A/N: Major spoilers for the season five finale
Regrets
I always liked to watch him work in his basement, the way his hands stroked the wood with such care made me almost wish I would turn into a tree in my next life, just so that I could end up in his basement, his hands on me once more. I remembered how ever so gently he used to caress my hair when we were in love. Or, I realized, when we weren't afraid to show each other we were in love, because these past three years had just been spent living a lie, denying our feelings to ourselves.
The sight I was watching broke my heart. He was indeed in his basement, slumped in the corner next to the workbench and a large bottle of bourbon next to him. I didn't blame him. I would be the same.
From the moment I heard that codeword at Decker's funeral, I knew this was what was going to happen; I knew my time was up. And I knew, to whatever the cost, I'd keep Jethro out of this. It was my mistake that got us into this mess, and it was my price to pay. If there was anyone I'd give up life protecting, it was Jethro. And I knew he would have done the same for me.
I have regrets, and many of them, most concerning Jethro. I regret the way I left him, all because he didn't fit into the plan I had made for myself. I hadn't realized what I was giving up until it was too late. I wasn't proud of what I had done.
I was never going to get married. I had always known that. I could never love a man like I loved Jethro, and I couldn't do that, to either him or myself. No one could take his place in my life, and I didn't want anyone to either. My heart would always be saved for him, if he ever chose to return to me.
I regret thinking we had all the time in the world. It's so easy to just think there will be a tomorrow, but I should have known better. I did want him back, but I chose not to push, and he didn't push either.
We're both stubborn, and that's sometimes not such a good thing. Not when it comes to this. I didn't wanna admit feelings and he was the same. It was our downfall. No one wanted to confess first. I always wanted to think he'd do if he really felt for me, though I knew him well enough to know he never would.
I recall my conversation with Mike Franks. I realized I had underestimated that man. But if Jethro trusted him, then so did I. What surprised me the most was that he gave me the impression he and Gibbs had been talking about me while in Mexico. And what bothered me was that he knew Jethro still held feelings for me, while I hadn't known.
His low wail of agony echoed through the basement, I saw tears trickle down his cheeks as he was staring at a photo. I placed my hand on his shoulder.
"Jethro," I spoke, my voice sounding distant and hollow even to my own ears, so different from what it sounded like when I had still been alive.
"Jen…" without glancing back, he lifted his hand to his shoulder and placed it on top of mine. I felt the warmth from his skin and if I had tears to shed, I would have let them.
"Why, Jen?" he asked the me in the photo, ten years younger and with a huge smile on my face as I gave the handsome photographer a seductive look.
"I don't know, Jethro," I answered truthfully.
"So many things unsaid, undone…" he whispered, crying in his voice.
"So many regrets," I filled in, my voice expressing an equally deep sadness.
"Regrets… and foolish mistakes," he tried to grab my hand, but I was not real.
"Jen, I don't understand," the confusion in his voice broke me apart. "Are you here or not?"
"I will always be here, Jethro," I replied and placed my hand over his heart. He instinctively put his where he imagined mine was.
"I will always be in your memory," I placed a light kiss to his cheek.
"That's not good enough," he struggles against the tears, I heard that in his voice. I held him throughout the rest of the night, whispered in his ears about all the memories we shared. I came back to him every night, held him and reminded him. I wanted a life of my own, but I was merely in his memories and though we were unable to create new ones together, I knew I would always exist within him.
