Life, Lies and Video Surveillance
By Cortexikid
Chapter 22: Gorgonize AKA 'Deeks, M' Part I
A/N: Strap yourselves in guys...it's gonna be a bumpy ride – and not in the fun way :/
This entire 'Deeks, M' IV parter is dedicated to SuperDensi427 for being awesome and offering such invaluable advice :D Thank you!
SHOUT-OUT to RHODANOS for your continued support! You rock! I'm so sorry I can't reply to you directly! But I just want to let you know that I appreciate your kinds words and as for Kensi and Mrs. Davis, I mentioned that Kensi tried to lick her face when she was high on LSD back in chapter 9 but I promise I'll go into more detail eventually, I can say that Deeks will eventually come clean about everything that happened that night ;) Thanks again!
Oh and CONGRATULATIONS to Eric Christian Olsen on his marriage to Sarah Wright! :D
WARNING: DARK THEMES AHEAD!
Okay, this A/N is far too long...sorry...enjoy!
Disclaimer: Neither NCIS: LA nor sad!Deeks is mine. I don't think I could cope if they were...I'm stressed just writing fanfiction lol.
WOTD: GORGONIZE; gor·gon·ize - To have a paralyzing or mesmerizing effect on: stupefy or petrify
"Ugh, I thought that was never gonna end..." Kensi groaned as she and Deeks settled themselves at a small, circular table, both nursing coffees and tension headaches.
"Me too, political pissing matches aren't my kinda thing," the detective agreed, taking a sip of his beverage before grimacing, adding more sugar.
"Then you're in the right career, liaison," Kensi smirked, eyebrows raised, bringing her cup to her lips and sighing with satisfaction, her eyes falling closed, a soft hum omitting from her lips.
"I'll have what you're having," Deeks teased while inwardly gaping at the expression on his partner's face – it was one of pure...bliss. It looked good on her. Really good. Like enough to cause much more inappropriate images of the horizontal nature to float into his brain without his permission kinda good.
"First Notting Hill now When Harry Met Sally?" she interrupted his little clandestine fantasy, her polychrome eyes making an appearance as she lifted her heavy lids, "geez Deeks, do you spend all your down time watching chick flicks or do you squeeze in mani-pedis and Pilates too?"
"Actually I'm more of Yoga kinda guy but seeing as you knew what I was referencing means you've watched them too Blye so don't judge...besides, what can I say? That scene always stuck with me for some reason," he smirked, his eyes looking past her and landing on a couple in the distance.
"What?" Kensi asked as her partner's attention was caught.
"Hugh Hefner wannabe, your four-o'clock," he murmured under his breath as Kensi tilted back in her chair a little and stealthily cast her eyes to the couple ordering their coffee.
Hugh Hefner indeed, all he was short of was the silk robe. The man was definitely pushing seventy, wearing the odd combination of flip-flops and expensive suit only an LA native could pull off (although its success was debatable), while his companion didn't look old enough to rent a car, hanging off his arm in tight shorts and a tank top, peroxide-blonde mop flung over her shoulder.
Kensi shrugged, swallowing her grimace, "so they're a little...May-December."
"More like January-December," Deeks quipped as Kensi chuckled, her eyebrows rising as the shrill sound of her partner's cell-phone began to drift from his pocket.
"Deeks," the detective murmured as he answered his phone.
"Uh, Marty? It's Logan Banks..." the blond's mouth dropped open as the familiar voice (that he hadn't heard in a decade and didn't particularly want to ever hear again) wafted from the other end. Kensi threw him a puzzled glance as he cleared his throat and responded:
"Whoa Logan, long time no speak, how the hell are ya? Wait, how'd you get this number?" the detective asked suddenly, trying to muster some semblance of civility for the man he detested every day of law school, an overwhelming feeling of dread seeping into his veins, his senses going into overdrive as his partner visibly stilled, listening intently, trying to hear the other side of the conversation.
"I got it off your boss Marty...listen, I really need to talk to you about something..." he trailed off. The knot of tension in Deeks' stomach tightened.
"About what?" he asked attentively, his eyes darting to Kensi's worriedly.
"It's—a cold case has landed in my lap, man. And...an old name has come up of someone you know."
"Who?"
"Your father."
The world tipped on its axis. Down was up, up was down and Deeks was somewhere in between. This was not...could not be happening...
The detective's heart hammered in his chest as he froze instantly at those two words. Swallowing deeply, he tried to school his features into something more neutral, averting his partner's inquisitive eyes. Shifting uncomfortably on the chair, his fingers absentmindedly tapped jumpily on his coffee cup as he fought to formulate words.
"Uh—where will I meet you?"
The repositioning of Kensi's hands and tightening of her shoulders let him know that she was on-edge, had clocked his body-language and knew without a shadow of a doubt that something was very wrong. Great. So much for stealth and misdirection being his forte, he could never get anything past Bad-Ass-Blye.
"Uh huh," he acknowledged, switching his phone to his other hand as he scribbled the location on the back of a napkin.
"Okay, I'll be there A-SAP," he hung up, lowering his phone slowly, his eyes trained on the napkin that he was now folding up and putting in his jacket pocket.
He could feel her enquiring dark orbs boring into him but couldn't bring himself to meet her gaze.
"I—uh...something came up Kens, can you—can you tell Hetty I'm taking the rest of the day off?" he rambled, already up on his feet before his partner could open her mouth.
"Deeks who—"
"I gotta go Kens I'll...I'll talk to you later," he murmured distractedly, throwing down a few dollars of a tip on the table.
But Kensi wasn't letting him off that easy.
"Hold up!" she raced through the door after him as he practically galloped out into the mid-day sun.
"Kensi—" he was cut off as her hand landed on his shoulder and whirled him around to face her.
"What's going on Deeks? Talk to me..." she trailed off, strong concern lacing her tone.
The detective paused, finding the courage to look her in the eye.
"It—it could be nothing but...I'll call you when I know more."
"You'll call me?" she repeated, a brief flash of disbelief crossing her face.
"I'll call you," he nodded before turning back around and jogging out of the parking lot, heading home to get his car.
Kensi watched his retreating back, a sense of unease settling into stomach.
She didn't like this.
Not one bit.
The drive to the Los Angeles County State Prison was a quiet one. Usually, when in the car (alone or sometimes with Kensi just to annoy her) Deeks would sing along at the top of his lungs to whatever crap was on the radio. Today however, the radio remained firmly off, the detective's full concentration being on getting safely to his destination without breaking any traffic laws, despite his body screaming in protest, aching to glue his foot to the accelerator and speed like a NASCAR racer.
Pulling up outside the gates, Deeks flashed his badge at the guard and parked, slamming his door shut and walking briskly into the entrance, badge properly displayed to each passerby. After being thoroughly searched and weapon inspected, he was directed over to an office where he was met with three familiar faces, two he saw on a regular basis and one he hadn't seen in over ten years.
"Marty Deeks," a slightly shorter, dark haired, brown-eyed man said as he walked towards the liaison, hand outstretched.
"Logan Banks," Deeks replied monotonously, shaking his hand with a firm grip.
"I take it you already know Detectives Harris and Kinney," Banks continued, ushering to the other cops.
"Uh yeah we're...colleagues," Deeks confirmed, levelling a nod at his co-workers who looked as if they were none-too-impressed at his presence, to put it lightly.
"Banks here tells us something White said loosely connects to you? Anything you wanna share, Deeks? You know, seeing as this is our case and we have absolutely no need for a liaison and are only allowing this because of courtesy..." Harris trailed off, an edge to his tone.
"And that's a courtesy I appreciate, thank you," Deeks replied sincerely, shifting a little from foot to foot, trying to quell his impatience.
"Five minutes Deeks, then we wanna know what the hell's going on," Kinney chimed in, a narrowing to his eyes.
The liaison nodded once more and made his way into the adjacent room, head held high, eyes unblinking as he drank in the form of the man whose face had been plastered across every television screen in Los Angeles for the last two weeks.
"Mr. White, I'm Detective Marty Deeks...I hear you have some interesting information about an old cell-mate of yours, Gordon John Brandel..."
Mismatched eyes stared blankly down at the desk as the pencil rolled back and forth, back and forth, back and—
"Kens seriously, knock it off already!" Callen exclaimed looking sideways at her, a bemused smirk on his face.
"Yeah no need to worry Kensi...Deeks will be here soon," Sam grinned, exchanging a teasing glance with his partner from over the top of his newspaper.
The female agent split her withering glare between the two of them before heaving an inaudible sigh and turning her head towards the door for what must have been the tenth time in the last fifteen minutes. It had been just over three hours since Deeks left the coffee shop in a hurry with little-to-no explanation. What really set her nerves on edge though was when she came back to OSP and informed Hetty of his departure only to receive nothing but a knowing nod and a pensive pursing of lips. Hetty knew something, and she wasn't telling. Those facts were never a good combination.
"Where is Surfer Boy anyway? Didn't you guys just go for coffee?" Sam asked, "or is this just another one of his 'tactics' to get outta doin' paperwork?"
Kensi merely shrugged, neither wishing to outright to lie to her colleagues nor admit that she wasn't 100% sure of her partner's location.
"Although Mr. Deeks penchant for fabricating reasons to forgo his paperwork is impressive, I'm afraid that the reason for his absence is far more serious than that," Hetty murmured as she walked over to them, halting between the two tables.
"What's going on, Hetty? Is Deeks okay?" Callen asked, as Kensi struggled to find her voice.
The petite brunette turned her attention to Callen before her gaze soon found Kensi's, staring into her dark orbs intently.
"Mr. Deeks is fine Mr. Callen, no need for concern," she replied cryptically, "I'm sure he'll be pleased to know that his team care so much for his well-being," she smirked as she turned to Sam who could barely repress and eye-roll.
With that, Hetty nodded and began her trek back to her office, only to have one tall, brunette agent trot along behind her.
"Did you hear from him?" Kensi asked, trying to keep the impatience out of her tone as Hetty walked around her desk and sat down.
"I did," she confirmed, her level voice not conveying a thing.
Kensi stared at her, eyebrows furrowed as she failed to elaborate. So that was how she was gonna play it. Alright then, she'd bite.
"And did he say where he was?"
"He did."
The agent's jaw clenched. She loved Hetty, she did, but sometimes this was just—
"I take it by the tightening in your mandible that you're dissatisfied with my response," she stated rather than questioned, entwining her fingers and resting them on her desk, her hawk-like-orbs raking over Kensi's face.
"He's my partner Hetty I—I just wanna know if...what's going on. I don't like—"
"Being left out of the loop, yes Ms. Blye, I know. And I'm sure Mr. Deeks knows too, which is why I will let him tell you the circumstances when he so wishes."
Well that was a dismissal if she ever heard one. With a curt nod, she stood up, shoulders back, head held high before turning on her heel and making her way back to her desk only to stop dead in her tracks as Hetty continued:
"A word of advice Ms. Blye, when Mr. Deeks does tell you what's going on, and he will, he's going to need his partner every step of the way. Are you prepared for that?"
Kensi whirled back around and caught her eye, worry in her eyes that were also shrouded with determination.
"Always."
Deeks scowled as he paced back and forth, trying not to stare through the small, square glass on the door. It had been over two hours since he arrived at the prison and he was eagerly waiting for his second round at Marcus White. Turns out, when Harris and Kinney said five minutes, they definitely meant five minutes. But that was hardly enough time to ask White what he had for breakfast never mind if he had any solid proof that Gordon John Brandel was responsible for a 22-year-old murder.
"You're not gonna see him again today Deeks," Logan Banks announced as he made his way out of the room and into the corridor.
"Are you kidding me, Banks? All I could get outta him in five minutes was that he knew of a murder that may or may not have been committed by Brandel in a place that may or may not exist anymore at a time that he thinks was around 1990. That's hardly solid evidence," Deeks practically growled as he halted in front of his old class-mate.
"He did give us the burial site, the coroner is inspecting the body as we speak," Banks argued, his chin stuck out stubbornly.
"Yeah but that doesn't necessarily mean she was killed there. So to recap, we only have the word of an ex-con who beats up his kids that a murder was committed by another ex-con who..." Deeks trailed off for a moment, swallowing deeply before continuing, "there was one thing that he was solid on though...the name of his lawyer," he glared, folding his arms across his chest.
"Deeks—"
"You're representing that scum-bag?"
"Well someone has—"
"He beat a ten year old boy to near death!" Several eyes jumped to the detective and the lawyer as Deeks' voice rose higher than he meant it to. With a glance to Banks, he shook his head and ran a hand through his hair.
"You know as well as I counsellor, that everyone is innocent until proven guilty...or have you forgotten that since joining the LAPD?"
"And you know as well as I that it's Detective, not counsellor," Deeks growled, "and this guy is guilty Banks, even you can see that," he spat, all the hatred and pent up anger that he'd been holding in for this guy for years flowing freely through his veins, clawing at his insides.
Banks took a step forward, arms folded, mirroring the blond's stance, tilting his head a little to glare Deeks right in the eye.
"Do you really believe that or is this clouding your judgement due to your own...experiences?"
Deeks took another step forward until he was barely four inches from him and stared straight down into Banks' face, nostrils flaring.
"I'm a professional, my judgement isn't clouded by anything, you understand me Banks?"
There was a beat of silence as the shorter man locked into a staring match, his dark eyes flickering as they fought not to blink. With a sigh, he looked away, blinking rapidly before meeting the liaison's gaze once more.
"Well, as long as the smart and talented Marty Deeks says so...but remember this, I called you out of courtesy, despite everything that went down between us, something I'm starting to regret now. You don't have to like it, but my client says your father killed a girl and he's gonna cut a deal for the alleged assault on Bobby Woods in exchange for his cooperation regardless of the outcome of the cold-case so just deal with it," he finished, taking a step back and walking back into the office without a backwards glance.
Deeks stared at his retreating back, swallowing deeply and rubbing his chin before his phone began to vibrate. With a slightly sheepish smirk he dug his hand into his jeans pocket, expecting it be another call from his partner. With raised eyebrows he glanced down at the caller I.D and pressed the 'accept' button.
"To what do I owe the pleasure Dr. Swartz?"
"Female, approximately 17 years old, level of decomposition suggests she died over twenty years ago..." Rose Swartz trailed off as Deeks leaned down, his eyes narrowing as he inspected the remains, a grimace on his face.
"Everything okay, Detective?" she asked gently as she watched him start and straightened up quickly, his eyes darting from her and back to the decomposed body on the slab. When she'd gotten the call from Henrietta Lange urging her to let Deeks sit in on her examination she had obeyed without a second's thought, still, she found it an odd request considering he wasn't the detective in charge of the case. Frowning, she looked a little closer and saw dark circles beginning to form under his eyes.
"Yeah I'm fine—uh was there any personal affects found with the body?" he inquired, appearing a little distracted, not meeting her eyes.
"Yes, they're just over there," Rose pointed to a small, rectangular tray behind him before turning back to her examination.
Deeks took a deep breath through his mouth before making his way over the little table, a knot of dread weighted in his chest. Ever since he'd gotten that call from Banks, it continued to grow and grow and now must be at least the size of a football. There was just something, a niggling thought in the back of his mind that just wouldn't leave him alone and now that he laid eyes on what was left of some poor, teenage girl that feeling only grew stronger.
As his cerulean eyes fell onto the few items that were found on the body, his heart jolted in his chest, his breath hitched and his mouth dropped open.
It can't be...
"Doc...is there any evidence of the girl having broken her left wrist?" he asked suddenly, trying desperately to quell his rapidly-firing thoughts as they fought their way to the surface of his brain.
There was a short silence as Rose consulted her notes. After a beat, she turned to look at him inquisitively as he made his way back over to her, a sliver of a worn photograph clutched in his hands.
"Yeah there is...how did you know that, Detective?"
Deeks cast one last look to the grimy skeleton with insect-eaten clothes before glancing down at the picture in his hands with a heavy heart and a sigh on his lips.
"Because I knew her..."
It was past nine-thirty when the dilapidated detective plonked down on his couch, beer in hand, frown on his face. He felt beyond exhausted, his bones aching, his muscles tense. Rolling his neck, he grimaced as he heard it creak in protest before he heaved a sigh, draining the last of his beer and lying down, his eyes staring straight up, dazed and unfocused, almost as if he were in a trance.
It had been one hell of a day, enlightening in the worst sense. Just when he thought he had found his footing, had finally put his demons to rest, something like this happened to drag them back kicking and screaming to the forefront of his mind, pulling down his heart into the dark depths of his soul.
But that's what Gordon John Brandel did. Dead or alive the man always found a way to negatively affect Marty's life, to put his personal stamp of disapproval all over every aspect of his being, of his existence.
And now...now there was this girl, a girl that Deeks hadn't seen or thought about for a lifetime, her remains darkening the morgue's gleaming slab, her essence long gone...possibly at the hands of a man that tormented the detective for over a decade.
So yeah, today had not been a good day. Tomorrow would be no better.
Before the liaison could properly dwell on that depressing thought, a sharp knock echoed through his apartment. Sitting up, he chanced a glance at the door, almost expecting it to burst open, the person behind it storming in with a finesse that the best comic book villains could only dream of. But instead, the knocking just continued, each getting louder and more persistent with every passing second.
Deciding it was best to not prolong the inevitable, Deeks stood up, plodded over to the door and flung it open, not bothering to check the peephole as by now it was painfully obvious who stood there.
"You didn't call me," were her first words as she pushed past him into his apartment, already turning on her heel, her arms folded, her eyes boring into him.
"I'm—"
"In fact, I called you. Eight times," she practically growled, anger and dare he believe it, concern lacing her tone.
"Where the hell did you disappear to huh? I mean, I know Hetty knew where you were but why are you keeping me in the dark Deeks? I mean I thought we were partners, you could have told me about—"
"Oh yeah 'cause you were so forthcoming with me when you went on your little revenge spree—" Deeks' words stuck in his throat as he saw the brief flash of hurt ensnare Kensi's eyes before it was quickly smothered by irritation.
He dragged a palm down his face wearily, feeling like a complete and utter ass. No matter how crappy he felt, he shouldn't take it out on her.
"Kensi I'm sorry I didn't mean that, it was uncalled for," he apologized sincerely, edging a little closer.
She shook her head and shrugged her shoulders, walking backwards until her legs hit the edge of the couch and sat down, her polychrome eyes never faltering from him. Deeks was oddly reminded of Hetty.
"What's going on Deeks?" she asked, her voice neither demanding nor soft, just inquisitive and maybe a little worried.
"Can't we do this later Kens...I'm kinda tired..." he tried to brush off the question with a wave of his hand.
Her eyebrow arched. She was having none of that.
"Seriously? After everything, you're gonna shut me out?" she couldn't keep the hurt from her tone as she dwelled on the possibility that this was something that her partner didn't trust her with.
Granted, she was guilty herself for not giving full disclosure to her partner and yeah, she knew that they both that their numerous issues that weren't always discussed but this...her partner deliberately hiding something from her caused a knot of unease to form in her stomach and a painful pang in her heart.
Deeks finally looked up to her face and must have caught something there that caused him discomfort and alarm because suddenly words were tumbling from his mouth like a rush of water:
"An old classmate from Law School contacted me today...a guy I thought I'd never hear from again..." crossing the room to sit down beside her, a large space between them.
"Why not?" she asked gently.
"Well, let's just say he isn't my biggest fan. Banks and I, we were kinda up and coming hot-shots back when we were in school. We had this big plan to start our own firm one day until you know..." he trailed off, waving his hand with a frown.
"And what happened?" she asked, intrigued by a part of Deeks' life that he almost never discussed.
"Oh you know...creative differences and I...I always wanted to be a cop anyway and so one day I just said 'to hell with it' and went for it."
Kensi felt compelled to ask the burning question that had always been in the back of her mind.
"What prompted you to make that career choice?"
Deeks cleared his throat, shifting a little on the couch.
"Well, Detective Deeks sounded much better than Counsellor Deeks...alliteration and all..."
Kensi rolled her eyes at his obviously insincere reply.
"And what did he want?" she asked, leaning a little forward to try and catch his eye again.
"Well," he started timidly, "he said that there was a prisoner in custody with some interesting news on a cold-case," he trailed off, his heart thumping in his chest.
Kensi turned her head to meet his eyes, silently urging him to continue. Deeks fought to hold her gaze.
"You remember that case a few weeks ago, the little boy who was beaten up by his step-father?"
His partner nodded, the unease settling deeply into her veins.
"Well..." he hesitated, rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand, "the prisoner was that step-father, Marcus White."
There was a beat of silence as Kensi digested those words.
"And..." she began quietly, "what did White want with you?"
Deeks was staring intently at his clasped hands now, his head lowered. With a deep breath, he summoned the strength and replied:
"He uh...the cold-case he had information on was a seventeen year old girl that according to him, was murdered 22 years ago."
Kensi nodded, feeling as if they were on the brick of something huge.
"And how did he get this information?"
Slowly, Deeks angled his body towards her, lifting his head, his unfocused eyes anchoring themselves in her dark depths.
"Apparently his ex-cell-mate told him about it to try and scare him..." he bit his lip, no longer able to look her in the eyes.
"Who was his cell-mate?" she asked, not believing the amount of prodding she had to do to get her usually chatty partner to talk.
With a defeated sigh, his mind trying not to dwell on the events of the day, he took the plunge and said the three words that always caused a pit of unease to flow through his entire body.
"Gordon John Brandel."
Kensi's mouth dropped open, not believing her ears.
An overwhelming sense of compassion ensnared her, empathy for her partner being the strongest emotion she'd felt all day. She could only imagine what he was going through, what torture he was enduring over the last few hours.
Reaching out, she covered one of his hands with hers and gave it a gentle squeeze.
"What am I gonna do?" he asked, his voice sounding childlike and quiet. Her heart gave another painful lurch.
"We'll figure it out," she murmured, her thumb brushing across his knuckles as his eyes found hers, "we always do."
A/N: Yeah, I was wrong...again...this 'Deeks, M' series is and will continue to be the HARDEST EVER to write :/ but hopefully it'll all be worth the effort in the end :D
NOTE: Just want to remind the readers that I know next-to-nothing about the Prisons etc. in Los Angeles and everything referenced is just researched through good ol' Google :D Feel free to correct me on anything if I got anything wrong :D
I would love to hear what you guys think :D Reviews are little slivers of happiness :D
~Ck
NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:
"Marty, he was always a sweetheart...the kindest guy in the world," she smiled; her dark eyes alight with wonder.
"He still is..." Kensi agreed, a soft smile on her face.
"So are you guys..." she trailed off, her suggestion hanging for the entire universe to see.
"Me and Deeks? No, I—no...what gave you that idea?" Kensi gaped.