A/N: Takes place shortly after Deeks returns in season 5. This one's a bit angsty and explores some possible PTSD symptoms.

"Hey, what do you want for lunch?" Kensi asked, holding her phone up as she waited for Deeks' reply. "Callen is going to that new deli."

Deeks didn't respond and after a minute she glanced up, frowning when she realized he was still bent over his desk, face obscured by his hair.

"Deeks!" He looked up slowly, his expression slightly confused, and a little vacant.

"What?" he said finally. His voice sounded rough, like he hadn't spoken in a while. Now that she thought about it, she hadn't heard him talking as much as he normally would. In fact, Sam and Callen had an in-depth discussion about which of them would win in a triathlon and Deeks barely contributed.

"Lunch," she repeated. "What do you want?"

"Oh, I'm not really hungry." He scratched at his beard, making a face and looked back down at his work.

"You sure?"

"Yup." He started typing again, effectively ending the conversation, but Kensi watched him for a few more minutes. He looked thinner than usual Kensi realized and tried to remember if she'd seen him eat lunch at all this week.

Maybe she'd grab him a sandwich anyways.

Kensi tried not to let it bother her. Deeks wasn't hungry, it wasn't the end of the world. It was his first week back from the most horrific time of his life and his behavior wasn't going to be completely normal.

Still, she found herself watching him for the rest of the day. He'd refused the extra sandwich she'd got him, even seeming a little annoyed that she was bothering him. On top of that, he was definitely withdrawn, quieter than normal. It was like something had been dimmed inside him, she realized.

Sighing, Kensi tossed her pen down, giving up on the paperwork she was supposed to turn in by tomorrow. It was after 8 and she and Deeks were the only ones still there. He seemed almost oblivious to her presence which gave her plenty of time to observe him.

She couldn't remember the last time he'd talked about surfing or Monty's latest shenanigans at the dog park. It terrified her; not just because it felt like she was losing her best friend, but also because she'd seen this before.

With Jack. He'd started out the same way. In their last few months together barely talked some days, unless it was to argue. She hadn't been able to do anything to help Jack, but she could certainly make sure the same thing didn't happen to Deeks.

She started to say something to him, but held back, knowing he'd just brush her off or change the subject. Her stomach growled and she remembered that she hadn't eaten since lunch. She glanced at him one more time, but he still seemed completely preoccupied and didn't look up once as she grabbed her bag and quietly left the room.

"Who's the best partner ever?" Kensi sang about 20 minutes later, waving a foam container under Deeks' nose. He grimaced, leaning back a little with a vaguely confused face.

"Is that chicken soup?" he asked, sniffing. The shadows under his eyes were visible even in the less than stellar lighting, but she smiled like everything was fine.

"Yup. Your favorite kind, with extra noodles." She pried the lid off and set it in front of Deeks along with a plastic spoon. He stared at it for a moment, then shook his head.

"I'm not really that hungry."

"Yeah, that's what you said earlier and I'm not buying it, so drink up," she urged him. Deeks crossed his arms, rolling his eyes.

"Kensi, I'm-"

"Deeks, when's the last time you ate?" she interrupted. He looked stumped by her question, scratching at his beard again and then reaching for his hair. He ruffled it a couple times, shrugging.

"I don't know, this morning I guess." It came out sounding more like a question, which did not reassure her at all. She pushed back the memory of Jack not eating for days at a time.

"Well, you should eat this now before it gets cold and gross." He nudged the spoon with his pinky finger, but didn't move to actually pick it up.

"You know, I'm not going to wither away or something," he told her, a hint of sarcasm in his voice. Kensi realized she been staring at him again, only now he was well aware of her presence.

"No," she agreed. "But it's not good for you to skip meals. You-" she paused and sighed, rubbing her palms against her thighs. "You need to eat."

Deeks looked like he might argue some more, but then the fight went out of him. He grabbed the spoon, scooping up a noodle and chicken heavy bite of soup.

"Are you going to watch me? Cause that would be kind of creepy."

"No, I'm going to eat with you." Kensi pulled a second, larger container from her bag, sighing as she pulled off the lid and sat down across from Deeks. He chuckled as she ate three bites in quick succession and tossed him a packet of crackers without looking. From the sound of it, he'd caught them.

"You're going to spoil me," he said a couple minutes later. Kensi was satisfied to see he was eating, if at an admittedly much slower rate than her. "First Chinese and now soup."

"Don't forget the cronut," Kensi added around her spoon, a little surprised he'd brought up that night.

"Oh, I will never forget the cronut of love." She snorted, nearly inhaling soup, and he handed her a napkin.

"Please tell me that you didn't eat it."

"Of course not. I'm having it lacquered so I can keep it by my bed for eternity," Deeks said, grinning for the first time all day. It was nice to see.

"You are so weird," Kensi said and if her voice was a little more fond than normal, neither of them mentioned it.

They ate in silence for a couple minutes until Deeks started to slow down, his bucket about half empty. He fiddled with his spoon, aimlessly stirring around bits of carrot and onion. His eyes flicked up to meet hers for a moment before he looked back down at the mini tsunami revolving in his soup cup.

"I'll be ok. You know that, right?" Kensi stalled, eating another bite before she answered. He certainly looked more alert and marginally happier than half an hour ago.

"Yeah, of course you will." She just hoped she wasn't lying to both of them.