Notes: Written for iHeartGibbs for WEE 2017. Inspired by the song "It's Quiet Uptown" from the musical "Hamilton."
Warnings: I'm writing this in the current season (end of season 14 and onward)… spoiler warnings apply, but nothing too critical.
Chapter 1
"Hold that elevator!" Tim shouted as he darted across the lobby. A hand appeared and stopped the elevator door, and Tim scrambled inside. Gibbs pulled his hand back, and the door closed.
"Morning, Tim."
"Morning, Boss."
"You're late."
"I'm sorry... Delilah is going through morning sickness... I didn't sleep a wink."
Gibbs chuckled and sipped his coffee.
"No worries. I know exactly what you mean."
The doors opened at the squad room, and Tim went to his desk. There was a pile of mail on top of his keyboard when he sat down, and he sighed and started to thumb through it. He came across a sealed inter-office envelope, with only his name written on the front, and quickly slipped it into his bottom drawer. He couldn't risk any of his colleagues seeing the contents of that envelope.
As he turned his attention to his e-mail, Gibbs stood up.
"We have a case. The 3 year old son of a Marine was taken from his bed last night. Let's go."
Tim felt a pang in the pit of his stomach. He loathed kidnapping cases. Nobody came out of them emotionally stable, no matter the outcome. He shook his personal feelings aside and picked up his bag. He had a job to do.
********
"Landon's room is this way," Mrs. Dickerson said as he led Tim and Torres up the stairs. "I haven't touched anything... I-I don't want to."
Tim laid a hand gently on her shoulder as they stopped in front of the bedroom door.
"Why don't you wait out here," he said gently. "We won't be long."
She nodded slowly, and Tim and Torres made their way into the child's room. The bedroom window was open, letting a slight breeze into the room. The child's bed sheets were rumpled, as if he'd been yanked right out of his bed.
Torres went to the window and looked out.
"That's a long way down. Do you think that's how our perp got in?"
When Tim didn't offer a response, Torres turned around. Tim was staring blankly at the bed, seemingly in his own world.
"Tim?"
~*~*~*~*~*~*~
1993...
Emergency lights danced on the bedroom wall as police investigators scoured the bedroom. Tim leaned on the door frame, watching them. Sarah clung to his arm, tears rolling down her cheeks. They watched as the police took samples from the rumpled bed sheets, and dusted for prints. How could he have let this happen on his watch?
A hand on his shoulder brought his gaze away from the empty bed. A detective was standing at his side, his expression a mix of compassion and urgency.
"Can I talk to you for a few minutes, son?"
Tim nodded.
"Sarah, go into Mom and Dad's room. I'll be in there in a minute, okay?"
She clung tighter to him.
"I don't want to leave you."
Tim hugged her tightly.
"I promise I'll never let anything happen to you."
"I don't believe you."
She ran down the hall to her parents' room and slammed the door behind her.
TBC...