I DO NOT OWN NCIS OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS.
A/N I hope you like it so far. Any advice or suggestions are appreciated. Thanks for reading.
This is a turning point in young Gibbs life. Knew it was coming, but still hard to take….
Chapter 12
That summer seemed to pass quickly. Jethro and his friends had learned to make sling shots and had occasionally worked themselves into some trouble.
Jethro didn't get caught near as often, but was usually found guilty by association. He played the self-righteous victim, but took the consequences in stride. Wreaking a little havoc in the lives of his tormentors was worth it all. For their part Chuck and Eddie wasted less time on him, deciding to use a page out of Jethro's playbook and planned their next attack.
Returning to school and all its doldrums wasn't something any of them looked forward to. Jethro was sensing something different at home, but nothing he could name. It just seemed he saw less of his parents together than he could ever recall, especially on Sundays when his dad was home all day. Jack would spend most of his time in the garage or finding some work or other to do in the yard.
Jethro never really heard them argue and they didn't seem angry with each other. He didn't know what you'd call them, but he watched them.
Thanksgiving that year was shared as usual with his paternal grandparents. His grandmother eyed her son and daughter-in-law carefully. Jethro saw her shake her head sadly, but not in an obvious way. She noticed Jethro watching her and gave him a quick smile.
Grandpa Gibbs must've noticed something as well. After dinner he asked Jack to have a talk with him. They went out to the garage. Jethro escaped to his bedroom to watch them, cracking his window to try and hear what they were saying.
"What's going on here Jackson?" grandpa queried with a hard voice that wanted nothing but the truth.
"I'm not sure Dad," he shook his head. Seeing the unwavering stare of his father he continued, "It's the truth. All I do know is the past few months something's changed. Marie won't talk to me about it. Frankly, I've just gotten tired of trying." He hung his head in despair or maybe shame.
"So you're just letting things fester and fall apart. It's not just the two of you that is affected. Leroy is very observant and you best try to straighten things out." It was an order.
"Yes, sir," Jackson sounded almost like a chastised child.
Jethro would've found humor in it, except what he'd been sensing had been true. Something was wrong with his parents. What was he going to do?
Meanwhile, Marie found herself in a similar discussion with her mother-in-law.
"You seem distracted," Grandma Gibbs stated.
"I guess," Marie shrugged. "The last four months or so, I've just found difficult. Nothing I could outright name, just…" she waved her hand dismissively.
"Don't be so flippant! Your son sees what's happening. Fix it! He deserves a happy family," grandma gave her own edict.
Marie could only nod, tears now forming in her eyes. The last thing she'd want would be to hurt Jethro.
The next few months his parents tried, but it was obvious even to a now ten year old that it was only for appearances sake. Certain it must be something his father did to upset his mother, Jethro tried to spend more time with her or helping her out.
It was spring when his world fell apart. He came home from school to find the house empty. No sign of his mother or a note stating where she'd gone or when she'd return could be found. An ache formed in Jethro's stomach. Something was very wrong.
He headed down the road toward the mine. About a mile or so down he caught a glimpse of sun reflecting in a copse of trees along the side of the road. Making his way into the narrow ditch he recognized his parents' car flipped upside down. The front end was split by the tree that it was embedded in.
Frozen for a spell he inched forward. Hoping somehow it was a trick of light or perhaps a different car. But when he got to the side of the car he saw her. She was covered in blood, some of it already browning. She was covered with shards of glass from the shattered windshield, stray rays of light making them glisten.
Shaking his head furiously he began to scream, "No, no, no" over and over. He must've been rather loud, because soon he could hear car doors slamming and voices calling, but he didn't know what they were saying.
Someone lifted him and carried him back to the road. He suddenly felt the distance between himself and his mother and tried to return to the car, but strong arms held him in place. He heard the man say, "Stay here. You don't want to see her like that."
He tried to glower at the voice but the tears he was shedding completely unaware prevented it. Time ceased to exist, but a familiar embrace soon encompassed him.
It shocked even himself that he found no comfort in that embrace. Though he could hear his father's own cries of despair, he felt no desire to console him or be consoled by him.
Not even trying to figure out what that meant, he just let the emptiness envelope him.
The next few days were a blur. He'd barely accepted that his mother was dead, so the wake and the funeral were surreal. Even his friends were forgotten, though they tried as best as little boys could to be there for him. Neither Lenny nor Marty could comprehend the loss that Jethro was suffering. Jackson tried to talk to him, but his son stubbornly ignored him. It was almost like the behavior Marie had expressed.
Jethro managed to pay enough attention in school to keep his grades steady, but he was becoming very much the loner. There were only a few times that the shared time with his friends and soon they stopped trying.
That summer after turning eleven his grandparents invited him to spend time with them. Rather than having him home alone for too many hours in the day, they could try to engage him in other activities. Grandpa Gibbs owned a Remington XP-100. He decided, with his grandfather's supervision only to teach his grandson how to shoot. The first time he managed to align the sight and hit the target as smile ghosted across his face. Grandma Gibbs wasn't thrilled about the firearm lessons, but the sight of that smile made her set aside all her aspersions.
Jethro found a real talent for shooting with very little practice. He tried once to go off on his own, but the consequence for that little escapade was dealt with swiftly and left a stinging reminder for three days. Grandpa certainly had meant it when he said under his supervision only.
Jethro began to think about his father's rifle. He hadn't thought about it in a long time, but he wondered what the similarities and differences were in technique and form between his grandfather's pistol and that rifle. He didn't forget the NEVER touch rule and wasn't in any hurry to see if his dad had changed his mind. There was a fat chance of that happening EVER.
On the Fourth of July the family attended the city's annual picnic. Jethro had been able to procure some small, but loud fireworks of his own. He wasn't sure exactly what he was going to do with them, but the situation invited itself; when everyone quieted down to listen to the mayor's speech. Sneaking behind the raised platform he lit a few of the cherry bombs and tossed them a good two feet behind the podium. The bang echoed across the park through the sound system and Jethro couldn't help but laugh- pure mirth filled him. That was until his father spied him and called him out.
Jethro offered up an apology not quite heartfelt but certainly fear-filled. It didn't take Jackson long to remember his role as a father I disciplining his son. He wished this closeness to his son could have been shared in a more genteel manner, but any displays of affection that he'd offered were quickly rebuffed. Even when he had finished with his duty his attempt to comfort Jethro was negated. His son just turned away from him and retreated to his grandparents. Not that they were any more pleased with his actions. Frankly his grandfather looked ready to enact his own round of discipline on the young lad.
Jethro knew his anger was uncalled for, but it seemed the only emotion he had left for his father. That August his father suffered yet another accident in the mine. This time he was pinned beneath a pile of rocks. After being rescued and taken to the hospital he knew his days in the mine were done. His hip had been broken and though the doctor had set it as best as he could, it just didn't heal 100%. While he was recuperating he managed to finalize his business dealing and took over the ownership of the town's general store. This would work out well for Jethro too, he believed. Jethro could help out in the store and spend he would have more time to spend with him every day.
Not exactly thrilled with the idea, Jethro didn't argue. He performed all the tasks his dad asked of him, but with no enthusiasm and when he was finished went off to be by himself.
