DISCLAIMER: NCIS is property of DPB and CBS. I make no claim on it and write this purely for entertainment purposes. No copyright infringement intended.
AUTHOR'S NOTE: This was particularly difficult to write, since Gibbs is hardly a fan of talking about his feelings. I did my best to stay in character. Hope you enjoy.
Questions, Answers, and Apologies
Chapter 2 - Answers
"So, Leroy, what did you do to piss someone off so bad that they wanted me dead?"
Abby's fork slipped from her fingers and crashed onto her plate, the jarring noise banishing the sudden silence that had come over the dining room. Jack noticed the fear that appeared on her face immediately. He wasn't sure what to make of it.
"Sorry," she apologized quietly. She got up and quickly started to clear the table. As she reached for Jack's plate, he stilled her actions by grabbing her wrist gently. "Young lady, I think you need to sit," he said, trying to keep his voice calm, but firm. By her reaction and her mere presence in the house, he knew she had a hand in this mess and he was going to find out what it was, come hell or high water.
Abby sat back down, her frightened gaze turning to Leroy, seeking something from him Jackson couldn't quite put his finger on. Without taking his eyes off Abby, Leroy let his father know he wasn't pleased with the way he was bringing Abby into the equation. "Dad, she has nothing to do with this."
Jackson heard Abby's sharp intake of breath. He watched her fearful look turn into one of shock and, maybe, anger. "How can you say that, Gibbs? If I hadn't gone to…" Abby cut off her words when she saw the barest shake of Gibbs head, telling her to be quiet.
Another uneasy silence fell over the room. "Well, someone had better answer my question," Jackson finally said. "I have the right to know why this lady came into my store today and shot it to hell and back."
Leroy looked at his father, his eyes betraying his feelings. Jackson recognized that haunted expression. It was the same look of anguish he'd had at Shannon and Kelly's funeral. A wave of dread washed over him. 'Dear God…'
The tormented look disappeared as fast as it appeared. "I killed Hernandez," Leroy said in a calm, calculated voice.
Jack stiffened, a coldness settling in over his chest, as he heard the name of the monster that had murdered his daughter-in-law and granddaughter. Letting his mind quickly drift back, he remembered that Hernandez had been killed sometime later, but the killer was never found. Not that he had cared much at the time.
"Why now? Why am I just finding out about this now?" Jack tried to keep his anger from his voice, but the look on Leroy's face told him he wasn't doing a good job of it. At this point, he didn't care.
Jack saw Leroy look at Abby, and then quickly look away. Jack turned toward her, "What is he not telling me?"
He watched as Abby tried to will his son's eyes back to hers but it didn't happen. Sighing she began to talk. "That Hernandez's daughter wants revenge and that it's all my fault that it's happening." The sadness on her face was horrible to see.
Leroy's head snapped up so fast, Jackson thought his neck would break. "Abby…" Leroy's voice was hard and had a warning tone to it. His expression was something Jack had seen before. His son had inherited the famous Gibbs stare.
"No, Gibbs! I'm the one who found the evidence and processed it. I'm the one who brought Hernandez's body back to Ducky. I'm the one who wrote the report and sent in to the task force," Abby rambled on, her voice filled with regret and anger.
"I'm the one who shot the bastard that killed…" Gibbs was stopped from finishing the sentence by his father's outburst.
"Enough!"
Jackson didn't understand what was happening between the two, and frankly he didn't give a damn right now. His son had just told him he had murdered a man, in cold blood. What did he do or not do for his son, growing up, to make him feel he couldn't come and talk to him? He might have been able to talk some sense into his hard-headed son.
"Damn it, Leroy, why didn't you come to me?" Jack said, standing up quickly, his chair falling over in the process.
Leroy didn't stir, his eyes were still fixed on Abby's.
Jack sighed in defeat. Nothing had really changed between them. He had hoped otherwise, but it really hadn't. He stumbled toward the stairs. He had to think. As he reached for the door handle his son spoke… a mere whisper.
"I couldn't…"
Jack turned his head, looking over his shoulder at his son. Their eyes met. A sadness washed over him, seeing the haunted look again on his son's face. Looking away, he hesitated and then descended the stairs.
'Not couldn't… wouldn't.'
Walking slowly to the workstation at the back of the basement, he grabbed the stool, pulling it up close to the table. He reached for the bottle of bourbon and, not bothering with a mug, took a swig. The amber liquid burned all the way down, immediately warming him up. The coldness that had settled in his bones washed away.
Jack couldn't shake the feeling of dread, though. How could he had failed his son so miserably? Flashbacks flooded his mind. He remembered a happy, dark-haired boy with piercing blue eyes smiling up at him while fishing. Leroy had loved to fish. When he was little, he was thoroughly content to hang out with him in the old garage, tinkering around, fixing things. He had been so innocent then.
Jackson felt himself getting misty-eyed over the memory. 'Damn…' He quickly took another drink of bourbon, trying to blink back the tears.
He recalled when he quit the coal mines and opened the store with L.J. Both Leroy and his mother, Mary, had felt they had to compete for his attention. All his time was taken up with building the store and keeping it running. That was when Leroy immersed himself with Little League and Pop Warner football. Sports had consumed him.
Jackson realized he'd only seen a few of the boy's games. It wasn't that he didn't want to see his son succeed, he was just so tired from work and arguing with Mary that he hadn't made the effort to go. The closeness they'd shared faded away, never to return.
Taking another swig, his last, he put the lid back on and set it back up on the shelf.
Jackson concentrated on when Leroy's change of behavior became almost too much to bear. It was the day of the accident, when Mary was bringing over his record books that he'd forgotten. A coal truck ran a stop sign and slammed into the driver's side of her car. She died on impact.
Burying himself in his own grief and drink, Jackson didn't realize how badly his son was hurting. Leroy became an aloof, angry teenager almost over night. He backed off from everything and everyone. He got into fights and started to stay out after curfew. Jackson knew Leroy blamed him for the accident. Had he not asked Mary to bring him the books, she wouldn't have been at that stop sign. She wouldn't have died.
It wasn't long after that when Leroy decided that going into the Marines was what he wanted to do. Jackson had wanted him to go to college, but because it was what he wanted, Leroy was completely set against it. It was as if he wanted to personally hurt him.
As a father, he'd failed his son. Through his own selfishness and self-interests, he'd ignored the most important person in his life, his son. Had he been a more attentive to Leroy's needs, maybe they would've been closer and able to talk to each other…not at each other.
Hearing the raised voices upstairs, he knew Leroy would be down here any minute to hash out all the bad memories. Wiping away the tears and steeling himself, Jackson tried to relax, knowing his son would be down the stairs to have it out with him.
