A/N: This deals with serious subject matter. You have been warned. Not intensely graphic, but this deals with rape and assault.
Leroy Jethro Gibbs sighed as he put his sander down on his work table. He couldn't find his cell phone and it was driving him crazy. He firmly believed in rule three and knew he wouldn't be able to concentrate until he found the small device. He'd had it on the drive home from work, that much he was sure of. Knowing it was probably in his truck, he decided that he would go search for it and made his way up the stairs. If it wasn't there, he had absolutely no idea where it could be.
Wrenching open his front door, he frowned when he tripped over something lying on his front porch and when he glanced down, he swore loudly. The something he had tripped over was a someone and as his eyes adjusted to the darkness, he noticed that the someone was covered in blood. Kneeling down, the sinking feeling in his stomach intensified as he took in the features of the person on his porch. The pale skin, thin frame and fiery red hair could belong to no one else. He reached out cautiously, turning her over and when her wide green eyes locked on his, he forgot how to breathe.
"Jen? What the hell happened to you? Are you okay?"
She didn't answer, and when he tried to brush her hair back so that he could see her face better, she jerked away. He moved slower on his second attempt and when his hand touched her cheek, he could feel how badly she was shaking. Holding out his hand, he helped her to her feet, trying to take in every detail of her disheveled appearance.
With an arm around her shoulders, he led her into his house, sitting her gently on the couch in the his living room. He flipped on the light switch and she shut her eyes against the brightness. Kneeling in front of her, his eyes roamed over her body, checking for any serious injuries. Finding none, he straightened and made his way into the kitchen, returning with a damp towel.
Gibbs gently set about cleaning the blood from her face and each time she winced, he stopped until she nodded. Finally, he had finished, offering her a glass of bourbon, and when he sat down next to her, she didn't move away.
"Whenever you're ready, Jen."
"I..." she paused, clearly fighting back tears, and he took her hand gently, "I was on my way home from work, walking to my car..."
She shook her head and he frowned as he took inventory of her injuries. A bruise was beginning to blossom under her left eye, there were definite finger marks around her throat, her bottom lip was cut, and there was a ring of bruises circling her wrists. Her voice was hoarse, whether from screaming or the hands that had tried to strangle her, he didn't know, but he was furious.
"I couldn't really see who it was. Too dark, but I did notice that he had a tattoo. I'll sketch out what I remember later. I tried to stop it, Jethro..I really did, but..."
Her voice faltered and he shook his head, looking at her seriously.
"It's not your fault, Jenny. I promise."
She looked back at him, and he could feel the fear radiating from her. Wrapping his arm around her, he kissed her temple. Her head fell onto his shoulder and when she spoke next, he could hear the tears in her voice.
"I tried...I screamed, and tried to get away...I—God, Jethro, I was so scared."
Jenny turned into his chest, her hands clinging to his shirt and he held her close as her tears soaked his clothing. He was beyond furious at what had happened to her, but he knew that right now, she was the most important thing to focus on.
"Shh...I know, Jen. You're safe here. Nothing's going to hurt you. I promise."
She sobbed in his arms and when she had finally calmed down a bit, he shifted so that he could look in her eyes.
"Jen...I know you don't want to hear this, but we need to do a rape kit. There might be physical evidence."
Her eyes widened and her head shook desperately.
"Please, Jethro. Don't make me go to a hospital. The press. Someone would find out. He might come after me again."
He placed his finger over her lips, stopping her protests and shook his own head.
"We'll call Ducky. He'll know what to do."
When Doctor Donald Mallard entered the autopsy room, nothing could have prepared him for the sight in front of him. Sitting on the cold table, wrapped in a coat much too big, tightly gripping the hand of the man standing next to her, was Jennifer Shepard. He'd known something was wrong when Gibbs had asked him to return to work at 2300 on a Friday night, but he'd never expected this.
"My goodness. Jennifer, are you alright?"
"A word, Duck."
Gibbs took him by the arm after releasing Jenny's hand, and led him to the hallway. Glancing over his shoulder once, Ducky looked up at the younger man, confusion written all over his face.
"What's happened?"
"Need you to do a rape kit, Ducky."
The doctor drew in a sharp breath and nodded.
"I'll explain when you're done. And Duck? Be careful. She's scared out of her mind."
"Of course."
They stepped back into the room and Ducky gave her what he hoped was a reassuring smile. Jenny didn't return it, and when he took a step closer, she recoiled. Gibbs placed a hand on the small of her back and she moved as close to him as possible. Ducky reached for a pair of gloves and attempted to remove the coat from her shoulders. Jenny closed her eyes and turned away, her entire body shaking.
"Jen, it's okay. It's just Ducky. He's not going to hurt you."
Jethro's voice was low in her ear, and when she opened her eyes, they landed on the doctor waiting patiently in front of her. Searching his eyes, Jenny finally nodded and shrugged off the coat, handing it to Gibbs.
"Do you want me to leave, Jen?"
She thought for a moment, and finally nodded. She knew she'd be safe with Ducky. Gibbs squeezed her hand once and gave Ducky a sad smile as he left them alone, knowing her privacy was very important to her.
"I know it's uncomfortable my dear, but could you lie back for me?"
Her eyes locking with Ducky's, Jenny did as he asked, closing her eyes slowly As Ducky began his examination, she tried desperately to pretend that she was somewhere else. Anywhere else.
"Jethro, we're finished."
Gibbs turned at the sound of the doctor's voice and nodded. As he made to return to the autopsy room, Ducky's hand on his arm halted his steps.
"What happened?"
"I was working on my boat. Couldn't find my phone, so I went out to look in my truck. When I opened my front door, she was laying on my porch. Covered in blood, shaking, scared. I brought her in the house to check for any kind of life-threatening injuries."
"Did she say anything?"
"Not much. She said she was on her way to her car. Didn't see who it was, but she said he had a tattoo. Said she'd sketch it later. That's about it."
Ducky sighed, shaking his head sadly.
"Well, whoever it was took great precautions. Wore a condom and gloves. I found traces of latex on her skin. Nothing under her nails to run for DNA, but with it being so cold out, he was probably well layered. No exposed skin for her to touch. Her wrists are severely bruised, so she was most likely restrained for the duration. She's not speaking, but given the state of her throat, I'm not surprised. Any use of her vocal chords will be quite painful for some time. I'm more concerned with her emotional state than anything physical right now. She's likely going to be very jumpy for awhile. Very distrusting. I would suggest her taking a few days off from work, but you know how stubborn Jennifer can be."
He nodded.
"What can I do?"
Ducky placed a hand on his shoulder, looking at him seriously.
"Be there for her. She's going to need someone she trusts. Be patient with her."
Gibbs nodded again and headed for the door. When he walked through, he focused on the redhead in front of him, careful not to move too quickly.
"Jen?"
She glanced up at him, her eyes empty.
"We can leave now."
Nodding, she reached for the coat he'd given her and he gently helped her down from the table. Her body was shaking violently and he wrapped his arm around her shoulders. As they passed Ducky, Jenny paused and reached out to hug him tightly. Gibbs met Ducky's eyes over the top of her head and a silent understanding passed between them. One way or another, they would find the person who had hurt her.
Leading her towards his bedroom, Gibbs frowned when Jenny shook her head. Looking down at her, he could see the fear in her eyes, and he took her hand.
"What is it?"
"I don't want to sleep," she said, her voice hoarse.
He nodded.
"You can stay with me while I work on the boat," he offered.
Jenny smiled and he turned them both to the basement steps. When she slid onto the stool by his work table, he gave her a smile as he picked up his sander. He could feel her eyes following his movements, so when she finally spoke, it came as no surprise.
"Thank you, Jethro."
Her voice was soft, and he turned to face her. His eyes softened when he saw that there were tears in her eyes and he crossed the room, standing in front of her.
"Anytime."
He poured bourbon into two mason jars and she downed it quickly. He sipped his own, watching her carefully. The last thing he needed was for her to get hurt because she was drunk. She reached for the bottle of bourbon and he shook his head gently.
"Slow down, Jenny. It's not going anywhere."
Nodding, Jenny slid off the stool and made her way to the couch that Abby had insisted he buy. He still rarely used it, but it was perfect for her needs now. She laid down and watched him as he sanded, the soft sound providing a sense of security she hadn't known she needed until then, and within minutes, she had fallen asleep. Gibbs watched her for a moment, and smiled as she slept, hoping she was getting much needed rest.
As she made her way to her car, Jenny was thankful for the darkness that shielded her from any scrutiny. Her legs still burned from her run in the gym and she was so focused on the relief of the bath she was going to have that she didn't notice the eyes that followed her. Just as she was nearing her car in the lot, a rough hand grabbed her wrist, spinning her around. Fighting the urge to scream, she struggled against the vice-like hold on her arm and as she was forced to the ground, her free hand lashed out. It connected with the face of her attacker, but it wasn't enough for her to be able to break away.
A second hand found her throat, tightening painfully as she resisted and when her dress pants were ripped from her body, she finally screamed, earning a hard slap to her face. The slap rattled her, and her teeth sank down into her bottom lip. She tasted blood and as it poured from her mouth, she whimpered.
"You even think about screaming again, and I'll slit that pretty throat of yours. Understand?"
Properly terrified now, she nodded and closed her eyes as the hand around her throat tightened even more. She kept struggling, and when she was roughly entered, she couldn't stop the tears that fell from her eyes. What seemed to last hours in reality was less than fifteen minutes and when she was finally released, she coughed roughly, trying and failing to stop the sobs that tore through her entire body.
Jenny screamed as she woke, her eyes frantically trying to see in the darkness. Hands grabbed her and she struggled violently, desperate to get away.
"Jenny, it's okay. Jen...you're safe. Calm down. It's okay."
Wait. She knew that voice. Emerald eyes found cobalt blue in the blackness and she relaxed.
"Jethro?"
"I'm right here."
She collapsed against his chest, her breathing ragged, and as he cradled her in his arms, she held onto him tightly.
"You're safe, Jen. Nothing's gonna hurt you."
Jenny raised her head to look at him and she threw her arms around his neck. He held her as tightly as he dared and ran his fingers through her hair. A gentle kiss was placed on her cheek and when she spoke, her voice was somewhat calmer.
"I'm sorry, Jethro."
"Don't apologise."
"I know," she murmured, "Sign of weakness."
"No," he shook his head, "You just don't have anything to be sorry for. You didn't do anything wrong."
Gibbs held her closer and kissed her. She pulled away and looked up at him, trying to keep the tears in her eyes from falling.
"I feel so stupid. I should have never been out at night like that."
"No, Jenny. Don't blame yourself for this. None of this is your fault."
Jenny buried her head in his chest and when Gibbs felt her grip on his shirt loosen, he gently maneuvered her so that she was laying on the couch once more. He'd never seen Jenny this vulnerable and it was unnerving. He watched her sleep for longer than he would ever admit and when he felt his own eyes growing heavy, he laid down under the skeleton of his boat. His last waking thought was of how he was going to help the woman currently sleeping in his basement.
The scent of coffee roused Jenny from her sleep and she blinked slowly. A cup sat on the ground near her and when she glanced around the room, she found she was alone. Reaching for the coffee, she was relieved that it was still hot and she took a tentative sip. He still remembered how she took her coffee and though it wasn't a huge detail, it made her smile. Soft footsteps signaled his return and when he saw her, hair tousled from sleep, makeup slightly smudged and a smile on her face, he gave her a smile of his own. She looked beautiful, in spite of the bruises on her skin, or perhaps because of them. She'd been through something he couldn't even imagine and still managed to stay so strong. She was breathtaking.
"Morning, Jen."
It had been years since he'd said those words to her off the job, but it still felt so natural. She raised her eyes to his and smiled.
"Morning. What time is it?"
"0745."
She nodded and he watched her for a moment, trying to decide if he should approach her. Finally, he settled on the work stool and fixed her with a curious look.
"How did you sleep?"
"I've had better," she admitted.
He nodded, taking a long drink from his cup.
"I figured."
They lapsed into comfortable silence as he sanded and she drank her coffee. She admired the way his hands were so steady on the wood, the way his eyes were so focused, and she wondered what it would be like to have him that focused on her again. As much as she'd tried to ignore her feelings since she'd come back, she couldn't deny just how much she'd missed him. He must have felt her watching him, because he turned and his trademark smirk adorned his face as he looked over at her.
"Want to help?"
She shook her head.
"No. The boat is your thing. I don't want to intrude."
He held out his hand, smiling.
"Come on, Jen. I'll teach you."
Sighing, she drained her coffee cup and reached for his outstretched hand. The jolt that passed through her at his touch made her eyes widen, but she said nothing. He handed her the sander and as she held it, his own hands closed around hers, moving them slowly with the grain of the wood. His body was warm against hers and she unconsciously leaned back into him, breathing in the scent of sawdust, bourbon, and coffee.
"See? It's easy."
His breath was warm in her ear and she shivered. Just before he stepped back, Gibbs placed a light kiss on the shell of her ear and when she turned, he was already at the work table. Jenny stopped sanding the boat and faced him, a puzzled look on her face.
"Jethro?"
"Hm?"
"What are we doing here?"
"Sanding my boat. Drinking coffee."
She rolled her eyes so hard that for a moment he was worried they would fall from the sockets.
"You know what I meant. Us. What are we?"
He came closer to her, pinning her between the boat and his body, but giving her enough space that she wouldn't feel trapped.
"What do you want us to be? You know how I feel about you. I'm leaving this up to you."
She frowned.
"No, actually, I don't know. I told you years ago that I loved you and you threw it back in my face."
He frowned. She did have a point.
"I shouldn't have done that," he admitted, "I'm sorry."
Jenny smiled.
"Thought apologising was a sign of weakness."
Gibbs shook his head.
"Not between friends."
He leaned a bit closer to her, noting the way her breath caught, and he smiled.
"Ball's in your court, Jen."
She was silent, considering her options carefully. He kissed her cheek, lingering a bit longer than necessary, and when her hand reached up to touch his face gently, she smiled.
"I think you know what I want."
Jenny pulled him down to her, threading her fingers through his hair as she kissed him. He broke away after a few seconds and he smirked.
"Yeah, I think I got the memo."
Leroy Jethro Gibbs had never seen someone so drunk in his entire life. Not, at least, someone that was as drunk as Jenny was and still able to stand. Her eyes were glazed with alcohol, and judging by the way she was clinging to the door frame, she was dangerously close to falling.
"Jen? Are you okay?"
She nodded, and he wondered if she was even able to speak.
"What are you doing here?"
Well, that was one of his questions answered. Her words were slurred, but he still understood her perfectly.
"I wanted to see if you were okay."
"I'm fine."
She stepped back to allow him entrance and when she stumbled, his hand instinctively reached out to steady her. Her eyes widened at his hand on her arm and she frowned.
"Yeah," he remarked dryly, "I can see how fine you are. Let me help you inside."
He led her into the house, shutting the door and he watched as she staggered to her living room, amazed that she had ever made it to answer the door in the first place. He followed her, wondering what had caused her to go on this drinking binge and as she sank down on her couch, he frowned at her uncharacteristic laugh.
"Jen, what's going on?"
"Wanted to forget," she murmured.
He nodded, making his way over to her. He sat next to her and when she rested her head on his shoulder, he could smell the bourbon on her breath. Her lips trailed along his throat and he sighed. Alcohol always made Jenny chatty and bold. She flicked her tongue against his earlobe and he pulled away from her, looking at her seriously.
"Jen, we can't. Not like this."
She pouted, but kept kissing his throat. When she finally captured his lips with her own, his resolve had weakened, and he kissing her back hungrily. He ran his hand through her long hair, and pulled her shirt from her body, trailing his lips over her exposed skin. Calloused fingers roamed over her legs and after a few moments, found the button on her jeans.
As Jethro's hand reached for the waistband of her jeans, Jenny's eyes flew open. Flashes of another hand roughly pulling her clothing from her body flickered through her mind and she began to shake. Pushing his chest, she scrambled backward, her eyes wild.
"Don't. Don't touch me."
"Jen, what—"
"Don't touch me!" she screamed, tears falling from her eyes.
He frowned, handing her the shirt she had discarded and as she pulled it over her head, he inwardly cursed himself. He should have known that this would be too much too soon. His eyes landed on her as she wrapped her arms around herself and he ran a hand through his hair.
"Jen. I promise, I'm not going to hurt you."
Her head shook and she fixed him with a look that nearly took his breath away. He'd never seen such fear and pain in her eyes and he wanted nothing more than to take it away.
"I know, Jethro. I know. I'm sorry, I just—I got freaked out for a second."
He tentatively reached out his hand and when she didn't protest, he wrapped an arm around her shoulders. She leaned into him, and he placed a gentle kiss to her temple. She suddenly tensed in his arms and he frowned when she bolted from the couch, throwing her hand over her mouth. Stumbling into the bathroom, she barely had time to gather her hair back before she was violently sick.
Jethro walked into the small room, kneeling behind her, and took her hair in his hands. Her body convulsed as she leaned over the porcelain and when she had finally stopped, she leaned back against his chest.
"Better?"
"Not really. I'm never drinking this much again."
"I hope not," he said seriously.
"Jethro, you act like-"
Her words were cut short as she felt the bile rise in her throat. He rubbed her back soothingly and after she had rinsed her mouth, he swept her up into his arms.
"You need to get some sleep, Jen."
"Will you stay?"
"Sure. But only if you sleep."
Jenny nodded against his body and as he placed her on the couch, he noticed she had already passed out. He pulled out his phone, dialing quickly and when a voice answered on the second ring, he breathed a sigh of relief.
"Ducky, got a minute?"
"Of course, Jethro. How may I help you?"
"It's Jenny. She's drunker than I've ever seen her. She kissed me, and when things got a little heavy, she freaked. How can I fix it?"
Ducky sighed and Gibbs tapped his foot impatiently.
"Jethro, you cannot fix her. Jennifer isn't a broken window. She's likely experiencing PTSD and it's going to take time for her to heal. She's going to be very fragile for awhile. All you can do is take things slow and be there for her."
As much as he knew Ducky was right, Gibbs didn't like the answer. He didn't like problems or situations that he had no control over. Jenny's pain was something he had never experienced and as such, he was unsure of how to help her. After talking to the doctor for a few more minutes, Jethro hung up and turned his attention to his sleeping redhead. He ran his fingers through the fiery silken strands and leaned down to kiss her gently.
"I love you, Jen."
He had no idea how long it would take for Jenny to recover. No idea if they would ever find the man responsible for hurting her, but he swore on his wife and daughter's memories that he would do everything in his power to keep her safe.
A/N: I'm undecided on whether or not I should continue this. Thoughts?