"Ok baby, just three more steps and we're there," Kensi encouraged, supporting Deeks under the arm that wasn't encased in a sling. He lurched to the side, throwing them both off balance, and Kensi had to fight to keep them from tumbling backwards.

"Sorry," Deeks mumbled, bracing a hand on the wall. It took him a couple tries to find it.

"It's ok. But maybe it would have been a good idea stay downstairs." Tightening her grip on his arm, Kensi braced herself in case he wobbled again. She forgot sometimes how big Deeks was, not just height wise. Now that she was supporting most of his weight, he felt like a giant in comparison. She was just lucky that he was semi-mobile.

Eventually they made it to their room, and Kensi helped Deeks into bed. He rolled onto his back with a groan, wincing as he tried to wriggle farther up the bed. He gave up after a moment, cradling his injured arm.

A few hours ago, their day had gone from ordinary to terrifying when Deeks found himself hanging off the side of a cliff while engaged in a fight with an armed mercenary. Kensi's heart had stilled when they both rolled off the cliff, and out of view. Somehow, Deeks had managed to fend off the mercenary until the rest of the team arrived, at which point he'd passed out in a pool of his own blood.

The left side of his face had developed into a mottled bruise, speckled with numerous cuts and abrasions. A larger gash along his hairline had required stitches and now had swelled considerably. The list of injuries was topped off with a badly dislocated shoulder, and a collection of bruises over a good portion of his body.

The doctor who treated Deeks kept insisting he got off easy. Kensi found it hard to agree when Deeks was clearly so miserable.

He shifted restlessly now on the bed, his legs crossing and uncrossing as he tried to find a comfortable position.

"Do you want another pill? The doctor said you could have them every four hours for the first couple days," Kensi offered, feeling helpless. She'd never been good at caring for people when they were hurting. Not Jack and certainly not Deeks.

"Oh god no," Deeks moaned softly, shaking his head, and then wincing again. "The rooms already shaking enough already and I think I'll throw up if I try to swallow anything."

"I'm so sorry, sweetie." Leaning down, she swept Deeks' tousled and matted curls back from his face. His skin was so unusually pale, another indicator that he felt awful. "What can I do?"

"I don't know. Maybe just lay down with me?" He rubbed a clumsy hand over the unbruised side of his face, clamping his eyes closed, and swallowing convulsively. "Or kill me," he croaked.

Kensi slid into bed alongside Deeks' uninjured side, tucking his head under her chin. He sighed, relaxing into her.

"Hey Kensi, can you tell me something?" he murmured after a minute.

"Sure."

"Are there elves dancing on the ceiling?"

"No, baby. No elves," Kensi assured him, hiding her mild concern at his apparent hallucinations.

"Huh. What about cows?"

"Nope."

"Wow. This sucks," he sighed sleepily.

"Yeah. But I won't leave you, not for a second."

"I love you," Deeks slurred, already half asleep.

A/N: Once when my mom was recovering from surgery at home (torn tendon in her shoulder from falling), she was seeing all kinds of pictures in the trees across the street. One of the things being a massive baby bottle.