You get a Yellow Jack

Ouch. He'll feel that in the morning.

Battle Picture Weekly No. 81, dated 18 September 1976. Yellow Jack cover by Carlos Ezquerra based on an interior panel by Geoff Campion.

***

One Wrong Move, Part 4

“Dr. Morita said the medication could have some side effects,” Deeks said, while Kensi continued to run her gloved hand along his forehead, cupped his cheek, and settled low on his neck.

Truthfully, he did feel a little overheated, but he’d attributed it to the anxiety—his heart rate hadn’t slowed since this started—and closed-in space. Apparently, Kensi didn’t feel the same; shaking her head, she dropped her hand, hurrying across the room, and pressed the call button on the wall.

“Deeks, I can feel it through my glove. That can’t be normal,” she insisted. She crossed her arms over her chest, shoulders twitching restlessly as she crossed back over to him.

The doors hissed open and a tall, red-haired woman in a gown, mask, and gloves walked through. She took in the situation with a single sweeping look, apparently coming to the conclusion that there wasn’t an immediate emergency in progress.

So far Dr. Ashley Morita had projected a general air of competence and trust, largely thanks to her calm demeanor. She’d been straightforward with Deeks, but optimistic and never panicked.

“Detective,” she started, then corrected herself before Deeks could, “Deeks, what’s going on?”

“I think he has a fever,” Kensi answered for him, obviously thinking that he’d try to downplay it.

“Dr. Morita, you said that the antibodies might cause my temperature to spike,” Deeks said. Somehow, he didn’t think he was that lucky, but his instinct to protect Kensi couldn’t be stopped. Even when he had zero control over the situation.

“That’s true,” the doctor agreed, retrieving a medical grade thermometer. She gestured for him to sit on the bed, placing the plastic sheathed sensor under his tongue. Kensi lingered behind him, her anxiety nearly tangible. “However, we can’t count on that.”

The thermometer beeped and she removed it, eyeing the screen briefly.

“101.8. That’s not terribly high yet, but it is concerning. Especially since you had a normal read during the last rounds.” Morita grabbed a nearby blood pressure cuff and pulse oximeter, placing the latter on Deeks’ left index finger and then wrapping the other around his bicep on the opposite arm.

“Your blood pressure is a little high.” She recorded each number, before moving onto the next. “Oxygen is normal.”

“That’s good, right?” Deeks asked, noticing the slight furrow of her eyebrows.

“It is,” she agreed cautiously. Straightening up, she placed the medical equipment in a bin to be sanitized. “You know how quickly symptoms can appear and worsen. I’d like to begin tracking your vitals signs constantly so we can stay ahead of symptoms as they appear.”

Deeks looked to Kensi, seeing the same renewed grief in her eyes.

“We’ll also need to restrict all visitors,” Dr. Morita added softly, maybe even a touch of regret in her voice. Somehow here understanding made it even worse.

“Ok, um, I need to talk with Kensi about a few things,” he said, fighting to control his voice. He didn’t quite contain the wobble at the end.

“Of course. I’ll give you two a couple minutes.” Touching his shoulder with her gloved hand, Dr. Morita squeezed gently, then left them alone.

“Kensi, if this starts to go bad, well worse than it already is, I need you to call my mom.”

“Deeks.”

“Kens, I’ve kept her in the dark about enough stuff like this before. I know she can’t know the real reason now, but I need to give her that opportunity. I can’t shut her out again.”

Kensi blinked rapidly, chest heaving as she heard what he wasn’t saying. In all the other times his life had been in danger, Deeks always resisted contacting Roberta.

“No, you can tell her yourself,” Kensi told him hoarsely. She almost sounded angry as she jabbed a finger at his chest. “You can tell her yourself because you are strong, and stubborn, and you are not going to give up without a fight.” Her voice trembled, and Deeks was horrified to see tears in her eyes again. “Don’t even think about it Marty Deeks, because I need you.”

“Ok.”

“You need to promise me, Deeks,” she continued more softly. “Promise me that you will not give up. No matter how hard it gets.”

A Very DC Halloween: Yellow Jack (2017).