Chapter 10: Nothing left to say but goodbye

He liked being alone.

He had always been a loner.

He preferred it that way.

At least that was what he told himself.

He didn't need people around him to make his life better.

He had a good job.

A job that he was good at.

He had his house.

He had his boat.

And it wasn't that he was alone.

Not really.

He had friends.

Ducky, Abby, Tony and McGee.

People that would notice if he was gone.

So he wasn't alone.

Not really.

He didn't need her in his life.

He had been married several times.

And they had all left him in one way or another.

He had survived.

He was still standing.

But what he refused to admit was the fact that they had all taken a little piece of him with them when they left.

Chipping away at his heart and what was left now he couldn't give away.

She would not move him.

Not affect him.

He had done the right thing after all.

And he always did the right thing.

She acted like nothing had happened.

She was a professional.

She worked cases with Tony and McGee.

He tried to stay as far away from her as possible.

He claimed that it was better that way.

And no one asked.

They were professional towards each other.

But he found himself searching her eyes for something when they spoke to each other.

He told himself that it was her forgiveness he searched for.

Forgiveness for being weak.

Forgiveness for letting things go too far.

But he found none.

She gave him nothing.

So he convinced himself that it was over.

That they had put everything behind them.

But still she haunted him.

Her face invaded his dreams.

He tried to touch her there, in the space between awake and asleep, but she slipped away from him.

Her scent still seemed to hover and soar in the air around him.

And on weak moments his body still seemed to remember the feel of her touch.

So he did what he had to do to erase her from his mind.

She had tilted his world on its axis and he needed to set things right again.

So he worked cases.

He was focused and determined to remove that thing that made him weak and vulnerable.

He would succeed.

He heard the news one morning one month after their encounter on the balcony.

It was just a whisper at first.

Gossip.

And he refused to listen to gossip.

But then he saw the flowers on her desk.

Roses.

And he knew.

He felt it.

When she entered the office that morning he saw the ring.

Her whole eyes sparkled and shone.

It took all his strength to rise from his desk and join the others to congratulate her.

He saw something in her eyes as their eyes met.

Worry.

And he hated himself in that moment.

She was worried about how he would react.

She didn't deserve that.

So he tried to make her feel at ease by giving her one of his rare smiles.

"I'm happy for you, Kate."

She returned his smile and said:

"Thank you, Gibbs."

And then she turned towards Abby to let her examine her ring.

He turned and walked back towards his desk.

As the remaining piece of his heart cracked open inside of his chest.

That night he went to a bar and he drowned himself in cheap whiskey.

He told himself that it had nothing to do with Kate.

Nothing at all.

He just needed a drink.

He needed to steady himself.

Find his center again.

He was such a liar.

He wasn't drunk when he got home that night.

That was the lie he told himself.

He just wanted to feel numb.

It was better that way.

Afterwards he would blame the whiskey.

But the truth was that he knew that it would always end up the way it did, one way or another.

He dialed her number.

She answered almost immediately.

She sounded worried.

"Gibbs. What's wrong?"

He wanted to say something.

Needed to say something.

But his voice failed him.

Maybe he just wanted to hear her voice.

"Gibbs…Are you alright? Has something happened?"

"Kate."

"What's wrong?! Why are you calling?"

"I just…"

"Gibbs…"

He should go.

Let go.

For once in his life he should learn to let things go.

And not try to hold on to things that he couldn't have.

That was never his in the first place.

"Gibbs, are you hurt? Tell me are you hurt?"

She was worried about him.

He should say something.

But that would break their connection and her voice would fade away.

And he wasn't ready.

Not yet.

"Where are you, Gibbs? Tell me where you are?"

He was being cruel.

He knew that.

Playing with her feelings.

He was such a bastard.

But he needed this.

To be able to breathe again.

"Home. I'm home."

"That's it. I'm coming over."

The call ended.

He sat there in the darkness of his living room clutching a phone in one hand and a glass of whiskey in another.