Plot Synopsis: There's some Irish Catholic, some wild Lizzy, about seven kids (and Gibbs doesn't know ANY of their names), a new puppy, an unburdened Jenny, and two successful Gibblets - The Gibbs family, and all its new additions, recovers - an epilogue.
Recovery
December 2020/January 2021
Leroy Jethro Gibbs lay in bed that morning enjoying complete peace and quiet while his wife slept beside him. This was the last day for about two weeks that wouldn't be filled with chaos and noise and people and – general mayhem, he expected. Despite how much he growled and griped about the oncoming influx of people, his wife and everyone who knew him saw right through the gruff exterior and knew he couldn't wait for the house to be full again – really, really full.
Gibbs shifted gingerly, turning on his side a little to watch her sleep; the movement woke the young dog sleeping at the edge of the bed. She perked her head up, stared at Gibbs intuitively, and then thumped her tail a few times – and he knew he was busted; she'd seen him awake, and there was no going back to sleep.
The dog got up and crept over, whining cheerily. Jenny opened her eyes lazily, glancing at the dog and then up at Gibbs. She yawned, pushed her hair back and sighed.
"What time is it?" she asked sleepily.
"Doomsday," he retorted darkly – the same faux moody, jesting tone he'd been using since everything had been arranged.
Jenny laughed.
"How many hours, Jethro?" she asked. "I know you're counting."
He turned and checked the clock on the table.
"Ten and a half," he said promptly.
Ten and a half hours – ten and a half hours until both of his daughters were home for a holiday – a feat that had not been accomplished since Elizabeth went off to college – ten and a half hours until he had to have a huge New Year's Eve feast ready, the entire house kid-proofed for about five different age groups, and the dog halfway prepared for a veritable army to come pouring through the door.
He'd been bitching about everything that had to be done for a month, but he'd been counting down the days for about half a year.
Jenny rose up on her elbows and yawned again, shaking off sleep.
"I guess we better get to work," she murmured.
Gibbs reached for her and pulled her close, pressing his nose to her cheek. He inhaled deeply, breathing her in, and held her for a moment, prolonging the utter quiet a little longer – Kelly and Elizabeth had been out of the house for so long that he was more than used to just himself and Jenny, and he'd never thought he'd get used to it.
Jenny snuggled up to him and sighed contently.
"You decide what to do about the kids?" she asked lightly.
"Kelly said it doesn't matter if the boys and the girls are in the same room," Gibbs muttered.
"Sure, they're all still little," Jenny agreed.
"'M gonna turn the basement into a bungalow," Gibbs growled.
"Will it be warm enough?"
"Yeah, it's insulated," Gibbs grunted. "Bought two space heaters."
"Then Kelly and Eric," Jenny began, referring to Kelly's husband of nine years, "in Kelly's old bedroom, and Elizabeth and her Sam in Lizzie's old room?"
Gibbs nodded affirmatively. He turned is head and gave Jenny a suspicious look.
"Is Sam short for Samantha, you think?" he asked, for what was probably the ten thousandth time.
Jenny laughed.
"I don't know, Jethro, she just calls him 'my Sam,'" she said. "Or, her," she added, as an afterthought.
She didn't bother telling Gibbs she was pretty sure Sam was male, because the only sex Elizabeth had ever mentioned sleeping with were men, but it was funnier to watch Gibbs agonize – he'd gotten it into his head that because Lizzy was so liberal, and so progressive, and so Berkeley, she had to be hiding something "alternative" from them.
"I wouldn't care," he said, glaring at Jenny.
"Then why are you caring right now?" she teased.
He grumbled a little, and shrugged. He just hadn't known Elizabeth was bringing someone home until two weeks ago – Elizabeth had never brought anyone home, not since she was in high school. Elizabeth came home even less than Kelly, which was saying something - -since California was a hell of a lot closer than Dublin.
"I thought when Lizzy and her Sam leave, we'll move Kelly's youngest into that room, so they're closer. But I think the baby will sleep with them."
Gibbs made another gruff noise.
"We could just rent out a damn circus tent."
"Jethro."
Jenny laughed, and nudged is shoulder with her nose hard, shaking her head at him.
"Why does she have so many?" he whined good-naturedly.
"Why are you surprised?" countered Jenny, amused. "You said she told you she wanted five."
"I thought she was kidding," groused Gibbs, "and six is more than five."
"They have seven."
Gibbs turned and glared at her, outraged.
"I missed one?" he asked, eyes narrowed.
Jenny rolled her eyes at him, and sat up, hair falling down her back. She tilted her head.
"You didn't miss one," she snorted. "Remember? You asked her if she'd ever considered getting spayed when she got pregnant again."
"How'm I s'pose to know when Kelly's pregnant with a new one, she's always pregnant," Gibbs muttered. "She went to fancy expensive schools like a modern woman and then married back into the eighteen hundreds."
Jenny pushed her hand back through her hair, smiling.
"You love all of them," she pointed out.
"You love all of them," retorted Gibbs. "I don't even know their names – what are they, Liesl, Friedrich, Brigitta – "
Jenny lunged forward and shoved him gently, sprawling over his chest and covering his mouth.
"Got 'em mixed up with the Von Trapps, I'm afraid," she snickered. She removed her hand and kissed him, running her hand through his short hair. "Brigitta was close, though."
"How old is Bridgette now?" Gibbs grunted lazily, remembering his second granddaughter.
"Six," Jenny answered immediately.
"Eva?"
"Aoife," Jenny corrected.
"Eva?" Gibbs repeated stubbornly – he was perpetually annoyed by Kelly's decision to stick with traditional Irish names, in honor of her husband, and when he'd been told his oldest granddaughter's Aoifa – pronounced Ee-fah – was the Irish form of Eva, he'd refused to call her anything else.
"Seven," sighed Jenny. "Need me to go down the list?"
"Nah," Gibbs drawled. "I'll just call 'em – Doc, Grumpy, Sleepy, Happy – or, well, better stick with the holiday cheer – Dasher, Dancer, Prancer, Blitzen – "
Jenny rolled her eyes and dragged herself up, yanking the covers off of her husband as she did and clicking her tongue at the dog. She hopped off the bed eagerly and followed her mistress, ready to start the day.
"When you've finished your comedy routine, come get some breakfast," Jenny suggested wryly.
She patted her leg, and clicked her tongue again.
"Come on, Trinity," she coaxed the dog – Trinity was about two years old, an Irish Setter that Kelly had given them the last time they visited her and her family in Ireland.
Gibbs sat up and watched the dog follow Jenny out of the master bedroom. He sat for a moment, staring out the door, and then he looked at the clock – down to ten hours and fifteen minutes; ten hours and fifteen minutes until the best kind of hell broke loose.
Checking her watch, Jenny ventured down the basement stairs to see how Gibbs was coming along - she'd just made sure all the sheets were clean, and there were an abundance of towels and other sort of household items for use – and found herself staggered by the transformation the basement had made.
It looked like a childhood wonderland, like some sort of magical pillow fort.
"Jethro," she laughed. "You acted like this was going to be such a chore – you're having the time of your life!"
He shrugged, stepping back and beckoning her down. He leaned against his cabinets and took a drink of bourbon from a Mason jar, holding out the glass to her. She took it, coming to lean next to him, and took a comfortable sip – she drank occasionally now, now that she was so in control of herself and her life that bad days were barely even yearly, and dark days seemed to be miles in the rearview.
Gibbs grunted and gestured at the massive fort – the little air mattresses and sleeping bags – a sort of fairytale bunker, almost.
"Haven't built a fort down here since," he paused, whistling quietly, "since before Elizabeth was born," he remembered – he said it in disbelief, trying to resolve that fact with the fact that Elizabeth was twenty-seven as of last month, and Kelly – Kelly was thirty-two.
Jenny rubbed his arm gently and handed back his glass.
"Never built one with Lizzy?" she asked.
Gibbs shrugged.
"I think Kelly and her built 'em, in their rooms," he said gruffly. "Lizzy was a newborn when I left for Kuwait, and then Shannon died, and then," he trailed off, shrugging. "Pillow forts didn't spring up so easily," he muttered, almost metaphorically.
"They do now," Jenny pointed out, glancing at the masterpiece. "Good God," she praised again, "Those kids are never going to want to leave!"
"They damn well better!" groused Gibbs. "They got a fancy palace up in Maryland to move their asses into – "
Jenny elbowed Gibbs with a good-naturedly roll of her eyes. Kelly and Elizabeth were both coming home for the New Year's Eve holiday – and Elizabeth had even been home briefly at Thanksgiving - but Kelly and her family were staying for two weeks while the former owners of their new house completely vacated. The end of their lease in Dublin hadn't quiet coincided with the final purchase in the U.S.
Jenny, eager to have children around – lots of children – had told them it was fine if they stayed here, instead of renting a cramped place for fourteen days. Gibbs was much more pleased than he let on.
"Hey," Gibbs grunted. "We gonna let Elizabeth and her Sam sleep in the same room?"
"We already established this at least ten times," Jenny murmured patiently. "She's an adult, she's twenty-seven, it's easier that way – et cetera, et cetera."
Gibbs muttered to himself.
"She wouldn't tell you if Sam was a boy or a girl?" he asked again.
"I didn't really ask," Jenny answered, exasperated. "I assumed it was a he, until you and Kelly started making your softball jokes," she said, elbowing him. "And Lizzy never even played softball."
"Doesn't mean she ain't pitchin' for the other team," Gibbs muttered.
"Leroy Jethro – "
"I already said I wouldn't care!" he interrupted loudly.
He was silent for a moment, and then snorted derisively.
"We even got anything for Lizzy to eat?"
Jenny smirked.
"I have plans for her meal, yes," she answered. "I've got some great recipes; you may even like them – "
"I eat like a man."
"Well, Lizzy isn't a man."
"I raised her better than that – she was born in ninety, not sixty – "
"Jethro, will you relax?" Jenny asked, rolling her eyes. "She's a vegan, not an axe murderer."
Gibbs fell silent again. He stared at his fort; he took a sip of whiskey.
"Which one of Kelly's kids doesn't eat chocolate?" he asked.
"When are you going to stop acting like you don't know her kids?"
Gibbs gave his wife a very serious look.
"I'm gettin' old, Jen," he told her in a blunt voice, "if she wanted me to keep track of a herd, she shouldn't have moved to Dublin."
"Then we wouldn't have had so many trips to Ireland," Jenny countered smoothly.
They hadn't been able to get over much, but they had made time to go as often as they could. Kelly and her husband, Eric, had moved to Dublin four years ago when he received an offer to do his post-graduate work at Trinity College, and work in international adoption law and religious ethics for a new committee designed to correct the wrongs of the early nineteenth century Irish Catholic adoption system. Kelly had at that time been finished with practical study in her doctorate – she'd been at Johns Hopkins – and had only to write her dissertation, which she decided she could do from anywhere. She'd searched for, and found, a lucrative job doing chemical research for an international medical company, and she'd packed up her three kids and off they'd gone.
Jenny and Gibbs had managed to get over there for two Christmases, on Summer holiday, and to meet every kid she'd had since the move – except one.
"I got grandkids I haven't even met," brooded Gibbs.
"We have one we haven't met."
"I thought there were two little ones."
"Well, there's three little ones, but only one tiny one."
"Jen, I'm confused."
She laughed at him.
"I don't have any trouble with this, Jethro – "
"What's the new one's name?"
"Fiona."
Gibbs stared at her.
"I thought they named the youngest after you!"
"Fiona Jennifer," Jenny retorted proudly. "She's four months tomorrow."
Gibbs sighed dramatically. He made like he was taking a forlorn sip of whiskey, but he grinned inadvertently into the glass. He had seen pictures, of course – Kelly was very good about keeping in touch – but even with so many kids, there was something that never got old about holding a grandchild.
"When's the last time we were in Ireland?" he asked vaguely. "When - ?"
"The twins had just been born," Jenny murmured. "You threw a fit in the airport."
Gibbs gave her a serious look.
"Justified," he grunted.
He kept glaring.
"They couldn't just name it Eleanor – "
"Irish names, Jethro!" Jenny reminded him.
He shrugged.
"You're gonna have to remind me."
"Eilinora," Jenny said promptly.
"Eleanor," Gibbs repeated, deadpan.
"Eye-lah," Jenny started, and then broke off. "They call her Nora anyway; it doesn't matter."
Gibbs reached out his arm and wrapped it around Jenny. He sneaked a peak at her watch – about three more hours. He stood in silence for a moment, staring at the pillow fort that would be his grandkids' home for a little while – he sometimes still thought it was a miracle it had all turned out like this, but he never looked that gift horse in the mouth.
"Jen," he said loudly – in mock seriousness. "You think she's doing it on purpose?"
"What?" Jenny asked, genuinely taken aback.
Gibbs shrugged, and shot her a sideways glance.
"Getting pregnant – "
"Jethro!"
Jenny elbowed him hard.
"I swear to God – "
He laughed smugly, and pulled her close for a kiss on the cheek – Jenny was happier with every single happy kid Kelly had, and with every single successful and happy year Elizabeth had, and all of that – Kelly, Liz, and Jen – was enough for him.
Trinity the Irish Setter began howling at the door, and Jenny materialized out of the kitchen, pushing her hair back excitedly. It felt like a thousand years since she'd last seen Kelly's family, even if it had only been about eighteen months.
She heard Gibbs creaking up the stairs, feigning calm, and the door opened and Kelly burst through it, quickly holding it open to usher several children through the door.
"Jenny!" she cried, breathless, her cheeks red. "Aoife – Connor you're trampling your brother, hold his hand – Eric!"
Her husband immediately grabbed the oldest boy by the scruff of the neck and sat him away from another little boy, while managing to balance and infant car seat in one hand.
"I haven't seen snow in forever!" Kelly cried.
Jenny was nearly tackled by two little girls who looked just like their father – except for the Gibbs eyes.
"Nenna!" They shrieked excitedly – derived from all the 'Ns' in her name.
Jenny crouched down to hug them tightly – Aoife Shannon and Bridgette Joanne were Kelly's oldest, seven and six respectively. They both had long, dark brunette hair like their fathers and sharp, petite little noses.
They, of course, remembered Jenny and Gibbs the best, and the moment Gibbs appeared around the corner, they let out squeals and ran to him – making room for Kelly's next two to dash at Jenny.
"Connor!" Kelly barked again, exasperated. "Don't drag him – and Danny, come on, son, try to walk," she rolled her eyes, helping two others and her husband in the house.
Jenny stayed in her crouched position to give the next two, Connor Leroy and Daniel Gibbs, just as much affection before she passed them to Gibbs and rushed forward to help Kelly with the two-year-old twins while Eric Tanner shut the door and locked out the cold.
Kelly hugged Jenny tightly, even while Jenny was sweeping down to peer at the barely toddling little girls.
"Look at you two!" she cooed. "The last time I saw you, you were babies!"
The toddlers – Erin Elizabeth and Eilinora Abigail – stared at her hesitantly – and the older one, called 'Nora' affectionately, grinned. Jenny swept her up and kissed her, and then did the same to her identical sister.
"I don't even know if I can tell you apart?"
"Are those yours?" Gibbs drawled, deadpan. He nodded at the twins – he had Daniel, three-years-old, up on his shoulders already. The little boy looked bewildered, but amused.
"Mam, Gunny called me Eva again!" Aoife burst out, giggling.
"He called me Bethany – he didn't even get it a little right – "
"Mam, why does he get Connor right, I'm way cuter than Connor – "
"Who the hell is Mam?" Gibbs asked, fighting through the chaos to welcome his daughter.
"They picked up some Irish," Kelly murmured, reaching out to hug him – careful not to step on any little feet. "Can't you hear it – you have got to hear Connor and Daniel talk, they're the thickest – they'll lose it now, but for a few precious months – here, Eric, give me …" Kelly trailed off.
She took of her coat and then adeptly took the infant car seat from her husband, giving him a free hand. Eric Tanner then reached out to shake Gibbs' hand, and gave him a one-armed, masculine hug.
"Good to see you again, Jethro," he said sincerely.
Gibbs nodded, and clapped Eric on the shoulder.
"She managed to get another one out of you," he accused.
"Hey, man, I just got to put 'em in – "
Gibbs gave him a glare, and Kelly laughed – she somehow had the infant out of her car seat already, and Jenny was swarming around.
"How did she do on the plane – oh, she's gorgeous!" Jenny cooed, taking the baby in her arms.
"She was okay," Eric said. He shot a look down at a two-year-old. "Better than Nora," he added.
Nora covered her ears and giggled, sitting down at his feet.
"Gunny, Danny and Erin slept the whole way - eight whole hours!" Aoife piped up smugly. "Mam says we can all stay up until midnight – except Fee!"
"Who's Fee?" Gibbs asked, feigning ignorance.
He was met by loud giggles from the oldest girls.
"Fiona, the baby!" Bridgette said, putting her hands on her hips. "Can you say Fiona?"
"Felicity?"
"No, Gunny!" howled Connor, smacking his forehead.
"It's okay," Bridgette said hastily. "We all call her Fee, or Fin – Danny calls her Fin – you can do that, and you can call me Biddy, Daddy does, it's easier!"
Gibbs pushed her hair back and smiled at her – Bridgette reminded him most of Kelly; she was smart, earnest, eager to help – only loud if she felt she absolutely had to be. He didn't have favorites - but he did like to pin traits on the kids, and Bridgette was a Kelly – just like Aoife was an Elizabeth.
Kelly was taking Fiona from Jenny's hands and placing her into Gibbs'.
"More blue eyes, Daddy – seven kids, and Eric's green ones just can't win," she said, watching him watch the newborn.
"Why did you have seven again?" Gibbs demanded, giving her an affectionate glare.
Kelly shrugged, and beamed.
"I married Irish."
"Yeah, an Irish atheist," muttered Eric, snorting good-naturedly – he shared an amused look with his father-in-law, and then laughed. "She thought six was unlucky."
"I wanted five, remember?" Kelly said.
"I remember."
"Well, then the fifth was twins, and seven is a sacred number," Gibbs heaved a sigh, and thought about Elizabeth's unholy reaction to that one, "and I'm raising them Catholic for Eric's Irish family, so I just stayed off the birth control and – "
"I got it," Gibbs said hastily.
"You sure, Daddy?"
"Kel, tell 'im why we're done," snorted Eric, crossing his arms.
He tapped his foot a little, and Nora, who was still sitting on it, giggled, and quickly dragged her twin down to take his other shoe. He started tapping both feet, giving them a little ride.
Kelly laughed.
"You know their names – Irish, starting with A, going down the alphabet," she said.
"Didn't notice," Gibbs deadpanned, looking down at baby F, sleeping in his arms.
Kelly rolled her eyes, and continued.
"Eric and I don't like any Irish names that start with 'G' – male or female," Kelly giggled, "so I'm done."
Gibbs gave her a skeptical look – he'd believe that when he saw it, considering he vaguely remembered Kelly telling him she was done after Connor, and Connor was baby number three.
She had, rather epically, changed her mind.
Kelly shrugged.
"We can afford them," she said good-naturedly, as Jenny stole Fiona away from Gibbs, and went off with Aoife to the living room – Bridgette followed, leading Danny by the hand and introducing him to the dog. "Why not?"
Gibbs gave her a benign look, and reached out to hug her again. Eric bent down to nudge the twins up, and Gibbs kissed Kelly on the forehead, smiling at her proudly.
"Why not?" he repeated gruffly, keeping his arm around her and leading her into the house.
"When is Lizzy getting here?" Kelly asked eagerly.
Eric laughed.
"I thought it was quiet around here," he joked, sitting down near Jenny and wrangling up the twins.
"Her flight's delayed; she's getting in with her Sam soon," Jenny said.
"Anyone ever figure out if Sam was – "
"No," Gibbs said immediately, conspiring with Kelly. "But Jen's making me let them sleep in the same room."
"Well, if it's a girl, at least she won't get knocked up."
Gibbs glared at Kelly, and Kelly arched a brow smugly.
"Mam, what's knocked up?" Aoife asked.
To their surprise, Bridgette was quick to turn and answer.
"It's a sin, a nun told me."
"Kelly," Eric groaned, annoyed.
"Yes, yes, I'll fix it," Kelly said good-naturedly – she often had to rectify what the crazy old nuns, to Eric's chagrin, told her daughters. She sighed, and put her hands on her hips. "I can't wait to see Lizzy," she murmured. "Dad, she only came to Dublin once – and I was pregnant with Danny; she hasn't met him, or Erin, or Nora, or Fee," Kelly trailed off, and grinned. "Did she tell you she was vegan?"
"Don't bring it up!" Jenny tried to warn, before Gibbs could open his mouth and start in on the subject.
He was cut off, though, by Fiona waking up and looking extremely shocked by her surroundings, Erin being knocked over by the dog, and Connor deciding it would be funny to push Aoife towards the fireplace for a scare.
The room erupted, and Gibbs bent down next to Jenny, kissed her lightly, caught her eye, and grinned.
It seemed the cacophony had only just died down when the dog started howling again, and without much warning, Elizabeth came flying into the house like she'd never left, her hair cut into a short, feathery pixie and her coat dappled with snow.
"Our flight got so delayed!" she yelped, blissfully unaware she had stirred up everyone in the house into madness again.
Aoife slammed into her and hugged her, looking up at her with pure admiration.
"Aunt LIZZY!" she wailed.
"Aoife!" Elizabeth wailed back, grinning. She stroked her cheek, and then waved at the others. "Happy New Year's, Biddy – Connor, did Santa bring you coal? Your Mommy told me he might," Elizabeth broke off there, and looked around brightly. "Oh look, more!"
Jenny laughed, and pointed.
"Danny, Erin, Nora," she said, about the toddlers, and then she held up the baby she was still keeping all for herself. "Fiona."
"Where the hell's Shrek?" joked Elizabeth, as Kelly came to hug her sister.
"Very funny, Lizard," she mumbled.
"It still cracks me up, all the sex you ended up having," Elizabeth retorted in her sister's ear.
Kelly giggled, flushing, and swatted her, and Elizabeth ruffled her hair.
"I see you haven't decided to pop one out yet," Kelly teased, knowing full well Elizabeth's only kids were her career and her cat. "I – "
Kelly broke off, and arched her eyebrow. Elizabeth cocked her head, followed Kelly's gaze, and then perked up.
"Ah!" she cried.
A tall, muscular, beachy looking man had entered the house behind Elizabeth. He'd shut the door and politely put his coat and boots away, and was standing patiently behind her.
"This is my Sam," she introduced. She rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms. "And before Dad asks a million and one annoying questions – Samuel Roth, he is my boyfriend, he's a very good environmental lawyer for the California branch of the EPA, he's from both Vermont and Florida, and if I believed in marriage, we'd be getting married, but until everyone who – "
"Wants to can, you won't," finished Kelly, rolling her eyes. She held out her hand. "Hi, I'm Kelly – I'm Elizabeth's older sister."
"Heard a lot about you, Kelly," Sam said in a mellow voice. Kelly turned, and pointed. "My husband, Eric Tanner – my kids, just shout out a letter A-F – Aoife, Bridgette, and Connor will talk your ear off, Danny only talks to me, the twins barely talk yet, and Fiona – she's a baby, she does nothing," Kelly laughed.
Elizabeth looped her arm through her escorts.
"I'll make you a chart later; Kelly has screws loose – she keeps having kids, on purpose – "
Eric got up to properly introduce himself, and share a 'welcome-to-the-jungle' sort of look with Sam; Jenny introduced herself as Elizabeth's mother, and that left Gibbs, standing up to shake Sam's hand and say, rather ineloquently –
"You're a guy."
Sam laughed, and Elizabeth looked startled.
"What-?"
"You kept sayin' 'my Sam,' Liz," Gibbs said, giving her a pained look. "Thought you were hidin' – "
"Hiding – what, in a closet?" Elizabeth burst out laughing. "You – Dad, I'm not a lesbian just because I'm a bleeding heart Feminist – Kelly, Mom, why'd you let him – Kelly, you know I've always been into men – "
"It was funny," Kelly said.
"Hilarious," Jenny emphasized. "We let him think we knew something – "
"It would have been fine," Gibbs said hastily to Elizabeth.
Elizabeth rolled her eyes, and then leaned forward and hugged him tightly.
"Happy New Year's, Daddy," she laughed, pressing her lips to his cheek in a kiss. "I'm glad you're only worry this year was whether or not I define scissoring different than you."
Kelly and Eric burst into laughter, and Gibbs stared at Elizabeth, half afraid to ask. She smiled at him brightly, giving him a wink that told him to just let the joke go, and he decided to focus on what else she'd said, instead – that this year, for a good few years in a row now, it again felt like he had nothing to worry about.
The last place Gibbs stood at four in the morning on January first was the basement – among the magical pillow fort that his grandchildren had loved every bit as much as Jenny had predicted.
He prowled the basement protectively, silently checking on each kid – from Aoife to Bridgette to Connor to Daniel and right down to little Erin and Nora – and he bent to give them each a kiss on the forehead before he went back upstairs silently.
He heard Elizabeth laughing – muffling it quietly, he figured – and didn't stop outside her door; Kelly and Eric sounded dead asleep – and they had a baby, he didn't have to worry about running into any funny business from them.
He found himself back into the master bedroom, where he'd started the day – and he crawled into bed with Jenny, who still lay awake, blinking at him contently in the darkness, her eyes luminous and calm.
Twenty-four years ago, around this time – when he'd just managed to get two very young and motherless, and one traumatized, little girl through another awful Christmas – he'd never have believed it would one day seem like a completely different lifetime.
But it did.
Kelly had lived. She had gone to college – graduated from Brown, with a bachelor's and a Master's; she'd gotten married, and gotten a doctorate from John's Hopkins – just awarded last month, she'd announced; she was Dr. Kelly Tanner, now – she'd had seven healthy, wild kids – she'd lived in Dublin, she'd done her own research, she did work she loved – and she was happy; she was well-adjusted; she was as okay as Jenny had promised she would be.
Elizabeth had grown up as unscathed as possible – less victimized than her sister, but affected in many similar ways by the tragedies of early life – but she'd worked her way through Berkeley, taking years off when she needed to do pay for semesters by herself, she'd gotten her degree, she'd spent two years in the peace corps and come home to do wonders for her nonprofits – and she'd never gone as wild and dark as Gibbs had feared she would.
"Jethro," Jenny murmured. "You okay?"
He looked at her, and moved closer.
If it weren't for Jen, he didn't think he could have been able to help his daughters hold it together. He felt like he owed his life to Jen, and it was a miracle she'd been so integral in saving him when she had spent so much of her life fighting her own battles – and then fighting Kelly's, and then raising Elizabeth, and keeping it together somehow.
He met her eyes now, though, and he couldn't even find the dark spots that had once lingered there, that had once flared up.
It wasn't that she was fixed, or that her past had been erased, or that he'd somehow rescued her – it was just that she was better – just like Kelly was better; they had built lives, they had fought to overcome, and they had – for lack of a more elaborate word – recovered.
She looked at him intently in the dark, and he reached out to take her hand, bringing it close and kissing her engagement ring gently.
"You ever think about the past anymore?" he asked her seriously his voice low – careful.
She blinked a moment, and then she pushed her hair back, and she licked her lips.
"Only to tell myself," she said in a quiet tone, "that I won."
He reached out for her, and pressed his forehead to hers, and she touched his jaw, smiling.
"I told you she'd be okay, Jethro," she murmured. "She was eight years old, and I told you – "
"You're okay," he interrupted, his voice soft in her ear, comfortable.
She nodded, and she felt like he did – like it was unbelievable that this world existed now, when a spark of normalcy had once been so rare in the mire of nightmares villains had left – Jenny's Orchid Thief; Kelly's Rat king.
As if she read his mind, Jenny spoke.
"You know what Kelly said to me, the day Aoife was born?"
Gibbs shook his head, and Jenny was silent a moment, wanting her words to hit home.
"She said," Jenny revealed softly, "The era of the Rat King – is over."
THE END.
I literally could not resist that last line - I don't care how cheesy; it seemed to fit perfectly. I hope, throughout the story's evolution, I've shown some slow increase towards stability and healing, and I hope that's visible - and I hope here, it doesn't all seem like a mockery of a terribly heavy issue. Thanks for reading, reviewing, and encouraging me, and thanks for taking a chance on this subject matter. I wanted to have some fun at the end - and as for the names, well ... ever since my time in Ireland, I've been madly in love with traditional Irish (Gaelic) names and their gorgeous spellings, and this is the only universe in which I felt it appropriate, unconstrained by canon, to branch out - and hell, did I have fun crafting "Eric Tanner" and Elizabeth's "Sam" from the crazies of backgrounds and life choices!
read the following conclusion if you want, but for the record - it's not a chapter; it parallel's the introduction.
Happy New Year!
-Alexandra