Purgatory

Chapter 3 - Reprieve

After what seemed like hours, EJ's sobs subsided. Through sheer force of will she climbed to her feet and dragged herself into the scalding shower. After dressing she relinquished the bathroom so Tony and Ziva could also prepare for work. Thanking them and acknowledging that she would see them at work in a little while, EJ exited the house and drove her car to a familiar coffee shop.

She and Gibbs would stop at this shop almost every morning as he drove her to work, after which he would embark on his day of mundane tasks or exciting adventures in his new profession as a private investigator. He always ordered the same; a large black coffee and a toasted plain bagel with cream cheese. She had always been a cappuccino fan, but mimicked Gibbs penchant for bagels and cream cheese. Since his death, though, her drink of choice had switched to match his - coffee … regular … black. She still ordered the bagel, but usually found her stomach could tolerate only a few bites and more often than not the bagel went untouched.

As she stood in line at the counter she spied herself in the huge mirror mounted on the back wall behind the baristas' work area. She surveyed her reflection and grimaced. Her bloodshot eyes were dull and lifeless with dark, baggy circles underneath. Her cheeks were slightly hollow, attesting to the weight she had lost when her appetite disappeared. Her shoulders were slumped and she stood leaning against the counter, as if it was the only thing holding her up. She was chagrined to actually see with her own eyes that she looked as exhausted as she felt.

My god! I'm a damned mess! No wonder everyone is freaked out about me. This has got to stop. I've got to pull myself together or I'll lose my job. That can't happen – I can't let that happen. Damn it woman, get a grip! Pull your head out! Do something – anything. Just deal with it!

She watched herself in the mirror as she mentally berated herself. Eventually she took in a deep breath, held it, then let it out slowly. Standing taller she squared her shoulders, a new intention spreading across her, resolved that when she arrived at work she would start doing things differently – if only for today; to begin the slow climb out of her pit of despair.

With a renewed spirit she exited the elevator into the squad room walking over to her desk in the MCRT 2 bullpen. Tony, Ziva and McGee, already at their desks, looked at her tentatively. She smiled at them and nodded, seeing their features relax just a bit at her seemingly bright mood.

As she sat her backpack down she noticed the note on her desk. It was from the director. He wanted to see her in his office when she got in. Her smile disappeared, replaced by a frown of concern as a tight knot of fear formed in the pit of her stomach, bringing with it the nausea she had become so accustomed to over the past several months. She folded the note, tucking it in her pocket as she walked out of the bullpen. Striding past Tony, Ziva and McGee she did not turn to look at them, although she felt their eyes follow her the entire way up the stairs. As she approached the director's outer office her skin grew clammy and cold. She was pretty sure she knew what the director wanted and she struggled to fight off the despair pounding against the walls of her mind, demanding entrance once more.

"EJ," Jerome Craig said, walking over to greet her as she entered his office, "how are you doing?"

"I'm good." she said, her tone guarded. "Thanks for asking."

"Have a seat," he pointed to the chair by his conference table.

EJ knew that Craig's concern was genuine. He was different than the past two directors, Shepard and Vance. He was more like Morrow, the NCIS Director at that time she became an agent. Craig was soft spoken, slow to anger, compassionate and willing to express his thoughts and feelings. Some thought this was a sign of weakness, that Shepard and Vance were tougher and thus, better directors. But in the past six months she had come to know that along with his thoughtful demeanor Craig possessed an unflinching ability to make tough decisions. And, for the most part, his decisions were usually right. She respected the man, which made her that much more uncomfortable with what she anticipated had motivated him to call her to his office.

"EJ," Craig said, meeting her eyes. "I'm worried about your health, both emotionally and physically. You seem to be doing worse, not better, and I'm concerned that it's starting to effect your work."

She said nothing, shifting her eyes to the table in front of her, clasping her hands in her lap.

Craig sighed. "Have you thought any more about taking some time off? I think it might be a good idea."

She kept her head tilted down, but lifted her eyes up to look at him. "I don't," she said, her voice flat but tense.

"Why not," he retorted, meeting her stubbornness head on.

"Because, I'm fine."

"No, EJ, you're not fine," his voice still compassionate, but focused and assertive. "You've lost weight, you can't sleep, you look like hell and you're an emotional wreck. And you have every right to be!"

Her eyes kept his gaze but she remained silent.

"And you have every right to take some time off," Craig continued. "That doesn't make you weak, or a bad agent, or … or whatever you're afraid of. It just means you're human. I know what Gibbs meant to you, but I could never fathom how hard this is for you. I can see how it's effecting you and how much you hurt."

"I'm OK," she blurted out, more defensively than she wished. "I need to work. Work is what keeps me going." She felt tears welling in her eyes. "Please, don't take that away from me." She was pleading now. "I'll work harder at getting better. I'll increase my counseling appointments. I'll …."

Craig cut her off. "It's not about getting better. It's about getting through it."

She swallowed hard, defeat in her eyes. Hunching her shoulders forward she shifted her gaze down to the table preparing to endure the decision she knew was coming. Panic gripped her chest as she struggled for breath while the nausea which had already invaded her stomach welled up into her throat, threatening to overpower her efforts to keep it down. Her work was the last remnant of sanity in her crumbling world and now it, too, was being ripped from her grasp.

Craig sighed. He sat silently, looking at her for a long time. Finally he cleared his throat, "OK, let's try this. I want you to get out of DC for a couple of days, maybe even a week."

She continued to stare at the table, resigned to her fate.

"There's a case out of Bremerton - computer data theft from the Bangor submarine base. I'm sending McGee there for a couple of days to initiate the computer forensics component of the investigation. You're going to go with him. It's an easy gig and this should give you a breather."

She looked up at him, confused. Her emotions churned between shock and disbelief.

"This will get you the hell out of here and away from everything, at least for a couple of days," Craig continued. "The Puget Sound is beautiful this time of year. The trip and the scenery should do you good. And you'll get to reconnect with Chris Bishop – it's his MCRT at Bremerton that's running the case."

Her thoughts whirled, fearful her ears had betrayed her because she had expected suspension at best and dismissal at worst. Had she really just dodged the bullet she feared more than anything? She swallowed hard, nodded her understanding, afraid to say anything, fearful her trembling voice would make Craig change his mind.

"EJ," Craig said, his voice earnest, "I need you to get your arms around this. You need to figure out what you need to do to get through it. I don't want to lose you, you're one of my best agents. But right now you're a liability, not an asset. If you can't turn this around I'll have no choice but to take you off the duty roster."

She gulped hard again and nodded.

"If there is anything you need, no matter what it is, let me know and I'll try to make it happen. Just talk to me. I can't help if you don't talk to me," Craig finished.

"I know," her voice cracked. "Thank you, Director."

"Of course," Craig said.

They stood, Craig nodded, acknowledging her dismissal and she turned and left his office.

Stepping out of the director's office onto the second floor balcony she exhaled, the sound of air loudly pushing out from between pursed lips. She knew how close she had come to losing her job and she knew she would not have the strength to survive if separated from her work and her friends right now. She also realized that Craig was going out on a limb for her, that his decision included his own risk of allowing a compromised agent to remain on duty. She was still stunned at his decision, but the faintest glimmer of hope rose in the back of her thoughts. Hope that others still saw her as a positive and contributing member of the team. Hope that her career was still intact.

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