Memories
Author: Lawral
Rating: FR7
Pairing: None, but I guess if you squint you can see Giva.
Summary: There's one room in the house that hasn't changed, a room only visited twice a year.
June had come and Gibbs found himself climbing the stairs that led to the upper floor of his house. The day had seemed like it was twice as long as any other day and almost three times as stressful. A case they'd been working for nearly a week had finally been completed. Ironic maybe? Gibbs wasn't sure. Sandra was safely tucked away in the Pediatric wing of Bethesda Hospital and her kidnapper would be cooling his heels in Riker's for the next twenty or so years.
This trip upstairs wasn't like the others. Normally he only made a right down the upstairs hallway twice a year but tonight was different. Sandra Michaels was different. Eight years old, green eyes, brown-blonde hair and one missing front tooth. She was the daughter of Major Michaels who worked in the accounting office of the Pentagon. Midshipman- no, soon-to-be dishonorably discharged Midshipman O'Reilly had taken her from her school bus Tuesday afternoon. Tonight, Friday night, she had been reunited with her parents and older sister Stacey with only minor scrapes and dehydration. It was the only thing that had saved the kidnapper when Gibbs had finally subdued him. Sandra hadn't been injured so O'Reilly could live to see prison.
Gibbs reached the top of the stairs and briefly hesitated. It was as if taking that right turn would bring the world to an end, which in a way it did just that. He could see her in his minds eye. Sandra, smiling as she wrapped her arms around her father as he openly allowed the tears to flow down his cheeks. There isn't anything like the love of a daughter to a father. Gibbs swallowed softly and proceeded down the hall to the second door and paused once more. He lifted his hand to the wooden sign that proudly displayed the name Kelly in bring pink letters.
He pushed the door open and stood in the doorway for a moment. The closet door still hung open with hangers skewed all over the floor as if thrown haphazardly my invisible hands. A coloring book lay open to a page with a big orange and yellow flower (the green grass hadn't been finished) with a photo propped up against a book of Fairy Tales that he'd been reading to her before being shipped out. Gibbs walked into the room and ran his hand down the desk and over the edge of the almost finished picture of the flower. She had always colored pictures for him, bright red ladybugs laying on green leaves and a yellow and brown giraffe, to brighten up his day whenever he was away.
Looking around the room, he again memorized the not-so-clean room of Kelly Gibbs. Her bed was still unmade as if she'd been pulled from it in a rush to abandon the home; her beloved stuffed dolly lay on the floor along side a lone blue slipper; the music box lay open, the batteries long dead from being left open to play. He could almost hear her cries for the lost dolly she cherished. It had been the last gift he'd given to her before deploying.
Kelly had been his pride and joy, Shannon was his greatest treasure and both had been taken from him. He'd gotten his revenge, of course. He was sure he'd have to answer to that someday. At least by Saint Peter anyway. He only hoped that Kelly would be waiting to vouch for him and save him from eternal damnation. He was a father who hadn't been thinking clearly and had retaliated in his sorrow.
"Gibbs?"
His head jerked up and focused on a photo across the room. He'd forgotten it was sitting on her bookcase. Gibbs walked closer to inspect it, to allow the memory to fill his mind. They had gone to the beach for a day of relaxation after returning from his first deployment. Being with his girls was much more fun than being in war and taking lives of faceless opponents. Gibbs was always careful to never touch anything in the small bedroom, he leaned over to get a better view of the photograph. He couldn't even retrieve the mental image of the person who'd taken it. Kelly sat between her parents with a satisfied grin on her face, behind them was a three-towered sand castle that had taken nearly two hours to construct.
"Gibbs?"
He could hear the voice and the soft footfalls on the stairs but somehow it had all jumbled in his mind. Suddenly he could hear her laughter as another voice yelled his name in delight. It brought a smile to his face and a new memory to mind. Shannon always hated to wash the car with him and Kelly. She always ended up wet; yet he could never remember her complaining while playfully running from him, trying to thrust Kelly in the way of the cold water that pelted her body. She never complained when she'd picked up the bucket of soapy water and trying throwing it on him while dodging the water hose. It was always after when she'd be soaking wet from ankle to shoulder and he would, mostly, be dry.
The footsteps stopped and he could sense her behind him, standing in the doorway. He had never allowed anyone upstairs before, let alone into the room of his deceased daughter. It was sacred land in his mind. He smiled once more to the photograph and leaned back to turn to his guest.
Ziva stood in the doorway, her hands against the frame and her eyes roaming over the outdated children toys and books. She didn't say a word as her eyes found his and understood right away the dedication he'd had on their recent case. She didn't say a word as she walked carefully into the room, stopping briefly in front of him. She searched for words that couldn't be found and was relieved when they weren't needed.
Gibbs took the step closer and wrapped his arms around her shoulders in a hug that she reciprocated. Slowly she could feel his wall start to build back up, though this time it only went half way. She smiled softly and closed her eyes as he whispered into her ear.
"She would have liked you, Ziva."