Title: Cabin Fever
Author: MindyH
Chapter: 10 Promise
See part one for disclaimer and spoilers etc.
A/N: Thanks to those who have taken the trouble to find and read and comment on the longer version of this story. I'm very glad you like. For anyone who doesn't know...the full (adult) version of this story is already up at the NCIS Fanfiction Archive. Thanks also to those reading this version step by step and for reviewing! M.
I must've fallen asleep in the car on the way back. We visited Ellie at her farmhouse yesterday and she was kind enough to lend us two of her more docile mares. Neither Gibbs nor I had ridden in quite some time, but we managed not to break any bones as we plodded along on Mona and Shiva across the vast, wild landscape which virtually glittered with beauty under the bright, warm sun. We took our time, exploring and admiring nature's supreme handiwork and chatting quietly. It was possibly one of the most peaceful and romantic afternoons I've ever spent.
Guided by Gibbs' innate sense of direction and gaining some confidence on our rides we cantered back to the house where Ellie had tea waiting for us. She talked a little of Gibbs' father and even showed me some photos she'd dug out of Jethro growing up. Apparently she had been very fond of Gibbs senior and had known his son since he was a little boy.
Despite an age difference of barely eighteen years, she seemed to have taken on the role of a surrogate aunt to him. She showed me a snapshot of Jethro with Jessica, his childhood crush and whispered to me that she'd never seen the man so happy in his life.
"I can tell you're good for him," she'd added conspiratorially and I felt so touched, like I'd been given a blessing from the closest thing to family Gibbs has left.
She'd nearly cried when she'd hugged him goodbye, holding on tight and closing her eyes. She'd ordered him good-humoredly to look after me and me to look after him, as she embraced me as well and walked us to our car.
Last thing I recall is being curled up in the seat next to Gibbs, watching his face, splashed with the dim lights from the dashboard as he drove carefully over the rocky roads, through the pitch black night. He must've carried me inside and put me to bed because I wake in the cabin, in our bed, with him staring down at me worriedly.
"What's the matter?" I ask croakily in response to his creased brow and searching eyes. He sits on the edge of the bed, still in the t-shirt and boxers he sleeps in, coffee cup in hand and face only partially visible to me in the first light of day which creeps in the window.
"You called out for me," he says quietly: "I think you had a nightmare."
He puts out a hand and strokes my hair and I get a sudden flash of him doing the same thing as I lie on the ground somewhere, struggling for breath. I blink up at him in confusion.
"You okay?" he asks gently, continuing to stroke my hair.
I'm speechless for a moment. I did have a nightmare, I now remember, but I can't seem to recollect it all, just some isolated emotions and brief impressions. We were on a case, I think, but not one from our past. Maybe, one of my own imagining. There was a shadowy villain with, strangely enough, another Kate. He was trying to separate us, trying to hurt Gibbs, through me.
He was in danger, I was sure of it. And I had a weapon, but it was useless.
"I thought you were going to die…" I murmur distantly, trying to connect the pieces of the plot: "I thought…" My voice trails off as I focus fixedly on the weave of the sheet. I thought I was going to die, I realize, and leave him all alone.
Gibbs' thumb smoothes over my forehead, erasing the worry lines. He draws my eyes up to his and tells me calmly: "It was just a dream."
I look into his eyes and remember the feeling of my heart freezing over when I thought we would be separated from each other permanently. At this moment, I don't believe his comforting reassurance. Part of me is still back in that other world, possessed with that enormous sense of fear and loss. I sit up and put my arms around his neck, holding onto him securely, still disturbed by some prophecy I cannot even properly identify.
Gibbs hugs me gently: "You had a nightmare," he whispers softly, rubbing and warming my chilled skin: "That's all, it was just a dream."
I start to come back to myself and the real world with the touch of him and the reality of his words. So many things are swirling around my head, in two split-realities. So many thoughts, so many feelings, so many things I both want to remember and don't. There is something I desperately want to say, to assure him of, but I don't know what it is.
"I'll never leave you," I tell him finally, not sure why those were the words I chose, but I repeat them, resolutely with my eyes sealed shut: "I'll never leave you," I whisper into his shoulder.
Gibbs buries his face in my neck and holds onto me tight. Suddenly I feel like I'm the one comforting him. I know he needs to hear those words, and from his grip I can sense just how much.
The words repeat over and over in my brain like a self-affirming chant, as an intense feeling of gratitude rises in my breast. We are safe. Both of us. And that surreal vision can never catch us now.
"Promise me something?" I ask him, gravely as I pull back and look at him. My eyes scan his face, every beloved feature and pierce his eyes, to let him know how important this is to me.
"What?" he replies, watching me closely.
"I never want to stand on a rooftop with you. Ever," I utter, faltering but adamant, and he creases his brow at me in puzzlement.
I hold his eyes determinedly. I'll stand beside him anywhere else – but not there. I'm aware that it sounds like a ridiculous request, but he must understand that it has to do with my bete noir. Maybe he agrees just to comfort me but I watch him nod silently in agreement.
"I mean it, Gibbs," I tell him, unwaveringly, feeling tears threaten my eyes: "If we ever find ourselves on one….we're out of there as fast as possible."
"Oka-ay," he nods slowly and drops his gaze, picking up my hand.
"Promise--" I urge, persistently, gripping his hand to seal the bargain.
He weighs my hand in his for a moment, eyes downcast then tips his head to one side in assent. "I don't believe in tempting fate, Kate," he says quietly, by way of an answer, then he looks up again to meet my eyes.
Gibbs is more acquainted with the laws of the universe than many would imagine. Karma, coincidences, hunches, foresight, he doesn't dismiss them as a rule and in this possibly meaningless vision, he may recognize, as I do, the justice of something working in our favor, some benevolent, protective force warning us. The panicky feeling is already fading but I'll never entirely forget it and refuse to disregard it as simply a temporary madness. I can feel it's validity in my gut.
I squeeze his hand and hold his eyes until he gives me the pledge I require: "Promise, Gibbs," I insist quietly.
I intend to hold him to it, no matter what. Now that I have made my commitment to this man, I will not break it. Our work requires that we put our lives on the line everyday, we both understand that. But we both also realize, I think, that we have far more to loose now than ever before.
Whether we can continue to work together will have to be decided pretty soon, but I know that, either way, whenever he is in the field, I will always worry for him, until he is back in my sight. So if there happens to be any desolate concrete rooftops in our future, I will make damn sure that we find another way, even if I have to remind him of this vow.
His other hand reaches out and touches my cheek, as he studies my face thoughtfully for a moment. Finally, he nods and says softly to my utmost relief:
"I promise."