Prompts: Red, life, love

The insistent beep kept him awake, body aching and tired as he folded himself in the plastic chair. Eyes trained on her, he clenched his fists on the armrests as an alarm went off. The beep was cut short as everything stabilized again. He relaxed fractionally.

He'd refused to leave, watching over her for the night.

The last time they were in a room together it had ended in a fight. She wouldn't be here if he'd just listened to her. The team was more than capable of following up on their own leads. When she'd approached him about her hunch, he'd shrugged it off. He should've sent Torres or McGee with her. Hell, he should've gone with her.

She was too stubborn for her own good.

Gibbs eased forward, calloused fingers seeking out hers. She was cold to the touch, skin pale as she fought for her life. Resting his head on the hospital bed, he prayed for the first time since his mother died.

Ellie was the one to wake him, coffee in one hand and go-bag in the other. She didn't pry too much about his feelings. She was too smart for that, instead offering him both items and taking over watch while he changed.

Ducky had dropped by to get more information out of the attending staff. Relaying what he knew and leaving him to his thoughts.

It was Leon's much anticipated arrival that had him surprisingly squirming in his seat. The ever watchful big brother coming to interrogate him. He'd accepted his third cup of coffee with reluctance, expecting the inevitable.

"How the hell did this happen?"

He couldn't answer, knew his boss had meant it metaphorically. If one person seemed safely tucked away from the dangers of this job, it was Jack Sloane.

"She followed up on a lead." Gibbs sighed, there was no point in not giving an answer.

The air felt thick around him, slowly suffocating him.

"Thank, God, she pulled through."

Four days later, he was still uncomfortably wedged in the plastic chair. Scratching at the slight beard now covering his face, he sighed against the Styrofoam cup, the coffee rippling gently. He watched the rain splatter against the small window, offering a momentary escape.

Dropping the cup with what he considered dish water in the trash, he turned his attention back to the four walls around him.

Running his thumb over her knuckles, he kissed the back of her hand. There was no reaction, and he resigned himself to another day crammed in his chair. He took the warmth of her skin as a good sign. Even if it was due to fact that he hadn't let her go for more than a few minutes.

The twitch of her fingers had him tightening his grip.

"Jack?"

She groaned, cussing softly as she tried moving. Licking her lips, she forced her eyes open, quickly squeezing them shut against the bright lights. She heard him murmur something in her ear, drawing her attention towards him.

Slowly opening her eyes again, she saw him lean in, free hand smoothing the hair off her face.

"What did you say?"

She saw the conflict in his eyes. There was very little she could recall of how she ended up here, but she remembered exactly what had transpired between them. Could see the guilt written all over his face.

The pieces started adding up, the picture becoming more clear.

"Not your fault." Her mouth felt like cotton. "I should've waited for Nick or McGee."

"Me!" His voice was loud, echoing off the walls. He saw her flinch, fingers struggling to be freed from his. He let her go reluctantly. "Me." He whispered quietly.

"Said..." He seemed to dig deep, blue eyes downcast as she reached for his hand again. "Said I l..."

The small dejected smile he gave her indicating he needed to dig deep to find the courage to say it. He needed to tell her, he'd promised her that he'd try and make this relationship work.

The weight of his head resting against her thigh was welcoming. Running her finger through his hair, she finally offered him a smile. "Me too."