DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NCIS OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS!
THE END OF RAGE
Rage. That was the emotion that masked all others. He couldn't live with the sadness, pain and futility that oppressed him. His losses had been devastating and if not for the outlet that rage created, he most likely would've ended his own life.
He'd held the gun in his hand feeling the heaviness of his grief in its weight. He was a good shot. All his troubles could be ended in a split second. The taste of the metal prevented him from putting it in his mouth. He pressed the barrel to his temple. Images of his wife and daughter smiling and laughing flashed in a loop through his mind. He never wanted to forget them.
That was when the rage began to form. He had to live, if only to put an end to the man who had destroyed all that made his life worthwhile. When that objective was complete he'd be able to move on- somehow. He'd be the man Shannon would be proud of.
It was a mission not a vendetta. That's what he told himself. His military training and career were all about making the world a safer place. Just because this particular target being eradicated was tinged with an edge of personal desire didn't make it less necessary.
It had been a long journey to that desert land. Uncovering the drug dealer responsible was easier than he thought it would be, thanks to the NIS agent looking the other way. He'd spent two months tracking Hernandez waiting to find a moment that he could put his plan into action. It was the Mexican's habit of visiting a young senorita in a small village every Thursday afternoon. He went solo, none of his gun-toting goons along for the excursion.
Studying the landscape he'd found a position that would allow him to monitor the one road that vehicles used to enter and depart. He wore his camouflage to maintain his anonymity on the mountainside. He laid in wait. Watching. Finally, he saw him say good-bye his mistress and casually get into his truck.
Through his scope he targeted him clenching his eyes shut recalling the reasons he was there: Shannon and Kelly. He squeezed the trigger and knew without looking that he'd hit his target. He rolled onto his back and let out an agonizing cry. One that he'd held inside for too long. One that released all that sorrow and guilt he'd refused to deal with.
He rolled back and looked down at the truck now run off the road; the driver slumped to the side. His mission was completed. He left the desert land and returned home.
His home was too quiet. He had to do something to keep himself busy. His life as a Marine was over. He couldn't imagine leaving home again and returning to his solitude. He sat and drank finding serenity in his stupor. He passed out on his couch and dreamed that he was with his family once again.
It was there that the NIS agent, Mike Franks found him. He had come to see what the grieving Gunny had done about the murder of his family. He also wanted to help him get on with his life. He had a proposition that would give him a new focus. If the younger man was ready he could find a new purpose to life by joining his team as an agent. He'd read up on the career of Leroy Jethro Gibbs and was impressed by the accolades that were bestowed upon him.
First he'd have to sober him up and convince him that there was a life to be lived ahead of him. After a few weeks, he gotten Gibbs to warm to the idea and got him to apply. Sure that his new Probie would excel as an agent as he had as a Marine he taught him by example the best way to investigate and get to the truth behind each crime.
The day he left the agency he handed his team off to Gibbs knowing his leadership would help the younger agents become the best agents they could be. Gone was the angry young man he'd met years before. Gone was the man who had searched for revenge, and won. Gone was the man lost in his uncertainty of his future. Gibbs had found his place as an NCIS agent and a leader. Only time would tell how far he would go.