Deeks was bundled into an SUV, his mouth gagged and a bag put over his head and his hands tied behind his back. He had no idea where he was going and his mind was racing at a thousand miles an hour.
Jen said she hadn't seen their father in years, but he had recognized her as she ran out, why had he not taken her too? He was glad she hadn't been taken but he did hope that she hadn't been hurt; he didn't think he could live with himself if anyone had been hurt because of his actions.
He was a federal agent now, he had signed the forms, LAPD was in his past and Hetty had thought he was good enough to join the team on a permanent basis so he must be worth something, but despite that he was shaking, he was terrified at the thought of having to face his father again after all these years. He was scared of his anger at his father, because he had left him in his dead mother's arms lying on that front lawn of his old house in Reseda he brain matter splattered all over his eleven year old face. He was scared he would lash out and hurt his father or worse turn into the monster his father had become. He was angry at himself because as scared as he was he felt the small child inside himself jump with excitement because maybe his father had changed and wanted him, maybe he would be proud of his son. He quickly dismissed that thought but inside himself the small boy that was hidden was challenging him you want him to love you….and you can't kill him because he's your father and deep down you love him.
He was at that moment really glad he was wearing a hood and no one could see him cry.
'You are a Deeks and Jeff Deeks is the man you think of as your father, he is proud of you, not this monster….you are NOT a Brandel, you can stand up to him and YOU can bring him to justice.' He scolded himself.
Inside his head he could see the four year old holding a freshly cleaned gun in his tiny outstretched hands smiling at his father as his father patted his son on the head and told the other men in the room how proud he was of the boy.
"See Daddy I did it all by myself." Four year old Martin Brandel said proudly.
Gordon patted his son on the head, "You did good son, so you can go see your mother."
Smiling Martin walked along the corridor with the loaded gun in his hand and handed it to the man standing outside his mother's room; she hadn't been well, his father said as she only came out of her room when one of his father friends helped him. The man opened the door and a young woman sat tired and slightly spaced out in the middle of a big bed.
"Marty baby!" she smiled her eyes not entirely focusing on her son, Marty ran to the bed and climbed up and into his mother's lap.
"Momma, I did good for Daddy today." Marty smiled hugging his mother.
Ally Johnson carefully brushed her son's wavy blond hair behind his ear and kissed the large bruise that was covering his cheek where his father had beaten him a few days ago. Her blue eyes locking on her son's identical ones, she dropped a small kiss on his head and held him as he snuggled into her arms.
"That's my good boy." She smiled, she lay back on the headboard of her bed and grabbed the book of stories she had been reading to her son, his favorite was Thomas the Tank Engine and she read him the same stories over and over again, he lay happy in his mothers' arms for hours until the sun started to go down and the door opened.
"NO!" Ally said holding Marty tight.
"It's time for you to earn your keep, now you want the boy to watch?" the man at the door said.
Tears flowing freely she gently lifted her sleeping son off the bed, "Momma?" his sleepy voice called.
"It's ok baby, I'll see you again soon?" she said her voice shaking.
