A/N: I feel this has been hyped up so much at this point that it is sure to disappoint, but hopefully you guys enjoy it anyway.

Kensi ducked behind a stack of packing crates, flinching at the spray of wood that flew around her face. The gunfire was coming from her left; she'd already killed two gunmen and was fairly certain the guy currently shooting at her was the last one on this level of the warehouse.

They'd entered the warehouse, the headquarters of a drug cartel whose stock was responsible for the deaths of twenty people, and each taken a separate floor. It was hardly an ideal situation, but a new shipment was due to be sent out in the next few hours and keeping those drugs off the streets had become a priority.

Deeks was on the top floor and Sam and Callen had taken the lower two levels. She could hear them shouting out occasional updates on their current situation, interspersed with swears and the sound of flying bullets.

She counted to three after the latest round of gunfire ended and then popped up, aimed her weapon, and fired. The man went down with a satisfying thud. Turning in a cautious circle, she scanned the area for any more cartel members and then double checked that each of the men she'd shot were actually dead.

"Clear," she announced, her voice echoing off the surfaces of the relatively empty space. Apparently this floor was mostly used for storage, evidenced by stacks of empty crates, boxes and packing materials. Kensi swung her MK-18 onto her back and pulled her gun from its holster, keeping it ready in case there were any surprises.

"I've got one more," Callen called over the racket.

"Three," Sam spit out tersely. He sounded pissed off.

"I think I'm–crap!" Deeks cut himself off midsentence; he shouted something incomprehensible, a gun fired, and then Kensi heard a faint crashing noise.

"Deeks?" she asked, touching her finger to her ear. When he didn't respond, she stared running to the stairs located near the back of the floor. "Guys, I think Deeks is in trouble, I'm headed his way," she told Sam and Callen, not waiting for them to respond or give approval. As she reached the first landing, she heard more shouts and crashing, followed by what she assumed to be a grunt of pain. Her heart pounding in her ears, Kensi forced her legs up two stairs at a time.

About half-way up Sam and Callen both announced they were clear and she felt the tiniest bit of weight lift from her shoulders.

Kensi couldn't hear anything now and she increased her pace. She should been backing Deeks up, she thought bitterly. They should have been there for each other. If they hadn't been in such a hurry, they could have called in backup.

There was a metal door coated in scratched, peeling paint at the top of the final landing and she approached it with her gun raised. Pulling in a deep, steadying breath, Kensi yanked the door open so hard it smacked against the outer wall and rebounded. She stepped into the doorway, swiveling to the left, and saw a body a few yards away lying in a spreading pool of blood.

As she continued farther into the room, she found a second body half hidden behind a container of what she assumed to be cocaine. A few more feet and she spotted Deeks' gun halfway under a shelf and she automatically bent to pick it up. She tucked it into her waistband, a dull panic starting to spread through her stomach. It was still too silent and that was never a good sign where Deeks was concerned.

"I said stay down!" Kensi breathed out a shaky breath at the faint sound of Deeks' voice coming from the opposite side of the room.

She found him behind a packing machine, bent over someone with his back to her. As she drew closer, Kensi saw that he had a man rolled over on his stomach, both arms pinned behind his back. Deeks also had one knee digging into the middle of the man's back while the other was braced on the floor. The man was huge, easily weighing a good 50 pounds heavier and a few inches taller than Deeks, who appeared to be using all his strength to keep him restrained.

"Deeks," she repeated, sounding a lot calmer than she felt. He looked up, his expression slightly wild but also relieved.

"Oh good, you're here," he said breathlessly, somehow managing to smile despite the blood dripping down his forehead and the bruise already appearing on his jaw. Kensi thought she also saw blood staining his teeth. "I lost my comm during the fight so I wasn't sure anyone was coming. And this guy keeps trying to escape for some reason," he added. As if in demonstration, the man growled something incomprehensible but no less threatening for not being understood and bucked, nearly dislodging Deeks' knee.

Kensi walked around to the other side, pulling her handcuffs out. She now saw that Deeks had gotten in a few good punches of his own. The cartel member's nose definitely looked broken and his left eye was swollen and bloody along the arch.

"Here," she said, offering the handcuffs to Deeks. He quickly snapped them around the guy's thick wrists, releasing his hold slightly, but not letting go entirely.

"You're bleeding," Kensi noted, her eyebrows furrowing in concern. His left hand was nearly coated in sickeningly bright red and a large patch had seeped into the gunman's shirt.

Deeks glanced down at his arm as though he'd forgotten about it while she tugged him a few feet away from their prisoner.

"Oh yeah, he had a knife and I guess I zigged when I should have zagged," he said, fingering his sleeve. It was hardly the most original joke, but Kensi felt slightly reassured that he was joking at all. "I threw it somewhere over there," he added, pointing across the room.

Dropping down next to him, Kensi lifted his arm, flinching as she made contact with damp material. She hadn't noticed it before because Deeks was wearing a black, long-sleeve T, but the cloth was completely soaked with blood.

The gunman, who had turned his head to watch them, chuckled darkly and she glanced at him, a sudden wave of rage rolling through her. Without warning, she reached over and slammed his head into the concrete. He stopped moving almost immediately. Deeks looked mildly surprised but said nothing as she turned her attention to his arm again.

Up close she could see a thin rip in the upper arm of his shirt. Deeks couldn't have been cut more than a few minutes ago, and already he'd bled out several ounces. Gingerly, she ripped the fabric straight down to the cuff, revealing two cuts, one on his bicep and a smaller slash on his forearm. She briefly examined the wound; it was a relatively clean cut, about four inches long and located in the inner side of his bicep. It was also fairly deep and a fresh wave of blood came gushing out as she watched.

Swallowing harshly, Kensi hastily pressed the two flaps of material over the cut and Deeks pressed his palm over the wound. Kensi could see almost immediately it wasn't enough pressure; blood continued to drip off the tips of his fingers and gather in a small puddle on the floor.

"Don't move," she ordered and he rolled his eyes but complied as she grabbed her phone and speed-dialed OSP.

"Eric, we need an ambulance at the warehouse for Deeks," she spit out the second he picked up. "He has a knife wound to his left arm and I think he might have a cut or nicked artery because it's bleeding pretty badly."

"Got it," Eric responded, his voice measured but not completely hiding his concern. She waited as he called the paramedics, his instructions thorough and to the point. "Kensi, ETA should be about 30 minutes. I'm sorry, there's a lot of traffic," he told her apologetically.

"Thanks, Eric."

"I'm going to stay on comms so I can keep you updated."

Kensi thanked him again and hung up, slipping her phone into her back pocket and then started looking for something to wrap around Deeks' arm. Unfortunately, there were only packing materials, crates, shelving and machinery. Deeks didn't have 30 minutes and certainly didn't have enough time to wait around while she searched for something to bind his arm.

Glancing at Deeks again, she saw that the pool of blood was larger and was now soaking into his jeans. Deeks looked up with a raised eyebrow when she started yanking at the Velcro on her vest, which she unceremoniously dropped on the floor, followed by her t-shirt. It was a lucky thing she'd decided to wear a tank top today, she thought wryly.

"Well, my day just got 300% better than it was 10 seconds ago," Deeks remarked as she bent down beside him, pushed his hand out of the way and briskly tied the shirt around his bicep.

"Idiot," she said, proud that her voice and hands remained steady. They were slightly less sure as she pressed down on the wound, eliciting a sharp hiss of pain from Deeks. "Do you feel dizzy or light-headed?" she demanded, watching him for any signs of shock.

"No, but I'm willing to change my answer if it means you'll take off more clothes," he said. He certainly looked at ease, reclined back on his free arm and legs crossed at the ankles. But he was a master, like they all were, at hiding pain when he thought it was necessary. Other than the bruising and blood, his skin looked a normal shade, his breathing sounded normal and a quick brush of her hand confirmed he wasn't clammy.

"Kensi, I'll let you know if something changes, ok?" he said suddenly, his tone no longer flippant as he eyed Kensi seriously.

"Ok," she said after a moment. Deeks shifted slightly, freeing up his right arm. He gently tilted Kensi's chin up and pulled her mouth to his lips for a brief, comforting kiss.

"I'm going to be fine," he insisted.

"Of course you are."

"You know, I hate to interrupt such a lovely moment," Callen said through his comm, "but how are you really, Deeks?"

"I'm fine," Deeks repeated, a touch of annoyance creeping into his tone.

"We're good for now. But Deeks subdued one of the cartel members, so you'll need to come up and get him." Kensi said, ignoring Deeks' smirk at her expense. Maybe she'd used a little more force than necessary to subdue him, but she doubted anyone would question it given the situation.

"Alright, we'll come as soon as backup arrives," Sam said. "Hang tight and try not to bleed too fast, Deeks."

After that, they waited. Kensi kept both hands wrapped tightly around Deeks' bicep, her hands growing sticky with drying blood. Periodically she checked on the surviving gunman to make sure he wasn't showing signs of consciousness.

Every minute that ticked by was agonizing; Kensi could feel Deeks' blood saturating her shirt. Although the flow had decreased some, it was still substantial enough that she was concerned. Her mind was filled with statistics and symptoms of blood loss that had been drilled into their heads at countless trainings, not to mention through plenty of hands-on experience.

Anything over a pint was reason to be concerned. Although she didn't think Deeks had bled out much more than that, it was difficult to tell. Seeing carefully measured out fluids during a training course was one thing, but it was different when you were trying to calculate the milliliters in a pool of blood. Or the amount needed to soak an entire shirt.

She couldn't completely hide her shudder at the thought and Deeks noticed. He didn't say anything but he smiled sympathetically, like she was the one who needed comforting. Kensi was half-tempted to drive Deeks to the closest hospital herself, but quickly discarded that idea. They didn't have sufficient supplies to bind the wound for more than a few minutes and the last thing they needed was to get caught in traffic.

"Hey Kensi," Deeks said, pulling Kensi from her thoughts and she looked down at him. "You know how I said I was fine? Well, I'd like to amend that statement." His voice shook slightly at the end and the arm he was reclined on had started vibrating. Kensi lifted the back of her hand to his forehead; it was damp and cool.

"Ok," she said. "Ok, we're just going to move you over to those crates. Do you think you can stand?" Deeks nodded, his movements sluggish, and pushed himself to his feet. He swayed a little before he righted himself and painstakingly stumbled over to where she'd pointed, plopping down on his butt with a groan.

"Eric, where's the damn ambulance?" she demanded, her voice past the point of control as Deeks' head lolled to the side for a second.

"They're three minutes out, Kensi," Eric said.

"Damn it!" she hissed, pressing down even harder. Deeks brushed his fingers over her cheeks, his eyes slightly distant, and suddenly grinned.

"You know, I can see down your shirt right now," he said, his grin widening as she automatically looked down. She was definitely sporting a lot of cleavage right now thanks to her thin, white tank top and gravity.

"I'm glad you're enjoying yourself," she said, attempting to sound annoyed. In reality, she'd have happily done a striptease if it kept Deeks conscious until he was in the care of paramedics.

"Well, the accommodations leave a lot to be desired but the scenery is top-notch." There was a sudden burst of static over her comm.

"Hey, the paramedics just arrived," Callen informed and Kensi let out a sigh of relief. "We'll be heading up in a minute."

"Good. We're to the right and straight back."

"They're on their way up, baby," she told Deeks who nodded slowly and then swallowed harshly.

"Awesome…this floor is really uncomfortable." Kensi wasn't sure if he was still joking around or simply making an observation. Either way, the faster they got him an ambulance and on the way to a hospital the better.

Kensi counted the seconds in her head, never taking her eyes off Deeks. His color looked about the same and he was still reasonably lucid, but his responses were becoming considerably slower and he kept staring unblinkingly at her left shoulder.

About five minutes later two paramedics, escorted by Callen, arrived toting a wheeled stretcher and various medical paraphernalia. The man joined Kensi and Deeks on the floor while his partner started setting up the stretcher.

"I'm guessing you're Agent Blye," he said in a calm professional tone, looking to Kensi who nodded, "and you must be Detective Deeks. I'm Jose, and that's my partner Lisa."

"He usually goes by just Deeks," Kensi felt the need to say since Deeks remained silent.

"Alrighty then, Deeks it is. So I'm going to switch out with you here. You'll need to let go so I can examine Deeks' arm, Agent Blye." Kensi reluctantly released her grip, helplessly dropping her stained hands to her thighs. They left a faint rusty smear on her jeans.

Jose worked quickly, shifting the material around Deeks' arm just enough to see the wound.

"Deeks, are you feeling dizzy, clammy, or lightheaded?" he asked as he pressed a bandage over the wound and started securing it with gauze.

"Do I only get to pick one?" Deeks responded, his words slurring ever so slightly. Jose frowned at this and started securing the gauze more quickly.

"How long has he been bleeding for?" This question was directed at Kensi.

"35 or 40 miutes, I think," she said, feeling acutely helpless and inadequate. "He'd been bleeding for at least a few minutes when I arrived and I applied pressure as quickly as I could, but I couldn't stop the bleeding completely."

"You did a good job, Agent Blye," Jose said, not pausing in his work. "Without you we'd almost certainly be dealing with a Class 3 or 4 hemorrhage instead of a 2." Somehow the knowledge that Deeks could have bled-out as easily as she'd thought did not make her feel any better.

"Ok Deeks, we're going get you set up on the stretcher, get you in the ambulance and then start a transfusion. Sound good?"

Deeks nodded, peering dully from beneath his bangs. He allowed Jose and Lisa to load him onto the stretcher without complaint. Kensi started to follow them out when Callen called her name and motioned her over.

She'd completely forgotten he was even there and resisted the urge to ignore him. Even if Deeks was in good hands, she didn't like the idea of being too far away from him for any length of time.

"How is he really?" Callen asked and Kensi noticed he was eyeing the various trails of blood. It looked bad. Worse somehow now that Deeks was gone. She swallowed down another wave of nausea.

"Not good, but apparently not as bad as it could have been," she said tightly. Callen sighed heavily and crouched down beside the unconscious gunman with a look of distaste.

"I'll let Hetty know. I think we've got it from here, but make sure you keep us updated."

Kensi arrived outside as Deeks was being loaded into the ambulance. Once he was secured in the back, Jose hopped in and Kensi started to climb in after him.

"Agent Blye, we have a policy–" he started to object, but Kensi resolutely ignored him and sat down in a spot near Deeks' head.

"I'm his wife," she said shortly, then added as an afterthought, "And his partner. So don't even think about pulling next of kin crap on me." She glared at him stubbornly and after a moment he shook his head and motioned for Lisa to close the doors.

Jose asked Deeks a few more questions, including his blood-type while he prepped a transfusion. It was slightly reassuring that Deeks answered each question appropriately, if a little slowly and with a look or two in her direction for clarification.

Kensi had seen transfusions before but this time she couldn't hold back a wince as Jose inserted the needle and dark red blood started flowing down the opaque tubing and into Deeks' arm. All she could think of was the feel of Deeks' very warm, wet blood spilling out and coating their skin. She shuddered once and briefly closed her eyes, resting her hand on Deeks' shoulder, as much for his comfort as hers.

"Figures," he said unexpectedly.

"What?" Kensi asked instantly, trying to anticipate whatever he might need.

"I'm half-exsanguinated and you still can't keep your hands off me." He sounded inordinately proud of himself, if a little tired and grinned with his eyes closed.

"Don't flatter yourself, you look terrible. And please never use the word 'exsanguinated' again," Kensi said, smiling despite herself as she started combing her fingers through his hair. Craning his head, he looked up with a mischievous expression.

"Why, it's super fun to say. Exsanguinate, exsanguinating, exsanguinatee…"

"Oh yeah, you two are definitely married," Jose commented under his breath as he quietly took Deeks' vitals. He currently had a blood pressure cuff wrapped around Deeks' right bicep.

"About five months," Deeks told him with a hint of pride clear in his tone. Kensi shook her head, amazed at his ability to hold a conversation in between bouts of incoherence.

"Congrats," Jose said distractedly as he pumped the cuff up and watched the dial with a practiced eye. "You're blood pressure and pulse are dropping a little." Nudging Kensi aside, he checked Deeks arm, frowning at the spots of blood visible through the layers of bandages and gauze. Wordlessly, he unwrapped another bandage, secured it around Deeks' arm and then unceremoniously pressed both of his large hands over the wound.

Deeks gasped loudly, his head jerking up and some of the haze clearing from his eyes as he looked at the paramedic balefully.

"How bad is it?" he asked, his voice rough. For the first time, he actually looked worried. He sought out Kensi's eyes and she cupped her palms around his jaw, smoothing stray pieces of hair away. His skin was still clammy and now disconcertingly pale. It wasn't clear if it was from the continued blood loss or sudden increase in pain.

"You're going to be fine," she said firmly, echoing his own words despite the sinking feeling in her stomach.

"My head feels really weird." Deeks scrunched his eyes closed and swallowed audibly.

"I know, baby," she whispered, continuing to stroke the sides of his face. She locked eyes with Jose, her eyebrows raised in a silent question.

"I think we have things under control until we get to the hospital," he said.

Kensi continued talking to Deeks through the entire ambulance ride. She talked about anything that came to mind; a trip they'd only mentioned taking sometime next month, Deeks' latest breakfast with Rogers, Monty's next vet appointment. She was pretty sure she said some ridiculous things, but she couldn't remember half of what they talked about by the time they reached the hospital and Deeks was rushed through the emergency.

Kensi sat with her left hand loosely wrapped around Deeks' fingers. She'd been sitting in the same hard-cushioned chair for the last two hours, waiting for Deeks to wake up.

They'd been whisked into a curtained cubicle shortly after arriving at the hospital. Despite his level of blood loss, there were several patients in more critical condition than Deeks and they ended up waiting for a few minutes while a nurse assessed him, started an IV and prepped a tray of surgical instruments.

Standing near the head of the bed, Kensi had had a perfect view as the surgeon examined Deeks' arm and watched in mildly horrified silence as he pried the wound open. Deeks had watched the whole thing with a dazed kind of fascination while she combed her fingers through his hair. The surgeon had confirmed that Deeks' brachial artery had indeed been nicked, not severed. His idle assurance that they would have known had it been severed, made Kensi want to throw up.

Suturing the artery and outer wound was a surprisingly quick process that lasted about 20 minutes. By the end of it, Deeks was drenched in sweat, his teeth clenched tightly together in pain, with a dark row of twenty or so stitches bisecting his upper arm.

The rest of his injuries were superficial and the doctor left the nurse to tend to them while he saw to other patients. Deeks had passed out while she was cleaning the graze on his jaw.

Now he lay propped against two flat pillows with a blanket pulled mid-way up his bare chest. What was visible of his chest was liberally dotted with bruises and superficial cuts while his jaw and forehead had turned a dark bluish-purple.

Sighing, Kensi glanced at the clock again and watched the minute hand tick away slowly. Another five minutes had passed. She rearranged Deeks' hand in hers, curling her fingers a little more firmly around the reassuringly warm flesh. His skin was less clammy than before and his pulse more steady, beating faintly against her wrist.

Involuntarily, her gaze swept up to the IV and blood bag suspended above his head and then over to the heartrate monitor. The reading was almost normal, another good indicator that Deeks was on his way to recovery. Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that some other, terrible thing was going to go wrong.

"You have got to stop scaring me like this, baby," she whispered, brushing a handful of hair off his forehead. She leaned forward, ignoring the smears of blood on his skin and in his tangled hair and beard, and kissed his cheek. He didn't move and she sat back again, her eyes settling on their linked hands.

Her fingernails were still ringed with dried blood despite several minutes of scrubbing. Just the sight made her feel nauseous again.

"Hey, how's he doing?" Sam asked suddenly from behind and Kensi started slightly before turning around to see him and Callen with their heads poked around the curtain.

"Better," she said quietly, standing to give them each a one-armed hug. Callen raised an eyebrow, quietly assessing Deeks' prone body. She sighed heavily and attempted a tight smile. "Or at he should be in a couple weeks."

"I'd hate to see what he looked like when he got here," Callen commented, eyeing Deeks' still too-pale complexion, all the bruising and the couple of neat stitches peeking out from beneath his bandages. Although the words were said without malice or humor, all the emotion Kensi had been keeping in check for the last few hours came to a head and to her horror, a tear slipped down her cheek.

"Nice, G," Sam said with a shake of his head as Kensi hastily turned away, swiping at her eyes. "Real smooth."

"No, it's fine. I'm just…he kept bleeding and there was nothing I could do about it. I'm not sure what would have happened if the ambulance had been another 10 minutes," she tried to explain and ended up shrugging, absentmindedly reaching down to touch Deeks' hand.

"But he is ok, right?" Callen asked cautiously, watching Kensi for signs of tears.

"His surgeon expects him to recover fully in 2-3 weeks. And he wants him to stay here for at least a couple more days. That's assuming that there aren't any complications with the transfusions or infection," she explained, suddenly feeling exhausted as she summed everything up.

"Well, comparatively that doesn't sound like the worst any of us has gone through," Sam offered encouragingly.

"Yeah," she muttered, glancing down at her fingers, at the flakes of blood. This wasn't the first time any of them had nearly bled to death and it probably wouldn't be the last, she thought darkly.

"Mm, it's nice to know you think nearly being stabbed to death is so trivial," Deeks said groggily from his bed.

"Deeks, you're awake," Kensi said in relief, stepping back over to his bed. He couched a couple times and she quickly grabbed the plastic cup of water by his side. "How do you feel?" she asked when he'd finished drinking.

"Like somebody stabbed me," he groaned, wincing as he tried to push himself up and ultimately failed. Kensi helped him up and then pressed a grateful kiss to the top of his head.

"The way I heard it, it was more of a slicing than a stabbing," Callen said with a smirk and then reached over to squeeze Deeks' shoulder.

"Semantics."

"Give him a break, G, he took down a guy twice his size today and lived to tell about it," Sam said, lifting his fist for a fist-bump. Deeks reciprocated weakly, his hand dropping back onto the bed with a quiet thump.

"Yeah, I think he could've given you a run for your money."

"Maybe," Sam allowed diplomatically then turned back to Kensi as Callen continued to rib Deeks about his various wounds. "Hetty said to tell you she'll stop by sometime tomorrow to check in and get your statements."

They continued chatting for a few minutes while Deeks mostly watched. He smiled a couple times, but Kensi could see the growing tightness around his eyes.

He let out a sudden groan, grabbing his head with his free hand. Callen and Sam trailed off, watching in concern as beads of sweat broke out on Deeks' forehead and he swallowed harshly a couple times. Kensi offered him some more water but he shook his head stiffly, his lips tightly clamped together.

"Maybe we should come back tomorrow?" Callen said quietly. Kensi nodded distractedly, her attention focused on Deeks and barely heard their hasty goodbyes.

Deeks breathed shallowly through his nose, his nostrils flared and Kensi slowly stroked the back of his neck, fingers trailing through the ends of his hair. His pulse beat heavily against her palm as he fought back the pain and she kept one hand ready to grab the plastic basin on the counter just in case.

After several minutes of slow, measured breaths, Deeks slouched against the bed and cracked one eye open with a groan, head still hanging forward.

"Are you ok?" Kensi asked quietly. "Maybe I should call a nurse." Deeks grabbed her hand, stopping her from pressing the call button.

"No, I think I'm ok," he said tightly. "My head just hurts really bad and I think it's making me nauseous. But it's not as bad right now."

"We could get you some pain medication," she persisted, hating seeing him suffering.

"If it gets worse again," he agreed reluctantly. "Do you think you could rub my neck like you were before?"

"Of course, anything you need." Gently she rubbed her fingers over his forehead, temples, and neck. Eventually, his neck muscles began to relax and his pulse slowed to a more reasonable rate.

"You know, you really scared me again today," she said quietly, her hand stilling on his cheek. She rubbed her fingers through his beard a few times, enjoying the familiar, comforting feeling.

"I scared myself a little bit too," he admitted, turning his head enough to kiss her fingers. "I'm sorry."

"I'm not blaming you, Deeks. I just wish I'd been there to have your back, like I'm supposed to," she said, thinking again of how different things might have been if she was a few minutes later or if Deeks hadn't subdued the gunman.

A new wave of tears welled behind her eyes and despite all her willpower, a few came trickling out along with a hiccupping sob.

"Baby, no, don't cry," Deeks said, reaching for her despite the tangle of wires obstructing his movement. "C'mere." He lifted his free arm and scooted to the side as much as the undersized bed would allow. Kensi eyed the tubes dubiously but gave in and sat on the edge of the mattress. Deeks somehow wrapped his arm around her enough to pull her into his side and he sighed quietly.

Kensi buried her nose in his neck and breathed in his scent, recognizable even under the smells of blood, sweat and disinfectant. She still felt on edge and way too close to crying at the drop of a hat, but she felt calmer now that she had all day.

"For the record, you did have my back. Cause I think we both know that I couldn't have held that guy down for much longer–please don't tell Sam that by the way–and even I did, I would have bled out before help came. You save my life. Again," Deeks said, pressing his nose into her hair as he spoke. She shuddered at yet another reminder of how close he'd been to dying. Gently nudging his head closer to hers, she pressed her lips to his.

"I will always be there, Deeks. Always," she whispered, wrapping both arms around him. She held him long after he'd fallen asleep, content to simply lie there and feel the beat of his heart, reassuring in its steadiness.

A/N: So it turns out if you want to be realistic and still give your character a serious stab wound/severed artery, they will almost assuredly die within minutes. My medical knowledge (and many other things) is mediocre at best, so I apologize in advance.