Purgatory

Chapter 24 – Commitment

The early evening of Gibbs' thirteenth day in the hospital lingered while he and EJ finished the food on their trays; standard hospital fare delivered from the mess. Gibbs could see EJ's anxiety reflected in her face while they waited for a scheduled visit from Doctor Ritchie who said he would have news regarding Gibbs' possible release from the hospital.

EJ looked over at Gibbs as he slurped a spoonful of Jello. "Yuck! How can you eat that stuff?"

Gibbs tilted his head down and raised his eyes to glance at her from under thick eyebrows, a mock look of annoyance on his face. "Twenty years as a Marine," he responded. "It's not that bad, Munchkin." He was feeling better, enough to taunt EJ with his pet nickname which he knew she disliked.

She sent him a glare.

Before she could formulate a proper retort Gibbs spoke again, "Even you can't mess up Jello." His teasing smile broadened realizing she was about to take the bait.

"Hey," she protested, "I'm a pretty good cook and you know it. Not Julia Child, but decent for a single girl. You never seem to complain when I'm at your place and take over cooking duties, mister one-trick-pony, steak and potatoes man." She stabbed at a carrot and popped it in her mouth, chewing slowly.

Gibbs snorted, enjoying the banter. "Yeah? Well, I'm not convinced. I think you need more practice."

"Practice?" she said incredulously. "Practice my ass! Jethro, when do I have time to practice cooking, or anything else for that matter. I'm running back and forth between my place and work – then work and your place – then your place and my place – then …," her voice trailed off as she heaved an exasperated sigh. "My damn car is racking-up miles like you can't believe." She looked back down at her tray of food, pushing her fork from one entree to another.

She was right. Their relationship had made her life a logistical nightmare. His new profession as a private investigator provided him complete control over his time. He could come and go as he pleased, decide to work or take the day off, stay up late or sleep in. But no one knew better than he the demands of EJ's job. The long, exhausting hours with too much coffee and fast food and too little sleep. Between the two of them, living apart was brutal on her, in more ways than one.

It was time for that to change. He had made that choice as he dwelled over their relationship during his recuperation the past two weeks. But this galvanized his decision regarding the timing of that change – that time was now.

Over the past week, ever since the haze of his pain medication had lifted and he could think clearly again, his thoughts kept returning to EJ and him together; to how things were now – and how he wanted them to be. During those times when he had awoken to find EJ sleeping on the cot next to him, or dozed off in the chair with her head leaning against his mattress, he had immersed himself into the quiet of the room, reevaluating their relationship – where it had come from and where it might be going. Often he had flashed back to the moment Rathburn convinced him she was dead. Every time his mind played that scene the grief and pain and hopelessness had welled up inside as he laid there, glaring at the tubes and wires connected to him. More than once he had choked down a gasp which had woken EJ and he quickly had to hide his emotion before she became fully alert.

Six months ago, when he decided to risk his heart to be with EJ again, he had committed to change. But if he was honest with himself he was still dragging his feet when it came to taking the next step in their relationship. That hesitation couldn't continue. He had already lost her twice during his life. The first time, a decade ago, when he let his fear overrule his heart and he ended their relationship. The second time, when Rathburn convinced him she was dead. He couldn't delay any longer. It was time to put his fear and insecurity behind him. It was time to move forward. He only hoped she felt the same. He turned in the bed to face her, solidifying his resolve. It was now or never.

"Yeah, about your car," he said. "In my mind there's two solutions to that problem."

"Emm …?" EJ mumbled in response. Her attention had returned to examining her food. She paused, then made a seemingly difficult decision, scooping her fork into a pile of mashed potatoes.

Gibbs continued. "Option one - get a new car …," he paused, smirking at her lack of attention, and then delivered the punch-line, "or, option two - get a new place to live."

She froze, a fork full of mashed potatoes halfway between the tray and her mouth - which had dropped open - her eyes wide, staring back at him.

"Excuse me?" she croaked.

"You're excused," he said, his smirk widening.

EJ put her fork down and moved the tray from her lap to the floor. She turned her chair to face Gibbs, fixing a hard gaze on him as he sat back in his bed.

"What's this about?" she countered, cautiously.

At her question Gibbs let out a loud laugh. "Do you remember when we first met?"

"Uh ha," she acknowledged slowly, her eyes squinting in suspicion.

"You were young and pretty cocky."

"Like you weren't?" she huffed, and then sarcastically corrected her statement, "... cocky, I mean, 'cause you sure weren't young!"

"Ouch," he said with mock indignation. "Anyway," he continued, "remember the cup of coffee you brought me?"

"Yeah? Still not following you, Jethro," she said, her voice growing impatient.

"I asked you what the cup of coffee was about and you said …"

She jumped in, "I said, 'you need to brush up on your investigation skills'. Come on, Jethro! The coffee was kinda obvious. Anyway, what's your point?"

"My point is - looks like now it's you who needs to brush up on her investigation skills. Figure it out, Erica."

He smiled at her silently, watching as awareness began to slowly register on EJ's face. She broke out into a broad grin, but just as quickly it was replaced by a frown, her eyes narrowing again.

"Gibbs," she said, her voice low and menacing, her eyes boring holes into his, "you better not screw with me on this. You screw with me and I will beat your butt so bad!"

He knew her use of his last name meant she was deadly serious. But he couldn't help drawing out his teasing a little longer. "Promise?" he quipped back.

She stood up from the chair and leaned against the bed, still frowning, her arms folded across her chest. "You're not serious about the car, right?"

"That's up to you," he said.

"I don't want a new car," she responded, her gaze still locked with his.

"Looks like its option two, then," he shot back.

"Yeah," she said snidely, "option two. Know of any good places?"

"As a matter of fact, I do," he smirked back at her.

There was a long pause as he watched her expression turn solemn. "Are you sure?" she asked, her voice tentative.

He could hear the hint of fear in her voice. Fear that perhaps his injuries were clouding his thinking and after things cleared up he might change his mind. But, yes! He was sure. He had no doubts. And he had to erase any doubts in her mind as well. He had to make her understand he truly did want more with her, much more. Wanted her closer. Wanted to protect her. Wanted their lives to become one. His chest tightened as he drew a breath, then reached out and took her hands in his and squeezed.

"More sure of this than anything else in my life," he whispered.

EJ looked at him, wetness pooling in her eyes. But her expression remained unchanged, intense and serious.

"Jethro, I'm not sure …," she paused, her lower lip trembling, then started again. "I love you more than I can say. You know that, right?"

He nodded, his eyes still on hers, nervous doubt creeping into his thoughts.

She swallowed hard. "But I'm not sure I can do this half-way. I don't think it's in me. I want ...," she paused, pulled her hands from his, wiped her eyes, rubbed them dry on her jeans, squared herself in front of him and then grasped his hands again, hard, like she would never let go.

Inhaling sharply she continued. "I need all of you. I don't want just part of something. I want all of us. A whole us."

Tears had started trickling down her cheeks. She shook her head and looked off to the side, "Goddammit! I've been a blubbering mess for three months and it's all your fault. I'm sick and tired of it."

She cleared her throat and turned back to Gibbs, still holding his hands, her face, determined. "You'd better be ready to put-up or shut-up, Marine! You got that?!"

He tilted his head to the side, recognizing the seriousness behind her quip. "Careful what you wish for," his voice was almost inaudible as he pulled his hand from hers, reached into the pocket of his robe and pulled out a small, dark blue velvet box.

EJ's eyes dropped to the box in his hand. Her mouth moved but speech didn't come. He felt her her hand trembling in his.

"Erica, I've done this a few times before, for different reasons. But only two times for love – the first time and the last time. This is the last time."

Releasing her hand he pulled the lid back, revealing a delicate golden, diamond solitaire ring, then whispered softly, "Marry me, Erica Jane Barrett."

She stood, frozen, speechless. Looking up, her eyes met his, her face a swirl of emotions; surprise, disbelief, relief, joy, love. And even though she hadn't responded to his question, from her face he knew the answer and he heaved a sigh of relief.

"Dammit, Jethro," she said, as her tears flowed freely, "if we're gonna do this then you need to stop making me cry at the drop of a hat!"

"I suppose that's a 'yes'," he said.

"Damn right, it's a 'yes'!" she shot back.

EJ lunged forward and flung her arms around his neck, pulling him to her as her lips crashed upon his, the kiss deep and passionate. He met her lips eagerly, his hands pulling at her shoulders, trying to bring her closer. Frustrated that her position standing by the bed leaning over him wasn't close enough, Gibbs reached down and grabbed her jeans and belt, weakly trying to hoist her up onto his bed. She grabbed the mattress and pulled herself up, sinking into him, erasing any distance remaining between them. Turning toward him she curling her small frame into his side as she fisted his robe and pushed her head into his chest, trying to catch her breath. His arm circled around her, his hand slowly rubbing up and down her back.

They laid there, EJ wrapped in Gibbs' embrace as he left soft kisses on the top of her head, his hand continuing to stroke her back and arm. She picked up the blue box from his lap and stared at the ring, wiping her cheeks with her other hand.

"I supposed it was about time," Gibbs said as he nuzzled her cheek.

"Ya think?!" she snorted, then added, "You did good, Marine."

"Oorah!" he said with a soft chuckle.

"Ah," came Flynn's voice from the doorway, an insufferable grin on his face. "I see the deed's been done. Good on ya, Sergeant Gibbs." He walked over to where Gibbs and EJ lay cuddled on the bed.

EJ looked up at Flynn, then shot Gibbs a puzzled look, then returned her gaze to Flynn. "You knew about this?" she asked, somewhat flabbergasted.

Flynn's smile grew larger as he nodded.

EJ turned to Gibbs. "He knew about this!" it was a statement, not a question.

"How'd ya think I got the ring?" Gibbs said, leaning down and kissing her nose.

"Happy to run the errand, Sergeant," Flynn said. "Figured if I didn't lend a hand to get this taken care of our little lass might do something to extend your stay with us." He grinned down at EJ.

She reached out a hand to him, pulling him down to her and placing a kiss on his cheek. "Thank you," she said to the big Irishman. "I don't know how I would have survived here without you."

Flynn gave her a sheepish nod as a blush ran from his cheeks down his face, blotching his neck red.

Gibbs eyes focused on the door beyond Flynn as Doctor Ritchie entered. He noticed the doctor raise an eyebrow when he saw EJ laying in the bed. Then his gaze traveled to the box and ring in EJ's hand.

"I see congratulations are in order," the doctor said, stepping over to the bed.

"Thanks, Doc," Gibbs replied. "When can I get outta here?"

"How would you feel if I told you tonight's your last night with us?"

"Second best news I've had today," Gibbs said, smiling at EJ.

"You'll be released tomorrow," Ritchie said. "But you need to rest for a minimum of four weeks. And I mean rest. Not kinda rest, or sorta rest. Rest! You almost died, Sergeant. Your body needs more time to heal itself. No strenuous activity, no work, no stress."

Ritchie looked at EJ. "I'm placing him under your care, Agent Barrett. Think you can keep this old jarhead in line?" he finished with a chuckle.

"No problem, Colonel," EJ piped back. "He'll behave, if he knows what's good for him!"

"Hey," Gibbs whined, "no fair ganging up on the old guy."

"You know," the doctor said, his voice mischievous, looking at the ring in its box, "I hear it's not official until the ring goes on the finger."

"Aye," Flynn said, picking up on the taunt, "that's true, for sure."

Gibbs reached down and pulled the ring from the box. His other hand gently grasped EJ's left hand. He paused with the ring at the tip of her finger until she looked up into his eyes. "I love you, Erica. Always have. Always will."

Her smile wrapped around him, warming him to his core as he slid the ring on her finger. He pulled her into his embrace once more, running his fingers through her hair as she encircled her arms around his neck.

She moved her mouth to his ear and whispered, "best damn decision you ever made," and then nipped his earlobe, sending tingles all the way down to his toes.

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