Author's Note:Okay, here goes my third story, this time NCIS: L.A. I was inspired by the story of another author, sillymissy98 who wrote "Deeks is a teen and in trouble". I very much enjoyed the idea of, I guess title says it, Deeks as a teenager while the others are in the original time line. Therefore, special thanks to sillymissy98 because I want to write something similar now, so thanks for the inspiration, but... of course, I wanna twist it some other way to make it my own.

Summary: What starts off as a normal day of work might change the life of one team member forever. It's a twist of fate when teenager Marty Deeks is brought to them as a murder suspect, but this teenager may be more, much more than meets the eye. What will happen to the team? What to Marty? Read to find out ;) Contains rape, child abuse, violence etc. (not always explicit).

* some fixes done for this chapter - the vocab mistake is fixed now. Thanks for pointing it out. My dictionary gave me the wrong term.

Reviews are more than welcome, as is any reader^^

Read, review and hopefully enjoy;)

Kensi Blye walks up to her boss G Callen at the bullpen of the Los Angeles Naval Crime Investigate Service.

"Hey Callen," the brunette woman waves at him, flashing a warm smile.

"Hey, what's up?" he greets her.

"Hetty wants to see us. I think we got a new case... and if she tells me to order you...," Kensi informs him with a smirk.

"It's urgent," Callen nods. When Hetty calls, you better jumped already. That is the first lesson you learn when you meet that woman.

"Got that right," Kensi snickers. Callen parks his bag on his desk before the two walk into OPS where they are greeted by the rest of the team.

"Ms. Blye, Mr. Callen, I see you decided to finally join us?" Hetty greets them with her signature smirk.

"In fact," Callen shrugs.

"So now, Mr. Beale, if you would be so kind?" Hetty nods at the screen. Eric is already at his feet (so much about how you jump when Hetty calls) and starts with his presentation, "Okay, guys. We got a dead Marine."

"Lieutenant Commander Bryan Carter. He was found dead in an alley on the outskirt of town. He has a stab wound which, as far as autopsy goes, was not fatal, but the two gunshot wounds to the chest," Nell adds.

"He was seen in the diner on the other side of the road having a coffee, but he doesn't seem to be a regular client," Eric informs, showing the footage on-screen.

"So he may have waited for a meeting," Sam nods.

"What do we know about him?" Callen asks, arms crossed over his chest.

"Nothing much that is spectacular, so to speak. He has a wife... a clean file. Nothing that would speak for an enemy," Nell informs him.

"But... we got a suspect," Eric says. The agents look at the analyst with huge eyes.

"Why didn't you say that right away?" Callen exclaims.

"Because it's a very sensitive matter, so to speak, Mr. Callen," Hetty provides.

"Why's that, Hetty?" Kensi frowns.

"Mr. Beale?" Hetty nods at the analyst. Eric switches on one of the screens with a video of the boatshed, where they interrogate suspects...

"That's a kid!" Sam exclaims. All stare at the screen with wide eyes. Where normally criminals and terrorists take their seat, sits a cuffed boy with blond shaggy hair falling into his eyes, worn clothes, pale. In his spot, one can't even tell the color of his eyes. Yet, the boy can't be older than sixteen. What is he doing in that interrogation room?!

"What is this about?" Callen asks, regaining his composure, though he is still shocked at the news.

"He was found down that alley cowering behind the dumpsters... he was over with blood that was identified as Carter's... and he had a knife in his pocket which was also over with blood," Nell replies with growing discomfort.

"And the shotgun?" Sam asks.

"They didn't find it yet," Eric grimaces.

"But why would he keep the knife and get rid of the gun? I mean...," Sam frowns.

"They are still going through the trash, maybe they'll find it. And judging by the looks...," Eric informs.

"... judging by the looks he's living in the streets... and then you need a knife... even more than you need a gun, if only for the more practical reasons of cutting things," Kensi suggests, speaking from experience.

"What does he say about it?" Callen nods at the screen.

"Nothing," Hetty shrugs.

"Nothing? What do you mean, nothing?" Callen knits his eyebrows.

"He didn't talk ever since they took him into custody. We are running facial scans, but... if he lives out in the streets for long enough, chances are low we actually get a hit. Would be best if you got the little one talking," Nell explains.

"Okay... did he fight back when they got him?" Callen asks.

"No, I guess he was still in shock by the time. He wasn't even running away when they arrived, after all," Eric shrugs.

"Good, okay... who took him?" Callen questions.

"What?" Nell makes a face. What does it matter?

"Who took him? Names," the Senior Agent gesticulates. They don't have the time to fool around.

"Why?" Eric blinks at him.

"Just tell me the names," Callen rolls his eyes.

"Jennings and Sanders," Eric provides after a quick glance at the records.

"Then you'll interrogate him for starters, Kensi," the team leader orders.

"Any certain reason why you want me to do it?" Kensi questions. She knows that G usually wants to go first when there is such a... weird... case.

"He's only been with men. Maybe they intimidate him. It's at least worth giving a shot," he suggests.

Kensi nods, "Good thinking. Then you come in once you think it's time."

"Good," he agrees.

"I'll go to the scene another time," Sam offers.

"Yeah, good, thanks," Callen winks. With that the three agents leave the OPS.

In the boatshed:

"Okay, I'll give you a sign when I think it's okay you come in," Kensi suggests. Callen grabs into his pocket and retrieves an energy bar and a chocolate bar he hands to her.

"What? You feed me?" she snickers.

"No, you feed him. May buy you his trust... and that guy probably didn't have much food recently. Let's be nice to him, for starters," he argues with a smirk.

"Okay. I'm going in," Kensi claps her hands together as she makes her way inside. Callen takes his stance in front of the screen. As Kensi comes in, the teenager looks at the noise of the door opening once, but then keeps on staring at the opposing wall, his eyes never averting – and for all its worth very, very strong.

"Hi," Kensi greets politely. She smiles at him sweetly as she settles down, loosely folding her hands on the table. The kid says nothing, though. Kensi has to try hard not to swallow at the blood spatters still over his face – and he didn't even try to wipe them away, as she can see the droplets that haven't been touched still on his head and most of his clothes and torso. It just looks so wrong on a boy to have so much blood on him. His baby blue eyes are beautiful, absolutely stunning, breathtaking, but just now... totally dead, blank, wiped clean. That is something Kensi only vaguely remembers from soldiers who came back changed. So what did that kid go through to earn himself such empty eyes?

"I'm Kensi. Who are you?" she asks sweetly. The kid says nothing.

"Okay. I know this must be really confusing for you now. Do you know where you are?" Kensi asks tentatively. The kid says nothing again.

"You are at the Naval Crime Investigate Service, NCIS. I'm Junior Agent for this organization," she explains, showing her badge. The kid says nothing.

"Do you understand why you are with us and not the police?" Kensi asks, but still, the kid won't respond. This will be one pain in the ass.

"Okay, uhm... can you at least give me a sign that you understand what I'm saying? If not I'll have to call in a translator," Kensi exhales. At that comment, he actually nods his head. Kensi has to try hard not to jump up from her seat at the little success.

"So you do understand me? Or do you have trouble hearing?" Kensi asks hastily. He nods his head, then shakes it. After that he goes back to stoicism.

"Great. So since you understand me... you just don't want to talk to me, that it?" she smirks. The kids nods again, and there's the hint of a grin, if only just a hint, soon overcome by darkness again, though.

"Okay, so maybe we can arrange ourselves to you nodding and shaking your head?" Kensi suggests. The teenager shrugs. Yeah, this is not going to be fun.

"Is that a 'yes'?" she wants to make sure. The kid shrugs once again. Perhaps this is a 'maybe'?

"I get it that you may not like it, but it would be really good if you talked to me. It doesn't have to be about anything specific yet. It's just that it will get hard to cooperate with you if you don't talk to me," Kensi negotiates. But he looks away again, through her, just as though she isn't even there. He doesn't even have to say 'no' to make his disagreement clear.

"Alright... maybe something else. I think you're a smart kid if you survive on the street that long... so...," she holds out the energy bar and places it on the table in front of her.

"You can have that if you want... but... for that I wanna hear something from you. Anything. Your name, your age... something about yourself," Kensi bargains with a smirk. But he draws away, again. Kensi lets out a sigh. He is smarter than she thought. She lived in the streets for a year – and she knows how far some of the hungry kids go to get their hands on such a thing, but he is smart enough not to. And it takes a lot, given that he probably rarely gets to eat at all. She exhales as she puts out the chocolate bar and places it right next to the energy bar.

"Maybe that's more your thing? C'mon, I bet you dig chocolate," she wiggles her eyebrows at him, but the kid remains in his seat, almost motionless, looking like a broken rag doll.

"I used to live in the streets myself, for about a year, you know?" Kensi admits, figuring that maybe that will break the ice, once he sees they share a common ground. The kid says nothing, though, just stares into nothingness. He just withdraws to a place she can't follow him to, as it seems.

"And I know it is hard and... you do some things you would rather not do, but... you don't have to be afraid, you can talk to me about this," Kensi offers in a soothing voice. The kid withdraws further rand further with his eyes. Whatever place he can see with those... it must be damn good escape.

"I know I would've done anything for one of these. I'd still do. I totally dig chocolate," she tries again, clutching at the remaining straws. But the silence wins. He is some place far off and he won't let her in. Kensi can't say when exactly she lost him, but he suddenly withdrew. They sit there for a long while, but he doesn't break, at all. The junior agent interrogated grown men who broke after a lot shorter time of silence. Silence is one of the most efficient means, really. Still, this kid won't budge. Kensi lets out a sigh as she gets up.

"I'll be back in a bit," she informs him as she gets up. Kensi goes outside to Callen who has watched all of it over the camera.

"Whatcha think?" she asks with a sigh.

"Well, he's not as rebuffing as I pictured," Callen shrugs.

"What? He refuses to talk to me," Kensi argues, almost exasperated. Did Callen watch this conversation or did he just switch to the Lakers game in the meantime.

"But not in a 'mean' way. He just refuses to talk. He is not aggressive in any way," Callen returns, to which she has to agree, "That's true, of course."

"He tries to appear as though he is sitting there not tensed at all, but... his muscles are tensed. He is nervous but tries to hide that, quite desperately," Callen grimaces.

"But why? I mean, I tried to comfort him, but... it makes no difference to him, as far as I can see," Kensi mutters.

"Well, we don't know what happened. Perhaps he is still in shock," Callen suggest mindfully.

"No shaking," Kensi argues. If he were in shock, he'd show more physical symptoms, like a tremor.

"Doesn't mean he is not be traumatized by what he saw or did," Callen argues.

"True," she nods.

"But he is really good at keeping it up, I must give him that," Callen grins, almost impressed.

"Thought so, too. Most can't handle the silent treatment for long, but he pulls it off," Kensi agrees. There is a moment of silence.

"Well, I don't know what to make of him at some point. He seems... likable, you know? I bet he has a nice smile," she sighs after a while.

"Yeah, with you on that one... but that is not the only criterion, sadly," Callen grimaces.

"I know," she exhales. Sometimes she really wished that would count, too.

"... but one thing I gotta give him... he seems to be upstanding in his own way," G grins.

"What do you mean?" Kensi knits her eyebrows at the comment.

"Well, I know you left the bars there for him to take. Look at the screen," he nods ahead. Kensi looks at display, and the boy didn't even attempt to touch them. She asks, "So what do you think?"

"That he must've learned those rules of proper behavior before and still remembers them. So is not that he lives out there for all his life," Callen shrugs.

"Yeah...," she sighs. Probably another broken family. It's just so sad at times: "So... so you go in now, too?"

"Yeah, I think so. I think he actually wanted to respond to you when you said that you used to be out in the streets yourself. His mimic changed, even if just slightly. Maybe if I start on foster homes we get him to talk. Coz that's the most important thing for now," Callen suggests, to which she agrees.

"Then you go in first, I come in in a short bit," Callen says, to which Kensi nods, "Okay."

Kensi walks back inside, putting on her smiley-face again as she settles back down.

"I see you didn't take my stuff... okay, well, that speaks for good manners. For that...," she slides the chocolate bar over to him. "Without having to say a thing... you can eat it, no poison in it, I promise."

She winks at him. The boy actually takes it, but rather stuffs it into his pocket.

"Or you save it for later. Smart," Kensi shrugs with a smirk. He shrugs back at her.

"Is there someone we're supposed to call?" she asks tentatively. He shakes his head, with a bit more vehemence.

"Okay...," she sighs. That is the moment Callen makes his appearance.

"Hi, I'm Agent G Callen," he introduces himself as he sits down next to Kensi. The kid nods lazily.

"So now... We found blood on you that matches a man by name Bryan Carter. That man is dead now... and we just got a report that confirmed that the knife you had has his blood on it the same way. So now... you either give us something to work with, or it's looking really bad for you," Callen threatens. Kensi has to try hard to keep her face straight. She would actually like to nudge him into the side for being that harsh with the boy. He is obviously shocked, still. Good cop bad cop on a teenager in shock? Not so nice. Plus, the plan was another one last time she checked!

"Given that you are underage, you may sit in for ten to twenty years, actually. You get me? Ten or more years of being stuck in a tiny room with a violent roommate who's gonna take the upper bed though he's too heavy for it, with scum who did probably worse than you did, and some of the guard in there are worse than dirty cops, you get me? So you really want that?" Callen threatens. That is when the boy speaks up for the first time, "You really think you scare me with that?"

His eyes do not meet Callen's, venom clear even through the raw voice he has.

"You don't think this is scary?" Callen questions.

"Place with regular food, heating, and a roof? Sounds like the damn Ritz," the boy snorts.

"You'll think about that differently once you're there, kid," Callen shakes his head.

"I wouldn't be too convinced of that," the boy exhales.

"I would be if I were you," Callen argues.

"You should thank whatever deity you believe in that you are not me," the teenager retorts in a growl, sadness tugging at his voice.

"It remains the same, kid. Bad stuff will happen if you don't start to cooperate with us. You only make it worse for you. If you talk to us now and give us all the information I can guarantee you that we will try to put in a good word for you, but that only works if you cooperate," Callen insists.

"I don't care whether you do me that little favor," the teenager snorts.

"You will mind if it's about the duration of your stay in prison," Callen threatens.

"Longer or shorter while in the Ritz? There's hardly any harm in that. I dig surprises," the teenager snickers darkly, his cuffs clicking at the movement.

"Let's leave the crap aside, shall we? I see you are smart and you understand what's going on, so I hope you understand your situation. Given you do, why aren't we just trying to be honest to each other? Why don't you just tell us what was going on so we can help you?" Callen questions, but that is when the boy starts to yell at them with force neither one expected to come from that frail body: "You can't help me!"

"Why? Listen, kid, we...," Callen tries to say, but the boy intervenes atop of his voice, "I killed him – so no way you help me, okay?! I fuckin' killed this dipshit!"

"So you admit the murder?" Callen questions, his face straight.

"Yeah, I admit the fuckin' murder! Bring me the godforsaken form and I sign it, whatever you want!" the teenager curses.

"So you admit that you killed him?" Callen asks, his face still calm.

"Yeah, I stabbed him! Goddamn! I killed him! Stabbed him! Gimme the form to confirm it, then this is finally over! I killed him!" the teenager curses through gritted teeth, suddenly looking more like an animal than a teenager. His eyes glimmer with fury.

"You admit that you stabbed him," Callen repeats.

"Yeah! For god's sake! I already said it! I stabbed him! Isn't that enough now?! Don't you have what you want!?" the boy cries out angrily.

"You admit that you killed him by stabbing him?" Callen asks another time. This time the boy really screams, "Yes!"

"Then... we know you didn't do it," Callen proclaims. The boy stares daggers at him, "What? I stabbed him! I killed him! The fuck!"

"Kid, Carter died from two gunshot wounds, the stab wound was not fatal," Callen explains. That is why he decided to push on it. The teenager stabbed him, but he didn't shoot him. The teenager just admitted it.

"Fine, then I shot him, too! Forgot to mention that," the boy mutters, though his voice is quivering.

"No, you didn't know about this, kid. I asked you three times. You admitted that you stabbed him," Callen explains.

"I admitted that I killed him! What does it matter how I did it? Two more years for handling a gun, who cares?! Just gimme the sheet I'm supposed to sign and I'm off!" the teenager growls.

"You didn't do it. We can only charge you for battery of a Marine, if at all," Kensi assures.

"Do I get less for stabbing a non-Marine?" the boy frowns.

"What? No," Callen knits his eyebrows at that. Where did that comment come from?

"Then why do you stress that it's been a Marine? Just coz you're from NCIS and not just CIS only matters that it's Marines?" the teenager questions.

"No, kid, that's not it. But I don't get it what a Marine does in that alley if he's got a wife at home, house...," Callen explains, but the boy interrupts him angrily, "Coz Marines are infallible, that it?"

"Kid, I don't judge. I'm just trying to wrap my head around this," Callen tries to calm him, but the boy only gets madder with every second passing, "My word against the name of a dead Marine. I think the Marine wins. No, I know the Marine wins!"

"This is not about who wins or not, kid," Callen shakes his head.

"It always is!" the teen exclaims.

"What did you have to to do with Carter? What did he do?" Callen questions. The teenager suddenly hesitates, as his eyes focus on Kensi.

"I say nothing in front of her," he nods at Kensi.

"Kensi?" Callen turns to the Junior Agent.

"What?" she asks with a frown.

"Would you leave us two alone?" G glances at her.

"But...," she means to argue, but Callen interrupts her curtly, "Thanks."

"Okay," Kensi shrugs, getting up to leave the room. She knows better than to undermine her partner's authority in an interrogation. She leaves the room.

"So now she's outside, we're under men. What is it with Carter? What did he do?" Callen asks.

"What's it to you?" the boy counters dismissively.

"You accuse him of something... and for that I gotta know what it is. How else would I learn the truth, you tell me? That's the way the game goes," Callen explains, but the teenager only gets madder, "Game? This ain't a game! But fine, let's pretend it is! Then let's try it for starters and call it let's-see-when-the-cop-doesn't-trust-you-anymore!"

"... okay, I'm in," Callen nods.

"We didn't meet by accident," the teenager states, his eyes not leaving Callen's for only just a moment.

"Alright," Callen replies.

"He was the one to bring me there," the boy continues.

"... okay," Callen goes with it.

"That guy paid for few rounds of teenage ass and got more than he bargained for," the teenager says with a straight face. Callen can only gape at that. That was the last thing he ever expected, "You, you mean that he... he paid you for sex?"

"Are you guys shittin' me or what's the matter?! As if he'd just pay me! Course he got me from the catalog. Blond and blue eyes sell like hell!" the teenager snorts.

"You... uhm... this was...," Callen grimaces, still trying to regain his composure.

"Not deliberate. I was forced by my handler – and your dear Marine-Boy thought no better than hunt young teenage ass to ride on, after all, that was the bargain," the teenager hisses.

"Y... You, you are in a sex ring?" Callen brings out.

"No, there's just this catalog you can order... don't come to have one on me. Maybe I should ask my handler for a few copies to pass around as advertisement," the boy snorts dismissively.

"Kid, now listen to me, if what you say is true, then...," Callen tries to say, but the teenager interrupts him harshly, "Then what? You throw me into prison for saying that Carter was one of the top buyers from this catalog? That I stain the name of a Marine? Of all Marines? Or that I did something once he tried to shove it into my ass?!"

"Kid, we can help you, okay?" Callen tries to assure him, but that is futile now.

"Help me? Help me! You're kiddin' me, right?! Last time I asked police to help me, they beat the crap outta me all night long, no, thank you," the boy cries out in exasperation.

"We're not police," Callen shakes his head.

"You're NCIS, so what does it matter? All the same difference," the teenager leans back in his chair. He's heard this song too often already.

"No, kid. We don't do that shit, okay? No one's here to hurt you, no one," Callen assures.

"Go kid yourself... do I get a lawyer now? I think I'm actually granted one by law," the teenager snorts.

"Yes, you are allowed to have a lawyer, but we may not need that. If you tell us who took out Carter, then we might be able to pull some strings for you," Callen offers, but the teenager is having none of it, "Problem is that I did it. I killed him, so how you gonna pull the strings for me?"

"Whom are you guarding?" Callen questions.

"No one," the teenager sighs.

"If you didn't cover up for someone, you would have stuck to the stab wound," Callen argues.

"Sheesh," the teenager hisses, shaking his head.

"If one of your friends did it or so... we can help. You never should've been in that situation to begin with," Callen tries again.

"There is no one. I killed him. End of story," the boy snorts.

"You stabbed him. And he didn't die from the stab wound," Callen insists.

"And after I stabbed him I shot him," the teen mutters.

"Then where's the gun?" Callen questions.

"I don't know," the boy shrugs.

"You never had a gun, kid," G shakes his head.

"Oh, I handled more than one gun in my life, believe me," the teenager replies darkly.

"You never had the gun that killed him, boy," Callen insists.

"I killed him. He's dead coz of me. So just turn me in so that we can get over with this shit!" the teenager hollers angrily.

"I didn't think I'd ever say that, but... no, I won't turn you in," Callen shakes his head.

"I killed him. I killed him. I killed him. I killed him," the boy blinks rapidly, frantically repeating his mantra.

"Here's what I think what happened: He wanted to have sex with you, but went too far. That's why you stabbed him, in self-defense. You ran away, maybe you even thought about getting help. Then suddenly someone you know or are deadly afraid of, came into the alley, maybe you didn't see that person at all and just ran because you were afraid that police would get you for stabbing Carter. That person fired two shots at Carter, killing him. You ran away and hid behind the dumpsters. And up to that point you believed that it was either the stab wound that already killed him was the reason or that this certain someone who shot him is actually after you... And because you were so shocked thanks to that, you just stayed there," Callen explains his theory. The kid gulps. Callen knows he is right. That's the only way things fit together.

"I killed him," the boy mutters hoarsely.

"No, you didn't. You stabbed him after he tried to take advantage of you," Callen insists.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no, no. Killed him. Killed him. Killed him. Killed him. Killed him. No, no, no, no, no, no. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill. Kill," the boy mutters erratically. The kid suddenly starts to shake madly. Callen is already at his feet, realizing the way the kid acts might actually be medical now.

"Okay, okay, kid. You need to calm down. Now I want you to focus on me and take a deep breath," Callen tries to soothe him, already taking a firm hold on his arms.

"Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die. Die," the teen heaves.

"Kid? Kid? Now look at me!" Callen tries to snap him out of it, but the boy only manages to gasp, "Marty. Name's Marty... Deeks... Marty... Marty... Marty... Marty..."

"Marty, focus on me. You gotta breathe. Focus on me, Marty. Marty!" Callen tries again. But the teenager's movements become even more erratic and eyes roll into the back of his head. Callen is instantly up to catch the boy as he falls.

"Kensi!" the Senior Agent yells as he eases the boy down. The Junior Agent is already on the phone calling for the ambulance as Callen holds on to him so that he doesn't hurt himself. Kensi comes inside and slides down on the ground next to him.

"Is he having a seizure?" Kensi asks nervously.

"I don't know...," Callen grimaces, holding on tighter.

"He's burning up!" Kensi exclaims, cringing upon touching his forehead. Callen glances at the side of the young man as he holds him down, just to find a fat brown stain on it.

"Didn't police check him over?!" Callen cries out.

"Seemingly not! I thought he was fine!" Kensi gasps. G pulls the shirt up a bit just to see a nasty wound which is only taped, the bandages totally soaked.

"Oh my god!" Kensi exclaims.

"He didn't get that today, that's for sure," Callen grunts. Really, how could they miss that?

"Then this might be thanks to the infection," Kensi nods. rolls the shirt up further to search for other wounds they didn't see and he has to stifle a gasp at the extensive bruising and scars on that boy. He looks over at Kensi who only reflects his thoughts with her mimic.

"We should've seen that," Kensi shakes her head sadly.

"Yeah, we should have," Callen agrees.

Soon the ambulance arrives and the teenager is brought to hospital.

Just what the hell is going on with this teenager?

Who is this Marty Deeks?