+++++
Gibbs was down in the basement when he heard her scream. He had lain with her until she had fallen asleep and waited until he was sure she wasn't going to wake up when he left. But now she was awake, and she was screaming. He threw his block sander down on the bench and sprinted up the stairs. When he got to the guest bedroom he found Kate tossing and turning on the bed. She was no longer screaming, but she was murmuring incoherently. It was obvious she was having a nightmare.
He went to her and sat gently down on the bed. He brushed the hair off her face and put his hands on her shoulders to still her movement.
"Kate. Kate, wake up." Gibbs whispered. When she didn't wake up he shook her shoulders gently and spoke louder, "C'mon, Kate, open your eyes.
Her movements stilled and Gibbs brushed her hair away from her face again. "Kate, open your eyes. It's just a dream, come back now."
Hey fluttered open and all she saw was his face. His eyes were filled with concern and something else she couldn't quite place. But she wasn't worried about that at the moment. She had just seen him killed by the man who wanted to kill her. She knew it was a dream now, but it had seemed and felt so real. The heart-wrenching pain she'd felt when she saw Gibbs fall to the ground was unbelievable and she could still feel it. So what she did next was understandable and excusable. She sat up and threw herself into his arms. She needed to feel him, needed to feel his heartbeat. She needed to prove to herself that he was alive and here with her now.
Gibbs wasn't ready for her. He hadn't prepared his senses to be assaulted by her scent. He hadn't prepared his heart for the way she would look at him; like she was overwhelmed with emotion that he was with her. He hadn't prepared himself for the reaction he would feel when she held him. But that did not stop him from putting his arms around her and holding her tight.
Kate buried her head in his chest and laid her ear over his heart. It was strong and solid; he was alive, he was okay. It was like a broken record, playing over and over on her head. She held him tight and he held her tighter.
"Do you want to talk about it? Sometimes that helps." He said quietly after she'd been quiet for a while. He felt her shake her head against his chest and thought he heard her say 'just hold me.' So he held her, knowing that when she wanted to talk she would talk.
Kate knew Gibbs was concerned, and that touched her, but she couldn't tell him about her dream. She wasn't sure she could get through the story without breaking down and she wouldn't let herself do that again. She knew talking about it would make the pain come back and she couldn't go through that again so soon. So she held him and let him hold her.
+++++
About an hour later Kate sat on the couch in the basement watching Gibbs work on his boat. She had a turkey sandwich on her lap that he had made for her, but she didn't feel like eating. When she'd finally gotten herself under control and released him he had suggested that it might be a good idea if she ate something and relaxed in the living room. She agreed, knowing that sleep was out of the question. But when he had said he was going to be down in the basement she'd asked if she could go down with him. She'd told him that she wanted to learn about boats, but she just used that as an excuse to be near him. If she was going to be honest with herself she wasn't ready to let him out of her sight. She knew it was foolish, but she needed to.
Gibbs could feel her eyes on him as he worked. He didn't mind that she was down with him, but it was the first time anybody had watched him. He saw right through her excuse to be downstairs, he knew that she didn't want to learn about boats but he wasn't complaining. He enjoyed her company, even if she wasn't talking. He knew that her dream had shaken her up a lot and guessed that it involved him in a big way, but he didn't know how. If he had to guess by the way she reacted, he would guess that he had been killed and she could nothing to stop it. It was a typical nightmare for this kind of situation, but that didn't mean he wasn't concerned.
He'd had dreams similar to that when he first left the marines. He was young and traumatized by what he'd witnessed. But he'd learned to channel it into his work and, eventually, into building a boat. It had affected his marriages and his relationships with other people. He was known for his unwillingness to open up to people. He now knew it was a mistake to ever think about marriage; he was hardly ever home and when he was he never gave his wife his full attention. All of his wives badgered him about his work and his tendency to stay late at the office, but that didn't stop him. He had grown to dislike them, which inevitably led to no longer loving them. He blamed himself for the failure of his marriages and he understood why they'd left him.
In his life there was only a handful of people who didn't try to pry into his past. Ducky, Abby, his sister, and Kate. He'd known Ducky for three years before he finally told him about his failure and vulnerabilities. His sister had been there for him all three times he'd had to go through a divorce, but she had never questioned why. And Abby knew very little, and was learning more by the day. There was something about her that made you talk, he couldn't help it. He'd never told anyone about his past who he hadn't known for less than a year. But he wanted tell Kate, he felt like he had to. He wanted to tell her about the marines and why he hadn't reenlisted. He wanted to tell her about his family and why it didn't work with his ex-wives. He wanted to tell why his marriages never worked and why he was afraid of loving her.
But he couldn't, not yet.
Gibbs was down in the basement when he heard her scream. He had lain with her until she had fallen asleep and waited until he was sure she wasn't going to wake up when he left. But now she was awake, and she was screaming. He threw his block sander down on the bench and sprinted up the stairs. When he got to the guest bedroom he found Kate tossing and turning on the bed. She was no longer screaming, but she was murmuring incoherently. It was obvious she was having a nightmare.
He went to her and sat gently down on the bed. He brushed the hair off her face and put his hands on her shoulders to still her movement.
"Kate. Kate, wake up." Gibbs whispered. When she didn't wake up he shook her shoulders gently and spoke louder, "C'mon, Kate, open your eyes.
Her movements stilled and Gibbs brushed her hair away from her face again. "Kate, open your eyes. It's just a dream, come back now."
Hey fluttered open and all she saw was his face. His eyes were filled with concern and something else she couldn't quite place. But she wasn't worried about that at the moment. She had just seen him killed by the man who wanted to kill her. She knew it was a dream now, but it had seemed and felt so real. The heart-wrenching pain she'd felt when she saw Gibbs fall to the ground was unbelievable and she could still feel it. So what she did next was understandable and excusable. She sat up and threw herself into his arms. She needed to feel him, needed to feel his heartbeat. She needed to prove to herself that he was alive and here with her now.
Gibbs wasn't ready for her. He hadn't prepared his senses to be assaulted by her scent. He hadn't prepared his heart for the way she would look at him; like she was overwhelmed with emotion that he was with her. He hadn't prepared himself for the reaction he would feel when she held him. But that did not stop him from putting his arms around her and holding her tight.
Kate buried her head in his chest and laid her ear over his heart. It was strong and solid; he was alive, he was okay. It was like a broken record, playing over and over on her head. She held him tight and he held her tighter.
"Do you want to talk about it? Sometimes that helps." He said quietly after she'd been quiet for a while. He felt her shake her head against his chest and thought he heard her say 'just hold me.' So he held her, knowing that when she wanted to talk she would talk.
Kate knew Gibbs was concerned, and that touched her, but she couldn't tell him about her dream. She wasn't sure she could get through the story without breaking down and she wouldn't let herself do that again. She knew talking about it would make the pain come back and she couldn't go through that again so soon. So she held him and let him hold her.
+++++
About an hour later Kate sat on the couch in the basement watching Gibbs work on his boat. She had a turkey sandwich on her lap that he had made for her, but she didn't feel like eating. When she'd finally gotten herself under control and released him he had suggested that it might be a good idea if she ate something and relaxed in the living room. She agreed, knowing that sleep was out of the question. But when he had said he was going to be down in the basement she'd asked if she could go down with him. She'd told him that she wanted to learn about boats, but she just used that as an excuse to be near him. If she was going to be honest with herself she wasn't ready to let him out of her sight. She knew it was foolish, but she needed to.
Gibbs could feel her eyes on him as he worked. He didn't mind that she was down with him, but it was the first time anybody had watched him. He saw right through her excuse to be downstairs, he knew that she didn't want to learn about boats but he wasn't complaining. He enjoyed her company, even if she wasn't talking. He knew that her dream had shaken her up a lot and guessed that it involved him in a big way, but he didn't know how. If he had to guess by the way she reacted, he would guess that he had been killed and she could nothing to stop it. It was a typical nightmare for this kind of situation, but that didn't mean he wasn't concerned.
He'd had dreams similar to that when he first left the marines. He was young and traumatized by what he'd witnessed. But he'd learned to channel it into his work and, eventually, into building a boat. It had affected his marriages and his relationships with other people. He was known for his unwillingness to open up to people. He now knew it was a mistake to ever think about marriage; he was hardly ever home and when he was he never gave his wife his full attention. All of his wives badgered him about his work and his tendency to stay late at the office, but that didn't stop him. He had grown to dislike them, which inevitably led to no longer loving them. He blamed himself for the failure of his marriages and he understood why they'd left him.
In his life there was only a handful of people who didn't try to pry into his past. Ducky, Abby, his sister, and Kate. He'd known Ducky for three years before he finally told him about his failure and vulnerabilities. His sister had been there for him all three times he'd had to go through a divorce, but she had never questioned why. And Abby knew very little, and was learning more by the day. There was something about her that made you talk, he couldn't help it. He'd never told anyone about his past who he hadn't known for less than a year. But he wanted tell Kate, he felt like he had to. He wanted to tell her about the marines and why he hadn't reenlisted. He wanted to tell her about his family and why it didn't work with his ex-wives. He wanted to tell why his marriages never worked and why he was afraid of loving her.
But he couldn't, not yet.