Righto, second part of the story. Gotta say, this kinda ran away from me and I just followed, not exactly knowing where it was going. Hope it's enjoyable ;)

It was a few minutes later that the two men heard a window shatter, and Sam's voice came over the comms, "We're inside. Heading to you." Moments later, a pair of legs appeared at the top of the ladder, and then Sam was making his way past Callen, intent on confirming that the bomb was safe. The shorter agent finally relaxed and put away his gun, only just noticing the blood that was still slowly seeping out of the gash in his arm.

As if summoned by the thought, Deeks appeared at Callen's elbow and gently took his arm. "I'm gonna clear away the blood, put a pad on it and bind it. Not my best work, but it'll keep most of your blood on the inside. They'll patch you up better at the hospital." Deeks spoke tonelessly and quietly, not looking up from the wound as he drizzled saline over it and then dabbed away the dried and fresh blood. Callen remained still and quiet as Deeks covered the cut and then bound it, hands sure and steady. Just before the detective moved away, Callen caught his shoulder, and waited until Deeks looked up and met his eyes.

"Later," Callen mouthed, before squeezing Deeks' shoulder and letting go, stepping aside to allow the taller man to climb the ladder. Without anything better to do, Callen walked over to join Sam, who had finished his examination.

"Not armed. Not even completed. You did well G. I mean, apart from that scratch you got." Sam smiled at Callen and jostled his shoulder. Callen smiled back and then looked around at the bandaged man slumped on the ground.

"Help me drag this garbage to the ladder. The paramedics can't be too far away." Callen didn't feel like initiating the conversation that Sam no doubt wanted to have about Deeks' behaviour. He had a feeling that he wouldn't agree much with what his partner had to say. "Deeks, Kens, we're coming up."

It was only a minute or two later when an ambulance pulled up out the front of the building, preceded by a police escort, whose flashing lights weren't exactly effective in splitting the enthusiastic crowd that was still making its way down the street. An unmarked bomb squad van also pulled up, and four men entered the house to retrieve the harmless bomb. Callen assisted the paramedics in settling the terrorist into restraints, and then sat on the adjacent bench, not wanting to end up at the hospital but knowing he had no choice.

"The MEs will arrive to remove the bodies shortly." Hetty spoke to the team, "And I need someone to accompany Mr Callen to the hospital." Sam opened his mouth to volunteer, but Callen cut him off with a hand gesture.

"Deeks, with me. Kensi, Sam, the power twins can't be too far from getting the traffic cameras back up. Get back to OPS and start scanning the crowd. There's at least two more men we haven't caught. That's more than enough for another attack." Callen sat back as Deeks took a seat next to him, and nodded to the driver, "We're good to go."

The overwhelming noise of the crowd was abruptly dampened as the doors slammed shut, and Callen closed his eyes briefly, breathing in through his nose. "We're on our way Hetty." After letting her know they were moving, he wasted no time in unhooking the earpiece and flicking it off, gesturing for Deeks to do the same.

Knowing that he had to reprimand the detective didn't mean Callen was going to enjoy it, but it was all part and parcel of being team leader. "Never lose your temper in a combat situation. Especially at one of your own. Losing your temper means losing your focus, and your opponent will not hesitate to take advantage of that. What you did was out of line, and I'm fairly certain you're aware of that. I expect that it won't happen again." Callen heaved a huge sigh, "That being said, you had a point, it just wasn't expressed very well."

"Callen, what Hetty did could have killed you! She enjoys being in the loop of everything, and prides herself on knowing the outcome before it happens. And the one time she finds herself blind, she puts you at risk, all because she wants to know exactly what's happening, as it's happening!" Deeks practically exploded.

Callen interrupted before Deeks could go off on another tangent again, keeping his voice even and glancing at the paramedic sitting in the back with them, reminding the liaison that they had an audience, albeit a tight-lipped one. "I wouldn't have died. You would, and did, have my back."

Deeks paused, mouth half-open, and then slumped back, snapping his mouth shut. Callen pressed on. "The situation was not ideal, but then, which armed situation ever is? You had my back, and acted accordingly," Callen's lip twisted into a half-grin, "besides, you really think I'd have let him gut me? Please, give me some credit."

Deeks snorted before replying, "I s'pose not. After all, he wasn't an enthusiastic group of people trying to make friends." Not bothering to hide the smirk, Deeks was ready for the half-hearted punch to the arm that the agent threw his way.

"I don't think they were looking to make friends," Callen muttered, "more likely to pick my pocket."

"Hate to break it to you, but they weren't looking for money when they grabbed you G. They just wanted you." Deeks grinned at the older man, who opened his mouth to argue, and then snapped it shut again when he couldn't come up with a decent counter argument.

Luckily, the ambulance jolted to a stop, and the back doors opened, paramedics far too gentle with the injured terrorist. Callen waited patiently as Deeks jumped down, and slapped away the hand the detective offered him when it was his turn. "I'm not an invalid Deeks."

"Coulda fooled me." The cheeky grin was back, and Callen was slightly relieved that the taller man wasn't dwelling on the dressing down awaiting him when they arrived back at OPS. Well, at least wasn't showing that he was dwelling on it.

"C'mon. They'll have to patch our bad guy up in theatre. If you're good, I'll let you sit by me while the needlessly clean and then bandage my arm. And then we get to hang around waiting for our Mr Face-Number-Two…"

"Fadhil, G. His name's Fadhil."

"You wanna stand in the waiting room while I get to sit down and relax as professionals clean me up? Because you can do just that, you know." Callen was enjoying the harmless banter, and he knew it was doing him and Deeks good to focus on something other than the events of tonight. But he was still curious about the detective's depth of knowledge on how to while literally talk Callen out of a meltdown brought on by sensory overload. The agent hadn't even told Sam about it, his partner merely thought Callen was anti-social, and, at most, uncomfortable around excess amounts of people.

"Oh God, don't leave me in a waiting room. I'll start climbing the walls," Deeks looked around at all the white surrounding him. "you'd think they'd be a little more creative with their colour scheme, 'specially since there has to have been enough complaints about how sterile everything looks." Deeks trailed after Callen, seemingly not bothered, or not noticing the strange looks he was receiving, from both staff and patients.

"Not everyone's as shallow as you Deeks," Callen glanced over his shoulder at the liaison and added, "you never struck me as the hospital-jumpy sort. Figured that was my gig."

"Yeah well, white gets on your nerves if you see it often enough." Deeks murmured, not really following the conversation, instead searching for the vending machine that you always found along the hallway in hospitals, stocked full of healthy-ass snacks. Not.

Callen watched Deeks from the corner of his eye, having slowed to allow the taller man to draw alongside him, not meeting his eyes, looking down the hallways they passed instead. The little slivers of information that he was gaining continued to surprise the older man, and how it was always when Deeks was not fully focussing on the conversation that he gained them.

Before Callen could sink too deeply into that train of thought, a nurse gestured to them, and ushered them into an empty room outfitted with several chairs, one central to the room and obviously meant for Callen, which he took reluctantly.

"Someone'll be in soon. We're a little busy, with Mardi Gras and all. Besides, it doesn't look messy, whoever bandaged it looks like they knew which end of the stick to hold." The auburn-haired nurse spoke directly to Callen, but spared a smile for Deeks, who was leaning on the doorframe, on her way out, which the detective returned as he moved into the room.

"Nice to see someone appreciates my handiwork." Deeks pulled a chair around and sat on it backward, while conveniently facing both Callen and having a good view of the door. The shorter man rolled his eyes, both at the comment and Deeks' probably unconscious seat placement.

"Oh yeah, world class quality," Callen decided that now was probably the best chance he'd get to ask Deeks the questions he wanted and get answers to. But first, "thanks, by the way. Y'know, for keeping me alive."

The detective looked quizzically at Callen, before scratching his head and asking, "Which time?" The tone was light-hearted and cocky, but it was obvious to Callen that Deeks was genuinely puzzled about the agent's statement.

"Well, lets see. You stopped a full-blown freak-out, which no one else has managed to do, by the way. You shot someone who had every intention of cutting me in two with bullets. You kept a knife wound strictly a gash to my arm, and you wrapped up said arm so I didn't pass out from blood loss or get it infected." Callen determinedly kept eye contact with Deeks, even though he felt uncomfortable admitting that his issue with over-enthusiastic crowds was not a one-time occurrence. "I know this is a largely thankless job Deeks, so I'm taking the time to thank you because not many do."

"Oh." That seemed to be the full capacity of Deeks' vocabulary at the moment, as he ran a hand self-consciously through his hair, half-hiding his face behind stray locks. "Oh, um, it's alright… You're, um, welcome?" Seeing Deeks lost for words was priceless, but Callen still had questions.

"And you have to know that I'm going to ask you about how you know about how to help someone with sensory overload. That's not something people just know how to deal with." Callen looked down, slightly ashamed that even with all his determination and practise, he was still victim to the complete loss of control that being subjected to too much stimulation brought on.

After a few moments of silence, Callen brought up his eyes, and saw that Deeks had gotten a faraway look in his. The older man cleared his throat quietly, and Deeks started, before grinning wryly at Callen. "There's a lot about me you don't yet know G. And sensory sensitivity's not that rare."

Callen shifted in the rudely uncomfortable seat, turning so he was facing Deeks head-on. "You picked up on it straight away. Even Sam, with all his experience with me, thinks that I just don't like people." He paused, but then pushed on, knowing that the liaison wouldn't tease him on this, "and I've gotten pretty good at hiding my reactions."

Deeks was already shaking his head. "Not even a veteran like you can shake off a meltdown by himself in the middle of that much stimulation. It's not something you can control." Deeks stopped, seemingly arguing with himself. "I don't claim to know exactly what it is you go through, only that I know it's not something that goes away just 'cause you keep pushing it to." Deeks tilted his head, frowning as he tried to place his words, trying to say exactly what he meant, "Occasionally, less so now than as a kid, I'd be inundated by too much sensory information. Too many people in too small a space didn't make me claustrophobic, but if those people were all talking at once, or smelt too strongly of too many different things, or continually rubbed against me…"

Deeks broke off as he saw Callen nod in understanding. "Well, I never broke down, but I'd be agitated for at least twenty minutes afterwards. Didn't happen too often though, and I was always about to get out of the situation fairly easily. I always found that if I consciously put my senses to work on one person, it often drowned out, or lessened, the overwhelming presence of everything else."

Callen watched Deeks closely throughout his explanation, completely flattened by this piece of information. The thought that this man, the man who always found the spotlight and strove to be the centre of attention actually sometimes couldn't cope with such situations was confusing to say in the least. And it did prove that what Deeks had just said, there was a lot that none of the team knew about the LAPD liaison.

"Oh," Callen felt like he needed to explain himself, which was a rare occurrence in itself, and a first with Deeks, "well, it wasn't a huge issue for me until about my fifth foster home. Five kids, two bedrooms, not allowed outside without adult supervision, it was awful. I…" The agent trailed off, not quite sure if he was ready to talk about his less than ideal childhood with the blond man.

"Hey, I get it. You don't have to explain G. You keep your mysterious persona, and I'll keep your secret, alright?" Deeks leaned back on the chair, stretching like a cat. "I'll never think less of you, and we'll work on avoiding crowded death traps in the future, yeah?"

Callen huffed out a laugh, glad that Deeks seemed to understand everything he hadn't been able to put into words, and glad too, that the recent events hadn't seemed to change the way Deeks viewed their skewed friends-but-not-yet-buddies-except-when-we're-wasted relationship. That was one of Deeks' most impressive skills, as a detective, but also as a person. He'd talk to anyone, and he'd make anyone like him. And he knew exactly how far he could push before someone snapped.

xXx

"Mr Callen?" A young nurse stood in the doorway, a jumble of no-doubt sterilised objects held in his hands. He looked uncertainly between Callen and Deeks as if not sure he was welcome within the room. Deeks stood up fluidly and flashed his trademark white-toothed grin as he returned his seat to its original position and then extending his arms.

"Here, let me help you with that armload. The old decrepit practically passed out is Callen. Needs a terrible wound on his arm cleaned up. Or his arm cut off, whichever's easiest." Callen rolled his eyes at Deeks' probably instinctual response. Get up and help, and annoy and insult someone while doing it. Although, the nurse still looked terrified. Must be new.

"Umm, I wasn't told it was that bad…" The tentative statement trailed off, and Callen struggled to keep his face expressionless, knowing he should step in and act the agent-in-charge, but it was much more entertaining to watch Deeks bat him around a little.

"Oh, it's pretty serious alright. Drooled all over me in the ambulance, too," Deeks glanced sideways at Callen as the stricken expression morphed into confusion and stuck there. When Callen didn't indicate either way that he minded this harmless terrorising of the nurse, the detective shrugged, almost to himself, and walked over to set the equipment on a small bench, there for just such a purpose. "C'mon, nurse…?"

"Oh, uh, Elliott. Jason Elliott."

"Alright nurse Jason Elliott," Deeks turned up the wattage of his smile and waved the still-petrified nurse over to Callen, "I'll be your extra hands, lets go, clean this kid up." As Jason walked numbly across to the reclining agent, looking like he was regretting every single one of his life choices, Deeks dropped his act and threw his head back, laughing.

"Hold on Jason," Deeks paused and gulped in air before continuing, "there's nothing seriously wrong will G here. Well, that's a matter of opinion, he…" At a nudge from Callen's elbow into his hip silenced the taller man, but only momentarily, "…but I digress. He's got a shallow cut on his arm. Just needs to be cleaned up, easy stuff."

Jason simply looked blankly from one man to the other for a few moments, before the tension visibly left his posture, and he slumped forward. "I honestly thought I was in over my head here," Even though it was muttered to himself, Callen and Deeks heard Jason clearly, and both grinned.

"A good dose of fear is always healthy," Callen spoke to Jason for the first time, and was rewarded by a wary look, followed by a cautious nod.

"Wow. What a way to bring the mood down. Bet you're fun at parties. Oh wait, I know you're not." Deeks turned away from Callen, but stayed within range for retaliation, which the agent was sorely tempted to make use of, except for the presence of Jason. Deeks broke his train of thought by addressing the young nurse, "Reckon you could fix up my partner here so we can get back to the fascinating duty of watching a man sleep off his injuries?"

Nurse Jason Elliott ducked his head and stepped around to Callen's arm and unwound the bandage, not flinching as he eventually reached a point where the blood had soaked through. Quickly, and efficiently, he cleaned away the dried blood, and drizzled antiseptic in and around the gash. So lost in this simple routine, something he'd probably done a hundred times, Jason even managed to click his tongue at Callen, before asking, "Are you going to listen to me if I tell you not to do anything that requires the muscles of your forearm for two weeks?"

One half of Callen's lips twitched up, "Probably not. Couldn't even really guarantee two days."

Jason sighed heavily, and Callen saw Deeks duck his head to hide his smile behind his messy hair. "Well, then I'm going to glue the lips of the gash together, and then use butterfly strips to hold them. You'll need about four. Do not get the wound, glue or strips wet. Get someone else to change the butterfly strips, whoever bound your cut in the first place, if possible. Every second day."

Jason paused, and then turned to include Deeks in his instructions. "Running around firing an unnecessary gun will be fine. Don't do any tackling, and don't lift anything heavy, you'll end up splitting open the wound, and trust me, ripping apart the glue with hurt. After two weeks, you should be fine, but be careful for at least two weeks after that. You," Jason paused for half a second, realising he had no idea of the name of the good-looking blond man he was pointing at, "don't let him be stupid." Jason stripped off the plastic gloves he'd donned. "I'll be back."

There were several seconds of not-quite awed silence after Jason had departed, broken by a low whistle from Deeks. "I like that kid." He looked up and met Callen's blue eyes, "He gave you a total dressing down without even trying. And here I was thinking he was as limp as a fish."

Callen raised an eyebrow, but couldn't really argue with Deeks' description of Jason. "You're forgetting something even more important though," Deeks looked at him in confusion, head cocked to the side like a golden retriever, "he put you in charge of my recovery. Twice, in fact. First when he said you had to butterfly strip me," Callen closed his eyes briefly at the poorly worded phrase, but continued without pause, not giving Deeks the satisfaction of inserting a totally unnecessary and probably lewd comment. "But you also have to make sure I don't do anything stupid, like tackle a suspect. So I suppose that means you'll have to do it for me."

"Crap." Deeks leaned back on his heels. "Crap." He looked at Callen, then at the door, then back to Callen. "I wanna bail. Am I allowed to bail?" He flicked his hair out of his face. "Next to you, I'm the one you gets injured most. Why would you want me looking after you? You're s'posed to be indebted to me!" Callen settled back for one of Deeks' dramatic rants that were all bark and no bite. Even if Jason hadn't charged Deeks with cleaning his wound and looking out for him, the LAPD detective would've done it anyway, that simply who he was.

Before Deeks could really get on a roll, Jason returned with, well, a couple of tubes of superglue. "Superglue? Really?" The words were out before Deeks could even think about keeping quiet.

"Really. Adheres to practically anything and sets strong. And it's medical-grade, sterilised, and all that. Exactly what I imagine Mr Callen will need in his line of work." Jason seemed to not only have come back with glue, but also an extra layer of confidence, and attitude. Callen silently lay out his arm, and Deeks stepped closer, mindful of staying out of the light, keeping his shadow from covering the wound.

"Gonna need some help there?" This time the question was asked in earnest, and Jason looked up into serious-yet-laughing blue eyes. He could only nod for the moment, before clearing his throat and looking back down.

"As I lay the glue, I'll need you to pinch the two side of the cut together for about fifteen seconds, then I'll put on a butterfly strip and we'll move on. I'll do it in quarters," Jason suddenly looked up, "you are alright to do this, aren't you?"

Callen had been watching the exchange happening over the top of him in silence, feeling as though he was merely a project being worked on, with no sentiency. So, knowing it was childish, but also not caring, he spoke before Deeks could open his mouth, "He's fine. Good with blood, good with poking out bones, good with flapping skin." Jason blinked, looking down at Callen, a frown creasing his forehead, and Callen elaborated, "He's the one you wrapped my arm, he's already been poking it, he'll be fine."

Deeks, for his part, merely grinned and bent at the waist in a mock bow. "Lets get this show on the road, Jason, he's only going to get grumpier."

Callen resisted the urge to rise to the bait and respond, instead settling as comfortably as possible on the decidedly uncomfortable chair, and tuned out the quiet instructions Jason continued to give Deeks throughout the glue application, which happened to sting. A lot.

Two minutes later, and Callen was allowed to stand up, and as he was putting his jacket back on, he happened to observe the way Jason's fingers lingered on Deeks' hand as he was handed the detective a box of the infernal butterfly strips. Deeks, on his part, seemed unaware of the nurse's attraction, eyes flicking to Callen as he joked about his own medical ability, ever ready to respond to any instruction from the senior agent.

There was a world of trouble that Callen wasn't going to touch with a twelve-foot pole. If Deeks didn't figure it out for himself, then there was no harm done. If he did, well, Deeks was a grown man and was supposedly equipped to handle any situation without making a fool of himself.

"Right, lets go find out where out buddy is." Callen nodded at Jason as he stepped into the brightly lit hallway. Deeks touched two fingers to his temple and flashed his teeth, following three steps behind Callen, humming tunelessly as he followed his team leader back to the reception.

Once they'd been informed that Fadhil still in surgery, but was expected to be out shortly, Callen and Deeks were directed to an unoccupied room, specially designed for criminals who'd been injured during arrest. Callen was content to drowse the time away, but, as always, a room is never silent when Deeks is in it.

"Do you ever get concerned that maybe we're too accustomed to violence?" Callen cracked one eye open and glared at the detective, who was lounging on the singular bed, idly fiddling with a handcuff already attached to the bed, "I mean, I counted them as we walked by. Six rooms G, six. All outfitted like this one. Do other countries have rooms set up for criminals? I bet the British just hire people to look disapprovingly at their bad guys, and they're apologising within the hour." By now both Callen's eyes were open and fixed on the liaison, wondering how he could trick the younger man into the mental ward, and then throwing away the key.

"Oh, c'mon Callen. I know you're not actually falling asleep, it's only been about twenty-four hours since your last nap. And if I don't start a conversation, I am going to fall asleep, and then they'll dump a bomber on top of me." Deeks sat up and crossed his legs on the bed, facing the NCIS agent.

"You're insufferable."

"So I've been told. Many times. In multiple ways. And yet you keep coming back." Deeks grinned impishly, and Callen had to fight back the smile that he felt blooming in response.

"Go get coffee then, that'll keep you awake."

"Have you ever drunk hospital coffee? 'Cause, trust me, if you haven't it's an experience that can wait. Possibly for your whole life."

Callen heaved a sigh, and scratched at his arm, the gash itching. Within two seconds, Deeks was in his personal space and grabbing his wrist. "One of the most important things Jason told you, and I'm so sure you weren't paying attention to him, so I'll tell you again, is to not scratch. You probably won't open the wound, but you most certainly open it up for infection, and I am definitely not going to be the one to tell Sam that his partner lost his arm because he couldn't stop scratching it."

"Relax Deeks," Callen began, pulling his arm back, frowning slightly as Deeks refused to relinquish his hold for a moment, before blinking and letting go. "I was hardly attacking it. And since when were you so concerned about me? I've seen you laugh at me when I was slammed into a brick wall."

Deeks stepped backward until he was perched on the bed again, "Now, that was funny. The facial expression you pulled will stay with me for life." The blond man paused, cocking his head before continuing, "and I really don't want to end up back here when you inevitably get an infection. I've had my fill of hospital for the next six moths, thank you very much."

Callen wasn't entirely satisfied with that answer, but he figured that he'd pushed enough for the time being. He resettled himself, not off-duty, but neither ready to go on the offensive at any given moment, and the silence re-emerged as Deeks finished his shuffling, having found a comfortable position that'd hopefully not send him to sleep. If he was being truthful, Callen was extremely weary, the events of the night catching up to him, particularly the huge stress of sensory overload.

"G, how… how close was tonight to being your worst episode?" The question caught Callen off guard, and he only just managed to keep from starting. Before he could formulate an answer, Deeks spoke again, looking at a point over Callen's shoulder, "You don't have to answer, but I'd like to know."

Callen hesitated, not sure of how to respond. He knew Deeks wasn't asking to exploit him, it was out of genuine curiosity and concern. And then he decided.

"Tonight could have been one of the worst meltdowns I've ever had, if not for you. Only thrice have I ever totally lost it and reverted to a child, and a child's way of dealing with overstimulation, and two of those times was before I turned twenty-one." Callen kept his gaze lowered, but looked up once he finished speaking, gauging the detective's reaction.

Deeks met his eyes, and nodded slightly, letting Callen know that he knew just how difficult it was for the senior agent to admit weakness. "Why don't you try to nap sitting up? I trust you'll be woken by the utter silence of our terrorist being wheeled in. In the meantime I'll make sure someone doesn't sneak up and slit your throat."

Callen immediately opened his mouth to refuse, knowing that no matter how tired he was, he was still working, and that meant he was obligated to sit, awake and weary, for as long as it took for someone to replace them on babysitting duty. And then Callen acknowledged just how much the overstimulation had taken out of him, and he knew that Deeks would always, always have his back, no matter what the situation was. There would be no harm in resting for a few minutes.

"Thanks Deeks."