Purgatory

Chapter 10 - Vision

"Where did you find him?" Rathburn directed his question to the thug named Darrow standing beside him as he looked down at Gibbs lying unconscious on the floor, once again in his cell.

"The beach, about a mile east," Darrow said.

"And you're sure he contacted no one?"

"Pretty sure, boss. He tried to get away in a small pram but he must have fallen out. He was soaked and collapsed on the beach while the motor was running and the boat was way out into the canal."

"How long has he been unconscious?"

"Since we found him, about six hours. I checked about 5 pm to see if he was awake, but he was still out cold." The thug looked at his watch, "that was about four hours ago. He hasn't moved a muscle."

Darrow looked at Rathburn cautiously, "I tried to find you, Boss, as soon as we got him back."

"Yes, yes, I know. I was otherwise occupied. Don't worry, I am quite satisfied with your work on this little project. Good job."

Darrow nodded, but continued his cautious sideways glances at Rathburn. "What now, Boss?"

"I believe it's time to go "all-in", Rathburn said. Did Simons prepare the newspaper articles, videos and web pages?"

"Yeah, he showed me this morning. His stuff is ready to go, Boss."

"Excellent," Rathburn crooned, rubbing his hands together. "And the locket? Do you have it?"

Darrow reached into his pocket and produced a silver cameo locket with a white shell rose mounted on black onyx. "This was a bitch to get. I had to wait until she was in the shower and then sneak into the bathroom and grab it off the counter. I almost got caught." He handed it to Rathburn.

"This should convince Gibbs that he has utterly and completely failed," Rathburn said, a ruthless smile on his lips as he absently turned the locket over and over in his hand.

"This will finally break him," he continued, "and none too soon. I need to know those investigation protocols now in order to avoid making the same mistakes we did with our chemical bomb fiasco in Virginia."

Darrow remained silent, but nodded his understanding.

"Keep your eye on him and get me as soon as he wakes up. Do you understand me? As soon as he wakes up!" Rathburn ordered as they walked out of the cell.

"Sure thing, Boss," Darrow said, as he made doubly sure that he latched the door tight.

Everything was black. There was no sound. There was no pain. The lack of pain caught Gibbs' attention. He blinked and stared harder, but the black remained. He struggled to engage his senses as his mind moved sluggishly, suffused with thick, formless memories and foggy feelings.

What am I doing here? he thought. Where the hell is 'here'?

A soft, lilting voice reached his ears. A woman's voice, singing a sweet, soothing melody. It sounded like a lullaby. The voice was hauntingly familiar. He closed his eyes since there was nothing but black, in order to concentrate harder, listen closer. When he opened them the blackness was gone, replaced everywhere by white; the singing now coming from behind him.

He turned toward the voice and saw a beautiful woman in a flowing white dress, sitting on a slatted bench, also white. He knew she was beautiful, but strangely his mind couldn't distinguish her features other than her eyes. He could see her sitting there, but it was as if he felt her more than saw her. She smiled as he caught her eyes, continuing to hum her song.

She motioned for him to come closer and placed her hand on the bench beside her indicating he should sit. He willed himself to move toward her, not sure if he was walking or floating. As he approached she stopped humming and looked up at him, her smile soft and warm. As he sat down he never looked away from her eyes.

He basked in her presence and a sense of peace spread throughout his body. She was beautiful and warm and gentle … and familiar. His mind struggled - trying to remember how he knew her - while his body remained restful, thankfully free of pain. He felt … content.

"You still don't recognize me, do you, Jethro," her speech was as sweet as her singing.

He shook his head.

"Remember this song," it was a statement, not a question, followed by her humming a few bars of the song she had been singing just a few moments before.

A memory slowly took shape; a specter of thought emerging from a mist. The song was familiar, comforting. A lullaby. A lullaby ... for Kelly. A lullaby that Shannon would sing to Kelly. Although surprised, the calm still embraced him.

"Now you know," she said.

"Yes," he answered.

Although he still couldn't distinguish her features, he recognized her eyes. They were Shannon's eyes, he had no doubt.

She nodded her head.

"I've missed you," he said.

"Oh, Jethro, I've missed you too.

"Where are we?"

"In between," she responded.

"In between life and death?" he asked.

"Yes … and no," she responded, matter-of-factly. "We're just … in between. In between life and death, consciousness and unconsciousness, waking and dreaming, present and past, present and future. Just … in between."

"Can I stay here with you?" he asked.

At his question her eyes saddened. "You can choose to do that, if you want," she said. "But you can choose to stay in the world as well."

"Why would I choose that?"

"Because there people that still need you," she responded.

"Who? Why?" he asked, his mind still foggy and confused.

"All of the people that will die if you give up now. All of the friends that love you. And Erica …," her voice faded off.

"You know about Erica?" he said, his confusion growing.

Her eyes turned happy again, "of course I know about Erica."

"I still love you," he said, gazing into her eyes.

"I know you do," she said. "And you always will. And I will always love you. But it's right for you to love Erica now. She is a beautiful person, Jethro, and she loves you more than you know. I am so happy for you."

"I don't know what to do," he said, looking down at the hands she held clasped in her lap.

"Yes, you do, Jethro. Follow your heart. It brought you to me. It brought you to Erica. Do what will make you happy."

He nodded and as she spoke he felt his mind clear and his confusion fade.

"How do I go back?" he said.

At his question he could feel her joy and see her eyes beaming.

"You're already on the way," she said. "But you can't do it by yourself, Jethro. You're weak and need help."

"Help? But how? Can you help me?"

"No, Jethro, not me. Someone else. Don't worry. Everything is in motion."

"I don't understand," he said.

"You will soon. You'll be OK. I have to go now, Jethro."

She reached up and gently touched his cheek. He raised his hand to touch hers and as he did her body slowly dissolved into a million shimmering points of light, spinning around themselves and twirling up and away. As the sparkling lights disappeared the melody began again, a soft humming permeating the space around him.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw a movement. Turning toward it he spied a petite woman moving toward him. An aura of color radiated off her body. Her smile made the whiteness surrounding him even brighter. His heart swelled in his chest and a glowing warmth radiated deep inside him.

She stopped in front of him, holding out her hands. He hesitated, not wanting her to disappear if he touched her. She smiled and nodded, indicating he should take her hands. Gently reaching out he slid his palms into hers.

"Erica, how can you be here?" his confusion had returned.

Smiling she shook her head, "I don't know, Jethro."

"But you're here, right?" he asked.

"I must be somewhere. I'm here with you. I can feel your love for me. Can you feel my love for you?" she asked.

Closing his eyes he let her aura wash over him, filling him with the same warmth and peace he had felt earlier.

"Yes," he said.

Her face grew somber, her voice pleading, "come back to me, Jethro. I need you more than you know."

"I don't know how. I don't know if I'm strong enough."

"Take my strength," she said, her eyes locked with his.

"How?"

"Touch me."

"I am touching you."

"No, Jethro. I mean touch me."

He hesitated.

"Please, touch me, Jethro."

A sudden pang of fear flared in his mind. What if he couldn't go back? What if he hurt her? What if he pulled her into this place with no way out?

"I need you to touch me," her voice was anxious, insistent. "That's how I can give you my strength. That's how I've always given you my strength."

"I'm afraid you'll disappear," he whispered, "or that I'll trap you here with me.

"I need you to trust me, Jethro. I don't know how or why, but I can feel it – all around me. I know you need to touch me in order to come back to me."

"I don't want to hurt you."

"I know you won't hurt me. Jethro, I might have to go soon, I'm not sure. I don't know how this is happening. Please Jethro, we may not have much time," she was pleading now.

Pushing down the panic rising in his chest he nodded. Still holding her hands he stood and looked down at her.

She stood before him her mind and body open to him. He moved both hands to her face, gently caressing her cheeks, thumbs softly rubbing the corners of her mouth, her lower lip, her chin. Smiling, she closed her eyes and sighed. His fingers and hands tingled, the warm flow of energy moving up his arms, trickling into his shoulders. A feeling sparked to life in his stomach - he recognized his love for her smoldering as it slowly moved into his chest, joining the steady and strong beat of his heart.

His fingers trailed down her neck, mapping the tendons trailing down into her shoulders; stroking her skin as his hands moved slowly down her arms and then, just as slowly, back up. He could feel the warmth of her bare skin under his hands, smooth and soft and familiar. For a heartbeat he realized she wore no clothes; her body was completely revealed to him. But for some reason that was not surprising, not wrong. He felt, more than thought, that in this instant her vulnerability was right, normal.

Her eyes still closed, her smile still present, she hummed softly as he traced her collarbone down toward the center of her chest. His eyes took in the swell of her breasts, while his fingers ghosted over their velvet softness, moving in slow circles, caressing each as she arched into him, a soft sigh escaped her throat. The warmth of her energy crawled further into his chest and stomach; filling him, calming him

She was beautiful - beyond words. Her body was exquisite; supple, softly curved, responsive and alive. She was alive. The energy she shared with him was alive. He could feel it coursing into him now, building strength – her essence moving through him, every cell bathed in light.

As her power pushed through him his focus intensified. His hands now seemed to have a mind of their own as they slid down her sides, exploring her waist, following the curve of her hips, the swell of her thighs, with a need to feel more, to touch more. His right hand moved to her back, rubbed up and down exploring the muscles in her shoulders, his fingers mapping the curve of her spine. His other hand laid on her bare stomach, absorbing the softness of her skin, following her diaphragm as it raised and lowered with her every breath.

Tracing circles on her back he looked at her face again, her eyes still closed. Her occasional soft moans had been replaced by a gravely humming, emanating deep from her throat. He smiled, pleased that it was his love for her that made her feel this way. As he thought of their love a pulse of power surged through him - life force rushing into him, overwhelming his senses, his emotions exploding in his body. The need for her - to engulf her, absorb her – flared white-hot.

The white brilliance surrounding them pulsed, mirroring his heartbeat. Urgently he moved his hand from her stomach to the small of her back and pulled her toward him, trying to erase even a hair's breadth of distance between them. Her felt her hands encircle is waist, pulling him into her with equal intensity. Every cell, every molecule in his body vibrated with energy. She melted into him, became part of him – and he, part of her, until where there had been two, there was only one.

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