A/N: I wrote this quick little thing today. I've been thinking a lot about how Maria is going to leave the show, and how we never did see Slibbs officially take off. I'm not sure what to expect in her last eight episodes and what kind of end Slibbs will have. Whatever the case will be, I know better than to get my hopes up. This piece is essentially my thoughts on Gibbs and why he has never ended up with anyone.
She loved him.
That much had been clear to her for a long time. It had never been said, and it was also clear to her that it never would be. He wasn't on the same page.
Somewhere in there he felt the same, she could feel it. But she knew he was so held back by his demons that he wasn't ever going to truly move on. He wasn't going to let love take hold and be expressed.
Perhaps he felt like he was betraying his dead wife. Perhaps he was too scarred to remember how to express it.
She had known he didn't have reputable relationship history. She'd heard about the infamous three ex-wives and the multiple relationships scattered in between and after. She'd heard from Leon that the female Director before him had also been involved with Gibbs a long time ago. That woman had died, as well as one of the ex-wives. She wasn't sure how those deaths had affected him, but she was positive it hadn't been helpful on top of all the emotions he buried.
And then she'd had to find out with everyone else that there had even been a whole other woman he had been engaged to years before who had also met an untimely end. Not only did she find this out when she was wrestling with her own emotions for Gibbs, but then she had to interview him about the woman, and that hadn't exactly gone over so well.
He'd ended up having a breakdown shortly after that when things had continued to pile up and his emotions had taken a toll. He'd been a tense wreck for weeks. She'd been her own wreck, dealing with her own past traumas and emotions. He wasn't there for her, and she couldn't be there for him like she wanted.
She'd thought maybe the elephant conversation would go somewhere, that eventually it would be addressed—but he wouldn't open up, and she couldn't bring herself to either. Maybe because all she could see in his eyes were those ghosts that he wouldn't let go.
She realized he was never going to change. It was a sad truth. They both had deep scars, things that held them back, traumas they could relate on—but that understanding wasn't enough, because he wouldn't move on. She wasn't going to be the person he changed for or moved on with, much as she wished that was the case.
She had envisioned for a long time that one of these days he would finally look at her and tell her how he felt. That maybe one of those nights after work spent playing poker, or eating steak, or simply relaxing, he would finally cave in and do more than just kiss her forehead. Any other man would have tried to take her to bed.
Gibbs was careful. Calculating. Guarded. He had his insecurities, and he over-analyzed at times. It felt like his heart was a near impenetrable force, but perhaps it had been so open and damaged that it was beyond repair.
She didn't understood at first why things hadn't ended well with the other women and why they'd left him. She'd wondered if he just had a bad habit of going after the wrong types.
But now she understood. She now saw what they had ended up seeing—a man who was never going to move on. No woman could compete with his past memories. No woman would ever be the one that broke the barrier of emotion and grief.
He was a solid man with a good heart. In his own Gibbs way he was genuinely loving, gentlemanly, protective and loyal. The kind of man any woman wished for, which was why he was popular among the ladies. But no amount of wishing and patience would change his unresolved grief and unrelenting loyalty to his dead family. He wasn't going to move on because he didn't want to. The near three decades of not doing so was enough to prove that.
It was a hard pill to swallow. It was hard to accept that he'd never acknowledge what they could have. That they wouldn't ever be whispering sweet nothings, waking up together, or simply be there for each other at home after the long and bad days at work.
It had taken a long time to build the foundation they had. The one step forward, two steps back progression had been tricky to navigate. Sure, she could have gone for it and been the one to take him to bed at some point. She knew it wouldn't have been so hard to make that happen. Making it work after though, that would have been difficult—which was precisely why so many of those women had given up. No new foundation could top the broken one he still clung to.
At least they were friends and nothing was shattered between them because they hadn't attempted anything more serious. Perhaps that was why he had been so guarded with her, because he'd been through the cycle enough times to know he'd hurt her. Perhaps it was his way of saying he loved her, by just remaining friends and protecting her from an otherwise inevitable fallout.
She would always cherish the memories. She would always cherish the fact that they had been able to confide in each other and spend time together. She would always cherish the fact that he had made her realize she was still capable of experiencing strong infatuation, the level of which made her feel like a giddy teenage girl again. She would always cherish him.
But it was time to let her heart move on, because his wouldn't.
So she smiled and moved on—
because she also loved herself.