A/N: When the first promos for episode 1 of season 5 of NCIS: LA aired, some of the scenes were not what they appeared ... mainly, Deeks getting shot for real instead of it being faked. This story popped into my head and I decided to run with it for a little while and see what happens. I'm a Densi fan all the way ... but I also know that one misstep can ruin the best intentions and destroy something beautiful. I hope you will keep this in mind as you read this ... and I apologize in advance for all of the pain and angst in this story.

I own nothing ... Shane Brennan and the wonderful people over at CBS own all these wonderful characters.

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Breathless

The sand she was sitting on had turned cold as the sun had set long ago. The waves were lapping at her toes but she didn't seem to notice, her mind was absolutely numb by what had just transpired. Stunned wasn't enough to describe how she felt ... empty ... hallow. She had tried to prepare herself for this moment, even though she had hoped, deep in her soul, it wouldn't turn out this way. All the times he had been there for her, right there beside her, through everything she had put him through ... this had proven to be too much for even his stout heart to bear.

Her tears had dried up long ago, she had no more to shed. Her choking sobs from earlier had caused her chest to ache slightly and her ribs protested at her sitting position, but she didn't plan on moving. For a moment after he had walked away from her, she had contemplated chasing after him but she instantly realized it would have been a futile effort ... he was leaving, he was practically gone from her life already ... and she was the one who had pushed him away. Her defenses had always been paper-thin for him ... he had just walked through the walls that had turned every other man away at the beginning of any type of relationship with her. Every obstacle that she hurled into his path, he easily traversed time and time again.

She knew to claim her heart had always been his goal ... from the first days of their partnership, through the years of earning and fortifying their trust in each other, almost losing each other more times than they liked to remember ... he had succeeded where all others had failed. Failed ... none of the others had even been in the same level as he had ... no competition whatsoever.

Then she had pushed him to finally say something he really meant ... something that couldn't be laughed off or classified as part of the job. She had listened to him have to flirt with that woman, Monica, and she had to restrain herself from knocking the woman's head clean off her shoulders when she had questioned how much she trusted him. She did ... she had ... for far too long without telling him to his face. She trusted him with everything ... and she was about to trust him with her heart ... when an arms dealer betrayed him into the hands of a man who knew how to get answers.

When they told her that they had lost communication with him ... all she could feel was his lips on hers ... soft, warm, inviting ... loving, trusting, pleading. She could still feel his hands as they cupped her face ... the way his breath felt against her skin ... the way his scruff tickled her cheek as he pulled away from her and said, "How's that for communication?" The honesty had stunned her ... she shouldn't have been surprised, he was always doing things that didn't fit neatly into anyone else's plans.

Then she was running into a dirty body shop and there he was, tied to a chair ... motionless ... bleeding ... and the world she had none for almost thirty years ceased to exist. She couldn't breath ... she could barely speak ... until she saw his chest rise in a shuddering gasp. She called to him and he had looked up at her with a look that shattered her heart and pulled every bit of herself out into the open. But she had to leave him there ... bound and bloody ... even after he begged her to get him out of there. Setting the blood packs and squibs had taken only a few moments and she had turned to leave with Granger ... and her partner had choked out one last plea for her to save him ... and she had steeled her heart against the pull of his words and she had walked out without even looking back at him.

And now, he had walked away from her ... leaving her alone on a cold Los Angeles beach ... taking her world with him. She couldn't blame him ... not one bit. This was all on her. She had practically begged him to say something he really meant ... and he had, leaving no doubt as to what he wanted them to be. The kiss had left her breathless as she followed after Michelle and even when she was taking out the Russian Barbies ... his lips on hers had been all she could when it was time for her to show him something she really meant ... she had blown it. Not just tossed a hand grenade at his heart ... she had gone the full distance and tactically nuked him while he was defenseless and alone.

Even her friends and coworkers were stunned at her actions ... unable to comprehend what would drive her to do what she had done. They were still barely speaking to her and she feared it was just a matter of time before Hetty sat her down and told her she was no longer able to function as part of this team ... that she would be better off transferring to another office, maybe even another city or state. And, really, maybe that was for the best. Everywhere she went ... her apartment, the beach, work, the taco stand ... memories of him would be there to plague her, even torment her over what had been just within reach ... but now was nothing more than ashes in the wind.

He had made his move ... laid his cards on the table ... showed her his hand.

She had flipped the table over and destroyed what could have been. A moment of weakness and fear on her part ... and he was gone from her life. She turned to look to where he had walked away ... his footprints still imbedded in the soft sand, the only sign that he had been there at all. Part of her wanted to scream into the darkening sky that he was just like every other man in her life that had walked away and left her ... her father ... Jack. This time was different though ... this time, this man had left because she hadn't given him much of a choice ... he had even said so when he was telling her good-bye. She had pulled him in only to throw him away like he wasn't important to her at all. Her last, pleading words had fallen on a deaf heart .. her actions had spoken volumes, thundering louder than any tear-stained apologies could overcome.

Laying her head on her knees, she watched the incoming tide slowly erase his footprints until nothing remained but some soft depressions that resembled nothing. The imprints on her heart were still strong though ... carved into her like granite. He would always be a part of her ... no matter how far he went or how much it hurt to watch him leave.

Soon, she would pull herself up and find her way back to her place. She would drown her sorrows in a few beers and maybe some cold pizza if her appetite ever returned. The lights would stay off and no recorded "America's Top Model" for her ever again ... she wouldn't be able to watch without hearing his running commentary about the future divas that were being groomed on the show. No one would be waiting for her to talk about what a crappy day she was having ... no one to ply her with a secret stash of Twinkies just to make her smile. No more "Fern" or "Princess" ... no more coffees made just the way she likes them without her giving the exact directions on how.

No more silly smirks or stupid jokes ...

No more touche' or fighting over the radio station ...

No one to wrap his strong arms around her and just let her be who she is ... or was.

No more ocean blue eyes that could calm the raging sea inside of her soul ...

No more kisses that left her ...

Breathless.

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From the next chapter:

Kensi must have misheard what Callen was trying to tell her. "Shot? What the hell do you mean 'shot'?"

Callen grabbed by her shoulders, knowing that his next words were going to hit her like a Mack truck. "The squibs worked fine for Sam, but before Michelle could get over to Deeks ... " Suddenly there was a knot in his throat the size of Nebraska and he couldn't say the rest.

Kensi folded her arms across her chest and sent him her darkest glare, but when she spoke, she was almost hysterical. "Callen ... what happened? It was all planned ... Granger and I planted the squibs and the blood packs ... Michelle fakes shooting them so Sidorov would trust her ... what went wrong?"

Callen swallowed and glanced down at the floor, unable to stand her piercing gaze. "Before Michelle could do anything ... Sidorov's man went over and shot Deeks twice in the chest."

Kensi's world stopped moving ... the air in her lungs turned to lead. "No ... no, no, NO! He was going to be fine!"

Callen reached out and tried to pull Kensi into his arms to try to calm her down, but she grabbed his biceps and held on tightly. "How is he?" Her voice sounded like that of a small child.

"It's ... it's not good Kensi ... they were performing CPR on him when they rushed them in here ... they won't say anything yet."

"Oh God! ... Oh my God! Callen ... I left him there! He begged me to get him out of that chair and I left him!" The tears came of their own free will and she made no effort to stop them. She lowered her head and Callen pulled her to his shoulder. "Please God ... this can't be happening ... not now."

All the team leader could do was hold his friend in his arms as he felt his own tears start to fall.

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A/N: Don't hate me, don't hate me, don't hate me! This is a work in progress ... so wait until the end to decide if you want to hunt me down and cut my heart out with a spoon. If you want me to continue ... please let me know.

Semper Fi

JS