A/n; Here it is, the long awaited 9th chapter of TGS!
Holy mother of all living things, this took forever to crank out.
Read and enjoy!
Disclaimer: Not mine, though I borrow them to write sometimes. :(
9. Cigars and Czechs
Jenny sat back on the couch in her office, enjoying a rare moment of peace in her hectic day. She let out a happy sigh, wiggling her freed toes, glad to have the killer heels off.
Her office door slammed open, making her jump nearly half a foot in the air. "Jethro…honestly, can't you ever knock?"
He merely rolled his eyes in reply, sauntering over to the couch to slump into a seat next to her, his arm slipping around her shoulders and pulling her back against a warm body.
She smiled at the feel of a few gentle kisses pressed to the back of her neck. "Cold cases really that boring, Jethro?"
He grinned against her neck, letting out a vague grunt in answer as he splayed one hand protectively over her abdomen. "How you feelin', Jen?"
"We're just fine, Jethro, no gymnastics. Apparently these little ones are a bit sleepy today." Jenny covered his hand with hers, smiling as she leaned back into his embrace. They both sat, comfortable and relaxed, until a quiet knock on her office door caught their attention.
"Come in." Jenny raised her voice just enough to carry to the door.
Cynthia poked her head through after a moment, making no comment on her boss' current lack of productivity. "Agent Fornell from the FBI here to see you, ma'am. He says he's looking for Agent Gibbs too."
Jenny raised her eyebrows, leaning her head back to look at Gibbs, who shrugged. "Haven't pissed the Bureau off lately, Jen, none of our cases have been connected."
They reluctantly separated as Jenny went to sit behind her desk again, taking the discarded heels with her. "Show him in, Cynthia."
Tobias Fornell sauntered in the office, both hands stuffed in the pockets of his long overcoat. His grey-green eyes flickered over Gibbs sitting on the couch, then over to Jenny behind her desk, a slight smirk tugging at his lips. He turned to Gibbs, fiddling with something in the pocket of his coat. "I hear congratulations are in order, Jethro."
"Hm?" Gibbs tilted his head to the side, deliberately playing dumb.
Fornell's smirk widened as he drew two cigars from his pocket, tossing them unceremoniously on the couch next to Jet. "Em's happy to have a few new cousins to play with. She said she expects an invite to the wedding from Uncle Jethro and Miss Jenny." He smiled slightly, winking at Jenny.
"How did you…" Jenny gave him a blank look, shaking her head after a long moment. "I didn't think we were that obvious."
"You weren't. Emily met a new friend at school. A very nice young man, goes by J.J. He was talking at show and tell about how he was getting some baby brothers or sisters. After finding out his last name was Gibbs and his mum was the Director of a Federal Agency, I extrapolated from there." Fornell eyed Jenny's left hand, taking in the small ring there. "Congratulations."
"Emily goes to Hargrove?"
Fornell nodded, shifting uncomfortably. "It was the only school I was comfortable sending her to, taking my job into account. Emily is in J.J.'s class, apparently."
"Well, then, thank you." Jenny smiled uncertainly back at him, tapping her pen on the desk nervously. "Is there anything else you wanted?"
"I need some help, on a case." Fornell looked over at Gibbs as he spoke.
"You're asking for help?" Jet raised his eyebrows, smirking.
He shrugged, pulling a flash drive out of his pocket. "Crime syndicate. Latest victim is the dependent of a Marine. I…we need some fresh eyes on this, and NCIS is within its rights to join the investigation, considering the status of the latest victim." He handed it over to Jenny, taking a seat in one of the empty chairs.
Jenny plugged the drive into her computer, pulling up the information on the plasma.
Jet stiffened visibly as the first picture came up, revealing a tall, good looking man with an easy smile on his face. Blue-grey eyes stared out of a clean-shaven face, with unruly brown hair falling over his forehead. Gibbs turned to Fornell, his voice a low growl. "Where the hell did you get this?"
Fornell raised his eyebrows slightly at the tone, but plowed on. "Meet Bartholomew James Fisher, Jr…also known as Barty. De facto leader of a Czechian crime syndicate that's been operating on U.S. soil since 1994. Barty Jr. inherited the family business when Daddy Fisher suffered a stroke in '98. He dropped off grid from '99 til about January of 2001, last seen somewhere in Pennsylvania. He and his buddies are back with a drug trafficking ring encompassing three states."
"I know who the hell he is, Tobias. Where the hell did you get this intel?"
"The Agency decided to pass the info off to the Bureau a few months ago. Up until last week, Fisher has been laying relatively low, but we've had three drug-related kills since then. Last one was the daughter of a Gunny, caught in the crossfire between Fisher's group and some members of La Vida Mala. How do you know Barty Fisher?"
His lips twitched in a humorless smirk as he unbuttoned the cuff of his button down, revealing a thin white scar running the length of his forearm. "We've had our differences."
"You…what?"
Gibbs sighed. "J.J. isn't my biological son. Barty Fisher dated a good friend of mine a while back and then ditched. J.J. was the result. I adopted him as my son; I've been the one around as the father figure his whole life. Fisher showed up with his goons when Jake was 2 or 3, and it ended in a knife fight between Fisher and myself. He's got a nice little souvenir from it, too." He shrugged. "Anyways, not relevant. What do you need from us?"
Fornell shrugged helplessly. "A fresh set of eyes? We're not getting anywhere Gibbs, and people are dying."
Jenny glanced over at Jet, inclining her head to the side. "I don't see any problems with a joint op."
Gibbs nodded. "We can take a look, but I'm not promising anything."
"You've got connections in La Vida Mala, Gibbs. That's what we need."
"Ah, El Gordo." Gibbs grinned, reclining back with his hands behind his head. "I'll have McGee look into it."
"Appreciate it. Don't be a stranger, Emily misses her Uncle Jethro, and I'm sure she wouldn't mind getting to spend some time with Jacob."
"I'll give ya a call, Tobias."
Jenny moved back over to the couch as Fornell shut the door, settling back against Jet's torso with a long sigh. "You never said you knew Jake's father."
He smiled humorlessly again, wrapping his arms around her waist. "I don't. He's a dirtbag and a scoundrel, and he's not Jake's father, I am."
She shifted, tilting her head back to meet his eyes. "You know what I meant."
"He tried to come and take Jake back, must've been around the time Barty Sr.'s condition worsened. He needed an heir to the family, and Jake was ready made. I wasn't about to let them take him. That's why Jake speaks Czech."
"So why the sudden re-appearance?"
"I dunno, Jen. It doesn't make sense. Barty Fisher was a gun-runner when I knew him, not a drug dealer."
"So then why is he…" Jenny trailed off as her intercom buzzed. She stood and walked over, hitting the speaker button. "Yes, Cynthia?"
"Director, there's a situation developing over at Hargrove Academy. Agent DiNozzo said to pass on the message, one of his friends in Metro PD called him about Jake."
"Shit." Gibbs was off the couch like a shot, already heading for the door.
"Jethro, stop."
He paused mid step, spinning to glare at Jenny. "What, Jen?"
"I'm stopping you from going off hair-trigger and exacerbating the situation, Jethro. Get your team together, we'll head over and figure out where to go from there."
"What have we got, DiNozzo?"
"Six confirmed hostiles, surrounding the Kindergarten and First Grade wings. The men are speaking a language the interpreter doesn't understand, and they refuse to answer in English. Ziva's over there now running through her fifty or so languages." Tony ran a hand through his hair distractedly, walking alongside Gibbs and Jenny.
Ziva jogged up as Tony finished speaking, shaking her head. "I tried everything I know. They had a minimal response to Russian, which makes me think it's probably something similar."
"Jen, it has to be them. They must've found J again." Jet's hand twitched at his holster. "I can go talk to them."
"Right, talk. You're going to go in there half-cocked, guns blazing and get yourself or a kid killed. We need to negotiate with them. We know Jake and Emily and their classmates are in there, and we've got a fair idea of who their captors are. All we need to do is get them talking." Jenny set a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Jethro, we can get everyone out of this safely. We just need to talk."
"Negotiate? You don't negotiate with Barty Fisher, Jen! Believe me, I've tried. I'm going in." He wrenched his arm out of her grasp, taking a step towards the school when he was blocked again by Jenny's slight form. "Jen…"
"You seem to be laboring under the delusion that you're more stubborn than I am, which we all know is quite untrue. You are going to stay right here and wait while we establish contact with a negotiator and find out what they want." Jenny's eyes flashed with a hidden fire as she drew herself up to her full height, staring Gibbs down impressively.
Jet opened his mouth, closed it, and opened it again, clearly intending to say something, before he shut it again with a distasteful look, stepping back to lean against the NCIS truck. "Fine. One hour, then I'm going in whether they like it or not."
J.J. Gibbs was in trouble. Not the usual trouble, the kind you could get out of if you knew how to talk to Principal Ford right, but the kid of trouble his dad got into at work. People dying trouble.
He and Emily had been sitting at the art station with Max and Theo drawing pictures to go with their stories when those men walked in.
It wasn't like Jake had tried to listen in on their argument with Ms. Kline, he just picked up on the fact that the men were speaking Czech. He muttered something vague about getting better crayons from the cubby-holes at the front of the classroom and slipped away from the art station, ambling his way up to his cubby, cocking an ear to listen to the argument as he pretended to rummage through his cubby for something.
"Tato žena neví nic . Musíme najít toho chlapce . Použít obrázek ." The taller of the two men turned away from Ms. Kline to mutter in his companion's ear. (This woman doesn't know anything. We have to find the boy. Use the picture.)
Jake swallowed, keeping his back turned to the two men as he walked back towards the art station, gripping the scissors he had obtained in his fists hidden under his hoodie.
"You there, boy! Stop! I haf…I have question for you." The tall man spoke sharply, silencing the chatter of Jake's classmates.
Jake froze, still facing away from the men. "Who, me?" He gripped the scissors tighter, listening with all his might for the man's footsteps.
"Ano—I mean, yes, you." The man's voice was much closer now, sounding above Jake's head. "I—we are…we look for boy, name J.J. He is friend of ours, yes?"
"I—I don't know any J.J." Jake stammered out an answer, his shoulders hunched. "C—can I go back to my picture now, mister?"
The other man let out a low growl, walking towards J.J. and the tall man quickly. "Lže ! Nenech ho trik !" (He lies! Do not let him fool you!)
"Whydja say that, Jake? Your name's J.J., sure as my name's Theo!" Theo looked up, his hazel eyes bright with confusion.
Things after that happened very fast. The tall man yelled in anger, reaching out for J.J. Jake spun around on his heel like Tony taught him, the scissors snapping out and plunging deep into the tall man's thigh with a weird squelchy noise. The tall man's friend shouted and pulled a gun out, but J.J. was already sprinting across the room, screaming "Duck!" as he went.
And that was why Jake was now hiding in the recesses of the unused Janitor's closet under the 4th grade wing's stairs. The tall man's friend had tried to chase him but couldn't keep up with the maze like hallways of the Academy. He had apparently called in quite a few more friends, as J.J. could now hear quite a few more loud voices speaking in Czech as they searched the building for him.
He sniffed, hugging his knees uncomfortably as he huddled behind a really, really old desk, probably from when the school opened. He had sort of barricaded the door with another old desk, but there was no guarantee the rickety old thing would hold up. It wasn't like the desk he and Jet built for his bedroom. He sniffed again, reaching up to wipe his nose and grimacing at the crimson blood on his hand. He really wished this closet still had janitor stuff in it, so then he could wash his hand off, but evidently the school was using it to store old desks instead.
He really, really wanted to go home.
"What do you mean, they only want to talk to one person? How in the hell do they know who's here and who isn't?" Jenny frowned at the FBI Negotiator standing in front of her. The man shrugged a little helplessly, gesturing to the phone in his hand.
"Sorry, Director, they said they'd only talk to a Lee Collins?"
Jethro perked up at that, vaulting off the back of the NCIS truck. "Lee Collins? You're sure?"
"Yes sir. They were very specific. They'll only talk to Lee Collins."
Gibbs nodded vaguely, reaching out for the phone. "I'll take care of it."
"Sir—you're not a trained hostage negotiator! I can't just hand over this to you!"
"I'm Lee Collins!"
"Hold on. Can you wait just a moment? I need to talk to him, really quick." Jenny intervened rapidly, stepping between Jethro and the negotiator before things got ugly. She took Gibbs by the arm, leading him a few yards away. "What the hell are you doing? I told you I'd handle this!"
"Jen, they're asking for Lee Collins, I'm trying to follow their demands!"
She threw her hands up, staring at him oddly. "Did you hit your head or something?"
"What? No."
"Then why are you saying that your name's Lee Collins?"
"Because to Barty Fisher and his gang, I am Lee Collins. We had to explain my presence around Sarah and Jake somehow, so we made up a retired Marine uncle come to visit in an effort to scare them off. They're asking for Lee Collins, which means it's Fisher, which means I'm the only one who can do this. Jen…you gotta trust me. I know how to fix this, I promise."
Jenny stared at him a moment longer, nodding sharply. "Alright. You keep me in the loop, though."
Jet nodded, walking back over to the negotiator. "I honestly am Lee Collins, sir. I'm a relative of one of the kids inside the school. They must think I've got something they need."
Jenny walked up next to him, jerking her head in a nod when the negotiator gave her a questioning look. "Do it."
He sighed, throwing up his hands exasperatedly. "Fine. Don't see why you people won't let me do my job. I'm not dealing with the repercussions when they realize you aren't Collins. You're on your own."
Gibbs snatched the phone with a roll of his eyes, snapping it open and dialing the last call received. "To je Lee Collins . Co chceš ?" (This is Lee Collins. What do you want?)
"Collins . Mysleli jsme , že byste sem, potom co se stalo tak hezká." (Collins. We thought you would not come here, after what happened to the pretty one.)
Jet set the phone on speaker, sitting on the bumper of the truck. "Teď jsem tu já . Co chceš ?" (I'm here now. What do you want?)
"Tak tvrdý . Nikdo nic neříká ?" (So blunt. No small talk?) The man on the other end of the line chuckled, continuing after a moment. "Chci toho chlapce . Je to můj syn ." (I want the boy. He's my son.)
Gibbs eyes darkened in anger. "The hell he is!" The repeated chuckle from the phone seemed to enrage him more. "Nikdy nebude váš syn! Nemáš nárok na něj! Seru na tebe!" (He's not your son! You have no claim to him! Fuck you!)
Ziva winced sharply, having grasped enough of the conversation to figure out what Gibbs had said. The team turned back to the phone as the man's voice issued out of it again, ice cold.
"Jestli je chceš dívat takhle , pak . Jednu hodinu . Chci tady ten kluk , nebo začnu zabíjet děti ." (If that is the way you see it, then. One hour. I want the boy here, or I start killing children.) He paused for effect, repeating his threat after a moment. "One hour, Collins, or ti malí (little ones) start coming out in body bags. Your choice."
The line went dead with a sharp click.
"What did he say, Jethro?"
"He…they want Jake, or they start killing kids." Gibbs ran a shaking hand over his face. "I don't get how they don't already have him. He should be at school, and they've got the damn place on lockdown!"
"Maybe he got away?" McGee ventured a suggestion after a long silence, glancing over at Gibbs. "He knows how to fight, if he had the element of surprise or figured out what was going on he could have escaped before they closed off the classroom and hid somewhere."
"I…Jethro, that makes sense. Jake understands Czech, enough that he'd know what was going on as soon as they came looking for him." Jenny glanced over at McGee, then back to Jet, nodding. "You know he's excellent at hiding, he's probably still inside the school, hiding somewhere."
"That doesn't help, we still don't know where he is!" Jet threw up his hands, looking furious. "Not to mention the fact that there's no way in hell I'm even going to consider handing my son off to that bastard!"
Tony saw Jenny's eyes flash in anger and rapidly interceded before things dissolved into an argument again. "Boss, that wasn't what Jenny meant. If we can figure out where Jake's hiding, then we can slip in, get him, and attack the baddies from inside the school."
"DiNozzo, this isn't one of your goddamn movies! This is real life, dammit! You ca-." Gibbs was cut off as Jenny reached over, covering his mouth with her hand.
"He's not looking at it like a movie, it's a valid hostage rescue technique, if you would stop going off hair-trigger long enough to remember your training." Her voice was low and flat, her eyes flickering with a barely withheld temper. "You go off on someone again, and I'm taking you off this case and having you escorted off the scene."
Jet held her gaze for a long pause, the tension evident throughout the group, before he nodded slowly. He stepped back once Jenny released him, sitting on the bumper of the truck again with his arms folded.
"Awkward. Anyways, as I was saying, we need a blueprint of the school to figure out where Mini-Boss is hiding. Then, we slip in the back entrance of the school, find Jake, and take out the perps. Easy." Tony quickly broke the uncomfortable silence over the group, outlining his plan rapidly.
McGee wrangled a blueprint of the school from the FBI, spreading it out on the bumper of the truck. "Hey, wait…where's Boss?"
"What?" Jenny looked over from her conversation with Ziva on the best entry point into the school.
"I—Gibbs is gone, Jenny."
Tony shook his head, looking up from strapping on his vest. "Nonsense. He was right be…hind me." He glanced over his shoulder, letting out a muffled groan. "Son of a bitch."
"We have to stop him. This could turn into a bloodbath if he goes in th—" Jenny was cut off as the negotiator's phone rang out loudly from where it lay forgotten on the back of the truck. "Hello?"
"We are sending the children out. Mr. Collins graciously decided to trade his life for theirs. Do not try anything stupid, or he gets his brains blown all over the wall. You understand me?"
"I…what?"
The low accented voice on the other end of the line broke off into a menacing chuckle. "Your Mr. Collins, he trade himself for ti malí (little ones)…he trade himself for the children. We are sending them out now." The line went dead with a click.
"Jenny?" Tony's voice came to her as if from far away. "Hey, Jenny, why don't you sit down?" Gentle hands gripped her shoulders, and she responded vaguely when the hands led her to a bench nearby. Cool fingers pried the phone out of her hands, and she heard Tony mumbling orders to McGee and Ziva over her bowed head. Suddenly, a worried face with bright hazel eyes interspersed itself into her field of vision. "Jenny?"
"He…they've got Jethro…we…" She couldn't seem to make her brain form a complete sentence.
"I know, it's gonna be okay, Jenny. We've got this. FBI already has all the kids. Nobody's hurt."
"Jethro…"
"I know, Jenny, we'll get him outta this. Trust me. Bossman's done crazier stuff than this before and gotten out without a scratch."
J.J. lifted his head up, listening as the sounds permeating through the air vents changed. Shouting in Czech, and what sounded like a lot of shuffling feet. What was going on?
"Jacob."
He jumped a mile as the cold voice issued through the school's PA system.
"Jacob, I know you can hear me. We have let all of your little friends go. You do not have to hide any longer."
J.J. hugged his knees tighter. If all his friends were safe, then he could ignore the scary man. There wasn't anything they could say that would make him leave this hiding spot.
It was silent for a few minutes, and then there was a low screech as the PA system started up again.
"You still do not want to come out of your hiding spot?" The cold voice laughed. "I have someone here who wants to say hello to you." There was a low rustling sound, and then muffled words followed by a slap.
The next voice that issued from the system made Jake's blood run cold. "Don't listen to him, Jake! You stay where you are! 'Tonio's looking for you, he'll get you ou—" Jet's voice was cut off sharply by something that sounded like a fist hitting flesh, and then a low moan.
The cold man's voice came over the intercom again. "This smetí (filth) who calls himself your father, he gave himself up so I would let your little friends go, boy. If you want to save him, you have five minutes to come to the office. For every ten seconds you are not here…" He paused, and the sounds of fists hitting flesh sounded again, punctuated by restrained moans of pain. "Well, let us just say it will not be pleasant for Mr. Collins here."
The intercom did not click off again, rather broadcasting the sounds of Jet's beating throughout the school. J.J. curled up in a tighter ball, clamping his hands over his ears to try and block out the noise. He was going to stay here, just like Jet said.
Ziva flanked McGee as they crept up to an ill-used service entrance near one of the stairwells at Hargrove, both wary for any sign of the Czech gangsters. Ziva crouched by the doorknob, her lockpicks already halfway on their way to opening the door.
"Zi…" McGee glanced over his shoulder nervously, guarding her back as she picked the lock.
"One moment, Tim. I have just about…got it! We're in."
They slipped in the school quietly, moving along the old back hallway near some of the no longer used janitor supply rooms. McGee stopped dead when a pained moan drifted through the air. "What was that?"
Ziva froze next to him, her brow furrowed. "What was what?"
Tim shushed her with a finger to his lips, cocking an ear. "Listen."
The disembodied moan sounded again, slightly louder. McGee glanced around, his eyes alighting on a small speaker box set in the wall. "It's the sound system."
"Whoever that is, they sound as if they are being tortured." Ziva's eyes scanned the area analytically.
"Probably Boss."
The Israeli nodded absentmindedly, crouching down to examine something on the floor. "Tim…what does this look like to you?" She pulled out her flashlight, muting the beam with the fingers of her hand.
McGee narrowed his eyes, crouching next to her. "Looks like…blood. Blood droplets." He rocked back on his heels, looking around them. "There's a trail. It stops right…there." He ended up pointing at a supply closet door under the stairwell.
Ziva gestured for him to go ahead, holding out her SIG to cover him. He jiggled the doorknob once, then twice, shaking his head. "Something's jammed behind it. Gonna have to pop it." He took a few steps back, hunching forward as he jogged back at the door, hitting it precisely with his shoulder to pop the lock out. "Okay, got it. It's been blocked by an old desk…Jake, you in here?"
There was some muffled shuffling, and then a sniff. "Tim?"
McGee let out a sigh of relief, lowering his gun. "Jake. C'mere, kid. We've been looking all over for you."
Jake scrambled out of the room and into McGee's arms, shaking and crying.
"Shhh…J, it's okay, you're okay buddy." Tim rocked back on his heels in his crouched position, rubbing J.J.'s back slowly to calm him down. "Hey, it's okay buddy."
Jake finally released his death grip on Tim's neck, stepping back. "Did you get Jet?"
McGee ignored the question, seeing the blood all over his hands and the knees of his jeans. "Jake, you're not hurt, are you?"
The boy shook his head, raising a hand as if to scratch his nose before noticing the blood there. "Oh. 'S not mine. I stabbed one of the bad guys to get—" He broke off as a loud shout of pain resounded throughout the school, his face going ghost white. "Jet!"
Ziva reached out and caught him around the waist, stopping Jake from sprinting off. "Whoa there cowboy. Tony and Agent Fornell are trying to rescue Jet. You need to come with us."
"No! No! They've got Jet! I gotta go help Jet!" J.J. struggled furiously in her grip. "The cold man said he'd kill Jet if I don't go to the office! He said I had five minutes to decide and it's almost been five minutes!" His grey eyes were wide and terrified. "We hafta save him!"
"Jake, Tim and I promised Jenny we would find you and bring you to her safe. Tony and Fornell are saving Jet. He'll be okay." Ziva tried to tighten her hold on the increasingly agitated Jake.
Jake twisted furiously, snapping his head back sharply into Ziva's nose, breaking free of her grip and sprinting off towards the office. "No! I hafta go help him! They're gonna kill him."
Ziva groaned lowly, putting a hand up to her nose. She waved off McGee's concern. "Go, Tim! We have to get him!"
Jet spat out a small dribble of blood as Fisher's goons stepped back to take a break from whaling at him, smirking crookedly at the Czech. "Told you Jake wouldn't come."
He sucked in a pained breath, mentally categorizing his injuries. The goons had kicked out his bad knee to get him to talk to Jake over the intercom, and he'd been punched and kicked numerous times after that. He probed at a loose tooth near his lip, frowning. A cut over his eye dripping blood obstructed his vision somewhat on that side, while the other eye was beginning to swell shut. His hands were hog tied behind him, and one of the goons had kicked them squarely into the back of the chair, he could feel a few of them broken.
Fisher eyed him calculatingly, scowling at the PA mike sitting on the table in front of them. Clearly, the broadcast of Collins' beating had done them no good. "And just what do you propose, Mr. Collins?"
"How about you let him go?" Tony spoke up from the side door of the office, flanked by Tobias Fornell.
"And why would I do that? He makes an excellent bargaining chip." Fisher smiled dangerously, cutting the ties holding Gibbs to the chair and dragging him to his feet, a sharp edged K-Bar held across his throat while one of the goons aimed a gun at Jet's head. The Czech and Gibbs did a sort of comical half shuffle walk backwards out of the office, while the remaining goon tried to keep Tony and Fornell at bay.
"Let him go, Fisher. We've already located Jake, he's safe and sound, and you're not getting him. Let Collins go." Tony ignored the goon pointing a gun in his face, keeping his gun trained steadily on Fisher.
"No, I don't think I will." Fisher grinned rather maliciously, continuing to drag Gibbs out into the spacious hallway.
"You leave my dad alone!" A shout resounded from just down the hall. Jake ran straight for Fisher, lunging for his legs.
The goon holding the gun on Gibbs dropped his aim, bulling into Jake in a hard tackle that sent both of them crashing into the wall. The gun skated out of his hand and down the hall, where McGee trapped it with a foot.
"Jake!" Gibbs hunched down slightly, bulling his head up and back into Fisher's face as he saw his son hit the wall and crumple into a heap. Fisher shouted in pain, the knife dropping from his hand.
Two gunshots rang out in quick succession. Fisher slumped to the floor with a shoulder wound, while his goon crumpled to the floor with a headshot. McGee subdued the third goon, woozy with a lump on his head from his recent contact with the brick wall.
Gibbs was already sinking to his knees next to Jake's prone form, struggling with the ties that held his hands behind his back. "Jake! No…no no no… don't do this to me, Jake…wake up, please wake up."
Tony left Fornell to restrain Fisher, kneeling at his boss' side and pulling out his camp knife with a snick, cutting the bonds. "C'mon, Pintsize, wake up."
Jet pulled his hands free almost before Tony finished cutting the bonds, patting down Jake, checking for injuries. "Jake, please wake up. C'mon…wake up, Jake." Tears shone in his good eye. "Jake..." He cradled his son's head to his chest, patting his face, arms, trying to wake him up.
"Nasty concussion and a dislocated shoulder from his one-way trip into the wall. Your son will be fine in a week or so. His father, on the other hand…mild concussion, probably from repeated hits to the head, multiple lacerations and contusions, and a few fractured ribs and broken fingers. He'll be back to his grumpy self in no time." Dr. Brad Pitt gave Jenny a reassuring smile.
"When will Jake wake up?"
The doctor frowned, glancing down at his watch. "If everything is as alright as the CT scan shows, in about an hour. His body merely set itself on a sort of 'auto-pilot' to protect itself from brain trauma. He'll be just fine, ma'am."
Jenny nodded, running a shaky hand through her hair. "Where are they?"
"We gave your husband a mild sedative to stitch him up, so we put them in the same recovery room. 104, right down this hall and to the left." He smiled. "Shall I tell your ah… extended family in the waiting room?"
Jenny smiled halfheartedly, nodding absently. "Yes, thank you. Can you ask them to give me a few minutes, though?"
He nodded. "Ten minutes. And we'll ah…just, give you a little leeway with the visitor limit, hm?"
She nodded absently, already walking to the hospital room. The sight of her husband attempting to disentangle himself from the IV's in his arm brought a faint smile to her face. "Jethro…you're supposed to be sedated."
He froze, looking for all the world like a small child with his hand caught in the cookie jar. "I…I wanted to check on Jake."
"Mmmhm. Get back in that bed." Jenny gave him a gentle nudge back to his bed. "You have a concussion, you need to rest."
"But…Jake." Jet gestured helplessly at the prone boy in the bed next to him.
"He's fine. Rather nasty concussion and a dislocated shoulder from his heroic save-the-day charge. Wonder who he learned that from?" She gave Jet an admonishing look.
"I…um, no idea."
"Huh. Go figure." Jenny dragged a chair in between their beds, relaxing back with a sigh. Her eyes flickered over first Jake and then Jet's bodies, checking for injuries. She frowned at the bruises and cuts on Jet, shaking her head. "You know you wouldn't be tied down in a hospital bed if you hadn't gone in with all guns blazing like I told you not to."
He had the grace to look faintly embarrassed. "I…I figured I was a higher value target. I just wanted to get those kids out of there."
"And the fact that you nearly gave me a heart attack?"
"I—I'm sorry." He looked up at her, blinking through tears. "I—I can't lose…you and Jake, you're all I have. You're my family. I couldn't have another…I can't lose you like Shan and Kel."
"You aren't going to lose us, Jethro!" Jenny leaned forward, gripping his good hand tightly in hers. "You can't wrap us all in bubble wrap. Jethro, things are going to happen, you know that as well as I do. But we'll always be here. I promise."
The stirring of the third occupant of the room broke both of their concentration. "Jake?"
"Mmmm…hurts." Jake blinked his eyes open and promptly shut them again, his face screwed up in pain.
Jenny squeezed Jet's hand and moved to Jake's side, stroking her hand gently through his hair. "Where's it hurt, honey?"
"Shoulder…too bright…head hurts too."
"You dislocated your shoulder, J. It's gonna hurt for a few days, the doc had to pop it back in place." Jenny soothed him with a light kiss on his forehead, keeping her fingers running through his hair. "The doctor will be here in just a minute, and he'll give you something for the pain, okay?"
"M'kay." Jake almost seemed to drift off again, blinking his grey eyes open at the last minute. "Jet? 'S Dad okay?"
"I'm right here, J." Gibbs spoke up from his bed.
"Saved Dad." Jake trailed off into more sleepy mumbles, lulled back into a light doze.
Two Days Later
"Mom, this thing itches." Jake frowned unhappily at the stiff sling his shoulder was in, fiddling around with the strap around his neck.
"Don't mess with it, J." Jenny pushed his hands away, sitting on the edge of his bed.
"But…"
"Listen to your mom, Jake." Jet walked up behind her, his own hand encased in a light cast. The worst of his cuts had stitches, but most of his bruises were already beginning to heal. "Don't mess with it."
J.J. scowled, deciding that arguing was not worth his time. "Can I leave?"
"Always so eager to leave us!" Dr. Pitt walked through the door, tutting lightly. "Must be my engaging personality."
Jake smiled at the ER doctor, rolling his eyes goodnaturedly. "So can I go home, Dr. Brad?"
Pitt paused by his bedside, lifting his thumb and index finger to his chin in a comical pantomime of someone thinking. "Well…your CT scans are clear, and as long as you wear that sling, I don't see a problem with it. You'll have to come back for physical therapy to make sure your shoulder heals properly, but other than that, I think you can go home."
"Yay!" Jake grinned happily, scrambling out of the bed and waiting impatiently by the door while Jenny signed the discharge papers. "C'mon, I wanna go home, Mom!"
"Coming, coming…" Jenny laughed, signing off on the last paper with a flourish. "Well, hopefully we won't be dropping back by here anytime soon." She turned and gave Jet a threatening look as they walked out of the room after Jake.
The ringing of the doorbell sounded into the living room of the Gibbs home. Jet stood from his seat on the couch. "I'll get it. Probably Abs and the team."
He opened the door slowly, giving a quizzical glance to the three people standing outside. "Tobias."
"Jethro." Fornell bit back a smirk, standing with his hands on Emily's shoulders.
"Diane." The half smile on Gibbs' face faltered slightly.
The redhead's lips twisted in a minute smile. "Emily wanted to come by and make sure Uncle Gibbs and Jake were okay."
"Right." Jet stepped back. "Uh…come on in."
"Hey Uncle Jethro!" Emily hugged his legs tightly as she passed. "Daddy says you look like a meatpacker went after your face. What's a meatpacker?"
"Um…why don't you ask your mum, Em?" Gibbs raised his eyebrow at a smirking Fornell as he passed. "You brought the whole family?"
Fornell shrugged absently. "Diane and I are…trying this again, for Em."
"Huh. You tell me how that one works out. I'm not bein' best man again."
"Are we quite finished talking about me?" Diane stood next to her daughter, her hands on her hips.
"Where's Jake?"
"Ah, right through here. In the living room." He gestured rather weakly, making his way to the living room. "Er…Jen, J, we've got some visitors."
"Jake!" Emily ran past him to Jake sitting on the floor in front of the TV, giving her friend a half hug. "Daddy said you beat up two bad guys!'
Jake flushed red to the roots of his hair, fiddling with his sling absently as he stared at the floor. "Oh. Yeah. I, uh…I stabbed the tall man in Ms. Kline's room, and then I sorta got tackled by one tryin' to save Dad."
Their conversation receded into the background as Jenny stood from her seat on the couch, glancing quizzically between Gibbs, Fornell, and Diane.
"Diane. What a pleasant surprise."
"Jenny." Diane smiled faintly. "I see you've finally domesticated Jethro."
Her lips twitched in a half smirk. "No…not exactly. He still leaves the seat up on the toilet."
"Mmm."
Both redheads turned to find the two men watching them warily.
Jenny broke the silence. "What?"
Fornell shrugged. "Nothing. You look good, Jenny."
"When are you due?" Diane glanced over at Jenny interestedly, gesturing to the slight bump evident.
"Early October."
"Huh. Well, congratulations." The redhead shifted her bag on her shoulder, evidently ready to go. "Oh, and Jethro?"
"Huh?"
"Don't mess this one up. I have a feeling that Tobias, Emily, and I would be the least of your worries if you hurt her."
"That was nice of them to stop by." Jenny relaxed back into Jet's comfortable embrace on the couch a while later.
"Mmhmm."
Jake had long since disappeared upstairs to play in his room with Gambit, leaving the two of them alone.
"Can't believe Fornell and Diane are trying at a relationship again."
Gibbs shrugged. "Tobias said they were trying for Emily."
"Mmhmm." She leaned her head back against his chest, her eyes closed. "She's a cute kid."
"Jen, we're not setting her and Jake up. I'm not doing some arranged marriage."
"What? I just said they're cute together."
"Yeah, and then next you and Diane will be planning weddings and picking out tablecloth colors. No."
She sighed, rolling her eyes. "Fine. I still think they're adorable."
"Yeah, and I think Jake will physically die from embarrassment if you actually tell him that. Right now, he thinks girls have cooties."
"Okay, okay, no arranged marriage for now. But if they're still cute together when they're 20 or so, you can't hold me responsible for my actions."
A/n: Wow, that was long.
Apparently, that little oneshot I wrote today helped break through my writers block.
Translations for the Czech parts are in parentheses.
Review, please!
-meg
