A/N: The support on this story has been absolutely mind blowing (MP too)! I appreciate it immensely. I know that I said it would take more time between writing these chapters, but we really couldn't let Deeks stay burried beneath a house for too long, right? Anyways, this chapter is a bit lackluster in action, but I hope that you'll be able to enjoy it nonetheless.
Lying between the cold rubble, his senses slowly started to return to him once more, albeit more foggily than what he was used to. His mind was still a blur, no doubt thanks to the throbbing headache he currently had. Great, at the very least he was guaranteed a concussion, he reasoned, eyes still closed shut in a feeble attempt to control the pain.
After a few moments of shortened breaths, he was able to focus further down his body, he knew both from his training as well as from previous experiences, that it could be of upmost importance to establish which injuries he currently had. The first step would at least have to be to open his eyes, as such he attempted to lift heavy eyelids, slowly opening his eyes as his vision slowly adjusted to the lack of light as well as the dust currently around him.
He was able to move his head, much to the dismay of the pounding in his head. First left, slowly rotating his neck until he felt a tightening stretch, repeating the process to the right, and finished off by successfully attempting to nod up and down. As he nodded downwards he felt some trickling from his forehead, most likely stemming from a cut or gash, nothing to do about that now. When he was satisfied that he had full mobility of his neck he allowed himself a breath of relief.
Moving on with the self-assessment, he moved his right arm, although not a lot of space to move around in, he did find that he had full mobility of his shoulder, elbow, wrist, and fingers. Continuing with the left arm he attempted to roll his shoulder like he had the other one, immediately regretting that decision as pain shot out from the problematic area, and travelled discomforting all the way down his spine, causing him to groan loudly. Best-case scenario a dislocated shoulder, he thought to himself as he attempted to stabilize his breathing. Under other circumstances, he instantly would have known that it was definitely a more comprehensive injury than a simple dislocation, but his splitting headache was clouding his rationale.
In his blunderous state, he continued to assess his left arm as he had his right, attempting to bend his elbow, causing pain to erupt once more, causing him to cuss as loud as possible, as the profanities was mainly absorbed by the thick air. Add a broken arm to the list of injuries as well, he thought.
After his breathing had somewhat normalized after his mistake, he let his right hand drift carefully over his torso, where he felt a few localized spots where his shirt was soaked. He tried looking at his hand, but was unable to identify the crimson liquid visually because of the lack of light, although unable to visually confirm it, his logic correctly dictated it to be his own blood. He continued searching for injuries using his hand, and was pretty sure that his ribs had taken a pounding if the soreness was anything to go by. Seeing as the only other injuries he could have on his torso would be internal, he stopped assessing his upper body, not wanting to waste any precious time.
Although the dust and particles that had previously clouded the surrounding air was starting to settle, his vision was getting increasingly hazy, and he knew that darkness was trying to envelop him, wanting to pull him into a deep slumber of unconsciousness. Instead of welcoming the alluring numbness that unconsciousness would no doubt bring, he forced himself to focus on finishing his self-assessment.
He attempted to move both his legs, but found that he was unable to do so. He pushed himself up, as much as he could in the tight space, even though he made sure only to use his right arm, the pain erupting from his midsection was almost unbearable, forcing yet another weak grunt from him. He was incapable of seeing anything past his midsection, what seemed to be a rather large wooden crossbeam lying on top of him. He lowered his upper half back down to rest, knowing that any attempt at moving the large piece lumber alone and in his state would be futile. Instead he tried listening to his body for any distinct pain coming from his lower body, he deemed that task impossible as his whole body was now screaming in pain, and as he was unable to feel anything specifically from his legs he let out a shaky breath.
Just as he was ready to finally allow the darkness to take him away from his rubbly tomb, he heard some white noise coming from his right ear. At first he dismissed it as being another side effect of the concussion he was certain he suffered, but the white noise slowly turned clearer and started sounding distinctly like… Kensi?
He tried to focus on the blur of sound, still unable to decipher what she is saying. Realization hit, that he was hearing her through his earwig, which was still somehow lodged in his ear. Praise technology he thought, as he reached for it with his right hand. By some means his uncoordinated fidgeting with the device worked as the incomprehensible sound slowly turned clearer until he heard her voice, "Deeks? Can you hear me?"
The relief he felt upon hearing her voice was immeasurable, even though panic was seeping through her words, the calming effect of hearing the voice of the woman he cared the most about was incredible.
...
After leaving the embrace of Sam, she found herself unable to look anywhere but the place where the house had stood not even three minutes ago, now only a pile of rubble were in its place.
Emotions were wreaking havoc in her mind, unable to settle on a single feeling. Helplessness, numbness, fear, and despair were at the forefront as she continued staring at the place she knew she could not go to, yet the only place she wanted to be.
A noise pulled her out of her melancholia, shaking her head to fully focus once more. She tried identifying the strange sound, unable to do so as she heard what she would later realize to have been mumbled profanities.
She closed her eyes, allowing herself to better focus. Now hypersensitive to the sounds she was hearing, she definitely heard another groan… Deeks! She had not even considered that his communication device might have survived the blast, she had been too disoriented right after the blast and then blinded by despair. Upon hearing his voice she was filled with new clarity and hope, if she could hear him coughing, it meant that he was alive. Thank God and every other deity he was alive.
Immediately she started calling out for him through her own earwig. The desperation she had previously felt was creeping back in, pushing away her newfound positivity as her pleads for him to respond was going unanswered.
After what felt like an eternity her determination was finally rewarded, when she heard his strained and hoarse voice making it barely audible, "Kens?"
"I'm here Marty, I'm here." She consciously used his first name. She had previously made a point to always use 'Marty' when they were off work, and although they were technically at work, she reasoned that the emotions that name carried would probably reach him better. Although she tried staying strong for him, her voice cracked halfway through her reassurance giving away her own worry.
"S'ok," he responded sounding incredibly dozy.
She knew he was losing his battle to consciousness and without knowing any of his injuries, she was unable to figure out the reasoning behind it. It could be one of numerous things, a concussion, blood loss, or even internal bleeding, each option worse than the previous one. She needed to know, try to keep him talking until the rescue she could her approaching would be able to get him out.
"Help's on the way." She reassured him before asking, "Do you know how bad you're injured?" She was internally begging that he had not already lost his battle and succumbed to oblivion yet.
There was a long break from when she had asked until he finally responded, his words even more slurred than previously. "Not sure… how bad my legs." He started fumbling in his sentence and continued only in a simpler fashion, "Torso hurt… Arm bad… Head hurt."
"It's okay, you'll be okay," she reassured him, knowing that it might be a very hollow promise.
"Kens?" He asked, even quieter than before.
"I'm still here," she consoled after pushing past the lump that had formed in her throat.
"I think 'm gonna," he cut off his own sentence.
"You're going to what?" She asked, feeling increasingly nervous at his lack of coherence.
A silence that felt like an eternity for Kensi followed, as she received no answer.
"You're going to what?" She repeated more forcefully, tears stinging in her eyes as she feared that he was unable to hear her.
"Gonna sleep," he whispered hoarsely, only audible because of the female agent's adrenaline driven, hypersensitive hearing.
That was the last she heard from him, just before the emergency services arrived. No more than five minutes had passed from when the building first collapsed.
She tried calling out for him continuously, before finally accepting that he had lost his battle to unconsciousness. Kensi turned around, bewildered at no longer being in contact with the man she lo-, in contact with the man she cared greatly about. She was having a hard time controlling her emotions, feeling sick to her stomach, and was blinking rapidly to keep any tears at bay.
Her mind was racing with all sorts of worst-case scenarios once again, had he bled out or succumbed to internal injuries or… she stopped her train of thought, recollecting what Deeks had told her when she had inquired about his injuries. Head hurt, well of course his head would hurt, but a nasty headache could well be a sign of a concussion, that had to be it she reasoned, all other possibilities were so much worse and therefore unacceptable and unthinkable.
Shaking her head to reel her back in, she decided that a distraction was needed before her mind started running rampant again. She looked for her coworkers, hopeful that they would have any information to keep her mind occupied for at least a little while, whilst her partner was still buried beneath the rubble.
Callen was busy speaking with someone on the phone, probably bringing the unfortunate news to Hetty, she thought.
Sam was talking to what looked to be the bomb squad, whom were already geared up to begin the clearing the area of any possible explosives that had not yet detonated, Granger having made sure that they were on standby. She was thankful that their assistant director had actually done something she deemed useful instead of merely scrutinizing their team for once.
She started walking the short distance towards the ex-Navy SEAL, not having realized that she had unconsciously moved closer towards where her partner was buried when she was calling out for him. She reached Sam just as he parted ways with the bomb squad personnel.
"They're going to quickly sweep the area before fire and rescue can start trying to get to him," he quickly briefed his struggling friend, having noticed that she was emotional to the point of being unrecognizable to him. Kensi Blye did not do feeling, especially not with her coworkers. Sam decided to put that away for now, hopefully able to return to it later upon his teammates' full recovery.
She just nodded in response to his short briefing, unable to push past the lump that had formed in her throat.
Standing next to Sam, she watched the trained professionals sweep the area for any further explosive dangers. She felt rooted in place, as she was incapable of looking anywhere but where the man she cared the most about was buried, the knowledge that she was unable to do anything to help was excruciating.
A loud siren coming to a halt signaled the arrival of an ambulance, realizing that the information she had received through her earwig moments ago might be of importance to them, she slowly made her way to the EMTs standing by behind the red and white vehicle.
She told them about the injuries the man in question had told her about, his head, torso, and arm, which he had stated was either 'hurt' or 'bad'. She also informed them about the shallowness of his breaths that she had picked up on, as well as the hoarse and low voice in which he had spoken before drifting off. The emergency medical technicians assured her, that the information was very useful and the two started readying oxygen alongside other equipment that might be needed once they had found their patient between the rubble.
After exhausting her distraction, Kensi was once again left to wait for fire and rescue, whom was just now starting to get access to the site.
Time dragged on as each minute passing felt like an hour, and she was starting to feel increasingly worried once more. She could not tell if they had made any progress at all, until a large piece of lumber was moved and a mop of dusty, unruly hair grabbed her attention, and everything suddenly seemed to move at warp speed.
A stretcher was quickly brought in among the rubble the people were working on, as the EMTs and rescue workers gathered around the injured body, moving away any debris on top of him as well as clearing a path to safely move the injured man.
Soon after they were hastily carrying the unconscious form of Marty Deeks towards the waiting ambulance, he was donning a neck brace and was strapped securely to the spine board supporting his weight.
Quickly removing her vest and automatic weapon before handing it over to Sam, Kensi was by Deeks' side the moment he arrived at the ambulance. She jumped into the back of the vehicle without anyone questioning her, knowing to make sure to keep out of the way of the EMTs as they were working efficiently and diligently on him.
Only after he was hooked up to the mobile data terminal and the ambulance was finally moving did she allow herself the small comfort of touching the pale form of the man whom she cared the most about, making sure not to touch his clearly swollen and broken arm nearest her or get in the way of the EMT, she settled for a hand softly placed on this thigh.
Time once again crept along as her gaze carefully studied Deeks' body, mentally cataloging every minor and major injury she could see. He was enveloped in a layer of dust, and the paleness of him stood out in stark contrast to his usual sun kissed skin. Hopefully his lack of color was an attribute of a concussion and not blood loss, although most likely a combination of both, she though, having noted the large gash on his shoulder as well as how crimson red color stained his now tattered shirt and jeans. She prayed that it was only superficial injuries, although she knew to expect differently.
...
Upon arriving at the hospital, Deeks was quickly wheeled through the automatic doors and into the building. Kensi was following hot on their heels, but was refused further access when they turned down the corridor leading to the operating theater.
She was now standing alone, staring through the automatics doors that had unceremoniously closed in front of her, effectively cutting her off from any contact or information about her man.
She blinked rapidly to keep the tears at bay, a few slipping down her cheeks as she started failing the battle with her emotions. Alongside the tears, she also started feeling droplets of sweat forming on her forehead, her hands starting to feel clammy as she continuously caressed her forearms in a feeble attempt to calm her nerves. Grinding her teeth in anxious worry, she started impatiently pacing in front of the doors that had closed only moments ago.
A brave nurse approached the obviously perturbed woman and introduced herself as nurse Natalie. Kensi allowed herself a sad smile at the alliteration, Marty would have enjoyed that tidbit she thought, before tuning back into what the blonde nurse was saying. She suggested that Kensi might be more comfortable in the designated waiting room, only succeeding in leading the distraught brunette to the room after having assured her, that she knew what patient she was with, and promised that she would come find her as soon as she had any information.
In the waiting room, Kensi again found herself pacing, walking aimlessly from one end of the smallish room to the other, only to turn back around and continue the nervous charade.
Vibrations stemming from her pocket stopped her aimless pacing as she pulled out her phone. She cleared her throat before accepting the call, her operations manager did not need to know how distraught she really was, although knowing Hetty, she probably would have already figured out the change in status between her two agents.
"How are you doing, Ms. Blye?" The elder woman asked sympathetically.
"I'll be okay as soon as he is," Kensi answered honestly.
"I know, dear." Hetty responded kindly, confirming that she did indeed know about them. She then started getting to business, "You will stay at the hospital and update the team once you know anything. I have been in contact with the director of emergency services at the hospital and have been assured they have their chief surgeon and best staff working on our Mr. Deeks. Once he wakes up he will be given a private room."
"Thank you, Hetty." She had known that it had been a possibility, that she would not be allowed to stay given the time sensitive terrorist threat currently looming, as such hearing her operations manager give her the permission to stay close to the man she cared deeply about came as a huge relief. Also the fact that the tiny woman seemed certain that he would wake up somehow calmed Kensi, Hetty was very rarely wrong after all.
"Mr. Callen and Mr. Hanna will continue to work alongside the FBI to get to the bottom of this. The tactical team our cousins in the bureau sent out apprehended a man, whom we believe to be one of the three remaining from the list Mr. Beale procured. An exact ID is still being waiting to be confirmed, but they believe him to be Abdul-Shahid Tahan a former high-ranking member of Al-Qaeda."
The short briefing came with mixed feelings, yes it was great that NCIS and her teammates would continue to work the case, but she would not be there to back them up, not that her being there had helped out Marty, she sighed deeply at the depressing thought.
The fact that they had captured the man who was possibly one of the masterminds behind the two attacks was obviously positive, although she knew from experience how difficult it could be to make radical terrorists talk. Hopefully they would be able to break Tahan and prevent any other planned attacks.
"Who will be questioning Tahan?" She asked, knowing that Sam might be the best shot they had, given he had visited most Arabic speaking counties, that combined with his language capabilities and his thorough knowledge of Muslim culture made him the best chance they had to get the former Al-Qaeda member to talk.
"Upon my request, Mr. Tahan will be transported to the boatshed, where Mr. Callen and Mr. Hanna will be leading the interrogation." Hetty assured her, confirming that she, too, had thought about it.
"Alright, that's good… are you sure you don't need me for anything?" She was getting nervous, knowing what could be at stake. Even though she would prefer to stay at the hospital for obvious reasons, she knew that her skills might be needed in the field.
"I assure you, Ms. Blye, that you are exactly where you need to be." Hetty affirmed, trying to calm her agent. "I need to make another phone call, I expect you to call me the minute anything develops with Mr. Deeks."
"I will, thanks Hetty."
...
Kensi was getting increasingly restless, although she had finally settled into one of the uncomfortable white plastic chairs, her knee was still bouncing, giving away the stress she was currently feeling.
If nurse Natalie did not soon get her rear in gear, she would find her and force her to work double time, she thought as her patience had finally dwindled towards nothingness. A few minutes later she was unable to stay sitting in the chair and stood up to start pacing around once more. Just as Kensi rose from her seat, the door opened and the woman in question stood in front of her.
"Family of Mr. Deeks," she called out into the room, making sure that she was following hospital protocol. She made sure to have eye contact with Kensi, silently telling her that she kept her promise.
Kensi walked up to the nurse and took a deep breath, readying herself for the update on the man she held dearest.