Chapter Twenty-One: Kate and the Second Life
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There's something Kate has never wanted to see, and it's Gibbs sitting alone on the empty road after his family fade from his arms. She doesn't hear what they say to each other in those final moments and she's glad for it. That's for them to know… that's for them.
But she's always going to be haunted by watching him kiss his wife that one last time.
"Gibbs, I'm sorry," she says when he finally stands and makes his unsteady way back to them. There are tears on his face, under the dust, and he doesn't seem to notice that he's still bleeding from a nasty gouge out of his shoulder. "Christ, I'm so sorry."
"Nothing to be sorry for," he says and then does something completely unexpected: he smiles. "Got to say goodbye. I'm damn lucky."
And she's never going to forget how real that smile is either.
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They help move people on. It's hard, exhausting work when all they want to do is move on themselves, leave this place and everything here. Kate finds herself helping to wrangle volunteers to find injured survivors, helping corral medical and emergency personnel into some kind of order. By the time the streets are cleared of the injured and the dead, the sun has set and risen again and she's so tired she can't even think.
"Where's everyone else?" she asks Tony when she finds him helping to move cars off the street, clearing paths for emergency vehicles. He's disgustingly dirty, wearing a shirt that isn't his that doesn't do a very good job of hiding the rough bandages he's stuck over the gashes in his back. Putting aside the haunting worry that she's going to fade too—because there are still some spirits lingering, some even helping lead rescuers to people needing help—she helps him by steering the car he's moving as he pushes.
"Ducky finally got Gibbs and Ziva to the hospital," he says finally when they're done, wiping sweat from his eyes and looking around at what the hazy dawn is revealing around them. "Tim's gone to find his sister. Abby is helping get the spirits to the area the FBI is corralling them in until they can work out what they want, and Palmer is helping the search teams."
"Spirits are hanging around?" she asks, her fake heart thumping.
"Yeah. Sounds like some of them don't want to give this up, living again." He looks at her and grins tiredly. "Stubborn shits. Guess what?"
"What?" she asks.
But he doesn't tell her then, just winks and gestures for her to follow.
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It's a station for the marines who are helping the rescue efforts that he takes her to, strolling into the command centre without even pausing. "Found her," he says as Kate follows, wondering who the hell he's talking to.
She finds out fast.
"Kate," says Jenny Shepard, looking tired and glowy and very dead. A spirit for sure. "Glad you're still here. We've got work to do before we're done."
"Stubborn," Tony murmurs from behind Kate, a grin in the tone of his voice. She considers kicking him but, really, she's glad he's there to be sassy.
And hell, she is stubborn. She's not done yet—there's so much more she wants to do before the end.
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And these are the days that follow.
Jenny only stays until hours before the funeral for her body. It's a strange thing, saying goodbye to the spirit separately from the body, but Kate is pretty glad they have the chance. She says she's done tying up loose ends and that she's happy to go, and that's all she tells them.
Gibbs, Kate assumes, she tells a lot more, because they close themselves off in Jenny's office for the longest time and Gibbs just looks tired when he comes out.
The funeral is beautiful. Saying goodbye hurts. But everyone dies eventually, even Jenny Shepard. Even Kate.
She begins to wonder how long she has left to linger.
The death toll rises. By the time they're done, counting the victims of the Banes and the fear and the panic, it's almost at fifteen hundred. DC sinks into a mourning that's not going to end anytime soon, but there's something else among the grief. Kate watches and sees more than just sadness.
There are memorials over every part of the city. She looks for the people who are helping and finds them everywhere, on every street and at every station set up for the people who need help. The FBI take it upon themselves to find every spirit left behind and reunite them with their families, so they can fade back quietly into the fog where they belong. The dragons, once finished mourning those they've lost, fly over the city singing songs of hope and loss and love, everyone who hears them touched by the music.
And, at every memorial, on every TV segment set aside to discuss the tragedy, everyone speaks of the same thing: that, when the world had seemed to be ending, it hadn't mattered what anyone was. It hadn't mattered who they'd been standing next to when the Hunt rode, it hadn't mattered if they were human or werewolf or elf or vampire. All that had mattered was that they were American, that they were people. That they were alive to stand together. They talked of the vampires' heroism, of the mages who'd helped the military hold back the Banes, of those who'd helped break the shield.
It's a grieving DC; it's also a united DC.
Kate's awed to be alive to see it.
They find bodies that are untouched, more than they could have imagined they would. The Wild Hunt had shown no mercy. In his prison cell, Mikel Mawher is found dead. The lead necromancer whose name they'd never learned is gone too, despite being locked in a government cell. When the Hunt rode, there was nowhere safe to hide.
Tony is very quiet when Kate asks him what will happen to the bitten vampires left now. It's not just the necromancers who were decimated by the Wild Hunt—every vampire involved with the VFD, with the stealing and turning of the children, was taken too. Those that remain are revoked of their special status within the city, placed under the same Rule of Law as every other being there. They don't protest; no vampire is untouched by the betrayal of their kin. Kate and Gibbs are with Tony when the news comes that his father's body was found. They're there when he's told that, unlike the other vampires who had been fought hunched and terrified, their bodies untouched, Senior had died calm. Died smiling. Repentance. It's cruel, but Kate doubts the Hunt has ever shown mercy. Well, rarely ever.
Ducky and Abby live. Kate wonders why, but doesn't ask.
Tony deals with his father's death alone. Sometimes, over those following days, Kate catches him looking thoughtful. The bitten vampires are still alive—the Hunt hadn't taken them. Some return to their lives, knowing what they are. The rest are lost. Just lingering, like the spirits left behind but with none of the determination.
"They're not your responsibility," she reminds him quietly, catching him going through a file with each of their names.
"Yes, they are," he says finally, closing that file with a snap. "I'm the last of my family, and I was spared for a reason."
"You were spared because you didn't have anything to do with it." After all, Jeanne Benoit is still alive. The Hunt might be thorough, but they don't punish the children for the sins of their parents.
"No," he says, standing up and walking away. "I was spared because I needed to be."
And that's all she gets out of him about it, even as they watch as CPS finally comes for the little bitten vampire girl Ziva had found. It's not a nice scene. The girl doesn't want to go, crying the entire time as she fights to get back to Ziva, but it's a necessary scene. She'll have to be found a home for, although Kate doesn't know where.
"Can't her family take her?" she asks Ziva, who is hunched by her desk trying to ignore the crying, her own mouth thin and eyes bright. Kate gets the distinct impression that, if it wasn't for the cast on her leg and the crutches she's stuck on, Ziva would be over there fighting for the girl to stay too.
"They were offered," Ziva says finally, the bitterness in her voice chilling. "They declined."
"She's not who she was," Tony adds.
Gibbs says nothing, just stands and walks to the girl. "Hold my hand," he says. The girl, surprisingly, does. "Good. Now, come on. We'll walk together. Ziva?"
Ziva's head lifts. She is crying, Kate realises, flushing hot with second-hand embarrassment for the normally tough-as-nails woman.
"Coming?"
And, without a word, Ziva gets up, picks up her crutches, and goes. When they come back alone, no one mentions it. Goodbyes suck.
Kate's learning to hate them herself.
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It's two weeks later when things begin to settle down into a fractured kind of normality. Kate hasn't faded and the others have sort of stopped watching her warily, as though they're kind of expecting her to at any minute.
She needs to go see her family, but she's terrified of it too. What if she goes and that's all that it takes for her to vanish? She doesn't want to fade—she loves the sun and the moon and these people too much to let them go, even if she's desperate to find her brothers and sister and dad. They don't even know that she's back…
She's there the day that Fornell shows up, asking to see Tony and Gibbs. Ziva's benched with her leg, her scowl following them out as Kate jogs after them.
"Been slowly working through the spirits, those that don't have family to speak for them," Fornell tells them as they step out of the building and walk together across the lawn. "Only really got the hard-cases left. Those whose family are hard to find, those too young to help us out much. Got two of these with something in common."
"What's that?" Gibbs asks.
"You two. They're asking for you. Couple of kids."
Mystified, Tony and Gibbs exchange a look. Kate hovers, unsure of her welcome but curious as all hell.
"Well, we better go see what they want," Gibbs says finally. "Come on, Todd. Keep up."
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Gibbs makes a strange noise when they walk through the door and find who is waiting in there for them, one of the kids sitting on the floor drawing on a sheet of paper and the other kneeling beside watching silently. Kate's surprised by the drawing; most of the spirits they'd brought back weren't anywhere near as corporal as she is, unable to pick things up. By the looks of the older kid, he can't.
Kate knows the one drawing though, and so does Tony.
"Hi, Sammy," she says, walking up and sitting next to him. He smiles happily at her, pushing his drawing forward shyly. So much more alive than when he'd wandered the dead paths, even though she knows it's only an illusion.
The other kid just watches Gibbs and Tony nervously, his tail flicking. He's not human. He's some kind of centaur thing, half deer, half human, with shy brown eyes and small antlers. Kate looks at his skinny body half-hunched to hide his height, knobbly knees tucked in. There's something heartbreaking about his ruffled curls and the neatly pressed sweater he's wearing, something loved and lost.
"I asked for you," the centaur-boy says to Gibbs, fluffy tail flicking again as he hugs his arms around his torso nervously. "Asked for a wolf with grey fur and blue eyes and a hurt shoulder… Agent Fornell said he knew exactly who I was asking for."
"Kid said you were intimidating as all heck," Fornell says from the doorway. "Course it was you."
Gibbs just stares, something ghastly crossing his face. "You… you were aware?" he breathes. Tony just looks ill.
But the boy shakes his head. "No," he says. "I… I was watching. I don't know why I came back, no one called me through that wall… but I knew I had to get through. I could feel my body, somewhere. I couldn't escape it, even though I kept trying. It hurt. Everything that happened to it, I felt, and it felt so… sick and horrible…" He holds up his hands, the narrow fingers just barely translucent. "I could see this horrible magic all through my hands and my body like it was some kind of poison. And the feeling in my head, like I wanted to kill things—I could feel that too. And then when I got through the wall, I was dragged towards it, like a nightmare… and I found you, and him, stopping me. It should have hurt, but it didn't. It didn't. And I wanted you to know that it didn't hurt because you looked sad to be fighting me."
There's quiet in the room as the boy comes to a shaky stop, his thin chest heaving as he breathes fast and shallow.
"Anyway," he mumbles, blushing and flickering. "Thank you. I feel… better now. I feel better. Like maybe if I go back to the foggy paths now, I won't be so trapped anymore."
"I'm sorry that happened to you," Gibbs says roughly.
The boy shrugs. "Dying wasn't so bad, I guess. It was fast. They were trying to catch me for… I don't know, something horrible probably, but they messed up. I got killed and that was okay, but then they brought me back and that was…" He shuddered. "I wish I could see my family again though. They don't know what happened to me. And they're not in DC and I don't think I can go to them… it's so far away, I can barely feel them."
"What's your name, kid?" Tony asks. The boy looks at him, hope in the eyes that are just slightly too big for a human face. "Maybe if we know your name, we can find them for you."
"It's Aaron," the boy says, tail flicking once more. "Aaron Robson. My parents are Marie and Elliot, from Jasper, in Canada. I don't know how to reach them… we don't exactly have a landline." He looks down at his hands, the hands that are fading as they watch. "And I don't think I have much time…"
"I'll find them for you, Aaron," Gibbs promises. Kate's heart breaks a little for the pain in both their voices right then, and the way they look at each other, this lost boy and the man who grieves him. "I'll tell them you're free now."
Aaron smiles sadly. "Thank," he replies, his voice already a whisper. "My friends call me Art."
And, just like that, he's gone.
In the quiet that follows, Sammy still adding the finishing touches to his drawing—Kate looks at it and breathes through the hurt that seeing the deer-shaped figure he's drawing brings—Fornell steps forward. "We looked him up," he tells Gibbs. "Got a rough area to send Mounties too, if you want to get them to do it. Or we can get you over there."
"I'm going," Gibbs says shortly. "My job to do, Tobias. One question."
"What's that?"
Gibbs is still looking at the empty space where the spirit had been. "How old was he?"
Tony doesn't look like he wants the answer to this, but they get one anyway.
"Eleven last month, if he'd been alive. Was taken when he was ten."
Maybe it's a good thing the Hunt took every necromancer, Kate thinks at that moment. Otherwise, she doubts Gibbs would stop until he'd killed every last one himself.
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Before Gibbs leaves to go see Art's family, he comes with them to take Sammy home. It's a hard ride and, Kate knows, it's not going to get any easier. Tony sits rigidly in the front seat, ignoring the argument Kate is having with Sammy over whether he needs to wear a seatbelt or not, the file on Sammy's family—his family—sitting untouched in his lap. Gibbs drives. Neither of the two men speak, until they draw up outside a family home in Manassas, Virginia, and stare in at the empty front yard. They'd called ahead. The people in there know that they're bringing their son's spirit home to them.
They don't know about Tony.
"You need me—" Gibbs begins, but Tony shakes his head and robotically undoes his seatbelt. "Tony… you don't need to do this alone."
"I'm not alone," Tony says finally, the first time he's spoken all day. He looks back at Sammy and smiles. "Come on, squirt. Let's go see your mommy and daddy, okay?"
"Okay!" Sammy says, bouncing out of the car.
Kate and Gibbs watch them walk up the path, hand in hand, and knock on the door. When the woman opens the door—Kate gasps to see how much like her son she looks, both the grown and the child—and cries out at the sight of the little ghost, neither look away. They move inside, the door closing behind them.
Kate and Gibbs sit in silence.
"Do you think he's going to tell them?" Kate finally asks, her heart going out for the man in there facing a family he never had the chance to know.
"No," Gibbs says finally, looking like he's casually napping in the front seat. Kate knows that's a lie; he's got every sense locked on that house and what's happening within.
"Why not?"
"Because. It'd hurt them. This way, he's giving them back the memory of a child they lost… if he tells them who he is, he's just confusing things. Making the grief harder. Making them wonder if their child is really gone."
Kate swallows, frustration hurting her throat. "But he'll have his family back," she murmurs, tears stinging her eyes. God, she has to go home… before she fades, before this ends, she has to go home… "He'll have the chance to get to know them, to be… be their kid."
But Gibbs doesn't answer and, when Tony finally emerges and crosses the lawn, blank-faced, he does so alone. They're quiet as he slides into the passenger seat and, without opening the file, gives it to Gibbs.
"Need to talk?" Gibbs asks, sliding the file down next to him. There's something unspoken between them. A man comes out onto the porch, grey-haired and watching them thoughtfully. Tony doesn't look at him. "You know you're walking away from the only family you got left."
"No, I'm not," Tony says firmly. "I'm driving away with the only family I want. Let them grieve their son. I'm not him." And he looks at Gibbs, a tired smile crossing his face. "And I don't want to be. You guys know who I am. I don't need to fight for that anymore."
Gibbs isn't looking at him or her, so Kate can't see his face, but she can hear the pride in his voice. "Atta 'boy, Tony," he says as they drive away and leave Manassas behind.
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Tony's still apartment hunting and she's, well, technically unable to sign a lease, so they're both crashing at Gibbs's house in the interim. It's a creepy place in the middle of the night without Gibbs there in the week that he's away looking for Art's family, which is probably why Kate's so on edge the night that the Huntsman arrives.
She knows instantly, sitting bolt upright in the guest bedroom she's been given—Tony in the master bedroom since Gibbs wouldn't give up his couch—and feeling that something is wrong. Horrified, sure that maybe they've finally come back for her, she stares at the door and waits for the ghostly hunter to walk in. But no one comes, and the feeling doesn't fade.
It takes her a second to realise: Tony.
She goes from in the bed to beside him in seconds, teleporting next to him with a rush of fear that's sharp enough that she's worried everyone else has felt it too. They have an annoying tendency to pick up on her feelings now, something she's not sure she's glad for.
Tony's in Gibbs's basement, unconcerned by the Huntsman standing by the door looking down at him. He just keeps sipping from his glass of bourbon, barely even sparing Kate a glance.
The Huntsman speaks: "You requested an audience."
Kate's heart stops for a beat, but Tony answers blandly: "Echo told me to. We did everything required of us—she told me to remind you that we are not puppets. We don't dance to your bugle or whatever that horn thing is. We assisted you to return to this world, and we have requests."
"You are in no position to demand anything of us."
"Aren't we?" Tony cocks his head at the Huntsman, entirely unafraid of them. "Seriously? We just stopped the goddamn deadocalypse. You think we can't figure out how to send you back unless you play nice? The world is different now, creepy. There are more of us and, unlike the last time you were around, we're united now." He stands, approaching the Huntsman unafraid. Kate wants to tell him to be careful, but she's too wired to speak. "I'm a vampire who stands alongside a werewolf. My best friends are a golem, a cheetah-therian, and a human-turned-something-spooky. I took an oath to defend the citizens of this country, all of them. I will uphold that oath. The last time you and your buddies galloped around this world, my kind were still the things that went bump in the night—now? Now we're a part of the day too. And, if you don't negotiate our terms, we'll turn everyone in this world against you. Good luck fighting the entirety of United America."
The Huntsman stares, silent and thoughtful. Kate's pretty sure he's going to just vanish, or kill them both and then vanish. There's simply no way that—
"What are your terms?"
Her mouth drops open. Jesus fuck.
Tony did it.
"Me? Only two." Tony leans back against the desk, looking tired suddenly. "One, you need to meet with our leaders and negotiate just who exactly you're gonna reap. That's not mine, by the way—I got told to pass that on to you if you turned up, Director Vance's orders. Otherwise, they'll consider you a threat and act accordingly."
"Very well. And your other?"
Tony breathes slowly, clearly bracing for this: "The bitten vampires," he says finally, Kate bracing as well. Oh god. What is he going to do?
"We did not take them. They contain souls."
"Yeah, they do… but some of them don't want them. Some of them want out. I want you to give them a choice to stay or… go."
"You would have us… ask? Ask the bitten ones if they would prefer life or death? Is this a kindness?" The Huntsman, despite his emotionless tone, seems almost surprised.
"Yeah, I would. Every one of them. And then, when you're done, I want you to add this to your list—any new bitten vampire, any one that's turned? Take them before they wake. End the line now. No more forced souls, got it?"
The Huntsman nods slowly. "Yes. They will not be given the chance to wake. A mercy, perhaps."
"Perhaps," Tony murmurs, not meeting Kate's gaze.
But the Huntsman doesn't leave. He just keeps watching Tony. Finally, he speaks. "What is your choice?"
"What?" Tony sounds startled like he'd braced to say this and this alone, thrown now that they're off-script.
"Will you stay or go? I am to give you this choice, I understand. You are bitten. I can take you now."
Tony just laughs, draining his glass and putting it down. "Naw," he says, restarting Kate's heart as she breathes again. "I'm staying. Gibbs would spend eternity kicking my ass if I left him now."
"Damn right," Kate murmurs. She regrets this moments later, as the Huntsman now looks at her. "Oh god, what?"
"And you," he says blandly. "You helped us too. I can give you a reward for that."
Oh.
Well, that's easy.
"I want to stay," she says firmly. "No fading out, no going back to the foggy paths. Until I'm done here, I want to stay—can you give me that?"
And the Huntsman nods and says, "Yes."
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They're climbing the stairs out of the basement after, still reeling from the leftover shock of the Huntsman's visit. Despite him being gone, the room still feels cold. She'll be glad to climb back into bed after that. And then… well, she knows she's staying now. Tomorrow, she'll call her family and… and go home. Finally.
She can't help but grin at that.
"Kate?" Tony asks, pausing as she walks out into the kitchen and turns back to look at him leaning on the doorway. "Why'd you stay?"
"I don't know," she answers. "Why did you?"
He grins. "Dunno. Figured I had stuff left to do."
"Damn right you do," comes the gruff voice from the darkness, Gibbs appearing like a wraith and scowling at them both. "Don't remember giving permission to host the undead in my house, DiNozzo."
"Well, you let Kate in, so—"
The sound of hand slapping head is probably the greatest thing Kate's heard since dying.
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They're given the Award for Heroism. All of them.
Tony and Tim are both the first of their kind to receive the honour. Their families are there to watch, all of them. Kate's the first of her kind too, but really that's because she's the only of her kind. No one else, not even the dozen or so remaining spirits in the world, are anything like she is.
Her family is there to see it too. Roy cries, the sap. Her nieces and nephews barely restrain themselves from cheering.
This. This is what she came back to life for. Seeing her families' smiles, and seeing Tony's awed expression as they pin the medal to his shirt, seeing Tim blink back stunned tears, seeing Gibbs stare proudly at them with his own head high. Being here with them.
All of them.
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Two days later, Ziva rocks up in the middle of the night looking as frazzled as they've ever seen her. Kate and Tony are bickering over Gibbs's shitty TV set, both turning to see Ziva dashing in the front door and shouting for Tony.
"My house, David," Gibbs says grumpily. "Come right in."
But Ziva ignores him. "I need your help," she says, striding towards Tony with her eyes wild and limp bad enough that Kate's sure she's been overdoing the 'gentle walking' her physio had suggested she indulge in.
"Alright, but you know, it'll cost you," Tony says, leaning back and grinning with delight at having Ziva David over a barrel. Kate rolls her eyes at his cocky grin. He should know better than to think he's got Ziva—
"I need you to raise a child with me." Ziva doesn't blink as she says this. Kate looks from her face to Tony's, just as stunned as he looks but distant enough from the question that she can just straight up enjoy how flustered he is right now.
"Ha ha," Tony laughs nervously. "Ha ha?"
"Why are you laughing? There is not time for laughing—yes or no!?" Ziva's lip curls a bit as she says this, a wild-eyed panic in her expression that's more cheetah than person. Gibbs sips his beer, face devoid of expression but eyebrows ever so slightly lifted.
"Ah," says Tony.
"Tony, please." Ziva steps forward, pleading. Panic has given way to desperation. "They are going to take her away, to a foster home, today. I tried to take her but they will not give a vampire child to a non-vampire, and her family refused her. They say she is a demon now, unholy. Monstrous. She is a child, and she needs someone."
There's silence after that. Gibbs slides his beer onto a nearby table, stepping forward and touching Ziva's arm gently. She turns into that touch, Kate's sure only to hide that she's trembling and near tears.
"She needs someone, and I need her," Ziva finishes. "It is… stupid, weak. Human. I know. But… she knows me, and she has lost enough people she knows."
"Stop." Tony's voice is sharp. Kate winces. Here they go… this is going to be rough. It's not— "Alright. Jeez, alright. Ah, we don't have to like, fake date, do we? Because, well, I'm not sure I'm—"
"I'll vouch for you both," Gibbs answers, grabbing his keys from the hook. "Come on. Let's go get her."
"You confuse me," Kate tells Tony on the way out of the door.
"Why?" he asks her, grinning crookedly. "Our family is already weird as hell. What's one more lost soul? Shit, Gibbs kept you. You're probably the oddest of us all, Miss Won't Stay Dead."
He's not wrong, not really.
It's still weird.
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There's a vampire as Air Force One, and Kate is pretty sure that this is the worst parody of her former job ever. It's barbeque weekend at Gibbs's to celebrate Tali's ninth birthday—two years after they pretty much saved the world—and they're telling the same story they tell every single time. It's the 'time we saved Kate's ass' story, and Kate is pretty sure they're by now making most of it up.
Tali's almost too big to fit but Tony's still got her up on his shoulders, sprinting around the backyard going "nrrrrooom" as he plays the part of Air Force One, arms outstretched. Abby is being both Kate and Ducky, alternatively, her accent for both atrocious. Gibbs is being Gibbs, despite not being involved, standing by the grill and occasionally saying, "I didn't say that," when Tony ad-libs a line for him.
"Your family is ridiculous," Kate tells Ziva quietly when the woman reappears with a beer in hand. "Tony's the worst aeroplane ever."
But Tali is laughing hysterically, they're all alive, and Kate is here to see it.
"He is, how is it said?" Ziva says, opening her beer and smiling over the lip of it. "An 'acquired taste'. And there are worse tastes to acquire. Hello, McGee."
McGee has arrived, wandering in through the gate and lighting up when he sees the aeroplane running around. "Sweet, are we doing Air Force One again?" he asks. "Can we do when you guys met me next?"
"Sure, McGeek, if you want to bore the kid to tears. There's nothing interesting about you." Tony pokes his tongue out as he says this.
"That's not true," Tali objects. "You're super interesting, Uncle Tim, promise. Probably even more interesting than Uncle Gibbs, and definitely more interesting than Daddy. But not Ima'le, sorry." She doesn't really sound sorry at all, grinning down at him with a look that's one-hundred percent Tony DiNozzo.
Tony looks at her, then looks at Ziva. "Adoption is still an option, right?"
"Sure," Kate answers. "But I doubt anyone will adopt you. They tend to like them younger and prettier."
His pout is almost worth her being forced into playing the corpse next. Almost. But, corpse or not, she wouldn't have traded this for the world. It's her second life, and she absolutely plans to live it all the way through.
Together.