Getting Personal

An NCIS: Los Angeles Fanfiction

By

Maxie Kay

A WHN for the season 2 episode Personal.

Chapter One: Down Among the Dead Men

"Okay – what have you done with Deeks? Don't tell me his incessant demands for a bed bath got too much?" Kensi strolled in the familiar hospital room and smiled at the nurse who was stripping the covers off the bed.

She smiled nervously at the NCIS agent and then took a couple of steps back, putting a little more distance between them. "Did nobody tell you?"

"Tell me what? That there was no Jello on the menu today? Or he ate it all and didn't leave me any?" Kensi looked around the room and realised all the cards and flowers had gone. It looked strangely empty and impersonal.

"About Detective Deeks, I mean?"

"Nobody's told me anything, on account of the fact I've just got here. So where is he?"

"I'm really sorry, Agent Blye." The nurse held a pillow in front of her in a subconsciously protective gesture. "Somebody was supposed to get in touch with your office. I'm afraid Detective Deeks is gone."

"What do you mean he's gone?" Kensi Blye hit the empty bed with the flat of her hand. "How the fuck can he be gone?"

It had been a long day, a particularly bad day in fact; she was tired and she was sore and she just wanted to see Deeks before she drove home and collapsed into bed. Only he wasn't here. He was gone and she hadn't had a chance to say goodbye. All of a sudden, Kensi realised how much she had been counting on seeing him, how much she had been looking forward to seeing him. What had happened here? Since when did seeing Deeks become the highlight of her day? Only he wasn't here, he was gone. Why did that knowledge make her want to sit down in the corner of the room, throw her head back and howl?

Tonight when Kensi she went home, it would be like every other night for the past week. She would watch some mindless TV and she'd crawl into bed and beg for a dreamless night's sleep. And she had no doubt that yet again she would relive those moments when she raced across to the hospital entrance, running towards Deeks as he swayed unsteadily, his gun hanging limply from his hand, as the dark blood blossomed across the bandages that swathed his chest, and started to trickle down his torso in crimson streamss. It was like scenes from a movie that kept replaying in slow motion, only this wasn't make-believe, this was real. And no matter how many times she relived the experience, it always ended the same way. The wrong way.

She was running as fast as she could, her eyes never leaving the tanned figure wearing just a pair of blue scrub pants, the shaggy hair falling across his face in disarray. As she sprinted, Kensi could see the blood drain out of Deeks' face, and had to watch as she saw his legs began to collapse from underneath him. She was still too far away to do anything at the moment when the pain hit Deeks with an unmerciful force that forced a look of blank incomprehension and disbelief onto his face. If he'd been hurting before, if he'd thought the pain from the shooting was bad, it was nothing compared to the fresh hell that was battering his body now.

And when she'd finally closed the distance between them, her breath coming in hard, fast gasps, the blood thundering through her veins and her heart beating so fast it felt as if it was about to burst out of her chest, when she was finally beside him, Deeks had collapsed into her arms with something akin to relief and a faint sigh that almost sounded like "Kensi", only said so softly that it could have floated away like a puff of thistledown on a spring breeze. It was of absolutely no consequence that Kensi had forcibly elbowed a nurse out of the way in order to get to Deeks: this was her partner and she had the right to be there. This was the man who had saved her life, so she needed to be there. This was the man who had risked his life to save her, of course she had to be there. Above all, more important than anything, this was Marty Deeks and more than anything, Kensi wanted to be there.

"I think I've really done it this time." His words were so faint that Kensi struggled to hear them, she had to bend forward so that her ear was close to his mouth, so that her face was pressing against his and the soft golden stubble was brushing gently against her skin.

"You'll be fine." She wrapped her arms around him, trying to ignore the metallic tang of blood that floated upwards. She took hold of his hand and noticed that there was a thin trickle of blood running down the inside of his forearm, coming from the sight where he'd torn out the IV. More than anything else, that nearly did for her resolve to stay strong, the evidence of how desperate he had been to get to her, as demonstrated by a small rivulet of blood that was as nothing compared to the much heavier flow from his chest wounds.

"Ma'am? You have to let us help him." People were crowding around them know, pushing at Kensi as she sat on the sidewalk cradling Deeks in her arms. She rasied her head and glared ferociously at them, tightening her grip on him, feeling the satiny smooth sensation of his skin under her fingers, caressing him as a lover might.

"Don't feel fine." Deeks tried to smile, but the effort was too much. His eyes were wide and round, but they were also clouded and confused. The pain was coming in unceasing waves now, each one higher and more brutal than the next and nothing he did could halt their progress. It was easier if he didn't try to fight it. His head started to drop forward, and Kensi raised her arm to cradle it against her breasts, hugging him to her. She buried her face in his hair and for a moment she could have sworn that she could smell the ocean.

"Oh Marty." There were hands trying to pull him out of her arms, voices telling her to get out of the way, a solid wall of people surrounding them, but for Kensi the whole world was condensed into the immediate reality of the man lying silently in her arms. The man she'd led out here, who had sacrificed himself for her. She held onto him as if she would never let him go, as if he were a crucifix.

The hands were tugging insistently at her now, the voices were shrill and demanding and almost without thinking Kensi shifted her hold on Deeks, so that she was supporting his body against her own, her right arm taking his weight so that his head rested against her shoulder. He was lying almost prone across her legs, his body limp and supplicant, his face relaxed and almost composed. Kensi looked at him and wondered why she wasn't crying. As she raised her face upwards in despair, the crowd suddenly parted and Sam appeared, standing tall and strong, blocking the sun out, so that the day was dark. It was only when the hands reached out and took Deeks from her arms that Kensi finally began to cry.

Each night since that afternoon, Kensi had replayed the incident over again in her head. And each time she reached the end, she sobbed fresh tears. Only when she lying alone in her bed at night, there was neither Sam nor Callen to comfort her, there was no-one to hold her and tell her that it would be alright, that Deeks would be alright.

Kensi had thought the nightmares were been bad, but this new reality was much worse. Now she found herself standing in a hospital room faced with the knowledge that Deeks was gone. Once again, she was alone. When it came right down to it, she was always alone. Tonight, when she went home to her empty apartment, it would be like every other night for the past week: she would relive it all over again, every single second. Only this time, she would know how it really ended. And now that she knew, there would be no tears, for she was pitched past grief. Things had simply ceased to have any meaning whatsoever.