Disclaimer: I don't anyone from NCIS LA.

I only own Riley Lisbon and storyline

Rating is M for later on chapters for now probley PG-13 there is some language no F-words yet

The storyline does have a lot of twist and turns any good drama does it may get confusing but just remember things will work out they way they its suppose to...pally

Big THANKS to HeatonHussle!:):)


I Need You Now

By pallysjr

A VERY BIG HUMGUS THANK YOU TO SARAH AKA-zana4 for tweaking my fic and adding things that I didn't. U brought it to life for me THANK U THANK U THANK U!...pallyJ

I Need You Now

By pallysjr

There's something to be said about traumatic events. People usually say that what doesn't kill you makes us stronger. But that's bullshit. It's just a lie made up to make us feel better. Because, every once in a while, something bad happens and it doesn't make us stronger. In fact, it makes us turn weak, paranoid.

Marty Deeks stands in the hospital room, his back to the door while he packs his duffle bag. A loud crash on the hallway makes him react as quickly as he is capable of, given the circumstances. He reaches for his Beretta and turns around at lightning speed, ready to shoot the person who just walked into his room. But it shocks him to see that it's only Hetty and not a threat.

The operation's manager sighs and speaks in a calm voice, even though she has a gun pointed straight at her. "Mr. Deeks, put your gun down. You're safe."

The fear in his eyes is something she can see, even from a distance. It takes him a few seconds to understand what she's saying. What he went through changed him, didn't make him stronger. He finally puts the gun down and sits on the bed, looking defeated and scared at the same time.

His voice is just a whisper when he speaks, coated with regret. "Hetty, I didn't mean to do that. I'm sorry."

Hetty nods, knowing better than anyone else that one does not recover from a traumatic experience overnight. "It's quite alright, Mr. Deeks. You've been through a lot during the last few weeks."

Hetty scans the room where he has been staying in for the past two weeks. It's just another hospital bedroom, the one he was brought to after some street thugs kidnapped him and beat him up. They had thought he had something to do with their missing drugs so they had wanted to make him talk. And, by the time the ambulance brought him to the hospital, Marty Deeks was struggling to remain alive, his face unrecognizable.

The worst part was that he hadn't even been on duty when that happened. He was just grabbed and taken to God-knows-where. The team had found him as soon as humanly possible but the doctors didn't even know if he would make it through the night, at that point.

Deeks was rushed to surgery and, five hours later, moved to ICU where he stayed for a grand total of five days, the amount of time it took him to regain conscience after the brutal attack. What happened took a tool on every single member of the team. Even after two years of working with them, he was still the newest member and the youngest out of the guys. They all cared for him, worried deeply. But the worry felt by his partner while he was there was something that couldn't be put into words. She stayed there the whole time, sitting by his bed and keeping a close eye on him through the whole thing. She held his hand and prayed.

Her face was the first thing he saw when he opened his eyes, that smile he loved so much adorning her tired features. That was when the pain on his face started to kick in and he couldn't help but squirm in pain.

"Everything hurts like hell!" That was the only thing he said after she asked him what was wrong.

She tried to calm him down, knowing that was he was feeling was normal. "Calm down, Deeks. You're okay. I'll go get the doctor."

But as soon as she tried to get up to do as she said, he grabbed her hand.

"No, don't go. I'm good." He forced a smile and she sat back down on the chair.

Kensi shook her head, unable to keep the smile off her face upon seeing his messy blonde hair. "You're in pain. Let me go get the doctor. I promise I'll be right back with Jell-O and a comb."

He allowed her to get up and do as she said, knowing that was a battle he couldn't win.

Now, as his boss stands there, looking at him, he feels like a little kid all over again. He feels ashamed, scared and a lot of other things he can't name. "Hetty, I said I was sorry. I didn't mean to point my gun at you."

Hetty's face shows nothing but concern but she offers him a smile. "I know, don't worry. You need some time to heal. You need some time to relax and focus on getting well again."

He starts to protest. The last thing he wants to do is leave. "Hetty, I'm fine. I don't need to go anywhere but home."

Hetty shakes her head, not buying what he's trying to sell. "You could have shot someone just a few minutes ago. Your stress level is off the charts. You have no other choice but to take some time off until you can control that. There's a car coming to pick you up in 15 minutes. Make sure you're ready to go."

He knows a lost battle when he sees one so, letting out a sigh, he turns to his boss once again. "There's no way I can get out of this, right?"

Hetty gives him a gentle victorious smile. "You are correct. There is no way for you to get out of this."

"Can I at least ask where I'm going?"

Hetty shakes her head, the smile still on her face. "The only thing you need to know is that you're going somewhere relaxing." With that, she turns around and leaves the room.

And, true to her word, a car is waiting for him exactly 15 minutes later.