This bed sucked. The room smelled like boys and sweat and blood. Of course Harry hadn't cleaned up after himself.
I pulled the wax melter out from out of the closet and chose the one that read Forest Spice and plugged it in to chase out the smell. My phone caught my eye laying on the coffee table and an idea clicked in my head followed by a sense of dread. I grabbed the phone sat down with a screwdriver. My hands shook at what I might find. There was no way, he wouldn't do something like that. He wouldn't even consider it, he's not good enough with technology. But lo and behold, there it was.
My father had placed a bug in my phone nestled just beneath the battery. This particular model I had seen before. It was easily assembled with pieces from your local tech shop. The darn thing even had call forwarding that would allow him to listen in on any calls I received. I threw the phone across the room, pissed. It was an old trick and rather simple to implement and worked every time. Even for someone that damn well should've known better. I knew I hadn't been tailed.I had checked to make sure I wasn't being followed. But he didn't have to tail me if he knew where I was all the time, knew what calls I was taking. My mind raced thinking about how much he had heard. When was the chip installed? Did he know where I was now? My paranoia spiked. The safe house wasn't safe anymore if that was the case.
The offending chip in my hand glinted mockingly in my hand. I shouldn't have let my guard down. I didn't know I wasnt safe at home, didn't know he would cross this line. I felt one upped and I hated it. There was something so invasive about being tracked, so smug in essence that made me want to explode. I had left my things around my house and left my phone open to be tampered with. Throwing it on the table, grabbed the hammer from the tool bag and dented the table smashing it to pieces making sure any functionality would be destroyed. How dare he? I couldn't trust him if he was going to do something so underhanded. I had lied to him, I had hid things about my whereabouts that, in theory, I could see where he would be upset. But my anger clouded all those things, he had snatched away the safety I felt at home and replaced it with betrayal. I was so disgusted.
The first and last time someone had managed to bug my phone had been years ago and I had nearly been killed because of it. Something so stupid and small had led me into a house that was rigged to blow, all because I didn't know to look for tracking devices. I had barely escaped and had a nasty case of smoke inhalation afterwards. But I had survived learning that lesson the hard way. I could almost smell the smoke that surrounded me that day.I could feel the sting of my cheek from Zetes backhanding me for being so stupid, so incompetent. I didn't fail missions, but had just barely managed to recover that one after extensive backpedaling and regrouping.
I ran to the sink and splashed cool water on my face. My face burned with anger, I could feel myself shaking at the memory. Closing my eyes and taking deep breaths, I tried to calm the nausea swirling in my stomach. I needed sleep, I needed to time to cool down. I was stuck in this stupid cabin until whenever since I had stormed out of father's house. I grabbed the extra bedding from the closet and curled up to sleep on the couch after flicking all the lights out around the house. The bed smelled too much like Harry to bear, I was already pissed and aggravated, no need to exacerbate my condition by forcing myself to fester in that room that stank of unwashed man. I would clean the sheets tomorrow. I would get a new phone and sim card before work. The couch was comfy, but it wasn't my bed. The house was no longer safe, and I felt empty. Like sleeping in a stranger's house. I bit my lip not allowing myself to admit I hated being alone these days. I hated the isolation. I bit my lip not allowing myself to admit I missed him.
The silence was deafening. I felt like I would go mad or start hearing things that weren't there. I pulled out my phone and played some gentle rain noises to cut the heavy silence. Listening to the audio of gentle pattering made me feel safer and calmer, but it wasn't the same. It was comforting but it didn't give me the comfort that surrounded me when I felt my father came into my room late at night to check on me every night. Nothing was as securing as feeling him place another blanket on me at night and kiss my forehead and rub my hair. I could feel the tears in my eyes threaten to escape my closed lids. I squeezed them shut, praying for some escape from the conflicting emotions that made me want to scream and run home. But I wouldn't do that. He had crossed a line. I wasn't going back. I could handle this. I just had to stop being so freaking soft. I would be fine, I had been through too much to allow some argument be my breaking point.
My alarm clock blared just as I was getting some sleep. I hadn't slept all night, and now I had to go to work and stare down some file all day. I quickly got up, showered, and dressed. I had spare clothes in my cabin and a go-bag in my car so I would be fine for the day. If I needed anything else, I would just go shopping again. I couldn't stomach anything so I skipped breakfast and just headed into the Apple store to get a new phone and then straight to the office praying to day would go by quickly. Walking through the doors, the buzz of energy in the air told me I would have more in store for me than just paper pushing.
Garcia stood staring at the far wall in the office staring at the wall of fallen FBI agents looking rather dejected. The portrait of the Emily Prentiss smiled back at her. I knew they were close but friends or not, losing a team member was always hard. Especially considering the way she went down.
"Everyone in the conference room in 5," ordered Hotch as he breezed past us all and headed up the stairs.
Knew it.
The conference room was large room with a round table and large screen tv inside. I sat down in the chair closest to the door while everyone else. Garcia briefed us all on the new case once we were all seated. They were a series of murders in Portland, Oregon. The first victim was a DJ at a popular nightclub. His death appeared to be a run of the mill mugging case since his wallet, laptop, and cellphone were stolen after he was bludgeoned to death with a pipe. The next victim was a home invasion murder of a 40 year old nurse who was stabbed to death over 40 times with 8 separate weapons of opportunity. That particular one seemed incredibly erratic which was typical for group crimes. Mostly like about 4 people involved. But that was overkill for such an easily overpowered woman.
"Pack mentality discards all sense of organization but even with that considered, 8 weapons are excessive,"Rossi pointed out.
"Portland, Oregon isn't exactly a town known for gang activity," I pointed out. Must be a group of young vigilantes looking for trouble and quick money."
"We're going to find out. Wheels up in 10," Hotch instructed as we all stood and headed out.
Amus was right. The jet was nice and definitely better than flying everywhere commercial. There was seating area of about 4 plush seats around a table. The seating along each wall with a couch nestled in between provided extra space, but the circled seating made for a central discussion area much like the conference room. Reid settled next to Rossi just outside the meeting circle fiddling with a map and some papers. Rossi sat on the outer chair of the circle. Instinctively, I headed for a seat that would place me across from the group, but Hotch motioned for me to sit in the window seat diagonal to Rossi. I appreciated him trying to include me but being trapped in small areas with bodies was a touch out of my comfort zone. I slid in swallowing the feeling of discomfort while Morgan unexpectedly settled beside me. We didn't spare a glance towards each other and instead focused on the file in hand, while Hotch remained standing.
"It may seem like overkill, but if we're dealing with a group of kids that are trying to prove themselves or their dominance then this lines up. The home invasion instance reads like a crime of passion. Unless they're projecting their issues upon those that represent the real target," I said.
"And until they get their real target, they'll continue in this manner," Hotch said in his usual low tone.
"These unsubs are night owls, stalking and killing other night owls," Rossi observed from across the table.
"And they're also disorganized. In one, they subdue their victim with hitting him with a pipe found on the scene. But on the other, they used a knife followed by 7 other household items," Reid stated.
"Including a ceramic cat and a door stopper. All this to steal, what, a few hundred dollars of possessions. Doesn't make sense," Morgan said.
"Based on my geographic profile's algorithm, the unsubs either live or work in this area," Reid laid out the map in with two overlapping circles that indicated the area they were most comfortable with and, thus, more likely to strike in.
"Frost, you'll come with Rossi and I to the crime scene. Morgan, interview the clerk at the grocery store and see if they can give you a description of the group, any details on their behavior, or if the victim interacted with them to some degree. Reid head down to the police station and get settled. Try to narrow down specific areas and neighborhoods that are vulnerable to the next attack."
Reid continued to scratch away of the geographics of the town, while Morgan placed his headphones on and closed his eyes. Hotch settled into on the the swiveling captain chairs across from Morgan studying the file further, while Ross just seemed to stare off into the distance trading ideas with Reid every now and then.
We wouldn't know more until we got there so I just pulled out my phone and started reprogramming it. I was still sleepy but not enough to fall asleep in front of a group of people I didn't know. I needed to keep my hands busy to keep me awake. My elbow acted on the table acted and a barrier between Morgan and I. My hair draped over me giving me some semblance of being alone. For the rest of the ride I entertained myself with Angry Birds and the Sims game on my phone.
We landed about 6 hours later and I was more exhausted than before. My butt was numb and I had gotten eye strain from playing my game. I followed Hotch and Rossi to the SUV and headed to the crime scene to gather what we could about the unsub.
"Perhaps you'll be able to see something we missed," the woman said already sounding worn out from the case. One of the local detectives had met us at the crime scene and guided us into the house to try and give us a chance to re-inspect the house . Everything was scattered about but I noticed several more valuable items were missing.
"The victim died after the second stab wound because they hit an artery, why inflict 38 more?," Rossi asked. The kitchen had been where the body was discovered. She laid here, alone for hours before a neighbor noticed her through the window.
"Groups rationalize their own violent behavior because everyone else is involved. Makes them feel safe in their own violent rage," Hotch said, thinking out loud more than anything.
"Like Manson or the Genocide in Darfur."
"They get a high from killing. "
"But that only goes on as long the victim continues to struggle. That's not what happened here."
I was only half listening to their discussion. The footprints left by the group tracking blood around the house seemed odd. Too similar and didn't change in pattern or smear the way a group's would.
"What if we're looking for a single unsub rather than several?" I asked still looking down at the tracks. There was no way this was a team.
Hotch and Rossi and looked at me confused. "Elaborate."
"Like look around the tv, the desktop, the bicycle outside is still here. A group would have taken all of that in no time. But one person would have taken what they could carry. The random stuff they did take wasn't pawnable enough cash in."
"What if they ran out of time?," Hotch asked. "After the killing someone noticed the noise and called the police."
"It's not busy neighborhood though, and there weren't any noise complaints or witnesses," Rossi pointed out.
"Look at the footsteps on the ground," I said getting their attention again. "They're the same shoe and size. Unless this disorganized group isn't all that erratic and all have the same shoe size and thought to do something hyper organized like coordinate footwear, maybe it's one really unstable person. A single unsub would also explain why there weren't any witnesses. There aren't any signs of forced entry so I'm guessing he picked the locked or walked in right after her when it was still unlocked or while she unloaded groceries. He had to be exhausted after stabbing her so many times and just grabbed whatever was convenient."
Hotch nodded his head and texted Morgan the update in information. Rossi just looked at me and arched his brow, "Not bad, kid."
Rossi didn't seem like the type to dole out compliments much and from the way he looked at me, I could tell it had been done reluctantly.
We were walking out the house when Hotch's phone rang. He put the phone on speaker for us all to hear, "Morgan."
"Yeah, Hotch. You were right, he was by himself. Clerk at the store said he was acting strange like he was being followed."
"Reid was told by one of the detectives that the first victim was killed in area known for high drug use," Hotch pointed out. "If he was using something like PCP that would explain the erratic behavior and random things taken from the house."
"And the overkill on the victims," Morgan said over the line. Hotch merged the calls to include Garcia who couldn't find any of the stolen items the market. She thought he may be bartering with them for drugs instead.
We spent the night in the precinct gathering what evidence we knew about the suspect. Despite three killings, it was hard to flush out a profile. There were still so many unanswered questions. The victimology didn't have many connections and it seemed to be crime of opportunity which was common if the goal was simple robbery and adrenaline high.
"So what do we tell the public? We got nothin' here," huffed one of the local officers. We had just run over the findings and they weren't promising so far. I understood his frustration, there was no target group, nothing we could really warn people against. None of us voiced it aloud, but we all knew we wouldn't know anything until he killed again. There was always one instance, one crime, one mistake, that gave us an edge. Something that would give us something tangible to go on.
"You can caution the public to remain vigilant during night hours. The unsub is the most comfortable at night," Hotch said calmly. "I would advise you to patrol these areas," he said gesturing to the map Reid had marked on that narrowed in his comfort zone.
The cop nodded and left us to instruct the officers on their routes for the night.
"Hotch," Morgan said lowly, "I'm with him. We're all gonna go to sleep tonight knowing some innocent, unknown person is gonna get killed in the next day or two."
"That's the drawback to this job," Rossi said absently looking out the window. "Knowing you can't do anything to stop the next kill."
We went back to the hotel anticipating the worst. I wasn't discouraged, despite knowing something awful would happen within the next couple of days. I plopped down on the cushy bed having thrown my go-bag in the chair against the wall. I looked at my phone seeing several missed calls from my father. I knew he was looking for me, I knew he was pissed beyond measure at this point. He had called me about an hour after I stormed out the night we fought. I simply placed him on do not disturb too angry to have a conversation. Now, I knew that had been a mistake. He wasn't gonna happy when I saw him. I realized I never thought out how long I planned on exiling myself to that god awful safe house.
What if he didn't want to see me again after this? Though I had been too mad to see it then, I knew I crossed a major line. I had stepped out of bounds and was leaving him hanging not knowing what I was up to. I don't even know if he knew I was out on a case. I could only imagine how furious he was with me for disobeying him. I was suddenly grateful for the miles between us at the moment. I couldn't call him back now. That would only distract me. So I decided to deal with the way I did with most unpleasant things, ignored it and pretended it didn't exist.
The next night, the killer struck again in a similar manner around the same time. The fact that he acted again so quickly, two kills within 24 hours, showed signs of acceleration. Whatever was pushing him forward was making him more frustrated and it started to show in the killings. The postmortem stabbing was upping in numbers. His latest crime scene was an apartment building within the comfort zone.
"If he's on PCP, he'd used every muscle he had. He'd strangle, kick, bludgeon, anything to blow off the pent up energy," Rossi said. He was right. Despite the brute force exhibited on the bodies it was still too focused on one method to be the result of PCP use.
"You thinking this is the result of another drug altogether?," Hotch asked. Before he could answered Morgan spoke.
"You guys hear that?," Morgan asked. We sat silently and looked up at the sound of muffled footsteps coming from above us.
"Frost, you and Morgan go interview the tenant downstairs. See if they heard anything," Hotch instructed.
Morgan and I shared a look, but headed out the door to go downstairs without a word. A blonde older woman answered the door looking wide eyed and too innocent to be surrounded by such violence.
"Hello ma'am. We're Special Agents Morgan and Frost from the FBI, just had a few questions about what transpired last night. Are you aware of what occured upstairs?"
"Oh yes. Just awful isn't? I've been in this building 27 years. The worst incident we ever had was when Benjamin Hadley, up in 402, found out his wife was sleeping with the cleaner guy and shot him in the groin," she recounted in a soft spoken almost childlike tone.
I almost forgot the seriousness of the situation and laughed out loud. Morgan just looked at her and changed the subject.
"M'am when did you hear the screaming?"
"Oh it was late around 3:30?"
"Then you must have heard the unsub. According to the ME, Joe died around 2:45."
"The w-what?"
"Our suspect, ma'am", he clarified gently.
"Ohhh.."
"Ma'am, did you happen to hear what the suspect was yelling?," I asked finally speaking up.
"He said 'I was just kid then. I don't want to kill anymore.'" She hadn't heard a second voice yelling back and she assumed he was having a phone conversation which further cemented my single suspect theory. We thanked her and left.
"PCP hallucinations are terrifying, they distort reality and make you lose a sense of self but they don't play back childhood trauma to torture you with. Sounds like a severe mental illness he developed as a result of a traumatic event he can't come to terms with." PTSD wasn't the only condition that developed after a devastating events. The human mind had numerous ways of protecting itself in the event of something too distressing to process.
"Hallucinations from mental illnesses aren't as violent."
"He's in his twenties and he seems disturbed in the grocery store. He's in the right age bracket for schizophrenia to develop."
"So what if the voices in his head are telling him to kill or blaming him for something?"
"That would explain the amount of stab wounds on each victim and the screaming the neighbor sheard. It's not about them struggling, or even the victims themselves. He's trying to escape something by killing and it isn't working."
"If that's the case, then there's no end in sight for him. He'll stop when we catch him."
Once we returned to the precinct we delivered the comprehensive profile the police officers. We took turns adding in bits of information that would be helpful to his identifying him. A white male in his mid to late twenties with paranoid schizophrenia experiencing hallucinations that would encourage him to kill.
"A recent stressor would have made these kills start, though he was probably trying to resist it. He spends all day trying to avoid temptation, but eventually loses out by nightfall. These urges will persist and the homicides won't stop until he is captured," Morgan stated.
While the officers were asking questions, I noticed Reid seemed to be almost out of it, like something about the case bothered him. But not in the normal way, almost like everything was hitting too close to home. He suddenly stood and rushed off to the bathroom. I stood and started to follow him when Morgan cut in front of me instead, gave me a once over out of the corner of his eye, and followed after Reid.
I didn't expect that. The moment only lasted a second and no one seemed to notice the tense exchange, except for Rossi who regarded me silently and gestured me back over to the group. We had been fine this morning, talked civilly and even came to a profile defining conclusion together. He thought I was competent enough, but wasn't about to let me see the other side of the team. I shrugged internally. That was fine with me, I didn't get paid to be a shoulder to cry on anyway. We had a case to solve.
We ended up calling it night after delivering the profile. The local officers would take over the night shift patrolling the designated areas looking for anything suspicious or anyone strolling aimlessly looking disturbed. Even though our unsub was a murderer, he needed help too. He was being tortured in his own mind and I couldn't help but feel sorry for him. Situations like these were always kind of gray and understanding these people meant understanding that they themselves were victims too.
I sat in my room just decompressing from the day with music and my nightly skin care routine after a shower. Being in and out of crimes scenes all day made me feel dirty and tense. The smell of eucalyptus and mint tingling my pores calmed me enough to be ready to sleep.
The hotel we were in was nice and, thankfully, everyone had rooms to call their own. Some gentle chattering of familiar voices from outside caught my attention and I walked over to the window in my pyjamas to look outside. I shifted the soft curtains and looked down from the open window to see the team in more casual clothes heading out of the hotel. They looked more relaxed, than they had earlier today and from the bits of their conversation I could make out, they seemed to be heading out to eat.
A weird feeling settled in the pit of my stomach and made a lump form in my throat. I couldn't quite place it, but it was foreign and made me feel alone. My phone sat on the dresser almost glaring at me. I ignored the urge to call home and closed the curtain. Everything was easier when I was busy, distracted with work. It was kind of early to sleep, but I didn't have much of a choice. I settled on the bed clicked on my computer, and found a movie on netflix to watch until I fell asleep.
The next day brought a new kill that Reid and Morgan had checked out. We had determined earlier in the day, based on the items purchased at the grocery store, that the unsub had come from a religious background. There was salt and purified water churches often used to pray over and ward off demons. He had tried giving himself an exorcism to rid himself of his "demons" but hadn't been successful. Reid had narrowed the local churches in the area and found a priest that had seen our unsub and had turned him down for an exorcism. The church had taken a step back in recent decades from trying to alleviate mental torture and had begun turning them over to medical professionals. He had probably had one done before when he was kid and found some relief from it, and was now lashing out now being shut out from the only outlet he knew. I wasn't surprised he killed again so soon. His frustration would only mount. That in combination with his hallucinations would leave him in need of release. He had killed an old woman and laid beside her after the murder, sleeping at her side until he woke up and left. She was so much older than the others. This was the kill that mattered. She meant something to him, or represented the person that did. The overkill left him exhausted.
This time he had managed almost 80 stabs. It became apparent then that his only release from his hallucinations was sleep. Our unsub being an insomniac would further explain the desperation. Insomnia would make his hallucinations torturously clear. His hallucinations wouldn't let him sleep until he killed. He had to exhaust himself to fall asleep naturally.
We all sat in the break room of the precinct waiting for Garcia to give us more information on the unsub. It was only afternoon so it was a safe guess to place him at home right now. If we could find him there we could prevent yet another victim.
"I looked at Schizophrenics that have been recently arrested in that 40 mile radius and cross checked it with it ones that have gone to local pharmacies to get their medication. Like Thorazine and Prolixin," Garcia explained over the speaker phone. She was trying to find a way to connect the medications used to the local pharmacy within the comfort zone of our unsub.
"Anyone go in for sleeping medication as well?," Hotch asked.
"Yes. Ben Foster . He has a prescription for Thorazine and Ambien."
"The stolen items are probably used to pay for his medication. There's no way he's holding down a steady job," Rossi said.
"Background?"
"He moved to Portland three years ago. Uh, month ago he was in an apartment fire for which he received sleeping medication for…. Oh my...when he was 10 he was questioned during an investigation about a fire that killed 3 people," she said.
"Could be apart of the homicidal triad," Morgan pointed out.
She continued, "Turns out 2 months before, his mom had a local minister perform a exorcism. The three people that were killed in the fire helped perform his exorcism."
"Was he charged?"
"No, he was acquitted in Juvenile Court."
"Got an address?"
"2627 Halden Way."
With that we stood and headed out the door. Hotch passed the bulletproof vests from the trunk of the SUV before getting in and speeding off without the sirens.
Hotch warned us as he weaved in and out of traffic and warned, "Ben is going to run. Despite wanting to escape his hallucinations he's not going to come easy. We'll split up to cover ground and case him in."
We pulled up outside his house and headed for the doors and sides of the house. Morgan and I ran to the side of the house just in time to see Ben foster run outside and hop over his back porch railing and run off towards the backyard of his neighbors' home.
"He's out back!," Morgan yelled to the others kicking in the metal fence. Morgan and I ran after Ben but kept to the sidewalk parallel to him to keep his trail in sight. He was hopping another 6ft metal fence blocking from another section of the neighborhood, but the barrier of a 8ft foot metal chained fence kept Morgan from being able to advance on him. He shook the fence frustrated looking for another way around it. If we lost him now there was no telling when the next open fence along the sidewalk would allow our paths to cross again. I ran up behind him and hopped up on the tall, green barrier with ease straddling on the top.
"Put your foot on the fence and grab my hand."
He looked like he wanted object, but thought better of it and did what I asked. I grabbed his forearm pulled him up halfway and flipped my 120 pounds of body weight to flip he and I over the barrier. Morgan was agile enough to land on his feet with me without much issue. We still had him in sight and chased after him. Morgan climbed the second fence while I got a running start, put my arm on the bar and leaped over to the other side.
We lost sight of him around a corner that was lined with houses. He must have found an unlocked door and nipped in for cover to avoid us. The whole neighborhood was family friendly, toys and bikes littered some of the yard and I prayed he wouldn't harm any kids if they got in his way. They weren't his usual targets.
"Hotch lost visual but we have him narrowed down to Glen Street. He couldn't have gotten far," Morgan said into his shirt mic.
The other agents met us on the block and started stalking up and down the street looking for any signs of disturbances that would hint us of his presence. Everything seemed too calm and the few people on the street walking around were being interviewed, but so far no had seen anything. I walked alone surveilling the windows. It was middle of the day, school would have been out by now so the chances that he had run into an occupied house were higher.
I caught a shifting of one of the drapes closing in my peripheral vision and stopped. Those drapes had been open a second ago.
"I might have something at 218," I said into the microphone in my sleeve and went to round the corner and wait for the others.
The team met me quietly at the side of the house. Hotch and Reid entered the house from one of the back windows, while Morgan and I entered from the kitchen window careful not to alert him of us closing in.
...There's noone there," a young female whimpered
"No, he's right there!" Ben cried obviously gesturing to his hallucinations that he didn't realize now one could see. We moved in quietly and surrounded him.
Hotch jumped into his line of vision first. "Ben, drop the knife," Hotch ordered with his gun drawn.
"Ben, we're not gonna shoot you but we do need you to put down the knife, okay? Where are the other people in this room, Ben?," Reid said gently. He was trying to earn Ben's trust by first sympathizing with him.
"They're right there, you see 'em?," He pointed with his knife shakily on the verge of tears.
"Were they there for the exorcism?," he asked.
"Mhmm," he said weakly, cowering behind the children he held hostage. "I didn't kill them though I didn't do it...I'm not lying!" He screamed the last part at one of his hallucinations looking just past Reid. I kept my gun close and aimed at his non vital areas. I wanted to subdue him should the needs arise, not kill him.
"They're dead and they can't hurt you anymore."
"Yeah, they can."
"No, they can't. Your mind is playing tricks on you, Ben." He seemed to argue with his hallucinations nonsensically before finally admitting to killing them. Morgan tried to placate him as well by promising to get him help but he didn't seem to be hearing him.
"The only way you can help me is to kill me."
"That's not true, Ben. Put that knife down and I'll get you some help. You'll be okay," Morgan urged.
He seemed to consider this for a moment looking somewhat hopeful, but something told me this wasn't gonna end quietly. "Are you sure that will work?"
"Yes, I am sure."
"Okay," he looked down at the kids and let them run away from him . I led them out the door, still facing Ben making sure they would make it out okay. The door shut behind them and Ben advanced forward with knife towards Reid. Before he could reach him I fired a shot into his shoulder.
"We need an ambulance," Reid said into his microphone that connected him to Rossi outside.
It was past midnight once we landed and shuttled off to our respective cars. The plane ride back and had been quiet and subdued in the aftermath of Foster's arrest. Ben Foster had survived and would be admitted to a medical facility for the help he so desperately needed. It wasn't exactly justice for the victims but it would take him off the streets indefinitely and Ben would get the help he needed.
Getting back into my car and shutting the door, I wasn't exactly in the mood to head back to the safe house. I didn't exactly have a plethora of options laid out before me and my pride was no longer the issue. I had lost all that on the plane ride back to D.C.. I knew I had been out of line. And while I felt like I still had some reasonable ground to stand on of being right, I was willing to just call myself wrong if it meant my father would talk to me again after all this.
I laid my head on the steering wheel considering my options. He'd still be up now if he wasn't on a case. He was usually easier to talk to once he had relaxed and had his nightly bourbon. But I also wasn't used to dealing with an angry parent. Sure I had gotten in trouble before, but never had I raised my voice or actually challenged him before. Eight years had made quite the difference in his response to my antics and unlike most teenagers, and I didn't know my father well enough to gauge his response beforehand.
Tobias was tired and too old to be doing this. He had his own teenager to worry about and while she was safely tucked away at home in her room actually respecting his authority, he was at headquarters past midnight tracking down the daughter of Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He had been waiting for the confirmation that the team had landed to confront Kelly and bring her home to the father that had been on his case since she left for Oregon 4 days ago. The old bastard hadn't had any peace and refused to let Tobias have any either until he knew his daughter was back on the east coast again. Tobias had spent the last 2 hours sitting in his car waiting for her to come back to the parking lot. Gibbs had been caught up in some case all day and had placed Fornell, on one of his few nights off, on babysitting duty to his stubborn daughter.
He watched what had to be the girl in question walk out into the parking lot and head for her car. He approached her from the back so she wouldn't see him coming, only to find her head down and her hair covering her face. He rolled his eyes and tapped harshly on the window to get her attention.
The girl in the car lifted her head slowly and looked him at him blankly She didn't really look like her father, he noted absently. She continued to stare at him with a quirked eyebrow that clearly indicated she wasn't at all threatened by being approached in an empty parking lot late at night by some strange man. He sighed exasperated and motioned for her to roll down her window so they could get this over with. She rolled her eyes annoyed, but did as he asked. Teenagers.
"Kelly, right?"
Kelly shrugged in a small, noncommitted manner and waited for the balding man to continue.
"You're coming with me," he said flashing his badge. She scoffed at him, actually scoffed at him and started to roll her window up again with a smirk that did make her look like her dad, dismissing him completely.
"Get out of the car or I'm coming in." Now she just looked amused, looking him up and down condescendingly no doubt knowing she had the upper hand if it came down to a fight.
"Your father is looking for you. You can either come with me now, or I can let your father come and make a scene when he gets back from his case."
Kelly was a bit taken aback by that. Her father was looking for her? She didn't think he'd bother with her after what happened.
Her window came back down farther and she asked,"Who are you? You his friend or something?"
Kelly remembered her father mentioning vaguely that another man had married his ex-wife and worked for the FBI back when she asked about the case he had left Mexico for for a second time.
She hadn't gotten the impression that they were friends.
"Friends is far too affectionate a tone for Jethro. Right now he's my problem. Unlock the doors."
Kelly did as he asked and watched him round the car and slide into the passenger side. "Alright, let's go. The faster we get you home, the faster I can go back to bed."
Kelly cranked the car obediently and drove out of the parking lot. She wanted a reason to come home and now she had it. Even if meant sitting in car with a man possibly grumpier than her father.
The streets of D.C. were quieter in the late hour. The streets were emptier than usual and the heat of the night seemed to swallow up sound muting the world around them. Tobias leaned back into the seats that were a quite a bit too plush for a teenager's first car. Certainly nicer than anything he had owned around her age, or even now.
"I'm sorry you had to stay up so late, just to come get me," Kelly apologized quietly breaking the peaceful calm in the car.
Tobias looked over at her a bit surprised at her consideration of him. After listening to Jethro fuss about whatever fight they had had he expected her to be just as combative and unapologetic as her father often was. Tobias had laughed at the time knowing the old bastard had probably just met his match in his daughter and didn't like it. Must've gotten her manners from Jethro's first wife.
"Yes, well, it was the least I could do after what Jethro did for my Emily," Tobias awkwardly. That wasn't true. He knew he still would have done it even if Emily hadn't been in danger this past summer. Though neither would ever admit it, even under severe torture, Tobias and Jethro were good friends and they cared deeply about one another. Tobias had done a lot of kicking and screaming, but he was happy to help Jethro. He knew how much Kelly meant to him and knew he'd have driven everyone else just as crazy had he and Emily been in the same situation.
The pair soon pulled up to the house to find the charger in the driveway and the lights in the living room on. He was waiting for them.
Tobias noticed Kelly looking up the house with trepidation not wanting to move from the safety of the car to face whatever storm laid inside for her. Tobias couldn't blame her, Jethro was a SOB to deal with on his best days. He didn't want to imagine the hell he could unleash upon his own kid without the restrictions of the federal government's ban on cruel and unusual punishment.
"C'mon. He already heard the car pull up," he said opening his door. Tobias walked around to her side when she still hadn't gotten out the car. "From experience, kid, the longer we leave him waiting the angrier he'll be."
Kelly sighed and put her shaking hand on the handle and exited the car, shutting the door behind her. She wanted to fall through the floor or make a run for that god awful safehouse that no longer seemed so bad. Tobias walked ahead of her and waited for her to join him on the front porch. Once she had, he opened the door to find Gibbs walking towards them just as Kelly stepped over the threshold. Tobias saw the relief flash in eyes at finally seeing her again unharmed and back home. Though it was quickly replaced by the stone cold anger that had been allowed to brew over the last couple days. He stopped in front of her, hovering in her face. To her credit, she didn't shake much and stood her ground. Gibbs held out his hand, and she dropped the car keys in it
"Upstairs. Now," Gibbs said lowly in a voice that actually made Tobias cringe.
Kelly hurried up the stairs without a word and they waited for her to settle in her room and shut the door quietly. Gibbs let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding and dropped the keys in his pocket.
"Thanks, Tobias." It was curt, but he could tell Gibbs had truly meant it. He knew the feeling.
He shrugged, "You woulda done the same for Emily." In fact, he had before. Emily loved her Uncle Gibbs and he had gotten her out of trouble and covered for her more times than Tobias probably even knew about.
"Don't kill the poor girl, Gibbs. She's just a teenager."
"Yeah, a teenager that's managed to give me more gray hair than I already had."
Tobias snorted, "Call me when you start balding."
Gibbs forced air out of his mouth in a tired laugh, "You want a drink?"
"Sure. Been up too long to sleep now."
The two friends headed down to the basement where Gibbs still had some warm chinese takeout and bourbon on the table. Tobias helped himself to the food and chopsticks while Gibbs looked around for his jars.
"Give me your mug will ya? Sawdust makes my throat dry," He said around a mouthful of sesame chicken.
Gibbs smirked, "First my wife. Now my mug…"
"It's only worth it if ya steal it. I'll let you keep Kelly though. Of course, she's got better manners than you. Unlike you, she's sorry about having me out past my bedtime."
"Glad she hasn't lost respect for all her elders. Just me." Gibbs handed Tobias his good mug and poured him some bourbon.
"She's a teenager. They like to test the limits of authority. S'what they do."
"Yeah well that ain't gonna fly around here." Gibbs took a hearty sip of his drink relishing in the burn it left in his throat.
Tobias and Gibbs sat up for the next few hours drinking, eating, and talking until Tobias decided to call it a night. Gibbs tossed him Kelly's keys and told him to bring the car back whenever since Kelly wouldn't be using it anytime soon.
Gibbs headed upstairs cutting the lights off and locking down for the night. He had spent most of his time in basement while Kelly was gone, barely sleeping. When he did he was always under the boat or on the living room couch hoping she would eventually just walk back through the door. But that hadn't happened and Gibbs quickly lost his patience when she continued to not answer his phone calls.
There hadn't been many times in Kelly's life where he was left worrying about her, wondering if she was safe or not. When she was kid she was usually within his sight if he was home. Those few times of uncertainty were always hell. When she had been admitted to the hospital for running a fever above 103 as a baby, he had been beside him himself feeling like a failure and so utterly helpless to do anything to alleviate her discomfort.
When she had gotten herself caught in a tree when she was 7 and nearly fallen to her death while screaming for him, the panic that enveloped him was nearly paralyzing.
But in both those instance, she had been saved. Her doctors had been able to break her fever, and his quick reflexes had caught her just in time before she hit the ground. But the feeling of not knowing where she was, or what she was doing had brought on another onslaught of emotions. He had spent the entire night that she left beside himself pacing the living room waiting for her to come back home and when she didn't, he had asked Tobias whether she showed for work. He could confirm she had but had been sent away on a case immediately that morning to Oregon.
Gibbs was relieved that she had arrived to work safely only to worry again as he watched the case unfold knowing she was there, running after some maniac that killed people in the dark. Kelly had a bad habit of wondering the streets at night when she couldn't sleep. He could only prayed that she had stayed inside her hotel room and close to her team, instead of indulging herself.
He stopped just in front of her door that was still cracked. He never intended to talk to her tonight, figured he should let her stew a bit since she had so graciously didn't answer his calls for several days. Pushing her door open he peered in.
She had fallen asleep atop her cover still dressed in her work clothes and shoes looking like she had been waiting for him. He let put a breath and rubbed his hand roughly across his face. Tomorrow wouldn't be fun and she would be punished and they would need to talk, but knowing that she was safe and down the hall again was enough for tonight. He walked over silently and pulled her boots and socks off her feet and hoisted her legs back on the bed so she laid on it fully. Gibbs gently pushed her hair away from her face knowing she hated when it touched her while she slept.
He smirked to himself remembering the first time he had done this when she fell asleep without changing. He had snuck up on her in her sleep and without opening her eyes, her arm had lashed out and grabbed his throat in a chokehold. Her eyes snapped open and she looked ready to follow up on the attack until she realized it was him. She spent the next hour apologizing and hugging him until he had convinced her he wasn't upset. Now, she seemed to relax her tensed features under his touch knowing, even subconsciously, that she was safe with him.
Kelly woke up feeling tight, constricted, and a little dirty. She had slept in her clothes and makeup again and it stuck to her like an itchy second skin. It took a moment for her to realize she was back at home and not in the safehouse anymore. She listened closely for any signs that her father was up. Of course he was. She could hear him shuffling around downstairs and the smell of coffee wafted upstairs. It was 6:30am and he had to be into work by 8am. She considered pretending to be asleep but figured he would come and wake her up anyway. Besides, she really, really needed a shower and the smell of the jet stuck to her clothes.
She hopped peeled her clothes off and hopped in the shower washing the whole trip and the nervousness from last night off her body and hair. The smells of Lavender, mint, and Mango opened her pores and dug out the the impurities that made her skin itch.
She pulled on an old Georgetowne University t-shirt she had found in a thrift store and a pair of comfy yoga pants. She didn't have to go in today since it was just an administrative day following the case and she had already finished her report on the plane.
Pulling her hair up in a damp bun in the top of her head she cleaned up her dirty clothes and put them in the near overflowing hamper. She was hungry and really wanted a smoothie but she didn't want to go downstairs until her dad left. Or maybe she should, she thought. There was only so much he could say to her when he needed to be at work in a few.
The knock at her door and the creak when it opened made the decision for her.
"Come downstairs, Kelly."
He was gone before she could turn and face him. Looks like there wouldn't be any stalling today. She walked down the stairs to meet him in the kitchen.
He leaned against the countertop, sipping on his coffee. On the table she saw a pair of gloves, a face mask, and cleaning products in a bucket.
"Grab the supplies on the table and follow me," he ordered walking past her. She did as he asked knowing this wasn't gonna be good. Looked like she would doing some deep cleaning if the heavy duty products meant anything. She followed him outside and next door where he knocked on the door to reveal an elderly woman she had never seen before.
"Oh, Leroy you came," the woman squealed. She was a frail woman that looked to be about in her eighties and around 4'11 with a southern accent that she would guess was from Louisiana.
" 'Course, ma'am. Would never leave you empty handed," he drawled in that charming dutiful manner that only military men possessed.
"Oh I knew I could count on you," she said smiling and noticing Kelly for the first time. "You must be Leroy's daughter! I've heard so much about you."
"Yes ma'am," Kelly said politely.
"You never told me what a pretty thing she was Leroy, she reminds me so much of my Eleanor."
The woman looked over her shoulder and called back into the house, "Oh Eleanor, come here my darling. We have guests."
Kelly expected a woman to come around the corner to meet them, but instead they were joined by a cat twirling around the woman's legs with brown hair hair and wide eyes. She didn't know whether to feel flattered or pity the lonely woman.
"Come in, come in, I'll show you where it's at," she waved them in stepping aside and shutting the door behind them. The inside of the house was cluttered with a million knick knacks and flower patterned furniture that made Kelly's eyes bounce. She wasn't sure where curtains ended and where the rug began that matched the obscene furniture.
A cloud of dust hung in the air like the room had been recently sweeped but none of the windows were open to release it outside. Kelly hadn't struggled with her asthma for years, but being in the house made her lungs quiver all over again. Her face must not have hidden her inner horror very well since her father nudged her and glared at the look on her face.
Right, she meant to work on her facial expressions.
"Well dear, as your father knows I'm in need of a good cleanin'. Everything has gotten so out of hand with my Lonnie dying, and I decided I needed a fresh start. Leroy, was just so put out that he couldn't help but he said you loved sprucing up homes and organizin' and this'll be perfect for ya darlin'."
"Done wonders with my living room and kitchen, ma'am. Kelly would love to help and I'm only sorry I can't assist. Goes against my morals to leave such a beautiful woman in need. "
She blushed, "Oh Leroy you say the sweetest things. But you know you're far too old for a youngin like me."
"Thought I'd give it a try anyway," he winked. The old woman giggled girlishly. Kelly watched the pair still holding her bucket praying this would end. She had never seen her father flirt before and felt that there should be an age cap on such banter especially so early in the morning.
"Come, Come, darlin'," the basement is the best place to start. The woman led Leroy and Kelly over to the basement steps and down into the room.
Kelly thought the first floor was in rough condition, but the basement, however, should be condemned. The room was stacked to the ceiling with boxes and trash that been tossed down there rot and fester. The fact that the furnace was down here only made the smell worse as it raged on heating up the house in the middle of August. The floor wasn't visible underneath all the clothes and filth that covered every inch of the room. Apparently Eleanor wasn't the only cat in the house. Kelly could see several pairs of eyes staring at her from underneath the mess and a few crawled out and on top the mess.
Kelly felt her skin crawl just looking around. The room made her want to break out in hives. The woman was a hoarder and while Kelly would never claim to be the neat freak her father was, she hated filth. Her hands and right eye started to twitch, she could feel herself on the edge of snapping. This was a nightmare.
"I need it all cleaned up and outta here. It's embarassin' and I woulda done it myself but I'm too weak to lift anything and I get tired so easily….." The woman looked overwhelmed wringing her hands on the edge of tears. If Kelly wasn't so busy trying to keep herself from having an anxiety attack, she would have comforted her.
" Kelly'll make sure every inch of the house is deep cleaned and organized. No matter how long it takes, I promise."
"Oh, thank you! Thank you, both. I don't want my kids to see the house this way, they'll put me in a home if they see this. Have you eaten, Kelly? No matter I'll whip something up," Mary pranced up the stairs and headed to kitchen.
"Dad..." Kelly said addressing her father for the first time today.
"Since ya don't seem to care about anyone but yourself, it'd be best you learned to take others in consideration even if it doesn't benefit you."
"I'm sorry about what happened, Dad. I didn't mean-"
"You're sorry because you're having to face the consequences. As I found out recently, Kelly, your words don't a damned thing. This house had better be spotless. You will do this alone. None of your tricks or games, I don't care how long it takes you. Are we clear?"
How could they understand each other when he wasn't listening to her. She was sorry before she knew about her punishment, she wanted to make things right but he wasn't giving her the chance.
"Dad, you're not giving me a chance to explain-"
"It doesn't matter," he said dismissively and gesturing angrily with hand. Kelly watched his hand go up and jumped back, startled. She put her head down refusing to look at him, and quickly made her way down the rest of the stairs out of his sight. Gibbs stared after her retreating figure confused at her sudden reaction. Fear had flashed in her eyes in way he had never seen before. Her temper was seconds from flaring to match his so why had she suddenly recoiled like a kicked puppy and run off? Before he had time to think on it further, Mary flitted back in the room to ask him if Kelly liked some fancy muffin thing. Before she could question him further he got a call about a dead Marine from DiNozzo and had to rush off.
Everything stunk. Everything smelled like cat piss and garbage. It would takes weeks to clean this place. The walls felt like they were caving in on her and she ended up going back to her house for her knee high rain boots. Of course she couldn't clean what she could quite see yet either so the cleaning products were useless until she could get this place emptied out. Mary had informed her that anything that was in the basement wasn't of particular value to her which helped since none of it was any good after being drenched in cat piss for the last decade.
Since it all needed to be removed anyway, she ended up calling a junk hauling company to meet her at the house. Her father told her no one could help her so told the junk hauling people to stay by the car while she brought the boxes and trash outside on the curb for them to throw in the massive hauling trunks. Last thing she needed was Mary accidentally letting it slip that she hired some help..
Thankfully the basement was basically a garage which made going in and out easy enough. The open garage door allowed the heat from the furnace to escape making it more bearable. Ms. Mary was a sweet old lady despite the filth she lived in. She had offered Kelly a scone that she ended up throwing out with the rest of the trash. She didn't want to be rude but she'd rather not die in a suffocating basement because of a contaminated scone.
Cleaning out the basement of all 200 boxes and and countless trash bag had taken her until about 2pm. The basement was still caked in fecal matter and trash juice but it was empty of its original contents. The junk guys had been insistent on helping her until they realized how bad it was inside. Once she had started carrying out petrified cat bodies, they backed off completely from helping and shot her sympathetic looks. Mary was, of course, devastated to find out some of cat babies had been rotting away in the basement.
"Seen alotta bad hauls but this really tops 'em. Lady in there should reported," said the haulman in a thick Jersey accent.
"You really gonna report a little old lady, Pauly?," his friend asked incredulously lifting the last box of old clothes into the truck.
"Chick here just hauled off enough cat corpses to fill a graveyard."
She didn't mind. She spent the last few days staring at dead bodies and she had moved more than few those before too so this wasn't a big deal. The old lady wasn't a sadist or anything but she probably shouldn't be allowed to own pets. She knew she smelled like hell and probably looked it too.
Her body felt weak from all the heavy lifting without breakfast and she needed food in the worst way.
"Thanks for today, guys. I'll probably be calling again tomorrow. I still have the rest of the house to do."
"Think the rest of the house is a graveyard too?," asked Jersey guy.
Kelly laughed, "No, I think the best was the worst of it honestly. Everything else is a organization and deep cleaning. How much do I owe you guys?"
"Don't worry about it for today. We'll talk price once we're done."
Once the team left Kelly said goodbye to Mary for the day and promised to come back tomorrow to continue. Working in that basement had been hell, but seeing Mary's face light up at the sight of her emptyish basement had made it almost worth it.
For the second time that day, she jumped into the shower trying to wash off the smell of that basement. Their fight this morning hurt her more than she wanted to admit. He barely looked at her, barely acknowledged her existence until he was basically yelling at her in a filthy basement. He wasn't listening, he thought she was selfish and self centered. She hadn't meant to be. She just didn't know how to face him after what happened. She always had a plan of attack, always knew how she would approach an issue regardless of how hard everything seemed. But ever since the institute crumbled she was on shaky ground. She wasn't used to dealing with emotions, much less her own. She felt like she was messing everything up. Her past was colliding with her present and she didn't know how to find her footing in the middle of it all. She could deal with her team being wary of her, but having her father view her with such distrust, maybe even disgust, was killing her. She hadn't meant for all this to get so out of hand. She was just trying to help Harry and his son, but now her father probably thought she was a cold blooded murderer. She wasn't sorry about what she did, not at all apologetic about what had happened, but maybe that was the problem. Maybe she should be sorry.
She wanted her father to be proud of her, wanted him to love her but perhaps she didn't deserve that. After finding him again, she felt like she was finally escaping her old life. Turning a new leaf and taking control of her life. But the past had come back and he had been forced to face who she was firsthand and he clearly didn't like it. It was one thing for him to accept what had happened when he wasn't around, because he didn't have to see it. He could leave the past in the past. But seeing it firsthand was something else. Maybe he saw her for the monster she really was no matter how much he claimed it didn't matter before. He couldn't ignore who she was anymore when he saw it in action.
Kelly leaned her head against the cool tiles of the shower and allowed the tears to flow freely. Her father loved the idea of her, but he obviously didn't love her for who she was right now. His words rang in her ears, torturing her.
Don't know who ya are. I expected more of you, Kelly. How could you?
She had made such a mess of things. The words were so heavy she slid down the wall and sat on the shower floor until the water ran cold.
Pulling herself up she turned off the water and stepped out to towel off. If a case didn't keep him away, her father would be home again tonight. Kelly threw on a long shirt and headed downstairs to make dinner. Her father would eat anything and she suddenly needed comfort food. Some people lost their appetite when they're stressed or sad but it just made Kelly hungry. She had a sudden craving for shrimp curry and rice. She tossed the ingredients in the slow cooker for on high for a few hours while she cleaned the house and did some laundry. She didn't want to give her father another reason to be angry with her and figured he'd be in a better mood if the house was spotless.
Her muscles screamed at her as she mopped the floor in the living room. She had already worn her muscle ragged from lifting, bending, and carrying all day. She winced at the thought of having to go back to Mary's again tomorrow. Her arms felt like putty but she kept pushing herself and moved on to basement to sweep and dust. There was something about being productive that made her feel useful and slightly better.
It was almost 7 o'clock and her father hadn't called all day to let her know whether he was coming home or not. He would probably wring her neck if she had done the same. She didn't really want to see him anyway. It would be awkward and right now it seemed better to make herself scarce. He would just ignore her anyway or worse, lecture her Zetes was angry with her or any of the other kids, they would just give him wide berth and let him simmer alone. She knew better than to get in his way when he was pissed with her. Being unable to read his mood or hanging around when her clearly needed space, never ended well for anyone. She had made that mistake once and saw others make it countless times.
Her room was the safest place for her and after watching a few shows on her computer, she dozed off to sleep to get ready for another early day.
By the time Gibbs had made it home, it was around 8 o'clock. The case had thankfully wrapped itself within the day and the team was gone without hesitation the second he dismissed them. He couldn't blame them. While the case hadn't been tough, he certainly had been. The team had gotten used to him being in a better mood, so the sharp change had startled them. He was still gruff and demanding but the lightness he felt within now that he had someone to live for was outwardly visible.
It wasn't until he was driving in to work that he had time to think about he and Kelly's conversation in Mary's basement. She had flinched like he would strike her. It wasn't just her reaction, but rather how reflexive the action was. Like she anticipated it, like she expected it. He slammed on the brakes and nearly hit the car in front of him in the middle of the intersection when he realized it. He wouldn't hit Kelly, but someone had before. More than once.
The realization made him pull to the side of the road and lose his breakfast on the side of the road. He already hated himself for what happened to her, already couldn't forgive himself for what that sick bastard had done to her. Seeing her fearful, innocent blue eyes in his head made his stomach retch uncontrollably. His hands shook as he grabbed the wheel catching breath again. He wanted to go back home to her, tell her he'd never hurt her but he doubted he had the words even if she was willing to listen to them. He'd only been a father again for a few months and he already felt like he was failing her again, messing her up even.
He pulled in his driveway around nine that evening to see Mary out front looking like she had just returned from a store run.
"Evenin' Ms. Winchester," he greeted cordially to the older woman. He never talked to any of his neighbors if he could avoid it but Mary had forced him into enough conversations and shoved enough banana bread down his throat over the years that he knew better than to not acknowledge her whenever they saw each other. She had forced herself in his life in a way that his more distant colleagues had never dared to and her tenacity had soften him to her.
"Oh, evening, Leroy! Just getting back from work?", she asked from her from her car.
"Mhmm, yes ma'am. Hope Kelly didn't give you too much trouble. She still with ya?"
"Oh good lord no, I let her go hours ago. She was just an absolute dream, Leroy. The whole basement is empty and Eleanor is just loving all the free space. She hardly made a peep all day and before I knew it I was rid of all that junk."
"I'm happy she got it all taken care for ya," he said genuinely. An old woman living in squalor because she was afraid to tell her kids because they may put her in a home was enough to make Gibb's blood boil.
"I can't wait for the rest to be finished. I must pay her back somehow for all this. She's doin' so much for me I don't want her to think I'm takin' advantage."
"Kelly likes projects, I'm sure she doesn't mind."
The two parted for the night and Gibbs rushed in the house expecting to see Kelly curled up on the couch watching a movie like she usually did late at night but the couch looked like it hadn't even been sat on. Instead Gibbs was met with mouthwatering smell of food and spices coming from the kitchen. The house smelled of fresh laundry, warm fragrance, and hints of cleaning product. He had seen her bike when he pulled in and it was too early for one of her insomnia strolls. He would bet she was upstairs somewhere.
Gibbs felt his stomach growl at smell of whatever Kelly had cooked. She had left plenty for him to have when he got back. He hadn't eaten anything much since this morning and since he lost that on the way in, he spent all day filling the hole in his stomach with coffee. He wasted no time making a bowl for himself, eating before he even had a chance to sit.
He checked her room and found her curled up in bed with only her night light on. She faced the window and her breath was steady, if not a little wheezy. The only sound in the room was the gentle puffing of her plug in nasal diffuser. Kelly had allergies in the summer that were no doubt exacerbated by all the dust and cat fur in Mary's basement. Gibbs felt a pang of guilt in his heart knowing her allergies made her uncomfortable enough to actually dig out the machine to help her. He grabbed some allergy medicine from the hallway closet and placed it gently on her nightstand for her to find in the morning before she went back in to alleviate the symptoms. He left a gentle kiss on her hair and shut the door.
The next few days followed much the same routine. Gibbs would come home to find dinner in the kitchen either on a plate or in the fridge for him. He wanted to talk to her but with Kelly now juggling work and helping Mary, he never actually got home in time to see her before she went to bed.
He knew for a fact that her team was out on a case this week that Kelly hadn't joined them on because she couldn't legally take on their full workload until she was 18 and Mary was out visiting her sister for a few days so the house was locked seeing her around the house was making him worry despite her being right above him in her room.
He sat in the basement decompressing from the day worrying about Kelly. His gut started to tell him that his little girl was avoiding him and that made his heart ache and his hand grip the item he was crafting just a little harder. He stared at the empty armchair in the basement that his daughter would occupy everytime she sat with him down there, He had been hard on Kelly, he knew that. She scared the life out of him and worried him nearly bald. But that didn't mean he was angry enough to not want to see her anymore. He would never be that angry. He missed her company, her soft voice chattering away about her day. Her silly stories and giggles that chased the darkness of the work day away. Now he wasn't sure she wanted much to do with hi at all.
He rolled around the jewelry box she had asked him for one night in his hands. It was coming along beautifully with its intricate carvings and designs. He worried that perhaps she resented him for punishing her. Just the thought of her hating him made his chest tighten and lump form in his throat.
It was easier to punish one of his agents for making a mistake that could cost them their lives or endanger members of the team. He had no problem making DiNozzo or Ziva do piles of paperwork as punishment to make them better agents. No qualms about making them suffer to learn a hard lesson because they could take it. But punishing Kelly was like trying to punish Abby.
He hated punishing Kelly. Always had. Hated seeing her soft blue eyes cloud over with tears when he had to reprimand her even as a kid. It didn't happen often. She had always been a good kid. Rather mischievous, but still well-behaved. She wasn't much different now. She was just upstairs sleeping yet she felt farther than that. He wasn't sure how to close the gap that existed between them. He had never been much of a communicator and didn't express his feelings very well. He had three failed marriages that could attest that fact. But standing up from his seat and heading to kitchen, he knew what he had to do and began making Kelly her favorite apple cider with cinnamon sticks. Something he used to always do whenever they had tough conversations at night when she was a kid. He may have failed and given up on trying to be a decent husband to all his wives, but he knew as long as he had breath in his body he would never stop trying to be the father his Kelly deserved. He had gotten a second chance with her and he'd be a fool to waste it.
Gibbs made his way upstairs to her room, drinks in hand. Her lights were off and she lay with her back turned sleeping under her covers. He had heard moving around about 20 minutes ago going to the bathroom, so she couldn't be too far gone. He placed her drink on bedside table and nudged her gently not wanting to startle her.
"Kels? Sweetheart, wake up."
Kelly moaned and turned to face him looking at him pouting adorably at being woken up.
"Mhmm," she mumbled.
"Gotta talk to ya, baby girl."
She looked at him like she was seeing him for the first time and sat up and looked at the mug in his hand, her features clearing as she understood why he was here so late. She bit her lip and asked, "You going off to war again or something?"
Gibbs smirked happy she at least wasn't too pissed to talk to him and shook his head looking down at his drink. "Nah, little old for that now, Kels."
He handed her the mug on the table, "Do need to talk to you though."
"Okay," she said not wanting to look at him when he told her he didn't want her around anymore.
They both had let too much time stretch between them and let a lot of crap accumulate that they now had to talk about. Gibbs swallowed his uncertainty, determined to get past this obstacle between them. He started with what bothered him most.
"Need ya to know that I'd never hurt you. Wouldn't dream of hittin ya," he said gently.
She looked taken aback with where he started and watched as her eyes glazed over and avoid his gaze.
"I know that," she whispered. She did know that. Her reaction had only been a reflex. Something she had been conditioned over time to do. It wasn't anything she had or would associate with her dad.
"Wanna talk about it?"
Her face scrunched at the bed spread as she considered his offer. She didn't really want to delve back in to this knowing it would hurt him more than it would her. Despite everything that had happened with Zetes, she had long made peace with it and refused to let him steal another precious moment of her life by allowing his memory to taint her present and future. Truthfully, she only wanted to protect her dad, the man who had been through more than he should have had to bear, from anymore pain. But considering everything that had happened, perhaps being upfront with him was best.
Still staring at the bedspread she started, "Used to get smacked around when I didn't do a good job. Nothing too serious, just enough to make me do better." She was trying to be honest but she still downplayed it. Zetes wouldn't just smack her, he'd kick her in the ribs or shove her against walls.
Gibbs saw through the hesitation, knowing she was downplaying it for his sake. He tried to control his anger that made him see red whenever Zetes was brought up. He didn't want her to think he was upset with her.
"This happen often?" Her knee jerk reaction was to say no, but she didn't want to have to lie to him.
"Only when I deserved it or failed to keep the others in line. The team was my responsibility so I was punished if someone goofed. Not a big deal."
"Kelly Marie, you do not nor did ya ever deserve to be beaten regardless of what you or anyone else did. You understand me?"
She nodded and whispered, "Okay." No one had really ever told her that. They had all just accepted what was thrown their way, never really considering whether it was right. Wouldn't change anything anyway.
Gibbs sighed, at least one thing was down. "Ya wanna tell me what actually happened with this Harry person?"
Her face screwed up remembering the bug in her phone, "Don't you already know?" She wasn't able to keep some of the venom out of her voice.
He sighed,"Found the bug did ya?"
She leveled his own glare at him in response.
"Ya weren't exactly being honest. What ya did was dangerous Kelly. Don think you understand that."
Kelly paused and considered her next words. She had told him what she had been through in the boat but never really went in to details. So before she could stop herself she said, "When I was 8 years old Zetes placed me in an auction for children in the sex trade. Pedophiles pay a lot of money for healthy children, especially the high end international markets. My job, one of my first missions, was escaping and setting free everyone else. I managed to do and freed around 70 girls over the course of 3 days by distracting the guards at night by telling them stories to keep them distracted. That was dangerous. I had no idea what I was doing. Robbing a bank of classified intel and then pretending to be one the hostages in order to escape in Colombia was a gamble, but more fun than anything. Shutting down a terrorist organization from within in Israel, was certainly more pressing. Especially after losing a teammate. And escaping a factory explosion by taking an old mining tunnel out, was a definite risk. I have issues with classifying things as dangerous because of the majority of my childhood was spent doing things most people don't live to talk about. That cartel stunt was a cakewalk."
Gibbs closed his eyes and took a deep breath trying to absorb everything she told him. And shook his head of the imagery. If he told her to be honest, he had to be ready to hear the truth.
"S'not that I don't think you're capable, Kels. I know that ya are. But no matter how much I see you do, or how much ya tell me about my heart's still gonna stop at the sight of guys with military grade weapons surrounding you. If ya hadn't put on that fire show of yours, I was gonna take as many of them out as I could with my government gun."
"That's suicide," Kelly hissed. Just the thought of her father jumping in to distract those animals from killing her made her vision tilt. "You could have been killed."
Gibbs looked at daughter and said in haunted voice, "If dyin to protect you is what keeps me from ever having to bury ya again, then I'd do it every time. Without hesitation."
"Daddy.." She choked around her tears not quite able to speak. She didn't want to think of her father dying. She'd be lost if something were to happen to if it were because of her.
"Wasn't mad at you because of what ya did. I know why ya did it. Heard ya talk about it. Was upset because you laid your life on the line. Coulda helped you."
She looked down, rather ashamed that despite trying to keep him from getting hurt, she ended up hurting him in the only way that mattered to him, "Why didn't ya come to me, Kels?"
"Because I didn't want you to get in trouble if something happened. The police couldn't have helped someone that didn't technically exist. They would have made a mess of a bunch of little things and thrown the book at him and called it justice. Going through official channels wouldn't have saved anybody but the cartel. If something would have gone wrong, I didn't want you involved. You could have been arrested, or lost your job."
"You could have been arrested or lost your job,"
"If I got arrested I would just get released. And you and I both know I'm just going through the motions at work."
Gibbs rubbed his face, a bit exasperated. He was frustrated but he knew where she was coming from. She had only been preserve his job and reputation. But that wasn't her job to decide that for him.
"Okay, promise me something. From now on, we don't lie to each other. I wanna to know everything, regardless of what it is."
"Everything?"
"Yeah, cause cuttin details is what got us here. You can tell me anything, Kels. Only gonna get mad if you lie about it. Ya mean more to me than my job and reputation, and if I lose either one of those protecting you then I can live with that."
"But I can't," she said in a small voice.
"Let me worry bout that."
She just looked away.
"One more thing, rule #3: never be unreachable. Answer your damn phone when I call you."
Kelly groaned, "Thought you would have put the rules to rest."
"Nope. Live by 'em."
Kelly rolled her eyes and wondered if his team knew about these rules. She could recite them by heart.
"We okay, Dad?," she asked uncertain after a pause.
Gibbs hugged her to his side and kissed her forehead, "We always were, Kels. No matter what, don't ya ever be afraid to come home or talk to me about something."
Kelly snuggled into his side and buried her face in his shoulder. "Deal."
They spent the rest of the night catching up over the past few days. He wanted to know all about her first case and if the team worked well together. She asked him about his work and team and he told her funny stories about the agents she hoped to meet someday. Nestled into his lap she let his stories put her sleep.
Author's Note: This took forever, sorry guys. I have some images if anyone is curious about what Kelly looks like, her car, the living room, or bedroom theme all in my profile. As always, review away
