#dizzy deeks

[stanathanxoox]

Our Babies

“Our babies would be so cute.”

“Oh, yeah?” - Ominis Gaunt x MC

You had just escaped from the hospital wing, your boyfriend helping to escort you there when you had began to feel incredibly nauseous and dizzy during potions class with Professor Sharp. Matron Blainely had insisted that you spent the rest of the day in the hospital wing until whatever ails you passed, having sent Ominis back to class straight after he was sure you were settled. Matron Blainely had run some tests throughout the afternoon and come to only one conclusion, one that you should’ve probably suspected given your most recent turn in your relationship with your boyfriend. You made your way through the door into the room of requirement, having sent Ominis an owl when you were being released from the hospital wing for him to meet you there. You settled on the couch having noticed that he hadn’t arrived yet. Deek appeared a couple minutes later and bowed in front of you saying

“I have a plate full of plain crackers and some soup at Matron Blainely’s request for you Miss Y/N, she said that given your certain situation at the moment you may not feel like eating what is being served for dinner in the Great hall”. You take it gratefully, and chew slowly on the crackers

“Thank you Deek, I appreciate it greatly. Do you mind giving me and Ominis some space while I tell him?” you ask and Deek nods, taking your hand in his small one before he says

“Mr Gaunt has been worried sick about you all day Miss Y/N, kept on calling me to see if I knew any more about your condition. I’m sure he will be positively thrilled to hear your news”. And with that theres a poof and Deek is gone.

You don’t have time to even think or dwell on what Deek had just said to you because the door cracks open and you hear the worried voice of your boyfriend call out

“Y/N? Are you in here? I got your owl and came as quickly as I could” he says as he rushes into the room. You stand and make your way over to him, suddenly very nervous about the whole situation. You had known right from the beginning of your friendship with Ominis that he didn’t care much for his family or for what they had done and how much he wanted to escape. How much after this last year of school he wanted to leave and never return to his families home ever again. You hadn’t really talked about children apart from that if you had them they weren’t to be anything like his family. But you couldn’t help but worry what would happen given that you were both unmarried and - you couldn’t think of that. Your hands are ringing together, a sign of how anxious and nervous you are, something that even though Ominis can’t see he can still pick up

“My sweet Y/N, what is wrong?” he asks, placing his hands gently on your arms to reassure you

“Our babies would be so cute” you say, blurting the first thing that comes to your mind, another anxious trait you had. He raises an eyebrow even more confused as he asks

“Oh yeah?” and you nod your head before gently taking his hands and placing them on the slight bump that is your growing baby. You watch the different expressions flicker across his face, from shock, astonishment and wonder, to happiness and excitement

“Are you serious right now?” he asks, his voice a whisper and you nod leaning in and whispering

“Yes Ominis, we’re having a baby, Blainely thinks I’m about 12 and a half weeks pregnant” 

“We’re having a baby” he whispers before pressing a kiss to your lips and you smile

“Ominis, what does this mean for us and the baby?” you ask and he places a kiss to your forehead

“We have two months left till graduation my sweet girl, and then we can marry and raise this baby  together” he declares as if it was the surest thing in the whole world.

“Are you sure?” you ask and he nods

“Of course I’m sure my sweet girl, a life without you in it just doesn’t seem worth living and now that I know we’re having our own precious little one well that’s even more reason for us to be together don’t you think sweet girl?” he asks and you nod, as tears slip down your face

“I love you Ominis” you whisper and he beams. 

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[ejzah]

Blunt Force, Part 10

***

“Alright, now follow the light. Look to the left and then the right.”

Deeks followed Dr. Lesley’s instructions, relieved when the brightness of the pen light didn’t result in shooting pain. A full week had passed since he’d been released from the hospital and while he saw little improvements every day, it felt excruciatingly slow.

Dr. Lesley stepped back and clicked off the light, reattaching it to her lanyard and wrote on her clipboard. She’d already run through several cognitive screenings, tested his reflexes, attention (Deeks had joked that was never an area he excelled in), processing speed, and short memory, among other things.

“So, did I pass?” he asked, playing it off as yet another joke.

“Your pupil response appears normal and your tracking speed is much better than it was last week. So, yes,” she replied, offering him a smile. “I’m really impressed with your progress in such a short time.”

“I’d say thanks, but, uh, all I’ve done most days is eat, sleep, and listen to audio books when it’s not too overstimulating.”

“Which is exactly what you’re supposed to be doing.” Pulling a rolling stool over with one foot, she sat, and faced him. “You don’t know how many people ignore medical advice and watch TV all day or try to start working out before they’re ready.”

“Well, I probably would be doing those things if they didn’t hurt,” he replied with a self-deprecating smile. He’d never been great at following doctor’s orders.

“I’m glad you’re listening to your body. Speaking of, are you still experiencing frequent nausea, headaches, or dizziness?” she asked.

“The nausea’s a lot better.” At least compared to the first few days. “Most of the time, I only experience nausea when I’m really tired or early in the morning. The headaches are still pretty frequent, but not as bad and the dizziness happens mostly when I move too fast.”

“Good. That just leaves your memory. Obviously, your short term and long term memory pre-2006 are excellent, but have you remembered anything from that six year gap?”

“The other night I had a weird dream about playing laser tag with my partner, Kensi,” he said with a shrug. “Halfway through, the other team suddenly had real guns and Russian accents. So, I guess it could be a memory. Or the produce of the murder mystery I’ve been listening to.”

Dr. Lesley’s eyebrows rose, and brief amusement crossed her face. “That is an interesting dream. There’s always the possibility it’s rooted in some part of reality.”

“Yeah.” He sighed, focusing on a diagram of the spinal column and its accompanying nerves instead in an attempt to control the anxiety that filled him. Brushing at his bangs, he exhaled loudly and admitted. “I haven’t remembered anything. Sometimes I try to convince myself I remember the things Kensi tells me or recognize the pictures in my apartment, but I’m, uh, I’m just lying to myself.”

Reaching out, Dr. Lesley placed her hand over his. The unexpected contact had Deeks blinking back tears; outside of Kensi he’d had very little human contact and even less comfort. Thankfully, she didn’t say a word until he’d mostly gathered himself and wasn’t in danger of openly crying.

“I know it’s disconcerting and frustrating, but you are making progress. Just like with everything else, you need to give yourself time to heal and recover,” she said, and he nodded quickly.

“Right. Thank you.”

“I have faith in you, Marty Deeks.”

“Now that’s not something I hear often,” he joked, clearing his throat a couple times as she lifted her hand and made a few more notes. “So, what are your recommendations for me?”

“I’d like you to hold off on driving for another few weeks at least. We’ll reevaluate after your next appointment in two weeks. Other than that, limit your screen time, keep to light activity, and continue talking with your coworkers and other people you’re close to. It can help stimulate some of those memories.”

“Right.” He didn’t love the continued restrictions, but reminded himself once again that he’d been in the hospital a week ago. “Thank you,” he added belatedly. “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”

“Of course. And if you have any questions or need anything, feel free to call me.” She scrawled something on a notepad, tore off the slip of paper, and handed it to me. “That’s my cell number. I trust you won’t abuse it.”

“I won’t.”

“Good. Do you have a ride home?”

“Yeah, Kensi’s picking me up,” he said.

“Alright. If you don’t have anymore questions today, I’ll see you in two weeks,” she told him, standing. “Make sure you stop in the office to schedule your follow up appointment.”

[densi-mber]

A/N: This is an AU for “Sorry For Your Loss” from season 13, where Deeks’ knife wound is more significant than on canon.

***

And If I Slip Away

Deeks hadn’t liked this case since the moment Miriam Sivac opened her front door and assumed he was her pool boy/gigolo. It wasn’t anything he hadn’t dealt with before, but she gave off creepy serial killer vibes. Or at least someone who would have no problem taking out an inconvenient relative or two.

So, it didn’t come as much of a surprise when she sold them out. As chaos broke out, Deeks intercepted the nearest guard, knocking the gun from his hand. The guy whipped out a knife with an impressive amount of speed.

The blade slashed across Deeks’ forearm, adrenaline blocking out most of the pain as he blocked the next blow with his serving tray. He felt blood trickle up his arm with the force of the movement. The guard took his opportunity to escape, running off towards a vehicle, and Deeks decided not to pursue.

“Deeks!” Kensi called out, mid-run from the sound of it, and hopefully unharmed.

He had just long enough to grab a serviette from the catering van and tie it around his arm before rushing off in Kensi and Callen’s direction.

“You know, you could have told us you were back there earlier,” Kensi said once shoot out was over and they waited for back up and ambulances. She sounded annoyed, but he knew it masked concern and lingering stress of the last 15 minutes.

“Where would be the fun in that. Besides, I needed you guys to act naturally,” he replied with a grin.

“Excuse me, are too implying that me and Callen don’t have the skills to act like you weren’t there?”

“I said nothing of the kind.”

“Oh no, you just—Deeks, why are you bleeding?” Cutting herself off, she pointed to his injured arm. He’d honestly almost forgotten about it, brushing off most of the pain what with the whole surprise hearse ride and shoot out

“Turns out the guy I took out also had a knife,” he answered wryly. He lifted up his arm so she could examine it. “He caught me a little bit.”

“That looks like more than a little cut,” Kensi observed, her earlier teasing completely replaced by concern. Deeks twisted his arm to see for himself. With the dark napkin, it was harder to tell, but now he saw the fabric was saturated.

“Let me see?” Kensi carefully held his arm in her left, uniting the cloth with the other. Whatever clotting had started must have broken, because as soon as she moved the napkin, blood immediately welled up from the cut. “Oh my god. It must have hit a vein or artery,” she said hoarsely.

Replacing the cloth, Kensi pushed down, hard, and now he definitely felt it.

“Aah! Damn it, that really hurts!” he hissed. “It’ll be ok,” he assured her, even as he felt more blood dripping past the napkin and down his arm.

“Fatima? We need an ambulance here ASAP. Deeks has a cut to his forearm and the bleeding’s not stopping,” she rattled off, applying pressure the entire time.

It still wasn’t enough. A wave of dizziness rocked through him and he felt the first hints of panic. He knew all the statistics about bleeding out. Had seen it happen in real time. At this rate, he didn’t have long if it didn’t stop soon.

“Deeks?”

“I’m a little dizzy,” he managed, unnerved by how unsteady his legs felt.

“Ok, let’s sit down.” Helping him to the ground, Kensi twisted around, searching through the crowd of people around. “Callen! I need help!”

A fresh wave of blood ran down his arm, making his stomach twist with nausea. He glanced up into Kensi’s eyes, which were wide with obvious panic.

He zoned out then, distantly aware of Kensi and Callen discussing a tourniquet. A sharp pain brought him back out of the fog and he screamed, head flying off the ground as he gasped.

Panting, he grabbed onto a handful of dirt, wondering when he’d laid down.

“I’m sorry,” Kensi murmured, cupping his cheek. “The ambulance is almost here.”

“Issa ‘kay.”

��Keep talking to me, Deeks, ok?”

“Mmm. Worst funeral ever,” he muttered, smiling vaguely when Kensi choked out a quiet sob. A smear of blood streaked across her right cheek. Reaching up, he clumsily tried to wipe it off, but his fingers wouldn’t cooperate. Instead, he settled for brushing his knuckles across her skin.

“You’re beautiful,” he slurred. He blinked, feeling oddly calm.

“No, no, no, no! Deeks. No, don’t close your eyes!” Kensi screamed. “Baby, stay awake. It’s going to be ok. Just don’t leave me.”

“Love you, Kens,” he murmured.

And the pain stopped.

***

A/N: Before you burst into tears like I nearly did while writing this, rest assured that Deeks is not dead.

[aladaylessecondblog]

Severed Destiny, pt. 11

Summary: Haj-deek leaves Tel Fyr and stumbles upon the Erabenimsun camp. They give her a task to complete to be named Nerevarine, but it leads to something much more than she was expecting.

----------------

Haj-deek stayed another couple of weeks, finding herself extra curious to see what exactly Divath Fyr expected her blood to do to the corprus patients. Or rather, the "serum" he was making from it.

"A few drops and I have the beginnings of something wonderful," Divath said on the morning, "I chose one of the patients to receive your blood directly--one of those that is worst off. The samples I took from him yesterday show a slight reduction in the presence of corprus...not a rapid decrease, but enough that it's noticeable. Progress is progress, after all!"

"Is it too soon to say there could be a cure?"

"Much too soon," he said, "But the fact that there is a noticeable reduction is a miracle in itself. I'll be working on a serum for those with more severe cases, of course, but receiving a direct transfusion - giving your blood directly - seems to be the fastest treatment...so far."

She thought for a moment.

"Maybe you should try giving my blood to those who are...newly brought in? The ones whose infections haven't gone so far?"

"Hrm...I had been thinking of that..." Fyr stroked thoughtfully at his beard, "Give me one more sample, and I shall do exactly that. My stock runs low...and I know you will not stay much longer. I hope to see your immunity pass, and then be reflected in their blood, such that I can pass it from them to another--but I can see I am boring you."

"It's not that you bore me," Haj-deek replied quickly, "It's only that I don't understand."

She shifted a little uncomfortably.

"Have you considered writing a book...maybe a series, on this treatment? You've taken notes, of course. A record put together could be useful, so if this treatment is successful, things could be given...timelines, perhaps, or...it could be helpful somehow. I'm sure. Uupse would be able to give a description of how they act after, given she's the one seeing the most of them day-to-day. "

"I have kept quite extensive notes...but a book?"

"I know Telvanni generally don't like sharing secrets, but--it's not just this treatment, a lot of what you're doing could be beneficial. The magnifier tool, the blood drawing tool...it could help fund things...I'm sorry, I know I'm rambling."

"No, no, that's a good idea." Divath Fyr lifted a finger and almost immediately turned back around to scribble it down. "I suppose you'll want a credit? Though if I mention you're the source of my serum, it could lead to the Temple being...unhappy with you."

"Vivec trained me, and seems to approve. I'm surprised you didn't hear about that, but...you've been busy."

"I stay busy," he replied, waving his free hand absently, "After all, there's a lot to work through here. Even if I never saw you again you've given me a wealth of things to work on."

That felt good...she did like the feeling of knowing she'd helped.

---------------------------------------------

Haj-deek gave one more sample of blood, after which Uupse insisted she wait a few days before actually leaving. Giving one's blood tended to make one weak, after all. The morning of Haj-deek's departure Uupse questioned her as they served the breakfast porridge out, wanting to be sure she was feeling well.

"No faintness? Dizziness? Nausea?"

"None of that, I swear. I'm fine."

"Have you been eating fish like I told you, to strengthen your blood?"

"Of course I have." She gave a laugh. "Strong as ever."

"You children all think you're invincible," Uupse said with a little smile.

After giving Yagrum his breakfast, the next was the corprus patient that had hugged Haj-deek. He seemed to perk up on sight of her, and his mouth twitched in what might almost be called a smile.

"This one will miss you when you go," Uupse went on, "It's been...good to see any of them interested in anything that's not wandering or moaning."

"I wish I knew why."

"The mind will make strange associations and decisions when it is this far gone. I've said it before, but...he must think you're some friend or relation of his. You fit some part of someone important to him so his mind simply...decides that you must be that person. If he isn't trying to grab you or jerk you about it's best just to pretend that you are who he thinks you are. It keeps them happy when you do things like that."

"It's still strange, but if you really think it will work..." Haj-deek handed the bowl of porridge to the patient. He ate quickly, and then looked back up at her.

After a moment's hesitation he reached a trembling hand up to her face.

There was a tense moment, at least from Haj-deek and Uupse's point of view, but it passed quickly. The swollen hand lowered to one of hers and lifted the one on which she was wearing the moon-and-star.

"That means I'm the Nerevarine," she said carefully, "Isn't it pretty?"

"Mmm....mmmma...." The patient was trying once more to speak, and the thinnest black trickle began to spill from its eyes like a steady stream of tears.

"No, no, you don't need to say anything. It's alright," Haj-deek replied. "Alright?"

"Mmmm..." The patient touched the ring with his other hand, and looked at her again. "Maa....maa...ther..."

"Mah-ther?"

He shook his head and started trying harder, though the trickle was growing thicker. "Ma...ma....ma-ther..."

"I think he's saying mother," Uupse said in a soft tone.

The patient nodded eagerly, and Haj-deek cast a glance back up at her as he spoke again.

"Mo-THER!" The patient finally grated out.

"Yes, it was my mother's ring," she said in what she hoped was a kind tone. "I'll have to be going soon, you know. But if you like, I can come back to see you."

She hadn't really minded taking care of the victims. She liked helping people, and given what Divath Fyr had told her she was doing these poor folk a world of good.

The patient nodded in his eager way again, and looked back down at the ring. The stream of black fluid slow, and Uupse handed Haj-deek a rag to clean the mess of it from his face.

"There, all better," she said with another smile.

"What do you think you'll go for first? The Erabenimsun?" Uupse took the dirty rag and put it aside.

Haj-deek paused, and thought. "That makes sense. They're the closest tribe...but I've also heard they're the most...unfriendly."

"Not of late. Han-Ammu is not so unfriendly as his predecessor, and I'm sure you'll find him more agreeable than your mother found things to be when she made her trip there years ago."

"That's good to hear, at least."

She would take whatever good news she could get. Vivec would probably tell her to come straight back, but...

...but it couldn't hurt to speak to the Erabenimsun. They were close, and likely their favor, whatever it would be, wouldn't take her too far off the trail.

One last visit was made to Yagrum, who had himself been a recipient of Fyr's 'serum' and seemed to be better in some way she couldn't quite define.

"Remember what I told you," he said, "And be careful."

"I will be," she nodded. "And...thank you. You've been helpful for...I'm sure I won't know until I see my father, but..."

Deep breath.

She wanted to stay, but as she'd thought to herself in Ebonheart - she knew she could not. There was no way back, and if she tried, things would only get worse.

The only way out - is through, Vivec's words from some lesson or another came back to her then.

And so she left.

---------------------------

The trip to the camp itself was more taxing than actually speaking to Han-Ammu. The blight winds had kicked up in a major way, so Haj-deek put on her helmet. Sunchaser absolutely refused to come out from under her cloak.

She made her argument to the wise woman Manirai, who seemed somewhat suspicious of her, but nonetheless directed her to the ashkhan.

"Another Nerevarine?" He asked, "Well, it didn't take as long as some of the elders say it took between the last two. You want me to name you Nerevarine?"

Haj-deek nodded. "I already have the ring, but...it will make things easier if I follow the same path as m--the last one."

He gave his own nod. "There's a task I was about to send a group to deal with...some I have asked to look into the problem have been too superstitious to enter the tomb."

"The tomb?"

"On the very corner between the Arethan and Alas tombs," Han-Ammu went on, "There was a rock slide and a doorway into a tunnel appeared. The first investigation of it showed that it was an abandoned family tomb...but then they noticed...symbols..."

A pause.

"They realized it was a House Dagoth tomb that had been buried...covered up, and refused to go back in. The spirits are no doubt angry at the intrusion, but at the same time the problem has to be dealt with."

"What problem, exactly? The spirits don't usually leave their tombs."

Something leaped inside her. A House Dagoth tomb. She'd thought there were none that actually existed anymore. But if this one was what Han-Ammu was saying it was--

"Simply collapse the entrance again, in whatever way suits you best, and I'll name you Nerevarine."

Collapse it, hide it, cover it up.

It didn't feel right, not at all, but she nodded anyway, and after getting directions to the tomb, turned to leave.

---------------------

Back into the blight storm, which was harder still to get through. Sunchaser was trembling the entire way beneath her cloak. Something was spooking her more so than even the storm between Tel Fyr and the Erabinmsun camp, and she couldn't figure out what it was.

The poor thing was just a beast, though, and she figured it must be that. Sunchaser must fear conditions that made it harder to fly...or levitate, as it was.

She had to grope against the rocky walls to find her way, and nearly stumbled into the Arethan tomb thinking it was the one she was looking for. She very nearly went in hoping it would be a respite from the storm, but thought--she was close enough, why not keep going?

Something told her keep moving.

Her mother's ashes had never answered her. Would THESE?

She kept moving, keeping an eye out for danger or anything that might attack her, but the constant whoosh of the storm was all that her senses picked up. How much farther? Maybe the ashkhan had lied to her, maybe this was a chance for him to be rid of her. Maybe he was exactly as unfriendly as she'd heard--

And then, suddenly, she fell. Her hand reached for something to hold to and found nothing beneath it. She stumbled, and tumbled down a slope, and when she finally stood again there was an overwhelming feeling of oppression.

Of silence.

Of misery.

Once Sunchaser calmed down there was no sound but the heavy silence that covered them like a blanket.

"Hello?" she called out. The word echoed, and she fumbled for a torch to light. Once it was ready she lifted it, and looked around.

There was no answer.

She'd tumbled into some sort of tunnel between the different alcoves, and there was dust, grime, and spiderwebs everywhere. Looking into her bag again she took some sea glass and set a few chunks of it on the floor. The light of her torch caught on them nicely, and satisfied, she stood back up.

"Hello?" she called again.

Faint, so faint she could later not be convinced she'd heard it at all, there was finally something.

A sound of someone crying.

She walked forward, looking into the first alcove on her left, that lead into a room with a pit of sorts filled with ashes. As she knelt by the pit she saw several ghosts, or specters, approaching from the back of the room. At once she was afraid--reaching for her dagger, thinking the worst--but after a moment's thought she came up with something to say.

"I'm one of you!"

The specters stopped. Haj-deek pulled her hand away from the dagger and into another bag, producing a bit of pretty sea glass, which she laid on the edge of the pit against the ashes, as she had done so many times with her own mother's.

"I...I offer this bauble," she said in a shaky voice, "In reverence of my ancestors."

She folded her hands, and prayed as she had done for her own mother's ashes, as she had heard others say they did. Surely this would calm them down? If this was the first time the tomb had been visited since it was collapsed...they would have seen no one in all that time.

Guide me in what comes ahead, so I might know what to do to save my father.

It felt...it felt as though she were being watched. Never in all the time she had done this for her mother's ashes had there ever been this sensation of being seen, this feeling of not being alone.

She left the room without trouble, feeling a shift in the air as she moved. Minute, but noticeable all the same. A similar offering was left in the next room, and the next. As she moved along, however, she noticed she was being followed by some of the ghosts.

Who? was the only clear thing heard. Who?

"My father," she said, "My father was--is--one of you, and my mother...died having me."

As she approached the last and largest room, some of them drew closer. As the door opened, one of them--she couldn't quite tell who--spoke again.

(The relief was overwhelming. Family. They were family, in some way or another...she had a FAMILY.)

What is your name?

"H-Haj-deek. It's argonian...because...because I...was raised by argonians."

And then, amidst all the somber feeling, there was a sudden snap and change.

Damn lizards, naming one of our children in their tongue!

"My father doesn't know about me yet, I...I came to ask for...for guidance on how to help him. He's..."

Who is he?

First one voice, then several, then a veritable crowd, in what sounded like every possible age. Visible and invisible, they were surrounding her, swirling about her, clinging to her.

Who?

She stepped further into the room, utterly overwhelmed by the sound and weight of all those voices.

Who?

And then, finally, one last voice. Strong, like a wizened old woman.

Who is he?

"V....Voryn Dagoth," Haj-deek stuttered. She turned towards the pit of ashes before her, and saw a ghost rise from it--spectral robes, long hair, an air of absolute authority...and a face very similar to the one she saw nearly every time she looked in the mirror, albeit with a few obvious mistakes like sharper cheekbones and a softer chin. Was the Dagoth face really so strong it showed in every generation?

The woman, whoever she was, carried herself with the utmost noble superiority.

"In life I was Morvani Dagoth, the lady and head of House Dagoth. This," she gestured to the ash pit below her, "Is where many of the heads of our house were burned."

She turned to look at the ashes and bones, and then back towards Haj-deek.

"You are Voryn's child, you say? Well," the woman said, "That is a bold claim, child. I won't believe it until I see your face. Remove your helmet."

Haj-deek obeyed automatically, and lifted her helmet off.

"Well." The woman's face shifted, and a grim smile appeared. "There is no denying it now, is there? You are certainly Voryn's get. And what has my son to say about this?"

My son. So this woman was...her grandmother?

(You have FAMILY!)

"H-he doesn't know." Haj-deek started to kneel, but the woman stopped her with a quick, "No."

"You are a Dagoth, child. You need not kneel."

She took out a pearl from her bag, the last she had, and lay it on the small altar at the pit's side.

"Now tell me, why do you bear a name of the lizards when you are my son's child?"

"My mother--loved him, but...but didn't want to be part of his evil. She fled south and...and birthed me in the Argonian Embassy. They...gave me one of their names, and raised me."

"I see." The woman's gaze narrowed. "And my son? Does he know?"

"I don't know. I don't think so."

"You must make him aware, then."

Haj-deek took a deep breath.

"I always wanted a daughter, but was favored only with sons," the woman's voice grew gentler, "Approach, child."

She took a few steps forward, and the woman lifted her ghostly hands to Haj-deek's face. Morvani studied her for a few more moments, and then lowered her hands again.

"My son is a stubborn thing, he always has been. It is why I chose him to lead our noble House when my end was near. He had the strength and will to lead the others. But then...those cursed Tribunal betrayers convinced the king that Voryn was not to be trusted."

"Vivec wants to fix things now, but--"

"Now?" the woman was suddenly outraged, "That upjumped whore wants to fix things NOW? Now that he has had our House obliterated? Now that there is nothing for him to lose by raising you up again? Where is our justice for what he and his ilk have done? Where is the restitution for the destruction of our House?"

"Vivec," Haj-deek found her mouth suddenly dry, "Seems to think he has already suffered it."

Here she explained what she'd been shown and told, as far as Baar Dau's fall and the Red Year.

"He SHOULD lose his power. He should lose EVERYTHING, for what he's done to us."

"But for him to do that, I would...I would have to kill my father. I would have to..." Haj-deek took a deep and shaky breath. "Every move I could possibly make seems like the wrong one. Other dunmer always say - pray to your ancestors for guidance if you don't know what to do. What should I do, then? I can't kill him, or Vivec for that matter. If either of them dies Baar Dau destroys the city it hangs over and causes Red Mountain to erupt."

(She wanted not to be a pawn in anyone's plan, but the way OUT seemed too impossible to find without some guidance. And even Vivec was vague about what exactly she was meant to do.)

A few tears leaked out, and she didn't even try to stop them. Morvani observed this with an impassive stare, and after thirty seconds or so spoke up. "Stop your crying."

Haj-deek took a deep and shaky breath, and didn't look up.

"You are certain this is the only way?"

She nodded shakily. "Almalexia is...is...unstable, from what Vivec told me. Sotha Sil he's not sure of. If...I think he...might think my father's an easier bet for change than either of the other two despite...despite everything. Despite the corprus, the religion that he's...c...cultivated. If he falls, so does the rest of Morrowind. More than that, I don't know."

Morvani seemed to think.

"And he cannot craft this change himself. He needs you, the chosen of Azura?"

"I'm not the chosen of Azura anymore." Haj-deek gave a weak and weepy laugh. She felt half-put together, unstable, and yet...at least there, she felt more secure about it. The tomb was full of death, but the dead were all her family, and she fit there. "She wants my father dead too."

"Well. I never put much stock in worshipping her," Morvani huffed. "And now I have more reasons. Here's what you're going to do."

Haj-deek looked up.

"First of all - you're going to swear to me, here and now, that you will not harm Voryn Dagoth unless in self defense, and if it comes to that, you will not kill him."

"I--I will swear that. I do swear it." It was hasty, she knew it, but she didn't want to harm him.

"Secondly," and here the woman's tone softened, "You will not let yourself trust too much in the offered friendship of Vivec. He convinced Nerevar that my Voryn wasn't to be trusted and then stabbed him in the back, you should not rush to give him the chance to do it again...Nerevarine or not, he cannot be long trusted."

"I have the ring, so--and I didn't have a choice until now. I..."

"Listen to me, child." Morvani's tone stayed firm, "Voryn is not himself, which means YOU are my best chance to restore House Dagoth. If you are intent on this course of action with Vivec, I am not letting you do it alone. Are you listening?"

"Yes."

"Thirdly. You will tell me why Vivec thinks my son is more changeable. Did he do something?"

"That part I don't know," Haj-deek said, "He...I think he gave me some kind of power, but..."

"But?"

"I'm not supposed to use the words until it's time to speak them." Haj-deek pulled back and turned to the dust on the wall, and traced in it, AE GHARTOK PADHOME CHIM AE ALTADOON. Then she looked back to Morvani. "Vivec said when the time came to use these words...and I don't even know what they do."

The woman studied the words in silence for two or three minutes.

"I've seen mention of this...CHIM...now and then...but never did I think..."

"He apparently learned it from Molag Bal, if the tales are true," Haj-deek said quietly. "And...I get the idea...that it didn't give him what he wanted."

"Of course it didn't. If you want something, you must have a reason for it, or it will never give you what you seek. You cannot get what you can't define. Now--tell me why you want to save your father."

"So I can finally have one," Haj-deek drew herself up a bit, "The argonians did their best, but...I want a family, some people I can point to and say, 'that is my House.' I want what other Dunmer have. If I succeed here..."

"And that is as good a goal as any, with firm purpose." Morvani gave a slight smile. "You will make your journey, and when you come to my boy you will do everything possible to drag him out of whatever darkness has seized him. Do not rely on this supposed power if you don't have to...use it as a last resort."

"That...was the idea. I don't know what this power is...how it will work, if it even WILL work."

"And that is why it is the last resort."

"But how do I persuade him, then?" Haj-deek asked.

"You start by going to him and stating you wish to be acknowledged as his blood; with your face there will be no denying it. You learn about him--I will tell you what I can but I know very little of what he is now."

"And then?"

"You fight. You fight for him - for us," Morvani said, gesturing broadly toward the rest of the room, "For all those of us who can no longer fight for themselves."

A moment of relative silence passed. Haj-deek bowed her head slightly.

"Now, let me see..." The woman's tone shifted again, all brisk and business. "We must give you a name."

"A name? But I have a name."

"You have a name of the lizards, not a proper name fit for the child of a Great House." A smile crossed Morvani's spectral face. "I did always want a daughter...I had many names in mind...but I was only given sons."

A slight pause.

"You swear to spare your father's life, and to do all that you can to restore House Dagoth?"

"I swear," Haj-deek said quickly. "I will spare my father's life and do all that I can to restore House Dagoth."

Damn Azura, she had never done anything but harm to the family. What use was a daedra or a god who did nothing for her supposed favored one? She had already cast Azura aside but somehow this vow made it feel more, well, just more.

"Then I welcome you into my Great House," Morvani said. "Whatever name you go by to the rest of the world - to us you are now Dagoth Sunnar. A blessing come in our darkest hour."

[izzyjofo]

Day eight, sure is great. It really is great, though, because I am in love with how this drawing came out. These two are Dizzy Deeks, who belongs to ~nukanuke, and Jasper Augustus von Albrecht III, who belongs to ~bbbetty.

Man, I need to draw more character interactions, they’re just so fun.

[nuka-nuke]

Andell belongs to @tesjejunus , featuring Dizzy’s Helluva Boss au version simply for the fact that... they’ve both got hooves 

[nukaworldnerd]

totally late for the oc kiss week but it’s never too late for some smooches for the best greaser in the mojave.

@nuka-nuke

[life-is-no-sugarlicking]

OTP-Challenge by @vaultgirl2077: Day 1 - Holding Hands

@nuka-nuke Dizzy and my somehow Courier Lucky. <3

Don’t think i can do every day something but pfftt

[fishplagueart]

Emoji set Kofi Reward for @nuka-nuke of their OC Dizzy!

I had so much fun with these, Dizzy is adorable💖

Thank you so much for the support! Want some custom Fallout Chat style emojis? Visit my kofi page for details

[orionares]

Whumptober: Day 20 (Trunk) & Day 24 (Flashbacks)

----------------------

Whumptober: Day 20- Trunk & Day 24: Flashbacks

NCIS: Los Angeles

--------------------------

October 20th, 1983

Loud, angry voices wake him.

The blonde haired, blue eyed four year old sits straight up in his bed at the sound of something loud and frightening slamming against the wall. Martin Brandel pulls the He-Man blanket sheets up to his eyes and waits for the voices to start up again.

"And who the hell left all the glitter all over the floor?'

Uh- oh.

The child rips off the sheets and with a weathered teddy bear in hand, drops to the floor and crawls underneath the bed. Martin scoots back until his feet touch the cream colored wall. He rests his chin on his hands lying palms down on the floor.

And then waits.

And then waits a bit further until-

-----

Present day Martin- now Investigator Marty Deeks is briefly pulled out of the memory by the tire rod that slides from the deepest part of the trunk into his back. He's also briefly dazed by the pain in his forehead. The cloth jammed into his mouth continues to taste stale and smell an unrecognizable odor that eases his once rumbling stomach. His wrists and ankles are still secured behind him by zip ties.

He's still bound and gagged in the back of a trunk, Deeks concludes. He's still dizzy from the sudden turns and stops from the vehicle and the slowly leaking wound on his lower back.

And then just like that, Marty Deeks dreams again.

---------

October 20th, 1985

"Where's your favorite place in the world?"

It's his homework assignment, a writing prompt on a now crumpled piece of paper. Six year old Martin sits at the kitchen table, legs swinging inches above the floor and chin resting squarely on his left hand. His mother had briefly stepped outside to try and prepare for an incoming drunk version of his father, leaving him to ponder in silence- what is his favorite place in the world?

"Honey?" His mother quickly enters the kitchen with a plastic bag she places on the counter. She kneels in front of him and Martin already knows what she's going to say.

"Can you go to your clubhouse?"

The child nods and slides off the chair. His mother kisses the top of his head before he walks into the hallway and to the backyard. The 'clubhouse' sits in their small backyard in the dog house that had come with the house.

Martin crawls into his clubhouse and lays back onto the sleeping bag his mother had purchased from a local thrift store. Pictures of trains he had cut out of magazines are taped across the ceiling with stars and waves drawings. Snacks are plentiful in a small backpack with a puzzle book and a worn Hardy Boys -Mystery of Smugglers Conrad.

Everything he needs for a long night.

Two hours later, as six year old Martin draws a police car chasing bad guys , he stops suddenly and realizes this clubhouse is his favorite place. It's safe and warm and much better than a trunk-

----------------

Present day Marty's head is whipped back by the sudden stop of the vehicle. In the darkness, he's limited on knowledge of where critical items such as the emergency release latch are.

The vehicle doesn't move, indicating a temporary stop or an arrival to the secondary location.

And secondary location means-

Before the thought finishes, he's out again.

----------

October 20th, 2013

For the third night in a row, Marty Deeks falls asleep on his couch.

Since returning to work after Sidarov, he manages five hours of sleep on average now compared to the days upon days without sleep. However, the only way he can sleep is replaying the phrase, "And then monkeys from the Wizard of Oz show up with guns and there's a shootout," and "It's a love story," over and over again in his head.

The couch is where Kensi settled his mind.

The couch is a safe place. The couch is where sunshine and gunpowder gave him solace.

She is his favorite thing.

-----

Present day Marty suddenly feels solace as a pair of hands hoists his shoulders, body and then legs out of the small confined space. He shouldn't feel this type of solace after being cuffed and thrown in the trunk of a car bleeding unless he's dead or-

“Clear! Callen, talk to me! How is he?”

Marty feels his body rest on a rough surface and he opens his eyes to snow sprinkling from a cloudy sky. Bits and pieces of the case come back to him- the team’s hundred of miles from Los Angeles aiding a search for a missing NCIS agent.

“Deeks, talk to me. What hurts?”

The air is cold and crisp and feels like ice against his skin. It serves a jolt of energy to the Investigator as he whispers through chattering teeth, “Cold….tired...bl-bleeding.”

“Baby!” Kensi exclaims with relief. Strands of her short brown hair peek out from her cream colored cap as she’s kneeling over him. A small cut on her cheek reminds him that he had distracted two shooters long enough for Kensi and Callen to get Special Agent Rio Spencer out of a warehouse and to the team’s SUV.

And allowing himself to be kidnapped.

His wife suddenly presses her body against his, bringing him well wanted warmth. Even as he lies shivering on the cold pavement, there’s something that differs from his four, six and thirty-four year old self.

The darkness doesn’t bring a wave of what-ifs such as-

What if the monster yelling at his mom looks under the bed?

What if his clubhouse isn’t safe anymore?

What if he loses his sunshine and gunpowder and the demons brough by Sidarov return?

This time, he’s only left with relief and comfort that he’s going home where the darkness won't hurt him.

[glenncoco4]

So I was thinking...

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Callen and Sam step through the sliding doors a hint of frustration set in both of their features.

“Do we have anything?” The team leader’s question is directed at Nell but his attention is focused on the big screen.

“No, nothing yet. What about DOJ?”

“Anna said she doesn’t know anything other than who she thinks Kayta’s working with.”

The redhead waits for him to elaborate but he stays silent as he moves in closer, examining some information on the screen. “Care to share?”

“We’re looking for Alyona Kuznetsov and Galina Dorosh.”

Eric begins to type in the information, hoping that his new update helps pinpoint the women’s most likely location.

“Where’s Kensi and Deeks?” Sam asks as he looks around the room finally noticing the absence of their teammates.

Nell’s eyes stay focused on the tablet in her hands, trying to keep her composure. “They’re in the storage room looking for another possible lead from Hetty.”

The ex-Navy SEAL nods, and turns to the newest member of the team who’s aimlessly watching them, just waiting to be told what to do next. “Roundtree, why don’t you go help them.”

“NO!” She doesn’t realize how loud her objection is until it’s already out of her mouth and several pairs of eyes are staring at her. “I mean it’s probably nothing and we could use him to go after another lead so we’re not putting all of our eggs into one basket.”

“Good point.” Sam nods in acceptance, seemingly unperturbed by their boss’s explanation.

“He can go to the Russian consulate with Fatima and do surveillance.”

“Why would we need to do surveillance there when we’re not even sure who all the players are?” Callen questions, frustrated that his plan may be falling a part at the seams.

“Because it looks like our friend Zasha just pulled up.” The tech consultant finishes as he throws a video up on the big screen and the blonde pulling up in her Benz.

“Okay, Roundtree just keep us updated.”

“Got it.” The rookie agent replies as he steps out the sliding doors.

A few seconds later a chime signals an incoming message. Eric’s eyes go wide when he sees the familiar redhead on the screen. “Guys.”

Sam turns his head immediately knowing that what ever it is it can’t be good. “What?”

“Another video was just sent to Anna’s phone.” The tech consultant answers.

Callen tries his best to control his features as things continue to get worse. “Play it.”

20 minutes later...

Checking each other for any out of place clothing or hair, Kensi and Deeks step into the hallway before walking down towards the bullpen, grateful that they were able to have sex undisturbed. Well as undisturbed as a couple can in a storage room at work.

They had made it home after a long day of chasing down rogue Russians yet again. Kensi’s dizziness/nausea had subsided luckily and they were just about to make use of her fertility shot when yet again their phones began to go off. Apparently the Russians were back at it again.

When the partners arrived at the mission Kensi knew Nell could immediately tell that she had interrupted something. But before they could say anything, their kinda boss handed them a key and told them that the storage room in the basement was blocked off from any use and the cameras were out of commission.

“Why do we need this?” The brunette’s brow furrows as her husband takes the silver object.

Nell sends them a nervous smile, hoping she didn’t over step her bounds as their kinda boss and always friend. “I know you’re most fertile right now but we also need you here because something could break at any second. So I’ve set up a “fertile fort” for you two to use.”

Kensi doesn’t think she’s ever been more grateful for this amazing, wonderful and kind woman as she is at this moment. “Nell, are you sure?”

“Positive. Callen and Sam are at the DOJ and should be gone for another half hour, so go before they come back.” 

Deeks doesn’t have to look at his wife to know that they’re going to take this opportunity but before they do, he walks ups to the Interim Operation Manager and wraps his arms around her for a quick hug. “You’re the best boss ever.”

As the partners reach the bullpen, Nell descends from ops swiping at her tablet unaware of anything going on around her.

When she finally looks up as she reaches the first landing, Deeks utters another thanks. They may have just conceived a child and oddly enough the redhead helped make it happen. “Hey, Nell, thanks for covering for us and I think you may have just earned the title of godmother.”

Before anything else can be said both Callen and Sam come in from the courtyard wondering if their teammates have found anything.

Nell quickly covers, hoping that the two men didn’t hear Deeks. “It was a long shot guys.” Her eyes dart to the guys coming up behind them, telling the couple they’re not alone. 

Not seeing any sense of urgency in the group, Callen wonders if they at least found something to go off of. “You two come up empty?”

At his words, Kensi feels the tears begin to form in her eyes. She looks to the leader trying to hold back the sobs that are at the back of her throat. “Why would you say that?”

Sam and Callen’s features form to that of confusion, both clearly lost at what the hell is happening. 

Kensi quickly storms off towards the gym as her husband chases after her. 

The duo looks to Nell, searching for answers but all she can do is offer them a reassuring smile. “She really wanted to find a lead.”

Sam turns to his partner, eyes full of suspicion. “Something’s fishy around here and I’m not talking about Eric’s breath.”

“I can buy and sell you.”

The pair quickly turn around coming face to face with the Steve Jobs look alike, unaware that he had been behind them. Callen looks at his partner and could swear there’s a redness forming on his partner’s face. “Well this just got awkward.”

[ejzah]

A/N: What if Deeks was injured more significantly in “Free Ride”? Let’s explore that question in my Whumptober fic of the year. Ignore any medical inaccuracies.

***

Blunt Force

Kensi raced through the halls, pushing past crew in an effort to reach the man pushing the garbage bin. Sam rushed past her, tackling the guy, and the bin tipped over, Deeks spilling out in a limp heap.

“Oh my god,” she murmured, dropping in front of him. He’d fallen at an awkward angle with legs twisted beneath him and his head tilted to the side. She hovered over him, hesitant to move his head or neck if he had any injuries. Thankfully, she could see his chest rose and fall shallowly, but evenly.

“Deeks. Deeks, can you open your eyes?” Kensi asked, unable to control the shaking in her voice. Carefully, she slipped her left hand under his head and probed the back of his skull, wincing when she felt a prominent bump just below his crown.

“Kensi,” Sam prompted from behind her.

“He’s not responding at all. He needs medical attention.” She smoothed his hair back with the tips of her fingers. It scared her to see him so still.

“I’ll alert the on-board medic and have Eric call in a med-evac,” Sam said, and Kensi nodded without looking at him, completely focused on Deeks.

***

Deeks woke with a pained grimace, instinctively tugging away from something tangled around his arm. Opening his eyes, he squinted against a bright flare of light, and after a few blinks, realized he was in a hospital.

Crap, he must have pissed off a defendant.

Wincing, fumbled at his nose and after a few tries, removed the nasal cannula, instantly feeling better without it scraping the inner tissue. With that out of the way, he took stock of his situation.

His head throbbed worse than the only time he got drunk in college and opening his eyes more than a slit made the pain spike and his stomach clench. He heard the door open, and lazily turned his head towards it, praying that whoever it was wouldn’t turn on a light.

Fortunately, the nurse who entered with a rolling cart of medical equipment kept the lights off and spoke in a low tone as she greeted him.

“Good to see you awake, Mr. Deeks. Let me just check your blood pressure and heart, and I’ll grab your doctor.”

As she placed the stethoscope on his skin, he noted the name tag displayed below her left shoulder.

“Tamara, what happened to me?”

She recorded his heart rate, wrapping a blood pressure cuff around his bicep. She offered him a smile. “I wish I could tell you, but you’ll have to wait for the doctor. You just rest for now.”

“You can’t even tell me how I bumped my head?” he pressed, turning up the charm as much as he could in his current state.

“Sorry, no chance, darling. I’ll come check on you in a little while. Maybe I’ll even bring you some jello.”

“Well, that is my favorite,” he commented with a wan smile. The thought of eating sounded awful right now.

Tamara left, and he leaned back, closing his eyes in a futile attempt to ignore how truly awful he felt. He let his thoughts drift to the last thing he remembered, but all that came to mind was something involving spinach.

The last case he’d worked involved a known drug dealer. No, a DV case. He rubbed his temples as his thoughts and memories ran together in a dizzying, confusing mess.

***

Kensi had been waiting for Deeks to regain consciousness for the better part of a day. He’d been through CAT scans, and MRI, and numerous other tests to ensure he didn’t have serious brain damage. So far they’d all come back with minimal signs of injury, which was a relief, but she wouldn’t breathe easily until he woke up.

She’d spent the morning pretending to read a book one of the nurses gave her—she hadn’t processed a single word of it—and staring at Deeks, silently pleading with him to wake up.

At lunchtime, the lead nurse had convinced Kensi to grab something for herself while she checked on Deeks. Kensi reluctantly agreed, running down to the vending machine rather than the cafe for a pop tart, which she ate cold before heading back to his floor.

As she stepped off the elevator, the nurse flagged her down. Kensi’s stomach sank and she thought she might be sick or faint as she rushed over to her.

“Agent Blye, Detective Deeks is awake,” she said, offering Kensi a smile.

“Oh my god,” Kensi whispered, pressing her hand over her mouth. “Is he ok? Did he say anything?”

“He’s conscious and responsive, but the doctor will need to examine him to know more,” she responded not unkindly. Kensi frowned at the vague answer and the nurse clarified, “It’s good news. Why don’t you go on in. Just remember to be gentle since he’s likely to be sensitive to light and sound.

“Of course. Thank you, Tamara.”

Kensi opened the door stepping into the dimmed room. Deeks turned his head, squinting at her through the slits of his eyes.

“Deeks,” she said, relieved to see him indeed conscious and apparently alert. “I’m so glad you’re awake. How do you feel?” She stopped at the side of his bed, resting a hand on his arm before removing it just as quickly.

He followed the movement with a confused frown. “Hi,” he said, voice throatier than usual. “I’ve been better. Have we met before? My memory’s a little shaky, but I’m pretty sure I’d, uh, remember a gorgeous brunette.”

Tilting her head, she gave him a measuring look, then folded her arms across her chest as she recalled the last time he’d been in a hospital bed. “Deeks, this isn’t funny. Stop messing around.”

“Believe me, I wish I was joking, but I don’t have any idea who you are,” he insisted.

“I’m Kensi. Kensi Blye,” she tried out of desperation. There wasn’t a hint of recognition in his eyes though. He stared back at her with a growing look of dismay, and licked his lips, lifting a hand to drag his hand through his hair before he apparently remembered it wasn’t a good idea.

“Well, this is new,” he muttered to himself. “I guess this explains why I can’t remember what I had for breakfast or my last case.”

He sounded so perfectly like her Deeks, his upper lip quirked in a half-smile as he stared up at her. He was as friendly as ever, but as he would be to a potential witness they met on the strange. Not his partner of three years.

She paced a few steps away, leaning against the nearest wall. “Ok, so what do you remember?”

Leaning his head back, he squinted as though the effort of thinking physically hurt. “Uh, my name is Martin A. Deeks. Most people call me Deeks, but some call me Marty. I am a public defender for the LA county court system and I like to surf,” he said, nodding as he said each point.

Kensi suddenly felt like her knees might give out, and she quickly grabbed onto the back of the chair next to her. Deeks hadn’t just forgotten her, but entire years of his life.

“Are you ok?” he asked, because of course even with a concussion and amnesia, he still picked up on her distress.

“Um yeah.” She awkwardly tugged on the hem of her shirt. How the hell did she break this kind of news to him. She supposed she could let his doctor handle it, but that seemed cruel. Not to mention, cowardly.

“I take it you know something I don’t. What exactly happened to me?”

Kensi inhaled deeply before she took the plunge. “Um, this is going to be difficult, but you were hit in the back of the head.”

“Yeah, I kind of figured that out from the pounding headache and ostrich egg sized bump. What else?”

Suddenly standing felt to impersonal for this conversation, so she pulled the chair up to the side of his bed, sitting on the edge with her hands folded tightly in her lap.

“Deeks, you are not a lawyer. Well, you are, but you don’t practice anymore. You’re a detective with the LAPD,” she told him.

He took the revelation remarkably well, barely showing any reaction other than a slight widening of his eyes and flaring of his nostrils.

“Wow, ok. That’s, uh, that’s unexpected,” he said on a breathy laugh. “What year is it?”

“2012.”

“Crap,” he muttered, rubbing both hands over his face.

Kensi looked away, uncomfortable with his distress. She wanted to comfort him somehow, but they didn’t do that. At least she didn’t. She dealt comfort in stilted words and pulled punches. Besides that, Deeks didn’t remember her.

“So this absolutely isn’t an elaborate scheme?” she checked one more time out of sheer desperation.

“Fraid not,” Deeks drawled, rubbing his chin with his knuckles. “Though that would be significantly more fun than laying in a hospital bed recovering from a concussion. with nothing to go on from the last 6 years.”

“I feel like I should say touché or something.”

He gave her an odd look at that, then huffed another laugh, lowering his eyes to his lap. “I guess you do know me.” He scrutinized her for a few seconds, squinting with obvious effort before he made a pained expression. “Are you a cop too?”

“I’m a federal agent.”

“Based on the fact that you’re talking to me, I’d guess I either did some really bad, or I work with you in some capacity,” he said. Of course his mind worked just as quickly as ever.

“You’re a liaison for my agency,” Kensi told him. “And we’ve been partners for the last three years.”

“Oh.” He blinked a couple times. “That’s unexpected.”

“Why?” It came out a little more defensively than she intended.

“I tend to get on people’s nerves. They say I talk too much, or it’s my hair,” he explained, then added with a touch of bitterness. “Or I don’t know how to leave well-enough alone. I’m a trouble-maker.”

It sounded like he was quoting someone, and Kensi winced a little at the memory of how she and the rest of the team had treated him his first several months.

“Well, it was kind of a rocky start,” she admitted. “But I have a pretty strong personality too.”

“That sounds like a story waiting to be told.” He shifted uncomfortably, squinting again. He looked paler than when she’d walked in.

“Maybe for another day.”

They were both silent for a few minutes, with Deeks looking increasingly less well. Eventually, he sighed, pushing himself up on his forearms.

“Can you help me get up?” he asked.

“I think you should wait until your doctor sees you. You probably have a serious concussion.”

“I want to see what I look like.”

“Don’t you think that can wait?” she said, completely perplexed by the unexpected request.

“Right now I’m working with the Marty Deeks of 2006. A lot could have changed since then,” he explained, shifting around with the obvious intent to get up with or without her help.

Giving a perturbed sigh, Kensi held up a hand before he could try to get out of bed himself. “Let me go ask a nurse if I can borrow one. And don’t even think of leaving that bed.” She gave him a severe look that hopefully had more effect than on an unconcussed Deeks.

It took a few minutes, but with the combination of her badge and the mention of Deeks—who apparently was popular from his previous stays—Kensi returned with a small hand mirror. Fortunately, she found him still in bed when she returned.

He had a small furrow between his eyebrows, his head turned towards the wall. Kensi faltered, once again unsure how to proceed. Last time Deeks was in the hospital, they’d had catching his shooter to focus on. Now, the way forward seemed far more nebulous.

“I’ve got the mirror,” she murmured. His head jerked at her voice, and he ran a hand over his face before turning to face her. She handed him the mirror wordlessly, watching as he positioned it in front of his face.

“Huh.”

“Not what you expected?” she asked, and he shrugged, eyes shifting back and forth.

“I guess I finally ditched the baby face,” he commented wryly. “Or maybe it’s just the beard.” He touched his jaw almost absentmindedly. “That’s going to take some getting used to.”

“Somehow I can’t picture you without a beard,” Kensi admitted. He’d always had some facial hair as long as she’d known him.

“Yeah. Shoulder length hair too.” Now his hand drifted to the matted hair at his cheek. “I’ve had it pretty long most of my life, but I grew it out in college and I keep it out of principal. Or I guess kept.”

His eyes took on that distant look again and Kensi guessed the full weight of the situation had finally hit him.

“Well, you can always grow it out again. If you want.”

He shook his head slightly in response. “I’m not sure it would fit anymore,” he murmured.

“Deeks, I—”

A firm knock on the door interrupted Kensi, though she had no idea what she would have said in an attempt to reassure him.

“Mr. Deeks, I hear you’ve rejoined the waking world,” his attending doctor, Dr. Lesley said. She nodded to Kensi before focusing her attention on Deeks again.

“Yeah. It’s been a wild ride so far,” he responded dryly.

“I’ll let you have a few minutes,” Kensi told him, hurrying out. Maybe she was a coward, but she couldn’t sit through Deeks finding out the full extent of his amnesia.

She headed for a restroom, locking herself inside. In the tiny room, she sank to the ground, and quietly sobbed, mourning the loss of everything she and Deeks had shared.

***

A/N: Part 2 to follow soon.

[densi-mber]

A/N: Takes place post Deeks’ injuries in 10x01, “To Live and Die in Mexico”.

***

A Moment of Weakness

Deeks grabbed a glass from the dishwasher, filing it with water. He was a little embarrassed at how much effort the simple action took. Everything exhausted him right now, but he didn’t feel dizzy or completely nauseas for the first time in days, so he planned to take advantage of the reprieve for however long it lasted.

Slowly, he worked his way through the rest of he dishes, lining everything up on the counter first. After relying on Kensi for everything the last few weeks, it felt good to finally do something.

Kensi walked in just as he slid the last glass into a cabinet.

“Baby, you’re supposed to be resting,” she protested.

“I’m fine. A few dishes aren’t going to kill me,” he said, continuing to sort out knives and forks.

“You don’t have to. I can take care of the dishes, the laundry, and whatever else needs to be cleaned.” She joined him at the counter and pushed the silverware to the side. “Please, go sit down and I’ll get you some lunch.”

“Kens, you’ve been waiting on me hand and foot. You have to be tired. I mean, you barely even had a chance to recover yourself,” Deeks argued, ignoring how heavily he had to lean on the counter to not visibly shake.

“Mine weren’t as bad as yours. C’mon, you don’t want to set yourself back,” Kensi insisted.

All the frustration of the past weeks spilled over, and he snapped. “Oh that ironic coming from you. I seem to remember you falling and gashing your leg in because you tried to walk with half your body paralyzed,” he bit out. He knew it was cruel, but he threw in one last jab. “But sure, I’m the one pushing it.”

Kensi’s mouth opened slightly, her eyebrows narrowed in obvious hurt and shock. In the next moment, her face blanked, the only obvious emotion in the flashing of her eyes.

“Fine.” Her voice shook ever so slightly. “Do it yourself then.”

Pushing past him, she stalked out of the kitchen, and he heard the back door slam a few seconds later.

“Damn it,” Deeks hissed, leaning over the counter. “What is wrong with you, Marty?” As quickly as it hand come, his anger disappeared, replaced by remorse and disgust with himself. His head hung low between his shoulders as he replayed the hurt on Kensi’s face.

He didn’t know if Kensi would even want to hear an apology from him, but he had to try. He found Kensi in the backyard, curled up on the love seat. Deeks walked around to face her, not taking a seat; he hadn’t earned that yet.

“Kens.” She lifted her head from her knees, and the sadness in her eyes made his chest squeeze.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured hoarsely. “I shouldn’t have said that.”

“Why did you?” Kensi asked.

“I was…frustrated with how long my recovery is taking and now useless I feel, but that’s, uh, that’s no excuse. I—”

“I forgive you,” Kensi cut him off.

“What?”

She shrugged, her eye softening with understanding. “I wasn’t the most patient or wonderful to be around after my coma. In fact, I was pretty awful to you.” She patted the spot beside her, waiting until he sat next to her to scoot closer. “Sometimes we say and do things we don’t really mean.”

“I do appreciate everything you’re doing for me and I have no excuse for what I said,” he said, pulling Kensi against his side. “And I promise I won’t say anything like that again.”

“I know you won’t,” Kensi murmured, resting her head on his.

***

A/N: And we have the first angst of the season! Deeks may be a touch OOC here, but pain and injuries, particularly TBIs can bring out unexpected responses.

[abstract-apocalypse]

Not a courier, but how about my King, Dizzy Deeks?!

Well, since Dizzy is a King, Caligula's first thought would definitely be "oh sweet, I love those guys!" They're chill and he digs the aesthetic. He also likes Dizzy's smart ass attitude, since he's a bit of a bastard himself and has made running his mouth sort of his calling-- depending on circumstances they could either be united in sass, or start sniping back and forth.

Tysm for the ask, Dizzy is not only a King in the conventional sense but also a king as in you dropped this king mario holding crown

[chicgeekgirl89]

Afterboom

A/N: I mean...I had to do a post “Mother” fic for Densi. HAD. TO. Also I left the dirty line in there for you so...you’re welcome or I’m sorry. Skipped over all the true dirtiness. That definitely belongs to someone else to write. Enjoy!

                                      XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX

“Oh my god! Oh my god are you okay?!” Kensi couldn’t stop running her hands over his body, searching for any kind of injury. It was impossible that he could be all right after that. It was impossible that they were both still breathing. “Nell, I’ve got him. We’re all right.”

“I’m okay. Baby I’m fine,” he gasped, still pressed flat against the door as she hung up the phone.

“Oh god. Oh my god.” She grabbed his face and pressed her lips to his desperately. “I love you,” she said between kisses. “I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” he said. “Wow. Okay.”

It was a long minute before either of them were able to sit up, both of them shaking as the adrenaline wore off. “Deeks, I really thought—“

“I know, me too.” He barked out a laugh. “That was the freaking coolest thing I’ve ever done in my life and no one is ever going to believe it.”

“I don’t believe it and I lived it,” she said.

“Tell me the truth, you didn’t actually think that was going to work right?”

She shook her head. “It was all I had. I wasn’t leaving without you.”

“You’re so crazy,” he said, pulling her into his chest.

Her phone rang, Sam’s name coming up on the caller ID. Hetty was fine. Everyone was safe.

It was Kensi who stood up first, the reality of truly needing the bathroom finally setting in full force. She reached down a hand to pull Deeks up and he winced as he got to his feet. “You good?” she asked anxiously, worry slamming through her again with dizzying force. “You said you were all right.”

“Yeah, mighta pulled a muscle or two.” He grimaced as he rolled out his shoulders with a loud pop. “Or all of them.”

She turned him around, lifting his shirt to check his back. “You look like you got a bad sunburn back here too.” Her fingers gently caressed the back of his neck. The skin was red but didn’t look much worse than a long day at the beach. “Come on. Let’s get you home.”

“Babe we need to debrief.”

“You’re all done for today,” Kensi said firmly. “Whatever we need to do to wrap this all up can wait until tomorrow.”

“Works for me,” Deeks said.

They were silent as they drove home, both of them trying to process the events of the day. Every time Kensi thought about peeling back the map and finding their wedding picture her heart jumped into overdrive. Without even looking her hand sought Deeks’ and he immediately entwined his fingers with hers, squeezing gently.

This one had been close. Way too close. Yes, death had been on the table in the past, but today had been a whole new level of terror. The thought of leaving him behind, watching the whole building go up in flames with him inside…it was horrible. All the times before had been accidents, catastrophes that she couldn’t do anything about. This time…this time she would have had to live with ‘what if’s’ forever. What if she’d found the picture sooner? What if she’d made him stay with her instead of going off on his own? What if they’d gotten there five minutes earlier, in time for the bomb squad to help? The list was endless and terrifying.

“You hungry?” Kensi asked when they got home.

Deeks shook his head. He looked completely exhausted. “I think I’m just going to shower and get in bed.”

She didn’t blame him. The thought of food wasn’t super appealing to her either. “I’ll take Monty out. Go relax. If you change your mind we’ll order something.”

She took Monty for a quick walk. He deserved a longer one but Kensi felt an urgency to get back to her husband. By the time she returned he was already in bed, the TV providing quiet background noise. She immediately stripped off her clothes, throwing on a pair of sweats and one of his t-shirts and joined him, snuggling up into his side.

“So, wildest day ever?” Deeks asked, his thumb rubbing absent-mindedly up and down her arm.

“God that list is getting so long.” The fact that they even had a list in the first place was troubling in and of itself.

He shifted and grunted in pain. “Your back still hurting?” she asked.

“I’m just sore. It’s fine.”

“Lay down,” she said, moving out of his arms and tapping the bed. “I’ll give you a back rub.”

“Well I won’t say no to that.” He flipped onto his stomach, hands going underneath his chin as she began to knead into his muscles. She was careful to avoid the reddened skin at the nape of his neck and the small of his back where his t-shirt had ridden up during their escape. A thought struck her and she slipped off the bed and into their bathroom. “Where are you going?” Deeks asked.

She came back with a bottle of aloe in hand. “I just want to put something on these burns,” she said, gently rubbing the tender skin. “Feel okay?”

“So good,” he mumbled.

She spent a little longer working on his back before pressing a kiss to his shoulder. “I love you,” she said softly.

He rolled over and stared up at her, reaching a hand up to stroke her face. “I love you so much.”

As his hands found the hem of her t-shirt a part of her wondered if they had “I’m glad you’re not dead sex” a little too often, but a larger part of her desperately needed that closeness to him right now, and she knew he needed it too.

Some time later she traced patterns with her fingers on his chest. “Deeks?”

“Mm?” he said drowsily.

“I um, I might have not been totally honest before.”

His eyes opened fully. “Wait, you mean I haven’t been a very bad boy?”

She smacked him gently. “No I mean…about the kids thing.”

She felt him still. “Oh. Well, that’s okay. It was a tense moment, you were just trying to get us through it.”

“I just…Deeks.” She sat up fully so she could really look at him. “I can’t homeschool them. I don’t know what I was thinking. I hated school. And I have to go to work or I’m going to go out of my mind. So maybe the van thing could be like…summers only?”

He laughed. “I think I can work with that.”

“I definitely meant the other part,” she said, entwining her hands with his. “I want to have kids with you. I’m sure this time. I really, really want that. However it looks.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Me too.” His lips captured hers once and then again, and then he was pushing her back against the pillows, his hand trailing down her thigh.

“Oh you meant like right now?” Kensi said breathlessly.

“I mean I’m ready if you are.”

She looked up at him, his eyes so full of love. He was going to be a great dad. “Yeah. I’m ready.”

[nuka-nuke]

life is very hard when you are just a twitchy little King...