A/N - This story takes place a few weeks after the Navy Yard bombing. I decided to take a nugget of information from a conversation that Gibbs and Dr. Ryan had and run with it. A little different but hope you give it a chance.

Disclaimer - These characters are the property of CBS and I only borrow them every now and again.

Son and Heir

Chapter 1

Gibbs closed his front door behind him, removed his side arm and badge before sinking tiredly into his sofa. It had been one of the most difficult periods of his NCIS career, but finally, after nearly three weeks of a manhunt, they had Harper Dearing in custody. Unconsciously, Gibbs ran his hand over the raised scar in his scalp, courtesy of Dearing's car bomb attack at NCIS headquarters. He thought of the lives that had been lost that day, too many innocent lives.

He closed his eyes and recalled the searing heat when the violent blast hit him as Director Vance's SUV disintegrated. The detonation blew in the windows of Abby's lab just as he arrived to warn her of the danger. The flying glass and hot metal were lethal, but he and Abby had escaped relatively unscathed. He had suffered a scalp laceration and shrapnel wound to his arm. Abby took a knock to her head when he pushed her to the ground, but other than that she was unharmed. They had been lucky.

He would never forget the terror he felt in the aftermath of the detonation as he tried to locate the rest of his team. He had led Abby out of the building to safety before returning to the damaged block to find his team. He checked several bodies and injured personnel on the lower floors of the front of the building and was relieved that none of the victims were members of his team. He eventually found McGee lying unconscious in the bullpen of their office with a severe injury to his neck. He had been struck by flying glass and Gibbs fought hard to stop the young agent from bleeding to death, clamping his neck with his bare hands. Thankfully, the building was quickly swarming with paramedics and rescue personnel and they quickly took over and looked after his young charge.

Gibbs had then resumed his search for Tony and Ziva. As he was frantically searching through rubble, his cell phone rang. It was Tony. He couldn't believe it. He sounded fine, much to Gibbs' relief. He told Gibbs that they were trapped in the elevator and that they were okay. Gibbs directed the fire crew to the elevator and oversaw their rescue. Uncharacteristically, he hugged each of them tightly as they emerged from the elevator shaft. To ease the awkwardness of the moment, Tony had joked about some movie elevator scene that completely went over Gibbs' head.

Gibbs kicked off his shoes and put his feet on the coffee table and recalled the moment his cell phone rang for a second time following the explosion. He was heading out of the building with Ziva and Tony, going to get his wounds checked out, on Ziva's insistence. He was already shaken and totally unprepared for the earth-shattering news he received from Jimmy Palmer. Dr. Mallard had been found collapsed on the beach close to his hotel in Florida. Jimmy explained how he had found him and had administered CPR before the ambulance arrived. Ducky was critically ill, having suffered what Palmer suspected to be, a heart attack. That was all Gibbs heard. It was the straw that broke the camel's back because the shock of that news combined with the stress of the last few hours, exhaustion and blood loss caught up with him and he suddenly felt like he couldn't breathe. He became dizzy, reached for a nearby wall and later learned that he had passed out.

He woke in a moving ambulance, accompanied by a very concerned Ziva and Tony. Abby had travelled to the hospital earlier with McGee. Gibbs then told Tony and Ziva about the phone call from Palmer. They were all as shocked as he to hear the news. Tony called Palmer back to try and get more information while Gibbs was being treated in the ER. Tony was able to find out that Ducky was undergoing emergency by-pass surgery, but could hear how worried Palmer was. He wasn't sure what outcome to expect. He sensed things were bad.

Gibbs only spent a couple of hours at the hospital that day before being discharged. He was anxious about McGee, but relieved to find that he was out of surgery and recovering. The Director had also been admitted to the hospital, having fractured his collar bone when he was blown off his feet by the blast. Gibbs, Tony and Ziva were quickly back to work after that and, with the assistance of the FBI, were soon on the trail of Dearing.

Gibbs kept in constant touch with Palmer throughout the manhunt. His heart told him to go to Florida and be with his friend, but his head told him to find this killer. He listened to his head. They worked tirelessly in their efforts to find Dearing. They were down a man and really missed McGee's technical expertise, but they muddled through and, with the help of FBI's techs and labs, they eventually got a lead. It ended up being his own arrogance that was Dearing's undoing.

He couldn't help but re-establish contact with Gibbs in the days following the explosion to rub his nose in it. They weren't prepared for that the first time he called, but the second and third times, they were waiting. They had been able to narrow down his location and it seemed that he was resting on his laurels, his job done. Maybe he wanted to be caught, Gibbs considered, or maybe he just didn't think he could be touched, but they got him. The operation was well planned and well executed and Dearing was taken alive. Luckily for Dearing, Gibbs wasn't first through the door of the farmhouse he was renting. Members of the FBI Special Task Force took point and had him secured before the NCIS agents entered. Gibbs had no doubt that he would have put a bullet in the man had he been first to find him. But what was done was done. The dead had been buried, the wounded were recovering and the culprit was now facing life without parole.

Gibbs rested his head back on the pillow behind him and considered the personal cost of their tryst with Harper Dearing. The cost to NCIS was immeasurable. Seven people had died that day, some he knew, others he didn't, people he had evacuated out of the building, but hadn't made it clear of the danger zone. In fact, those who had remained inside the building had fared far better than those outside. He felt a twinge of guilt when it crossed his mind.

Personally, he was lucky not to have lost his team. He wasn't sure how he would have coped had he lost any of them. McGee had been lucky. Had the glass hit him half an inch to the right, it would have severed his jugular vein and he would have bled to death before anyone had found him.

The good news was that at least Ducky was recovering. Jimmy had postponed his wedding plans and stayed with him in Florida until he was released from hospital. He and Brianna then drove him back to DC and had been looking after him for the last week. Gibbs checked his watch. He should call to see Ducky, but it was late so decided to wait until morning.

His mind wandered to Dr. Ryan. Their relationship had been another casualty of Dearing's reign of terror. He had gotten to her and Gibbs was surprised how easily she had let him. Dearing had ensured that her ex-husband had been released from prison and this panicked her. Within a day, she packed up her life and she and her son Parker prepared to make a new life away from Washington. Gibbs hardly had time to miss her while the investigation was on-going, but now that it was all over, he realised just how much he did miss her.

His stomach growled, reminding him that he needed to eat something. He stood and walked to the refrigerator, removing his jacket and throwing it on the back of a chair as he went. He opened the fridge door and stared at its sparse contents. There were a couple of steaks, but he was too tired to start cooking. He grabbed some cheese and cold cuts and made himself a sandwich. He took a cold beer and sat back on the sofa. He ate greedily and washed his meal down with his beer. He considered getting up and having a shower to freshen up, but he hadn't the energy. He grabbed a blanket and pillow and crashed out on the sofa. The constant stress of the last few weeks had taken its toll and it wasn't long before he was sound asleep.

He was jolted from his slumber by his cell phone ringing. He reached for it and held it away from his face so he could see the caller ID. It was an unknown number. He considered ignoring it but something drove him to answer it.

"Yeah, Gibbs," he grumbled.

"Agent Gibbs? It's Parker Ryan," the whispered voice started.

"Parker?" Gibbs said, sitting up in surprise.

"My mom needs your help, Agent Gibbs. Can you come?" Parker asked, a hint of fear in his voice.

"Put your mom on," Gibbs said, checking his watch. It was after midnight.

"I can't. He's in the house. She doesn't know I called you," Parker explained.

"Who's in the house, Parker?" Gibbs asked, sensing the boy's fear.

"My father," Parker replied, sounding a little ashamed.

Gibbs stomach flipped nervously. He didn't know the full history of Dr. Ryan's brief marriage, but could tell from her reaction the last day in her office, how scared she was of him.

"Okay. Parker, I need you to tell me where you are," Gibbs said calmly.

"We're in Richmond," he replied, before giving him the exact address.

"Okay, I can be there in a little over an hour. Is everything okay? Has he done anything to you or your mom?" Gibbs enquired as he reached for his shoes.

"No, no, they're talking. Mom sent me to my room, but I could tell she was scared," Parker explained.

"It's going to be okay. If he scares you, call 911 right away, okay?" Gibbs advised.

"I will. Thanks, Agent Gibbs," Parker said before hanging up.

Gibbs felt a surge of adrenaline. His gut told him to get to Richmond as soon as possible. The boy sounded scared, but was trying to hide it. He grabbed his jacket and car keys and slammed the door behind him. He drove with haste onto the I-95. Gibbs was renowned for his driving skills and wasn't holding back as he tore down the freeway. It had started to drizzle as he drove. As he weaved through slower traffic, his tires screeched as they struggled to grip the slick road surface.

He wasn't sure what to expect when he got there. Maybe the kid had got it wrong. Maybe they were just talking. Or maybe this guy, Dunne, was going to harm them. He decided to approach it as though they were in danger and he prepared himself. His heart pounded in anticipation of trouble. The thought of Ryan in jeopardy worried him. He realised just how much he cared for her. With all that had been going on with Dearing and Ducky, he barely had time to dwell on the end of their affair. But as he drove, he had time to think. There were times when she drove him mad, with all that brain-gamer stuff, as he called it. She had a way of playing with him, teasing him that at first made him feel insecure and vulnerable. But it was her fearlessness that he loved the most. That was why he was so surprised when she told him she was leaving. He was stunned. He had planned to go after her, to help her, but then Dearing bombed the Navy Yard and he got distracted.

A blaring car horn snapped him from his musings. He was harassing other road users as he sped down the interstate. Finally, he saw the signs for Richmond and steered into the correct lane to take the off ramp. Parker had given him directions to the house. They were staying in the house of a former colleague of Dr. Ryan's, who was currently in Europe for six months. It was intended to be a temporary arrangement until she was able to find somewhere more permanent for the two of them.

He soon found the street and slowed down so that he could read the house numbers. He found 2774 and stopped the car at the curb. He sat and looked towards the house. Dr. Ryan's car was in the driveway. There was no other car around. He got out of the car and walked up the driveway. The lights were on in the front room. He approached the front door and rang the bell. There was no answer. He tried the handle and it opened. Alarm bells rang immediately. She would never leave the door unlocked. Something was wrong. He removed his sidearm from its holster and slowly pushed the door open.

Cautiously, he stepped inside, his eyes scanning the interior. There was a stairs to his right, a living room to his left. He turned three hundred and sixty degrees before walking through into the living area. It was there he found her. She was unconscious, lying face down on the wooden floor. She wasn't moving. Gibbs rushed to her side.

"Doc?" he called as he knelt by her side, placing his hand tenderly on her back.

He could feel her chest rise. At least she was breathing. He took out his cell phone and dialled 911, giving the operator his location and the nature of the emergency. Then he returned his attention to Dr. Ryan. He could tell by the blood and bruising on her face that she had taken a beating. His blood boiled to think that someone could do that to her.

"You're going to be okay, Doc. Help is on the way," he said, trying to console her.

He reached up to the sofa and removed a blanket that hung on the back. He placed it over her. Then he remembered Parker. He stood up and ran to the bottom of the stairs.

"Parker!" he yelled, hoping the boy would reply.

There was no answer. Reluctantly, he left the doctor on the living room floor and went upstairs to check on her son. He searched each of the three bedrooms and the bathroom. There was no sign of him. He decided to try to call back the cell phone number that the boy had earlier called him on. It rang and rang, but there was no answer. It continually went to voice mail.

His heart sank. Dr. Ryan's son was gone.

To be continued...

A/N - let me know if this is going to be worth continuing. I know that a lot of you don't like Dr. Ryan but she doesn't feature a whole lot throughout.