Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS.
A/N: I don't know how to write just one story at a time, so while I'm still working on Till Death Do We Part, I've started this little fic to go on the side. Just a few things before we begin:
1) This story is completely AU and very much slash. Tibbs slash to be more specific. If you don't like AU, or you don't like Tibbs slash or some combination of such, I would recommend hitting the back button as this story is not for you.
2) I have no idea how long this story is going to be. I haven't finished writing it, but I know exactly where it's going to go and updates should be pretty quick.
3) I tried to keep everything as historically accurate as I possibly could, but I'm not an expert on this period of time and I may have gotten some things wrong. If you notice any glaring errors, please let me know. My ego can handle being corrected.
4) The chapters themselves won't be long. They'll most likely be somewhere between 1000-2000 words each.
5) Lastly, don't forget to review! I love hearing what you think, good and bad!
With that done, I hope you enjoy this story!
Prologue
Storm clouds darkened the sky, making early evening look like midnight. While no raindrops fell yet, it was only a matter of time before they made an appearance, and it certainly wasn't going to be a light spring rain. Loud crashes of thunder sent cats and rodents scurrying from alley to alley, and people rushed around with their coat collars pulled up to block the wind from their rosy faces. The weather was unusual for late April, and it reflected the mood of one Leroy Jethro Gibbs perfectly.
He'd never been a man to live in the big city. He'd been raised in the small, rural community of Stillwater, Pennsylvania, and it was that kind of life that he'd enjoyed. His obligation to the military had forced him to move his small family from his hometown to the big city. Living in the city meant he got to see his wife more, and he didn't want to be separated from her any more than he had to be. He'd convinced her it wouldn't be for long- that they would return to their small town roots before they had children, but their daughter had been a surprise, and to send them back to Stillwater would mean that he would miss out on a lot of Kelly's childhood.
Now, watching the wind blow the violent clouds across the sky, Gibbs wished he'd sent Shannon home the moment she told him they were going to be parents. After all, wouldn't missing a few years of Kelly's life be better than missing out on all of it?
He squeezed his eyes shut as the first fat drop of rain landed on his cheek. He told himself that he should go inside- that he should get out of the rain before he caught his death from a cold, but he couldn't get up the will to actually do it. He sat on the front stoop of the house he'd bought for his family, his heart aching and his mind far, far away.
The police officers who responded to his call for help had banned him from the house upon their arrival, sending him out to the porch with somebody to keep an eye on him and take his statement. With shaky breaths he'd recounted to the young officer how he'd come home from the base to find his family dead.
He'd known the moment he woke up that morning that something bad was going to happen. He'd left the base earlier than usual, his gut telling him that he needed to get home. By the time he'd pushed open the door, it was too late. The man standing over them had taken one look at Gibbs and bolted out of the house through the backdoor, but instead of going after the bastard, he'd fallen to his knees beside Shannon's limp and lifeless body, unable to do anything but pull her into his arms and beg her not to leave him.
What he was going to do now was nothing short of a mystery. He couldn't possibly stay in that house, with the image of his family's murderer burned into his brain. The man's face glowed brightly against his eyelids, and he berated himself for not going after him. The bastard was not a man that he knew, but as the raindrops began to fall more quickly and he stood from the porch, he promised himself that the man would not get away with what he'd done. He was going to pay for taking his girls. He was going to pay for hurting them.
NCIS
The bastard who had stolen his family from him had not been a wealthy man. Gibbs could tell by his dirty, thread-bared clothing that he was of the poor class that begged for money on street corners with the stench of alcohol warning away anybody with any kind of dignity. This narrowed down his field of search to those areas where the bums spent their time, but tracking him down would not be simple- after all, the city contained several areas he would need to search- down by the ports, and beneath the bridge crossing the river, among other places.
It took him several nights to find any leads at all. A man in a dingy, run down bar had told him of another bum who had proudly announced his role in the slaying of a family in Gibbs' area of town on the night in question. Gibbs didn't remember seeing more than one person there, but the man in the bar assured him that the rumors indicated it was not a one-man operation.
Gibbs had thanked the poor man with a shiny gold coin, and hurried off in the direction the man had indicated. He'd find the bastard, or bastards, who had taken his family, and he would make sure they feel the pain Shannon and Kelly had felt while they'd laid on the floor of their home, bleeding to death. There was no way they were going to get away with what they'd done.
He tracked down the man in question very easily. The young man, barely more than 18, had not known what was coming to him, cockily coming clean when Gibbs demanded details of his crime. The man had been shocked when Gibbs grabbed him by his coat and forced him against a wall with a knife to his throat and demanded to know who he'd been working with. The guilty party had begged and pleaded and sobbed, but Gibbs was not in the mood to offer mercy to a man who had just described his sick satisfaction at taking the life of a woman and child.
"Please, sir!" The man had begged, his dirty face wet and his hands shaking. "We was only doin' what we was told, sir!"
"Who ordered it?" Gibbs demanded, his jaw clenched and his hand steady as he pressed the knife against the soft, grimy flesh of the man's neck.
"I don' know-know his name!" The man had choked out. "I never seen 'im before! He gave us three gold coins to do the job, so we done it! It was Robby who agreed to it. Robby's the one who met the guy. I jus' wanted the money!"
Money was not a good enough reason for murder, so when he'd extracted the whereabouts of Robby from the grimy young man, he'd pulled his knife across his throat and let his body fall to the ground. Why should a greedy young man out for money be spared when his innocent family had not?
It had taken him two days to track down Robby, who had no better standing than his dead friend. Gibbs had gotten him to confess to the crime, which hadn't been hard as he'd seemed proud of the act, before forcing him to the ground with a knee to the back and his knife pressed to the side of his neck.
"Who told you to do it?" Gibbs demanded before the man could really process what was going on.
"You're a crazy bastard!" Robby had laughed, but the atrocious sound stopped as Gibbs knife dug into his flesh.
"Who gave the order?" Gibbs repeated the question, his voice cold as steel as he spoke directly into Robby's ear.
"It was ol' Pedro!" Robby caved, squirming beneath him, but unable to get away.
"Why'd Pedro want the job done? What was his reason?" Gibbs pressed the knife harder into the flesh, getting a moan of pain in response.
"The broad saw somethin' she shouldn't of! She was gonna turn Pedro in! He wanted to shut her up 'fore she got the chance!" Robby replied, keeping his composure while his friend had not.
"Where can I find this Pedro?" Gibbs asked the final question.
"I dunno. He ain't from around here. He comes through every now and again and I help 'im out. He comes over from the west, tha's all I know."
Gibbs managed to weasel the ringleaders full name- Pedro Hernandez- out of Robby, before he punched the knife through his jugular and stepped away. It took only moments for the bastard to bleed out, but Gibbs didn't wait around to see it. He took no pleasure in killing the poor bum who seemed to lack a conscience. It had simply been a necessity. It was Pedro Hernandez who would die a slow, painful death for his part in masterminding the slaying of his family. He would make sure of it.
A/N: What do you think so far? Let me know your thoughts!
