Prompt: One of the other FLETC attendees asks Deeks for advice.
A/N: I'm struggling with writing more canon FLETC stories because I can't accept that Deeks struggled so much. So, with that in mind, this particular fic has Deeks struggling, but not to such a degree as we saw and he definitely did not fall asleep. Just to clarify, these are not in the same line of stories as the first Deeks at FLETC stories I've written.
"Hey, Marty! Marty Deeks!" Deeks paused on his way to the gym, looking back with a frown as a guy he remembered seeing in about half his courses jogging towards him. "You're Marty Deeks, right?" he asked, once he'd caught up. He was just slightly shorter than Deeks and had a slim build he associated with swimming.
"Yeah…" Deeks eyed him warily.
"Hey, I'm Alex Buschko," he said, holding out his hand. Deeks shook it, still hesitant. "I've heard a lot about you." Holding back a sigh, Deeks gave him a tight smile, anticipating what his next words would be.
"Deeks. And I know, you're wondering what an old guy like me is doing at FLETC. I mean, I'm practically a senior citizen, right?" Deeks guessed.
In the last few weeks, Deeks had been subjected to a variety of jokes aimed at his age and health, among other things, from students and instructors alike. What made it worse was that most of them weren't even particularly clever.
Alex looked vaguely bemused and scratched at his short red hair.
"Uh, actually, I wanted to ask for some advice." Alex shrugged, cracking a smile. "But I can come up with a joke if you really want me to."
"No, I'm good. I think I've got enough age jokes to last for a few years." He felt like an idiot for jumping to conclusions, especially since Alex seemed friendly. "Sorry about that, I guess I'm a little on edge. Which isn't really an excuse." He drew in a short between his teeth, hoping he hadn't alienated the kid for no reason.
"Don't worry about it, man," Alex said with another shrug. "I think we're all pretty tense right now."
"So, uh, what did you want to talk to me about?" Deeks asked, getting the conversation back on topic.
"I've watched you in the tactical simulations and the practice interrogations," Alex started, making a face before he continued. "I'm realizing that sounds a lot creepier than I meant it to I swear I'm not stalking you." Deeks chuckled at that, instantly recognizing another natural born rambler.
"Don't worry about it." He started walking again and Alex fell into step beside him. "What did you notice when you were observing me?"
"You're really good at it," Alex said simply, a hint of admiration filling his voice. "Like, better than some of the instructors. I mean, it looks like you don't even have to try." Deeks felt his skin flush a little at the growing awe in the younger man's voice.
"I've had a lot of experience," he said dismissively, but Alex shook his head.
"It's more than that, man. No matter what they did, you barely tripped up. Even Jones was impressed and that guy is never satisfied."
It was true; Deeks had got mostly perfect scores on most of the tactical and procedural tests so far. It was a relief and, admittedly, a little gratifying after his less than stellar performance the first few days.
"You're gonna make me blush, Buschko," Deeks joked, then regarded him more seriously. "Whatever your question is, I'm not going to judge you."
"I guess just want to know how you learned to do that? Cause even the other guys with law enforcement backgrounds aren't that good. And I know as hard as they try, the instructors here can't teach that kind of instinct," Alex explained and Deeks suddenly understood.
"You're worried that you won't know enough when you leave here." Nodding, Alex let out a long breath.
"Exactly. It's kind of terrifying. Because when I leave here, I'm supposed to know what I'm doing‒people could literally die if I don't." Making a frustrated sound, he gestured at the nearest building. "And three months doesn't seem nearly like enough time."
Deeks smirked a little, remembering feeling the same way when he'd left law school.
"You want to know the truth?" Alex nodded again, suddenly looking a lot younger than he had a few minutes ago. "You won't be prepared. I know it's scary, but you just won't. You'll get through here and feel like there's a thousand things no one's told you because nothing prepares you for real like."
"That doesn't exactly make me feel better," he muttered.
"How old are you, Alex?" Deeks asked, which earned him an eyebrow raised in suspicion.
"24. Why?"
"None of us know what we're doing at 24. I know it's a terrible answer, but it's the truth." Alex started to interrupt, but Deeks held up a hand and continued. "The guy you're looking at right now has a good 15 years of law enforcement experience. In that time, I've been a cop, a detective, and a federal liaison. I've made a ton of mistakes and I've learned even more."
"So, you're saying…?" Alex said, trailing off.
"When you get out of here, give it time. No one has it figured out right away," Deeks told him. Seeing that he still looked uncertain, Deeks squeezed his shoulder and nodded towards to the cafeteria. "How about I buy you a coffee and maybe I can give you a few tips."
Alex sighed in relief and nodded in appreciation.
"That'd be great, man." They were halfway to the cafeteria when Alex smirked and added, "You know, you're not so bad for an old guy."