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Retribution	By : ambrosiarush Category: M through R > NCIS: Los Angeles Views: 13277 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS:LA or any of it's characters. I do NOT make any money from writing this story.

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Kensi held the envelope in her hand. Being that it only held one sheet of paper it was light. The front had Martin Deeks written in bold black letters, all upper case. She looked over at her partner, he had his hands on his knees, eyes on the dashboard as if he was trying to contain whatever emotion was threatening to overwhelm him. Whatever was inside had hurt him, scared him, or angered him in some way. He’d already gone through the pain of losing a friend, of the process of grief. It seemed unfair that this would be the time he’d be delivered something that would hurt him in any way.

She pushed up where he’d ripped the seal and stuck her hand in plucking the paper with her thumb and forefinger. She took in a breath and prepared herself. No matter what it was, she would be the strong one, this had hurt her partner, he needed her. She took in a breath, grit her teeth and pulled the paper from the envelope.

It’s was a short old article, based on the date above the headline, printed out on new paper. The headline had a pain stabbing in her heart.

SON SHOOTS FATHER IN SELF DEFENCE.

She looked over at him, and sees it. Rage. That was what he had been trying to hide. She turned her eyes back to the paper.

Gordon John Brandel was taken to the hospital last night after neighbours called 911 upon hearing the sound of gunfire in the neighbourhood. When police arrived they found his wife, Melinda Brandel beaten. Their son (name protected) aged eleven with a gun having protected his mother from what appeared to be a domestic dispute. The child also had a litany of injuries. While details are scarce, both Melinda Brandel, and her son have been taken for medical attention. Gordon Brandel was treated for the gunshot wound he sustained in the leg and is currently in police custody awaiting trial.

It was hard to read. It was just a little blurb, crime usually took a back seat in the newspaper, she knew this. People wanted to read about politicians, the sports stats and the entertainment section. She bit down on her bottom lip. This was a moment in her partner’s life. It was likely the most emotionally charged moment in his life. He was so young, injured, scared, and guilty, she knew he felt guilt for shooting his own father.

Kensi reached out, placed her hand on his biceps and felt him flinch at her touch, his eyes years away. “Hey,” she said softly, her thumb running along under the sleeve on his t-shirt against the skin.

He turned to her, his eyes coming back with the times, and with it returned his anger. “Who? W-why?” he stuttered over the word and she found the anger wane to worry, his intelligent mind working overtime.

“We’ll figure it out,” she promised.

He seemed to calm a bit, and he forced a smile. “Of course.” She knew he had doubts, it was in his tone, in the way he was trying to hard. “We should get to work,” he said motioning for her to drive.

“Marty, we should really talk about this,” she said. “Someone obviously wants to rattle you.”

“Well they didn’t succeed,” he insisted grabbing the article and the envelope and putting it into his lap. He turned on the radio and flipped through the channels like he normally would. “I’m fine Kens, lets just get to work.”

Who was she to push when she had her own set of walls that she wasn’t ready to have completely knocked down? She’d only taken out a few bricks to peek over the edge, to let him in slowly. He on the other hand had lied before. He had said he’d shot his father six years ago, Thanksgiving when they’d been riding dirt bikes chasing leads after they first became partners. Well... he hadn’t exactly lied... he’d just twisted the truth. She put on her blinker and waited until she could safely merge into traffic. Why? Why lie about it? She looked over to see him continuously flipping through the channels, by his face, she couldn’t tell that he was bothered by the envelope and it’s contents. Pity, she realized, he didn’t want her pity. But he had been honest later, he had told her when he’d been shot that he’d shot Gordon John Brandel when he was eleven. She hadn’t known that, that man had been his father.

For once she didn’t yell at him for constantly changing the radio station whenever someone started to talk. She was lost in her own thoughts. Who would send an article like that? And to drop it off at a police station? That’s gutsy.

She antagonized over the situation until she reached the NCIS: OSP garage. She hit the button on her visor and the fifth door opened. Every agent that used the parking garage had a button key for the fifth door. She drove carefully in and down the ramp into the spacious underground parking garage. She drove by Callen’s spot, it was empty so she figured he’d come in early with Nell. She kept driving down the aisle and made the turn since her spot was on the other side. She passed a few of the tech’s cars, Eric’s monster of a VW microbus topped with a surfboard rack. She pulled into her space and turned off the car, pulling the keys out and holding them in her fist.

She fought to find words, but Deeks was already getting out of the car and shutting the door behind him. She quickly fought with her seatbelt, clumsy in her haste. She pushed open the door, jumped out and slammed it behind her. She hit the auto-lock button on her key chain out of habit, after all, it wasn’t like it was going to get stolen there.

His lengthy natural stride had gotten him pretty far in her the extra seconds it had taken her to get out of the vehicle. Noah Faraday from Renko’s team was walking to his truck, but he had stopped to look back at Deeks inquisitively, he then turned to Kensi and raised an eyebrow in question. Despite neither men knowing each other closely, even Faraday could tell something was up. Kensi shook her head at Faraday to signify he really shouldn’t ask, he shrugged and nodded in return continuing on his way.

Kensi jogged to catch up to her partner, finally doing so in the stairwell. “Marty,” she grabbed his arm and gave him a pull, enough to stop his forward momentum while they were on the stairwell’s landing.

“What?” he asked, the smile on his face so familiar, so normal.

She stared, perplexed. “You are not alright.”

At this he smirked playfully. “Gee, thanks partner.”

He couldn’t be okay after all this, she knew that. Even after seeing him undercover, switch in and out of an alias so completely different from his own... the way he could pretend like nothing was the matter shocked her. “The article,” she whispered trying to find a train of thought.

“It’s an article,” Deeks shrugged his broad shoulders. “So what. Worst case scenario, I get a paper cut. And I’m serious. Those things sting!”

“Marty,” she whispered biting down on her lip.

His eyes went to her mouth, and then back to her eyes. “Kens, really, I’m fine. I lived it. It happened, but it was years ago.”

“Could it have been your father who sent it?” she asked worriedly.

Deeks shook his head, her comment had broke through the facade, his face dropped. “No. Miserable bastard is dead.”

“I... I...”

“Hetty told me,” Deeks said as he continued climbing up the stairs leaving Kensi to quickly collect her thoughts and take the stairs two at a time to catch up. “After I was shot, and she was looking for my next of kin.”

“Your father.”

“Sperm donor is more like it,” he muttered bitterly under his breath.

“And he was dead?”

“Car accident,” Deeks explained. Instead of going through the door in front of him that would lead him through the garage, he chose the long hallway. He didn’t want to give the NCIS mechanics anything to gossip about. He pushed open the door at the end and walked outside.

“You didn’t tell me.”

“So?” He asked exasperated, the last of his playful ‘I’m-okay’ mask falling away. “You didn’t tell me about Jack. I found out about him because you told a guy you were interrogating.”

“He wasn’t a suspect at the time, I was trying to help him, and that isn’t fair Deeks!”

“Life isn’t fair,” he barked angrily. “You didn’t tell me about your dad. Everything had to go to hell in a handbasket before I found out anything. I wouldn’t have known about your mom if I hadn’t tracked you down would I? You never would have said a damn word to me about her. I thought she was dead for crying out loud!”

“Marty, please.”

One of the garage doors were open, likely trying to get a breeze in, or to get the garage scents out. Cedric, one of the older mechanics was poking his head out.

Deeks shook his head, turned around and started storming off to the office that was only a few minutes walk away. Kensi turned her face skyward, the sun beaming down, fluffy white clouds sitting happily in the sky. With a growl she turned to look back at the garage. Joining Cedric was Sierra who was cleaning a wrench, shaking her head and apparently ordering the Senior Mechanic Cedric back inside. Kensi made a grand motion of ‘what just happened.’ Sierra sent her a sympathetic gaze and then pulled out her phone. A few seconds later Kensi got a text.

‘Does this require chocolate, wine, and girl time?’

Kensi smiled and shot back a reply. ‘Likely.’ Knowing that whenever she needed to vent, Sierra would be there to listen she put her phone away and hurried to the office before she was any later.

::

“Mr Deeks,” Hetty met him as he came from the hallway, blocking his path to the bullpen. Callen’s head snapped up from his papers and the two men locked eyes for a second. Callen was on his feet, rounding the desk and came to stand by Hetty. “I assume that was what came for you,” Hetty said pointing to the envelope in his hand. He looked at it as he heard Kensi walking up behind him. And he knew it was Kensi, it was by her stride, the way her left heel of the booties clicked since the plastic bit had worn down to nothing and needed to be replaced. Despite knowing he’d snapped at her a bit, he felt a bit of piece as she came to stand beside him, the scent of his shampoo stirred up from her hair.

“Yeah,” Deeks replied with a grin. “It’s nothing.” He shot a look Kensi’s way.

Kensi felt torn. Part of her wanted to prove loyalties to her partner, after all she’d asked of him to protect her mother and let her go and he had. The other part of her wanted to inform the team, maybe they could make more sense of the article, but she also understood why her partner might not want it seen.

Hetty and Callen both looked from Deeks to Kensi. She shrugged her shoulders looking over at Deeks. “Nothing,” she repeated. She turned her attention back to Callen. “Do we got a case?”

Callen wasn’t convinced, but he let out a sigh. “Yeah, we have a navy intelligence analyst that was kidnapped,” Callen grit his teeth knowing the case was hitting a little close to home. “Her name is Gail Turner, she’s engaged to Thomas Murphy who is a combat engineer. Turner was kidnapped from the home they share in South Pasadena”

Kensi looked to Callen, could see how tense he was as he lead them up the stairs during his attempt to get them up to speed. “How do we know she was kidnapped and didn’t just leave?” she asked as the two agents followed by their LAPD liaison rounded the top of the stairs and walked toward ops. Her question was answered as the doors opened with a quiet hiss, and she saw what was on screen. Crime scene photo’s from the house, tables and lamps were toppled, pictures had fallen from the wall. “She put up a fight,” Kensi said studying the images as the three joined Sam, Nell and Eric under the blue lights of OSP.

“And that is a lot of blood,” Deeks whispered looking at the crime scene photos.

“Too much,” Kensi’s lips formed into a thin line.

“But is it Turner’s blood, or one of her assailants?” Sam asked his arms crossed over his chest.

“That’s what we need to find out,” Callen said before giving his team their marching orders.

::

They’d hit dead end after dead end in their investigation, but they stuck with it and burned the midnight oil. Hetty had sent them home at two in the morning. There was nothing they could do, no one they could question this late at night. Deeks had finally driven his Camry back and told Kensi he wanted the night to himself. She hadn’t looked happy but ultimately had backed down.

Monty greeted him happily at the door, his tail wagging and a beseeching look as if to question why he was so late. “Sorry,” Deeks apologized taking his dog to the back door and letting him outside.

His house was quiet. Very quiet. Especially after getting use to the noise that came with having guests in his home. He opened the door again letting Monty back into the house, the dog went immediately to his doggy bed. “Smart move,” he said. He rubbed his eyes and headed off to bed striping off his clothing and tossing it into the hamper where they mixed with his other dirty clothing, along with certain garments that were Kensi’s. He found himself smiling at the mix.

As much as he had enjoyed the comfort of Kensi’s warm body sleeping next to him the past few nights, there was one benefit of sleeping alone- getting to sleep without clothing. He flopped down naked on his sheets and pulled up the blankets. He thought of how messed up his... thing with Kensi was. They’d tried relationship, but they’d never really managed a date, they’d managed the sex, and on those occasions he’d gotten to sleep naked but then they’d get wrapped up in a case, or they’d be too tired to even talk when they got back, or so tired they simply went to their own homes, and though it was never discussed... it had simply fallen back from relationship back to that simmering sexual attraction... that ‘thing’ of theirs. He could even pinpoint the moment it had fallen back. He’d said he loved her. She hadn’t said it back. And then there was no more sleep overs- of the sexy, naked variety at least. They stopped prying for more information on the others life. They dialled back on their flirtatious banter.

He groaned and rolled onto his stomach. He could smell her unique scent on the other pillow. She’d been here for him. Clothing on, but she’d been there. She didn’t have to be, but she was. He knew where he stood. He loved her. He’d said so. And now? After months of limbo... he still loved her, loved her more, because everyday she did something different, he learned something new, he fell a little more in love with her. And it was becoming a problem. He had already jumped off the edge... and was starting to think she was just going to keep looking over it to watch him hit the ground.

His life was up in the air, grief still gnawed at him it came out of no where, he’d been sitting during a stake out earlier in the day and heard a motorcycle and all he could think about was Evan. He knew it had only been a few days, and he might be able to handle it better if he wasn’t also getting called into the precinct to pick up an article that someone had printed. A microfiche viewer was the only explanation, there was no way someone would have kept that exact paper for so long, and that story was before the digital age of online newspapers. Whoever printed it would have had to have gotten it at a library. Because that narrows it down, he thought bitterly.

Knowing that Delaney would be waiting for him at her favourite surf spot he shut his eyes and willed sleep to come to him. After all, he could worry some more tomorrow.

::

“I didn’t think you were coming,” she said a smile growing upon her face.

“Sorry,” Eric responded with a worried frown. “It was kind of a long work day, extra hours and all that.” Bethany stepped back and he came into her bright and lively apartment. “That’s new,” he pointed at a painting on the wall, a sunset over the waves, a dock and a silhouette of two people holding hands.

“Yeah, just finished it,” she responded biting her lower lip for a second. “What do you think?”

“I love it,” he responded honestly, the things she could do with a paintbrush always left him in awe.

She pointed to his side. “Those for me?”

“These?” he held up the large bouquet of yellow roses, and bright orange lilies. “Nah,” he teased with a smile. “They’re for the woman next door.”

“Oh really?” she replied with a big grin. “I’m sure eighty-seven year old Ms Smith will love them.”

“Eight seven?”

“Still lives on her own too,” Bethany said leading him into the kitchen and taking down a large sparkling blue vase, she set it inside the sink and turned on the tap to cold.

Eric put the flowers down on the counter and took her hand in his, she turned toward him with a smile upon her face. “Happy birthday, Beth.”

“Thank you,” she replied her smile touching her eyes. “But I told you not to get me anything.”

“Those really are for Ms Smith,” he replied with a lying grin.

“Uh-huh, this is me believing you,” Bethany responded. “You know, all I wanted for my birthday was you.” She kissed his lips softly, once and then again. When she pulled away he was blushing. “Cute,” she whispered tapping his nose playfully.

::

Nell rolled in her sleep, her arm searching but only found that the sheets on Callen’s side of the bed had cooled. Walking barefoot in her purple and white pajamas she looked around until she found Callen in the living room, his laptop illuminating the look of determination upon his face.

“You should be in bed,” he said not looking up at her as his fingers continued typing.

“So should you,” she insisted coming over to see just what was keeping him awake. She sat down heavily on the couch beside him, automatically leaning sleepily into his warmth. Her eyes quicky caught up with the data, and despite her brain still in a sleep fog she was intelligent enough to keep up. “Still working the case...” she sighed. “There isn’t anything more we can do tonight, there is no more information, or clues, we have to wait for the blood work to come back tomorrow.”

“It matches her blood type,” Callen said grimly.

“I know,” she whispered. “But DNA comes back tomorrow.”

“It’ll likely be her,” Callen said, anger biting into his voice.

“Come on, G,” she said softly as she looped her arm through his. “Lets go to bed.”

“You go, I have to work.”

“G...”

“What if it was you?”

He had whispered it so softly, so quietly, so sadly that she wasn’t entirely sure that she wasn’t hearing things. She looked him over, there was determination still there on his face, but it was mixed in with sadness. “It isn’t,” she responded.

“I wouldn’t stop, not if it was you,” he told her. “I wouldn’t be able to.”

She ran her hand over his head, the soft blond hair tickling her palm, her heart clenching as her fingertip ran across the scar there that nearly took him from her. “It isn’t me, I’m right here,” she insisted. “And Gail Turner...” if they had anything, she’d still be in OPS sneaking an energy drink, and forcing her way through information, but they had nothing. They’d get more information in the morning.

“She’s on her own... if she isn’t dead,” Callen filled in darkly.

“Are you getting anywhere?” She gestured to his computer.

“No,” he growled irritably.

“You need rest, you won’t be good to her if you’re exhausted,” Nell said rationally. “Come to bed.” She reached out slowly, touching her fingertips to the top of his laptop. He made no effort to stop her so she closed the lid and it went into sleeping mode. “Come on,” she said pulling on his hand, she lead him back to their bedroom.

::

Kensi wished Deeks had just let her come over. She laid awake unable to sleep. The case was troubling her... but it wasn’t her primary reason for sleeplessness. Deeks was. That article? Who had dug it up? Who had printed it off? Who had delivered it to the LAPD? Why target Deeks? Why bring up such an awful memory unless to harm him? And if whoever this was wanted to harm him, would they stop at a single article? She doubted it.

She twisted in the sheets, her nightgown twisting with her. Her bed seemed to big, in only a few days she had grown use to the warmth of her partner, and her feet were icy cold. Their relationship had always been push and pull, but usually she was the one to pull away... but now she could feel it. He was pulling away too.

It was only a matter of time before the gap between them became too much to overcome. What was it she wanted? Him to open all doors, pull, pull, pull all the time, keep her in his gravity?

It isn’t fair, she thought, isn’t fair to expect him to do all the work.

Sometimes she needed to pull, reel him back in... try to make their ‘thing’ work instead of denying it, avoiding it, or playing with it when it was convenient.

She knew her thoughts would keep her up the rest of the night, so instead of fighting for sleep, she got up, made a batch of coffee and took her frustrations out on her home punching bag that hung out on her sheltered back porch.

::

Thanks for reading :)
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Retribution