Author's Note: So, I'm not dead, and neither is this story. I know it's been 5 years (yikes) and likely no one is reading anymore, but this story will be finished. Two diplomas and a bunch of job changes later, I'm finally in a place where I can give this the time it deserves. There's only a handful of chapters left. Next chapter will be posted in 1 week if not sooner, I just need to put some finishing touches on it, and I'll update at minimum every 2 weeks (after the next chapter) until it's complete. Also, this is going to sound weird but if anyone out there is still paying attention to this, please no spoilers for anything past mid-season 6. The past 5 years have been so insanely busy for me that I haven't even had time to watch my favorite show. - Thx Riptide
Chapter 13: Foes
"Hunger, revenge, to sleep are petty foes, but only death the jealous eyes can close." – William Wycherley
Beep, beep. Beep, beep.
Deeks awakes with the languid kind of return to awareness usually reserved for lazy Sunday mornings. If it weren't for the ache in his neck and back and head and everything, he thinks he could just curl back up with his Kensalina and forget the world. As it is he blinks dry, gritty eyes and wonders at the metallic taste on his tongue. He forces his eyes to stay open and reaches for the water bottle propped between his knee and the arm of the ratty chair he's been sleeping in, and it's only then that he puts the pieces together.
Beep, beep.
He twists the cap off the bottle and sniffs at its contents, slightly sweet in a way plain water shouldn't be. Son of a-
Beep, beep.
Kensi. He looks around wildly, seeing an ISIS ambush and his partner injured and bleeding. Kensi's laying on the couch immediately to his right, dark hair mused around her head and still deeply asleep. He brushes his fingertips across her forehead and pulse, notes that her skin's still clammy and a bit ashen but far improved. There's a water bottle knocked haphazardly across the floor under where the fingers of her left-hand dangle over the edge of the couch and he jerks to his feet to kick it away, feeling a flicker of anger tighten in his chest.
Beep, beep.
Deeks turns towards the sound, to the laptop still sitting open across the warehouse from their last call with OSP what seems like forever ago. He crosses the space, notes a myriad of missed calls and messages, before accepting the incoming video call from OSP. It's Eric on the other side, looking moderately frantic and more disheveled than usual. He breaks out in what Deeks thinks might be the start of a hail Mary in Klingon before shouting for Hetty, and the next thing Deeks knows he's looking at the both of them while Hetty murmurs a fervent, "Thank goodness" under her breath.
"Mr. Deeks -" Hetty begins. She sounds frayed and pulled apart, like the last however many hours have drained everything she usually holds back and Deeks cringes to imagine what this has been like for the team back in LA. It's painfully clear that they've been fearing the worst and Deeks is moderately surprised that he had a chance to wake up on his own without a Hetty sent strike team breaking down the door.
And then he holds up a hand to cut her off before he can think better of it because something is still very wrong here. Kensi's still asleep, drugged and out cold, and Deeks feels a thrill of fury heat his skin because anything could have happened while they were out cold and there's nothing he would have been able to do to protect her. He drags his eyes around the warehouse but Callen's exactly nowhere to be seen. He's heard enough gripes and rumors about Callen's lone wolf tendencies, witnessed it himself in what he's starting to realize is a much, much lower degree, but seriously why did no one warn him that drugging people was on the table? He huffs a breath and drags a hand through his hair, feeling it tug painfully against his fingers, because Callen's so far off in left field that he doesn't know how he didn't see this coming.
Deeks crosses through the warehouse on quick hurried steps, he knows what he's going to find, feels it in his bones that Callen's long gone, but he still crosses to the door and flings it open, and then he startles backwards reaching for his gun as the door bangs shut again. He risks a glance at the couch that Kensi's still laying sprawled across but there's no sign that even that ruckus has stirred her from her drug induced sleep.
Then he yanks the door back open and draws his gun to point it at the dark-haired man standing in the dark outside of their temporary HQ.
The spook has turned towards him, drawn by the thud of the door no doubt, and cocks an eyebrow at the gun pointed his way. His hands remain firmly in his pockets and Deeks huffs a sigh, taking in the crew cut of dark hair, suit jacket, and jeans cuffed over biker boots. He stands eye to eye with Deeks and doesn't blink, even as Deeks lowers his gun back down to his side and grins, "Do all of you CIA guys shop at J Crew?"
"Don't answer that," he huffs when the spook just smiles thinly back at him. Deeks rubs at the bridge of his nose and across his forehead, feeling a headache blossom behind his eyes and the ache he feels in his neck and shoulders from who knows how long asleep in that ratty old chair tug at his patience. Somewhere in the back of his mind he feels a sliver of guilt for thinking that Callen would leave them unprotected and he wonders if there isn't more of the Callen they know still in play then he initially thought. Then he turns his attention back to the man in front of him and snaps, "And who the hell are you?"
The dark-haired operative grins then, thin and bloodless, with only an ounce of humor behind his eyes. This is definitely a far simpler favor than he ever expected the Ghost to call in, but he's painfully aware of what will happen if he fails because he owes the Ghost his life a couple times over but he's under no delusions of exactly what he'll exact as payment for failure. "You can call me Agent Smith."
"Really?" If Deeks rolls his eyes any harder, they're going to rattle loose, and he scoffs at the spook in front of him. "Yeah, I'm not going to call you that."
"Ghost, you owe him a favor I take it?" It feels infinitely weird to refer to Callen by this call sign, this legend, but he doesn't know how much this Agent Smith knows and he's certainly not willing to trust him. Deeks feels paranoia trace cold fingers across the back of his neck and wonders about what on earth is happening right now, because he's playing spy games with this matrix extra and their team leader is apparently still in the game enough to watch their backs.
The spook in front of him tips his head in what could be interpreted as a nod and Marty decides once and for all that vague body language 101 has to be a course taught at Langley or Super Spy School or wherever these guys are hatched from. He remembers Callen joking about unsubtle spies and thinks that he's starting to get it because once you know what you're looking for they're surprisingly easy to read.
"Do you know where he went?" Deeks asks and then rethinks his wording because unsubtle spies and Callen's jedi mind tricks and G breaking into his apartment to make coffee and pet his dog. "Or where he's going? Or anything else useful?"
The matrix extra in front of him gives another thin-lipped smile but makes no move to respond. There's no unsubtle nod or knowing head tilt, just a carefully blank poker face and no small amount of apprehension showing through in his eyes. He knows what kind of legend he's dealing with in the Ghost, knows that while he may have only been asked to keep them safe that includes not letting them follow.
"And you wouldn't tell me even if you knew," Deeks reads it in the set of his jaw and the careful blankness in his eyes. He huffs to himself, frustration and anger welling up from the corner of his heart that hides Max Gentry and what was he really expecting because the entire intelligence community has been playing the proverbial hot potato and he's sure that Callen told Agent Smith not to tell them anything. "Ok, good talk."
...
When he gets back inside it takes him a handful of tries to wake Kensi from her drug induced slumber and then he finds them both some not-spiked water and a bathroom to use. It's several moments later before he comes back to the open laptop. Long enough that Nell has joined Hetty and Eric in Ops and the worry in Hetty's eyes has turned into something apocalyptic. She's taping a single finger on her crossed arms and Deeks helps Kensi into the chair beside him with a sheepish smile.
"Mr. Deeks, Ms. Blye," she lifts a single eyebrow at him as though daring him to cut her off again and then her expression softens into something that can only be relief. "It's good to see you both in one piece. What happened and is Mr. Callen with you?"
Deeks hesitates and shares a glance with his partner, seeing the same reluctance reflected in Kensi's eyes because they've spent all this time playing cloak and dagger about whether Callen's even in the country and it feels taboo to shout this out now. Nell clears her throat and glances between Hetty beside her and them on the screen before she murmurs, "Umm Assistant Director Granger is on his way to DC right now."
Meaning that he's not there to overhear exactly how insane Callen has gone or about just how many people he's gunned down for the sake of his partner in the last few days. Deeks shares a glance with his partner and wonders exactly how Hetty arranged that one. Then he turns back towards the open laptop and snaps, "Callen happened."
Hetty throws her hands in the air in exasperation, but not before Deeks sees concern and care flair up in her dark eyes. As much as she may deny playing favorites, there's no denying that she'll move heaven and earth for Clara Callen's son; or Deeks thinks in the bitter confines of his own thoughts, look the other way when he goes on a murder rampage in a foreign country. That's not fair, and Deeks realizes it immediately because he remembers Kensi missing in Afghanistan and what would you do to save your partner? Anything. Callen's led them through fire and actual brimstone, but Deeks can't bring himself to feel guilty about doubting him.
"Plausible deniability is still a girl's best friend." Hetty turns away from them, heading out of Ops and calling back over her shoulder, "Excuse me ladies and gentlemen, I have several panic bells to un-ring."
Eric leans closer to the screen and stage whispers, "She's not kidding. Hetty scrambled DEVGRU to come after you guys. They're somewhere on a plane over the North Sea right now."
"I'm sorry, but did you just say Hetty sent SEAL Team Six after us?" Deeks murmurs back in surprise because he knew she had pull, but not like this. He looks at Kensi and sees the same echo of surprise light up her mismatched eyes. She's obviously still in an unbelievable amount of pain, her features are pinched and taunt, and the journey from the couch over to their makeshift Ops has drained all the remaining color from her face. He takes stock of his partner, his sunshine, notes the paleness of her pallor and the new tinge of red appearing on the makeshift bandage around her thigh, and decides that maybe that wasn't an overreaction after all.
"Guys," There's an edge in Kensi's voice that works its way up Deeks' spine and demands that he sit up and pay attention. He thinks that one day she'll make a great Hetty, whenever they decide to settle down and retire from field work, because his partner's all kinds of terrifying and then he takes a moment to wonder where that thought came from because this is the second time on this trip that he's been planning out their futures. Kensi wraps an urgent hand around his knee under the table, almost as though she can sense his errant thoughts, "Please tell me you were tracking Callen."
There's a pause as Eric and Nell exchange a look that speaks volumes and Deeks feels a groan work its way up from the very bottom of his soul because that look never proceeds anything good. He's going to regret asking, can feel it in his bones, because Callen's still so far off the grid that Deeks is sure he's continued his spree of murder and mayhem across the Indian countryside. "What?"
"We didn't know that anything was wrong right away." Nell defends, and Marty takes a moment to feel bad for adding to the stress in her voice. He can't imagine being stateside with Hetty while three quarters of her team was MIA in another country. He remembers the apocalyptic look in her eyes and thinks that if it weren't for just how close he came to losing his Kensalina he'd much rather take here to there right now. "By the time we knew something was wrong, he was long gone."
"Callen's in the wind."