To Journey Alone

Checkmate

Time to think was the last thing NCIS Special Agent Marty Deeks needed right now, but was all he had today.  Sitting on his green couch that resembled something right out of the seventies, he stared blankly at the neutral-toned walls that surrounded him in his darkened living room.  Yesterday he had buried one of his closest friends and fellow agents, clearly one of the most difficult days of his career as an NCIS agent, and now he was faced with navigating the guilt of losing an agent whose life was his responsibility. 

Countless friends and colleagues had tried to encourage the young, shaggy-headed federal agent to grieve; that loss was a part of being a clandestine federal agent and a risk that each member at the Office of Special Projects embraced when they accepted their appointment as federal agents.  Deeks knew this deep down, but it did nothing to assuage the deep-seated guilt over Clay's untimely death.  At some point, Deeks needed to shut everyone and everything out of his life in order to come to terms with it all. 

Throughout the long day, Marty's phone chirped, rang, and buzzed near constantly as his friends and colleagues expressed worried thoughts and concerns over his mentation.  He was new to this role as a field team leader and now, more than ever, he regretted ever agreeing to such an appointment.  Deeks always worked alone as an undercover detective with LAPD before defecting to NCIS and while he enjoyed being part of a team, it was times like this that he wished he had shredded that damned folder Hetty kept locked away in her desk instead of signing it. 

A slight noise caught the shaggy agent's attention instantly, triggering his instincts as he reached for his nearby sidearm and silently quick-stepped to the doorway leading to the kitchen; firearm at the ready.  Several feet beyond his position, he glanced quickly around the corner and noted a slight, stealthy form creeping provocatively through his kitchen, weapon in hand.  Debating whether or not to tell the idiot skulking around in his house he was a federal agent and to drop his weapon, Deeks chose to remain silent and unseen; allowing the intruder to come to him before pouncing.  Quickly opting to subdue his would-be assailant bare-handed, Deeks holstered his weapon behind his back and settled into a deep crouch in the shadows and waited. 

"Never a good idea to holster that, Deeks."  The soft, lilting voice of Special Agent Jana MacBride purred. 

Whirling around one hundred eighty degrees on his own low center of gravity, the scruffy federal agent jumped like a scalded cat, sending a few small trinkets flying out in several directions; angry, startled expletives exploding into the darkened room.  Sitting cross-legged in one of his overstuffed chairs sat the nonplussed agent that had just snatched five more years of her best friend's life from him.  Jana's expression was an amused one colored with overtones of deep sadness and concern for Deeks' well-being. 

"Damn it MacBride!!!"  Deeks hollered hotly.  "How in the hell did you go from frontal attack to sneaking up from behind without me seeing it?!  And I want the five years your skulking just cost me back!" 

"Breathe and come over here, big brother."  Jana laughed.  "You owe me something."

Deeks smiled slightly as he rose to his full stature and closed the distance between the two in quick stutter steps before swallowing up the small agent into his powerful embrace. 

"Stop blaming yourself, Deeks."  Jana whispered after a few moments in her dear friend's arms.  "No one blames you for Clay's death, least of all me, so please stop wallowing in self-pity and call Kensi before she storms the Bastille single-handed.  Sitting here in the dark isn't helping me find the son-of-a-bitch that murdered Barringer."

"His life was my responsibility, MacBride."  Deeks choked out.  "I failed him and everyone else miserably."

"That's not how I see it, Deeks."  Jana said softly.  "We work in a violent world and see the most ugly things no human should ever have to see...ever.  Our purpose is to guard and protect the innocent and sometimes we have to step up and make the ultimate sacrifice.  That's what Clay did to protect the helpless after the attack at Pershing Square.  Any one of us would have done same thing.  Now we have to finish it and put an end to his killers."