Life, Lies and Video Surveillance
By Cortexikid
Chapter 26: Peccability AKA 'Deeks, M' Part IV (Continued)
A/N: So yeah, this ended up being technically five parts because I didn't wanna overwhelm you guys with like a 25,000+ word chapter, but I'm treating is as a continuation of 'Peccability.' Hope you don't mind...enjoy!
WOTD: PECCABILITY; Pec·ca·bil·it·y noun. Short-coming, weakness, flaw, liability to sin
She had it timed perfectly. It was coming up to lunchtime and he always went for coffee and a plain turkey sandwich in the cafe across the street around this time. So she intersected him, before he got the chance to make his getaway, fury and determination flooding in her veins as she marched up to him, head held high, her hips swaying back and forth tantalisingly.
"There you are..." she murmured softly, forcing her mouth to press in a small smile, flinging a long tendril of hair over her shoulder before biting her bottom lip.
Dark eyes narrowed as she watched him gape at her, disgust rising like bile up her throat as she saw his beady eyes gawk at her form, starting at her legs and resting on her breasts before finally managing to settle on her face.
"Hey Andi, to what do I owe the pleasure?" he asked, all trace of his nervous behaviour from a few hours earlier, gone.
"Well, I was wondering...we haven't really had the chance for a catch-up over the last few weeks...so, I'd like to have lunch with you," she patted his arm gently, pulling out all the stops.
And it worked, unsurprisingly. She barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes and kicking him where the sun don't shine. Barely.
"Uh..." he breathed, clearly weighing the pros and cons before nodding with an air of a man that won an inner battle with himself...or his father's disembodied voice in the back of his mind.
"Sure, sounds great. Lead the way."
Had she have known that all it would take to gain entry to Will Jenkins' home was ask him out to lunch and fake a migraine, she would have done it when she first became suspicious of him. She had almost jumped out of her skin when she received that phone call from Mr. Woodruffe, her worst suspicions confirmed. This was the last piece of the puzzle, the last piece to fit into the empty slot, the phantom slot that has haunted her all these years.
With the confirmation that the sliver of wood was ash, more than likely from a bat, she knew, just knew that it was him. Everything from the days following Fay's disappearance remained fresh in her mind, how Will missed the biggest baseball game of the season, how when Andi asked him to play with her a few weeks after he said he lost his bat...it all made sense. His shifty behaviour, distancing of himself from her family during one of the most difficult times in their lives...how he went from a confident, outspoken young man to a withdrawn, almost cold individual, calm, too damn calm, emotionless.
During her conversations with Mr. Woodruffe over the last few days, they hypothesized and he let her on some of his theories that he'd formed over the years. She felt bad keeping her meetings a secret from Marty but she knew that he wouldn't approve of her, a civilian, actively involved in the case of her murdered sister. But Woodruffe, (perhaps the guilt of not solving the case years before had gotten to him) he was much more lax in allowing her to be privy to such information. And she was grateful for it, truly.
Had it not been for that phone call, she would not be here, in Will Jenkins' living room, ready to finally find some tangible evidence to tie him to Fay's murder and if not that then at least steal a few stray hairs from his pillow to run a DNA test (sometimes it paid off to have a friend in the Science department).
Even as all these wild thoughts, extreme actions ran through her head, she knew, in the deep, dark recesses of her mind that this was crazy, the actions of a desperate little sister, eager to avenge her sister's death.
But she didn't care.
This was something she had to do and she'd already gotten Marty into enough trouble as it was. He had been suspended, verbally and physically assaulted by her mother...enough was enough. She had to do this alone. Sure, the thought of calling the LAPD had crossed her mind but, part of her didn't want to waste their time in the off-chance that she came up empty.
So, it was she, Andi Benson, against he, Will Jenkins. Ladies and Gentlemen, start your engines.
"You want some aspirin?" Will asked as he showed Andi to his couch, grimacing as she groaned, clutching her head and plonking herself down heavily.
"Yes, please," she murmured, lacing her tone with faux-pain, not looking him in the eye.
"Okay, wait here," he retreated, hands held up as if trying to control the situation.
Andi waited a beat until she heard him tinkering around in the kitchen; she then leapt into action, scanning the room for something, anything that caught her eye. Almost instantly, she was drawn to a glass case containing photographs, ribbons and trophies at the very end of the large room.
With the lightest footfalls that she could manage, she tip-toed to the display unit and raked her eyes over every inch of it. There were childhood photographs from infancy right up to college age in gleaming frames, all of Will standing there, smiling proudly with his parents, his high school and college diplomas clutched in his hands in both pictures.
Fay never got to graduate.
Swallowing down the seething, furious acid rising in her throat, Andi continued her rapid search, desperation growing in her veins. There had to be something, there had to be anything—
"Here you go," Will interrupted her thoughts, crossing the room and handing her some water and aspirin.
Andi took them quickly, making sure that her skin didn't touch an inch of his, staring down at the items in her hand as if they were alien objects. Paranoia rose in her chest, it occurring to her that he may have spiked the drink or the pill not being aspirin at all. So, drawing every ounce of acting ability she could, she deftly turned slightly, made it appear that she swallowed the pill (while letting it slip down her sleeve) and merely pressed her lips to the glass. After a moment, she deposited it on the coffee table and turned back to Jenkins.
"Can I use your bathroom before we go?" she asked, smiling in what she hoped was somewhat aesthetically pleasing as he nodded and motioned down the hallway.
"Great, thanks," she stepped away; acutely aware of his eyes following her every move.
Thankfully, at that moment, his telephone began to ring and she took that moment to duck into what she hoped was his bedroom, one door shy of the bathroom.
"Jenkins' residence," she heard him answer before she turned and surveyed the room quickly. It was pristinely clean, unnaturally so, especially for a bachelor. In fact, it hardly looked lived-in, resembling that of something in a store catalogue than the room of a forty-year-old man.
Quickly and quietly, Andi began to open drawers, peeking everywhere she could, again reminded that she wasn't sure what is was she was looking for and that was damn frustrating. Still, she persevered and found that after a minute or two, she had looked in every inch of the near-empty room. That just left...the closet.
Her ears perked up, listening for any sound and was comforted by the fact that she could hear Jenkins still talking on the phone. Figuring she was still running out of time, she decided to move as fast as she could, bolting over to the closet and sliding the door open slowly, grimacing as it creaked a little. Halting in her motions, she listened intently and when her ears were met by Jenkins' muffled words, she continued, finding herself facing lines and lines of immaculate suits. She couldn't say she was surprised.
With a shake of her head, she disregarded the clothes and began rummaging around on the shelf that contained various trinkets, along with dozens of pairs of loafers, sneakers, flip-flops, every conceivable type of footwear. Again, she was not surprised.
Her rummaging was making more noise than she would have liked but at this point her desperation was overriding her rationale and caution. Suddenly, a loud creak sounded throughout the room, causing her to jump wildly, her hand connecting with a multitude of boxes lined to the right of the closet. Before she stop it, they all crashed to the floor, the contents spilling out all over the floor of the closet and out into the room.
Andi gaped, utterly frozen to the spot as she heard dead silence engulf the entire house. Jenkins wasn't on the phone anymore. Quickly, she went to race out towards the bathroom when she tripped over the many small objects littering the floor. With a glare, she glanced down, something immediately catching her attention.
Her heart stopped dead in her chest. No, it couldn't be...
The world around her was extinguished in that moment, every single thing falling away as she bent down and picked up a tiny, purple bracelet, dropping it into her palm, the lettering facing upwards. B-S-E.
"Best Sister Ever," Andi whispered, a lone tear trailed down her cheek.
"Andi, what the hell are you—" Will's voice died in his throat as he halted, his feet gluing to the floor as he saw the brunette standing in the middle of his room, staring down at something in her hand as his possessions lay at her feet.
"Where is it, Will?" she spoke quietly, calmly, her eyes never leaving her palm.
"What?" he asked, swallowing deeply, a deep sense of dread rising in him.
"The murder weapon, I know you have it. I know what you did to Fay..." she gritted out, her jaw clenched, her words pure steel as she held out her hand for him to see the small, beaded trinket.
"I—"
"Where is it?" Andi yelled, her calm composure slipping, the fury rising to an unbearable level as she stared at this scum, this pathetic excuse for a human being.
Before she knew what she was doing, she was running at him, left fist raised, it connecting harshly with his jaw, her right still clutching the bracelet tightly. Jenkins stumbled back, clearly surprised by her action and before he could right himself, she had struck him again, this time with her foot, connecting with his shin with a loud thump, causing him to tumble back into the door.
Andi glared down at the man that tore her family apart, ruined their lives and cut her sister's short and raised her right hand, bracelet firmly in place and struck him again as hard as she could before he could dare look her in the eye. Her fist punched his left cheek with enough force that he was knocked down onto the floor, fully sprawled onto his back, the vibration of the fall causing the bed-side mirror to smash down onto the hard-wood floor, shards of glass flying everywhere.
The brunette took those precious moments to make her escape, stepping over him and stumbling out into the hallway. But before she could get far, a hand reached out and gripped her ankle, causing her to trip and fall face-first onto the carpeted hallway. Wrenching her foot as hard as she could, she struggled to escape his clutches but was halted by a sudden sharp pain in her calf. Crying out, her bleary eyes darted back to find a jagged shard of glass stuck in her leg.
Their eyes interlocked, her mocha orbs flashing with a fierce strength as she hiked up her other leg and propelled it into his chest, taking the chance to push herself off the floor and hobble towards the exit. Her hand reached out to open the front door when suddenly, a sharp, jagged object dug into the flesh at her throat.
"Don't move a muscle," Jenkins warned, his voice shaking just as much as the arm he snaked around her neck, pushing the shard of glass into her skin, almost to puncture point.
"Or what...you'll kill me like you killed my sister?" she spat, holding up her hands and stumbling backwards on her bad foot, barely containing a snarl as his free hand clasped her elbow.
"You—you don't know what you're talkin' about," he replied, clearly flustered.
"Oh?" Andi asked with a faux-bamboozled tone, "I don't? Well, that's funny 'cause I thought I knew damn well what I was talkin' about. It doesn't take a genius to put the pieces together...Fay was hit over the head with a blunt, rounded object made of ash, most likely a bat. You were a prized baseball player, one of the best Reseda High School ever seen...oh and yeah, there's the little fact of finding the bracelet I made Fay in a box in your closet!"
"I—" Jenkins gaped, but before he could come up with a reply, he felt a pressure, a cold, uncomfortable force at the back of his skull.
"Put the glass down, Jenkins," came the voice of Agent Kensi Blye from behind him.
Andi took that moment to propel her head back into Jenkins' face, it connecting roughly with his nose, the satisfying sound of breaking bones reaching her ears.
"Argh!" came Jenkins' muffled cry as he staggered a little, but instead of releasing Andi, he pushed her forward into the door, tightening his grip as he whirled around to face the agent.
"Kensi, don't!" Andi yelled, struggling as Will's grip tightened on her neck. She didn't want this to end in blood-shed, she wanted him to be rot in prison for the rest of his godforsaken life for what he'd done. With a grimace, she felt the drip, drip, drip of the blood from his nose fall onto her cheek, leaving a wet trail of crimson behind. Still, she couldn't help but feel damn proud of her head-butting skills.
"Let her go Jenkins," Kensi spat, weapon aimed for the kill-shot as he walked backwards towards the door, free hand reaching out to turn the handle as, as he kept the glass steady in his other, dangerously close to piercing Andi's throat.
"No, no you're not getting me on this—" suddenly he shoved Andi at Kensi, them colliding roughly, taking that moment to fling open the door and race out towards his car.
Andi scrambled out of the way as Kensi drew up her weapon and shot out, the bullet scraping against Jenkins' right thigh. The man cried out, but managed to climb into his car and start the engine, rapidly reversing out of his driveway.
"Andi, stay here, dial 911 and get that leg checked out," she yelled before sprinting out to her own car and speeding after Jenkins.
The brunette gaped, watching in awe as the agent sped away, the screech of tires echoing in the suburban neighbourhood. With a wince, she limped over to her bag and snatched up her cell-phone and with shaking fingers, dialled the first person she could think of.
"Andi? What's up is everything o—"
"Marty! I'm at Will Jenkins place. I found out he killed Fay and Kensi got here and he took off and she's chasing him and—"
"Whoa, whoa," the ever calming voice of her old friend murmured, "you just hang tight; I'll be there in five minutes."
He deserved a damn Oscar for how calm he was acting right now. Arriving at Will Jenkins' place and being greeted by an injured and shook up Andi would be enough to visibly worry anyone, especially the sight of many droplets of blood littering the floor. Add that to the fact that his partner was off pursing a suspected-murderer with no backup however and that's where Marty Deeks began to lose said cool.
"Andi, Andi you good?" he lay his palm on her shoulder gently as Woodruffe tended to her leg-wound.
"I'm good, Kensi's—"
"Yeah, I'm going after her now..." he trailed off as he frantically dialled Ops.
After two agonizingly long rings, Nell's voice came over the line:
"Deeks hi, how are—"
"Nell I need you to track Kensi, now, she's chasing Will Jenkins, he's armed and has nothin' to lose," he grimaced as the words just flew out of his mouth.
"Okay, I'm sending the coordinates to your phone right now. Listen, Deeks I'm so—"
"Gotta go," he hung up quickly, his eyes wild.
"Jimmy, you stay here with Andi, I'm gonna go and—"
"I'm going with you," Andi interrupted, attentively placing her foot to the floor. "Why do you think I didn't call the cops? I knew they wouldn't let me come along to—"
"And what the hell makes you think I'll let you come either? Andi, technically I shouldn't be going at all but Kensi is my partner and I'd never leave her without backup. It's too dangerous for civilians," he rambled, jumping into action when his phone pinged, Kensi's location flashing up on the screen.
"Okay, I got it! Andi, you and Woodruffe stay here; I'll call you as soon as I can," he raced out the door and towards his car.
"Wait! Marty!" Woodruffe shouted behind him, jogging outside into the dusk.
"You might need this," he murmured, pushing a Beretta 92FS in his hands.
At Deeks' puzzled face, Woodruffe merely shrugged nonchalantly and shoved him towards his car.
"Go, your partner needs you!"
Kensi Blye stared up into the darkening sky and was surprised to see stars out, already sparkling like fine crystal dots in cotton candy clouds. Perhaps it was the wonder of the night that caused her to get oddly whimsical, or perhaps it was the fact that oxygen was being cut off from her brain, either way, the thought floated around in her mind for a foggy moment before her senses came flooding back to her.
Dammit! She was not going out like this...
With a surge of energy fuelled by the pure frustration and fury at letting this glorified desk jockey get the drop on her in one moment when she was so epically kicking his ass (if she did say so herself) she raised up her left arm as high as she could and elbowed him sharply in the ribs. With a painful gasp, he rolled off of where he was kneeling on her abdomen, falling to the dusty ground of the open desert.
It hadn't taken the agent long to chase him down (with her superior intense driving skills) and as his luck would have it, he found himself back at the burial site of Fay Benson. Point one, to Kensi.
Still too stubborn to give in now, not when he'd gotten this far, he took the elbow to the ribs as best he could and went to lunge at the agent, but missed by feet as she leapt up off the ground, whirled around and kicked him in the jaw with enough force to shove him back down into the dirt, the dust rising like a gust of wind.
With a groan, it was Will Jenkins that was now staring up, but he didn't have luxurious view of a starry dusk, instead he was greeted by the barrel of a SIG Sauer and the glare of two dark orbs, their intensity alone enough to leave him motionless and scared for his life.
"Don't move," she spat, retrieving a zip-tie from her pocket and using her foot to push him over onto his stomach. Kneeling, she straddled him, pulling his arms unceremoniously behind his back (ignoring his cries of protest) and binding them, before straightening up and dragging him off the ground with her.
"This wasn't me...you got the wrong guy I'm not—I wanna talk to my father, let me talk to—"
Kensi hushed him with a shake as she heard footsteps approaching her. With quick-fire reactions, she held onto Jenkins with one hand, spun around and pointed her gun at the intruder with the other.
"Whoa, looks like I already missed the fun," her partner smirked, holding up his hands in surrender before shoving Woodruffe's gun into the back of jeans, under his t-shirt.
"Don't you always?" she asked with a quirk of her eyebrow, putting her weapon back in its holster.
"Not when it counts," he winked.
With a roll of her eyes, she jerked her head towards the car and stormed back to it, shoving Jenkins out in front of her.
"Please, please just listen to me! I know this looks bad but—I didn't kill Fay, she was fine when I left her please just let me ex—"
"Uh oh," Deeks murmured behind Kensi as she pushed Jenkins up against the car door, effectively cutting off his rambling.
"What's uh oh?" she asked, but before he could respond, he was drowned out by the sound of loud sirens and flashing lights as half a dozen cops cars and unmarked vehicles pulled up on all sides of them.
With a shake of their heads and exasperated expressions, the two partners glanced at one another before Deeks murmured lowly, "here comes the cavalry, better never than late..."
"Interesting party you got goin' on here, Deeks," Lieutenant Bates muttered under his breath as his officers closed off the scene.
"Don't know what you're talking about Lieutenant, I just got here," the detective smiled back innocently before watching intently as Detective Kinney made his way over to Kensi, a look of raw vehemence on his face.
"What the hell were you thinking Deeks!? Going out there, no gun, no badge, no real authority to handle that type of situation after I suspended you! Only to walk right into trap with a gun-brandishing mad-man that had nothing to lose..." he trailed off, his jaw tightening even further.
"There was no trap Bates, my partner had it under control—"
"Your partner that had no business being here in the first place because this had nothing to do with the NCIS! She was out of—"
"She got the job done, didn't she? Which is more than I can say for any of the cops here, including me," Deeks grit his teeth before pushing himself off the squad car he was resting on and stepping away, "so if I were you," he called over his shoulder, "I'd thank Agent Blye for capturing a dangerous, gun-brandishing mad-man and chalk it up to a win for the good guys."
He could feel his superior's eyes burning a hole into his back (knowing he'd probably pay for that stunt) as he nodded at his partner who was begrudgingly answering the over-animated detective's rudimentary questions with a hint of boredom on her face.
"You're an NCIS agent...remind me again how anything to do with this case is pertinent to you?" Kinney asked, notepad in hand.
"It's pertinent to my partner so it's pertinent to me. And besides, I'm a friend of Andi Benson's, a friend who became concerned after receiving a worried phone call...the fact that I managed to help apprehend a murderer in the process of checking up on said friend is merely circumstance," she shrugged, a small, innocent smile on her face.
Throwing her a small smirk, Deeks side-stepped them and covertly made his way over to an large, black car that was parked a little in the distance, picking up speed as two figures got out, having the decency to look a little sheepish.
"So...when I said stay there with Andi, you just decided that that meant 'screw what Marty says, I'll bring her along for the ride?'"
Jimmy Woodruffe gave a short snort of laughter before his eyes trained on something behind Deeks' shoulder.
"Congratulations are in order, Agent Blye," he held out his hand for her to shake as she walked away from Kinney and halted beside her partner.
Kensi smiled wryly, grasping his hand in hers before offering Andi a concerned glance.
"You okay?"
The other brunette smiled, nodding her head, "yeah, thanks to you."
"He talkin'?" Woodruffe asked, gesturing to the car that Jenkins was locked in.
The two partners regarded each other for a moment before Deeks murmured, "more like shouting. And while we couldn't ask him any questions, he managed to implicate his father in his rambling about injustice..."
Jimmy's eyebrows shot up at those words.
"Then, realizing what he just said, thought it was about time he asked for his lawyer...he ain't the brightest crayon in the box, that's for sure," the detective smirked.
"That would explain his behaviour, if his father was telling him what to do...maybe Tommy's too," Andi chimed in.
"Which means that Alf Jenkins used his status as lieutenant and his experience with crime-scenes to save his son from going down for murder," Woodruffe finished just as Kensi's cell-phone began to ring.
"Excuse me," she stepped away for a moment as Deeks continued talking to the ex-cop.
"You guys better make yourselves gone," he cautioned, "if Bates sees you here I—"
Woodruffe held up his hand, already opening the door for Andi (who nodded her thanks and hobbled in), "don't worry Marty; we just wanted to see Jenkins get what he deserved. We're going back to Ms. Benson's place...call us when you can, huh?"
"Sure, oh and here, take this," Deeks carefully retrieved the gun and handed it over to him.
Woodruffe took the gun as Deeks nodded his goodbye before he got in the car and pulled away, waving to Kensi as he drove by.
"Alright, thanks Callen," the agent murmured as she stepped back over to Deeks, before hanging up.
"What was that all about?" her partner asked as they watched Andi's car take off into the night.
"Apparently Alf Jenkins was picked up outside of a bar by uniformed officers ten minutes ago...he's joining his son at the station..."
"Huh," Deeks smirked before scratching his chin thoughtfully, "how was he found so quickly?"
Kensi grinned back, shrugging, "apparently an anonymous tip was called in...funny huh?"
The blond laughed as they climbed into their respective cars, "very funny."
Marty Deeks' eyes were glued to the pale, sweating brow of one William T. Jenkins as he sat, motionless on one side of the gleaming, steel table with Detective Alana O'Connell walking around him. Silently, another presence joined him in the small room, stopping in front of the large window masquerading as a two-way mirror, starring into the interrogation room.
"Detective O'Connell is taking lead now?" Deeks murmured under his breath to Lieutenant Bates.
He merely nodded, not offering up any particular reason for the change in detectives but Deeks wasn't born yesterday. He knew that Bates had been watching both Harris and Kinney carefully since their blow-out with him and wasn't taking any risks where this case was concerned. Especially as more and more new evidence came to light and twists and turns formed at every break in the case.
"Why don't you explain to me why Ms. Benson found her dead sister's bracelet in your bedroom?" O'Connell asked, folding her arms and sitting down opposite the rapidly perspiring man.
"I—"
"You don't have to answer that William," his lawyer, a short, thin, balding man interjected.
"Okay then...how about you explain to me why you found it necessary to stab Ms. Benson in the calf with a shard of glass?" O'Connell raised her eyebrows, her crystal blue eyes trained on Jenkins.
"Ms. Benson entered my client's home under false pretences. She then proceeded to ransack his bedroom and throw accusations around—"
"And that justifies him stabbing her?" the detective interrupted the smarmy lawyer.
"My client insists she attacked him first, he has the bruising and scratch marks to prove it," he pointed to Jenkins' eye and cheek.
Deeks couldn't contain a small smile and the feeling of warm pride that filled his chest at that. Bates threw a sideways glance at him and he rearranged his expression to something more neutral immediately.
"Which brings us back to the bracelet, the reason Ms. Benson found it necessary to fight her way out of that room. What were you doing with your dead girlfriend's bracelet, Mr. Jenkins?" O'Connell pressed, shoving an evidence bag containing the bracelet in his direction.
The nervous man's eyes lowered to the bracelet, his already shaky facade crumbling before their very eyes. It was as if everything had finally gotten too much for him and the sight of that bracelet was the symbol of all his hardship. Suddenly, before any of the people (inside the room and observing) knew it, words were tumbling from his lips like cascading water.
"I loved her, you know, Fay. She was my high school sweetheart. She was funny, kind, the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen," he broke off for a moment, biting his lip, "but she—she had this dream. This...big dream of getting the hell outta her neighbourhood, away from her overbearing father and...she never gave a thought to me, you know?"
The anticipation rose in Deeks' chest as he felt the shift in ambience. This was it. The beginning of the end.
"William, please," his lawyer pleaded, reaching out to grip his arm.
"No!" he snarled, wrenching his arm back, staring straight ahead, past O'Connell, almost as if he could see Deeks behind the glass.
"I've...I've lived with this long enough. It's time...time that I made things right," he exhaled a slow breath before squaring his shoulders, straightening up and clearing his throat. O'Connell, Deeks and Bates all visibly leaned forward, waiting with bated breath.
"She told me that night, after the movie that she was leaving...going away to college in another state and wasn't coming back. We had it all planned to go to the same college and get married after we graduated, have a couple of kids, the white picket fence, everything. And she just wanted to throw all that away because she was sick of her dad! I mean, it was just selfish!" he snarled, the more unhinged side to him making its appearance.
"And what did you do then?" O'Connell prodded, not fazed by his outburst.
"Mr. Jenkins—" his lawyer's voice was so sharp it could cut glass.
"I told Tommy to beat it. Then we went for a drive..." he swallowed deeply, his breathing labouring.
"It was nice out that night, starry, like tonight...I pulled over at the make-out spot in the desert, pleaded with her to reconsider but...she was adamant. Said that she was focused on getting out, growing up a little, forgo college to make some money so she could try and get custody of her little sister from her parents, there was no convincing her otherwise..." he trailed off, a fresh bout of tears forming in the corner of his eyes.
Deeks' heart panged painfully, his throat burning with repressed emotion.
"So yeah, things got a little heated, I yelled and she got out of the car and started to walk home. And I—I was just driving after her, I swear, I didn't want her walking home in the dark by herself but then..." he buried his face in his hands, clearly overwhelmed.
The entire room was engulfed into silence as Jenkins fought to compose himself. Deeks' eyes never wavered from his face, watching for any sign that he was anything less than genuine.
"Then?" Detective O'Connell nudged him.
He bit his lip, the tears falling from his eyes, trailing down his cheeks.
"Then she started yelling, angry words, so, so angry. See, she asked me to come with her at first, to get outta this town and 'make something of myself.' She knew I wanted to be a cop like my dad and yet—she still wanted me to give up my dream so I could come with her. I mean, how is that fair? She could have her dream of getting away from her dad but I had to slum it in some dead-end job for the rest of my life? So yeah, she started yelling, calling me a coward, too afraid to live life and instead hiding in my daddy's shadow and—dammit!" he slammed his fist down on the table, the loud thump resonating around the room.
His breathing was frantic now, his chest rising and falling, him gasping for air as if he'd just run a marathon. Deeks knew by Jenkins' face that that precise moment was flashing across his eyes like an old film reel; he was experiencing it all over again as he spoke, he was back in that desert.
"And then...I just wanted her to stop, to shut up. So I pushed her. And she kept going, over and over saying that I'd never be anything more than my daddy's puppet, his very own little protégé like what her father wanted her to be. And I think, deep down, I wanted to prove her wrong, to make her see that I could do something without his permission, something my father would never approve of and I—before I knew it I had grabbed my bat from the back seat and threatened her. That's all. I bashed it off the trunk a few times to get my message across but never—I never wanted to hurt her..." he trailed off, his voice barely audible.
"You never wanted to...but you did Will," O'Connell chimed in gently.
He nodded, sniffling and wiping at his eye.
"I did...but I didn't even realize I did at first. One minute we were just yelling and the next minute she was on the ground, face down in the dirt, blood...so much of it—" he shuddered, his eyes falling shut.
"I—I panicked, checked her pulse, felt it, it was weak, but definitely there so I put her in the back seat and drove to the nearest payphone and called my dad—"
"Mr. Jenkins!" the lawyer held up his hand, turning to O'Connell, "detective, I wish to have a word with my client at this time. He—"
"No!" Will pushed away from the table, his chair screeching on the floor loudly, as he bolted up and began pacing back and forth.
"I called my dad and told him where I was. He—he told me to drive back to where it happened and wait for him. So I did. After about ten minutes, he got there, saw what I'd done, checked Fay's pulse, s—shook his head," he swallowed deeply, halting for a moment before biting his lip, "he shook his head, said that she had no pulse and ordered me to go home..."
It was as if all of the oxygen had been sucked out of the room. Deeks gaped at this revelation, horrified at the fact that not only was this act committed on an innocent young girl but with the help of a member of the community that was supposed to serve and protect. It made him sick to his stomach.
"And all I know is that he arrived home a couple of hours later, came into my room and told me that everything was going to be okay..." he rested his head back against the wall, staring up at the ceiling.
"The next morning I—I found her bracelet under the seat in the car...it must have fallen off when I put her—" he broke off with a shake of his head, "so I just put it in my pocket and kept it. The days after that, my dad coached me through what to say and—and made me convince Tommy to lie...say that I left right after the movie because I had to get up early..."
O'Connell nodded, making a note.
"And what about Tommy coming forward and confessing to the crime? Did you coerce—"
"No! I knew nothing about that...I don't know why he did that, my dad must have—" he frantically waved his hands, beginning his pacing once more, the gravity of the situation hiking up his anxiety levels.
"Tommy was always afraid of my dad..."
The detective made another note, her face grim.
"I—I went back for a while," he lamented, his gaze unfocused, "to…to where she was…" he trailed off, swallowing deeply, "Mr Brandel saw me there once. I—the way he looked at me…I think he knew…" he shuddered.
Deeks eyes lowered. Looks like his old man had put two and two together. Pity the bastard wasn't decent enough to report his suspicions. No, instead he decided to torture his cell-mate into thinking he committed the murder… With a shake of his head, the detective mentally added that to the list of things he hated about that man. Good riddance to him.
With one final nod, O'Connell gave a swift glance to the mirror before standing up and addressing both the lawyer and Jenkins, "Mr. Jenkins, I'm hereby arresting you on the assault of Andrea Benson and the murder of Fay Benson. You have the right to remain silent, anything you say or do can be held against you in a court of law—"
Deeks turned away from mirror and glanced at Bates who looked just as grim as he felt.
They had their guy...and their other guy in the next room, ex-Lieutenant Jenkins.
This should be a win...
But it didn't feel like one.
"Thanks Eric, I'll pass that on," Kensi murmured, as she pulled into the parking space.
Hanging up and pocketing her keys, she stepped out of her car before turning on her heel and walking towards through the near-empty LAPD parking lot. To her right, she saw Detective Harris approach her, jaw tight, nostrils flaring.
"Detective," Kensi murmured to Harris, barely restraining and eye roll.
"Oh, I recognize that voice..." Harris jeered, "you must be the sexy secretary that answers Deeks' phone," he finished, looking particularly pleased with himself before the smug grin rapidly disappeared when Kensi folded her arms across her chest, regarding him with a stare worthy of Medusa.
"I'm his partner, not his secretary," she replied, her tone pure steel as she eyed the minute quivering of his Adam's apple as he silently drank in her general badassery.
"And as his partner, there are some things you need to know," she continued, stepping towards Harris, the steely tone never wavering, "Marty Deeks is one the best detectives this department has ever had the pleasure of having. Not only has he helped close dozens and dozens of cases over the years, but he's also exposed a mole in your department, helped solve a twenty year old homicide that had you and your partner scratching your heads and exposed the true colours of one of your own. How long have you been here again Harris? Longer than Deeks so...that means you must have served under Alf Jenkins, right?"
She took a step towards him, tilting her head, reflecting on the short, albeit interesting conversation she just had with Eric.
"Imagine, not having the slightest idea that he helped his own son dispose of the body of a seventeen year old girl and hide the truth all these years, slowly but surely being awarded for honor and bravery and 'all his good work' before finally retiring a decorated cop and a pillar of the community, all the while only being suspected of any wrongdoing by one, ONE of his men..." she trailed off, disgust now lacing her tone.
She took another step forward, staring right into Harris' face, jaw set, nostrils flaring, copying his previous expression perfectly.
"The name James Woodruffe ring a bell, Harris?"
At his clearly forced blank expression she snorted, not surprised that this pathetic excuse for a cop would feign memory loss rather than own up to his past mistakes.
"Well it should...aren't you one of the rookies back in '91 that reported his apparent 'erratic' behaviour when he tried investigating Will Jenkins? Weren't you the one that brought it to Alf Jenkins' attention that Woodruffe was, oh how did you put it?" she paused for dramatic effect, scratching her chin in a faux-pensive movement.
"Oh yeah!" she snapped her fingers before taking the last step and closing the distance, barely a foot between them, staring the detective down, her polychrome eyes shining in the moonlight, "you said he was 'losing his marbles' and was 'sniffing around the kid to try and get the boss's job.' And it was those comments, those snide, ignorant, untrue statements that not only helped ruin the reputation of a good cop but also helped a very bad cop get away with covering up a murder for over twenty years. You must be so proud," she halted, her nose wrinkling with disgust, "and yet, despite everything, you still stand there and—"
Suddenly Kensi was pulled back roughly by the arm, but before the unknown assailant could gain any distance between them, the agent whirled around and caught their wrist, twisting it harshly and wrenching it behind their back, shoving them down onto the hood of a cop-car, throwing her full weight onto their back.
"Oomph!" the man exclaimed as his face was slammed down onto the vehicle with considerable force. "Get off me you crazy bitch, you're assaulting a police officer!"
It was at those words, Kensi registered that it was none other than Detective Kinney that lay pinned underneath her.
"Oh, you mean how you assaulted Detective Deeks?" she asked, glaring down at the side of his face as he tried to look up and behind him.
"That—that was different," Kinney ground out, his breathing laboured as she kept the pressure on him.
"Really? Doesn't seem like it...I mean, from what I hear, Deeks was defending himself from slander and you went and made it physical...pretty crappy thing to do to your colleague if you ask me."
"He's not one of us," he snarled, venom dripping from his words.
Kensi nodded, lips in a thin line as she finally released him, watching intently as he stood up and turned to face her.
"You're absolutely right detective," she began, her eyes boring into him, "Deeks is nothing like you or your partner...he has integrity, honor and bravery, which is more than I can say for either of you," she finished, stepping back and turning away.
"Hey, I'm not finished with you yet," Kinney scrambled to follow her, his palm falling on her shoulder. Kensi stopped dead in her tracks, her back still to him.
"We still have—" whatever the detective was going to say was cut short as the agent shook off his hand and whirled around, her foot connecting roughly with his nom de plums.
Falling to his knees, Kinney tried to catch his breath as he stared up at Kensi's face, illuminated in the moonlight, her expression one of pure innocence.
"Oops..." she murmured softly, "my foot slipped," she smirked before turning on her heel and stalking off without a backwards glance, leaving both detectives open-mouthed and eating her dust.
Served them right. The bastards.
"My office Deeks, ten minutes," Bates said as they stepped out of the viewing room and into the hallway of the LAPD.
Deeks nodded, an unease settling into his gut as he scanned the place for any sign of his partner. He knew she was here somewhere giving a statement but he wasn't sure where. Digging his hand into his pocket, he went to press number one on his speed-dial when he heard his named being called or rather, his old name.
"Well if it isn't little Martin Brandel," the voice called from somewhere to his left.
Puzzled, Deeks turned and looked up, his mouth hanging open at the sight before him. There, not twenty feet in front of him, stood Alf Jenkins, accompanied by a uniformed officer, his hands cuffed behind his back.
"Jenkins," he murmured in reply, not really interested in having any sort of dialogue with this scum.
"You know, I remember you back when you were a kid..." he mused as the uniformed officer pushed him forward, down the hallway.
"Yeah, I remember you and your slime-ball father too...funny, there was one thing I always told myself whenever I'd come across either one of you," he snarled as he halted a few feet from the detective.
"Oh yeah? What was that?" Deeks asked, his eyes blazing, "I must not help kill any of his friends? 'Cause it looks like you broke that one..."
The elder Jenkins threw back his head and gave a humorless laugh.
"No, my main philosophy was and still is: you can never trust anything a Brandel says...they're nothing but cheats, drunks and liars, if your father is anything to go by anyhow," he glared, "so I got myself someone who could cut through your bullshit if we ever meet in court, isn't that right Logan?"
Deeks' eyes bulged as Logan Banks stepped out from behind Jenkins and the officer like some sort of creepy pantomime character, his smug smile practically radiating from his face.
"That's right, Mr. Jenkins," he agreed, his eyes never leaving the detective who was growing more furious with each passing second.
"You're representing that scum-bag?" he gritted, his jaw tightening so much it hurt, his hands balled into fists and shaking at his sides as Jenkins was pushed further past him and into another room by the cop.
"Well, I can't just have high-rollers and low-level gangsters on my bill, a cop or two sprinkled in is always a nice touch," he half-whispered, leaning right up into Deeks' face.
"A dirty cop who helped dispose of a seventeen year old girl's body after his son murdered her," he spat back, using his height to his advantage and staring down the lawyer.
"Now now, Detective, I won't have you slandering my client with your wild allegations," he tapped Deeks' shoulder nonchalantly before stepping around him and following Jenkins, a spring in his step.
Marty Deeks was fuming. His blood boiled in his veins as hot acid rose in his throat. He couldn't take much more, this, all of it, everything was culminating, snow-balling into one big mound of pent up rage that was just a ticking time bomb that would explode any minute now...
"Yo Deeks!" Detective Ryan Kinney yelled as he stormed into the bull-pen, halting a foot from him and shoving him roughly.
Tick, tick, tick...
"You misplace your balls or do they belong to your partner now?" he spat as Harris joined him, looking equally pissed.
"What are you—"
"I mean, how much of a pussy does a guy gotta be to get a chick to fight his battles for him?" Kinney cut across him with another shove to his shoulder.
Tick, tick, tick...
"And I mean seriously, the last thing I'd be doing if I had a partner as hot as Blye would be hiding behind her apron strings...I'd be banging her so har—"
"Shut the fuck up Kinney! Don't you dare talk about my partner like that you sonofabitch!" Deeks snapped, his knuckles cracking as his entire body began to shake.
Tick, tick, tick...
"Ooh, have I touched a nerve, Deeks? And here I thought you would've given up bedding your partners after what happened to Traynor—"
Boom!
Deeks lunged for Kinney, his fingers wrapping around his throat as he slammed him back against the wall, his fist rising to punch the godforsaken bastard in the mouth.
"Deeks!" Bates yelled, storming out into the bull-pen, not believing he was catching the same two detectives in a brawl less than 48 hours after the first.
"Deeks, my office now!" he pointed to the room with a glare. "And as for you two," he continued as Deeks reluctantly let go of Kinney and stepped past him, "I'll deal with you later..." before racing to his office and slamming the door in their faces.
"What the hell is the matter with you?!" he hissed, turning around to address Deeks who was frantically pacing his office, his breathing laboured as he tried and failed to calm the hell down.
"What's the matter with me? Are you serious! That guy deserves a hell of a lot more than a punch to—"
"I know, I know, I heard him...but that doesn't give you the excuse to lose your shit Deeks! It's been happening far too often since this case came up and I really don't know how we're gonna go forward if—"
"What's gonna happen to Alf Jenkins?" the detective cut across his boss, not in the mood to discuss his career right now as both Jenkins' words and Kinney's flashed through his brain.
"We don't have enough to charge him," he sighed, not happy with the change of subject.
Deeks gaped as Bates walked around his desk and took a seat.
"But—Will confessed! You heard him!" the detective shook his head, his mind racing a mile a minute as he reflected on the interrogation.
"It's a matter of he said, he said, Deeks...there is no tangible evidence that ties Alfred Jenkins to the scene and he denies knowing anything about it. Now Will? He's definitely going down, the lab took a sample of his hair and tested it against the hair found on the body and it was a match. That and his confession, those two things alone, may sway a jury but that isn't our job here..."
"And Alf Jenkins?"
"Like I said, no tangible proof that he helped dispose of her body. And the fact that he's a decorated cop is working against us. But, we are launching an investigation into his actions back then, his string-pulling when it came to the case, his discrediting Sergeant Woodruffe with the help of Harris—"
"But he gets away with aiding and abetting a murderer?"
"For now, yeah, it seems that way," Bates sighed, running a hand down his face before fixing his jumpy detective with a state. "You know..." he continued, "I'm really beginning to re-evaluate your ability to do this job without causing some sort of cluster fuc—"
"Excuse me, but I didn't 'cause' anything!" Deeks interrupted, his head snapping up, his tone dripping with venom.
There was a beat of silence as the two men regarded each other, one fuming, hands clenched tightly at his sides as the other took a moment to quietly contemplate, seemingly inwardly arguing with himself. After what felt like an eternity, the elder man's face lost a little of its steel edge, not quite softened, but grew a little less intense.
"But—" Bates held up his hands in surrender, "as much as I hate to admit it, you're a damn good cop, Deeks. Reckless and disobedient but, I gotta say, your determination and persistence to see this case to the end no matter what the cost to your personal well-being and career is admirable. Stupid maybe, but admirable.
"Now, we do need to have another word on protocol and proper procedure if we are going to avoid something like the careless actions you took tonight from every happening again, and I'm definitely gonna have to talk to Miss Lange about a number of factors but, after all that is said and done and you sort out whatever issues this case has uncovered in you with a shrink, I am fully prepared to reinstate you..." he finished, pushing his badge and gun across the desk, his eyes trained steadily on the blond.
Deeks took a step forward and glanced down at the badge. A bubble of laughter omitted from his lips before he could even think to stop it, surprising even himself. Bates cocked his head to the side as his detective erupted in a bout of humorless chuckles that shook his shoulders, his blue eyes bright with an almost hysterical gleam.
"You're—you're kidding me, right? This is some sort of joke?" he asked, a fanatical grin on his face.
"Of course I'm not kidding, why would I—"
"I mean, you actually think I still wanna be anywhere near here after everything that has gone down?" Deeks cut across him, throwing up his hands, all trace of humor absent from his tone as he snatched up his badge and stared down at it.
"After the blatant ignorance and idiocy of Kinney and Harris, the unwillingness to cooperate, along with the hostility towards my partner and me. Not to mention the huge overlooking in evidence, the inefficient interviewing of witnesses and the small fact that Harris helped practically bury the lead in the first place as well as destroy the reputation of one of the best cops this place has ever seen!
"But even after all that, no, there's still something so much worse than deliberately making a case cold, ruining someone's reputation and overall shoddy police work. And what's that? Oh yeah, the fact that just because someone like Alf Jenkins happens to be a 'decorated cop' he could get away with covering up a murder! When the very nature of the job is, correct me if I'm wrong Lieutenant, to serve and protect!
"People like Alf Jenkins are a disgrace to the profession and to the human race and I don't want to even serve under the same profession as scum like him anymore! Reinstated? You must be out of your mind. Thanks, but no thanks. Consider this my resignation..." he took one last glance down at the shield that once meant the world to him, but now seemed hollow and threw back down the badge before storming out of the office, slamming the door behind him.
He could feel the many eyes glued to his back as he raced through the bullpen, pumped full of adrenaline as an odd weight lifted from his shoulders. Not even the sight of Harris and Kinney standing at the end of the hall, looking as smug as ever could deter him.
"Boss finally wise up and fire your ass?" Kinney asked as Deeks made his way towards him.
"Something like that, comes with a plus side though, I won't have to deal with your ugly face anymore," he beamed as he strode past him before halting, his back to them.
"Oh but Kinney, just one more thing..." he whirled around in a flash and punched the detective as hard as he could in the stomach, before straightening up and practically skipping out of the precinct, the man's winded cries music to his ears.
Well, if that didn't help brighten this hell hole of a day just a little, nothing would.
"Thank you Agent Blye," Detective O'Connell offered her a smile as she finished taking her official statement and showed her out.
Kensi nodded in reply and made her way down the hallway, only to be blocked by a throng of people standing around staring at something. With a furrowed brow, she caught sight of what appeared to be Detective Kinney, doubled over and yelling something through gasped breath.
Before she could bask in that particularly pleasurable sight, a smug, unfamiliar voice sounded from behind her.
"Looks like Dead-Beat Deeks has done it again..."
Frowning, Kensi turned around as was met by a 5'10", stocky, brunet with an unnaturally white grin.
"Excuse me?" she replied sharply, the shock of everything adding to the ever-rising frustrating feeling of helplessness that was beginning to engulf her.
"What I mean is...this isn't the first time he lost his shit," he gestured to Kinney, "and quit careers," he finished before offering her his hand, "I'm Banks, Logan Banks, an old friend of Marty's from law-school."
Kensi stared at him, then at his hand until he dropped it, the smug smile faltering a little, his words resonating in her ears but not making an ounce of sense.
"What do you mean quit careers? Where is he?" she asked, trying to not let the mounting sense of panic invade her voice as she scanned the precinct hurriedly.
"Oh you mean you missed it? Damn, that's too bad," Banks replied, growing more animated as their conversation continued.
Kensi blanched, remembering everything Deeks told her about this guy, a cold chill creeping up her spine.
"I'm sorry; I didn't get your name, Officer...?"
"Agent Kensi Blye, Detective Deeks partner," she responded blandly, already sick of his company.
A fleeting flash of awkwardness passed over the lawyer's face before he cleared his throat and shuffled his feet, his voice certainly less such of itself than before.
"Oh, I see...hey, think you could do me a favour?"
Kensi could not believe the gall of this guy. To first insult her partner, then turn around and ask for a favour? Just who did this guy think he was?
But before she could put those thoughts into biting words, he'd already continued as if she agreed.
"Could you ask him for me, I mean really ask him – why he quit being a lawyer to become a cop? I mean, I know what he said in the heat of the moment but come on, all that fighting for the little guy bullshit—"
"Look around you Banks, I wouldn't be spreading your distaste of Deeks' career choice too loudly if I were you," Kensi leaned down to whisper in his ear, her tone leaving no room for argument, "and this is just a wild guess, but ever think he quit being a lawyer because he couldn't stand the idea of waking up one morning and realizing he turned into you? Nothing more than a lousy 'get out of jail free' card for every dead-beat criminal out there?" she asked, her whisper turning to acid.
"Have a nice life undoing the good work of law enforcement Banks, I hope the pay's worth it..."she finished before turning on her heel and storming off, her head held high.
She had enough of arrogant and ignorant bastards to last her a lifetime.
It was funny how a little thing like quitting your job made you drastically see the world as an entirely different place. Ever since he could remember, he'd drive along in his car (or walk, cycle, skate) down the streets of LA and almost subconsciously scan areas for any potential crimes being committed. It was just something that was built into him, even before he was a cop; he'd always been hyper-vigilant, always on alert to any potential danger for him or the people around him. He maintained it helped him in his career.
But now, as he drove silently along in the early-darkness a new man, no longer a cop – while that vigilance was still there (it would never actually leave him no matter how much he changed aspects of his life) he found that he took the time to look, just look at his surroundings, bask in their unique charm. Which proved to be fortunate for him tonight as had he not been surveying the many goings-on out on the street as he stopped in traffic, he wouldn't have seen the young boy, all alone, sitting at a bus-stop.
He doesn't know what compelled him, but before he knew it, he was changing lanes and slowing down to a stop. Gently, he pushed open his door and climbed out, shuffling over into the dim glow of the street light, towards the boy, hoping his movement didn't startle him.
As he drew closer, the boy's head raised, catching sight of him and instantly tensing. Shoving his hands in his pockets, the boy shuffled a little on the bench as Deeks heaved a sigh and sat down beside him, not too close.
They sat there in silence for what must have been a full five minutes before Deeks decided to break it, his voice quiet and calm.
"It's a cold night, huh?"
The boy's head snapped to his left, his eyes catching Deeks' for a split second before darting quickly away.
"Yeah..." he murmured softly, his shoulders hunching.
Another stretch of silence past before Deeks forced himself to continue.
"It's late too...how did you get out here?"
"I walked," he responded almost immediately, a little more defensive.
"By yourself?" the ex-detective couldn't help but ask, even if it did seem a little redundant.
"I'm eleven," the boy's eyes darted to him once more, the defensive tone growing stronger.
Deeks merely nodded, his eyes trained on his hands, not wanting to aggravate him. Another bout of stillness followed before he mumbled gently, injecting as much friendliness and non-threatening tones into his voice as he could:
"Where are you headed?"
The boy visibly tensed and Deeks feared this may have frightened him. He was usually so good with kids but found that nobody could come across as easily trustworthy this late at night or in this part of town. He was so worried that he may have spooked him that he almost didn't hear his reply.
"To see if they really put him away."
The response startled him and it was at that precise moment it hit Deeks who this boy was and why he seemed so familiar.
"Your mom must be worried about you..." he softly said, feeling the shift of weight on the bench as the boy shuffled.
"Come on buddy, let me take you back to—"
"I'm not supposed to go with strangers," he interrupted firmly, eyes staring straight ahead.
Deeks nodded, remembering saying those exact words himself when he was a kid.
"You're right...would you like to call her to come pick you up?" he asked instead, holding out his cell-phone.
The young man stared at it for a moment, his dark eyes glistening before he looked up into Deeks' face.
"You're a cop, aren't you?" he inquired, his jaw set firmly.
Deeks' eyebrows rose. This kid had good instincts.
"Yeah, I am," he inwardly grimaced as the voice in the back of his mind loudly corrected him, no you're not. Not anymore!
"I don't like cops," the boy boldly said, chin stuck out stubbornly.
Well, what exactly did he say to that?
"Why?" seemed like the only logical question.
"When they come to my house they—they never do anything," he stammered, his hazel orbs finding Deeks once more.
Marty's heart panged painfully in his chest at the sheer devastation in the boy's voice. Looking into his eyes, the ex-liaison saw himself, so young, so innocent and yet, so untrusting. This boy had seen unmentionable hardship in his life, so much heartache that no one should suffer in their entire life, never mind just their first eleven years.
"Listen buddy...I know you're angry and you have got every right to be. But your mom must be going out of her mind with worry looking for you; can I give her a call and let her know you're okay?"
The eleven-year-old paused, drinking in his words for a moment before guilt passed over his young face, a short nod following before he took Deeks' phone and entered his mom's number.
"Thank you," Deeks gave him a small smile before listening for the dial tone.
"Hello?" a worried voice half-yelled into the phone.
"Hi, Ms. Woods? My name is Detective Marty Deeks, I'm here with your son Dylan at the bus stop opposite the hospital...don't worry ma'am, he's safe," he assured the frantic mother over her anxious sobs.
"Oh thank god! I was just talking to my other son's doctor and when I turned around he was gone! Is he okay?" she rambled, clearly beside herself.
"He's fine Ms. Woods, here, I'll put him on," he passed the phone over to Dylan, who took it, drawing a deep breath.
"Hi mom, I'm so sorry, I'll come right back in," he sniffed into the phone, a trail of tears falling from his eyes.
After a few moments, Dylan hung up the phone, handed it back to Deeks and stood up, a forlorn look on his face.
"Thanks..." he mumbled, stepping away from the bench and towards the street.
"Dylan, wait," Deeks stood up, his body on autopilot, a thousand thoughts running through his mind as words began falling from his mouth:
"I just—I want you to know that...it won't always be this bad. It will get better, you will grow up and get stronger and—and Marcus White will become a distant memory, someone that you'll never have to worry about ever again because he's going to jail for a long, long time for what he did to your little brother. He won't be able to hurt anyone anymore, not you, not Bobby and not your mom...I can promise you that."
Dylan stared up at Deeks, the tears on his cheeks dried, his face alight with determination and a new strength. It seemed like he grew up to a man in the last five minutes. It gave Deeks hope that this kid would be okay, he would survive, just like he did.
"Thanks Detective Deeks," a small, timid smile spread across his face.
"You're welcome," he replied instantly, rising his hand in a wave and watching cautiously as Dylan returned his wave before turning on his heel and crossing the street, heading straight for the hospital entrance.
In the distance, Deeks saw a frantic blonde woman race to him, her arms thrown wide, enveloping her son in a large, warm hug. Warmth filled his chest at the very sight and suddenly he was catapulted back to a time where his mom did exactly the same thing for him.
With a gracious smile, Deeks felt the first surge of hope rise in him. If that family could make it through pain and hardship, anybody could...including him.
He'd just had to take it one day at a time.
Quiet murmurs reached the ears of Sam Hanna and G Callen as they made their way into OSP. Surprisingly, despite having a quite uneventful day (well, if anyone asked anyway) they both could feel the exhaustion creeping up on them. The case was over; the case that they weren't officially allowed to investigate and they were both relieved. A murderer had been brought to justice. A twenty-two-year-old cold case closed. For the most part, it was a good day.
With tired eyes, they glanced up as they saw Eric and Nell descending the stairs, slowly making their way down into the bullpen. Silently, the four people looked at one another, knowing that in some small way, they all helped contribute to the win today, helping close a case that meant something so much to a dear friend of theirs...and yet, something felt just so wrong without that friend being there to celebrate with them.
The absence of Deeks and Kensi was felt throughout OSP. The team feeling scattered, broken, not for the first time. It was never a nice feeling, this odd limbo-sense of knowing a bad guy had been put away but at a cost to one of their own, just like when they got rid of the Chameleon but lost Callen for a stretch.
They weren't aware what Deeks' status was anymore, when or if he'd get his job back for his actions over the course of the last few days. And it was that thought that plagued the mind of every single team member as they regarded each other.
"Why so melancholy?" the voice of Henrietta Lange asked as she entered the building, her forlorn agents the first sight she saw.
"Any word on Deeks?" Callen asked, his shoulders tensing.
The operations manager fixed him with a quiet stare before lowering her gaze, her tone even as she replied, "no, not yet."
Eric and Nell reacted physically to this news, both shuffling awkwardly whilst Sam and Callen managed to reign in their emotions.
"Poor Deeks... I can't imagine what he's going through," the intelligence-analyst mumbled softly, almost to herself.
"Mr. Deeks is strong, he will be fine," Hetty assured instantly, not hesitating in the slightest before deftly changing the subject.
"Now, you have all had a long day...it can be quite tiring being idle," she mused pointedly, a humorous twist to her lips, "I suggest you all go home and get a good night's sleep. I can guarantee that tomorrow will be certainly more eventful."
They all nodded, managing tired smiles, Eric and Nell waving their goodbyes as Sam and Callen packed up their stuff.
"Hey Sam, wanna go for a beer?" Callen asked as Hetty made her way towards her office.
Sam reflected on the last few days, his wife and daughter floating into his mind, bringing a smile to his face.
"Nah, not tonight partner...I'm gonna go home, have an early night, maybe tuck my baby in...you're welcome to come over, watch the game? I got that beer you like."
Callen threw his partner a smile as he realized what it was he was doing. They were all being a little introspective since Deeks' troubled family life came to light. It had made him think of his own solitary existence; made Sam think of his family, his relationship with his daughter...this case (and all the revelations it brought with it) wouldn't be something either of them would forget anytime soon.
"Thanks man, that sounds great," he accepted his offer, knowing that these people, his team, however dissimilar to him, were his version of family and if this case thought him anything was never underestimate the power of family whether it's to help you through grief or help cause you grief, the bonds connecting people are always powerful.
So he accepted the invitation and his place with his unconventional family. Together, he walked with his partner out of OSP, his thoughts flying to his colleague, friend, hoping that he found some solace tonight, perhaps with his family, his partner Kensi, so that he could face whatever the morning would inevitably bring him. Hoping that when he came back (not if) Callen could make things right between them again. Deeks deserved at least that (and a hell of a lot more.)
Henrietta Lange watched as her two unusually silent agents walked out of the building, heading back to Sam's for a well-deserved meal and some rest and relaxation. With a small sigh, she found her thoughts back with the agents that were missing today, Ms. Blye and Mr. Deeks, hoping that after the all they'd been through these past few days, they could find some peace tonight.
Picking up her phone, she realized she could not wait any longer to know the fate of her liaison and dialled the familiar number. After two rings, a tired voice answered:
"Bates."
"Lieutenant Bates—"
"If you've called to talk me into reinstating Deeks, you're too late, he's left," Bates interrupted her, sounding jaded.
The ominous confirmation of her worst conclusion rose in her stomach. It appeared she had won the bet with herself after all. Mr. Deeks had indeed tendered his resignation to the LAPD...
"On the contrary Lieutenant," she responded, pushing down her feelings towards this new information, instead changing her tact altogether, "I'm calling to see if you will talk me out of something..."
The blond man didn't bother to stifle his yawn as he nursed his beer sitting at the bar in O'Brian's Pub. It had been one of the longest days in the history of long days and had he not been contacted by Woodruffe and asked to meet him here, he was sure that he'd be at home right now, trying and failing to sleep.
"You look like hell," a gruff voice came from his left as a stool was pulled up beside him.
"And you look like Magnum P.I." he smirked as Jimmy heaved a hearty laugh.
"Believe it or not boy, that's not the first time I've heard that..."
"I bet," he agreed, sliding a beer in front of the elder man.
"Finally drinkin' time," he mused before taking a small sip and glancing at his companion.
"How's Andi doin'?" he asked, his voice tinged with concern.
Jimmy caught his eye, "she's fine Marty, got her leg checked out by a doctor, it was a clean cut, not too deep, shouldn't get infected so—"
"I know you're the one that called her," he interrupted, his voice morphing from concern to firmness.
The ex-sergeant looked incredibly uncomfortable as he shifted in the chair.
"I know, I shouldn't have...if anything ever happened to her I never would have forgiven myself, the fact that crazy bastard stabbed her in the leg was enough to give me a heart-attack," he frowned, clearly feeling guilty.
"Yeah well, like you said, she's fine, no point beating yourself up over something that didn't happen..." he trailed off, clapping him on the shoulder, "so, what were you saying before Rose's call interrupted us, anyway?" he asked, knowing that Woodruffe expected him to forget all about that.
His tense shoulders gave him away, a small sigh escaping his lips as he appeared to not bother to try and feign ignorance or change the subject.
"You said that you tried your best to look out for me, what did you mean?" Deeks nudged him gently.
With a quick sidewards glance, the elder man cleared his throat and shifted on the stool.
"They're just the words of a foolish old man Marty; I wouldn't dwell too much on it..."
"But...?"
Another small sigh escaped from him, his eyes now trained on the small TV behind the bar.
"When you were a kid," he began, still not looking at Deeks, "I spent a lot of time patrolling your neighbourhood, you remember that right?" he asked and at his companion's nod he continued, "well, during that time, I was called out a lot...for noise complaints, drunk and disorderly reports and most of the time—"
"They came from my house," Deeks finished, a knot tightening in his stomach.
"Yeah..." Jimmy confirmed with a tap to his chin, "and over that time, I got to know your father well, figured out what kinda man he was...and didn't like what I saw. So after a while, I found myself finding reasons to stop in and checking up on you and your mom and over time, I came to care deeply for you both..."
Deeks' eyes widened slightly as the other man confessed this, a sense of anticipation settling into his chest.
"Your mom was a fascinating woman and we had the most interesting conversations...I couldn't help but grow attached to her and she for me, I think. Don't get me wrong Marty, nothing ever happened between us," he held up his hands, his voice firm, "she was still a married woman. But sometimes, I won't lie; I entertained the idea of taking her and you away from all the hurt, all the pain that Brandel exposed you too. And it was that desire, that overstepping that—"
He broke off suddenly, a flash of pain marring his face. Alarmed by this, Deeks rested his hand on Woodruffe's shoulder, silently urging him to continue.
"Your father started asking questions...got suspicious," he began, swallowing deeply, his heart hammering in his chest, "and I guess after one too many times seeing me talking to your mom out on the street, one too many times seeing the extra coffee cup on the sink...he snapped..." Jimmy trailed off, his voice growing quiet his head hanging lowly.
Deeks waited, sensing the build-up in the ex-sergeant, just knowing that he was psyching himself up for the final piece of his story, so he remained silent, hand squeezing his shoulder in quiet support.
"It was only when I got the call that night...a report of shots fired in your neighbourhood that I realized just how much danger my actions, however well intended, were putting you both in. But never, I swear Marty; I never thought when I got there that I would be faced with the scene that met me. I was convinced that he had finally lost it and shot you both...I saw the bruises on your mom's arm, the scratches on your shoulders, the black eyes, the broken wrists, I knew what was happening but I was powerless to stop it, to get tangible proof that it was him, until I arrived on scene," he sighed, his head finally raising to meet Deeks' eyes, "and I saw a terrified, wide-eyed, eleven-year-old boy, gun still in shaking hands, aimed right at that monster. It was only then that I knew Gordon John Brandel would be sent away..."
Silence followed as they stared at one another, Woodruffe's words sinking into the depths of Deeks' mind, flashes of that old, buried memory still as fresh as the day it occurred.
"You were there," he stated rather than questioned, "that night...a lot of it is still a blur but—I knew someone, someone strong and kind, wrapped me a blanket and led me to the ambulance where my mom was waiting...I remember feeling so...safe, for the first time ever, in the arms of an adult other than my mom. It was quiet, or maybe it wasn't, maybe I couldn't hear the sirens over the pounding of my heart-beat in my ears, but it was still, I know that. There was no more shouting and I really couldn't ask for more than that," he finished, squeezing his companion's shoulder.
"You made my mom laugh and that was more than my father could ever hope to achieve. Thank you for that. It's because of you that I dreamed of being a cop; the first seed was planted when I first saw you tell her a joke...her face lit up, her eyes shining brighter than I'd ever seen. That was when I decided that when I grew up, I'd be a cop and keep people safe, but also make them laugh...and that's all down to you," he murmured, just as he saw Kensi enter the bar, her arm being caught by Eddie who asked her something.
Woodruffe stared at him, his silent thanks being expressed in his face, in the warmth of his eyes and the clap on the shoulder. There was another beat of silence before Deeks' gaze wavered from his and was again drawn to his partner. Woodruffe picked up on his divided attention and followed his eye-line, a knowing smile on his face.
"You know, when I was your age, I never believed in true love..."
The blond's eyes snapped back to him for a moment, a confused look on his face.
"Oh yeah? What changed your mind?"
Woodruffe's smile grew larger, if not a little sad.
"I met the right woman..."
Deeks nodded for a moment, about to ask the question they both knew the answer to but the elder man cut across him.
"What about you? Do you believe in true love?"
Immediately, the ex-liaison's eyes were again drawn to his partner, who was now throwing her head back and laughing heartily at whatever Eddie had send to her.
"I didn't..."
"Oh yeah, what changed your mind?" Woodruffe turned the question on him.
A small smile broke out on Deeks' face as he heard (even from across the bar) his partner's snort of laughter before her signature rolling of her eyes.
"Ah...I see," Jimmy smirked knowingly, "it was your girl over there."
"What?" he gaped, his eyes immediately darting over to see if his partner heard Woodruffe's comment before replying in a hushed but firm tone, "Kensi's not my girl."
"And with that attitude she never will be."
There really was only one answer to that doozy.
"We're partners...it's against the rules," he replied, wondering not the first time, just on how many occasions he had to fall back on that particular excuse.
"Rules were made to be broken," Jimmy waved, taking a large gulp of his beer.
"Says the decorated ex-cop."
"The decorated ex-cop with no wife and kids. Trust me son, you don't wanna be married to the job. It's no way to live..."
Again, the settled into a short silence. Neither party knowing quite what to say to that.
"Take it from the man who thought he had all the time in the world...get your girl before it's too late. Happiness comes first. Leave the job if need be," he poked him gently in the arm.
"You tellin' me to quit being a cop?" Deeks asked, discomfort settling in his stomach as the taunting little voice sang too late!
"I'm tellin' you nothin' boy. I'm advising you make a choice, your career or your happiness. If it's career then you can forget we ever had this conversation, chalk it up to a drunk old man being nosy. But if it's happiness, well, you could always transfer to another precinct or... if you love both too much then sweet-talk your boss 'cause that girl ain't gonna hang around forever, partner or no partner," he let that statement hang before he gulped down the last of his beer and stood up, clapping him again on the shoulder, offering him a small grin.
"Don't lose my number Marty; I could use a friend who knows all the new places in this town now that I've moved back. In the meantime, think about what I said..." he finished before giving a little wave and making his way over to Kensi, shaking her hand and walking out into the night.
Deeks watched as he left, ordering another beer as his partner nodded to Eddie and made her way over to him, sitting down on the stool Woodruffe just vacated.
"Hey," she said quietly, picked up the beer that he slid toward her and taking a long sip.
"Hey," he replied just as lowly, his sixth sense kicking in, knowing that his partner was going to confront him about something.
"So, Eric and Nell found some interesting facts about Alf Jenkins in and around the time of Fay's murder," she surprised him by taking the indirect route of conversation.
"Oh really, what's that?"
"They dug into his financials and found that he bought a new car one week after she disappeared. Tracking the car lot they found that he traded in his old car when it was practically brand new...hinky huh?"
"Very hinky, Velma," Deeks agreed, knowing where she was going with this.
"So, that begs the question, what was wrong with his original car?" she continued, taking another sip out of the bottle.
"Maybe it was used to transport a dead body and he wanted to get as far away from it as possible?" he hypothesized with an air of sarcasm.
"See, my only problem now is," Kensi spun around on the stool, her polychrome orbs penetrating his with a sharp gleam, "I'm not sure who to report this to now...considering you're no longer a cop," she murmured, trying and failing nonchalance.
And there it was. His suspicions confirmed.
"You heard about that huh?" he asked, breaking eye-contact, wanting desperately to delay the inevitable.
"When are you coming back, Deeks?" the agent asked, apparently not even considering the idea that he was done for good.
Marty found that it would be cruel to extinguish that little sliver of hope in her, but at the same time, not making any promises he couldn't keep. So, he gave a half-truth:
"I—I don't know. Just...no getting shot or blown up or kidnapped okay?" he tried to inject some humor into the quickly rising tension.
"Is this real? Or is it another cop out?" she asked, her eyes narrowing slightly, no doubt recalling the incident over a year before and not wanting to fall for it again.
"Nice pun," he couldn't help but retort.
"Glad you find this so amusing," she muttered, her jaw tightening.
"Look, Kens," he sighed, turning to her, his body radiating defeat, "I...I can't be a cop right now, just like I couldn't be a lawyer back then..." he trailed off, not liking the dejected tone and trying to lighten it by finishing with, "what can I say? I go through phases."
"Being a cop isn't a phase Deeks...it's who you are," she responded instantly, her voice so strong with conviction.
"Is it?" he asked honestly, "I'm not so sure anymore."
Kensi gaped at him, clearly not believing her ears.
"But Deeks—"
"I'm serious Kens...if being a cop now, especially in the LAPD means that I gotta be like Kinney or Harris or Jenkins then I want nothing to do with the career. So yeah, I quit and no, I don't know if I'll go back...all I can tell you is that for now, I'm done. So please, I'd really appreciate it if I can drown my sorrows alone..." he trailed off, his heart panging painfully in his chest as he made his split decision.
Woodruffe may have inspired him to be a cop when he was a kid. But he wasn't a kid anymore; he wasn't blinded by idealistic dreams and unrealistic notions. Everything that had gone down over this case had seriously disillusioned him about his career choices and while his quitting may have been sudden, it wasn't completely unfounded. So, yes, Woodruffe may have been right. About everything. About life and about love too. But that didn't mean he was going to drag down his partner with him (cop or no), not now. Not when he was still in this frame of mind. She deserved better. So he did the only thing he could...push her away.
He could feel her surveying him, could practically hear the gears turning in her brain as she fought to find a response. Her eyes narrowed, drinking in his tense shoulders, his defensive stance and knew a losing battle when she saw one. Fine. This round may go to him. But the next would be hers.
"Fine, do your wallowing Deeks, but just know, this isn't over..." she stood up, staring down at him before her face softened, "you know where I am..." she let the rest of the sentence hang in the silence before turning on her heel and exiting the bar, without her usual confident flare.
The ex-cop didn't have it in him to watch her go. Instead he ordered another beer and spent the next half-hour mindlessly staring at a football game. It was when he raised his hand to order his seventh beer in a row that his quiet wallowing was disrupted.
"You wanna watch that drink kid, too many and you'll find yourself out on the street in your underwear thinking you're Superman..." a very familiar voice sounded from behind him.
Eyebrows flying skyward, heart jumping into his throat, Deeks spun around on the stool, his bright blue eyes meeting a pair of identical ones, his mouth falling open to let out a gasp:
"Mom?"
A/N: I want to take this time to sincerely apologize for the delay in updating. I'm so sorry guys, truly I am. Real Life got in the way unfortunately :( With prep for another year in college (thesis in my sights ahh!) and a multitude of other things (a person near and dear to me going abroad and other family obligations) things are just a little crazy at the moment. But because I love you guys, I will update as fast as I can even when I'm back in college :D I'll aim for at least monthly if I can manage it. Hope you understand :)
Thanks again for the continued support! You're all amazing!
Oh and just to let you guys know, this 'Deeks, M' series was probably the largest in the entire story. Don't worry; the chapters won't be too GIANT after this. This was just a once off in the massive-word-count department. Any chapters will be long, but not massively huge...and on that fantastic double-entendre, I'll bid thee adieu! ;)
NEXT CHAPTER TEASER:
"Did you seriously just steal the hippy guy's song from that TV show and change it to Kensi?" his partner asked, eyebrows raised, arms folded.
"Uh—"
"You did! That's Annie's song. You showed me that episode, idiot," she interrupted with a poke to his shoulder.
"Ha yeah okay, you caught me...it's not my song," he admitted, rubbing his sore arm, "but I sing it better though, right?
Silence filled the apartment.
"Kens?"
Please Review :D
~Cortexikid x