Neverland
Jethro Gibbs softly pushed open the door to his daughter's room and stepped inside. The lamp on the nightstand glowed orange and leant a soft light that illuminated its surroundings. Stuffed animals were piled in one corner and a small pink, plastic vanity stood in another. Pictures were taped to the pale pink and white walls and glow-in-the-dark stars dotted the ceiling and a few toys were scattered by the foot of the pink and white twin bed currently occupied by Kelly Gibbs.
She was sitting cross legged with a small, red, leather-bound book in her lap and her sheets arranged clumsily around her as if she'd resisted being tucked in. Which she had, in fact. Only minutes prior her mother had finished reading her a story and attempted to pull the covers around her, but was stopped by her little voice asking for Daddy.
And, so, Daddy came.
"Hey, princess," Gibbs whispered, sitting next to Kelly on the bed, "You're supposed to be asleep."
"I know, Daddy," she replied just as quietly, "I jus' wanted to talk to you."
"'Bout what, Kell?" Gibbs questioned, smoothing down her baby-fine blond hair with one hand that looked absolutely giant against her tiny, 7-year-old face.
"You're leavin' t'morrow, aren't you Daddy?" Kelly said, her expression solemn and drawn. Her eyes were big and blue and bright with tears and her bottom lip quivered slightly.
Gibbs sighed. "Yeah, baby. I have to."
"So you can't take me to school next week?"
Shaking his head, Gibbs answered, "I'm sorry, Kelly. I know I promised. But Mommy will take you and you can call and tell me all about your first day of 2nd grade."
"S'not gonna be the same."
Kelly voice was small and thick with unwept grief, but still painfully high, reminding Gibbs just how much of a baby his baby really was.
With a suspicious lump pressing against his own Adam's apple, Gibbs gently scooped his daughter up and lay her back down on the bed on her side, the way she preferred to sleep, and moved her hair so that it was spread out over the expanse of pillow behind her head and not plastered uncomfortably against her neck. As he pulled the blankets over her, he suddenly noticed the book she still clutched in her hands.
"What've you got there, Kell?"
She handed it to him. "Mommy read it to me," she explained, "She said it was her fav'rite book when she was my age."
Turning it over, Gibbs saw the words Peter Pan by J.M. Barrie embossed in faded gold script on the cover.
"Did you ever read it, Daddy?"
"Saw the movie," Gibbs replied with a smirk.
"That doesn't count," Kelly stated matter-of-factly, "'Cause that's not the real story."
"Well, why don't you tell it to me then?" Gibbs said genially, sitting down beside his daughter again. She wriggled a bit, scooting over to give him more room, then folded her hands under her head and began.
"You see, it's all 'bout this boy, Peter Pan, who lives in the place called Neverland, where he never, never, ever has to grow up and—"
Suddenly, she stopped.
"What's wrong, princess?"
"Daddy," said Kelly slowly, her eyes focused intensely on his, "Daddy, if I went to Neverland, I wouldn't grow up. I could stay there while you're gone. And then, when you came back, I would come back and I would still be your baby. And you could take me to school next year and I would still be in the 2nd grade, 'cause I wouldn't have gotten any bigger. Right, Daddy?"
Gibbs had absolutely no idea what to say. Part of him wanted to sweep her into a gigantic hug because she was willing to literally stop time just for him and part of him wanted to tell her that nothing this Barrie guy had written about a place called Neverland was true. And part of him…part of him wanted to cry and cry and cry because the only thing his little girl wanted was for him to be there to see everything she would accomplish and that was the only thing he couldn't do.
All those different parts of him managed to channel themselves through his voice when he finally found it.
"Kelly," he choked out, "Kell, I don't think that's necessary."
"Whad'ya mean?"
"I mean, if you went off to Neverland… Well, for one thing, who'd stay with your Mom?"
Kelly's nose scrunched up at this. It was obvious that she'd thought she'd managed to come up with the perfect answer, but the reminder of her mother sent her mind reeling to come up with any possible solution to her new dilemma.
"Can't she come with me?" she asked after a while.
"No, Kell. She's an adult, remember? And, besides, you don't need to go to Neverland to be my baby."
"I don't?" Kelly murmured so quietly that Gibbs almost missed it. Almost.
"No," he replied firmly, "You don't."
He set the book down on the nightstand so he could rub her back.
"Kelly, listen to me. You'll always be my little girl."
"But how can I make sure? I don't wanna grow up without you, Daddy." Kelly's voice was soft from sleepiness now.
"Kell, you're gonna do a lot of things without me in your life. But all you have to do is remember that I'll always love you the way I do now, no matter how big you get."
"Ok." Gibbs' backrub was working its magic, for Kelly's eyes were already closed and her words were beginning to slur together.
"I'll 'member, Daddy. An' I p'omise I'll a'ways be your baby forev..."
She was fast asleep before she finished her sentence.
oOo
17 years later found Jethro Gibbs softly pushing open the door to his daughter's room and stepping inside. It was midafternoon and the sun slanting through the window illuminated the four pink and white walls around him. Nothing had changed much in all those years. The stuffed animals were still in one corner, the vanity in the other. There were a few more pictures on the wall, the most recent being of a laughing, blue-eyed blonde at her 8th birthday party—the one he'd missed. The pink and white twin bed was neatly made, the comforter folded down over the pillow, and the toys that were often left on the floor by their owner had been put into their proper baskets by said owner's father.
And a small, red, leather-bound book lay on the pale pink nightstand.
The light resting on it made the gold embossed script glitter as Gibbs approached. Carefully, he picked it up and turned it over in his hand. It was worn and obviously well-loved, the pages thin and yellowed from age and hands, the leather scratched, the corners rounded, and the spine cracked in so many places it was almost white.
Peter Pan, the gold letters read, by J.M. Barrie.
It was a book that Shannon had loved, Kelly had loved, and Gibbs had never read. Would never read. Because his daughter had already taught him everything he needed to know about Neverland.
I promise I'll always be your baby forever, Daddy.
"That's right, Kelly," Gibbs said aloud, "That's right. You'll always be my baby. Forever."
I don't wanna grow up without you, Daddy.
"You never did." The words were uttered in a broken whisper. "You never grew up, Kell. You never grew up because Daddy wasn't there."
With that, Gibbs set the book back down where it had lain for the past 17 years. He would leave it there, where it belonged, until next month when he would come through with a vacuum cleaner and a duster and tidy up. Then the book would be touched again, but only because it was necessary. Everything in the room would be seen, would be touched, would be cleaned, but only because it was necessary.
It was a child's room, all done up in pretty whites and pretty pinks for a pretty little girl. And because that little girl was still a little girl, her room remained a little girl's room. It didn't grow with time, it didn't change and become something more. It, and everything in it, stayed exactly the same as it had always been.
Just like Neverland.
Gibbs exited the room, pulling the door closed behind him. Just before it clicked into place, he swore he heard a painfully high-pitched voice speaking to him from the direction of the bed.
I'll wait for you, Daddy. I'll wait in Neverland, then when you go, I'll go too. 'Cause I promised I'd be your baby.
Forever and ever and ever.