"JETHRO!" Someone wails in their sleep in the middle of the night on a cold January night.
Bolting up in her bed, gripping the sweat soaked sheets in her hands, the Director of NCIS, Jennifer 'Jenny, Jen' looks around for him but soon remembers that he's not here to reassure or comfort her that the nightmare was just that: a nightmare. He hasn't comforted her after a nightmare in six years, not since she left him in their Paris hotel room asleep. She lets out a sigh as she grabs her cell phone to call him but remembers that she doesn't get to call him in the middle of the night and ask him for comfort. She lets her mind take her back to the night she had a nightmare in Paris and he was there to comfort and hold her until the tears had stopped just as the sun was rising in the sky, telling them that despite their awful night, the day ahead of them was going to be a good one.
Flashback, Paris, 1999
She's wrapped up in his arms once again, and like every night, it's his heart thumping in her ear that sends her to sleep but it's not long before she's reliving her worst nightmare again.
She was watching as he fired the gun at their suspect. She knew he had a perfect aim and she knew that he knew where to hit so the suspect wouldn't end up dead; he'd just be injured.
She heard the gun go off and felt her heart rip open when she saw the suspect, who was smirking at them, shoot Jethro with another gun he had stashed away before running out of the warehouse. Jethro falls to the floor with a pained grunt. She wrestles with herself, torn between going after the bastard who shot Jethro or staying with him until the rest of the team arrives.
Screw it. She thought before running to Jethro. She went down on her knees and pulled his head onto her lap, swiping away his silvery hair from his blue eyes that she loves so much. One of her hands grabs his in an iron grip. She holds back a sob when she sees the pool of blood growing on his black shirt, she knows he didn't put his Kalver vest on after wrestling her into hers.
"Jethro, you're an idiot." She scolds the love of her life, the hand that's not in his, combs through his silver hair to calm him down slightly, his icy blue eyes diminishing with each second that goes by.
"Jethro, keep your eyes open, talk to me." She tells him, knowing that keeping someone who's been injured talking is the best way to keep their minds off the pain.
"J.. Jen, ju.. just.. wa, wanted.. you.. to.. know.. you're.. love.. of.. my..life." Jethro's voice is raspy and full of pain. She can't stop the tears that run from her green eyes.
"I love you too, Jethro." She says, one of her tears falling onto his cheek and running down his face as if they were his own.
"You'll be fine, Jethro." she says, reassuring them both but they both know what will happen if the rest of the team doesn't get here fast. Already she can see the pool of blood spreading beneath them, coating their clothes in his blood.
"D.. don't l..lie t..to m..me, J..Jen, w..we b..both k..know I w..won't b.. be." Jethro pants, his gruff yet silky voice fading fast. She wouldn't know how to live if he died.
"Stop it, Jethro! You'll be fine." She insists, her tears falling faster. "Jethro, please don't leave me, please." She begs him through her rapidly falling tears.
She kisses his forehead which is slick with sweat but she doesn't care. "Jen, k..kiss m..me on..one..last t..time." Jethro orders her in his choppy voice. She sobs as she bends down and captures his lips in hers in what might be, though hopefully not, their last ever kiss
"I l..love y..you, Jen Sh..Shepard." Jethro says to before his heart stops and his blue eyes close, never to be opened ever again, not even for her. She lets out a scream as she begs him to come back, shaking him roughly before giving up on getting him to wake up and bends her head over his face and sobs, not caring who sees her like this.
She's just lost the love of her life to which was supposed to be a routine pick up of their suspect.
She can still hear his voice in her ear, telling her to wake up, well more like yelling at her to wake up.
Why is he yelling at her to wake up if she's not asleep?
She doesn't ponder the question or listen to his orders: he's dead and not her boss anymore. Or your lover anymore the evil part of her brain reminds her which makes her sob harder.
"Oh, Jethro, I'll always love you." She tells his colding corpse as she feels herself giving into her exhaustion, holding her dead lover in her arms.
"Jen, wake up, you're having a nightmare, it's not real, you're having a nightmare, just wake up." She hears him telling her again, his voice much closer to her than before and much healthier than just a few seconds ago.
She bolts awake, a scream lodged in her throat, a layer of sweat covering her like blood, like his blood. She hears his voice in her ear, telling her it wasn't real and that he's here.
"J.. Jethro?!" She asks, tears pouring down her face as she twists in his arms. She faces him and looks into his blue eyes, her hand lifting to cup his cheek to assure herself he's real.
"I'm here, Jen, I'm here, it was just a nightmare." He says, pulling closer to him. Another wave of tears roll down her cheeks as her mind starts to push the images of Jethro dead on the warehouse floor, covered in his own blood, out of her mind. She buries her face in Jethro's t-shirt clad chest and sobs, her entire body shaking with the force of them. She's aware of her lover stroking her hair soothingly and whispering words of comfort to her but she doesn't acknowledge the comfort he's providing for her.
By the time she's stopped sobbing into Jethro, his t-shirt is wet with her tears and he sun is just starting to rise. They don't say anything as she turns to face the balcony doors to watch the sun rise, they're happy in one another's arms.
"I love you, Jethro." She says quietly, feeling him kiss the top of her head.
"I love you, Jen." Jethro replies, both of them returning back silent.
They don't need many words to communicate with each other, they know being in each other's arms, both their love for the other one speaks for them.
Jen comes out of her memory with tears streaming down her face, remembering how safe she felt in his arms every time she woke up after her nightmares. She sighs, knowing that any hope of sleep tonight is just a figment of her imagination, as elusive as a dream full of laughter between her and Jethro. She gets out of bed and walks to her en-suite, turning on her shower as high as it'll go and strips out of her sweat soaked pyjamas, letting the sigh she's been holding in since she woke up from the nightmare of witnessing his death, yet again.
She doesn't know how much longer she can handle being subjected to watching him die every night, like she has been for the last 6 years. He still has her heart cradled in his hands, she's just waiting for him to return it back to her, but as each day passes by, the hope she feels that he'll return her heart slowly chips away. Stepping out of the shower, Jen wraps a fluffy towel around herself, smiling sadly when she thinks of how he used to wrap a towel around her after their showers together.
Maybe someday, he'll be lying next to her, holding her and comforting after she has another nightmare about his death.
Maybe someday, she'll be wrapped up safe in his arms.
Maybe someday, he'll wrap a towel around her after their shower together.
Maybe someday, he'll walk in her front door carrying her heart back to her.
Maybe someday.