Starting up a separate thread here for my Nallen stuff so it doesn't get mixed in with my Densi stuff. Hope y'all like it. I don't own the characters, in case there was any confusion there. This is a post-ep drabble from Praesidium earlier this year.

"Kensi and Deeks had left hours ago. They'd driven her home. One of Deeks sweatshirts that he kept at the office had somehow made it around her shoulders. His hand guided her towards her own apartment door. She didn't remember giving Kensi her keys, but she could here the shower running as Deeks gently led her towards the back of the small flat.

She could hear him in the kitchen now, probably preparing her the same tea she'd made him countless times during Kensi's absence. Stream began to fill the bathroom as the warm water filled the tub. Kensi slowly removed Deeks sweatshirt, making eye contact and pulling her into a fierce hug. She must have said something coherent enough for Kensi to feel comfortable enough to leave her alone as she stepped into the shower.

She turned the water to near scalding and stood under the shower stream until her skin turned red and raw. She tried not to think about what had happened, about what she'd done, but the acne at Hetty's kept running through her mind on some infinite loop. It was the quiet knock on the door, barely audible, that snapped her back to present.

"Nell…Nellosaurus…you feel up to eating? I promise I didn't let Kensi anywhere near the kitchen."

She didn't reply, but managed to turn the water off, which appeared to be enough of an answer for Deeks to get him to leave his post at the door. Kensi had laid out some old sweats for her and she pulled them over her still damp frame and padded out into the living room.

Her two surrogate siblings positioned at either side as she slowly nibbled at the food that Deeks had prepared. And somehow, over the course of the next several hours she managed to make enough eye contact, speak just enough, to make Kensi and Deeks ok with leaving her alone for the night, like she wanted to be. Like she deserved to be.

But now it was past the witching hour and she'd realized her mistake. The apartment was too quiet, the night too still. And she stared straight forward into nothingness. It's be easier if she could cry, let go of some of the guilt, but there was something intangible holding her back.

The knock on the door at 2 am really shouldn't have surprised her. It's not like he slept anyway. She let him in silently; sat next to him on the couch. He didn't know what to say to her. This wasn't their relationship. That had always been one of equals. She was the deceptively tough one, wise beyond her too-youthful facade. She was Hetty-in-training; this shouldn't bother her. And yet he knew it did.

His arm around her shoulder drew her into him and that's when he heard it. A muffled sob that wracked him as much as it did her. He didn't know when this spirited red head had wormed her way into his inner circle, not many people were ever allowed there. But as the tears soaked through his shirt, he felt the same pain he felt when he first shot a man, too many years ago to count.

When he felt her shoulders stop shaking so violently, he led her back to her bedroom. Not in the way he'd done in the few nights of weakness (his words) or release (hers) over the course of the last year, but to tuck her in, with her looking younger than he ever thought possible.

He stood guard, perched at the end of her bed until dawn came, when he stood and brushed a strand of copper out of her sleeping eyes and quietly left stood to leave, knowing he'd see her at work the next day and she'd look just like she always did. And yet, she'd never be the same.