Friday was definitely a roller coaster; and not the good kind. The day started off quite calm, just a regular morning, and then things took a turn for the worst.

Waking up that morning, Jethro never expected to find himself sitting at the hospital that evening waiting on news after a nasty car wreck.

Jethro had gotten up, had some cereal and coffee for breakfast with his wife, kissed her goodbye, and headed to work. Nothing out of ordinary.

He had met with the director briefly before the rest of his team got in, something that was quite common, and his team had almost immediately caught a case.

They had been called in when the body of a petty officer was found in the hot tub of a foreclosed house in Norfolk. The man had not only clearly been drowned, but had also been shot and had his abdomen and stomach slit open with something.

What didn't make sense to Jethro was the shooting of a man who was already dead.

It didn't take long before they identified their victim as Petty Officer 1st Class Edward Bick. Aside from his name, they didn't get anything else from the scene. Ducky was unable to give a time of death or cause of death until the body was on a table back in autopsy. It had been one of the nastiest crime scenes that Jethro had seen in a long time, and that was saying something.

Jethro had then had Ziva and DiNozzo speak to Bick's widow, Tara. The woman was upset, but not all that surprised that her husband was dead.

Another man arrived named Jason who served with Bick and was close with both him and Tara. They learned that Bick was working on a special assignment; the man wasn't where the login sheet claimed. Over the past few weeks, the man had become more and more concerned that there was somebody following him.

Visiting Ducky down in autopsy, the longtime medical examiner was still in the middle of performing the one on Bick when Jethro arrived. His longtime friend had been able to deduce that Bick had been violently drowned before being shot.

While Jethro talked to Ducky, Palmer was working on the lung, looking for a suspected allergen that caused irritation in the organ. There was also an impression in the side of Bick's temple and something impacted between his molars; a scrap of a $100 bill.

After talking with them, Jethro made his way across the basement to Abby's lab only to find her stuck under her desk due to a charley horse in her right leg. Once pried free, Abby was able to shed some light on the case while he massaged her leg to help loosen the muscles in her leg up.

"Okay," Abby said, "so the round fragmented into two when it exited the body and it hit the railroad tie. So I was able to process each half separately, and then combine them virtually, and... voilà!"

"What about the gun?" he asked.

"Um... It's a Webley," the dark-haired forensic scientist informed him. "English, a .38. It's rare. They don't even make 'em anymore."

"Nice," he said. "What else?"

"Um," she said, "I tested the water in Petty Officer Bick's lungs. There were high levels of marine fuel and a lubricant used mostly on large Navy vessels and it has oil dispersants in it."

"That salt water or fresh water?" he asked.

"It's both," she explained. "So, the water that Bick drowned in had to be in a place that had salt water and fresh water, or at least condensation."

He eyed her. "Well, that's the hull of a ship."

Abby dipped her head slightly. "There's only 900 ships docked at Norfolk harbour right now, so that'll narrow it down."

"What about the head wound?" he asked.

"Metal shavings," the forensic scientist informed him, "rust and a cleanser that's used exclusively on marine craft." she eyed him. "And the cleanser is not American-made." Well, that's definitely interesting.

"You good?" he inquired, stopping the leg massage.

"Yeah," Abby commented happily. "I'm running the impression spec right now, so if I could match like a valve… or a flange... to a specific ship."

"Yeah," he said with a smile. "Go. Make it happen." Just then his phone rang. Glancing down at the cellphone in his hand, Jethro momentarily froze right on the spot. The call was from the George Washington University Hospital. Why are they calling me? Did something happen to Shannon or to Kelly? If one of them's hurt… Forcing himself to answer the phone, he steadied his voice. "Gibbs."

"Hello, Mr. Gibbs." It was an older lady's voice coming across the line. "I'm calling from the George Washington University Hospital. You were listed as the emergency contact for a patient who's recently been admitted. Kelly Gibbs."

"Yes," he said, a lump quickly forming in his throat. "I'm her father." How badly is she hurt? She has to be okay. If she's not, I... "Is Kelly okay?"

"Mr. Gibbs, your daughter was brought in after a car accident just off of Route 29," the lady explained. "I can't say any more over the phone, but -"

"I'm on my way!" he said, swiftly ending the call and running out of the lab.

Whatever it was that Abby had called out after him, Jethro had completely missed. His mind was reeling and he was trying to get ahold of his wife.

Hanging up the phone after talking to her, he rushed out of the building and past the director who had just got back from a meeting with SecDef.

"Gibbs?" Vance said, clearly surprised to see Jethro running out of the place as though it was on fire, "Where are you going?"

"Kelly!" Jethro stated, not bothering to stop and take the time to explain the situation to the director. "There was an accident." Satisfied with the rather brief explanation, he continued walking unperturbed to his truck. The only thing that mattered to him at the moment was getting to Kelly as quickly as possible.

Jethro's mind was reeling the entire drive to the hospital where his daughter had been admitted and didn't quiet down any once he got there.

Two Metro detectives that Jethro knew through work had been there to explain where they were at with the investigation into what had happened. Jethro had no doubt that they had lost the short straw when the department realized it meant dealing with a very irate Leroy Jethro Gibbs.

It was apparently a hit and run and they were already able to ascertain by talking with several witnesses that Kelly had not been at fault.

A black car had cut Kelly off when she was taking the exit, and now the detectives on the case were looking into not only identifying the driver but attempting to figure out if alcohol or other drugs had been involved.

And that's how Jethro found himself where he was currently with his wife's head laying against his chest as he stared exhaustedly at the TV in the hospital waiting room.

After sliding his phone out of the pocket of his grey blazer, thrown over the back of the hospital chair earlier, Jethro noted he had a few messages from his team.

He even had one from Vance. 'Any news yet?'

Swallowing the lump that had once again lodged itself in his throat, Jethro tapped out a quick response to the other man. 'Nothing yet. She's still in surgery.'

Kelly had some fractures and broken bones but it was the internal injuries, the internal bleeding, that had them the most concerned.

A second later came Vance's reply. 'How's Shannon holding up?'

Jethro sighed and tapped out another message. 'She's worried.' And so am I. Shannon was equally a mess and he had done everything that he could to reassure her, not that there was much he could do for her. That fact just frustrated Jethro even more. Jethro hated feeling helpless. Always had. Always would.

'Let me know if there's anything we can do, Gibbs. And I'll cover your hotline shift for this weekend. Don't come in. Take some time.'

'Will do. Thanks, Leon.' He then shoved his cellphone back into his pocket and despite the fact that he hadn't really prayed in years, Jethro found himself praying harder than he'd prayed in decades - to any deity that would listen to him - for his baby girl to pull through. He didn't think he had it in him to lose her again.