"Deeks, talk to me. What's going on?"
His was silent, except for heavy, ragged breathing. She didn't have to say anything else, but a quick "I'll be right over."
His door was unlocked, and she found him standing up against the wall. His face was red. Monty was sitting on the floor, and he made no move to greet her.
Tentatively, she stepped into his apartment.
"Deeks," she said quietly. "Tell me what's going on."
He pushed away from the wall, stepping forward toward her. He wrapped his arms around her, pulling her tightly into him.
"Hetty passed away this morning."
She instantly felt the confusion hit her like a train, the shock of what he said bounced off of her. But with his arms around her, she couldn't run to escape it. He forced her to face what he'd just said.
"What?"
Ultimately, she wasn't too happy with Hetty after the whole Afghanistan fiasco. But after all, she knew the woman truly did care about her and her team.
There weren't a lot of answers, there weren't a lot of things he could say. Instead, he pulled her tighter in to him. She pressed her head into his chest.
She didn't say anything, and she didn't produce any tears. She felt her face burning, but she just kept burrowing down deeper into him.
Eventually, she pulled her head away not leaving his embrace.
"How did it happen?" she asked shakily.
"Stroke," he replied softly.
Yeah, a stroke. Whatever. If Hetty was going to die, she'd go out with a bang, in an explosion. Not a stroke.
She put her head back down on his shoulder.
"Why can't we catch a break, Deeks?" she asked.
He shook his head. There were no words. No words to spread or give to her any comfort.
She couldn't let him go. Not now.
"You know, I couldn't cry when I first found out either," he said, rubbing his palm over her red cheek.
"When did you start crying, then?"
"When I realized that without Hetty, I never would have fallen in love with you."