Prompt: Can you write a fanfic of what would've happened if Deeks died in the season 4/season 5 premiere from the torture he sustained and everybody would be left grief stricken. Kensi would be heartbroken, Sam would be guilt-ridden for doubting him and Callen's guilt over being indirectly responsible.
A/N: I truly did cry a few times while writing this part, which is probably part of the reason it took several days to finish.
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You Cried For Help and I Walked Away, Part 5
Kensi rode with Deeks to the hospital. Tucked into the corner of the ambulance, Kensi had felt completely helpless only able to watch as the paramedics did everything they could to save his life.
They’d wheeled Deeks back before she could say or do anything else, his face obscured by a breathing mask, leads and wires covering his chest. That had been an intolerable thirty seven minutes ago. Kensi stood in the middle of the hall, the wallet a nurse had hastily brought to her cradled in her hands; it reminded her of the first time Deeks had been in this hospital years ago.
Her phone buzzed in her pocket with the next of a few dozen texts, but Kensi ignored it just like the others.
Tipping her head back, Kensi closed her eyes. How had everything gone wrong so quickly?
“Agent Blye?”
Kensi’s snapped open and she took a step towards the nurse standing in front of her. Before the man even said a word, Kensi saw the look of regret and sympathy in his eyes.
“No.” She shook her head. This couldn’t be it. It was too fast. They didn’t have enough time.
“I’m sorry, Agent Blye,” he said quietly. “We tried every intervention we could. The doctor believe Detective Deeks may have suffered an aneurysm as a result of his previous injuries.”
Kensi barely processed the information, her entire body frozen with shock and disbelief.
“Can I call someone for you?” the nurse asked.
“I need to see him,” Kensi managed hoarsely. “Please.”
“Of course.” He led her through to a cubicle, and closed the thin curtain, giving the illusion of privacy.
It only took a few more steps to reach the bed in the center of the bed when’re Deeks laid. All the medical devices were gone, a sheet pulled up to Deeks’ chest, and his face was turned to the side. Someone had even cleaned his hair so it curled softly around his face. Kensi could almost convince herself he was merely asleep. If it weren’t for the utter stillness. Deeks was always moving.
A wave of grief hit her.
Leaning against the bed, Kensi curled her fingers around his limp hand and clasped it to her chest.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, brushing her thumb across his cool cheek. “I shouldn’t have let you come.” Tears welled up in her eyes, and for once, she didn’t try to stop them. “I’m sorry I left.” Leaning down, she kissed him softly, and closed her eyes. She imagined his laugh, his smile, the sound of his voice when he teased her. “I love you, Deeks. I wish I’d said it sooner.”











