Vengeance: Chapter 39

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This was the first day he had come out to the creek alone and then only because he hadn't had a panic attack over the past two days and Elan had taken his side against George. The two men had grown closer since he'd been back, Elan saddling Sheila without being asked and leading her out to the gate so Deeks didn't have to enter the barn. This morning, he told Elan and George he would saddle her himself and George had worriedly cautioned him against it. Deeks insisted he needed to do it and Elan had backed him up and George had given in when Jim Littleshield refused to take sides. He knew they would all be watching as he made his way to the barn and he tried not to hesitate as he entered.

It was Sheila's whinny that distracted him from getting caught up in the dark memories, but then she kicked the door to her stall and everything came flooding back. He had tried to focus on that sound while Jürgen had slowly choked him that day and the memories of that terrible struggle, the pulsing pain in his ankle and the powerful blow to the base of his spine became vivid as he stood in the hushed confines of the barn. He froze as the harsh memories washed over him, but he felt no panic and no flashback sent him spiraling back into darkness. This time he had just let them pass through his mind and Sheila's second call made him look at her as she tossed her head, anxious to be off and suddenly so was he. He grabbed his hat and shoved it down on his head, smiling at the big mare's antics. He took a deep, measured breath and slowly let it out, feeling as if he had finally reclaimed this place and slightly amazed he was still standing. His mind brushed briefly over the image of Jürgen that still resided in the back of his mind, but his face and his smell seemed more distant now, and he felt no hint of imminent danger. He wasn't stupid enough to push his luck, so he quickly saddled Sheila and urged her out of the barn and past the gate toward the creek.

Boo had come running as soon as he was let out of the house and bounded into the creek without a moment's hesitation, surprising Deeks and easing a laugh out of him. Deeks still watched her carefully, remembering how she'd fallen in when she was little and he'd had to rescue her. This time, she scrambled out on her own, with a stick firmly gripped in her teeth, shaking water all over Deeks as he knelt to take it from her. Both of them settled down against the trunk of the downed cottonwood tree and the wet half-grown Lab immediately climbed into his lap and let out a long sigh before sleep took her. Deeks shook his head as his jeans slowly became soaked with creek water, but he did nothing to disturb the sleeping dog, enjoying how contented she made him feel, almost normal. He pulled the old straw cowboy hat down over his long, unruly hair so it rested low over his eyes and leaned back, listening to Sheila crop the new grass and snort occasionally, while his eyes roamed over the familiar landscape and his mind wandered. Now, as he sat looking at the waving willows along the creek, he felt that old familiar feeling of calm this place had always brought him. Closing his eyes he drifted off to sleep and only started awake when Boo whined softly and scrambled off his lap.

"Want some company?" George's voice called from behind him.

"Did you bring lunch?" he asked, getting to his feet and turning to see all three men riding up.

"You hungry again this soon?" Littleshield asked. "It's only been a couple of hours since breakfast."

"He could use more food, Uncle Jim," Elan laughed. "Look how skinny he is. Kensi probably takes him down without breaking a sweat."

"Stay out of my love life, Elan Hand," Deeks said lightly, his face breaking into a crooked grin.

"The smartass is back," Elan laughed.

George tossed him an apple and he only managed a couple of bites before Sheila tried to take it from his hand. He protested, but not convincingly and soon the big mare was happily finishing it off.

"She's eating for two now," Jim Littleshield said with a smile.

"What?" Deeks asked.

"We bred her last month to a chestnut Morgan I raised," Jim answered.

"Sheila's pregnant?" Deeks was stunned and slowly reached out and gently touched her soft muzzle, causing her to step toward him. "Is it okay for me to be riding her?"

"You can ride her about six more months," he answered. "Don't worry, Marty, you aren't hurting her or the foal."

"When will she have the baby?" Deeks appeared to be mesmerized by the news and his voice softened as he asked questions.

"Next year, late February or early March, depending on if it's a colt or a filly," Jim told him.

"You okay, Marty?" George asked, noticing how quiet Deeks had become.

A brilliant smile lit his face as he continued to stroke Sheila's neck.

"I'm surprised," he said. "First Joe and Diane and now Sheila. It gives me something to look forward to."

George and Elan exchanged guarded looks at his comment, concerned for his state of mind about his future.

"You want to name the foal?" Littleshield asked.

"Really?" he asked eagerly. "I've never named a horse before. What did you name yours, Jim?"

"Red," he answered and saw Deeks look over at Elan.

"Crow," Elan said with a smile and then laughed at the odd look on Deeks' face.

"You named your big black horse after a little bird?" Deeks asked.

"Same color, Cuz," Elan said. "We're riding over to look at a couple of mares. You want to come along."

"No thanks," Deeks said quietly. "I want to let this place sink in a little more before I have to leave."

George seemed to sense the melancholy Deeks was suddenly experiencing and begged off the ride to stay close to him. He watched Deeks as the two men kicked their horses into a gentle lope and headed down the path along the creek. Deeks looked back at him with an embarrassed smile and lowered himself back down to the ground, covering his eyes with his hat.

"You want to talk about what's bothering you, son?" George asked as he walked around the end of the fallen tree and sat down on it.

"I'm not sure I want to go to South Africa," Deeks replied.

"Too hard?" George asked.

"Yeah. Something like that," Deeks answered, his voice barely above a whisper.

They sat silently for a little while, watching Boo until she wore herself out chasing after ground squirrels.

"You never told me about the two little boys," George said easily.

Deeks took the hat off his head, roughly scratching and tousling his thick, blond hair. He sighed deeply and rubbed his face with both hands, finally looking down at them as he draped his arms over his knees.

"Shit," he said quietly.

"If it's too hard for you to talk about, I understand," George said slowly, reaching down to lay his hand on Deeks' shoulder and feeling the slight flinch when he touched him. Deeks glanced up at him, aware of what he had just unwittingly done and he looked confused and angry at the same time.

"Just thinking about that place affects me," Deeks said angrily. "What kind of reaction will I have if I have to actually drive by it? I've been doing pretty good, George. No nightmares for a while, no panic attacks for the last two days and then you touched me while I was thinking about them and that place and I couldn't help myself. I flinched and that pisses me off."

"Tell me about them, Marty," George urged. "Not the place, just the boys. What were they like?"

He was quiet for a bit and then he laughed softly as he wiped his eyes. His first words came out hushed and low and George could tell from the tremor in his voice just how emotional he was getting as he recalled the first time he'd seen the two Sotho boys.

"Thuso's eyes got so big when he saw me," Deeks began. "I'm surprised he didn't pee his pants. I must have looked pretty scary to him. I could tell he was trying to decide what to do about me."

Each sentence was broken by long pauses as Deeks recounted the small boy's actions.

"He was probably seven or eight and skinny," Deeks said wistfully. "He was wearing these bright blue shorts with a red and green tee shirt and I remember that his right knee was skinned. He had the softest voice, but he talked really fast when he was discussing me with his friend Dikobo. His hands would move all around and he would point at me as he talked."

He stopped his story for a while and George didn't push him.

"Dikobo was a little older, taller and stronger too, but Thuso was definitely the leader," Deeks said. "Dikobo was the one who climbed up on the bars of the cell to give me water. It was in an old Coke bottle and it was the first water I'd had in three or four days. His smile was so big when I thanked him. He was so proud of himself..."

Deeks voice trailed off as he choked up at the memory.

"God, George, those two little boys were so brave," he whispered. "They came back all three days to feed me and give me water. I don't think I would have made it without them. Then one of the guards came in and caught them helping me and he started beating on Thuso."

Deeks stopped again and then stood up and George could see how angry he was. He turned toward George and his eyes were stormy and wild as he struggled with his emotions.

"I killed him," he said harshly. "I killed that guard with my bare hands. I couldn't stand watching him hit that little boy, George. I couldn't stand it. I hated him for doing that and I wanted him dead."

His breathing was becoming ragged as tears shone in his eyes and a sudden, terrible look of understanding crossed his features and he grabbed George's arm, gripping it tightly.

"Is that how you felt George?" he asked desperately. "When you killed Jürgen?"

George nodded slightly and Deeks took a step closer and wrapped his arms around him, neither one saying a word, just holding on to one another, each knowing and understanding what the other had done and deepening the bond they shared. When they finally parted, Deeks wiped his eyes and leaned back against the old tree and took a deep breath.

"Will you come with me to South Africa?" he asked. "I have to go and see those two boys, but I don't think I can do it alone."

George nodded again and the two men silently mounted their horses and turned back toward the barn.

...

...

Deeks couldn't wait to get off the plane, pushing against the people in front of him and earning angry stares from some of the passengers. He knew his agitated state was affecting George and it made him even more concerned for the day ahead. The nightmare he'd suffered during the flight had left him afraid to sleep during the remaining seven hours of flight time and now exhaustion tugged at him as he entered the crowded terminal. Only George's firm grip on his shoulder stopped him from rushing outside, desperate for a breath of real air and to rid himself of the claustrophobic feeling that was choking him. He hadn't had a nightmare for over a week and to have one on the plane had shaken his resolve to continue, making him uncertain and shaky. George's comforting hand on his back had gotten him through customs, but he began to sweat as they walked toward the exit and the only thing keeping him moving was the need to be outside in the sun.

"Mr. Atwood?"

"Hello, Mack," George said, dropping his bag and wrapping the young man in a breath stealing hug, leaving the liaison a little shocked, but laughing.

"Hi Mack," Deeks said softly, pleased to see a familiar face.

Mack stared at Deeks before realizing who he was.

"Oh my god, Marty, I didn't recognize you with all that hair," he said, smiling widely and enthusiastically shaking his hand. "You look great."

"Bullshit," Deeks said, suddenly irritable again.

Mack's face fell at the coldness of the rebuke and George stepped between the two men, giving Deeks a warning look and causing him to back down.

"Sorry, Mack. It was a long flight," Deeks said regretfully.

"Sure, Deeks, no problem," Mack said, but still wary of the agent as he turned toward the exit. "I've got a car waiting. Everyone else flew in late last night and will be waiting for us at the ceremony. The whole town will be there to greet you."

Deeks stopped walking and it took a minute before the two men realized he wasn't behind them. George felt his absence and turned to see him struggling with his emotions and hurried back to see what had hit him so hard.

"I don't think I can do this, George," he whispered.

"Let's just get out of the airport, son," George said quietly as he gently put his hand on the back of his neck and guided him through the doors.

Two agents stood guard over the car waiting just outside at the curb and George shot a thankful look at the young liaison as he walked Deeks slowly up to it.

"I thought you might like a decent lunch before we head out," Mack said. "So I have reservations at a little cafe. It's one of the best in Polokwane and we can sit outside under the jacaranda trees. It's very peaceful."

Both men watched Deeks carefully as Mack spoke of his plans, hoping it was the break he needed to calm down and get control of himself.

"Sounds good, Mack," George said. "You didn't eat much on the flight, Marty."

"Yeah, sure," Deeks said as one of the agents opened the back door of the Range Rover. He eyed the men suspiciously, but he got in and tried to control his breathing.

Mack chatted amiably as they drove through the small city and Deeks slowly began to relax when they reached the cafe, which was as peaceful and as good as Mack had promised. Mack told a couple of funny stories about trying to pick up nurses based on the tips Deeks had given him in Germany, even getting a couple of laughs for his efforts. The good food and homey atmosphere calmed Deeks down a little, but George could tell he was still edgy and having second thoughts and he decided to draw him out.

"You want to talk about it, son?" he asked after dessert.

"I don't think I can even put it into words, George," Deeks answered as he nervously twisted his napkin around the fingers of his right hand.

"Thuso and Dikobo are quite excited about seeing you again, Mr. Deeks," Mack said earnestly.

"Why are you calling me that, Mack?" Deeks asked, confused by the young man's formality.

"I don't know, you just seem so different than the last time I saw you," Mack said.

"You mean because I'm not beaten all to shit anymore?" Deeks asked roughly.

"No, because you're acting like a dick," Mack said firmly, his face placid as he spoke.

Deeks stared back at him, trying to control himself but failing. A soft smile began to form at the corners of his mouth and he suddenly burst out laughing, causing people at other tables to stare at him. When he finally stopped, Mack looked surprised and George sat shaking his head as he patted Mack on the arm.

"I couldn't have said it any straighter, boy," George said.

"You're right, Mack. I've been a real prick and I'm sorry," Deeks said. "Call me Marty again, okay? Hetty's the only one who calls me Mr. Deeks."

"You got it, sir," Mack said happily. "Just as long as you don't call me Goofy like Mr. Hanna."

"Deal," Deeks said, before becoming serious again. "Mack, is there another road into the town that doesn't go past the prison where I was held? I'm not sure I can handle seeing it again."

Mack looked stricken by the question, swallowing hard as he looked steadily at Deeks.

"Didn't anybody tell you?" he asked.

"Tell me what?" Deeks asked guardedly in return.

"Marty, the ceremony is being held at the prison," he said.

Deeks was up instantly, turning over his chair as he bolted from the restaurant. George shouted at him, but it was Mack who ran after him, catching up to him only when he stopped to lean against the trunk of a coral tree to try and catch his breath. Mack put a hand on his back and Deeks turned and slammed a fist into his face, knocking him to the ground. He reached down and grabbed the front of his shirt, yanking him to his feet and pushing him into the trunk of the tree, his face flush with rage.

"Why?" Deeks screamed in Mack's face. "Tell me, Mack. Tell me why I was invited. Why did anyone think I would ever want to go back to that fucking place?"

"Marty, stop it," George yelled as he reached them.

Deeks let him go, stumbling blindly away as tears clouded his eyes. George steered him to a bench and he sat down heavily, gasping for air as Mack walked slowly toward him, wiping blood from his busted lip.

"Deeks, listen to me," Mack said as he sat down next to him. "The villagers bought the prison with the money NCIS awarded them. They're turning it into a local marketplace. They want it to benefit all the communities in the area instead of just sitting there as a reminder of the horrible times they lived through. You weren't the only one to suffer in that place, Marty. During apartheid, some of the townspeople watched relatives die in that prison. They know you went through a terrible ordeal there, just like their own people. It's why so many wanted to rescue you."

Deeks turned to look at him, stunned by what he had heard.

"I'm sorry I hit you, Mack," he said quietly as he leaned back against the bench, embarrassed to even look at the earnest young man.

"If you don't want to go there, I'm sure everyone will understand," Mack said sadly. "Thuso and Dikobo will be disappointed, but I'll talk to them and..."

"No," Deeks interrupted him. "No. They were brave enough to help me when I needed it and now I need to be as brave as they were and go back there. I have to tell them what their help meant to me. I need to show them I'm okay. They saved me. Those two little boys and their families, all of them. I remember them cutting me down and carrying me away from that place and..."

His voice failed him and he dropped his head down to his chest as he rubbed the sudden tears from his eyes. George stepped closer to him and put his hands firmly on both of Deeks' shoulders as he collected himself.

"God, I need to thank all of them for that," he finally said.

Mack smiled tentatively as George pulled Deeks to his feet and the three men walked slowly back through the milling crowds of people to the car.

The drive out of the city was mostly spent in silence, except when George asked some question about livestock or water, which Mack answered as best he could. Deeks said nothing, saving his energy and steeling himself to face his deepest fears and darkest memories. He felt chilled as the prison appeared far up the road and he was stunned to realize that he was cradling his right hand tightly against his chest. He slowly let it fall to his lap and took in a couple of shallow breaths as if his ribs were still painful. He expected the place to be as desolate as he remembered, but the closer they got, the more people they saw, walking along the road, either coming or going from the place that haunted his memories. Some were carrying brightly colored buckets and paintbrushes and he saw two men balancing a cell door on a old bicycle as they drove past. There were so many people, Mack decided to park the car and they got out to walk the rest of the way.

"You okay, son?" George asked as they walked.

"I don't know," he answered as a group of laughing children ran past them carrying small brooms.

When they reached the entrance he stopped, placing his hand against the wall, needing to compose himself before going in. Then he saw the rest of the team standing off by themselves on the far side of the inner courtyard and he stood straighter, unwilling for them to see his weakness. George's hand on his back got him moving again and he slowly walked toward Kensi, pleading for her understanding and strength with his eyes. She quickly came toward him and wrapped him in her arms and he felt Sam's strong hand on the back of his neck as they gathered around him.

"Notice anything missing?" Callen asked gently.

Deeks turned to look to where he was pointing, but he saw nothing except groups of people painting and knocking holes in the concrete block walls, creating openings to the cells inside. Most of the bars enclosing the cells were gone and many of the rest were being dismantled. He turned back to question Callen, but then realized what he'd meant and looked back to see three men carrying away the post he had been tied to so tightly. He stumbled back as he felt the panic rising in his chest and his right hand began to throb, his mind instantly filling with the pain of his midnight duel with Jürgen. George knew what was happening and got him quickly over to the wall, easing him down to ground as he struggled to fight what was coming. He panted rapidly as the remembered smell of tobacco sent him spiraling deeper into darkness.

"No, not now, please," he whispered. "Just leave me alone."

He was in his own solitary nightmare, unable to see, unable to breathe or to escape. Then he felt small hands on his face and someone patting his leg and he looked up into the faces of the two little boys who had done so much for him in this place. Thuso's eyes were big with worry as he patted Deek's face. Dikobo was saying something he couldn't understand as he held out a bottle of Coca-Cola.

"Deeks," Thuso said and then patted the hair on his head and smiled.

"Thuso. Dikobo." Warm tears streaked his face as the two boys continued to comfort him. They kept touching his hair and he finally smiled as Thuso began a long monologue as the townspeople gathered around. He had no idea what he was saying, but everyone was respectfully silent as the little boy told his story and Deeks slowly began to come back to himself. Dikobo put the bottle of Coke in his hand and mimed for him to drink and he finally did, the warm taste of something so familiar easing the lump in his throat. When Thuso finished what he had to say, he took Deeks' hand and Dikobo took the other one and they pulled him to his feet, leading him over to a group of women standing by the building.

"Do you remember me, Deeks?" A large woman dressed in brightly colored clothing greeted him with a warm smile. She began to softly hum a lullaby and Deeks' eyes widened as the lost memory returned.

"You took care of me after I was cut down," he managed to choke out.

"We all did," Mosa said as she nodded toward the three other women who stood smiling up at him.

The women began to talk amongst themselves as they surrounded him, touching his arms and chest and closely examining his right hand. One even lifted up the hem of his shirt to look at his stomach, causing him to color slightly and take a step back. The women giggled at that, shushing him as they'd done all those months ago. Kensi came over to stand with him, causing smiles and excited exchanges between the women.

"They've seen you naked, Deeks," she said, causing his blush to deepen.

He took the time to thank each one of the women and had them laughing as he scolded them about seeing him as nature intended. The women were not shy, and continued to admire him and tell him how much better he looked with hair, Mosa doing the translating. He was rescued by Thuso and Dikobo, who took his hands and pulled him away toward the building. He hesitated, but the boys only laughed and pulled harder, Thuso shaking a finger at him, before spreading out his hand toward the place where he'd been imprisoned.

"What's he saying, Mack," Deeks asked as he halted once again.

"He's telling you about his plans," Mack answered. "He wants to sell Coca-Cola from a booth here."

"You're kidding," Deeks said.

"I don't think that should be too hard to arrange, Mr. Deeks," Hetty said as she came to stand next to him. "I know some people."

"I'm sure you do, Hetty," Deeks said, smiling back at her as Thuso and Dikobo pulled him inside.

The bars he had been bound to were still in place and an uncontrollable shiver ran through his body. He could feel the presence of the team and the townspeople around him and knew George was speaking to him, but the sudden roaring in his ears blotted out the words and he stood rooted in place, a few feet from the horror that was now a part of him. He stared blankly at the bars until Thuso and Dikobo climbed up on them and looked solemnly back at him. Thuso patted him gently on the arm and spoke softly to him, while Dikobo's small hand briefly touched his hair and then rested on his shoulder. The understanding on their faces isolated the three of them from the crowd around them. Only they knew what it had been like for him those three, long days.

The bond they shared was deep and his feelings for them could never be expressed, knowing he would never have survived without them. As he looked into their eyes now, he realized just how much he had desperately counted on seeing their faces during that terrorizing time and feeling that small glimmer of hope they brought along with the water and the food. Their kindness had made it possible for him to endure everything Jürgen did to him. They had kept him from complete despair those first few days and he didn't know how to repay them for that and knew he probably never could. He didn't want to remember this place for the pain he'd suffered, but for the two small boys who had disregarded the danger and showed compassion to a stranger. Their exuberant spirit had brightened the darkness that shrouded this place and he thought it was fitting that they should be the ones who would change this evil place and make it into something good.

He slowly wrapped his arms around them and held them close, unable to say anything more than an inadequate thank you.

"Deeks. You are good now," Thuso stated with a huge smile.

He laughed as the boys hugged him tightly, marveling at the conviction in Thuso's young voice and holding on to his pronouncement as a truth that would allow him to move on to the next chapter in his life.

...

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My heartfelt thanks to all who have joined me on this journey and to those who sent kind words and generous comments and encouragement along the way. I appreciated every review written, whether long or short and I read every one with joy and with amazement at your insight. That you accepted and came to care about the original characters in this story has touched me and I join Deeks in saying an inadequate thank you.