A/N: This has been rattling around in my head for a while so I decided to put it out there for everyone tonight. Kinda dark I guess but that's okay sometimes.

Lost in Colombia

It was hot. And muggy. And he was hurt. Leroy Jethro Gibbs was somewhere in the jungles of Colombia. He was alone and scared but a part of him didn't really care. He came here to do a job and it was done. He volunteered and when he did he knew he most likely wouldn't be going home again. He didn't care about that either. At least he didn't think he did when he volunteered. Now, when he was very sure he wasn't going home, he found it did bother him and he wished something could change that outcome. But, he knew there was nothing that could save him. He was a Marine and he understood combat and dying and never going home. He told himself it didn't matter; there was no one waiting for him anyway.

Gibbs lay very still and tried to think about what, if anything, he should do about his situation. He had been shot and he knew it was bad. There was a lot of blood and he couldn't move without considerable pain. Sometimes he had trouble catching his breath. He was well hidden now and he didn't think the men that had been hunting him would come back. They knew he was hurt couldn't travel on his own anymore. And there was no one coming to help him. He was as alone as he had ever been. As a sniper he had spent a lot of time hunkered down waiting for his target so he was accustomed to being alone. This was different. He was not part of a team; he had no spotter. No one was waiting for him. He was sent into this hellish place to kill a drug lord and he had done that but as he made his way out of the jungle he had somehow been spotted. He thought he had been set up but there was no way to prove that. Especially now that he was dying. No one would ever know what happened.

Gibbs shifted his position and pulled himself into a sitting position against a tree. The foliage here was so thick he could barely see ten feet in front of his position. He had some water and he took a sip. He wiped the sweat from his face and looked down at his bloody camo shirt and pants. So much blood. He had a satellite phone and wondered if it would work this far into the jungle. There was someone he should call. Well, two someones really. He took another drink, coughed and tried to catch his breath. Pulling the phone out of his pack he was surprised to see it had a signal and was actually fully charged. He called the first number.

"Yeah, this is Franks."

"Hey Mike." Gibbs found it difficult to talk but he wanted to let his boss know what had happened.

"Probie? Where are you? You okay?"

"Not really. Look Mike, I'm hurt and I don't think I'll be back. Wanted to say thanks for the job and for helping me."

That was all he could get out before he was out of breath.

"Jethro, where the hell are you?"

Gibbs thought about how to answer that. He was on a classified mission but he figured since he wasn't going home it was okay to tell Mike where he was. In reality he knew it wasn't okay but he didn't care now.

"Colombia. That job I volunteered for. Didn't go as planned." Gibbs coughed and had a hard time getting his breath. He was starting to feel light-headed and the pain was getting worse.

"Jethro, where's your backup?"

"Isn't any. Look, it's okay Mike. I knew this could happen. I'm okay with it. Gonna see my girls soon. Take care of yourself."

"Dammit Jethro!"

"I know. Thanks for everything Mike. I gotta go. Got one more call to make."

"Jethro." Mike shouted in frustration but the phone connection was gone.

Gibbs rested against the tree trunk and fought against falling asleep. He knew when he did that he was a goner. He had one more person to talk to before he went. There was something he needed to say that he should have said long ago but never had the courage. He picked up the phone again and with shaking fingers he punched in the number he had memorized before he left the States. He had no idea what time it was in the faraway land he was calling but he knew it didn't matter.

When he heard her voice he knew he'd awakened her. He loved that voice. He felt tears fill his eyes and he didn't care.

"Hello?"

"Jen. It's me, Jethro."

"Jethro?" Suddenly Jenny Sheppard was wide awake. She had not spoken to Jethro for years and hearing his voice now, in the middle of the night was a shock.

"Jethro, what's going on? Where are you?"

"Jen, I'm on a mission and I'm hurt. I wanted to tell you something."

He was having trouble breathing again and his emotions were threatening to overwhelm him. Hearing the voice of the woman he loved was harder than he thought it would be and sweeter than he could have imagined.

"What do you mean you're hurt? Where is your team? Is anyone helping you?"

"Jen, just listen. I'm alone. Classified stuff. Anyway, I need to tell you I'm sorry."

Gibbs was struggling now, he was getting cold even in the sweltering heat of the jungle. He knew he didn't have much time.

"Jenny, I love you. I should have told you in Paris. I was too scared. I love you, Jen. Could you just talk to me for a while? I want to hear your voice again."

Jenny could hear the tears in his voice and that shocked her and told her this was deadly serious.

"Oh Jethro! I love you too." Jenny was stricken; she had left Jethro in Paris after a steamy affair. It had been a painful end to a glorious, intoxicating year together.

"Jethro, are you sure no one can get to you?"

"I'm sure. There isn't time. Tell me what you're doing Jen. Just talk to me."

Jenny gathered herself and put aside the sorrow and pain she was feeling. She told him all about her work in Cairo, her apartment, the fact she was learning to cook. She loved Jethro with all her being and leaving him had been the hardest choice she had ever made. Now she knew she would regret it for the rest of her life.

"Jethro, say something."

As difficult as it was for him, Jethro pulled up the last bit of strength he had. He wanted to make sure Jen understood. She had to believe he loved her.

"I had a wife and child before we met. They died. That's why I couldn't tell you I loved you before. I was afraid. I'm so sorry Jen. You were so good for me and I let you go."

He was crying now. He didn't want to die. He wanted to hear Jenny's voice tell him it was going to be alright; that they could be together. But, he knew that wouldn't happen now. She was too far away. And he was fading fast.

"Jethro, I love you. You are the best man I've ever known. We had some fun didn't we. That horrible attic in Marseilles, that farmhouse, Positano, London. We were a good team. I want you to stay on the phone with me, Jethro. Talk to me."

Gibbs felt himself slipping away. He felt cold inside.

"Jen, I'm cold and I don't feel right. I need to go, Jen."

"No!", she shouted at him. "No, Jethro don't shut off the phone. Say something to me, please Jethro."

"Love you, Jen. Be careful. Remember me, okay?"

"Always." Jen once again summoned her courage and said, "Jethro, just leave the phone on and go to sleep. I'll read you that poem we liked to share. I love you and I will never forget our time together."

"Bye Jen."

Jethro laid the sat phone on his chest and closed his eyes. He felt better about things now that he'd told Jen the truth. Even though he'd never see her again he wanted to make sure she knew he loved her. He could hear her sweet voice faintly as she recited their favorite poem to him. He thought about how they used to lie together; her head in his lap as she read to him. The feel of her soft skin against him had been like nothing he'd ever dreamed of. When they made love he wanted it to last forever. He never got enough of her when they were together.

Thousands of miles away, Jenny forced herself to keep reading to Jethro. She was heartbroken but at the same time thankful that he had called her. Jethro was the first man she had ever loved and probably the last she would ever give her heart to totally. Thinking of him alone, dying without anyone to comfort him was tearing her apart. She wanted to at least give him the small comfort of her voice as he slipped away. In the back of her mind she vowed to find out what had happened and somehow bring him home.

Jenny heard nothing for what seemed a long time. She called his name over and over but he didn't respond. Still, she refused to disconnect the call.

Jethro was drifting now. His major organs had all but shut down and his breathing was sporadic at best. He was barely conscious and couldn't hear Jen calling his name. As he faded away he saw Shannon and Kelly walking toward him and he held his hand out to them.

"Daddy."

Through the miracle of satellite technology and the power of a government issued satellite phone, Jenny heard Jethro utter his last word,

"Kelly."

END