Life, Lies and Video Surveillance
By Cortexikid
Chapter 24: Infandous AKA 'Deeks, M' Part III
A/N: Again, I'm indebted to all of you for your wonderful support :D Dedicated again to the awesome SuperDensi427! (Thanks for Bizzaro-Kensi) :D
Disclaimer: Neither NCIS: LA nor Broken!Deeks is mine...thankfully, because a broken Deeks is just the saddest thing in the world :(
WARNING: CONTAINS DARK THEMES! ANGST & HURT/COMFORT ALERT!
NOTE: INCREDIBLY LONG CHAPTER AHEAD! Feel free to take tea/coffee breaks in between if you get tired, I know I did lol :P
WOTD: INFANDOUS; In·fan·do·us adj. Unspeakable or too odious/horrible to be expressed or mentioned
"He didn't do it, Marty."
Deeks dragged a weary palm down his face, Andi staring up at him indignantly as they waited outside the interrogation room in the LAPD precinct.
"Andi—"
"He didn't. Tommy is such a good guy he wouldn't—"
"You haven't seen him in years Andi...people change."
"I have," she replied cryptically, ignoring the shift of movement from the other brunette that sat beside her. Deeks' eyes averted to his clearly uncomfortable partner who sat next to Andi on one of the hard, plastic chairs for a moment before flickering his gaze back to his old friend and arguing:
"Yeah, that's what I mean. People change, evolve—"
"I meant I have seen him recently," she deadpanned, folding her arms.
Deeks frowned. What the hell was she talking about?
"Where? You've only been back a few weeks..."
She cleared her throat, her eyes faltering from his as she picked at the hem of her blouse.
"At school," she grumbled quietly, so much so that Deeks had to lean forward to hear her properly.
"What school?" he asked, utterly perplexed of how she managed to come across an old friend of Fay's after all this time. As far as he knew, a lot of them had moved out of state.
"Reseda High School..." Deeks eyebrows rose at the familiar name, "I work there now. I'm the new counsellor ," she finished her gaze returning to his as if to seek his approval but she clearly wasn't, Andi was never the type of girl to seek approval from anyone.
"And...what does he do?" the detective asked, folding his arms and leaning back against the wall, surveying the two beautiful brunettes in front of him. It was surreal to have them side by side, one his past love and the other...well, Kensi. Kensi Blye, who was being incredibly quiet, more quiet than usual since they picked Andi up at her house.
He knew his partner didn't agree with bringing the victim's sister to the precinct where the man copping to her murder was being held but Deeks just couldn't find it in him to let Andi go so quickly after finding her again. It had been so long, 12 years since he seen her and that last moment he shared with her had snuck up on him and replayed in his mind when he was least expecting it many times since then.
Even now, as he stared down at her, he saw that she hadn't changed a bit over the years, he could still see that face, 20 years old, bereft and broken, tears streaming down her cheeks as she yelled at him, pushed him, pleaded with him. He remembered it as if it were yesterday and seeing her now, so...defeated and broken again, it was torture. He couldn't leave her now. He wouldn't make that mistake again.
"He's a janitor," she was saying as he snapped out of his trip down memory lane, "look, he didn't kill Fay. He loved her, idolized her. He didn't do this..."
Kensi watched the two closely as they interacted. Deeks appeared to be off in his own little world as Andi grumbled softly, clearly disturbed by the thought that her sister could have been murdered by a person they both knew and liked a great deal.
It was odd, uncomfortable, being here between the two of them. She felt as if she were intruding on a particularly private moment and there was only one other time she ever felt like that around Deeks...when he was with Nicole. But this was somehow much worse; she was actually in the same room this time, literally stuck in the middle and...Andi wasn't a woman that fell for Deeks when he was pretending to be someone else. No, she was a woman that fell in love with him when they were kids, who knew the real Marty, the Marty before he was Deeks, before he was a lawyer, before he was a detective, the real Marty Deeks that Kensi never knew.
Her heart panged deeply as she thought of that. She knew that they'd been in love once, that much was obvious by their body language and how they spoke to each other even in a situation as tense as this. Question was, why did the thought of them being in love (once upon a time) cause bile to rise in the agent's throat? Why did it make her stomach lurch uneasily and her chest cavity ache?
Before she could dwell on these painful inner-queries, the agent's attention was caught by the interrogation room door opening and Detective Kinney and Detective Harris walking out and halting in front of Deeks, both looking disgruntled and plain pissed at his presence.
"Well, looks like we're gonna find out," Deeks muttered to Andi before turning his head to his LAPD colleagues.
"Five minutes Deeks...I don't care that Bates let you consult on this case, it's still ours and what we say goes, got it?" Harris practically growled as Deeks held up his hands, plastering on a grin (that Kensi could see through a mile off) and stepping around them.
"Sure thing Harris...what you say goes, got it," he winked before nodding at the brunettes and stepping into the room and folding his arms, his usually bright eyes now dimmed as he drank in the sight of Tommy Maxwell, a guy he had a hazy memory of from when he was a kid.
He was another that hadn't really changed over the years. He was still small, compact, incredibly thin and almost sickly-looking, frail in his light weight and practically translucent skin. He seemed timid, child-like, well under his 39 years, not a wrinkle or grey hair in sight.
Deeks cast his mind back to whenever he was over at Andi's house and Tommy would be there, always firmly in between Fay and Will, the constant third-wheel for the couple but Andi was right, he did idolize Fay, hung on her every word. But he did that with Will too, like he was just so happy that someone as 'popular' as them would cast a glance in the direction of someone like him but that's who Fay was. She was never arrogant or self-righteous, she was sweet and gentle and kind. She didn't deserve to die like that...no one did.
"Hello Tommy," Deeks called and he strolled into the room, adopting an air of ease (that he hadn't felt since this entire case began) and sat down in the car opposite him.
A flash of recognition passed across Tommy's face as he stared with his pale, olive eyes over to the detective. Apparently he thought Deeks hadn't changed much either.
"You know who I am?" he asked, putting down the manila folder and placing his clasped hands on top of it on the steel table.
"You—look familiar," he squeaked, his voice still a couple of octaves higher than the average guy, just how Deeks remembered.
"Well, it has been a long time so I'll jog your memory. I'm Detective Marty Deeks...but I guess you'd remember me as Marty Brandel..."
Maxwell's eyebrows rose at that.
"A-Andi's boyfriend?" he asked a little shakily, clearly nervous as tiny droplets of sweat formed on his brow.
"I was...once, yeah," the blond nodded, before shifting his hands and opening the file, pulling out some pictures and sliding them across the table.
Intently, he watched as Maxwell's eyes stared down at them, his nervous composure morphing into one of pure horror as he glanced from a photo of a happy, smiling Fay with little sister to the one that showed the remains of the young girl, a decomposed skeleton on a cold slab in the morgue.
Tommy shut his eyes, a grimace marring his face, his nose and lips scrunched up as a trickle of tears escaped his lids and trailed down his cheeks.
Deeks tilted his head pensively as he gauged this reaction. Interesting...
"Now that we've been reintroduced Tommy, I think it's time we talked about Fay..."
Kensi crossed her right leg over her left for a moment before changing her mind and crossing her left over her right, shifting a little on the hard chair, trying and failing to get comfortable. Out of the corner of her eye she could feel Andi's gaze wash over her as they waited in silence in the corridor, ignoring the hustle and bustle of cops and legal personnel in the station.
"Are you okay?" she asked quietly, tilting her head to catch the agent's eye.
"Shouldn't I be asking you that?" she replied gently, startled that the older brunette had caught on to her sense of discomfort and her unrelenting thoughts.
"Well let's just say we asked each other and we're both okay," she responded with a little mirth in her gaze as Kensi felt a soft smile creep up onto her face without permission.
"Deal...so uh, how—how long have you known Deeks?"
Wow, she hated how unsubtle that sounded.
Andi's face broke out with a beam as she cast her gaze to the left, clearly casting her mind back to a time long before now. Kensi watched intently as she paused to think, an irrational sense of envy engulfing her at the thought that this woman had such a long history with her partner that she had to take her time to respond. Quickly, the agent scolded herself inwardly, shaking her head to quell that ridiculous feeling, push it deep, deep down.
"Me and Marty, we grew up together in the same neighbourhood. There was less than a year between the two of us and we were in the same grade so really we were always together. And when we met Ray the three of us were inseparable. We did practically everything together, they were the best friends a girl could ask for. I remember I even went through this phase of making friendship bracelets and I made one for Marty and Ray and my sister too, and they all wore them; even though they looked terrible, just to make me smile.
"People used called us The Three Musketeers, something that really bugged the Ray, Marty never seemed to mind though..." she trailed off, a chuckle on her lips, "and yeah, for a long time that's all we were, good friends. They were both my rocks after my sister disappeared, I don't know what I would have done without either of them, it was all so much for a ten year old to deal with.
"Then, when we got a little older and Ray began to date everything in a skirt, Marty started to feel left out so he and I began to hang out more by ourselves and well...you know how it is. We went from friends to...more than friends and dated through High School and a little into college but I had to move away and we kinda lost touch," she finished, a bittersweet twist to her lips.
Kensi gaped at her, surprised at how open she was, how easily she offered up her past, especially the more emotional parts. She could tell that this was something that ate away at Andi in the dead of night, the 'what-ifs' that plagued her mind as she thought of her past. She could relate really, the 'what-ifs' were what kept Kensi up at night too, with one particular blond usually being centre-stage. She wondered if that same blond starred in Andi's thoughts too...
She felt a sharp pain shoot up her stomach and into her chest as she reflected on that. All Deeks had said about them was that they were old friends. He had failed to mention that by 'old friends' he probably meant 'first love' by the sound of it. Kensi was at a loss of what to even think about that—
"How long have you known Marty?" she asked after a moment's silence, interrupting the agent's rollercoaster thoughts.
Kensi's widened polychrome eyes met Andi's hazel ones as she struggled with what to tell her. Unfortunately she didn't have the same openness, wouldn't and couldn't afford that luxury even if she wasn't an undercover agent.
"We uh...we met just over three years ago. Have been partners for nearly as long..." she trailed off, unsure how to continue.
"What's he like now?" she asked, curiosity colouring her tone.
"He uh...I guess he'd be pretty much the same as you remember, still a smartass, upbeat and always ready with a joke. But he's also a damn good cop, a great man and a fantastic partner just...don't tell him I said that," she smirked.
Andi chuckled, rolling her eyes.
"Yeah, wouldn't wanna risk him getting an even bigger head, he wouldn't fit through the door," she laughed as Kensi snorted, nodding at the validity of that statement.
"Ain't that the truth," she agreed, feeling a little more at ease now in Andi's company.
"You guys must be talkin' about me if you're smiling that much," the man in question said suddenly as he closed the interrogation room door behind him and stared down at the two women.
"Don't flatter yourself," Kensi deadpanned as she and Andi leapt up, eagerly awaiting to hear how the interrogation went.
"Well, someone's gotta flatter me," he smirked gently as he went to sit down opposite the two chairs they had just vacated. Taking his lead, the brunettes sat back down again, two pairs of dark eyes locked firmly on him.
"Well, what's the verdict?" Andi asked, her voice a little on edge as Deeks shifted and sat forward, resting his elbows on his thighs.
Slowly, he heaved a sigh, staring her straight in the face and replying softly and with a hint of empathy:
"You were right Andi, I don't think he did it..."
Kensi started the ignition, fighting the urge to glance at her partner sideways as he pulled on his seat belt and slouched against the headrest, letting out what felt like his millionth weary sigh in the last 72 hours.
"How is she?" she asked quietly as she began to drive down the street and out of Andi Benson's neighbourhood.
"Better than to be expected," he murmured, "but Andi was always tough."
Kensi nodded and kept her eyes on the road.
"Did she get in contact with her mom?"
It was Deeks' turn to nod.
"Yeah...apparently it didn't go well. She kinda lost touch with her parents when she moved to Chicago to go to college. Their relationship was always tense but it got pretty unbearable the years after Fay disappeared. Honestly I don't know why Andi stuck around as long as she did..."
I do, Kensi silently answered, reflecting on the sweet expression on Andi's face as she reminisced about she and Deeks.
The chirp of a text-message interrupted the conversation. Deeks took out his phone and glanced down at the screen, a hum of interest erupting from him as he read it.
"Who is it?" Kensi asked curiously.
"Woodruffe...he wants to know if we can meet him first thing in the morning," he responded distractedly as he typed back his reply.
"Where were you thinking?"
Deeks looked up and caught her gaze for a moment, his eyes more ablaze with determination that it had been since this case began.
"The boat shed," he said firmly, "I think it's about time he told us his theory about all this, don't you?"
Kensi pressed the brake and turned off the engine as she pulled up outside Deeks' apartment block. It was late, had felt like one of the longest days in history and she was bone tired, but none of what she was feeling could possibly compare to what her partner must have felt. She took a quiet moment to drink in his appearance as he rested his head back on the seat, his eyes firmly closed, his chest rising and falling a little quickly, his face tinged with a look of discomfort. She recognized that expression, her stomach heaved a little at the thought.
He was dreaming again.
But she hesitated to wake him. She knew he hadn't gotten any sleep the night before, had more than likely paced his apartment and dredged up old memories and god knows what else. And he was paying for it now, he looked...wretched. Drained. He'd become even more worn out over the course of the day, temporarily reanimated with Andi's presence only to sink back into his almost zombie-state as he tried to keep going on little-to-no sleep and gallons of coffee.
He wasn't taking care of himself and she knew for damn sure that if it were her acting like this Deeks would be all over it, bringing her food and making her eat it, staying watch on her couch as she grabbed a couple of hours of well-needed rest...but this was all new territory for Kensi. She had to be his unflappable support, his protector, the person who ensured he took care of himself, ate and slept and showered and didn't drive himself crazy.
Which was the main reason (she convinced herself) that there was a fully-stocked duffel bag in the trunk of her car, containing her pajamas and a spare toothbrush and fresh clothes etc. for this precise moment. The moment she knew would come as soon as he started down this well-worn but marginally-ignored path. She said she wasn't going to leave him alone again until he was through this and damn it if that meant literally, then so be it.
"Deeks...Deeks..." she called gently, poking him in the side with the tip of her finger, a sense of déjà vu washing over her as she remembered the night of his drunken stupor where all of this really began.
She was going to wake him, grab her bag and get him to bed, making sure he ate breakfast in the morning, took a shower and changed his clothes. She knew it wouldn't do much for his tender emotional state but it was better than nothing, and certainly something she could ensure.
But most of all, she'd be there for him. Through everything and anything.
It was time for her to be his rock.
"Nice place ya got here," Jimmy commented early the next morning as he glanced around the boat-shed, taking a seat in front of the TVs and glancing between the two partners.
Deeks and Kensi shared a look before taking the seats opposite him. It had been...odd in his apartment just over an hour earlier when the detective awoke and padded down the corridor only to find his partner camped out with Monty in the living room, clad in polka-dot pajamas, sitting cross-legged on his couch, a spoonful of cereal half-way to her mouth.
She merely raised her eyebrows in silent hello and continued eating. As did Monty, munching happily on his kibble at her feet as Deeks stared at the two of them, running a hand through his dishevelled hair and thanking all the deities that he managed to put on pajama pants before he crashed last night.
They'd barely spoken a word since then, the thoughtful actions of his partner remaining silently acknowledged but neither having the guts to voice it, to think about what it all meant. There was far too much going on as it were. With a shake of his head, Deeks forced himself to focus on the task at hand, promising himself there would be all the time in the world to dwell on his and his partner's evolving 'thing.'
"When we first met, you said you had a theory back when Fay first went missing that you couldn't prove?" Kensi spat him from his reverie as she dove right in, choosing to forgo pleasantries and get right to the point.
"I did...still do, never really could let it go," the ex-cop replied, leaning forward and resting his elbows on the table.
"Care to share?" Deeks jumped in, mirroring him.
Woodruffe took a deep breath and nodded, seemingly making up his mind.
"Okay...well honestly, I never thought that Fay ran away. The fact that none of her clothes were missing, none of her personal affects gone just didn't add up. She was working a part-time job, the pay was crap at best and all she brought to the movies was her purse with no more than forty dollars in it. I interviewed both Will Jenkins and Tommy Maxwell the day after her disappearance and they both said the same thing. Jenkins left the movie theatre at 11:30pm because he had an early morning and Fay and Tommy hung back to wait on Fay's ride, her friend Alice that was going to pick her up at midnight. After convincing Tommy that she was fine and that he could go on home, he left her in the diner opposite the theatre. They only heard of her disappearance when Jenkins got a call at 2:30am from Fay's mother when she failed to come home."
Woodruffe paused to take a sip of water and the partners exchanged another silent glance.
"Okay so, if you thought she didn't run away, what did you think happened to her?" Kensi prompted, staring curiously at the ex-cop.
"I always thought she was murdered and I guess the M.E's report proves that. You said that her skull was fractured, detective?" he turned to Deeks questioningly.
"Yeah, I spoke to the coroner this morning, she said Fay suffered blunt-force trauma to the back of the skull consistent with being struck with a rounded object so, yeah, murder it is. Her name was released too so the press will be all over it by now," Deeks grumbled, not particular psyched at having an old friend's horrific ordeal plastered all over the papers and airways.
"What was your first impression of Tommy Maxwell?" he continued, casting his mind back to the fragile, shell of a man he met earlier that morning.
Woodruffe scratched his chin thoughtfully for a moment.
"Yeah, when I interviewed both Jenkins and Maxwell the first time, I don't know there was just something off about them. Tommy seemed like—"
"Someone was feeding him lines? Yeah, when I interviewed him this morning I got that feeling too. He was just...too rehearsed and when I showed him the pictures he almost fell apart," Deeks commented.
"Yeah," Woodruffe nodded, "he was a wreck back then too but not a murderous kinda wreck more of a distraught friend. Jenkins on the other hand? He was calm, almost too calm but I could never really pursue that line of questioning because well—" he broke off, looking a little uncomfortable.
"Because..." Deeks prompted, raising his eyebrows at his partner.
"Because his father was my Lieutenant," he finished with a grimace.
Deeks' mouth dropped open.
"Whoa, you're saying that the guy you think killed Fay is Alf Jenkins' kid?"
Woodruffe nodded grimly.
"He's far from a kid now Marty but yeah, that's what I think. Course, back then, I'd have to be crazy or wanting to commit career suicide if I even tried to suggest that he was involved in anything and I know, I know what you're thinkin' but I had no concrete evidence and nothing to tie anyone to anything so there wasn't much else I could do without it lookin' like I was on a witch-hunt for my boss's son. I mean I followed other leads, none of which panned out and I tried everything else I could think of to try and find Fay but there just wasn't any..." the ex-cop heaved a heavy sigh, resting his chin on his clasped hands, eyes lowered.
"I'm not proud of it but...I didn't follow up my initial questioning on either of the guys even with my gut feeling telling me that the Jenkins boy was hiding something and that's something I just couldn't live with so I—I quit the force in '92 and tried to never look back but...this case...it has haunted me all these years..." he trailed off, dragging a hand across his eyes, shame set into his shoulders, before tilting his head at the partners.
Kensi caught Deeks' eye and nodded minutely.
"Well then," he replied resolutely, "I think it's about time we had a talk with Will Jenkins..."
"Here's good," Deeks jerked his head at the free space as his partner turned the wheel.
"You nervous?" Kensi arched an eyebrow at him as they pulled to a stop in the parking lot of Regina High School.
"Why would I be nervous?" he asked, his voice crackling a little as he took in the sight of his old school, it seeming to have frozen in time. Suddenly, he was 14 years old again and starting his first day of high school, he remembered the sweaty palms and the fake grin as if it were yesterday...it was disconcerting to say the least.
Kensi merely smirked at him and shook her head, suppressing a chuckle. She could only imagine what kinda high school student her partner was and judging by his face, Deeks was well on his way of remembering exactly what kinda student he was.
"Come on superstar, take me down memory lane," she winked before jumping out of the car.
"Well, that was a proposition if I ever heard one," he grumbled under his breath before following her, slamming the door and shuffling along behind her.
"Oh my god, it's still here," Deeks breathed as they entered the school and walked down the deserted corridor.
"What?" Kensi asked, brow furrowed as she looked around her.
"The graffiti," he smirked, pointing at one locker to their left that had a faded gleam to it, a glossy 'M' sprawled Superman-style, shinning through the obviously fairly fresh coat of paint.
"See, I used this really strong gloss, it shines through practically everything," he beamed, clearly proud of his little bout of vandalism.
"You rebel," Kensi deadpanned, shaking her head at his ridiculous pride, "really Deeks? Superman?"
Deeks nodded with a grin.
"Yep, I was Superman, Ray was Robin and Andi was—"
"Oh you mean Bizzaro-Kensi?" the agent interrupted, the words tumbling from her lips before she could stop herself.
Deeks snorted, turning to walk backwards, his shoulders shrugging as he smirked.
"Well Kens...technically I knew her first so, actually, you'd be Bizzaro-Andi," he quipped before turning on his heel and halting outside an office that had 'Principal W. Jenkins' printed on the door.
Kensi stopped dead in her tracks as those words hit her like the proverbial freight train. She didn't like the implication (however unintended on Deeks' part) at all. Shaking her head and silently berating herself for her ridiculous overreactions, she stepped over to join her partner outside the door.
Arching a questioning eye-brow at her sudden silence, Deeks cleared his throat and swung open the door, pushing down the perplexing feeling of dread that he once felt at being summoned to the principal's office.
Will Jenkins, slightly more rounded than Deeks remembered him, salt and pepper hair thinning a little on top, looked up from his desk with interest, phone glued to his ear, his chair tilted back as he scribbled something in a notebook.
"Okay, okay that's great," he held up a finger at the partners to halt their motions as they entered.
"Uh huh, uh huh, uh huh," he rambled animatedly as Kensi and Deeks rolled their eyes and waited impatiently, the detective's shoulders hunched in annoyance.
"Uh huh, yeah I get that but here's the thing buddy—hey!" he exclaimed loudly as Deeks leaned forward and placed his finger down on the button of the phone, effectively hanging up.
"Hey, hi there, I'm Detective Deeks, this is my partner here Kensi Blye, I believe you're expecting us," he smirked faux-politely before taking a seat and ignoring the wide-eyed gape that his partner threw in his direction.
"Just who the hell do you think you—"
"I told you who I am, I'm Detective Marty Deeks and I'm here about Fay Benson," he replied, leaning back in the chair and folding his arms.
Jenkins' mouth dropped open, his eyes darting from the agent to the detective and back again.
"You—you found her? Is she okay? When did she—"
"Her body was recovered two days ago about forty miles from here," Deeks interjected with a wave of his hand.
Jenkins swallowed deeply, his eyes downcast.
"Oh my god...poor Andi she—she never said anything. Wait...does she know?" his head snapped up, his mouth twisting.
"Yes, she's aware. Mr. Jenkins, can you go through the events of January 31st 1990? Starting from when you first saw Fay to when you last saw her?"
"I—it's all a blur really. I know we met up at the movie theatre at nine, me and Tommy..."
"Tommy Maxwell?" Kensi asked, leaning forward in the chair.
Jenkins nodded.
"We uh, we went to see Back to the Future 2 for like the third time I think...Fay always loved Michael J. Fox. She—she seemed on edge that night. I remember, I must have asked her a million times if she was okay, she was just too quiet you know? And then when her mom called me up at 2am and said she never made it home I—I immediately thought that she actually went through with it..." he trailed off, staring at his desk.
"Went through with what?" Deeks asked, mirroring his partner's seating position.
"Running away...she'd been threatening it for years. Her dad was unbearable, he was crazy overprotective, overbearing, wanted Fay to be the top in every class and be the perfect daughter that he could brag about to all his colleagues. The guy was a menace, made life hell for the entire family. And don't even get me started on what he'd get like when Fay disappointed him...I can only imagine what life must have been like for Andi after her disappearance...hey you don't think that he—" he cut himself off with a shake of his head, "no, no of course not. Jerry was a pushy parent, not a murderer."
Deeks caught Kensi's eye and they silently passed their opinions on Jenkins' trail of thought.
"Well, that's for us to determine. What made you leave Fay that night?" he questioned suddenly, changing topic with a raise of his eyebrow.
Jenkins cleared his throat, tugging at his tie.
"I did not leave her alone detective, she was with Tommy..."
"Until Tommy left her too," Deeks finished with a tilt of his head.
"Yeah well, that's probably something he regrets every day...I know I do—"
"Are you aware that Tommy has come forward and confessed to killing Fay?" the liaison interrupted suddenly, watching intently for his reaction.
A slow raise of the eyebrows were the only indication that Jenkins heard him.
"I—that must be why he didn't show up this morning..." he grumbled to himself as he wiped a hand across his brow.
"He turned himself in last night...copped to her abduction and murder in the early hours of February 1st 1990," Deeks continued, his eyes narrowing as they focused on Jenkins' emotionless face.
"Oh wow...that's—wow..." he trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck, his voice sounding a hell of a lot more shocked than his face looked.
Time to change topic again.
"Tell me Mr. Jenkins, what was your relationship like with Fay? Any trouble in paradise?" the detective questioned.
A hint of irritation passed over the principal's face.
"She was my high school sweetheart and I never stopped loving her...and I don't appreciate the implication of anything otherwise. Now if you'll excuse me I've a lot of work to do. If you've any more questions please direct them to my lawyer Detective Marty...Marty...where do I know that name..." Jenkins trailed off for a moment, eyes upturned in thought. Suddenly, a flash of recognition passed over his face.
"Oh! I remember you! You're that kid aren't you? That kid that shot his—"
"Thank you for your time Mr. Jenkins, if we've anymore questions we'll let you and your lawyer know," Kensi cut in with a faux-smile, nudging her partner's hip gently with her knuckle to edge him towards the door.
Deeks stiffened at her touch and Kensi withdrew her hand as if burned. With set shoulders, the detective unclenched his jaw and made his way out into the corridor, fists balled at his sides as they descended the corridor. Jenkins was every bit of a pompous, self-entitled asshole as he remembered.
"He was very quick to point at the father, barely blinked when we told him his oldest friend admitted to killing his girlfriend," his partner commented softly as she walked along beside him, her eyes darting to him.
"And lawyered up faster than we could say 'you're guilty Jenkins.' Yeah, I'm more convinced than ever," Deeks growled under his breath, "that guy definitely has something to hide."
Callen stared absentmindedly at his coffee cup as Sam grumbled softly to Eric. It had been quite the uneventful day, neither agent seeing hide nor hair of their colleagues, being informed by Hetty earlier that morning that neither Deeks nor Kensi would be in today due to the detective's involvement in the LAPD's case.
He knew what Kensi was trying to do of course, she was standing in unity with her partner, showing her support but she was an NCIS agent and had no jurisdiction, just like he and Sam and yet she was still allowed help Deeks. Callen was grateful she was there for the detective but he still felt at a loss...helpless that he couldn't do anything.
With another roll of his neck, his bones creaking loudly, Sam looked over from where he was standing at the TV with Eric and remarked:
"You really don't do idle well, do ya G?"
Callen's head snapped up and he stared at his partner for a moment before sighing.
"It's just...Deeks—"
"Yeah, I know," Sam interrupted, "but the LAPD shut us out and—"
Before Sam could finish that thought, Callen leapt out of his chair as if he'd been electrocuted, making a beeline for Eric who looked downright alarmed.
"Eric! Could you run a name for me?"
The tech operator frowned, looking to Sam and back to Callen.
"Uh...sure Callen. Who?"
Callen paused pensively for a moment, thinking over his theory for a moment before replying:
"The cop that first had the case. Sergeant James Woodruffe."
Nell Jones' fingers tapped rapidly across the keyboard as she dug file after file out from the virtual mass, decrypting and unsealing whatever files she could pertaining to the Fay Benson case. She was so engrossed in her work in fact, that she failed to notice the arrival of a certain petite brunette, not that she'd notice anyway, the woman was a frickin' ninja.
"Ms. Jones."
Nell jumped, utterly startled and whirled around to meet Hetty's gaze.
"Hetty," she acknowledged with a hand to her heart.
"Is there uh...anything I can do for you?" she asked politely as the woman continued to stare unwaveringly at her.
"As a matter of fact..." Hetty walked further into the room, fixing her with an odd expression, "Ms. Jones, you have gathered sensitive intel on one Gordon John Brandel before have you not?"
Nell nodded numbly, not knowing if she liked where this conversation was going.
"In that case, I would like you to dig up anything you can on Mr. Brandel and his life around the time of Ms. Benson's disappearance and subsequent murder..."
Nell gaped before swallowing nervously.
"Uh not—not to argue Hetty but uh...is that really wise I mean Deeks is kinda—"
"It's a worthy cause Ms. Jones. Mr. Deeks needs whatever help we can give him, and if that means either exonerating his father or proving his guilt than that's a risk we're going to have to take," Hetty interrupted before turning on her heel and walking out.
Nell watched her retreating back, a simultaneous feeling of her heart sinking into the depths of her stomach and bile rising in her throat.
"Hey, take the next left," Deeks instructed Kensi as they drove along downtown Los Angeles. His partner threw him a confused sideways glanced as she turned the wheel and began the decent down the familiar street.
"You think this is a good idea?" she asked, hoping that all could be heard in her tone was concern.
"She's working for the guy Kens...we gotta let her know he's a suspect," he argued, already opening the door before she came to a full stop.
"Should I...do you want me to stay here?" she asked, a hint of something in her tone.
Deeks looked back around and caught her gaze, her tone penetrating his fraught emotional haze for a moment. Minutely, he shrugged, trying and failing to adopt a more blasé stature before he shook his head.
"Nah, come on in, don't want you baked and panting like a puppy in the hot sun."
She pursued her lips at him before stepping out of the car and walking along briskly beside him, across the street and halting at number 19, the bright red door gleaming in the sunshine.
Clenching and unclenching his fist Deeks raised his hand and knocked twice, rocking back on his heels, his hands clasped behind him. Kensi observed his changing behaviour with interest but before she could comment on it, the door crept open and Deeks took in a sharp breath that made her eyes spring to the woman standing in the doorway, not Andi, but an older version of her with grey hair and shinning hazel eyes.
"Can I help you?" the woman asked gently, her mouth turned downwards in a frown.
Deeks gawked at her for another moment before collecting himself, clearing his throat and rubbing the back of neck nervously.
"Hi, I don't know if you remember me but my name is Marty Deeks, I'm one of the detectives consulting on your daughter's case. I'm so very sorry for your loss, Mrs. Ben—"
The harsh sting of a slap to his left cheek effectively cut Deeks off from finishing that sentence.
The two partners merely gaped, the liaison rubbing his cheek with the back of his hand as Mrs. Benson began to spit angry words at him, each punctuated with venom, her hands flailing in their faces as she fixed Deeks with a downright vicious glare.
"Don't you waste your breath feeling sorry for me Martin Brandel! And yes, I remember you, how could I forget? You're the one with the murderer for a father; you should feel sorry for yourself! How dare you come here and darken my daughter's doorstep after all this time knowing that that monster did to Fay! And then to be 'consulting' in the case? Well, that's the biggest travesty of them all!"
"Mrs. Bens—"
"Get off my daughter's property now before I call the police," she warned, her tone as sharp as steel before she slammed the door in the still shocked faces of Deeks and Kensi.
They stood there, motionless on Andi's doorstep, nothing but silence passing between them. Kensi turned her head to observe her partner and her heart broke at what she saw. His shoulders were slumped, his head tilted down, his oddly shimmering eyes lowered to the ground. She winced when she saw the angry, red hand-print that marred his stubbled cheek.
With a bite of her lip, she decided to break the silence:
"Deeks—"
"Let's go, you heard her..." he grumbled lowly, his eyes still averted as he turned on his heel, stalking back to the car, climbing in and slamming the door behind him before Kensi could even blink.
She slowly made her way back over to him, her heart as heavy as her footsteps.
This day just got better and better.
A thumb pressed the decline button for the fifth time in a row as a sigh erupted from a thinly-lined mouth. Dark eyes studied light as they stared out the window, a foot jiggling impatiently on the floor.
When the cell-phone began to shrilly ring again, it was promptly slammed down on the table.
"You're gonna have to talk to her eventually," Kensi murmured gently, clasping her hands and placing them down beside his phone.
"You heard her mom," Deeks replied dejectedly, "she doesn't want me anywhere near—"
"She was upset Deeks, her daughter's body was just found after she was missing for twenty two years. I'm sure she didn't really mean—"
"She did. And I don't blame her. She had every right to be furious, she's not wrong. My father was a bastard and hell, despite what Woodruffe says, we still haven't completely proved his innocence and really, you wanna know what the worst thing is Kens? I'm not sure I want him to be proven innocent..." he trailed off, his voice crackling as he swerved into motion, pacing back and forth in the boatshed.
Kensi bit her lip as she watched him dart back and forth, back and forth, back and—
His phone began to ring again, vibrating across the table.
Kensi snatched it up and answered it before Deeks could move an inch.
"Detective Deeks' phone," she said politely as her partner scowled at her.
"Uh hang on," she lowered the phone from her ear slowly before offering it to him with an incomprehensible look on her face.
Deeks frowned and took it from her, starting to pace again as he spoke.
"Deeks..."
"You get a secretary Deeks? She sounds hot..." came a very familiar, very unwelcome voice.
The liaison's jaw clenched tightly.
"What do you want Harris?" he sighed, not in the mood for the detective's antics.
Kensi watched intently as he suddenly halted, his shoulders tensing.
"Uh huh, yeah, okay fine," he murmured before hanging up and turning around to catch his partner's eye.
"That was Harris, Bates wants me back at the station for a progress report...you can head back to Ops if you like? I'll meet you back there..." he trailed off, running a hand through his blond tresses.
Kensi knew a polite brush-off when she heard one. Even though she didn't like the idea of him going alone, she knew that the presence of an agent at the LAPD would be questioned (she barely got away with it that morning) and not wholly welcome, to say the least.
"Okay, sure, call me if you need me?"
She tried to smother the worry in her tone but didn't quite succeed. By the look of his face, Deeks was most certainly not looking forward to going back to the LAPD and really, after what happened with Andi's mother Kensi didn't think he could handle much more histrionics.
Here's to hoping they'd catch a break soon...
"I'm doing this to help Deeks, I'm doing this to help Deeks..." Nell Jones murmured over and over to herself as she clicked through endless police reports and Gordon John Brandel's incredibly long rap sheet.
After lacing through many 'drunk and disorderly' reports dating back to the early 60s, Nell decided to change tactics and branched out her search to more serious charges from the last two decades before Brandel's death.
Several red flags popped up as her search was hit with sealed records, at least a dozen of them. With a bite of her lip, she chanced a glance at the door before she used a couple of tricks that were a little less on the legal side than she would have preferred and began to slowly unseal them, all the time reminding herself that this was to help Deeks, her colleague and friend.
"I'm doing this for Deeks, I'm doing this for Deeks, I'm doing this for...oh my god..." she gasped as she read the through the first file, her eyes widening in horror as she drank in the image that accompanied it.
Her heart hammered in her chest uncomfortably as her slightly quivering hand scrolled down with the mouse, the images becoming more and more disturbing...and yet she was transfixed, her eyes glued to the screen in revulsion.
It was a can of worms she couldn't reseal. It was something she couldn't unsee, couldn't forget...
What the hell had she done?
With a roll of his shoulders to try and ease the rising tension that was knotting at the base of his neck, Marty Deeks took a deep breath and pushed through the doors of the station, keeping his head down as he made his way to Lieutenant Bates' office. It had been a long day, a tiring day and he wanted to get this 'progress report' over and done with as quickly as possible.
He knew of course, that it was more of a grilling than anything (he didn't have a clue what kind of strings Hetty must have pulled to get him on the case but whatever they were pissed off Bates royally and that spelled bad things for the liaison if he didn't thread lightly) and he wasn't looking forward to it.
Just as he made his way into the bullpen, something caught his attention that made him hang back and duck behind the wall, eyebrows furrowed as he overheard the conversation of Detective Harris, Kinney and oddly Logan Banks.
What the hell is he doing here?
"And I told him, Deeks...you can't do that man, I mean—"
"Yeah Deeks is always pulling dick moves like that," Detective Kinney interrupted Banks, "seriously, ever since he became a 'liaison' for those Naval assholes he's become even more of an annoying jackass. Practically any case we get nowadays he comes and hijacks it like he's a freakin' fed, I mean, did you see how he magically talked his way onto the Fay Benson case? Where there's no Navy affiliation and with his mysterious ties to a suspect—"
"Yeah, what are those ties exactly Banks? We never did get the full story..." Harris interjected, raw curiosity colouring his tone.
"Well," Banks began and even though Deeks couldn't see him he could hear his smug grin, "Deeks has a bit of a...chequered past. Let's just say that crime is in his blood...he would have made a decent defense lawyer for a certain kind of clientele, if he wasn't so much of a bleeding heart. And yeah, he was okay once upon a time, a little undisciplined but okay. But his sob story past always coloured his actions and it got real old real fast, trust me.
"I knew from day one that he didn't belong in a court room with the rest of us, he never had the right etiquette for it so when he outta the blue decided he wanted to leave and become a cop I can't say I was too broke up about it. He never said why he wanted to be a cop, it was all a bit random to me, but a guy like him never really fits in anywhere really, especially back then, he was a little too uh...well, I won't say damaged but—"
Deeks' blood boiled in his veins, red-hot fury flowing through his entire body. Before he could stop himself, he was storming over to where the detectives and lawyer sat, coffee cups and pizza boxes littering their desks, effectively cutting off whatever else Banks was going to say with folded arms and a pointed glare.
"Oh hey Banks, don't stop on my account. What were you gonna say buddy? I'm not damaged but...?"
The lawyer's mouth dropped open in shock, gaping like a fish as he struggled and failed to produce words.
"You know, it's funny..." Deeks began with a humourless laugh, "I worked three jobs to put myself through law school and when I finally got there I still had to take crap from pricks like you who thought they were above the rest of us because you had money. But really, it was my own fault I mean, like you said, who the hell did I think I was anyway? I was nothing more than a damaged child from a broken home and had no business being anything more than that.
"I had no right to ever aspire to be anything else, do anything else with my life. What the hell did I know about being rich and successful like you? What did I ever do that was worth a damn? That merited standing beside the likes of you in a court room huh? Apparently nothing! So you wonder why I became a cop? I'll tell you why, to protect the innocent from the scum of the earth that people like you represent. That's why."
Without realizing it, Deeks had gotten right up into Banks' face, clutching the collar of his shirt in one fist and poking him in the chest with the other.
"Whoa Deeks, relax man he—"
"Mind your own business Harris, this doesn't concern you," the liaison growled, his glare never faltering from Logan's (now very fearful) face. He could feel many eyes burning holes into him but he didn't care, he just leaned forward and hissed:
"So tell me Banks, why did you become a lawyer huh? To please Mommy? To make Daddy proud? Or was it so you could make a buck on every criminal that you let back onto the streets of Los Angeles? Yeah...that sounds about right..." he trailed off for a moment before catching Harris' eyes, "and really, you're hanging out with a bunch of cops? I thought the blue collar types were beneath you, or is it just guys like me that are beneath you?"
The lawyer continued to gape, inaudible words falling from his lips.
"Come on Deeks; stop being so sensitive man..." Kinney stepped forward and gripped his shoulder but Deeks' hand jumped out and shoved him roughly away, so rough in fact that it caused the man to stumble back into the desk, his back bouncing off it with a loud thump.
"This is none of your business either Kinney," the liaison growled, his other hand tightening on Banks' collar, pulling him in closer as he spat, venom dripping from every syllable, "so tell me Banks, how long was I gone before you—"
Suddenly, Deeks was shoved to the side as a heavy weight leapt on him, tackling him into the wall, smashing his face into a framed picture of the old chief shaking hands with a senator.
"Kinney, stop! He's not worth it," Harris sprung forward, pulling his partner off the liaison.
Deeks' jaw clenched as he straightened up, his eyes falling on the now shattered frame of the photograph. Attentively, he reached up to his left cheek and was shocked to find that it was wet. Slowly, he lowered his fingers and found that they were stained crimson. He was bleeding.
Taking deep breaths, his more rational side pleaded with him to keep his cool, not waste his time and energy on these idiots. Wiping the back of his hand across his cheek, he stepped back over to the man he once called a friend and glared down into his dark eyes, hoping that his nonverbal message was being well received. But it seemed Banks had found his backbone and glared right back, opening his mouth, pointed words tumbling from his lips.
"What're you gonna do now Marty?" his asked quietly, for their ears only as his voice was barely above a whisper when they regarded each other, "you gonna hit me like your father hit you?"
The last syllable had barely left his mouth before Deeks lunged forward, his body acting on autopilot, ignoring the screams of protest from both his mind and the numerous cops around him, grabbing a fistful of Banks' shirt and—
"DEEKS!" a furious yell halted his motions, his fight fist suspended in the air, Banks' face screwed up in anticipation, his eyes clamped shut.
The detective's mouth dropped open and he released Logan immediately, his hands shaking as he stumbled back and looked up towards the voice that yelled his name.
Lieutenant Bates' livid face was a not-so-welcome surprise.
"My office. Now."
The room was plunged into silence as Deeks shuffled past the men and many other of his colleagues, head hung lowly as he entered Bates' office and shut the door behind him with a snap, standing stock still and waiting, ignoring the trickle of blood that had pooled at the nape of his neck.
"Attacking a defense attorney on our turf? Have you lost your mind Deeks?" Bates yelled, his arms slashing through the air as he paced back and forth.
"Badge and gun, now," he halted suddenly, holding out his hand.
"But—"
"I knew it was a mistake allowing you to consult on this case...but that damn woman..." he trailed off a moment before taking another step toward the liaison, "as of now you're off this case, suspended until further notice. Now I'll ask one more time, badge and gun..."
Deeks grit his teeth and shoved them into his hands before whirling around, storming out and slamming the door behind him, ignoring the leers and smug smirks that followed him every inch of the way...
Henrietta Lange heaved a soft sigh as she stared down at a file on her desk. Entwined-fingers pressed to a thin mouth as she thought back over the conversation she had had with Detective Bates not an hour before. A pit of worry simmered low in her stomach as he informed her of the events that occurred, the worst of what she feared had apparently come to pass.
Mr. Deeks was not handling the situation well.
With a soft sigh, she glanced up to find the detective that occupied her thoughts to be right in front of her, head hung low as he shuffled into the bullpen, finding it to be empty and standing motionless at his desk, seemingly staring off into space.
Before Hetty could get up from her desk and approach him, the liaison shook his head and made his way towards the gym, his body still the epitome of defeat, sadness and despair. It was not a look he wore well.
He could feel the hawk-like-eyes boring into his back as he made his way into the gym but he ignored them steadily, not particularly in the mood for another life lesson or lecture or riddle, wrapped in an enigma shrouded in mystery from the infamous Henrietta Lange. It had been a hell of a day, far too long and distressing by anyone's standards and right now all he wanted to do was hit something hard, and for a long period of time until his knuckles bled and his fingers grew numb. And hey, if he was envisioning Logan Banks' face the entire time, so be it.
The detective stopped in his tracks as he saw three very familiar figures in the middle of the gym, two sparring and the other sitting on the bench, cell-phone in hand.
"Deeks," his partner acknowledged, pocketing her phone and standing up, her brow furrowing as she drank in his marred face.
"What happened?" she asked, her tone drenched with concern, her teeth edging out to chomp on her lower lip as her polychrome eyes raked over his skin, inch by discoloured inch, halting on the long, crimson gash across his cheek.
"I'm fine," he murmured, stepping past her and over to where Callen and Sam stood clad in protective helmets and gloved hands.
"That wasn't my question," she grumbled, following him, arms folded as he began to wrap his hands and don a pair of gloves.
"I got the winner," he announced just as Callen swung at Sam, his glove hitting the side of Sam's helmet, knocking him to the ground.
"You're on," the team-leader nodded, before offering a hand down to his partner. Sam took it with a scowl on his face, pulling himself up before he went to stand beside Kensi who watched on with a frown as Deeks stepped closer to Callen, each bumping fists before circling each other.
"So Deeks, there's been something I wanna ask you..." he started softly as Deeks threw his left hook and he dodged it swiftly.
"Oh yeah? And what's that?" he asked as Callen retaliated with a right hook that met nothing but air.
"Sergeant James Woodruffe...how long you know him?"
Deeks shrugged, delivering a blow to Callen's side, a little harder than was absolutely necessary.
"Met him back when I was a kid, why?" he asked, a hint of suspicion seeping into his tone.
"And did he ever talk to you about the Fay Benson disappearance back then?" Callen retaliated with a glove to Deeks' shoulder.
"Nope," he replied, ignoring the dull ache in his shoulder and blocking the next blow easily.
Kensi and Sam watched intently as their partners sparred, a little more aggressively than any of them were used to. On the surface, it may have looked like just like a more intensive mode of training but they knew better. There was something else going on here, they could feel the undercurrents in the conversation – it sizzling between the two men as they circled one another, they gazes locked as they exchanged words back and forth with the occasional strategic move thrown in.
"So what, now he just shows up twenty-two years after the fact, outta the blue and offers his services? How did he even know about the body? How did he know it was Fay Benson if that wasn't released to the press yet? I mean, who is this guy Dee—"
Deeks swung a right hook, catching Callen in the ribs, more of a push than a punch. The team-leader took a step back, tensing, apparently sensing that he'd hit a nerve.
"Jimmy Woodruffe is a good man. I've known him since I was a kid, he bought me a hotdog once," Deeks grumbled and Kensi couldn't hide the look of surprise on her face. Her partner hadn't let on that he actually completely remembered the detective, hadn't offered up information to him or her for that matter.
"He—"Deeks cleared his throat, "he would come to my house every once in a while and talk with me and my mom and—"
"People change, Deeks," Callen interrupted, weight and wisdom laced in his words. "I mean, this whole case reeks of corrupt cop. Do you know that he never did a follow-up on either Jenkins or Maxwell? I mean, I'm not a cop but that seems pretty standard detective work. And Eric dug up some of his financials and—"
"Wait, just who's on trial here Callen? The suspects or the cops?" Deeks halted completely, glaring at his colleague.
"What if they're one in the same?" the agent asked, standing still too, meeting the blond's glare, "there are things about your friend you don't know, you gotta face that Deeks—"
"Hey, I think I've heard this song before...I just...can't remember where..." he tapped his chin with his glove theatrically before taking them off and throwing them to the floor, clicking his fingers, "oh yeah, when Ray was in town. Do you have it out for all my friends Callen or just the—
"I was right though Deeks, Ray was hiding something from you—"
"Yeah the mother of his unborn child, last time I checked that wasn't a criminal offense...neither is having a few gambling debts, but please, if you learned a different set of laws than me Counsellor Callen feel free to correct me."
Callen frowned, looking pensive.
"How do you know Woodruffe has gambling debts?"
Deeks rolled his eyes.
"I know you guys forget this sometimes but I am a detective and am perfectly capable of doing a background check. Contrary to popular belief I'm not a complete moron," he snapped, bending down to grab a bottle of water and taking a large gulp.
Callen shook his head and folded his arms as the liaison put down his drink and straightened up, chin tilted indignantly.
"But that's all I found. Woodruffe is completely clean, a decorated ex-cop who—"
"Look Deeks, you can ignore this all you want but...did you never think why Woodruffe dropped the investigation so quickly?" Callen asked, taking a minute step towards him, ridding himself of his gloves too.
"What?"
"It adds up, he had gambling debts...he may not be directly involved in the murder but maybe someone paid him off?"
"What are you basing this on exactly, Colonel Mustard?" Deeks asked, an angry line forming between his eyebrows.
"On deductive reasoning and facts Deeks, which is what you should be doing...but you're not, because you're too close to this." Callen replied lowly but firmly, very aware of the rising tension in the room.
"What the hell does that mean?" the liaison growled, hands on his hips, staring the agent down as he stepped even closer to him.
"What happened to your face?" Callen asked, halting two feet from his colleague, looking pointedly at Deeks' left cheek.
"I—"
"Let me guess, one of the guys from LAPD said the wrong thing and you snapped?" he asked, it sounding a little more like a statement rather than a question. He knew that was what happened, had seen it coming a mile off and felt for the detective, he'd been there once, twice, a few times. Tackling your demons was never easy.
Deeks' silence spoke volumes.
"And Lieutenant Bates called Hetty...said you've been suspended. See what I mean? You're too close to this. You should just—"
"I should what, Callen, huh? Forget about the case? About everything that Fay went through—"
"What you went through."
"What?" Deeks breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly as they stared silently at each other.
"You—you want me to forget..." he trailed off, a humourless chuckle erupting from his chest, "ha, you don't get it do ya Callen? That's the one thing I can't do! It's funny though isn't it? You can't remember your father and I can't forget mine...not for lack of trying I'll tell ya that," he snorted, rubbing the back of his neck and catching his partner's eye for a moment.
Kensi attentively took a step forward, edging a little closer to him, her hand rising in a nonverbal sign that he should calm down. Deeks just turned his head away, growing more agitated with every passing second, the events of the day weighing down on his shoulders as he stepped ever closer to Callen.
"I gotta say though, you're being a lot more hypocritical than usual lately. How'd you like it if I told you to forget about your past huh? How'd you like it if I brought up something incredibly painful about your life only to brush it off like it was nothing? Like if I said well, sure maybe I did have a crappy childhood but at least I know what the 'M' in my name stands for...G."
Callen's jaw tightened at Deeks' not-so-subtle dig as Kensi audibly gasped and Sam's entire body tensed.
"I'd say..." Callen began evenly, "that you are letting this case get to you and that you're lashing out at the people that are trying to help you because you're in pain and not dealing with it, probably have never dealt with it since you were a kid. I would say that it's not your fault that you had a crappy childhood but you still shouldn't let it affect your professionalism..."
Deeks snorted at that, finding what he just said to be one of the most incredibly hypocritical things Callen had ever said, considering the entire Chameleon debacle but before he could voice these thoughts, the agent continued:
"You should talk to someone. Because really Deeks, if you start down that road alone, there may be no return and you could repeat the mistakes of your father."
It was if a switch had been flipped in the liaison and all the pain, worry, anxiety and anger from the last few days, months, years pooled into his chest and reared its ugly head as he grit his teeth and fought to control the fury that threatened to engulf him.
Suddenly, it wasn't Callen that was standing before him, it was Banks, with his leering, smug face, criticizing his abilities as a lawyer, questioning his career change, comparing him to his father just like that and before he could stop himself, it was all too much...
Deeks smashed his fist into his face, envisioning that it was Banks that faltered, it was Banks that stared up at him with a mixture of shock and confusion and it was Banks that held up his hands to guard himself from the flurry of pain that flowed straight from Deeks' soul right down into his fist that connected roughly with his shoulder.
"Deeks! Stop!" a voice screamed around them but all he could hear was his frantic heartbeat thumping in his ears.
Suddenly, a shock of pain pierced his jaw, as a fist collided with it and he stumbled back a little, clutching his face. The dull ache spat him from his trance as his eyes darted to his left.
As he stared down at Callen sitting on the floor, with his reddened, swollen and cut cheek, his face suddenly morphed from Banks into an image of a younger blond boy, his skin tinged purple with bruises, his sky-blue eyes firmly shut, tears rolling down his swollen cheek as a tall, blond, furious man towered over him, his clenched fist raised to strike, again and again until little Marty learned his lesson...
Deeks staggered back, horrified, a shiver rattling him from head to toe as the frightened little boy dissolved back into his colleague, into a grown man breathing heavily, his gleaming eyes fixed on the detective.
"I...I..." he gaped, his eyes darting from Callen to Sam to Kensi (whose eyes were shining brightly with shock, her mouth hung open) shocked and numbed and appalled at what just happened.
"Deeks..." Kensi stepped forward, reaching out to touch his shoulder but he shrugged it off, looking startled, his eyes widened, hands shaking.
"I—I gotta go," he stuttered, stumbling towards the door and whirling around, his brain firing a mile a minute as he searched for Hetty, who wasn't at her desk. Where is she, where is she, where is she!
He thundered up the stairs like a bolt of lightening, aware that his partner and colleagues were hot on his heels and stormed into Ops, startling the Nell, who jumped as if she'd been electrocuted, scrambling to click off the image from the large screens but just that second too slow.
Deeks halted, his feet glued to the floor as his glimmering eyes flickered over the vast screen, his mouth gaping wordlessly, his head tilted back.
Kensi, Sam and Callen stopped in the doorway too as the room plunged into silence, three pairs of eyes glancing from the liaison to the screen, only to stare in horror at the image that was suspended on the screen.
"What...how..." Deeks breathed as he drank in the sight of the blond boy, no more than eleven years old, one familiar blue eye swollen almost completely shut, his right cheek tinged purple and blue, his shoulders and arms visibly scathed, his clothes grubby and torn.
"I—I'm sorry I—" Nell leaned forward to rid the image from the screen but Deeks leapt into motion.
"No! No! Leave it, I mean, you clearly took the time to unseal my private medical records and police reports so why should your efforts go to waste?" he asked, his tone eerily calm as his foot began to jitter nervously across the floor.
"Deeks I—"
"So...what intelligence did you gather, analyst? Tell me, do I have classic broken child syndrome or PTSD or—" he broke off with a shake of his head, the words dying in his throat as he struggled to catch his breath, his eyes stinging unbearably.
Suddenly, a wet trail began a decent from his cheek. As he reached up to catch the blood, he found as he looked down at his wet fingers that the liquid was clear, not crimson in colour.
"Mr. Deeks..." the voice of Hetty wafted in the room but he refused to reply, trying and failing to quell the quivering of his hands.
With a sniff, the detective gave another shake of his head, wiping at the corner of his eyes with the back of his hand before glancing back up more my time at the pale, harrowed, haunted little boy on the screen.
He could feel his partner edge closer and closer to him as he felt another shiver engulf his body but he just ignored her, ignored everyone including the newly arrived Eric and began backing quickly out of the room, his head hung low.
"I—I'm suspended from the LAPD until further notice so my assistance is no longer needed here," he grumbled before swallowing deeply and turning on his heel, practically sprinting away.
"Deeks? Deeks!" Kensi yelled, beginning to take off after him, only for Callen to catch her wrist.
"Let him go Kens, he needs to—"
"What he needs is for his friends not to deliberately aggravate him," she growled, wrenching her wrist away from him, her glare intensifying as she looked around the room.
"I mean seriously, what the hell were you thinking comin' at him like that Callen? Deeks isn't a suspect or an ex-con, he's our friend, colleague and he's gone through enough, especially today without all of this shit! And what the hell is this anyway, Nell?" she whirled around, gesturing to (but not looking at, she doesn't think she'd ever be able to look at it again) the file and image of Deeks badly beaten as a young boy.
"It's—Hetty asked me to look into Gordon John Brandel again to try and find—"
"Wait, again?" Kensi asked, tilting her head to Hetty who remained silent.
"I—"
"You knew?" the agent asked suddenly, "you knew about Deeks' past? About...about what Brandel did to him? How much have you dug into our pasts Nell?"
Nell gaped at Kensi as her mismatched eyes threw sharp daggers at her, clearly pissed at the invasion of privacy and overwhelmed by everything that her partner endured.
"That's enough, Ms. Blye," Hetty interjected with her calm tone.
Kensi's head jerked down to meet Hetty's eyes, their steel never diminishing.
"Yeah, yeah you're right, it is," she agreed, her tone hard, her body rigid before she stalked out of the room and after her partner, never giving as much as a backwards glance.
Hetty had a point. Enough was enough. Deeks had gone through enough. Now was time for it all to stop, for him to take the time to try and recover from everything...if he could.
And she would be there for him, every step of the way.
The loud thump of chair being kicked to the floor reverberated through the apartment as the weary detective ran a hand through his flaxen, matted locks, a groan on his lips. Leaning down, he righted the chair he bowled over in frustration before storming over to the fridge and grabbing a beer.
Twisting the cap off, he took a long, deep gulp, wiping the back of his hand across his face before wincing at the motion. From the slap from Mrs. Benson, to the tackle from Kinney to the right hook from Callen, his left cheek had taken quite the beating today.
He frowned as that thought flowed through his brain, his mind automatically conjuring up the image that was glued to the screen in Ops of his eleven year old self, marred with cuts and bruises, posing for one of the worst photographs he'd ever take after one of the most terrifying nights he'd ever lived through in all his years.
All because his father was a drunk. A drunk with a gun who thought his wife was cheating.
Heaving his aching, tired body down on the couch, the detective looked to the six-pack of beer sitting on his table and scrunched up his nose in disgust. He knew it didn't solve anything, knew it was what made his father...what he was and yet he sat here, doing the exact same.
With a shake of his head he shoved it away, standing up and depositing the beer in his hand in the trash-can by the TV and deciding to just go to bed, sleep away the rest of this horrible day.
As he made his way to his bedroom, he stumbled into something on the floor. With a frown, he looked down at his feet and almost smiled at what he saw. It was Kensi's go-bag, her fluffy, purple slippers peeking out from the top. As he bent down to pick it up, he caught a glance of himself in the mirror and froze.
His face looked worse than he expected, an angry, jagged cut across his swollen and bruised cheek, the corner of his bottom lip split. Suddenly, he was catapulted back to the night when he shot his father and he was inspecting himself in the hospital mirror as his mom got checked over by a doctor. Tears welled up behind his eyes as he blinked rapidly, trying desperately to quell those thoughts, memories as he slowly reached up to his mouth and wiped at the caked blood that formed there and—
"Deeks? Deeks!" a voice called, interrupting him, a series of frantic knocks echoing through the door.
He knew it was only a matter of time before she showed up. He wasn't sure if he would be good company right now, but if he knew Kensi Blye (and he did) she wouldn't take no for an answer. Taking a deep breath, he trudged over to the door and unlocked it, slowly edging it open, still not able to look her in the eye.
Kensi held back a gasp, her eyes as wide as saucers when he came into view and she got a first glimpse of the physical damage he sustained today. As if involuntarily, her hand reached up, her fingers an inch from his face as they ghosted around the jagged cut, a whisper between their skin as his shimmering eyes met her soft ones.
Slowly, as if they were engaged in an odd, silent dance, he walked backwards as she stepped forwards, closing the door with her heel. She was leading, her fingers lowering from the air an inch from his cheek to brush, feather-light onto his forearm, nudging him towards the bathroom.
Their eyes never faltered from each other as his back connected gently into the closed door. With a soft smile, she leaned forward, reaching a hand around him, pressing up lightly against him as she turned the handle. Deeks fought not to stumble as the door gave way and they crossed the threshold.
Kensi quirked her eyebrow at him as she clasped his arm gently and stirred him to the sink cabinet.
"Sit," she ordered gently, pulling open drawers and doors, rifling through their contents as if she owned the place.
Deeks watched her with interest for a moment before obeying, hopping up onto the cabinet and swinging his legs back and forth as his partner whizzed around his bathroom, gathering supplies.
"Kens, I'm fine real—"
"Save it," she murmured, shuffling back to him, her arms laden with cloths and cotton balls and lotions and potions and various other creams he either hadn't seen in a while or vehemently deny ever had a home in his bathroom cabinet.
Gently, she deposited the bottles beside Deeks and turned on the faucet, filling the sink with warm water and submerging a cloth. Her partner watched on intently, transfixed on her slender hands wading through the water for a moment.
"Now this..." she began, wringing out the cloth and turning to him, "might sting a little," she finished before stepping even closer and pressing the cloth gently to his cheek, wiping softly at the cut.
Deeks grimaced a little but just kept his eyes on his partner's that were busy focusing on the task at hand, her teeth chewing on her bottom lip, something she always did when she was deep in concentration.
"So..." he murmured, as she patted around the cut, "on a scale of one to ten, how pissed is Callen?"
"Eleven," she replied without missing a beat.
"Awesome," he cleared his throat, shame rising in his chest as he reflected on his actions.
"No, I mean he's...I was talking to Sam on the way over here. Callen's pissed at himself, knows he pushed you too far and feels shit about it. Apparently, he's having some one to one time with the punch-bag," she tried to reassure him, sensing his shift in mood as his entire body tensed under her touch.
"He...he has every right to be pissed I—Kens he's got a point. I—I did snap today, not once but twice...I lunged at Banks and would have punched his lights out if Bates hadn't have interrupted," he admitted grimly, the sense of shame growing larger and larger, an intense mix of guilt and dread morphing together in the pit of his stomach.
"I'm sure he had it coming," she commented gently but apparently that was the wrong thing to say as he jerked back, away from her, his eyes shining with a sharp gleam.
"That doesn't excuse my actions though Kens. I—I should have never...I really am no better than he was..." he whispered, his throat tightening as if he were being strangled.
Kensi stepped even closer until his knees were either side of her, still wiping at his cheek as he continued, words tumbling from his lips, words he kept a tight lid on for over two decades, slipping from him like cascades of water, nothing but his words and the occasional droplets dripping from the faucet filling the small room.
"And I—sometimes I have these dreams that I do...the things he did back then and when I wake up for one terrifying moment I think – am I like him? Is that who I am? But after a while, when my heart slows back down and I wipe the sweat from my face, I remember what I do, what I have been doing the greater part of my life and I think I know that—"
"You're nothing like him," Kensi whispered, leaning up to him, her hand cupping his cheek, gently tilting his face in her direction.
"Look at me Deeks," she ordered quietly, edging his face the last few inches until they were level. Slowly, her partner looked up, his wide eyes shining softly in the moonlight, the window to his soul completely open to her for the first time – revealing everything he felt, anger, fear, pain...and something else, just a little something behind it all, something warm and gentle and just for her.
"Trust me partner," she continued, her voice still soft but with a trace of firmness as she dropped the cloth and reached up with her other hand to cup his other cheek, her two-toned eyes boring into his, "you are a lot of things, funny, smart, charismatic, and even a little bit of a show-off," she paused as they both shared a soft grin, "but most of all, you're gentle, sweet and the kindest man I have ever known. You are as far away from Gordon John Brandel as you can possibly get...and don't let anything or anyone convince you otherwise or you'll be answering to me, got it?"
He nodded gently, quietly horrified as a trickle of tears trailed down from the corner of his eyes. Kensi's face blurred as he fought to clear his misty vision but what he could see plainly was the twist of her mouth, the worry line between her eyebrows as she let out a tiny gasp and began mumbling, "hey, hey," before she stood up on her tip-toes and wrapped her arms around his neck, squeezing him to her.
With a twist of his mouth, he shook his head, his arms coming to rest at her waist as he let his eyes close, forcing down the emotion that fought so hard to break free after being pent up for so long. All he wanted to do was let go, to stop struggling with the demons that haunted his past, and now that he had, even just a little and in the presence of his partner, he felt a little of the weight that anchored his soul, lighten just a little bit.
"Come on...you need some sleep," she murmured into his neck, her breath bouncing off his skin and caught a little thrill to flow up his spine.
The fact that he made no joke about wanting to 'sleep' with her or asking if that was some sort of 'invitation' really spoke volumes about the kind of place Deeks' head was at right then. Slowly, she stepped back, her hand finding his as he jumped down from the cabinet and stood motionless, seemingly waiting for her to lead again.
"Just one more thing," she held up a small band aid between her thumb and index finger. He nodded and she stepped close to him again, sticking the band-aid just over the jagged cut before standing back to admire her handy-work.
Light eyes met dark and Kensi was pleased to see that the sadness had lifted from his gaze somewhat, she never, not for as long as she lived, wanted to see them be that dejected, that dim, ever again...
"Come on," she stepped out of the bathroom backwards, letting him lead them in their silence dance this time.
"Can we uh...can we just hang out here for a while? I—I'm not tired," he half-whispered, walking past her to the couch, not wanting to let her know that he just wasn't ready to be alone with his thoughts.
"Yeah, sure," she nodded, plonking down beside him and patting the chair for Monty to come sit beside him.
The dog (apparently sensing the shift in mood) wagged his tail happily and plonked his head on Deeks' knee, comforting him in his own way as Kensi sat down on his other side, already flicking though the TV channels and kicking off her shoes.
Deeks heaved a deep sigh, rubbing his palms on his knees as she left it on an old rerun of CHiPs. Just as he fidgeted, his hands still in motion, she caught his right hand with her left, her eyes never leaving the screen, just squeezing it gently and shuffling a little closer to him on the couch, offering him a bag of chips (her sense of humor still needed work) that she got from god knows where.
"I'm here," she said gently, her grasp tightening a little, "I'm here..."
He nodded, his cheek coming to rest on the top of her head. Her words (that were so much more than just that) washing over him, a comforting heat rising in his chest.
"Yeah..." he smiled softly, his eyes flickering down to their intertwined hands, "I know..."
And they stayed there for a long time, and this time it was he that fell asleep on her shoulder, having what must have been the first pleasant dream he'd had in days, weeks, hell, he couldn't remember when.
The case may still be there in the morning, his demons too, but at least now, at least for one night, he didn't have to fight them alone.
A/N: 14,314 WORDS! I'M SO SORRY! Hope it was worth the wait!
I know that was incredibly harrowing and emotional and exhausting but it had to be done. I hope you guys have enough energy left to review because I'd really appreciate it. It's one of the hardest things I've ever had to write (emotionally speaking) and would love some feedback :)
And yeah, I listened to A LOT of Coldplay during this so...yeah. And I apologize profusely if there are any mistakes.
NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:
"I never really believed in true love."
"Oh yeah, what changed your mind?" the ex-cop asked, following his gaze as Deeks' eyes flickered over to where his partner stood talking to Eddie.
"Ah...I see, "Jimmy smirked knowingly, "it was your girl over there."
" What?" he gaped, " Kensi's not my girl."
"And with that attitude she never will be."
PS: Oh and if you guys are wondering what Andi would look like etc. me and SuperDensi427 discussed this at length and came to the conclusion that if 'that girl' that Ray thinks Kensi looks like ever was on the show, she should be played by Missy Peregrym. So yeah, that's who I picture when I think of Andi, which is funny because Missy played an Andi/Andy in two different TV shows haha XD
Please Review!
~Cortexikid