One-shot, written while procrastinating writing something much less fun. I just saw a rerun of Requiem, and it got me thinking...
Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS. If I did, I certainly wouldn't be a struggling graduate student.
Summary: Gibbs finds an unexpected treasure.
He didn't expect to find anything there, not after al these years.
To be perfectly honest, he tried not to expect much of anything any more. Expectations were often not met; the disappointment that accompanied the feeling of being let down was a little more than he wanted to bear.
He didn't want to bear anything these days.
But he had gotten a phone call; he had also, apparently, gotten an email, but he rarely checked that unless it was work-related. This wasn't.
Maddie had called, remembered, thought it might still be there. Though he might want to see it. If it was still there. She had sounded hesitant, as if she didn't want to tell him, but she'd made the call, and Gibbs was glad that she had.
Sort of.
He was sitting against the wall in one of the upstairs bedrooms in the house he couldn't bring himself to sell after they died, in a room that still had a young girl's posters on the walls, still had a plaid purple-and-green bedspread, still had a picture of her parents on the bedside table.
Still had her diary, hidden under a floorboard, three steps from the closet door, then two steps towards the east wall.
Gibbs had pried up the board and found, sitting there, the small book. It was a purple hard-bound diary, the kind that Gibbs remembered finding in a dollar store. Kelly had covered it with stickers – there were Care Bears holding hands and dancing across one cover, and Scooby-Doo was being chased across the other cover by a yellow monster.
And now he sat, just staring at the small book, his back against the wall in Kelly's room. His fingers were absently tracing the outlines of the stickers on the covers, flipping the small book over and over again in his hands, playing with the lock on the side. The key hadn't been with the book. Gibbs knew he could pick the lock with almost no effort, and yet, he sat against the wall, touching the lock, wondering if he could actually do this.
The lock fell open in his hands. Gibbs looked down, surprised; he had touched the release and the mechanism had sprung. Kelly hadn't locked the book the last time she had written in it.
He opened the diary slowly, feeling the binding protest as he lifted the cover. He saw the loopy handwriting on the front page and cracked a brief smile. PRIVATE!!!! it announced in orange colored pencil. ONLY KELLY CAN READ THIS!!! And below that, smaller, in green pencil, and Maddie too if I let her.
I am seven years old, the first page proclaimed, and I am Kelly Maureen Gibbs. My mom is Shannon and my dad is Leroy, but Mom calls him Jethro, because his mom and dad gave him two first names. I wish she would call him Leroy. There's a song about a Leroy, not about a Jethro though. I think maybe there was a band called Jethro. A really old band.
Gibbs stopped at the end of the page, smiling in full force now. A really old band, indeed. He hadn't known that Kelly had ever connected him to Jethro Tull. It was a strange connection, he thought; neither he nor Shannon had ever been fans of the band, but Kelly had always loved music.
I want a puppy more than anything else in the world, the next page said. Anything else was underlined several times. Mom says no, but Dad might let me when he comes home next time. When he comes home he likes to let me have my way, I think because he feels bad that he's away so much.
Gibbs stared at the words for a long time. He remembered coming home the summer after Kelly had written this, remembered her asking him for a puppy. I'll feed him, I'll walk him, I'll even pick up his messes, she echoed in his mind. I'll name him after you so you're here with me when you're not here really. Remembered himself talking to Shannon. It could be good for her, Shan, teach her some responsibility. And her reply. And when she gets tired of walking it, I'll have more responsibility. Not until you're home for good, Jethro. And so it was over – no puppy.
When he next left, he had given her a small stuffed dog. Treat this one good, princess, and we'll see about a real one next time. Her eyes had shone with tears and excitement. I'll call him Jethro, she'd said.
He wished he could go back in time now and give her the puppy, give her everything.
The pages went on and on. She had missed him while he was gone, he realized, more than he'd ever known. There were lots of pages with discolorations from, he suspected, tears falling as she wrote. I slept with Jethro tonight, one entry read, but I still miss Daddy. It's not as god as having Daddy home. Later, Mommy says that Daddy will be home in twenty four days. I don't think I can last that whole time. It's so long!
As he progressed through the pages, he traveled back in time, then forward again. He saw Kelly in his mind's eye, a seven-year-old girl, then eight, then nine. Her handwriting steadied, changed to shaky cursive, steadied again.
Daddy left again today, Gibbs read. I asked him not to, but he left. Mommy says that this is the last time he's going to leave though, and when he comes back, he'll stay home with us forever! I don't even want the puppy any more. I just want Daddy to come home.
He was nearly to the end of the book now. How many more pages were there? He couldn't bring himself to stop and check.
Mommy's acting weird, a short entry said. I don't know why, but she's acting like she's all scared of something. I wish Daddy was here. Nobody's afraid of anything when Daddy's here.
Gibbs knew now why Shannon had been afraid. He wished, not for the first time, that he could change the past – that he could reach into yesterday and soothe his frightened wife, hug his beloved daughter. Save their lives. He turned the page and stared.
It was blank.
He quickly turned the page again, and again, and realized that he had read the last thing that Kelly had written before she died. The last message that she had left for him to find.
Nobody's afraid of anything when Daddy's here.
Gibbs pressed a hand to his face, trying to keep the ache inside him from spreading outward. They had died afraid, wishing he were there with them, protecting them from harm. He had failed.
The diary slid out of his lap and hit the floor with a thud. The noise startled Gibbs, and his hand quickly moved to the book, picking it up gingerly. His finger slipped between the last page and the cover, and his eyes caught sight of another message. He opened the book all the way, staring at the last page.
It was only a few lines of text, not enough to fill the whole page. Gibbs stared at it for what felt like hours before closing the diary and standing up. He knelt again by the floorboard that he had pulled up, replacing it into the worn grooves. He carried the book out of the room with him, into his own room, where he sat it on the nightstand next to his alarm clock and bedside lamp.
Before he went to sleep that night, Gibbs opened the book again and looked down at the familiar loopy cursive.
Mom says that Dad thinks he does bad things sometimes.
He does it to help good people.
I love my dad and I know he is the best dad ever even though he's not always here.
I love you Daddy,
Hugs and kisses,
Kelly