Leroy Jethro Gibbs didn't show his emotions. He controlled them; he concealed them carefully. They were buried deep within in him until something triggered them to the surface. He trained himself to be stoic. It was second nature to him, but when his emotions exploded to the surface, the feelings overwhelmed him…lumped in his throat and made his chest burn. Whatever room he was in became smaller, and he felt panic, terror, and dread. He despised losing control. He could handle physical scars better than the emotional ones. Jethro had never anticipated his brother would die first. He was mad as hell about it. Nathan deserved to live a long life and grow old with his wife. Jethro was the one with a death wish. He'd wished for death ever since he lost Shannon and Kelly yet he kept on living.
He felt guilty. Pure, true, unadulterated guilt for living. Nathan wouldn't see his children grow into adults; it would be Jethro. He'd be the one to give Joseph the talk about women. Maybe he'd strongly suggest that the boy stay away from redheads. A redhead was always the undoing of a Gibbs male. He'd be the one to walk Emmaline down the aisle on her wedding day. Jethro didn't deserve it. At all. He'd had a family, and it was torn away from him in the blink of an eye. He wasn't a man that merited second chances. He had been a father once. That was enough for him. He had never wanted children after Kelly. Sadly, he thought he needed a wife after Shannon. All disasters. No one was Shannon. Part of him didn't want to play father to his brother's two kids. What kind of older brother was he? A lousy one. He hadn't driven over to Georgetown to see how his niece and nephew were either. He was being a lousy uncle too.
Jethro shook his head and opened the refrigerator door, leaning in and grabbing a bottle. He popped open the bottle of beer and guzzled. He walked to the fireplace, carrying a plate heavy with a T-bone steak. He tossed the meat onto the grill in the fireplace and sat down. His eyes glanced over to the photo of him, his father, and his brother. A smirk graced his lips as he thought about a night years ago.
He grabbed the tongs and turned the steak over, pouring what was left of his beer onto it. He heard tires screech in front of the house. He looked behind him and saw the black BMW sedan. Nathan. His brother had nearly hit his truck. What the hell was wrong with him? Jethro moved to get up and find out if his brother had lost his mind or was drunk.
The younger Gibbs stormed into the house. He slammed the door behind him.
"Hey Nate. Wanna beer?" he asked as he sat back down, popping open another bottle. Maybe his brother had a bad day. Nathan was still in his suit and tie. Maybe he'd lost a case. He liked to win and put the bad guy behind bars. That was a trait the brothers shared.
"No," Nathan answered tightly. He clenched his fists. His eyes narrowed as he watched his older brother casually sip a beer and act like he hadn't slept with Jenny.
Gibbs glanced over his shoulder at his brother. Nathan didn't turn down a beer if he came over to get a bad day out of his system. It was something else.
"You almost hit my truck, Nate. You get in a fight with Jen?"
He said her name and didn't realize he had ignited a bomb. Nathan lunged at his brother, hitting him hard and knocking him off the ottoman. Jethro was stunned. The back of his head hit the wooden floor hard. He pushed Nathan off him and jumped to his feet. "Nate," he growled. "What the hell's the matter with you?"
Nathan stared at his older brother as he caught his breath. He'd always looked up to his big brother. Jethro was six years older than him. "You slept with my wife! You slept with Jenny!"
"Yeah," Jethro answered, tasting blood from his lip. Why lie? Nathan knew.
He'd been hoping it wasn't true. In his heart, he knew it was true. Jenny's right eye hadn't twitched when she'd told him; it was his wife's signal if she was lying. He let out a breath and briefly looked at the floor before punching his brother in the face.
Jethro stumbled back. His jaw rang with the force from Nathan's blow. Before he could react, his brother dove at him. They landed on a chair, knocking it over. The two rolled onto the floor and tussled, colliding with the end table. A lamp fell and landed on the floor, shattering. Jethro blocked his brother's punches. The two brothers had never come to blows before.
Nathan felt Jethro's elbow clock him above his eye. He fell back. The strike slowed Nathan down enough for Jethro to push him off and to sit up. He stared at his younger brother, rolling his jaw from side to side. "Hold on," he demanded, putting his hands up. He wasn't a young buck anymore.
He didn't want to hold on or wait. He wanted to beat the living daylights out of Jethro. More than he had. "Why did you sleep with her? I would have never slept with Shannon."
Jethro drew a deep, pained breath in as he remembered his late wife. He didn't have an explanation as to why he slept with Jenny. "It just happened, Nate. She came over when you were in Stillwater. It just happened."
Nathaniel lifted his head up and stared at the man he thought he knew. Hell, he thought he knew his wife. Did he truly know any of the people important to him? Two people he loved unconditionally had betrayed him. Stuck a knife deep into his back.
"You took advantage of her."
"I didn't, Nate. I swear I didn't."
"You did," he snarled.
"She was willing."
Nathan's brown eyes dangerously darkened. He clenched his jaw and balled his fists, coming at Jethro for a third time. Nathan wanted a fight, but he wouldn't get one from him He roughly shoved Nathan away from him. Nathaniel fumbled over the ottoman and landed on his ass.
Jethro bent over and grabbed his knocked over beer. "Enough," he barked before draining the small amount of beer left in the bottle. He watched his younger brother stay down and catch his breath. Nathan grimaced and pulled a shard from a broken lamp out of his arm.
He glanced around the destroyed living room and took a few took steps towards Nate. Jethro extended his hand to help him up from the floor. He looked away and got to his feet on his own. He watched Jethro walk into the kitchen and take a bag of peas out of the freezer, sticking the cold bag to his eye.
"Why did you sleep with Jenny?"
The older Gibbs shrugged his shoulders and ran the frozen bag over his jaw with a grimace.
"You aren't gonna say one goddamn word. What the fuck is wrong with you?"
He didn't answer. He couldn't respond to such a loaded question. Jethro simply stood in front of the refrigerator with a bag of peas on his face and waited for Nathaniel's next move.
Nathan shook his head. He didn't feel any better. He wanted answers, and he wasn't getting anything close. Only infuriating silence. Nathan stepped into the kitchen and walked to the sink, throwing cold water on his face. He grabbed a dishtowel and lightly patted his face dry. He looked at his arm and thought it would need stitches.
Jethro took a beer out of the fridge and offered it to his brother. He winced when Nate threw the bottle against the wall. It shattered; glass flying and beer pouring down the wall.
"I don't want a beer! Goddammit! I want you to tell me why! We're brothers. Doesn't that mean anything to you? Brothers don't do that!" He wanted to say more, but he couldn't. Jenny was finally pregnant and not by him. His wife was carrying his brother's child.
Jethro took a step towards him and placed a hand on his shoulder, looking him in the eye. "I'm a bastard for it," he uttered. It was as close to an apology as he could give.
Nathan shoved his hand off his shoulder and threw one last punch, hitting Jethro hard enough to knock him to the floor. "Stay away from me and Jenny." He walked away from his older brother and out of the house, getting into his car and speeding off.
Gibbs stood in the middle of the kitchen after he recovered from the strike. He threw the bag of peas back into the freezer, slamming the door. He walked into the living room and surveyed the damage. Broken lamps. Knocked over chairs. Magazines from the coffee table were scattered everywhere. His steak was burned too. He flopped onto the couch and let it sink in that he'd obliterated his relationship with his brother.
After the fight, he and Nathan didn't speak. There was the one time Nathan called him when Emmaline was months old and Jenny was in California taking care of her sick mother. He helped his little brother take care of the screaming earache-suffering baby, but he didn't truly get to be around his niece until she was four years old. The brothers never talked about what happened. Now, he'd never have the chance to talk to his little brother ever again. No conversations about muscle cars, woodworking, the weather, and so on. Looking back, he should have handled that night better. How? He didn't know. Over ten years later, he still didn't have an explanation for sleeping with Jenny. He felt like a moth to a flame around her. He remembered how stupidly he thought that he'd find Jenny on his doorstep saying she wanted him instead of Nathan. It never happened.
He took the steak off the grill and dumped it onto the plate. He picked up the knife and slowly cut into it, taking a bite and chewing slowly.
Gibbs was halfway through his meal when his phone started ringing. He squinted his eyes at the number and flipped the phone open. "Yeah?" He waited to hear the familiar voice of Jenny.
"Leroy."
He removed the phone from his ear and looked at the number. It was Jenny's cell phone number, but Diane on the other end. Why was ex-wife number one calling him from his sister-in-law's phone?
"Leroy, dammit. I know you're there! Say something instead of breathing into the damn phone."
"What is it, Diane?" he asked, annoyed to be dealing with one of his ex-wives. He heard music in the background. It was loud wherever she was located.
"I didn't know who else to call." She lied. She'd actually thought about calling Tobias, but Gibbs was the better option.
He was silent. Something must be wrong. Diane rarely communicated with him. He couldn't remember the last time he'd spoken to her. His eyebrows rose when he heard sobbing in the background.
"It's Jenny. She," Diane sighed as she looked over at her friend. "She's a mess, Leroy. She's drunk and refuses to leave the bar."
"What the hell is she doing at a bar, Diane?" he growled. "She's a widow!"
"Don't take that tone with me, Leroy! I know more about her than you do. I took her out. I thought it would be good to get her out of the house. A girl's night, ya know." She huffed, annoyed with herself for lack of hindsight. How could she have known the band would cover My Love by Paul McCartney & Wings? As soon as Diane heard it, she knew it would be trouble. The song was Jenny and Nathan's song.
Gibbs shook his head as he listened to Diane. Diane was probably right about knowing Jenny better, but he knew it was too soon for Jenny to be at a bar for a girl's night. Nathan had been gone for five months.
"Di—"
"Why am I even explaining this to you? What do you care? You're too busy being Mr. Woodchuck. Leroy Woodchuck. I'll call someone that cares about her. Just stay in your precious basement," she finished bitterly.
He rubbed his face hard, gritting his teeth. He cared for Jenny. If she needed him, he would be there in a heartbeat. "Diane, where the hell are you?"
She gave him the address and hung up on him. He grabbed his keys and left the house.
He entered the bar and scanned the crowd. He spotted Jenny at the bar as she slammed down a tequila shot. This would be fun. Where the hell was Diane? He wasn't overjoyed with the aspect of seeing her, but she shouldn't have abandoned her best friend. He strode over to Jenny and took her by the arm.
Her head jerked in his direction, and she snatched her arm away from him. "She called you," she surmised as she remembered Diane using her phone.
"Yeah. C'mon," he said gently. He could tell she'd been crying. Her eyeliner was smudged, and her eyes were red. To him, she still looked beautiful. Her little black dress hugged in all the right places, and the neckline showed enough cleavage to get a second look from him. Her hair was loose and curled.
Jenny smirked at him. "Bourbon," she yelled to the bartender and held up two fingers.
"No, Jen."
Diane came out of nowhere. "Jenny! You were supposed to stay at the table. I leave you for two minutes! You've had enough." She didn't think while she was in the bathroom that Jenny would have ordered more drinks. She'd expected to find Jenny still at their table, crying over her dead husband.
Jenny shrugged her shoulders, giving her friend a fleeting look. She grinned and jabbed Gibbs in the middle of his chest with her index finger. "Bourbon or difficult."
Jethro looked at the woman standing in front of him, shaking his head. Was she honestly dictating terms?
"Don't negotiate with drunks."
"Terrorists," she corrected, thanking the bartender for the drinks with a smile. She stuck her finger into the alcohol then put her finger to her lips.
"Same thing," he mumbled, watching as she downed the bourbon.
"Drunks and terrorists are not the same thing, Leroy," Diane said.
"Redheaded drunks are terrorists," Gibbs grumbled and paid no attention to the scowl on Diane's features. The other redhead giggled like an eighth grade schoolgirl and reached for the additional glass of bourbon. Jethro clamped his hand over Jenny's wrist tightly and smirked when her lips pursed in a pout. "No more."
Diane rolled her eyes and put her hands on her hips, looking at her ex-husband. "What's it gonna be, Leroy?"
He answered by lifting Jenny up and throwing her over his shoulder, carrying her out of the establishment. Jenny pounded her fists on his back, yelling to be put down. Diane followed after closing the tab and wasn't surprised he'd decided to go with the difficult option. She knew Jethro liked difficult.
"My car's over…" Diane rolled her eyes as Gibbs turned, walking away in the other direction. "Leroy! You idiot! Where are you going?" she shouted at him.
He walked to his truck, opened the door, and put Jenny inside. He slammed the door as she continued to yell at him. Diane ran over to him. She cut her eyes at him and threw her hand onto her hip. "Put her in my car," Diane ordered.
"Go home, Diane."
"I'll take her home."
"No. You called me. I'll handle her. Go home," he told her firmly and got into the truck, cranking up and driving off.
He drove to Georgetown and carried Jenny into the townhouse. She slid out of his embrace and stood at the base of the stairs. She drunkenly swayed from side to side as she kicked off her stiletto heels.
"Where are the kids?" Jethro asked.
"Sleepovers," she slurred and held onto the rail of the staircase. Joseph was staying with a friend in McLean, and Emmaline was at a friend's that lived down the street. The house was empty except for them.
He nodded his head and turned around to face her after locking the door and activating the security system.
Her green eyes stared at him, and she took a few, short steps to him. She tilted her face up to fully look at him and let her chest press against his. "What are you gonna do? Carry me up, tuck me in, and say goodnight?" she murmured, putting her arms around his neck. She stroked the back of his head. "You'd like that…wouldn't you, Jethro?" Her eyes flickered down to his lips before she kissed him softly.
He let his tongue slide into her mouth. His hands trailed down the smooth fabric of her clingy black dress. He heard a soft moan escape from her. Jenny unzipped his jeans and snaked her hand inside, touching him ever so slightly. He groaned at the feel of her touch, but Nathan's voice echoed in his head. You took advantage of her. Jethro would be taking advantage of her if he slept with her this time. Jenny was inebriated. He shoved her away, shaking his head no. "No," he told her brusquely.
Her senses were dulled from the alcohol, but she felt the sting of rejection. He rejected her. His refusal had slightly sobered her. He could turn her down now, but he couldn't push her away sixteen years ago. "You bastard! You son of a bitch! I'm not good enough now. Is that it?"
"You're drunk," he answered and walked to the door.
She stomped her foot in frustration. She wanted to feel something – anything even if she'd regret it in the morning.
"Fine. Leave. That's just like you. Leave the pieces and don't give a damn about the damage you caused."
What the hell was she talking about? She was weeping in his truck fifteen minutes ago and coming onto him less than five minutes ago. Now, she was pacing around him like he was her prey, or she was about to have a temper tantrum. Maybe both. He rubbed his brow and turned around, staring at her blankly. "Jen."
"Oh, shut up! Don't call me that! I hate that I slept with you. I hate myself still to this day for it," she spat out. "I should hate you, but I don't. I can't. I should thank you."
"Thank me? Thank me for what? An orgasm?"
Jenny laughed hollowly. "Not for that." She waved her hand and unceremoniously flopped down on the bottom stair, putting her face in her hands. "Something else…goddammit," she muttered. Her shoulders slumped, and she sighed heavily.
He sighed and took a few steps towards her, crouching down. He prayed she wouldn't slap him, but maybe the fight was out of her. He pulled her hands away from her face. "Jenny, talk to me," he coaxed.
She looked at him, and he winced at the pain in her eyes. What had she been carrying around all these years? He could almost feel the burden.
Jenny bit her lip and looked away from him. "You gave me the best thing that ever happened to me, Jethro."
"What the hell are you talking about, Jenny? You're not making any damn sense. You need to go to bed. Sleep it off."
She shook her head and swallowed hard, letting the tears roll down her cheeks. She had to tell him. Nathan wasn't here to stop her. Jethro deserved to know. "Emmaline. You gave me Emma," she whispered.
Jethro's chest felt tight. He couldn't breathe. He gave her Emmaline? How did he? Did she mean? No, he couldn't be. It was one time. One damn time.
"Every time I look into her eyes, Jethro…their…she has," her voice splintered, "your eyes. Emma has her father's eyes."
He was Emma's father. His heart felt like it had stopped pounding in his chest, and he drew a deep breath in, staring at the redhead in front of him as she broke into sobs. He heard a noise from upstairs and could have sworn he saw the door to Emma's room close. Gibbs shakily straightened himself and couldn't find the words to say. What could he say? Why hadn't Emmaline's eyes being blue dawned on him before? Was Jenny just rambling nonsense? His gut told him otherwise. He left without a word.
