Ellie still felt responsible.
She never brought this up with the team. She knew what they would do, because they'd done it dozens of times since her divorce. Abby would give her a bone-crushing hug, Tony and Tim would pat her on the shoulder or clasp her hand firmly, and all three of them would offer to go after Jake, assuring her that they would leave no evidence behind. Ellie's guilt wouldn't even factor into the conversation. Sometimes, she needed that, but sometimes, she needed to face it.
That's when she went to Gibbs' house.
This particular night, she arrived just after eleven o'clock. He didn't even look up from his worktable when she padded down the stairs to the basement. "Hello, Bishop."
"Hi, Gibbs."
She took her usual seat on the bottom step. "What are you working on?"
"A jewelry box for Mike's granddaughter."
"That's sweet." Ellie watched him in silence for a few minutes. She had been here often enough now that she could tell his focus was divided between her and his work, though he appeared to be zeroed in on the jewelry box.
"Will you grab the felt?" Gibbs gestured to his workbench. Ellie got to her feet and found the felt. She tried to hand it to him, but he shook his head. "Just a minute," he said. "I'll need your hands."
"Okay." Ellie looked over his shoulder at the box. "What kind of wood are you using?"
"Walnut." Gibbs set down his sandpaper and stood back, running his hands over the lid and sides. "Okay. I'm going to set the felt in. Hold the box steady – fitting the felt is the hardest part." Ellie nodded, putting her hands on either side of the box. Gibbs put the felt carefully in the box, making sure it fit properly, then took it out and reached for a bottle of glue. As he drizzled glue on the bottom, he asked, "Why are you here, Bishop?"
Ellie kept her eyes on the box as she replied, "I was thinking about Jake."
"What about him?" Gibbs put the bottle of glue down, picking up the felt again.
"I drove him to Taylor."
"Why do you say that?" Gibbs put the felt on the bottom of the box, smoothing it carefully.
"If I hadn't left the NSA, none of it would have happened. We would still be together."
"So you're blaming yourself?"
"No, of course not!" she burst out. It took all of her self-control to keep her hands steady. "I didn't make him have the affair–"
"You just said that you drove him to Taylor."
Ellie slumped against the table. "Yes – yes, I did. He said he put the NSA above me. Well, didn't I do the same? Didn't I put NCIS above him?"
The felt set, Gibbs went to his workbench and picked up a mason jar already filled with bourbon. He gave it to Ellie and filled another one for himself. It was a long moment before he spoke. "Relationships are hard," he said softly, looking into his jar. "They're even harder when you can't talk about what you do every day because you'll be violating national security. But they can work. You did what you could to make your marriage work."
"Did I, though?"
"More than Jake did." Gibbs put his hands on Ellie's shoulders and looked her in the eyes. "You stayed faithful, despite everything. Jake gave up on faithfulness when it was no longer convenient."
They'd had variations of this conversation for months, and it always ended the same. Ellie knew that, but it didn't stop her from asking, "Then why do I feel like it's my fault?"
Gibbs wrapped his arms around her in a hug. Ellie buried her face in his shirt as he replied, "Because you loved him, Bishop."
Normally, Ellie hated feeling weak. It came of working in a primarily male profession; she wanted to appear strong and resilient in front of her colleagues. Even around Tony and Tim, she rarely opened up about her feelings. But it was okay to be weak around Gibbs.
He understood.
It was even a rule.
Rule 28: When you need help, ask.
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