Disclaimer: Nope. I don't own NCIS.

A/N: So here we are. The very last chapter. I have received a request for a scene which would tie in with this fic and I may wind up writing it, but it would be posted separately. We'll see what my muse decides to do. For now this is the end though. Thanks so much for reading and for all the really wonderful reviews! I have another chapter fic waiting, so I'll probably start posting that in a few days hopefully. Until then though...

One of the first things Brody realized upon waking up was that the pain wasn't nearly as bad as it'd been the last time she'd been awake. It had receded to an all-encompassing ache and she recognized the effects of pain medication almost instantly.

The next thing she noticed, upon forcing her eyes to open, was that she wasn't in the same room as before. Not too surprising. Her memories of what happened were still filled with holes, but she remembered enough to know that her former room was probably more of a crime scene than a hospital room.

As she looked around her new room she smiled lightly at the new 'decorations'. On the bedside table was a flower arrangement with pink peonies circled around a yellow rose and soft purple yarrows spread throughout. It had a little bit of an exotic and meaningful feel to it and Merri guessed that they were from Loretta. Across from the bed on a counter was a short, waterless test tube with artificial sunflowers inside. Next to the vase sat a little stuffed Chewbacca and around its neck was a tiny plastic stethoscope. There was no doubt in her mind who that was from. On the rolling tray near the foot of the bed was a vase full of assorted colored roses and tulips. It looked almost as if the person who chose them hadn't been able to decide what color or kind of flower to get, so they'd just gotten one of each. Next to it was a bouquet of pale pink roses, a single white one in the center, and baby's-breath scattered in-between. Encircling it were several strands of Mardi Gras beads which held a little stuff alligator wearing a top-hat to the flower stems.

"Well look who's awake."

Merri turned her attention from the flowers to the visitor standing in the doorway. "Hey," she greeted. Her voice was grittier than normal and her throat stung when she spoke, but it still wasn't as bad as it'd been before. She started to push herself up, but winced when her side and head protested the movement.

Pride walked fully into the room, a fresh cup of steaming coffee in hand, and moved over to the side of her bed. "Take it easy," he said. "You're not exactly in a position to do cartwheels."

"I'm not aiming for cartwheels, just something other than laying horizontally," she replied. As she pushed herself up Pride put his coffee down and grabbed an extra pillow from a nearby chair, placing it behind her back so she could lean against it. Once more comfortable she gave him a small nod. "Thanks."

"Any time. Feeling alright?"

"I'm fine," she answered automatically. The look on his face told her he saw past it and expected a better answer. "Just a bit sore. My head feels like it's been wedged between a rock and a jackhammer."

"Not quite, but pretty close," Pride replied with a chuckle. "You have a concussion now though. And they had to re-stitch up your side."

She nodded and let her attention drift for a moment. "Shanks is dead?" She vaguely remembered asking before, but couldn't remember getting an answer.

Pride nodded and she could feel him watching her closely. "Yeah."

She was sorry she'd had to do it. She understood all too well what it was like to lose a sibling who meant so much to you. Right after she'd heard that Emily had been killed she'd been furious. The anger had lessened not long afterwards, but she could understand all the same. She almost wished she hadn't had to shoot Aaron Shanks, but another part of her knew it'd had to be done while another little voice whispered something about guilt.

"You were doing your job, you know," Pride continued after a few seconds of silence as she stared unseeingly at the flowers on the tray. "A lot of innocent people could have died."

A hand being placed gently on her shoulder broke her from her rather depressing train of thought and she smiled up at him with as much cheer as she could manage. "I know."

He gave her shoulder a soft, comforting squeeze and let go. "Why don't you try and get some more sleep. You look like you could use it."

"Thanks," she replied dryly. She was tired, but didn't particularly want to sleep. She wasn't the only one who looked like they could use the rest though. "Maybe you should go get some sleep too. What time is it anyway?" she asked, looking around to find a clock of some sort.

"About three."

"In the afternoon?"

"No," Pride answered with a crooked smile. "In the morning."

It was definitely later, or earlier, than she'd thought. She gave him a suspicious look as he sat down in the chair that had once held a pillow. "What are you still doing here? You should be home and sleeping."

He shrugged and reached over to pick up his coffee. "Sleeping here is as good as sleeping at the office. Besides," he continued after a brief pause. "I figured someone should be here when you woke up. The others were here, but I made them leave."

"I think you should have left too. I'm fine," she pointed out. It wouldn't have been the first time she woke up in a strange hospital room on her on. She was accustomed to it actually and perfectly capable of fending for herself. Admittedly though, it was nice to know there were people willing to be there for her. Having people around who obviously cared so much wasn't exactly something she was used to.

Pride only smiled wider. "I'd rather be here. For my own sanity if nothing else."

She wasn't entirely sure what he'd intended for that to mean, but she quickly decided not to read too much into it. Her head still hurt far too much to go there. Instead she rolled her eyes. "Are you at least going to share some of that coffee with me?"

He took a long sip of the warm liquid and pretended to think about it. "I don't think I'm supposed to."

She raised an eyebrow at him with a knowing look. "Has that ever stopped you from doing anything? Ever?"

A look she couldn't quite decipher flashed across his face, but it was gone too quickly for her to tell what it'd meant. He chuckled and shook his head. "If I get you coffee will you at least pretend to sleep afterwards?"

"Maybe."

"Fine," he relented, rolling his eyes as he stood up. "I'll get you coffee. A small coffee."

"Thanks, King," she said as he headed for the door and he waved back in acknowledgement. She watched him go for a moment before settling back into the pillows and trying to get comfortable. As she laid back and closed her eyes for a minute a small smile tugged at the corner of her lips. She wasn't sure why. There was little reason for her smile.

It was better than dwelling on the past though. Far better than allowing guilt or regret to eat away at her as it had done for a while after the Moultrie. And definitely better than allowing thoughts of Marcus Shanks and his brother to resurface. Wading through all those emotional trenches could wait for another day, another sleepless night, when she could better sort through it all with a clear head.

She would sort through it though. Because she wasn't going to run. She was going to stay in New Orleans with her new, dysfunctional family who she had no doubt would have her back anytime she needed it. For the first time in a long time she felt like settling down in one place. And even if she had to live each and every day in the memory of the officers who died on the Moultrie, of Agent Hackett, and of Emily Brody...she would still keep going. After all, some of her past was still worth fighting for.

And her future was definitely worth fighting for.