***

There’s Nothing Friendly About It, Part 6

Deeks came home exactly nine days after he’d been shot. That newfound freedom also came with a hefty set of restrictions, wound protocols, and a few medications. Still, Deeks would take all of it for the privilege of sleeping in his own bed again.

Well, maybe lying in his own bed was a better description; between the pain and his swirling through, sleep hadn’t come easily after the first day back. Right now, he was carefully arranged on a stack of pillow, trying to avoid any unnecessary movement.

Deeks had told Kensi he didn’t want to know who had shot him, and while that was true, it didn’t stop him from thinking about it. This wouldn’t be the first time he’d been injured by a colleague, whether intentional or not. This was different.

He trusted Sam and Callen with his life, and that he could not say about all that many people. Knowing one of them had fired the bullet that nearly killed him left him with a confusing mixture of uncertainty, grief, and some anger. Accepting this was a terrible accident and no one’s fault was easier in theory than practice.

It didn’t help that his memories around shooting were extremely fragmented. Deeks had the vague sense he’d been joking with Kensi about something right before he felt searing pain of a bullet. Then Kensi had been begging him to open his eyes. Or maybe that had been when he’d woken up in the hospital. Truly, he didn’t know if any of it was real or merely the result of the mental and physical trauma.

A noise just outside the bedroom drew Deeks out of his hazy thoughts. He lifted his head just enough to see the door open slowly followed by Kensi slipping through and tiptoeing towards the bathroom.

Deeks felt a rush of affection for her. He knew she’d barely slept or eaten while staying with him in the hospital and she hadn’t slowed down for a minute since they got home.

“I’m awake, Kens. You don’t have to be quiet,” he said hoarsely.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” Kensi flipped on a light and walked over, eyeing Deeks with concern. “Are you in pain, sweetheart?” she asked, reaching for one of three pill canisters on the bedside table.

“Yes, but I think that’s gonna be a constant for a while. It’s not that bad right now,” Deeks replied

“I’m sorry. What can I do? I ordered some soup from the deli and we’ve got a ton of other food people dropped off.”

“I’m not really hungry.” Kensi’s frown increased at his response, so he added, “I’m still getting my appetite back after the wonderful fare at the hospital.” He sighed mournfully. “They didn’t even have any lime jello.” Deeks managed a small grin, which Kensi returned reluctantly.

“It was a definite tragedy,” she agreed. Rubbing her hands over her thighs, she looked around the room. “What about something on TV to distract you? Something comforting like CHiPs.”

“Or, we could snuggle?” Deeks suggested half-heartedly. “I think that would make me feel so much better.”

“Baby, you have to watch your stitches,” she reminded him, even as she propped one knee on the mattress so she could reach him and began stroking his hair soothingly.

“I can promise you, as much as it pains me to say, I don’t think I could get up to any hanky panky even if I wanted to,” Deeks admitted. He took her hand, sliding his fingers up until they gently encircled her wrist, and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Please?”

Kensi exhaled softly and he saw her resolve evaporate.

“You and your damn effective puppy dog eyes.” She shook her head, but there wasn’t any heat behind her words as she grabbed yet another pillow and peeled the covers back. Deeks helpfully scooted over as much as he could, hiding the sharp pain that traveled through his entire abdomen. Kensi carefully tucked herself around him, settling one hand high on his chest.

Deeks curled his arm around her waist, urging her just a tiny bit closer, and sighed in relief. “So much better already.”

***

***

A Good Job

Deeks fell to the ground, his body shaking as he choked, ash and smoke burning his throat. He was vaguely aware of rough concrete underneath his hands and knees and the sounds of wood and more crashing behind him. The harsh sound of his own breathing drowned out everything else.

Suddenly warm arms wrapped around him, lifting him off the ground, and Deeks fell back against a solid form.

“I got you,” a comforting voice said in his ear.

“Sam?” Deeks croaked out. He opened his eyes, wincing against the sharp sting of wind hitting them.

“Yeah, it’s Sam. I’ve got you.”

Did I get them out? There was a baby—” a cough ripped through Deeks’ chest, cutting off all sound for several unbearable seconds. When he could breathe again, Sam was still there bracing him. “What happened to the baby?” Deeks asked.

He could still hear the little boys cries, his mother’s screams, and the panic in his father’s eyes.

“Everybody got out. You did good,” Sam assured him. “C’mon, let’s get you taken care of. Can’t keep Kensi waiting.” Looping an arm around Deeks’ back, Sam lifted him up and all but dragged him down the sidewalk.

“Kensi’s here?” Deeks whispered, his thoughts slow and unfocused.

“On her way.” Sam squeezed Deeks’ shoulder. “You did good,” he repeated.

***

***

The Best Laid Plans and All That, Part 2

This couldn’t be happening.

They’d been so close. For a few minutes, Kensi had thought they actually pulled it off and rescued Derrick without any casualties. Then she’d heard Deeks yell; a warning her, because of course he would never think of himself. Even when they were all but broken up.

Deeks had told her not to come for him, said he’d loved her, and then his comm had gone dark. She’d ignored Callen and Sam’s orders to wait for them, heading towards the spot where the helicopter had landed. Deeks didn’t have time for them to regroup. Every second Spencer Williams had with Deeks, the less likely he’d make it out alive.

When she reached the clearing, it was empty but she found clear signs of a struggle. Scuffed footprints started towards the right side, the pattern making Kensi think Deeks had put up a fight. A few feet from there, she found drops of blood and then what looked like drag marks. The blood almost set her into a spiral, but she pushed her fear and panic down and pushed forward. Deeks needed her, she reminded herself.

Kensi followed the tracks for about half a mile until she heard the murmur of a voice. There was more brush here, but not much. She crept forward, barely breathing as she positioned herself behind a row of scraggly bushes. The branches partially obscured her view of the clearing in front of her, but she could see enough. She inhaled sharply before she could stop herself at the sight of Deeks kneeling in the dirt, Williams leaning over him and two guards standing behind him.

Fresh blood streaked down the side of Deeks’ face, visible even from several yards away. As she watched, Williams said something she couldn’t hear and then punched Deeks, hard. Deeks barely reacted. She knew Deeks could hold out; he’d proven that ability more than once and never broke. He could hold out until Sam and Callen showed up and it wasn’t three against one.

The only problem was she didn’t have a clean shot for all three men and Williams’ gun was too close to Deeks’ chin for her comfort. The interrogation continued, every punch making Kensi wince and her stomach clench with guilt for not interceding sooner. She willed Deeks to hang on, to know she wouldn’t let this go like it had with Sidorov.

Deeks spit out a mouthful of blood after the next blow. He smiled, but Kensi caught slight sway of his body.

“Where is my son?” Williams demanded, his voice hard and angry.

Whatever Deeks said in response, Williams pistol whipped him. For several intolerable moments, Kensi thought he was unconscious, but then his head shifted and she exhaled in relief. It was short lived though, because Williams tucked his gun away and pulled out a knife holding it to Deeks’ neck. Kensi couldn’t hear whatever he said to Deeks, but she could tell that with the placement of his blade, one quick move, the slash of his hand, and Deeks would bleed out.

Releasing Deeks, Williams took a step back, and gestured to one of the guards. The one closer to her shifted just a few inches, giving Kensi the perfect opening.

Not giving herself time to second guess, Kensi emerged from the bushes, aiming and firing. Deeks threw himself to the ground, and both guards went down within seconds of each other, leaving Williams to scramble for his gun.

“Don’t even try,” Kensi said, her voice dangerously calm as she stalked closer. “You’ll be dead before you even get a finger on the trigger.”

He hesitated, fingers of his right hand twitching on the knife and the left hovering above his gun. His gaze flicked to his fallen guards. Nostrils flaring, he slowly raised his hands in surrender.

“You’ll pay for this,” he warned with a dark grin. Kensi thought of Mosley’s years of fear, Derrick being raised in an environment filled with violence. She thought of the knife so close to Deeks’ neck.

She dropped the barrel of her gun and shot twice, hitting both of Williams’ kneecaps. His screams rang through air as he fell.

“Good luck with that,” she said, bending over him long enough to retrieve his and the guards’ weapons.

“I’m going to hunt you down and make you pay for every second of—”

Kensi slammed her gun into his temple, effectively ending his rant. Then she scrambled over to Deeks’ side. He lay face down, his body so still, she couldn’t even tell if he was breathing at first. Her hands shook as she turned him over.

“Baby?”

He opened his eyes slowly, just a hint of blue showing through at first. “Hey,” he whispered hoarsely. “That was pretty bad ass.”

“You heard everything?” Kensi asked, not sure where to touch. His face looked awful; his left eye and temple were swollen, his bottom lip split, and blood coated a good portion of his skin.

“Most of it. I, uh—” He drew in a wheezing breath. “I kind of drifted in and out a few times.”

Cupping his cheek with one hand, Kensi turned his head to the side, checking for signs of a serious concussion. She found a decent sized cut, which was still bleeding, but it didn’t seem severe.

“I’m ok,” Deeks assured her, reaching up to cover her hand.

“He beat you,” Kensi reminded him and she couldn’t contain the way her voice trembled.

“I’m not saying it was fun, but we both know I’ve had worse.” He flashed a half-smile, his teeth stained with traces of blood. “I’ll let you know if I start forgetting who you are.”

Shaking her head, Kensi didn’t comment, but kissed his cheek.

With a wince and sharp exhale, Deeks pushed himself up on one arm. “Help me up?”

Kensi got under his left arm, using most of her weight to get him to his feet. He let out a pained gasp, his hand tightening on her forearm when she wrapped an arm around his waist. She’d suspected he had some kind of internal injury, but right now wasn’t the time to push. They needed to get out of here before more guards or the police found them.

***

The Best Laid Plans and All That

Deeks felt a trickle of sweat work its way down his cheek, the moisture mixing with the dirt caked to his cheeks. Above him, the unrelenting sun beat down on his head.

He’d known this mission had a high chance of going bad from the start, but he hadn’t imagined it would end with him on his knees in the middle of the Mexican desert with Spencer Williams threatening increasingly horrific forms of torture. Deeks stared straight ahead through all of it, trying to ignore the feeling of the cuffs a guard secured his hands with.

If nothing else, he was glad Kensi had stayed back at the base instead of coming with to bring Derrick to Mosley. This would have been so much harder if Williams was threatening Kensi too. He just prayed she didn’t come after him alone.

“Your lack of response is impressive. Whoever trained you did an admirable job, but I’ll have you talking soon,” Williams said, and Deeks tilted his head back, going for vaguely amused.

“You can try.“

Eyes flaring with anger, Williams kneed Deeks in the ribs, striking a solid blow that definitely fractured something. Deeks inhaled sharply, letting out a low chuckle.

“Wow, and here I thought you would actually try to be unique. Last guy got really creative. Every thing since then just seems mediocre in comparison.”

Williams punched him directly in the mouth this time, hard enough to snap his head back. “Where is my son?” he demanded.

Deeks paused long enough to spit out a mouthful of blood. More trickled down his chin when he smiled. “Thats’s better,” he murmured.

Maybe this would get him killed faster, but it kept him from thinking about how tight the cuffs were around his wrists. How much it reminded him of another time he’d been bound and beaten for answers.

“Where is my son?”

“Not anywhere you can get him.”

Deeks had just enough time to jerk to the side before Williams slammed the butt of his gun into his temple. It didn’t hit him squarely, but vision blurred for several seconds; when it cleared, Deeks chuckled, looking up at Williams.

He’d replaced his gun with a knife. Leaning close enough Deeks felt every breath he took. Williams grabbed a handful of Deeks’ hair, yanking his head back.

“You’re going to regret ever interfering in my business,” Williams hissed. “Then I’ll hunt down every member or your team until I get my son back.”

Deeks closed his eyes, and pictured Kensi’s face for the last time.

***

***

Kensi, helping Deeks into the bullpen: We’re almost there, Deeks. Are you still ok?

Callen: What’s going on?

Deeks, almost falling over: I’m fine. Someone just released a—*Deeks waves his hand bonelessly* substance into the air.

Sam, alarmed: You were poisoned?

Kensi, raising her hands calmingly: Deeks was not poisoned. He was drugged. Which is not great, but the doctor at the ER said he didn’t inhale enough for it to be dangerous. He should be ok.

Callen: Seriously?

Kensi, shrugging: We kicked the door in and Deeks got hit right in the face. Luckily, he managed to take the guy down before the substance took full effect.

Callen, shaking his head: Only you two.

Sam: More importantly, what are the side effects and how long will it last?

Kensi: It sounds similar to if he took a really heavy dose of NyQuil with some potential nausea and confusion.

Deeks, in a hushed voice: Kensi was really worried about me. *he leans toward Callen* She held my hand and made me promise I’d be ok. Her shampoo smells really nice.

Sam, raising an eyebrow: Does it now?

Kensi, pressing her lips together: The doctor also said he might be a little impulsive and say some strange things.

Deeks: And she has really soft lips.

A/N: Hi anon, how could I pass up the chance for some whump and the opportunity to expand on Deeks’ role in the episode (which was underutilized in my opinion).

***

At All Costs

Deeks hurried Tiffany along, eager to get her out of such an open and vulnerable location. They didn’t have proper back up, neither of them had any physical protection, and he had limited firepower. Thank god for Whiting coming along at the right time.

As they ran, bursts of machine gun fire suddenly filled the air.

Keeping his body in front of Tiffany, Deeks pushed behind a car. A bullet ripped through the car, way too close to his face for comfort.

“I’m going to get you through this,” Deeks assured her in a futile attempt to calm her down. This was his fault. He shouldn’t have ever let NCIS involve her in a case.

Fortunately, before he had to result to truly desperate measures, the rest of the team arrived.

“Stay down,” he told Tiffany, pausing just long enough to get a confirming nod before emerging to fire off a few shots. He hit his target and saw another gunman go down thanks to Kensi.

Hot-white pain lanced through his shoulder, throwing him backwards, and he couldn’t contain a grunt. A moment later, the last guy fell; Deeks didn’t know who hit him, but he sank down beside Tiffany in relief.

“It’s over.”

“Really?” she asked, uncovering her head.

“Yeah. We got all of them. Are you ok?” Deeks checked her over for signs of bullet wounds or shrapnel. She shook uncontrollably, her face pale and terrified, but she looked unharmed.

“I think so.” Tiffany nodded several times, here eyes wide and a little unfocused. She took a couple deep breaths which cleared some of the fog. “Wait, you’re bleeding. Oh my god, Deeks, you’re bleeding.” She went to touch his arm and pulled back, clearly unsure what to do.

“I’m fine,” he told her quickly. There was still enough adrenaline pumping through his body that he didn’t fully register the pain yet.

“Are you sure? It looks bad.”

“Yeah.” Dropping his hand from his shoulder, so he could still keep a hand on his gun, he guided Tiffany in the direction they were headed before getting ambushed. “The others can take care of this. I want to get you inside just to be safe.”

“Ok.” She didn’t protest anymore, letting Deeks usher her along with occasional fearful glances over her shoulder. Deeks ignored the unpleasantly wet, tacky feeling of blood soaking into his shirt and growing discomfort.

They’d almost made it to their destination, when everything around him shifted, and he stumbled.

“Deeks?” Tiffany said, catching at his hand as started to fall. “Oh my god!” Deeks hit the ground hard and grunted when Tiffany pressed her hands over the bullet wound. “Marty, it’s really bad. Oh my god!”

“It’s going to be alright,” Deeks said, just before his vision blacked out.

***

A/N: Is there a part two? Why yes there is!

***

Sam, supporting Deeks under one arm: There you go. Just a little bit longer and you can sit down.

Deeks, sporting several cuts and a bruised forehead: I’m fine, Sam. It’s just a few scrapes.

Sam, in a forced calm tone: I know and we just need to clean you up.

Callen, from Deeks’ other side: Sam, all the gauze and ointment in the world aren’t going to make those cuts go away in the next few hours.

Sam, glaring at Callen: That’s why we’re going to ice them down. A few ice packs and some ibuprofen and he’ll be good as new.

Deeks, woozily: Aw, you do care. Don’t worry, I’ll tell Kensi to go easy on you.

Sam: I’m not worried about Kensi. Though it would be convenient if you looked a lot less terrible than you do right now.

Deeks, without energy: Rude. Also, I should probably mention that there are three of you and my legs aren’t legging. *he suddenly slumps*

Sam, catching Deeks: Dammit! We better get you to the emergency room.

***

Holding On

He just needed to hold on a little longer. Stay quiet. Not reveal himself. A few more minutes. Then someone would come. Deeks repeated this mantra to himself, focusing on the individual words to distract himself from the pain and resist the urge to lay down.

Dipping his chin, Deeks lifted his wadded up jacket. Underneath it, his shirt was soaked through with blood, the fabric slightly stiff, but not enough to indicate his wound had stopped bleeding.

A simple check-in with an informant had turned into a guy attacking him with a knife. Deeks assumed his attacker was working with their current bad guy. Not that it really mattered at this point since Deeks had won the fight. Well, won it from the perspective that the other guy was dead. A stab wound to the stomach didn’t exactly feel like winning.

His phone had smashed in the fight and of course he wasn’t on comms. Deeks could only hope the emergency signal he’d tried to send had actually gone through.

He trusted Eric to use his wizard magic. He trusted Kensi to move heaven and earth to find him.

If he could just hang onto that, he’d be ok.

A shiver ran through him, followed by a dull chill. That wasn’t good.

Closing his eyes, Deeks pictured Kensi. This morning she’d smelled like cucumber melon body wash when they made out in the shower before work. She’d laughed when he mentioned they’d be late, pulling him back under the stream of warm water. Her lips were soft on his.

Deeks smiled softly, just a little twitch of his lips at the memory. It had been a good morning.

“Deeks! Oh my god, Baby, can you hear me?”

With some effort, Deeks pulled himself out of the memory, his eyes opening enough to see Kensi leaning over him. Her hands ran over him, pressing over the balled up jacket hard enough to make it hurt again.