Title: Questions
Author: Michelle
Rating: PG for language
Spoilers: Reveille, and a bit of Left For Dead
Disclaimer: The characters I animate belong to other people, and I am not one of them. I'll put them back when I'm finished.

Questions

"Gibbs! Where are you?"

Kate slammed his front door behind her, and the windows rattled in protest. "I know you're here!" she yelled. "I'm not leaving until you talk to me! Gibbs!"

Her ferocious strides propelled her through empty, silent, darkened rooms. The living room and kitchen appeared merely passed through for days, maybe even weeks. She stormed to his bedroom door and flung it wide, fully expecting to find him there. On his pristine bed, however, she spotted the jacket that hadn't left his body for the last few days. "Dammit! Where is he?" A light tap on her shoulder spun her around, her fist flying – right into her boss' open hand.

"You bellowed?" His voice was too quiet, and it reeked of regret and resignation. His eyes flitted around the room, never landing on her face. Alarms went off in Kate's mind; this was not the vibrant man-on-a-mission she had come to know.

"Why didn't you answer me?" she demanded.

"You wouldn't have heard me with all that racket you were making. I was in the basement." He rubbed calloused fingers through his hair, and the dying sunlight illuminated the sawdust freefall. "What do you want?"

What does she want? She's in my house. In my bedroom. Why? There is nothing I can do for her. I could not stop that bastard from coming onto my turf months ago and hurting my friends. I could not stop him today from allowing one of his people to set up DiNozzo, or from taking Kate. Now he's walking free like a hero – a damn save-the-free-world HERO, and all I had done was not enough. All the work. All the searching. In the end, they didn't even need me, because HE had it all under control.

But now she's here, and she wants something, and I don't know if I can give it to her. I can't even look at her, or she'll know how powerless I am. I cannot protect her. Keeping myself strong, alert, and prepared protects only me. And it won't stop the next pair of eyes she sees from lying to her. Even if they're mine.

What do I want? I want to know why he wasn't at his desk when I finally got back to mine. Why he wasn't at the damn debriefing -- no one had my back in that conference room. All I saw were shuttered faces of strategists, crafting the best and most believable story out of the hell I'd seen.

I want him to know that I counted on him to move the world and leap through flames to find me. And now I know how DiNozzo felt after we found him -- I want the words he begged Gibbs to say in the elevator. I want now what I wanted two hours ago when those spooks decided they were finished with me.

I want him to look at me. I'll see the clear blue sky in his eyes, and know I'm still alive.

"You are still alive," his mouth and eyes told her. She hadn't realized that her thoughts had turned to words, until he had spoken. He half-turned away, his bowed profile barely visible in the shadows. At first, Kate thought he was disappointed in her. Disgusted. Ready to send her back to the old friends she'd called that afternoon.

But one thing she learned over this first year with Gibbs was this: first impressions can be deceiving. There's always more under the surface, if you take the time to dig it out. So she waited, and let her eyes do the digging.

She saw exhaustion, and beneath it, restlessness. A need to complete a puzzle missing half its pieces. She'd been there not long ago, and it was a dangerous place. You can find the pieces, she'd discovered, but only by creating them yourself. And they'll fit, but the picture that results may be nothing resembling reality. You won't even know it's unreal, until it explodes. Quite literally. In your face.

He looks like he's been through a war, she thought. Perhaps he's gotten his first glimpse of some of those pieces today.

"Have you slept?" she asked, and a grin dripping with irony flitted across his face.

"Today?" Blank stare replaced grin, and he answered both Kate's and his own questions. "The last time I did… I saw… there was…" Clarity eluded him, and ragged breaths punctuated his attempts to explain his disturbing vision.

"Gibbs, what are you trying to say?"

What is he trying to say? Is Ari now invading his dreams? This fixation has been the center of his life for months. What is he going to do, now that there can be no resolution? How long will he carry that picture around in his head, now that it'll no longer be on his computer screen?

If this were anyone else I know, I'd suggest that he get away for a couple of weeks, on a long road trip. But a frustrated Gibbs -- driving? I'd expect to hear within hours that he needed to be bailed out of jail. Or worse, identified by his dental records…

What am I trying to say? That I saw her cold, sightless eyes gaping at me from a body bag? Felt my heart threaten to burst? Heard a lost soul's keening in grief? Realized it was mine?

How do I put into words what I felt at that moment? I stood in that dream world beside her corpse, knowing I had lost her, and only the beating of my heart broke that silence. Then reality echoed the dream, and she was lost again.

Now she's here, and I'm lost, and my captors are a pair of stormy eyes. I've battled them far too long. I've also discovered that if I win, I lose.

I am not going to lose this time.

"This isn't a game to win or lose, Gibbs," Kate responded to his sotto voce remark. "Haven't you ever had a case you couldn't solve? A perp you didn't catch?"

"You don't understand, Kate—"

"No, you're right -- I don't understand! I've only been taken in twice by that guy, so, you know, you're right… I don't know what the hell I'm talking about!" The day's fear and frustration inundated her, and she allowed it to flow unabated. "It's you who doesn't understand! I watched him put a bullet in that woman's brain, and those eyes I'd thought were so 'kind' -- they never changed! Her life meant nothing to him! And do you want to know the first thing I thought right after…?"

Silver-tipped eyebrows, risen at her sudden outpouring, made Kate realize she had said quite a bit more than she intended to. But the blue skies beneath the canopy of those brows lent her the strength to continue. As always.

"You. I thought of you," she whispered.

"Why?"

"Remember what you said this morning… that he could have killed you in cold blood? That's what I thought about as I watched her fall. Could have been you… months ago… all he had to do was raise his aim…" Unbidden, a sob caught and rattled in her throat, clutching at her words.

"And today, I was glad you weren't there, but I wished you were there…" A sudden rush of tears welled, making her vision swim before she angrily swept them away. "Then I was safe, and back where I belonged, and you had gone! You were not there!" Her fists battered him in resentment, buffeting her words into his chest. "YOU! WERE! NOT! THERE!"

And then he was there, his enveloping arms bringing sense to her heart's paradox.

He was there. She was alive, and he was there.

She held him as if releasing him meant death.

A thousand stupid words crawled into her mouth, begging to be loosed, and she bit them back. A million inane thoughts bounced around her head, some punching their way into her consciousness.

What am I doing? He's my boss! Will he read more into this than there really is? Or will I? Oh, God, he feels so good… I could stand here and hold him all night… Don't need to move, or sleep, or eat. He's so warm… and I can hear him breathing… How long will he stay? Like this? With me? Is he waiting for me to say something, or pull away? He'll be waiting a long time for me to let go.

Because letting him go means letting him GO.

What am I doing? She hasn't been through enough today, and now I take advantage? Maybe there really isn't much difference between the man who took her today, and the one who's holding her now. Well, let him come now; try and take her now, Ari. While she is where I can watch over her. Keep her safe and fed and warm. Oh, please try…

I don't care that she's not herself now. I'm not myself now, and I can appreciate the symmetry. We can be not-ourselves, together.

For minutes that seemed like hours and days, he held her, until the evening breeze wandered through the half-open window and breathed its benediction over them. Instinctively turning his body to shield her from the sudden intruder, he allowed his lips to graze her forehead.

Just to give comfort.

No more than a brother would.

Doesn't mean a thing, he convinced himself -- until she raised arresting eyes to his and recaptured him.

Gone, he thought as his mouth descended and swallowed her fear.

Here, she thought as her lips parted and accepted his power.

He was lost.

She was home.