A/N: Thanks for the reviews! The flashback from the last chapter is continuing in the parts that are in italics.

Chapter 3

"Jethro, what happened?" she asked, confusion written all over her face, looking up into her husband's worried face.

"You tripped, and fell down the stairs," he replied, his voice soft, too soft. It worried her. And so did the look in his pale blue eyes…

"Director?" Jen looked up from her computer; her tired eyes found Ducky standing in the doorway. She managed to force a tired smile and reached to take off her glasses.

"Dr Mallard, what can I help you with?" she asked as politely as she could, her mind still partly trapped in the past.

"I just thought you should know I just treated your husband," he said, his hand resting lightly on the door handle. Ducky had been the witness at their wedding, and he was also the only one who knew about her and Jethro. She felt her heart sink in her chest at his words.

"What has he gotten himself into now?" she sighed and glanced at the watch, it wasn't even noon.

"He apparently cut himself on one of his tools this morning; he has a nasty looking cut on his left hand. Ziva forced him to come see me," he explained, watching her curiously over the brim of his glasses. Jen's tongue darted out, licked her lips quickly before turning her attention back to Ducky, who was watching her with an intensity she did not like.

"He seemed quite… agitated," he hesitantly began, as though not sure how to approach the matter he wanted to discuss, as he was pretty certain what reaction he'd get from her.

"Really," Jen just said, leaned back and collected her hair up in a ponytail.

"And he seemed rather reluctant to let you know about his little…" he waved his hand, trying to find the appropriate word, "Incident,"

"He did now?" she barely moved a muscle, not as much as raising one of her perfectly shaped eyebrows.

"Yes, tell me, Jennifer," he said, placing both hands on her desk and leaned closer, staring deeply into her eyes and she got an unnerving feeling he could see right through the façade she'd build up to shield her broken heart. It felt as though he knew it all, knew about the misfortune that had struck them earlier in their marriage, knew about the way her husband hid from her in the shadows, knew about the look he'd give her, the look full of blame.

"Are you and Jethro having problems? Marital problems?" his voice was low as he asked, as if he was half-expecting the walls to have ears. She looked down for a brief second, then back up into Ducky's eyes. She was well-trained in forcing smiles that almost looked authentic.

"We're fine, Ducky. Thanks for your concern, but we're just fine," she was well aware of how strained her voice sounded. The eye twitched. Ducky opened his mouth to speak, just then, her phone rang. Ducky gave a brief nod to tell her to answer, not that she really needed his encouragement to dodge being interrogated, he bid her good day, and then he left, gently closing the door behind him. She stared at where he'd just been standing, until the sharp ring of the phone brought her back to reality. She sighed, and went back to work by answering.

The day passed by without further incident, as far as she knew, her husband managed to stay healthy throughout the rest of the day. Though his team didn't go without harm. Tony came up to talk to her, for the second time in two weeks, and perhaps the tenth time in six months, about Gibbs' unusually rude behavior. She'd listened politely, claimed to know nothing about the cause, but yes, promising to have a talk with him. But though she was well aware of why, she could not talk to him, every time she tried, he either went angry or disappeared without a word, she'd hear a loud thump coming from the basement, wondering what he had slammed his fist against this time. She also figured their household had consumed more bourbon just in these six months, than was probably good for them.

Around seven, she was still slumped back in her chair. She took off her glasses and rubbed her tired eyes, it was time to go home. Not something she was looking forward to. She turned off her computer, but remained sitting in her chair. Her eyelids slowly dropped, God she was tired…

Something felt wrong. Really, really wrong. Her hand gripped at her stomach, looking up at her husband's worried face with fear written all over her pale features.

"Jethro, I think something's wrong with the baby…" she gasped as another wave of pain flooded through her body. She heard her husband's distant voice calling out something, she couldn't hear what exactly. Then strong arms scooped her up…

She woke with a gasp, her fingers clutching the arms of the chair compulsively. She panted, placed a hand to her forehead and found she was perspiring. She got suddenly aware of a presence, and her eyes shot up toward the door. Her driver stood there, watching her with concern in his eyes. She carefully avoided meeting his eyes as she went to retrieve her coat, knowing all too well he was here to pick her up, and take her home.

She dreaded coming home, but at the same time, she couldn't help feeling worried. This had gone way too far, she realized. When he was loosing his control and causing himself physical damage, plus about to give his team some psychological damages, she knew this had escalated to a level it never should have reached.

She knew the talk would have to come, sooner or later. She figured sooner sounded much better, to prevent more people getting hurt. This was about the two of them, and she wasn't sure where an honest conversation would lead. Was he already too far away from her to ever be found again? Did he even want her to find him? Her forehead rested against the cool window of the car, tears running in silent streams down her cheeks.

To be continued...