Brotherhood

Chapter 21

...

It was hot and he was antsy. The sweltering heat clung to him like a second skin, one he longed to shed, to be free of it, as he wanted to be free of this place and these men. His anger had been at a simmering boil ever since he'd heard Guidry had called him son. Where the fuck did that come from? And yet he had to play the part. He had to be the type of person who would relish the attention of a man like Guidry. He was Jimmy Hale, an ignorant, arrogant and violent young man who reacted without thinking. He enjoyed chaos, believed in anarchy, and the only one able to control him somewhat was his brother. He'd had no father in his life; no stability and now a man he supposedly admired had called him son. Had it been a slip of the tongue? Would a man like Guidry let his guard down and welcome someone like Jimmy into his life? Why? Did he also have a deep-seated need for family? It was confusing and incredibly disturbing and he wasn't sure he could go that deep into his alias. He sure as hell didn't want to. To become close with such a violent man was all too familiar and he shuddered as it played with his mind.

Callen, a man who rarely slept through the night, was now snoring loudly, lying facedown with both arms tucked tightly to his chest, his body as compact and unyielding as when he was awake. Callen had suffered just as he had at the hands of Saint and his buddies and needed the rest to recover, but Deeks wanted nothing more than to wake him. He desperately needed to talk, or he wasn't sure what he would do. The feeling that he was about to explode was building and he moved silently toward the open doorway.

The sound of voices made him step back inside, wary of another attack. When he heard them laugh, he relaxed a little until he saw them. Two men staggered side by side down toward the winding bayou, passing a fifth of whiskey between one another. The wiry one had on the same khaki tank top he'd worn on the platform last night. He'd made jokes about his hair while banging his head into the post he was tied to, over and over until he'd blacked out. Deeks remembered his giggle. The hefty one had smelled bad, his hands heavily callused and strong, breathing through his mouth as he'd choked him and whispered questions about his manhood.

He felt like Jimmy Hale and didn't bother to pull himself back as raw rage clouded his thoughts, and whatever self-control he'd had quickly disappeared. His skin was prickly in the smothering heat of the night as he reached for the gun lying on the rickety table against the wall. He knew he shouldn't kill them, but a fervent need to retaliate urged him on and he slipped unnoticed out into the dark. He found it hard to breathe as he followed them, swallowing obsessively as he tried to control his rage. It came to him that whatever he did, Guidry would be proud of him, and that stunning thought gave him pause and he reached out to steady himself against a tree. He and Callen had talked about this. The Hale brothers would be expected to retaliate. It was part of their cover. They were mean, violent men, no different than the militiamen who surrounded them, but the thought of Guidry praising him, made him want to puke. Dark memories surfaced and he fought against them, but they only stoked his anger and he started after the men once again.

He smelled him just before a rock solid forearm wrapped around his throat. He reacted instantly, slipping free and turning to slash the barrel of his gun across the side of the man's head. He went down hard, but before Deeks could do anything else the wiry man tackled him to the ground. Deeks roared out his anger and lost all control, fighting as he had as a kid on the streets of LA. He held nothing back, kicking and gouging until the man scrambled away, cussing him out loudly before limping away and disappearing into the darkness. He'd lost track of the hefty man and was hit from behind, staggering as the man slammed him into the trunk of a large tree. The air left his lungs and bright spots flickered behind his eyes. The man yanked him around to face him and he tried to prepare himself for the punch, but it never came.

"Don't...or I'll shoot you where you stand," Callen's voice was deep and cold as he shoved the barrel of his weapon into the base of the big man's skull. "You had your fun last night, asshole. You come anywhere near my brother or me after this and you're dead."

"Guidry'll have your ass if ya do that," the man said shakily.

"I'm only gonna warn you once," Callen replied. "Tattle to Guidry all you want, you chickenshit, but you ain't gettin' away with what you done."

The man's nostrils flared with indignation and a hint of fear as he stumbled and tried to get away. Jimmy took advantage, hitting him as hard as he could, breaking his nose, and Jake slammed the butt of his gun down on the back of his head, sending him senseless to the ground. The two brothers stood silently over the man as the crickets resumed their nightly song.

"We need to talk, Jimmy," Callen finally said as he reached for him.

Jimmy Hale wanted none of it and slapped his hand away, heading away from the cabin and down toward the bank of the slow moving bayou. He heard Callen follow, and he knew they were going to get into it, but he held no regret for his actions. He stopped at the edge of the black water, numbly staring at the slimy patches of algae floating like glowing green clouds on the surface. The hollow sound of bullfrogs and intermittent calls from some unknown bird filled him with homesickness and he felt his alias fade a little.

"Don't do that, brother," Callen said softly. "Don't make me tell Sam you went off on your own. You know how he gets."

"Grammy Sammy, the pissed off Navy SEAL," Deeks whispered. "Glad Roy let us know he's okay."

Callen's hand felt cool on the back of his neck and he let out a long breath, slowly coming back to himself as they stood side by side. He'd expected Callen to castigate him, but somehow he knew that wasn't what he needed right now, and he was grateful that he understood.

"Guidry's not your father, kid," Callen said softly. "But you might have to pretend he is."

"The scary part is...he's damn close," he choked out "Maybe it was just a slip of the tongue."

"Or maybe he's just drawn to your charming personality," Callen snarked.

"Yeah, right," whispering with a hint of a smile.

"You saved his life," Callen said. "I think that surprised him. He leads by fear, but what you did was an unselfish act. You didn't do it out of fear. He might believe you did it because you care about him, and that is probably something he hasn't experienced in a long time."

"Hard to believe someone like that is even capable of those kinds of feelings," Deeks replied.

"He must have been human once."

"Not sure about that," Deeks said, cocking his head at the thought. "And I'm not sure I can act like a son to him, G."

"Jimmy can."

"That's what scares me," he said softly.

"You got a little lost in Jimmy tonight is all," Callen said gently.

"If I'm going to pretend to care about that bastard, I'll need to lose myself in Jimmy," he replied, feeling agitated again and slightly afraid. "And he's starting to remind me of Max Gentry, only with a lot less control."

"You're not alone here, brother," Callen reminded him. "I'll pull you back when I think you've gone too far down the rabbit hole. This is not gonna end up like your time with the Aryan Knights."

"If it does you'll have to deal with Kensi," Deeks shivered.

"And Sam."

"And the whole Atwood family," Deeks said with a cocky grin. "Especially Elan."

"I'm more afraid of George than Elan," Callen smirked.

Just saying their names helped him come back to himself, to shed his alias for a brief period, and he dropped his head as Callen ruffled his hair.

"You can do this Deeks," Callen said close to his ear, his arm draped across his shoulder.

Callen's confidence was comforting, and once again he was glad he wasn't here alone to deal with it all. His thoughts were fragmented now, jumping between memories of his real father to Jacob Meier of the Aryan Knights, who wanted him to follow in his footsteps, and Wilhelm Jürgen, the patricidal maniac who had almost taken his life, finally circling around to the one man who knew what real fatherly love was. George Atwood. He didn't deserve to be in the same conversation with any of those men. He was a good man, a truly good soul, and he wondered what he would say if he knew how close to evil he was once again.

"Come on kid, let's get back before some gator decides we look like a tasty midnight snack."

Deeks shivered dramatically, making Callen laugh and they headed back, on sure footing once again. The big militiaman lay where they'd left him, and Deeks wondered if violence was becoming too familiar to him, a solution too easily used. This time they'd had no choice, but it worried him nonetheless and his mind slid back to his childhood. His earliest memories were of his mother's screams and his own, his father's anger stark and terrifying, something not to be aroused. Even as a child he'd tried to use humor to deflect that anger, but it rarely worked. By the time he shot his father he'd progressed to physically fighting back, leaving him black and blue and angry. Now it was the loneliness he recalled from his early childhood, that feeling of isolation from the two people he should have been closest to. His father had been lost to him from the beginning, but it was the growing distance from his mother that had hurt the most. It was only after his father was gone that they rediscovered their love, so tentative at first, but eventually bringing them both joy and a new sense of what family life could be, even if it didn't last long.

Guidry reminded him of his father, but much more calculating and devious. His father had been a loner for the most part, and held iron control over his family. But as far as he knew, he never sought to control others with his violence, not that he didn't use it if someone ticked him off. Guidry was different. He had no family that they knew of, and got off on controlling everyone around him, with the grandiose dream of using violence as a way to acquire even more power over a government he had no respect for. Why the man was interested in him, he had no idea. He didn't seem like the kind of person who would want to share his deepest thoughts. He seemed inherently distrustful and the more he thought about it, the more it made no sense.

"Heads up," Callen murmured.

Four men were waiting for them as they reached the cabin, one being the wiry man Deeks had kicked the shit out of. They both pulled their guns, ready to defend themselves, but Guidry walked out of their cabin and said something harshly in Cajun and the men backed away.

"Skeeter tell me you jump 'im and Giff. Dat so?" Guidry asked.

"They jumped me first," Deeks said evenly. "Wasn't tied up this time, so me and Jake kicked their butts."

"Where's Giff?" Skeeter demanded.

"Sleepin'," Jake said, moving his gun to the front of his leg. "He's a little soft in the head."

"You sonofabitch..." Skeeter said and started toward them.

He stopped as both leveled their guns at him, the others raising theirs, but looking to Guidry for how to respond.

"Tell me how you want this to end, boss," Jake said. "He can let it be or I can shoot him. Don't like lookin' over my shoulder every day."

"We got serious business to be takin' care of," Guidry said. "So this here ends right now. Got dat, Skeeter? Jake? Jimmy?"

Skeeter looked pissed, but he nodded and waited until Jake and Jimmy lowered their weapons

"'Bout daybreak," Guidry said. "Y'all go on now, 'cept for Jimmy. You come on wid me, boy. We get us some grits and biscuits. Have us a little talk."

Deeks couldn't stop himself from looking over at Callen, who forced out a smile and slapped him on the back. He read the warning and concern, but he also saw the encouragement. They both knew he had no choice, so he secured his gun behind his back and nodded at Guidry, using a shy smile to cover his reluctance.

"Let me grab a tee shirt, boss," he said, quickly following Callen inside.

As he pulled on a dark green shirt, Callen sneaked him his earwig, blocking the doorway as he snugged it into his ear. He felt better now that someone would be listening, waiting there to talk him past his uncertainty if he faltered. When he looked up, Callen's intense gaze greeted him, and he was suddenly flooded with a warmth of feelings for the man. He grinned cockily at him and saw a slow smile spread across his face.

"See ya, brother," Deeks said softly as he brushed past.

"Save me a biscuit, dumbass," he replied, the familiar nickname reminding him why they were here.

There was a hint of pale light as he walked by Guidry's side down toward the camp. There were a few men stirring and most of those had gathered by the cookhouse where the smell of boudin hovered. A long wooden table held platters of the spicy sausage and heaping bowls of grits. Pans of hot biscuits made his stomach growl and Guidry laugh. He hid his distaste as best he could, allowing Jimmy Hale to crawl back out. He would do this for Joe and for the friend his brother had lost.

"Hey, Jimmy," Addy called out as she walked out of the cookhouse with two jars of honey.

"Hey darlin'," Jimmy replied with a cocky grin. "Don't you look pretty this mornin'."

"You surely are a charmer, boy," Guidry said as he plopped large spoonfuls of grits on his tin plate, then slathering it with butter.

Jimmy tore away a couple of biscuits and took a small scoop of grits, piling the boudin on top. He was hungry, but the grits made him slightly nauseous and he frowned, making Addy giggle.

"Want some honey on them biscuits?" She asked.

"Sure would, sweet thing," he replied. "And a cup of coffee if you don't mind."

"If you two is done dancin' round each other, we got stuff ta talk about," Guidry snapped. "Go on back ta work now, girl. This don't concern you."

Jimmy felt the sudden tension and saw Addy shudder at the rebuke, so he smiled at her. She looked grateful as she handed him a steaming cup of black coffee, but then turned abruptly and hurried back into the cookhouse.

"Women ain't nothin' but a distraction, boy," Guidry said as he headed for an isolated table under the canopy of a large tree. "Ain't good for much, 'cept cookin' and fuckin'."

Deeks flushed with the sudden need to argue with the man, to call him on his ignorance and then realized he would be treading on dangerous ground if he did. He reminded himself to ask, "What would Jimmy Hale do?"...and for some reason that made him laugh. Jimmy Hale is an ignorant little fuck being treated to a private breakfast with the head honcho, and would gobble up anything this crazy bastard had to say.

"Guess you're right, boss. She sure is a cute little bitch though," he finally said, cringing as a word he hated came out of his mouth.

"Cain't argue wid that," Guidry replied with a disturbing smile and began shoveling grits into his mouth.

"No sir."

They ate in silence, and Deeks struggled to settle into his alias, to judge this man as Jimmy might. He had no idea what he wanted to talk to him about, and hoped Callen was listening. He was nervous around the man, and realized he was trying to protect himself instead of welcoming the attention as his alias would. He was in a position to get valuable information, and all he had to do was pretend he was enjoying himself, and express his appreciation for being singled out. He recalled some of the ways he used to try and get close to his real father when he was little. He'd wanted his attention back then, before his response was a backhanded slap in the face. Early on he would fetch whatever his dad wanted, thrilled when he got a smile out of him. That's who he had to be now, a lonely little boy craving attention from the man with power over his life.

"Can I getcha a cup of coffee, boss?"

"Sure thing, mon fils," Guidry said, looking surprised, but pleased.

"How you take it, sir?"

"Little milk."

He moved quickly as if it was the most important job he had to do, and saw Guidry watching him as he hurried back, his eyes assessing him.

"Shoulda asked if you wanted another biscuit or two," Jimmy said as he placed the tin cup in front of him.

"What yore daddy like, boy?" Guidry asked softly.

"He's dead," he replied, wondering what story he should tell if he asked for more.

"When?"

"I was seven," Jimmy answered softly, staring down into his own lukewarm coffee.

"He killed or just passed?" Guidry's voice softened and Deeks tried to remember the intel he'd read about this man's childhood.

"Cops shot 'im," he said, sounding uncomfortable as he related his backstory.

"What he do?"

"Nothin' worth killin' a man over...the fuckers," he said angrily.

"Tell me, boy."

"Jake told me the bank was gonna take our house, so daddy tried to rob one to get the money to stop 'em. Failed like usual. Jake never thought he was very smart," he said, letting his raw anger show and the hurt of a small boy. "We didn't have nothin' after that. Bank took the house and we woulda lost the car if we hadn't run. Ended up in Idaho. Stayed in shelters till mama got sick."

"What happened to ya mama?" He asked, actually sounding interested.

"Took up with some guy that beat the shit outa her," he said without emotion. "When the bastard started in on me, Jake shot 'im and we ran again. She died in the back of the car somewhere in Montana."

"How old were ya, mon fils?"

"Eight. Jake was fourteen," he answered. "Don't know what we woulda done if we hadn't stumbled into the camp of a militia group. Good folks. Took us in...fed us..."

"Jake your only family?"

"Yeah...we got nobody else," he ventured, looking hopefully at the man.

"Ya do now, mon fils," Guidry said. "Dis is Da Brotherhood, boy. You part of it now."

"Appreciate it, sir," he replied shyly. "You got family around here?"

"All gone," he said, as he tore open a biscuit and began to butter it. "Lived wid a woman some time ago, but she weren't worth a damn. One day just up and left. Took my son wid her. If I ever do see that bitch I'll feed 'er to the gators a little bit at a time."

"That's real shitty, boss," Jimmy said, sounding heartfelt. "Had a friend that happened to. Finally found his son in New Mexico. Took 'im back home with him. So you never know. You might just find him someday."

Guidry stared at him for a long time, and Deeks wasn't sure what he saw in his eyes, but his face softened slightly as he slowly ate his biscuit.

"You good ta have around, mon fils," he finally said.

"Good to be here, boss," he said with a smile. "We're happy to do whatever you need us to."

"You 'member that there doctor dat stitch ya up?" He asked after awhile. "And dat sorry excuse for a man dat ya saved along side me?"

"Dr. Mouton and his son-in-law Elliot," he said eagerly.

"Gonna be meetin' wid dem and some other fellas today," Guidry revealed. "Want ya ta come on along. Watch my back."

"Okay," he replied. "Can Jake come too? He's got good sense about people. Not sure I trust that doctor or Elliot. Kinda flaky."

"You sure right 'bout dat," Guidry laughed. "Go git dat brother of yours and be down by de boats in an hour."

"Yes sir!" He replied enthusiastically, pleased they were being trusted and relieved to get away from the man even briefly.

"I'll be damn, kid," Roy laughed softly in his ear. "Hell of a story. You're in good now. We'll all be listenin'. Might be the break we need."

"Watch yourself, Cuz. You too, G."

Elan's voice was soft and full of concern, and his heart slowed its pounding as he listened to him tell about Joe's return to the ranch. That he was safe now, away from all this and out of Guidry's reach helped to ease some of the turmoil he was experiencing, but not all. He knew that until all of the people involved in this plot were behind bars, their plans exposed and thwarted, that none of them were safe. They couldn't let their guard down now. That had happened before, and the bleak winter landscape of that mistake flashed unwanted into his mind, chilling him in the rising heat.

"You did good, brother," Callen whispered on comms, cutting through the sudden flashbacks.

Unable to reply, he started walking faster, needing to see his face so he could still the voices in his head and stall the onrush of memories. He suddenly feared for Joe and for all of his family at the ranch. Questions roared through his mind. What if they hadn't been fooled by Joe's fake death? What if they had followed him to Wyoming? His mind was turbulent and his stomach rebelled at the small amount of food he'd eaten.

He tried to fight what was happening to him, the familiar onslaught of a panic attack making him unsteady and pissed. They had haunted him for months after his kidnapping and Jürgen's death, but he hadn't suffered one in a long time. He wanted to curse out loud, to find a way to forestall the debilitating effects that would leave him weak and unable to function. That couldn't happen. Not now. Not here.

"Jimmy?" Callen spoke the name before he realized he was beside him.

He wiped at the sweat stinging his eyes and saw the look of recognition on his brother's face, and he reached for him. Callen quickly gripped his arm, turning with him as they headed back up to the cabin. He could hear Roy and Elan in his ear, but it didn't calm him. It was all just white noise, adding to his now roaring panic. He jumped when Callen slammed the door behind them, closing them in together in the dim, confined space. He heard him tell the others to shut up, and that made him smile briefly.

"I'm right here, Deeks. You're not alone," he whispered, as he pushed him down on the bed. "You're safe. Talk to me."

"Jürgen," he managed to choke out. "He found me at the ranch..."

"Who the fuck is that?" Roy asked, but was quickly cut off by Elan, who snapped out what sounded like a rebuke in Arapaho.

"You're afraid for Joe," Callen said, sitting down beside him and gently placing a hand on his back.

"He's afraid for all of them," Elan said. "And now, so am I."

"Jürgen wasn't fooled...so, what if these bastards weren't either?" Deeks asked, trying desperately to still his twitching fingers.

"Hetty's plan was pretty damn convincin', kid," Roy said quietly.

"Who's watching out for them if she's wrong again?" He felt Callen stiffen as the accusation hit home.

"I don't know what knocked you sideways kid, but before this goes too far, let me talk to Hetty," Roy said reasonably. "We'll figure something out. Y'all are too close to figuring out who's behind all this to get rattled now. Can ya do that, son?"

"Don't call me that, you fuckin' dickwad," Deeks growled out angrily, close to losing complete control until Callen gripped down hard on his shoulder.

"Get her on comms, now," Callen ordered. "We need to settle this before we go to that meeting with Guidry."

Deeks saw the guilt on Callen's face and he was instantly sorry for bringing it all back. It had taken a long time to convince him that he didn't blame them for what Jürgen did to him at the ranch, and now it all came flooding back.

"I'm sorry, G," he said softly. "I shouldn't have said that. I don't blame you. You know that."

"It was my idea, not Hetty's," Callen said. "Jürgen almost killed you in that field and I'll never forgive myself for that."

"But I have, brother," Deeks said, finally feeling calm as he tried to assure him.

"I understand your concern, Mr. Deeks," Hetty said in his ear. "What can we do to ease your mind?"

"Find some way to protect them all," he demanded. "Elan told me Lily is there, but she's the only one with any training."

"I can't just send a tactical squad to surround the place. It will have to fit the scenario we created," Hetty reasoned.

"What if the Doucet family went on up there for Joe's supposed funeral?" Roy suggested. "They're chompin' at the bit to do somethin', and them being there wouldn't arouse suspicion."

"It makes sense," Hetty acknowledged.

"Would they go?" Callen asked.

"In a heartbeat," Elan assured them.

"All them boys is tough sonsofbitches and they'd do anything to protect Joe," Roy replied. "All we have to do is ask."

"That sound good to you, Mr. Deeks?" Hetty asked.

"How many of them are there?"

"Oscar's five brothers. A bunch of cousins I ain't never sorted out, and three ornery as shit uncles," Roy replied.

"Soldier will take to Uncle Louie," Elan laughed. "He's a horseman."

"You met them? Right, Elan?" Deeks asked. "Can they handle themselves?"

"They buried their youngest, Marty," he replied. "They're all still mad as hell. They'll be hoping someone tries something, and if anyone comes for Joe, they're gonna run into a firestorm."

"Good to know," he said, his heartbeat returning to normal as his mind began to clear.

Hetty signed off and Roy did the same as he was designated to recruit Gus Doucet and his family as bodyguards once again. Deeks ran a hand through his long hair, finally believing his family would be protected, but he felt as if he'd lost something with Callen. He'd reminded him of a terrible time and a painful mistake and his response worried him. He couldn't help but notice the reticence in his body language as he moved around the cabin. They needed to trust each other, and now was not the time to pull away.

"I shouldn't have panicked," he said tentatively.

"You were right," Callen breathed out.

"Are we good?" He asked nervously.

"Not sure. Are we?" Callen sounded disheartened and it hurt Deeks to hear that in his voice.

"You're my brother. Nothing will ever change that," he said earnestly. "I'm sure as hell not gonna let that sonofabitch Jürgen come between us. That's in the past. Leave it there, okay? We got enough to deal with without dragging his carcass around with us."

"He's right, Cuz," Elan said quietly. "He's nothing but dried bones scattered to the far winds. Let your memories follow."

"Didn't know you could be so poetic," Deeks replied with a wide smile.

"I'm Arapaho. We are a visionary people," he replied.

"In my neck of the woods, we call that glorified bullshit," Roy drawled out softly as Elan muttered something in his native tongue. "Doucets are in. Hetty will have nine of 'em on a plane and in the air in a couple of hours."

"Thank them for us, man," Deeks said.

"I ain't talkin' to you, smart ass," Roy said. "You called me a dickwad again, and a fuckin' one at that."

"Sorry. Thought you'd embraced that nickname," Deeks replied, a smile flickering. "Never figured you for the sensitive type."

"You can be an annoying little fuck," Roy snapped back.

"We all have our scars. Some don't completely heal," Callen said distantly.

"Maybe if one of y'all shared what the hell set your little brother off I won't step in that shit again," Roy replied evenly.

"That would be up to Deeks," Elan said.

"Tell him whatever you want Elan, just not so I can hear it," Deeks replied, staring at Callen as he tried to figure out how to repair the breach between them.

Callen checked his gun, but still avoided looking at him, so Deeks decided words wouldn't do it and took a lesson from George, stepping up and pulling him into a brotherly hug. He felt him resist, but he didn't let him go until he felt a soft slap on the back.

"You still trust me?" Callen asked quietly.

"Always, big brother. Always."

...

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