The primal howl ringing in her ears sounded barely human, let alone something that could come from her own body.
"Shhhh."
He was trying to soothe her, to stop the pain. He didn't know that she would never let him do that. No matter how badly she wanted to.
She had killed them, and nothing could change that. But she felt so safe inside his arms...
Cold sweat sent icy fingers down to the small of her back; she shot from his embrace, bursting off the couch, wild and angry.
"Hey..."
She didn't answer. Arms and hair flew around like a great wind blew through the room. She swiped at clinging strands and searing guilt, trying to claw her way out from under both.
"Slow down, Jack."
She spun around, cut him off through grit teeth and fresh tears, her voice throaty and dogmatic, each word an accusation.
"This isn't something I get to have, Gibbs! Dammit! I need to go."
"Go where, Jack?!"
"I just...I didn't come here for this."
She hadn't, had she? This was the cost, the bridge man's toll for everything she'd done. Everything she'd failed to do. The pain was hers to carry forever and she hadn't come so Gibbs could make her feel safe.
"You didn't come for what, Jack?"
She turned for the door, trying desperately to keep moving away from him.
"Hey! Stop, dammit!"
He was off the couch in half a heartbeat, chasing her escape.
"You better figure out what the hell you're running away from, Sloane. There's nothing out there for you!"
"You don't understand, Gibbs!"
"The hell I don't!"
"You DON'T!"
"You think, because I wasn't there, I can't understand, Jack?! You think I don't know what you're going through?!"
"You CAN'T, Gibbs!"
The way she spit out his name made her feel dirty. She'd been to war with the finest, most honorable men and women in the world, yet none were close to Gibbs' equal. This man, who fought every battle like his wife and daughter were on the other side of the wire. The same man who never gave up, who never stopped fighting.
He stood before her quietly, anger and frustration gone from his face.
"You think you're the guilty one, Jack."
It wasn't a question. He said it to her as if finally putting to sound a secret only she knew. She stared at him through her tears, watched his own rise against a sea of blue.
"You think you killed your men. By simply not being enough to save them."
His stare fixed her silence. Understanding - the kind born only of common experience - pushed across the empty space between them.
"And you think you don't deserve the rest of your life. At all. Especially when you feel anything other than the purest pains for misery. Because that's what you owe them, right?"
His voice had dropped to nearly a whisper, the gravity of his words weighing it down until she was sure he would soon stop making sound at all.
"To spend the rest of your life paying for your failure. Never sigh with relief. Never rest. Never be warmed by anything other than the fire of self-hatred inside your own chest."
He put a fist to his chest.
"And to never, EVER, allow yourself a single moment of peace, because you stole the rest of their lives from them. Stole it with your failure."
He finally blinked, his tears released.
He turned from her then, walked to the couch, and sat; not the collapsing fall of a defeated man, but the purposeful positioning of a man who had come to terms with himself.
The wetness stayed on his face.
"I was in Iraq when Shannon and Kelly were killed. Shannon witnessed a crime, a murder, at Camp Pendleton, and was determined to see the killer brought to justice. You think I'm stubborn - "
He chuckled, shook his head a little.
" - couldn't hold a candle to Shannon. You would have liked her."
He smiled at her for a brief second, and then continued.
"The man she saw turned out to be the leader of a Mexican drug cartel. Pedro Hernandez. They died in a car wreck when the NCIS agent escorting them to the courthouse was shot by Hernandez."
Fresh pain flashed across his face.
"Ari Haswari murdered Agent Todd...Kate...to hurt me. I had the chance to kill him - I didn't - and he murdered her."
He took a deep breath.
"And Ziva…"
His voice broke.
"They all died because of me, Jack. Because I failed to protect them. I failed them."
Finally, he dropped his eyes, his calloused hands pushed through silver hair, and she took a breath for what felt the first time since she'd stopped moving. There were no words she could say, even if she could have spoken.
"Jack, I can't fight this battle for you. But I can promise you - I understand."
His eyes met hers again, filled with knowing.
"I know why you don't sleep. Why you put yourself out there, busting your ass to rescue everyone else - but refuse to let anyone in. I know why you came here tonight, and why that's killing you."
She wanted to go to him, to collapse and cry and feel anything other than alone but she couldn't allow herself the first step.
"It took me over twenty years to realize what a mistake I'd made, Jack. The same mistake you're making now. People who loved me tried to tell me - wouldn't listen."
Shaking his head, he stood from the couch and moved toward her, his shifting proximity lifting her feet from the hardwood and pushing her backwards, away from his absolution.
"Gibbs..."
Her voice was barely a whisper.
"Jack, you're wrong."
"Gibbs…"
She shook her head at him; nausea and dizziness threatened to knock her down.
"No, you listen to me, Jack. Twenty years of pushing everyone away because I thought I owed my wife and daughter a lifetime of misery. Of pain. Listen to how that sounds. Is that what your men would want from you? Think about it…"
Logic and emotion made lousy bedfellows she thought as she looked through a watery screen of tears.
"I killed him…"
"No, Jack! Nigel Hakim killed him!"
His urgency frightened her, made the blood drain from her face. The remains of her meticulously crafted wall crumbled and the full measure of frailty spilled out. Weeks of little food and even less sleep had taken their toll; she had become a shell of herself.
Without sound, she collapsed. Gibbs caught her before she could hit the floor, his capable hands taking care to cradle her against him softly. Leaning her against his chest, she felt his arm under her shoulders as the other slid under her legs. He lifted her smoothly and walked to the couch.
"Easy, Jack. I got'cha."
She could hear herself crying, hated how weak she felt. But the strength of his arms around her was more than she was willing to fight and she found herself sinking into their warmth, lost in their safety.
Everything about the way he held her, the way he covered her, smoothed the hair from her face, and pulled the blanket over her trembled frame, made her feel protected. Like the darkness could never touch her again. She knew it was a fantasy, of course. But for one delusional moment, she bought the lie and allowed her eyes to close.
Sleep came hard and fast.
When she woke, the familiar smell of burning wood and coffee filled the sunlit room. The unfamiliar feeling of Gibbs' body behind hers gave her pause as she tried to find a purchase in reality. She could feel the weight of his legs, wound seamlessly over and under hers, and the warmth of his breath against the skin of her ear. His arms still protectively around her, flashes of the previous night's drama began to play in her mind, her heartbeat and breath quickening.
"Just be still, Jack. You're ok."
His voice came to her like a salve over angry wounds, instant relief to burning flesh. He kissed her, gently and chastely against the hair on her neck. Such a simple gesture and yet it sent a wave of calm she'd never take for granted.
"Just breathe."
So she did. In and out, matching his own. And she listened as he spoke quietly behind her.
"Bad people killed the ones we loved, Jack. Not us. The hardest thing I've had to learn was how to live without my wife and daughter. I can't tell you how you'll figure it out the next part of your life. But what I know for sure is this; what we owe them isn't more pain. It isn't more suffering. We owe them life. Good life. Because it's what they would have given us if they were here. It's what they would have been kicking our asses for not living up till now."
Tears began to fall as she heard his words, took them in and tried to believe them.
"I can't fight this for you, Jack. But I'll be here - every step of the way. It won't be easy, but you have to fight it. And I'll be right here."
She answered his promise, pulling his arms tighter around her. If he could believe he was supposed to live a better life, then so could she. He'd lost so much more, and still he fought.
And so would she.
I'm still crying...
and it's not over :-P