Whistling in the Dark

A Story for Halloween

...

Deeks had been jumpy all day and the case they had been on for the last three days hadn't helped his mood, so when Sam snuck up behind him in wardrobe and blew a noisemaker into his ear he almost hit him. He fought to catch his breath as Sam laughed at him, glaring at the big man and wishing he hadn't drawn this assignment. He'd much rather be in his favorite bar surrounded by people, then getting ready to go undercover to do surveillance as a homeless man in a condemned hotel.

"Not funny," he grunted before going to the mirror to check his outfit.

"You can go trick-or-treating in those clothes after you get the intel we need," Sam said, hanging around and blowing the noisemaker ever so often, irritating Deeks even more.

"He's a little old for that, don't you think?" Callen offered with his signature smirk.

"Not really, considering the way he acts on a daily basis," Sam retorted.

Deeks didn't bother to reply, pushing past the two agents as he tried to hide his nervousness. Haunting memories from last year's experience had been keeping him awake the last few nights and when Hetty told him about this assignment, it was all he could do to keep from throwing up the fish tacos he'd had for lunch. No one had mentioned last Halloween, even Kensi, but he couldn't shake it from his mind.

"You ready?" Callen asked, eyeing him suspiciously.

"Yeah. Good to go," he said, forcing a quick grin.

"Sam and I will be close by, so stay on coms," he told him.

"Kensi still at Camp Pendleton?" Deeks asked, swallowing down his uneasiness.

"Yeah, and not too happy about it from what Nell told me," he answered. "She wanted to back you up tonight, especially after last year."

There it was, finally out in the open and he slowly let the air out of his lungs as Callen gripped his shoulder.

"We've got your back, Deeks," Sam said as he came to stand beside him. "What's your distress word?"

"Noodles," laughing suddenly at the look on Callen's face. "Just don't shoot me, okay?"

"We only need to know if they are in the building, Mr. Deeks," Hetty said as she approached. "As soon as you have determined where they are, give Callen and Sam the heads up and wait for backup."

"Yeah. Okay."

"Eric will be monitoring your button cam," she said as she followed them toward the door. "We have eyes and ears on you, Mr. Deeks. You are not alone out there."

"That's what I'm afraid of," he said without thinking, before offering a hurried "sorry".

The three men walked out into the darkening night, with Sam trying to lighten his mood with barbs about how badly his clothes smelled and Callen began needling Sam about why he didn't volunteer to take his place. Deeks let the partners' banter wash over him as he tried to keep his mind on the details of the case and the men they were after, instead of the tingling in his palms. The sweat building up under the ragged scarf around his neck and the sour taste in his mouth got progressively worse the closer they got to the old hotel, and he began to silently try and convince himself that what had happened last year was an anomaly, something that couldn't possibly be repeated, that couldn't happen to him again. When the old van Sam had selected for the op came to a sudden stop, he was jolted and swallowed down the acid taste in his mouth, before slipping out the back. He checked his com link several times as he made his way down the street, until Eric asked if something was wrong. He knew they were all worried about him, but that did nothing to dispel the mounting tension he was feeling as he approached the deteriorating facade of the condemned hotel.

The four story Samhain Hotel had been built in the early thirties, its plaster walls now mottled and streaked with mold where the salmon colored paint had flaked off. Nell had informed them that the name was Gaelic and meant 'summers end', but it looked anything but summery tonight. The letters of the name were now barely a shadow, as were the faded prices that had been painted on later in its life. He remembered busting prostitutes here when he'd been a street cop. The place had been on its last legs then and had always creeped him out and on this moonless night the smell of decay didn't help his state of mind much. The arched windows over the entrance had been broken out long ago and stared blankly out over the dark street, and Deeks searched them briefly before moving toward the iron security gate that was chained closed over the sagging wooden doors. He saw that the lock was coded, so he let everyone on coms know that he was going around to the side alley to look for another way in. He tried to whistle something to lighten his sour mood, but his mouth was too dry and he heard the others laugh at his attempt. He finally found a heavy metal door far down the alley surrounded by empty dumpsters and almost obscured by piles of garbage, but once he cleared it he quickly picked the lock and stepped into what had once been a storage room. He stumbled into several empty boxes and then tripped over something soft on the floor, convincing him to pull out his small flashlight he was carrying in case it was a body, but it was only a stained mattress decorated with condoms, a broken bottle of cheap whiskey and a couple of used needles.

"I'm in," he whispered, but heard only static in reply. "Shit."

He tried several times to get a response and by the time he heard Callen's steady voice his nerves were badly frayed.

"I've got a visual from your button cam," Eric suddenly boomed in his ear, causing him to jump.

"Not so loud, man," he snapped.

"Sorry."

"I'm heading into the lobby," he informed them and swept the beam of his light over the ragged carpet in front of him.

He stopped and listened intently before heading up the staircase to the first floor. Most of the doors to the rooms had been removed and he was surprised that they hadn't been taken over by the homeless people that populated the area. He thought it was weird. By the time he reached the third floor, the back of his neck was tingling and he found it hard to swallow. The door to R oom 31 was still attached to its hinges and he moved cautiously forward, his gun now in his hand, but he heard no noise or voices coming from inside, so he pushed it open and stepped inside to clear it. The sickening smell of a dead body hit him and then his flashlight went dark and he froze at the sound of a familiar laugh.

"Trick or treat, Marty boy...did you miss me?"

...

...

Callen and Sam stared at each other, the deep voice coming over their coms, filling them with uncertainty and instantly reminding them of the blinding terror of last Halloween.

"Deeks? Answer me, Deeks," Sam shouted into his com as the engine roared to life, not waiting for Deeks to acknowledge him.

"Eric! What can you see on the button cam?" Callen shouted when they got no response.

"Nothing. There's nothing in that room, Callen," he whispered. "There's just an empty bed. A remarkably clean bed with blankets and pillows."

"We're going in," Sam slammed on the brakes next to the dumpsters in the alley and then they were both running, their guns out and their flashlights sweeping wildly before them.

"Deeks?" Callen said quietly. "Tell me where you are. Which floor, Deeks?"

"Eric, what do you see?" Sam asked nervously as they moved swiftly into the lobby. "Can you tell which floor he's on?"

"He's moving, guys," Eric said softly. "His flashlight must be working now cause I can see he's climbing stairs."

Callen's phone buzzed, making both men jump. "What?" His voice wavered as he continued to make his way up the stairs to the second floor.

"Callen, I got a text just like last year," Kensi practically shouted and he could hear the fear in her voice. "Where is he? Tell me you have eyes on him."

"What was the text?" He asked.

"You won't save him this time," she quoted, her voice hoarse and shaky. "Callen, please. Tell me you'll get to him."

"We're on our way, Kens," Callen said. "Eric can keep you posted."

"Guys," Eric said very slowly. "He's on the roof and someone just knocked him to his knees. Do you think it's the guys we're after?"

"I hope so," Sam said. "I can kill them."

Then they heard a scream, stopping them in mid-step.

"Callen, there's a bonfire on the roof," Eric shouted. "I'm calling the fire department."

Sam and Callen raced up the stairs until they reached the door to the roof. Sam slammed his shoulder into it, but it didn't budge. He frantically tried again, but it remained solidly in place.

"Sam?"

"Deeks? Talk to me man," Sam said frantically. "Are you okay? Who's got you?"

"There's a lot of people up here," he said slowly, his voice hollow, almost trance like. "Dad says I'm supposed to go with him."

Callen pushed Sam back and fired at the doorknob, shattering it, but the door still refused to open.

"Time to pay for your sins, Marty boy," the deep voice sounding close in the com now. "You're scared aren't you, you little shit? Gonna wet your pants like you used to? So weak...so annoying, but not for long."

"Don't listen to the voices, Deeks," Callen said calmly. "Just listen to mine. We'll get you out, just hang in there, okay?"

"Too late," the deep laugh jolted both men and Sam began ramming the door again and again.

"Tell me what you see, Eric," Callen said urgently.

"Deeks is looking at his hands," he said, sounding mesmerized. "Callen, they're covered in blood."

"That's my blood, isn't it Marty Boy?" the deep voice said. "You shot me, you little fuck and now it's time to end your own miserable life, like you tried to end mine."

"You're not real," Deeks said, choking out the words as he turned to face his tormenter.

"Callen, there's nobody there," Eric whispered. "I can hear their voices, but there's no one standing in front of him. This can't be happening."

"Deeks!" Callen yelled.

"I can see his gun now," Eric whispered. "Deeks, man, think about what you're doing."

"Eric? What's happening?" Sam demanded.

"The fire is spreading across the roof," he answered. "He's walking towards it and he's turning the gun...Deeks! Just stop! Please. The firemen are on their way. Just wait for them, okay?"

"Were there this many people in the gang we're after?" Deeks asked breathlessly.

"Is that who has you?" Callen asked.

"There's a bunch of people up here around the bonfire," Deeks voice grew weaker as he spoke. "They look strange."

"We come here every year, Marty," the deep voice whispered. "This year you get to go back with us. All you have to do is pull the trigger. You remember how to do that, don't you Marty boy?"

Callen felt his breath catch in his throat as the sound of sirens drowned out the voices coming over the com.

"Callen, he's gonna shoot himself," Eric was almost in tears. "You have to get to him."

"Deeks! You listen to me," Sam's voice was strident as he tried desperately to reason with him. "Don't you listen to that voice, man. You listen to mine. We're just on the other side of the door and we're here for you, you hear me? We care about you. He doesn't and never has. You know that. We're your family now, Deeks. Don't break our hearts, man. Don't break our hearts."

"Noodles," Deeks whispered. "Hurry, Sam. He's so strong and I'm just a little kid."

Suddenly they were surrounded by firemen, their equipment quickly making short work of the door. The sound of a single gunshot had Sam and Callen shoving firemen out of the way as they charged through the opening and onto the blazing roof. Deeks was lying on his side, the wind blowing sparks all around him as Sam reached him, turning him over gently with fear in his eyes. Callen took the gun from his bloody hands before searching the roof for the people Deeks had seen and for the haunting man they had heard over their coms, but there was no one there.

"Sam?" Callen choked out as he turned to watch him frantically search Deeks body for wounds.

"He's okay, G," Sam said softly as Deeks stirred in his arms.

"I tried to shoot him," Deeks whispered. "But he just laughed at me like last time."

"Let's get you out of here," Callen said as they helped him to his feet.

"Am I crazy, Sam?" Deeks asked as he stared blankly at the raging fire.

"If you are, we are too," Callen said as he pulled him away from the fire and guided him toward the door.

"Trick or treat...ain't this fun?" The deep voice echoed through their coms and Sam quickly ripped his out as Deeks grabbed his head and sank to his knees.

"Eric? Did you hear that?" Callen asked as he helped Sam get Deeks back on his feet. "Eric?"

Sam stared at Callen and then removed the com from Deeks' ear and held his hand out for Callen's earpiece. He gripped them all in his fist and turned, throwing them into the flames, causing a small whirlwind of sparks to rise up into the night sky.

...

...

Callen was on his third cup of coffee when Kensi rushed into the bullpen. Neither one spoke, Callen simply pointing to the couch where Deeks was sleeping. Kensi walked over and gently fingered his hair before leaning down to pull the blanket up over his chest. Sam jerked awake in one of the chairs, but Eric continued to sleep at Callen's desk, his head buried in his arms next to his tablet.

"Hey Kensi," Sam mumbled. "Long drive."

"How is he?" she asked as Callen handed her a cup of coffee.

"The ER doctors couldn't find any physical trauma," Callen said wearily. "They ran a tox screen though, and it came back positive for high levels of Salvia Divinorum."

"Diviner's or Seer's Sage," Eric said, yawning as he woke. "It's a psychoactive drug, kind of like LSD."

"So that accounts for what he experienced?" she asked, quickly noted that the three men wouldn't look at her.

"It might account for what he thought he saw," Callen said. "But it doesn't account for what we all heard."

"Or the text I got," she said quietly.

"Or the bonfire on the roof," Sam said. "No sign of our suspects either."

"I did some research while you guys were at the hospital," Eric said. "I delved a little deeper into Deeks' father's history in connection with the Samhain Hotel. He actually stayed there a few times and how's this for a creepy 'coincidence'? Deeks' father was 31 years old when Deeks shot him."

"That's the number of the room Deeks went into," Callen said. "And the first time we heard that voice on our coms."

"That has to be a coincidence," Kensi said.

"I read through the police reports on the hotel, which is pronounce Sah-ween, by the way," Eric said. "Several splashy murders took place there in the late thirties, and the owner was reported to be a member of the Irish mob, which explains the name of the hotel. Halloween is thought to derive from a pagan Celtic festival by that name that marked the beginning of the 'darker half' of the year and the day the ghosts of the dead were able to walk among the living."

"You are creeping me out, Eric," Kensi said with a shiver.

"Well, one thing the police confirmed," he said quickly. "No one in the area will go near the place, including the homeless."

"What about the used mattress in the storage room?" Sam asked.

"The bodies of the two people who used it were found dead in one of the dumpsters a couple of weeks ago," he replied.

"Well, none of it explains what or who we heard over our coms," Callen said firmly. "Or how Deeks was drugged."

"Just like last year," Kensi said as she turned to look at Deeks who was now staring back at her.

"I could use some of that coffee," he said as he sat up.

Callen brought him a cup and he smelled it appreciatively before drinking deeply. He seemed to savor it and everyone kept silent and simply watched to see his reaction to what had happened. When he looked up and saw them watching him, he closed his eyes and ran a shaky hand roughly through his hair.

"I need to see the video from the button cam, Eric," he said as he stood up. "I want to hear the audio from the coms, too."

"That can wait, Deeks," Sam said softly.

"If I'm going crazy, I'll like to know right now," he said angrily.

"You were drugged," Callen told him.

"That explains the headache, but not how," he said. "When could someone have drugged me, Callen?"

"Good question," he answered. "Eric, run it."

The ghostly images from the button cam ran jerkily across the monitor, the brief comments between the men sounding muffled until Callen and Sam's voices began shouting for Deeks to answer.

"Wait, Eric," Callen said. "I didn't hear the other voice."

"You mean my dad?" Deeks said quietly.

"Yeah."

Eric ran the video and audio back to where Deeks entered Room 31 and they all moved in closer as it replayed. The room was empty.

"I saw him standing there," Deeks whispered. "I swear."

"Eric, what's the problem? Why can't we hear that voice?" Sam demanded.

"I don't know," he answered as he stared at the screen as the night unfolded once again before them.

They heard no other voice over the coms, just their own as they pleaded for Deeks to listen to them. The video showed no one on the roof as the bonfire raged and the only sign that something wasn't quite right was the image of Deeks' bloody hands as he turned the gun toward his chest. They all stood in stunned silence as the audio ended with Sam throwing their earwigs into the rising flames. The button cam continued to record as they helped Deeks down the stairs, and as they reached the third floor, he stopped in front of Room 31. The remarkably clean bed that Eric had seen was now just an empty metal bed frame, the torn mattress hanging limply off the side. The flashing red lights from the fire trucks flickered across the shabby little room, but something caught Eric's eye and he quickly paused the video.

"What is that?" he pointed at the mirror on the dilapidated dresser that sat crookedly in the corner of the room.

"Can you enlarge it, Eric?" Callen asked.

The screen filled with the reflection in the mirror, a dark shadow in the shape of a man, his eyes just slits as he stared back at them from the monitor.

"He's smiling," Deeks said.

...

...