Kensi woke up bound to a chair, confused and with her head aching. She was in a small room with an ordinary bedroom door, the only defining feature being a stack of cardboard boxes lining one wall. Kensi flexed her hands several times, testing the strength of the zip ties around her wrists and ankles; they were too tight to break in this position.
There were some holes, but she remembered questioning a witness, hearing a noise, and being ambushed by several armed men. She could only hope Fatima had escaped in the chaos.
She felt a little banged up, but it didn't seem as though they'd beaten her, and she slowly exhaled in relief, wishing she could touch her stomach to confirm. Continuing to search the room for anything that might be of use, Kensi tugged more persistently at the zip ties.
A door slammed, followed by heavy footsteps. Acting on instinct, Kensi dropped her head, letting her body go limp a second before the door opened, smacking into the wall.
Someone, a man based on the movements, stepped into the room, walking up to Kensi, and she could feel hot breath wafting down on her neck. It took all Kensi's effort not to react, and hope he didn't investigate further. After another moment, he retreated, closing the door behind him.
"She's still out," Kensi heard him say and then a second male asked,
"What are we going to do with her?"
"I told Johnson we should have killed her there," a third voice growled, and Kensi tensed.
"We can use her. Don't touch her unless I say," the first man ordered tersely, his voice growing distant as they obviously moved away from the door.
Once she couldn't hear them at all, Kensi began working at the zip ties in earnest.
Sam left Deeks alone in the locker room to gather himself, heading back up to OPS. He didn't envy Deeks current situation at all, remembering how terrified he'd been when Aiden was held hostage. He couldn't imagine the terror of defenseless unborn children being in danger. And Kensi…Sam shook his head before he could spiral down that train of thought.
In the time Sam had been gone, Rountree was apparently hard at work; he had various street cams pulled up on one screen and documents related to their victim's wife.
"You find anything yet?" Sam asked.
"No, but I just got started," Rountree replied, flicking a glance over his shoulder. "How's Deeks?"
"Struggling, but he'll manage." He didn't really have much choice. He hesitated for a moment then added, "I don't know that Deeks wants me to share this, but Kensi's pregnant with twins."
"Damn," Callen muttered.
"Exactly. So we're going to do everything in our power to make sure nothing happens to Kensi or those babies."
Rountree nodded seriously, a slightly uncertain, almost guilty look in his eye.
"I hate to say this, but do you think we should bench Deeks?" Callen asked, and Sam huffed an unamused laugh.
"When has benching any of us ever worked when cases get personal? No, that would probably make it worse since Deeks would undoubtedly go rogue," Sam said. "I'll keep an eye on him, but he needs to be involved. He's fighting for his family."
"Ok. As long as we're all in agreement."
Deeks slipped in a moment later, looking reasonably put together, if more subdued than normal. Based on his expression, he'd guessed he'd been the topic of conversation. Clearing his throat roughly, he walked to the spit he usually shared with Kensi.
"Any update from LAPD or Fatima?" he asked.
"I was just about to go down there," Callen told him. "You got it covered here?"
"Yeah. We got it, right Deeks? We'll follow up on any leads Rountree gets," Sam responded. Deeks jaw clenched tightly, but he didn't object.
"Got it."
"Hey Callen," Deeks called out, stopping him on his way to the sliding doors. "Make sure Fatima knows this isn't her fault, ok?"
"Will do," Callen promised.
A/N: This chapter has everything. Angst, whump, mentions of people going rogue (yes, you should read this as Stefan from SNL).