A/N: The prompt below came from a prompt list on Tumblr and was originally suggested by my good friend, mashmaiden.
Prompt: 16. What do you have?" - "Pizza rolls and Cup O' Noodles…that's about it. Popcorn?"
"You doing alright there, partner?" Kensi checked, leaning forward to look at Deeks. Even so with the way he was curled up, face pressed into his raised knee, she could only see side of one cheek.
"Fantastic," he mumbled sarcastically. His hair was even more unruly than usual, sticking up randomly in several places and matted down in others while the left arm of his jacket was stained with dirt and ripped.
After working the same case involving a group of drug dealers all week, it had finally come to a head tonight. Deeks had been at the forefront since he infiltrated the group as Max Gentry. Everything was going well, until their criminal informant got nervous and inadvertently revealed Deeks' identity.
Suddenly, a relatively non-violent takedown had morphed into Deeks fighting off 6 armed men. By the time Kensi, Sam, and Callen had reached him, all but one of the guys was down, Deeks bloodied, but alive.
It was terrifying. Fortunately, Deeks had come out of it with only minor injuries, though he did need to be on a 24-hour watch for a mild concussion. Which Kensi volunteered for. Deeks was apparently too exhausted and out of it to find it unusual, but Sam and Callen had teased her mercilessly.
"Hey, Deeks, we're here?" She pulled into a spot across from her apartment.
He didn't respond so she poked his shoulder several times; he squirmed out of reach, making a disgruntled sound.
"I'm up, I'm up," he complained, slipping his seatbelt off, and getting out with a little less style than usual. He followed her through the door, plopping down on the couch while Kensi went around turning on a few lights and stashed (tossed) her bag in the bedroom.
There was a pile or two of laundry, possibly clean, which she scooted to the side. At this point, Deeks was well aware of her habits and even the most egregious messes didn't shock him.
When she returned to the living room a few minutes later, Deeks had shucked off his boots and lay half on and half off the couch.
Kensi studied him under the dim light; the bruises had bloomed significantly in the last hour, particularly around his left temple, which bore a swollen purple-black knot. It looked bad, but could have been so much worse.
"Hey, I brought you a present," Kensi announced quietly, holding out a glass of water and two orange tablets. She figured his head was probably pounding by now since he'd refused medication at the ER.
Squinting through one eye, Deeks peered up at her. "Oh, god bless you," he groaned, laboriously pushing himself into a seated position. He tossed both pills back and swallowed with a sound of relief.
He slumped bonelessly on the couch, jaw set tightly while he waited for the medication to set in. Kensi thought she saw a few dots of fresh blood under his nose.
The sudden need to comb her fingers through his hair or soothe his pain in some way struck her forcefully.
Kensi shook her head to dispel the idea. Clearly the exhaustion and worry were getting to her too.
"Ugh, my face is killing me." Deeks paused and peeked up at her again. "Aren't you supposed to say something like, 'Well, it's killing me' or 'should have used your fists, not your face'?"
"No, I wouldn't do that," Kensi said. "Not when you look like death." She grinned. "Of course, tomorrow all bets are off and I have free reign to tease you as much as I want."
"I feel so loved," Deeks drawled. Grimacing, he shifted around, looking fairly miserable.
"Are you hungry?" It had been hours since either of them ate.
"Eh, what do you have?"
"Um…pizza rolls and Cup O' Noodles…that's about it. I think? Don't hold me to the soup though." Deeks made a face at her suggestions. "Popcorn?"
"I'm pretty sure I had more in my cupboards when I was a struggling law student barely making rent and—" he cut himself off. "And, uh, waiting tables."
"Shut up. I haven't had time to go shopping this week," Kensi defended herself. Or the last three weeks.
"Yeah, otherwise there'd be a stockpile of Twinkies and Reese's in the kitchen," Deeks joked.
"Ok, very funny. You're lucky you're injured. Enough about my shopping habits, do you want me to order something?"
"I'm not that hungry." He touched his stomach briefly. "Honestly, I just want to sleep until my head stops hurting."
"Ok." Grabbing the TV controls, Kensi curled up on the other side of the couch.
"What are you doing?" Deeks asked.
"Watching TV. And supporting my partner," Kensi replied, finding a nice baking competition. She muted the sound and turned on closed captions.
"Kens, you really don't have to do that. I'll be fine."
"What kind of person would I be to leave you to fend for yourself when you're all bruised and pathetic looking?" She inclined her head. "Besides, I promised to do concussion checks and I can't do that from my bedroom."
"But—"
"Oh, just let somebody take care of you for once, Deeks," she interrupted. "You did your part today, now you deserve to rest. Ok?" She stared at him until he relented with a nod, though his lips were twitching slightly too.
"Ok." He settled into the couch cushions, taking the pillow Kensi passed his way and shoving it under his neck. "Thanks," he murmured. "You're a good partner."