"Diane looked down at her lap, admiring the sleeping boy. Baxter was behaving nicely, curled up against his side. She had taken him out of his wet, sandy clothes leaving him in his boxers, then wrapped a big, wool blanket around him. She gasped when she noticed a scrape on his chin. She checked the palms of his hands realizing they were scraped, too.
His hair was full of sand and he smelled of ocean air, bananas and coconut sunblock.
"Looks like I entered you into a rodeo with all these scrapes." She felt bad but for the most part felt their day had been exceptionally fun. The weather was gorgeous, and filled with much needed laughter, for the both of them.
As soon as he woke she would get him in the bath, get him bandaged up then begin dinner. She would make sure his clothes were washed so she could take him shopping in the morning for necessities.
She looked around the living room observing the evidence of their day, his wet pants in a ball on the floor, small puddles of seawater from her water shoes, and a long trail of sand on the wood floor's surface. Well, it would all have to wait before she took the time to clean it up.
When they had returned she had thought for sure Michael would be back but there was no sign of him. He often did this when he visited her, basically using her residence for a place to stay. But she had expected things to be different this time, how could he just leave his toddler son behind?
Diane had not known Michael when he was Tim's age. She and his father had been estranged for years before she was introduced to a teen , Michael.
She was certain, after all these years, the traumatic death of his father, was still affecting Michael. He harbored a tremendous amount of guilt because of his death, too young at the time to grasp the concept that it wasn't his fault. Diane felt Michael had not matured since the incident, holding onto the debilitating guilt like a security blanket; an excuse he often used for all his shortcomings. He was his own worst enemy. He needed professional help...
She thought of turning on the television but the remote was clear across the room. She quickly rejected that idea. She hadn't turned the television on in days, between traveling to get here then the time she spent with Tim. She smiled, realizing that she didn't even miss it.
She yawned then was hit with a sudden urge to wiggle free from Tim, to begin dinner and the laundry. It was getting late and she had a lot of chores she had to tackle.
Tim yawned then stretched, mumbling in his sleep; something about fluffernutters.
She happily sighed then leaned back enjoying the soothing quiet. She looked at Tim, brushing his hair from his forehead. He sighed then smiled in his sleep. He drew his legs close to his chest then snuggled in closer, one hand rolling into a fist fitting under his chin, the other hand hugging Abigail.
She was enjoying the opportunity to watch him sleep...so content, peaceful...that beautiful face.
Yeah. She was going to enjoy every moment of this sweet, little boy. Cleaning could wait.
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"Pick me up in two hours, Mike.
"Probie! Six and no less. I'm gonna call Jenny and ask if you're awake before I even think about heading back over here to pick you up."
"Mike!" Gibbs controlled his aggravation. "Four." Gibbs mentally soved the problem, knowing he could just ask Jen to drive him in.
Worried over Gibbs' lack of sleep, Mike dropped Gibbs off at home. He knew Tim's abduction was killing him so he wanted to do what he could to help. Mike was pleased with the large amount of support Probie was receiving from his friends and family. And, Mike knew Gibbs would go to Hell and back to bring Tim home safe and sound, but he was there to make sure his Probie didn't have to, Mike would do that for him if necessary.
"Don't worry, Probie, I got your six, I'm heading back to the navy yard now to... "
"Hey... why do you get to go back and keep working?"
"Don't you remember, Jethro. Ol' Franks here doesn't require more than an hour's sleep at night."
"Because of all those damn cigars."
"You never mind why. We're gonna get mini probie back, honest as all get-go.'"
Gibbs was a man of few words so Mike didn't wait for a token of thanks. Mike knew Jethro enough to know he was guarding his emotions, nervous he would succumb to tears within his presence.
Franks squeezed Gibbs' shoulder, offering a reassuring smile as he exited the vehicle. Gibbs leaned a hand on the door looking in to give Mike an indebted nod and smile.
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Gibbs slid in his socks over the smooth surface of the wood floors through his dark home striving to be virtually silent. He opened Tony's bedroom door peeking in, moving closer to get a better look. He was sleeping soundly, hugging Sam. Gibbs bent over kissing him on the top of his head watching him breath, finding the rhythm of the movement, comforting. He pulled Tony's blanket up around his shoulders then closed the door gently behind him.
He slowly opened his bedroom door to find Jen startled, rapidly sitting up in bed then sighing in relief. "Oh Jethro."
"I'm sorry, if I scared you. I tried to be quiet..."
"I know; you were. I just haven't been sleeping well. I wake up so easily." Gibbs sat down on the side of the bed next to her.
He cupped her face with his hand. "Understandable."
She leaned closer to him, her expression one of utmost concern as she studied his face. "Oh sweetheart." She ran a hand through his hair. "How are you holding up? You have got to be beyond exhausted."
He looked down, not sure if he had the strength to hide his unpredictable vulnerability from her right now.
"And please. None of this gallant, "I'm fine" crap.
"Don't worry. I couldn't if I tried. I just don't have the energy." His hands rubbed over his face concentrating on his tired eyes, wishing he could erase the earned evidence of sleep loss. "It's been two days since he was taken, Jen...with no sightings."
He raised his palm in disbelief then placed it on his thigh. "Thank God for your help...if it wasn't for you we'd have absolutely nothing."
Jen smiled empathetically.
"How's Tony?"
"He's as well as can be expected. Pretty down but I managed to get him to play in the backyard for a while. He needed the release. He seemed better afterwards. It's as if he feels guilty letting himself be happy."
"I'll talk to him."
"Little Abby stopped over with her mother and they dropped off a casserole. They stayed for a while and Abby had him laughing at one of her new dance moves. Before I knew it, music was playing in the living room and they were dancing on the couches. She's a good friend, we really are blessed at the outpouring of friends and their support."
"I know, the overwhelming response from all the parents at the daycare-it's amazing, all the kids' friends...I'm just blown away." Gibbs' voice cracked as he suddenly bent over, holding his face in his hands. His shoulders shook from the sobs that he could no longer control. Jen pulled him close trying to hold him upright as his body collapsed into her arms.
"Come here, Jethro, get some sleep, you need it. You need rest." She rocked him as she would have one of the boys. He lay down next to her as she held him close to her chest. She felt the exhaustion finally consume him as he cried himself to sleep.
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Diane walked through her bedroom trying to find more clothes to wash along with Tim's wet, beach clothes. This would be the smallest load of laundry she had ever washed; his clothes were so... small.
She started the machine then returned to the kitchen where she had left him; kneeling at the counter. He was playing with a small clump of play-doh, a prize she pulled out of a box of Fruity Pebbles; truly, her favorite cereal.
"See? I made an el..phalent."
"Uncanny resemblance, good trunk structure."
"Danks."
She wondered if he could possibly understand her sarcastic replies at times.
"So, time to start dinner..."
"Shhhhpaghetti?"
"I could do that. But I'll make a side of string beans, too."
Tim closed one eye as his face scrunched up in confusion, his head tilted to the side. "String beans?"
"You know. Those long, green things."
"Peas?"
"So, you much prefer the short, green things?"
"Okay."
"Mmmm, I believe I've just been manipulated by the youngest man I've ever had the pleasure to know."
"Sowery."
Diane's eyes popped out for a second, with astonishment. She shook her head.
"So, Tim. Whatdya say we go shopping tomorrow? We could get some ice cream when we're done."
Time seemed to think about it before he answered her. "Okay." Tim wiggled on his knees excited with the idea.
"I really don't know when your dad will be back and you really need some things."
"My dad!"
"Yeah..Mike."
"Oh."
"What was the man's name that took care of you before?"
"Dad?"
Yeah."
Tim thought for a moment. "Gibb. His bestest friend is Doby."
"Is Doby, I mean Toby nice?"
"He gives me bubble gum, but says don tell dad. I think he runs out and has none more for him."
"Why do you call your mom Jenny?"
"Because dat's her name."
Diane was growing accustomed to their communication barrier, he was just a little guy. She was beginning to get a handle on his language, plus it made her smile.
She envied Jenny. This Gibb must be an honorable man. At least from Tim's perspective, he seemed to be a very nurturing, loving father. And Diane took great stock in Tim's credibility. Maybe his friend Toby was a good guy and possibly single?
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Diane found a t-shirt of hers that Tim could wear to bed.
"Why does the shirt have sparkly things on it?" Tim's hands wrung together in question towards his approval of the shirt.
"I agree, too feminine. Diane searched deeper in the drawer finding a plain blue shirt. "Ahhh, yes, much better." Tim raised his hands as she slipped the t-shirt over his head, the edge falling to the floor covering his feet.
"Danks."
He patted his chest happy with her choice then yawned, big. He started to climb onto Diane's bed but not without a struggle. She watched his determination as he grunted and clawed his way to the top. Tim crawled under the covers smiling.
"And what do you think you're doing, climbing into my bed?"
His eyes were closing as she could tell he was enjoying breathing in the fresh scent of the clean sheets and enjoying their cool, crisp touch. She had just put them on minutes ago.
"I'm sleepin.'" Tim pretended to make snoring noises. He squeezed his eyes closed then cracked a peek to see if she was accepting his fib.
Well, she liked the fact he would be close by then she wouldn't have to worry about Michael taking him during the night. She was really going to have to come up with a plan. Once she bought him some clothes and the necessary items, she would figure out her next step. All she knew right now was she was exhausted; a happy, content, accomplished exhausted. Something she had not felt in years.