at the waves. Monty is sprawled out next to him, feet up in the air and snoozing in the intermittent mid-afternoon sun on this unusually cool and cloudy early June day. He can't surf yet, his side (and Kensi, really more Kensi than his side) won't let him. Granger had the whole team on leave until yesterday, but while he had the others return, he told Deeks to stay home until Wednesday.
It's Monday today, and he's not enjoying being on his own. He did get cleared to drive, so this morning after Kensi left his apartment, he got in his car and went to see Bates. That went better than expected, with Bates actually being nice to him. It was, in a word, weird. He also feels slightly insulted by the number of times Bates called him, "Someone else's problem." He scored a few new t-shirts for Kensi, though, so he decided to call the morning a win. After getting home, he grabbed Monty, some water and a power bar, and he walked down here.
He smiles a little as he thinks about Kensi. Until today, she's barely left his side for ten days. When they got off of the Coast Guard clipper at San Pedro, Granger had two ambulances there waiting for them. Under protest, Deeks and the guys were all transported to Pacific Beach Medical. They checked Sam out and released him, but Callen and Deeks were both kept overnight. Callen grumbled a lot, but with his concussion, the doctors demanded that he be kept for observation.
Sam went home to Michelle, but Kensi only left long enough to go by each of their homes to get clothes for them and to walk and feed Monty. According to her, when she got back to the hospital, Joelle was there fussing over Callen. Callen introduced Kensi as a "work friend," but Kensi took great pleasure in telling him about the shade of pink that Callen turned when he introduced Joelle as his girlfriend.
Despite the disapproval of the nurses, she'd spent that night just as she'd slept on the clipper ship – curled into his good side, arm draped protectively across him. They'd released him the following afternoon with an admonition to take it easy for several days, with no significant physical activity for at least ten days – which Kensi heard and took to heart. He's starting to get a little cranky about that, to be honest.
Sleeping next to Kensi for ten nights without doing more than cuddling has left him a little frustrated. She barely even lets him kiss her, just "in case it goes too far." But she has also basically moved into his apartment. She has taken over two drawers in the dresser and a small section (small but growing) of his closet. When she came in yesterday with an armload of hanging clothes and a duffel full of shoes, she just shrugged and said you never know what you'll need.
He's definitely not complaining about that, but it's also one more thing that's weird. They also have yet to have the talk they need to have about Afghanistan. He tried to raise it once or twice, but she just tries to steer the conversation to lighter things. So far, he has let her.
He's so lost in thought that he doesn't hear it when someone walks up behind him, so he jumps when he hears a woman's voice say softly, "Come here often, sailor?"
He looks up in surprise as Kensi drops onto the sand to his left. Her demeanor seems relaxed, but he can tell something's up. "Kens, what are you doing here? Why aren't you at the mission?"
She takes off her boots and socks before pulling her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. She stays quiet and stares at the water, and he can see that she's brooding about something. "Fern, are you all right?"
"I'm fine." She keeps her eyes on the water.
He snorts. "Really? We're back to 'fine?'"
She shrugs. "And it means what it usually means."
"Kens," he's getting worried now, "What's going on?"
"Hetty will be back tomorrow." He doesn't know how to reply to that, but she saves him by going on, "Granger sent me home, told me to take a few days. He knows that I know what happened now."
He furrows his brow, "What does that mean, Fern?" She takes a deep, shuddering breath, and suddenly he realizes that she's trying not to cry. He immediately moves closer to her and wraps his left arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him. Luckily, his side is mostly healed, and it doesn't hurt at all. She doesn't speak, so he tries again. "Kens? Please talk to me."
She turns into him and wraps her arms around his waist. "Granger told us that Hetty would be here tomorrow, and then he looked at Nell and told her to take me to lunch. There was something odd about the way he said it, and Nell looked completely stunned. She then just nodded, and I left with her. We actually grabbed some food from a food truck and sat in her car to eat."
"OK…" He's confused, but then something occurs to him and makes his stomach drop. "Did she show you the picture?"
"Which one? There were a few she shared with me." She sounds broken and it's killing him.
He swallows hard, not wanting to think about it, much less describe it. His voice is barely a whisper when he replies, "It was…you. In the cave. And you were…" He can't say it out loud, and he pulls her tighter to him side, making him wince slightly.
Kensi tenses and sits up slightly. "You saw that? How did you see it? Nell didn't say anything…"
"Hetty told me they found a picture of you that they believed to be doctored, and I demanded that they send it to me on my phone."
"And she told them to? What the hell was she thinking?" Kensi forgets her own issues with Hetty for the moment, now furious that they'd allow him to see that awful picture. "I'm so sorry, Marty. She never should have shown you that."
"You saw it?" He looks at her, eyes stormy with memories and pain, voice still a choked whisper.
"Nell showed it to me today. I don't remember them taking it – I think it must have been one of the times I was unconscious," she pauses, "Nell said Callen found it on a computer they left behind in the cave." He nods absently, but his silence is unnerving. "I'm so sorry she showed that to you. If she'd shown me a picture of you like that, I would have lost it."
He closes his eyes at that. After a moment, he stands and walks to the edge of the water, letting the water wash over his bare feet. She rolls up her jeans and follows him. "Marty?"
"I did."
"What?" She furrows her brow.
"I lost it. I lost it completely. And then I…oh God…I never wanted to admit this to you." He looks down at her with tears in his eyes. "This is why I pushed you away, Kens. I hate myself. I hate what I almost became when I thought I'd lost you. I'm afraid I could become that again."
"Marty…"
"I started to water board a blind, old man, Kensi. He was tied up, and I…" he sinks to his knees in the surf, almost as if the water can make him clean again, and he covers his face with his hands.
Her heart breaks as she watches him start to fall apart, and not caring that her jeans are getting completely soaked, she kneels behind him and wraps her arms around his waist. She presses herself to his back and holds him to her. "Marty, I can't fix this, but I'm so sorry. All I can do is promise to try to always be here for you. That isn't who you are. And from what you said, you stopped."
He's silent for a moment, but then she feels him take another deep, shuddering breath. "Yeah. I did stop, but after Sidorov, how could I even consider torturing someone, Kens? How could I become that?"
She stands up and moves further into the surf, crouching in front of him. "But you didn't, Deeks. You didn't become that. If you had, you wouldn't have stopped, and if you had, it wouldn't be haunting you now. Sidorov wouldn't give a damn. He would've tortured that old man until the old man died or talked. And then he probably would have killed him anyway."
He bites his lip, and she can see tears on his face beneath his hands. She reaches up and takes his hands in hers, pulling them from his face and twining their fingers together. "You are one of the best people I know. I won't let you hate yourself, do you hear me? You do not deserve it." She looks down at their joined hands, squeezing tight.
He looks up at her when he feels a shiver go through her. He realizes that she's basically sitting in the water, and it's a relatively cool afternoon. "Kens!" He stands back up, keeping their hands linked, and he pulls her up with him. "You're soaked. Come on, let's go home and get you into something warm and dry, OK?"
"Deeks, we need to talk about all of this." She resists when he tries to pull her towards the parking area where he guesses her car is.
He releases her hands and pulls her to him. "You're right, we do. But it's not worth you getting a cold. Let's go home and talk about this where we can fall apart without an audience."
At his words, Kensi looks around and notices that even with the cool temperatures, there are several other people on the beach, and more than a couple of them are staring at her and Deeks. She nods. "Touché, Max."
He pulls back and looks at her in shock. "You used it right!"
She smiles despite the heaviness in her heart right now. "I know. I do know how to use it, Marty."
He smiles back and retakes her hand. This time she doesn't resist when he starts to pull her along again. They put on their shoes, grab his water bottle and Monty's leash and, calling Monty, they head for the car. When they get to it, she goes to the back. She pulls out a few towels that she's been keeping there basically since partnering up with him. With Deeks, you never know when you're going to end up at a beach. When she's pulling the towels out, he notices her large duffel in the back, and it's clearly packed full. Next to it, there are two grocery bags, both also full.
She closes the back and hands him one of the towels along with the keys, and without a word, she beckons to Monty. She spreads a towel in the backseat for him, and he hops up and sprawls on it. She then climbs into the passenger seat in the front. He's already in the driver's seat, giving her a funny look, clearly curious as to why she's letting him drive. She just shrugs. "It's already been a long day."
He nods and starts the car, pulling away and heading towards his apartment. When they get there, he shuts the engine off and turns to look at her. "Do you need to get the stuff out of the back?"
"Yes. But I'll get the duffel. It's heavy, and you don't need to be lifting stuff like that yet." He grunts at that but doesn't fight her on it. She goes around to the back while he gets Monty.
He gets to the back as she goes to pick up the second grocery bag. She already has her duffel and the first bag in hand. "No way, Fern. You have to let me get at least one bag. Give me at least a shred of dignity."
She smirks a little, and she can't help but appreciate that even with his earlier breakdown, under the surface, Deeks is still just Deeks. "OK, Max. But take this one," she hands him the first one, "It's lighter."
He rolls his eyes but takes the bag from her. Out of curiosity, after she grabs the other bag and they start walking in, he peers into the bag he's carrying. "God, Kens, how many Twinkies are in here?"
She blushes lightly. "I don't know. I built up a stash back when I thought they'd never be making them again. I've been slowly working my way through them – it's not like they're going to go bad or anything. That's what's left." At his incredulous look, she defends, "What? I like Twinkies. Sue me, counselor, or let it go."
"Hey, considering how much coffee and pizza I consume, I'm living in a glass house. Consider it let go, Fern." He shakes his head and unlocks the door.
Once they're inside, it's suddenly awkward in a way it hasn't been in almost two weeks. She murmurs something about getting out of her wet clothes, and she retreats to the bedroom with her duffel.
Despite the fact that they've recently pretty much been completely casual about changing in front of each other, he suddenly feels as though she wants a little space. After turning on the coffee maker, he waits for the sound of her going into the bathroom and closing the door before he follows, wanting to change out of his board shorts and damp t-shirt.
He's already into some sweatpants and clean socks and about to put on a clean t-shirt when she emerges from the bathroom. She's clad in some leggings, slouchy socks and one of his sweatshirts, one from his college days at UCLA. She clearly washed her face, and her hair is braided into low pigtails. For a moment he's able to picture her as a teenager, because she suddenly looks impossibly young.
She comes over to him, eyeing his bare torso. "How is your side? You didn't get any saltwater on it, did you?" Her voice is laced with concern as she first examines the mostly-healed gash to his arm, and then as she leans forward and runs her fingers along the also mostly-healed place where the bullet embedded itself in his side.
"Kens, it's fine. It got a little damp, but it's healed."
She shakes her head, grabbing his hand and dragging him to the bathroom behind her. After closing the lid on the toilet, she directs him to sit down on it. He decides not to argue. He has already learned that Kensi sometimes wants to fuss over him, and it's simpler to just let her. He watches as she wets a clean washcloth and uses it to gently wipe down his side and arm.
She then hands him a clean towel, and he dries off the two areas while she gets some of the antibiotic cream he has left. She dabs it on his side and on his arm, and she puts a loose bandage on his side, which he'll admit is a little sore and pink. He knows it's fine, given that it's unfortunately not his first time with a healing gunshot wound.
When she finishes, she goes back to his bedroom and grabs the clean t-shirt he'd gotten out. He follows her, taking it from her and pulling it over his head. He turns and heads for the kitchen. "Sofa, Kens," he directs as he passes through the living room, knowing she's behind him.
He makes himself some coffee and her a cup of hot tea, and he brings the two mugs and one of the Twinkies with him back to the living room. She watches him from where she's already curled on the sofa, hugging the cat pillow to her chest. She knows they're about to talk about her experiences in Afghanistan, and she's dreading it.
At the same time, though, she's ready. She knows she should've talked to someone more than just the very dry and clinical psychologist Hetty made her see before allowing her to return to work, but she just didn't want to. Maybe if it had been Nate, she'd have talked more out. But the person had been a stranger and oddly lacking in warmth and empathy – he hadn't exactly made her feel like spilling her guts.
Deeks settles next to her on the sofa, placing the Twinkie on the coffee table and handing her the tea mug. She murmurs a thanks as he gets comfortable. He nods. "I'm sorry about earlier."
She blinks in surprise at that. "Why? What do you have to be sorry about?"
"We were talking about you, and then that damned picture came up and I made it all about me." He shakes his head.
"Deeks, you needed to tell me what you told me – hell, I'm pretty sure that I'm just about the only one who knows."
"Just about." He stares into his coffee mug. "Makar and Granger know too. I don't think Hetty does, even with her disturbing Amazing Kreskin-like ways."
Normally, she'd have snorted at that last bit about Hetty, but these days talking about Hetty doesn't exactly put her in a good head space. Almost as though he can sense her thoughts, he looks up at her. "What did Nell tell you at lunch today?"
"She told me everything she knows about Afghanistan and why I was there. Hetty had ordered her and Eric to not reveal anything they found out in Ops, but Nell took Granger's direction to take me to lunch as a direct order to get me up to speed." Kensi puts down her mug and begins to play with the end of one of her braids. "Nell opened with telling me she has wanted to learn to be like Hetty, but that this operation changed that."
"Damn," Deeks breathes out, knowing how much Nell respects, or maybe that should be "respected," Hetty.
"Yeah," Kensi nods absently before taking a deep breath, "She used me, Marty. Hetty played me like a violin, and I trusted her so much that I just went right along with it, believing her every moment."
"Back up, Kens, how did she play you?" Deeks furrows his brow, and he can feel anger start to burn deep inside.
Kensi pulls her knees up to her chest and wraps her arms around her legs. Her voice is barely a whisper when she says, "She knew Jack. She's always known him, and she knew he was the 'white ghost.' She knew I'd never take the shot. She sent me there as a way to protect Jack from the CIA. I just screwed up her plan when I went to try to find Jack on my own."
"What do you mean by she knew him?" He scoots closer to her on the sofa and wraps an arm protectively around her shoulders.
"She always knew him. She knew about my relationship with him, knew him then. That's one of the other pictures she had up in ops. A picture of me and Jack when we were together, back before his PTSD. Nell showed it to me – it's a picture I had in my personal box of stuff that Hetty lets me keep at the mission. I don't know how she got a copy of it, but now I wonder if she didn't go into my stuff. Nell thinks she always had it, though."
"So she set us both up? She sent you and Granger on some super-secret mission with less than all of the facts, and she continually allowed me to beat myself up, blame myself for you being there?"
"She even told me that she thought there was a mole. She had me running down rabbit trails, having Nell and Eric research Sabatino, everything. That part was pretty clearly a lie, too. The only good part of that was that she gave you a sat phone too." She looks up at him with tears on her lashes, "Talking to you at Christmas may have been the best gift I ever got in my life, and our talks and IM sessions after that were what kept me going. The idea of getting back to you is what kept me moving forward."
He uses his free hand to brush away the tears on her cheeks, and he leans forward and presses a soft kiss to her lips. When he pulls back, he rests his forehead against hers. She keeps her eyes closed and says, "And then I had to go throw a wrench in everything by not taking the shot on Jack, not telling Granger I recognized our 'target,' and running off in the middle of the night. I was such an idiot, Marty, about everything. It never would have occurred to me to not trust Hetty. That nearly cost me, Granger, you, Sam, Callen, and even Sabatino our lives."
He tries to lighten things for a moment, "Well, most of those would be a loss. Don't know about Sabatino." She snorts, but she doesn't smile. They're both quiet for a while, but he eventually says something he's wanted to say for a while, "Kens, I want you to know something – I'm not going to push you to tell me what happened in the cave. If you want to tell me, if you need to, I'm here to listen. But I know better than just about anyone that pushing you to talk about it won't help, and you talking to me about this is in no way some sort of requirement for us moving forward, for us being together."
She nods and turns towards him, wrapping her arms around his waist and getting as close to him as she can, almost as though his larger shape can protect her from everything including her own feelings. Despite his words, though, she takes a deep, shuddering breath and says, "I know, and I can't tell you how much that means to me. But I do want to tell you a few things."
"OK," he squeezes her tight, holding her as close to him as he can get her.
She first tells him about Jack. She wants him to know out of respect, but also because she wants him to know for certain that there isn't anything lingering there. When she finishes that story, she offers, "You know, I felt heartbroken for a little while, but then I started to feel angry. If they hadn't decided to take me out and use me as a punching bag for a while, I might have worked my way all the way up to pissed off."
She sighs. "At the end, though, after we were free, I found myself letting go and forgiving him. I hope he stays safe. I don't love him anymore – I haven't for a long time. But I hope he's as happy as he can be, and I hope he survives, you know?"
He stays quiet, afraid to interrupt. A moment later, she goes on, "And he tried hard to make them focus on him instead of me. He talked to them in Pashto a lot, and I don't know what he said to them but, while they did drag me to the back of the cave," she feels him tense next to her, and she adds, "They never abused me in any way but beating me up, Marty. Maybe a grope here or there, but I've been touched more on an op here than I ever was in that cave."
He relaxes at that and presses a kiss to her temple. "I'm glad to hear that Fern, but you do know it wouldn't have made a difference to me, right? It wouldn't change how I feel about you?"
She nods and says, "I know," but she also clings a little tighter to him. "After a while, it just turned into one long beating. Sometimes, they'd beat us up in front of each other, making one watch while the other one was the target. One of them smoked, and he really liked pulling up my clothes and burning my back with them." She sniffles. "The worst part was feeling so trapped and helpless, though. I got to the point where I kind of wanted to die."
He squeezes her to him again. "I get that, Kens, believe me. I felt that way with Sidorov." She looks up at him in surprise, and he shrugs. "That was when I started to focus on you. That was when I went to you in my head. The first moment when I thought that death would be preferable to them putting that drill in my mouth again."
An involuntary shiver goes through her, and he wants to make it better. "I'm OK now, you know? Not the same as I was before that – I don't think you can be the same after something like that, or after your time in the cave. I just hope you let me help you. I tried so hard to shut out the world after Sidorov, and it wasn't good for me. It made it worse. I didn't really start to get better until I talked to Nate and then you showed up on my doorstep with some Yummy Yummy Heart Attack and a stale cronut."
"I thought a lot about you when I was in that cave. I thought about moments like this, just us being…us…curled up on your couch, watching Top Model, no one shooting at us or trying to kill us. Just us. Marty and Kensi. When you strip away everything else, that's all I want to be. I just want to be Marty and Kensi."
"I like that idea, but don't forget Monty the Wonder Dog. We're nothing without Monty the Wonder Dog." He kisses her temple again.
She laughs softly at that, a happy, genuine sound that makes his heart lighten a little. "Kens?"
"What?" She looks up at him with a curious expression.
He swallows hard, but then he says something he knows he should have said a long time ago. "I love you. You know that, right?"
Her mouth opens in surprise, and tears come to her eyes again. After a moment, she blinks a few times and then hugs him tight again, burying her face in his scruffy neck. He can feel her tears on his skin when she mumbles, "I love you too, Marty."
They stay like that, curled together on the sofa, for a long time, both sort of stunned at themselves for actually saying how they feel. Eventually, he stretches out, and turns on his right side, and she stretches out with him. She continues to hold onto him as she winds up between him and the back of the sofa, and she entangles her legs with his to keep them close together. He reaches up and grabs a big pillow, and he positions it under their heads.
He drifts off to sleep for a while, and she follows close behind him, feeling completely at ease. A few hours later, Monty climbs up on the sofa, front legs up over Deeks' hip, and whimpers a little. They both are startled awake, but when they realize that it's just Monty, they both laugh and sit up. Monty jumps off of the sofa and returns a moment later dragging his leash.
Deeks has to grin at that. "OK, fella. I can take a hint."
Kensi stands up, laughing. "Only when applied with a sledgehammer."
"That wounds me, Fern. That wounds me deep." He puts a hand to his heart and does his best to look pathetic.
She just rolls her eyes. "Take him out. It's getting late, and I'm hungry. I'll order dinner. Pizza?"
"Works for me," he grins, "And there's beer in the fridge."
As he turns to put Monty's leash on him, Kensi catches his arm. "Marty, wait."
He turns back to her, and before he can ask her what's going on, she presses her lips to his. It's a sweet, soft kiss, and she pulls back a moment later. "We should have done that after what we said earlier. Way better than my whole crying-as-a-response thing."
He smiles, and he leans down and kisses her again. It's still soft, but there's also a possessive edge to it that she likes. "You're right, we should have done that earlier, but just so you know, you never have to be afraid to cry around me, Fern."
"Same to you, Max." She smiles up at him. "You be my safe place, and I'll be yours."
His smile turns into a full on grin, but it lacks his usual humor – it's just pure happiness. "That may be the best offer I've ever had in my life, Kensi. And I mean that."
"Good. Because it's how things are going to be from now on. Oh, and by the way, I gave my landlord my 30 days' notice. We need to get Sam and Callen to help finish moving me in here this weekend, though, because he actually has someone who he thinks will want my place."
He looks shocked again, even though he'd kind of been expecting that. After a moment of silence, she just grins. "Go walk Monty, Marty. Our dog looks like he's getting a little anxious."
Her calling Monty "our dog" finally breaks through his fog. He laughs, and before he leaves, he yells, "Don't let me forget to call Ray later."
"Why?" she calls back from the kitchen.
"I've got to tell him how my thing is working out with Wikipedia." As he closes the door behind him, he can hear her laughter follow him. He leads Monty down the stairs and mutters, "Yep. Ray's going to love this."