A/N: A couple shoutouts to some guest reviewers.
Cheryl: Thank you for your insightful thoughts! I enjoy reading all of them.
Terrence: I'm glad you gave this one a chance despite your early reservation. Yes, Deeks has a lot of people looking out for him. I appreciate all your thoughtful comments and kind words.
Deeks spends the night at Kensi's, sending Sylvia a brief, pointed text saying he's fine but won't be home. As expected, it's met with a flurry of messages, ranging from annoyed, to angry, demanding, and finally frantic. He reads the first few, then puts his phone on vibrate for the rest of the night.
He simultaneously feels as though a massive weight has been lifted from his shoulders, and oddly more worn than ever. Telling Kensi the truth had gone against every instinct. He's honestly a little surprised just how much he revealed, but apparently once she'd broken through his barriers, the floodgates had opened and all his trauma and dark, ugly secrets had come pouring out. It's a relief in some ways, even as he feels guilty and ashamed that Kensi knows.
He'd eaten a piece of the pizza Kensi popped in the oven. Between his aching ribs and the stress of the evening, he had no appetite, but he ate enough to keep Kensi's concern at bay and with the two beers he drank in mind.
Now he's lying on Kensi's couch, made up with several blankets, and a pillow tucked under his back. It's not the most comfortable given his current injuries, but he's relieved he doesn't have to go home. The thought has his throat tightening and he clenches his fist until his nails bite through his palm to keep the sting of tears at bay.
Deeks breaths through his nose until he has his emotions under control. When he thinks he's safe from bawling into Kensi's pillows, he lengthens the breaths, focusing on stretching each part of his body the way he learned in therapy years ago. Eventually, his mind gives into the exhaustion, and his eyes slip closed without him fully realizing.
Being at work, with Kensi, is good. It keeps his mind busy enough that only a small corner of his mind is occupied with thoughts of Sylvia. He worries about what she might do to repay him for not coming home and ignoring her texts and calls. He doesn't think that she'll go so far as to show up at the station—she has some small sense of preservation, but it's still a slight concern.
Sam and Nell take them up on an offer for lunch, and they pick a nearby food truck that has outdoor seating. Although it's a common enough occurrence, the table Deeks chooses at the very back of the small courtyard surrounding the area is not.
"Ok, my 22 years of experience, not to mention the fact that you haven't cracked a joke once today tells me this isn't just a social lunch," Sam surmises once they're all settled with a collection of sandwiches, drinks, and sides. "So, what's going on?"
Deeks fiddles with the thin white paper wrapped around his chicken sandwich. He'd ordered it more so because he knows it would raise more questions if he didn't.
"I have a domestic situation with my girlfriend," he starts, finding it difficult to choose words that won't make him feel too vulnerable.
"What kind of situation?" Sam asks, taking a bite of his turkey, his brows furrowed. Beside him, Nell is completely silent, but Deeks can feel her inspecting him.
Deeks inhales deeply and in lieu of answering verbally, untucks his shirts, pulling them up briefly to reveal the fresh roll of bandage bracing his torso. They always say a picture is worth a thousand words.
Nell gasps.
"The violent kind," he adds unnecessarily.
"Oh my god, Deeks," Nell whispers, reaching out before she catches herself. Deeks quickly redresses with passersby in mind.
"She did that to you?" Sam checks.
"Yeah." He exhales shortly. "Along with several other…incidents."
"I'm so sorry." Nell places her hand over his. Deeks smiles weakly, risking a glance up. There's no judgment, pity, or disbelief in her eyes, only sympathy. It's oddly gratifying, and not at all what he pictured when he'd considered telling anyone.
Sam nods several times, his expression less discernible. Finally, he clasps a hand over Deeks' shoulder, the strength of his hand comforting.
"I'm sorry this is happening to you, but it's good you spoke up. Now, what can we do to help?"
"I, uh, decided to move out, preferably when Sylvia is at work, and I'll probably need some help with that."
"We can do that," Nell agrees immediately. "When were you thinking of doing it?"
"I hate to monopolize part of your weekend, but she has a major catering gig this Saturday. I figure the sooner the better. Would that work?" he asks.
"We'll make it happen," Sam decides, getting a nod of assent from Nell.
"What about transportation? Do you have a place to stay?"
"I know a guy who will get me a truck," he answers. He hasn't burned all his bridges in the last two years.
"And he's staying with me," Kensi adds. He turns to her with a searching look, but she just shrugs, unrepentant. They hadn't discussed him staying past last night. Given the way Kensi had taken control of the situation, he supposes he shouldn't be surprised.
"That's good. If you need to, I'm sure anyone here would be happy to give you a room for a few nights," Nell says.
Deeks protests immediately. "No, I don't want this to get out to anybody else. I plan to tell the captain about it, but I want to keep this between us for as long as possible."
"Understood." Sam gives him a nod that exudes reassurance. "You do know that this will get out eventually though. No matter how hard you try, rumors will travel."
"I do," Deeks says. He sighs deeply, giving his best attempt at a smile. He has a feeling it's pretty grim. "I'd like to maintain whatever small amount of control that I can."
Beside him, Kensi squeezes his knee under the table, understanding.
"They won't hear a word from us," she promises, so emphatically that Deeks pities anyone who dared to spread any gossip about him. Her fierce protectiveness almost makes him smile.
"Alright, so we'll move you out on Saturday and get you settled somewhere" Sam sums up, tapping his fist on the table. "You need anything else, you let us know."
Deeks nods dutifully. He's already stretched way beyond his comfort level in the last 24 hours, so asking for anything else, sharing more of his problems, seems highly unlikely.
"And if you don't, your partner will," Nell says shrewdly. She shares a nod of understanding with Kensi and Deeks sighs internally.
"Better believe it." Kensi knocks his shoulder in what seems like both a warning and a promise.
"Thank you," Deeks murmurs, feeling like he should say more, something elaborate. To show his gratitude. Instead, he settles on another thank you, hoping his tone conveys everything he feels.
Telling Granger goes better than expected. He's surprisingly sympathetic, if a little irritated, but it makes it no less awkward for Deeks. All his adult life, Deeks has fought to be taken seriously, and this seems like a massive step backwards.
He makes it through the day though without any incidences or whispers. Then it's back to Kensi's for the night. She apologetically excuses herself for a couple hours to run errands, which leaves Deeks to wander her apartment on his own. It feels both too open and too small, everything unfamiliar as hard as Kensi's tried to make him feel welcome. Fortunately, he has a bag of clothes and a few others belongings he kept in his car for emergencies, but everything else is still at the condo.
Eventually, the silence gets to be too much, and he heads out back. What had been a light drizzle earlier in the day has progressed to a full-on downpour, but that doesn't deter him. He grabs a chair off the patio, moving it as close to the edge of the concrete as it he can go and still stay under the awning.
Closing his eyes, he listens to the sound of the rain hitting concrete, the fence, filling the air with the unique scent. He feels some of the tension leave his shoulders at the familiarity of it all. He doesn't know how long he's been sitting there when he hears the back door slide open. It's completely dark though when he opens his eyes.
Turning, he sees Kensi maneuvering through the door while juggling two filled glasses.
"Hey, what are you doing out here?" she asks, eyeing the sheets of rain pointedly. "Little cloudy for star gazing, isn't it."
"I just needed to think," Deeks replies, rubbing his thumb along the scar on his forearm. He watches it turn white momentarily before returning to dull red. He'd worn a t-shirt for the first time in weeks and it feels odd.
"And you couldn't do that inside. I think I should be offended," she quips, offering him one of the glasses. He takes it and takes a long drink.
"It wasn't you. Or your apartment in particular." He inhales once, holds it in as long as he can before releasing it just as slowly. "Sometimes it feels like I'm suffocating and the only thing that helps is getting outside."
Sitting next to him, Kensi leans slightly into his shoulder. "I can't imagine how overwhelming all of this has to be."
Something about having his feelings validated, instead of thoughtless encouragement or chastisement brings that tight feeling back to his throat. Even after all these years, he still expects condemnation at every corner.
"I haven't felt this out of control in a long time. Probably not since everything with my dad went down or sophomore year of high school." He tilts his head towards Kensi anticipating her question. "The gossip about my background made a resurgence, along with a whole lot of embellishment. I spent the first half of the year with half the teachers and a lot of the kids believing I was some kind of juvenile delinquent. I know I shouldn't care what anyone thinks about me, and I shouldn't feel guilty, but I do. Enough people are going to ask why a cop was tricked into an abusive relationship. Or confirm what they already know about me." He hears the bitterness in his voice and Kensi grabs his shoulder.
"Hey, stop that. Anyone who thinks that isn't worth your time. Furthermore, what I know is that you are an amazing, incredibly strong man who I trust with my life. The next few months are going to be rough. You'll get through them though with me, most of the station, and everyone else who cares about you."
Personally, he thinks Kensi's being a bit too optimistic, which is odd since that's typically his role in their partnership. He nods along though, because he doesn't feel like debating. They'll know the truth soon enough he figures.
His phone buzzes beside his leg, and he groans under his breath, checking out of habit.
"Is that her?" Kensi's voice is light, but he hears an undercurrent of anger.
"Yeah, I forgot to put in on silent. She's been calling and messaging all day." The screen is briefly highlighted with a message demanding he come back home. There's a number of expletives and creative insults he catches before the screen blacks out again.
"You don't need to read that. It'll only mess with your mind. Why don't you block her?" Kensi says.
Deeks shakes his head, swiping to delete the message and enabling sound off mode. At least he'll get a few hours of piece.
No one realizes just how determined Syliva is. How…vindictive she can be. He hadn't even fully realized himself until he got a couple days' distance. "If I cut her off completely, there's no telling what she'll do. At least this way, she still feels she has a connection to me."
"And maybe also because it's hard to let go just yet," Kensi suggests gingerly.
He'd like to deny it, but if he's being completely honest with himself, she's right.
"I still care about her," he admits reluctantly, shame burning through him. He rubs a knuckle just below his bottom lip. "Or at least I still have the memory of loving her before everything changed. I know it sounds insane, especially with my dad and everything else I know about domestic abuse, but letting go is incredibly hard."
"That doesn't sound insane at all, Deeks. You invested your heart and time into this relationship. You're losing something and someone you cared very deeply about. You built a home together. I think it would be strange if it didn't hurt." Kensi pauses pointedly. "The important thing is that you don't let her convince you to come back."
"I don't think there's much chance of that," Deeks says wryly. "You'd probably chain me down for my own good if I even thought about it."
Kensi suddenly focuses on her hand, seeming uncertain, and if it was anyone else, he'd say ashamed. "I probably should have asked you if you wanted to stay with me before I announced it. In the moment, I thought I was being supportive. I didn't think how it might feel for me to make that decision for you."
"I gotta admit, that surprised me, but I don't have any alternative accommodations set up at the moment," he says. "I don't know if you've noticed, but it's been really hard for me to ask for help through all of this. So, I appreciate it."
"Always," Kensi says as if she hasn't turned his world around in the last two days. She claps her hands together once, effectively ending the topic. "Ok, so we're temporary roommates."
He smiles back gratefully, impulsively grabbing Kensi's hand and kissing the back of it. It's not a romantic gesture; it's one of absolute gratitude, of friendship, things that he, wordsmith that he is, can't find the words to effectively express. Kensi's eyes widen in surprise, but she doesn't pull away.
And then, because he feels a little too close to tears again and Kensi's staring back at him with open affection, he adds, "Though I'm not sure how long I can put up with the laundry and dishes situation." It's an obvious joke, but it does the trick. Kensi groans and rolls her eyes.
"Hey, I am a busy woman. I don't have time to clean all the time."
"Or ever," he mutters. He expects an elbow or fist to the shoulder, and braces himself. It never comes. Instead, she's watching him with a knowing look. Apparently his ploy to change the subject hasn't gone unnoticed.
"Did you eat anything while I was gone?" she asks, hopping to her feet and offering Deeks a hand. He takes it, rising with more effort than usual.
"I haven't been that hungry," he responds, and Kensi eyes tighten slightly. There's sympathy behind the glare. She points a finger at him.
"Hey, low blood sugar isn't anyone's friend." She pats arm, jerking her head towards the door. "C'mon. I've got Rice Garden on speed dial. And in the meantime, we can break into my emergency stash of Reese's."
Deeks follows her back through the house, lets her order him more food than either of them can ever hope to eat, and then shares egg-shaped candies over her kitchen counter. He lets Kensi take care of him in the best way she knows how and some of the lingering tightness in his chest eases.
A/N: I think in the show and in many stories, mine included, Deeks is the caretaker. It's a natural role for him, and one which he is pretty good at, but he often struggles to accept care for himself.