It was nearly two hours later when Kensi's phone buzzed with Deeks' now familiar number. She jabbed the talk button, hissing into the speaker,

"Where the hell have you been? You left hours ago, and I've been holed up in this office the entire time."

Deeks only response was a heavy breath, stilted breath.

"Deeks?"

"Hey," murmured hoarsely, a wealth of pain in the single word. Kensi immediately straightened, anger disappearing in a moment.

"Deeks, what's wrong?"

"I need you to come to my apartment," he said, ignoring her question. "But make sure no one follows you."

"Deeks," she repeated, this time in warning.

"Please, just do it for me, Kensi." Something about him using her real name instead of "Bella", brought home that something was terribly wrong more so than his strained voice or heavy breathing.

"Ok, I'll leave right now," Kensi decided. She started gathering up the papers, shoving them into a spare envelope while she spoke.

"Thanks," Deeks sighed, and a moment later the line disconnected.

Fortunately, Deeks had shown her a side entrance when they came today, so she'd be less likely to encounter Frankie. She still hurried down the hallway once she was out of the office. It probably should have annoyed her more that she was avoiding a man she could easily fight given the chance, but Deeks needed her more than she needed to soothe her ego.

It took 24 minutes to reach Deeks' apartment, which seemed incredibly long when Kensi didn't know his condition.

When she reached the door, she used the key Deeks had given her on their third meeting. She'd never expected to need it, but now was grateful; she imagined Deeks lying unconscious in a pool of blood from a gunshot wound.

"Max?" she called out as she stopped in the entryway.

"In here," he responded, and she followed his voice to the sitting area, relieved that he was at least cognizant. It took her a second to notice Deeks' hand hanging over the back of the leather couch in the middle of the room.

"Max," she repeated, rushing around to the front. She gasped softly when she saw Deeks. Her imagination hadn't been that far off. His torso was bare, shirt stuffed against his lower right side. "Oh my god, what happened?" She gaped at the pieces of bloodied gauze strewn about from an apparent attempt to deal with the injury himself.

Deeks stared at up her through pain-glazed eyes; he tried to shift around to his back, but apparently the pain was too much, and he gave up with a groan. "A bunch of guys jumped me after I left Big Mike's," he told her. "One of 'em had a really big knife."

"Why didn't you go to a hospital?" Kensi asked.

"Guys like me don't really go to hospitals of our own volition. Kind of ruins our street cred."

"I can't believe you're joking right now."

He tilted his head, unmoved the anger directed his way.

"I'm kind of in a lot of pain right now," he said. He glanced down at his side, closing his eyes briefly. "Help me."

Her anger wilted against earnest plea, and she grabbed the rifled through first aid kit until she found fresh gauze, liquid stitches, bandages, and antibiotic cream, and pulled on a pair of gloves.

Wincing in anticipation, she peeled back the now crimson shirt covering Deeks' right side. She'd known it would be bad, but couldn't have prepared herself for the deep gash running from his middle rib, toward his stomach.

"I don't think I can do this," she said. Normally she wasn't squeamish; something about the amount of blood, and the severity of the wound, made her decidedly nauseated.

"Yes, you can. I told you I can't go to the hospital."

"I haven't been trained for this level of trauma."

Deeks closed his eyes again, turning his face away. "I have faith in you."

Kensi shook her head, silently cursing him even as she marveled at his implicit trust.

Her hands shook ever so slightly as she grabbed a fresh wad of gauze and pressed it tightly to the wound, using a second to wipe away blood that hadn't adhered to his skin yet.

"Ahaaaha. Oh, I knew you couldn't keep your hands off of me," Deeks hissed. When she chanced a glance at him, she saw his jaw was clamped tightly enough the veins in his neck bulged slightly while his skin had taken on an uncharacteristically pale tone.

Kensi figured it was a good sign that he was still joking though. If he went completely silent, then she should worry.

Her fingers felt thick and clumsy as she tried to keep the gauze in place and apply a bandage. A fine sheet of sweat had broken out across Deeks' skin, and she desperately cast around for something to distract him.

"How did this happen?" she asked.

"Frankie sent them," Deeks explained around a shallow breath.

"What?" Kensi stilled, forgetting about the bandage for a second. "Why?"

"Well, the guy who was still conscious, wasn't too forthcoming, but from what I gathered, Frankie isn't a fan of my recent business choices. He thinks I've been too lenient, didn't like me bringing you into the operation."

"And defended me after I punched him," Kensi whispered numbly. Deeks had warned her about Frankie holding a grudge. She just hadn't anticipated the backlash hitting Deeks instead.

"Hey, don't blame yourself. Frankie's useful, but he also has a vindictive streak that outweighs any supposed loyalty," Deeks said, gently covering her wrist with his hands. Kensi followed the gesture, seeing blood staining his skin again, and quickly resumed her work before she let emotion take over. "I bet he had this in the works for a while, and this all just gave him the push he needed to put it onto action."

"Where are they now? The men who attacked you." By now, Frankie would surely have heard that his attempt at mutiny wasn't successful.

"Passed out in an alley," Deeks answered. "But I got a friend who tipped off the police about them. They should be in holding. Or the hospital, depending on how hard I hit them."

"Well, that's a small comfort," Kensi said wryly, smoothing down the last edge of a bandage. The wound looked a little better covered, but not much. "I think that's the best it's going to get."

Deeks scrunched his neck to examine her work, briefly running his fingers along the bandage. He nodded once when he was done, dropping his head back down on the couch with a muted thud. "Thanks."

"You're welcome." She watched him shift around in discomfort for several moment. Suddenly it hit her that he could have easily died, and she needed to get out of there before she didn't something unforgivable. Like cry or faint.

Kensi headed off in the direction of the kitchen, making a beeline for the large sink, where she scrubbed at her hands until they were clean and stung. When she was done, bent low over the sink, breathing deeply several time. It helped just enough to get her emotions and anxiety in check.

Feeling more in control again, Kensi rummaged through the cabinets in search of glasses and pain reliever. Armed with two glasses of water and ibuprofen, she returned to Deeks.

He was flopped bonelessly across the couch, one arm braced over his injured side, the slight movement of his chest assuring her he was just asleep. She set the water and pills on a small table, figuring he needed the rest, and would wake up when he needed them.

She had the ridiculous thought that he looked younger and more innocent this way. Sleep erased the hardened edge, the weight of the fake life he lived in the name of duty.

"You gonna keep staring at me?" he murmured, and she jumped back, bumping into the table.

"I thought you were asleep."

"Just resting my eyes." He grasped the back of the couch, straining to pull himself up. Kensi automatically reached out to help him, wrapping and a hand around his bicep and her arm around his waist to support him. He settled back with a labored sigh. Kensi didn't immediately let go, frowning at how cool his skin felt.

"We need to schedule the meet for tonight or tomorrow at the latest," he said abruptly.

"You're kidding." When he didn't respond, she released him, crossing her arms. "Deeks, you can't go out there. Two minutes ago you were bleeding out on the couch." She pointed to his torso, as though he might have forgotten about it.

"If we don't now, word will get out that Frankie's plan didn't work and he'll work against us. Or, someone will start putting pieces together when his thugs don't show up."

"Won't it seem suspicious or desperate if we push for a meet so quickly?" she asked, hoping to dissuade him with reason.

"It might," he agreed. "That's a risk we'll have to take. If we don't, I'm almost certain we'll lose our chance."

"Fine, then I'm going with," Kensi said firmly.

"You don't have to. It's almost certainly going to be dangerous. I won't put that on you."

"Do you really think I'd let you go meet a bunch of high-level drug dealers while you're in this state?" Deeks raised an eyebrow and her and she glared right back, not giving in. "I'm going with."

"Ok, then," Deeks relented with a small grin.

A/N: Oh, we have so much happening in this one! Have I mentioned I'm not a doctor?