A/N: Hello, my fantastic readers! Here's the next chapter! The next one will be posted on Saturday. In which we see Jenny and Gibbs navigate Tori's birthday party amidst a raging addiction, and Gibbs tries to help.

Gibbs took the box that Jenny held out to him with a frown, turning it over in his hands.

"What is it?"

Jenny sighed, running her hand through her hair.

"It's Tori's birthday present. Heather and I both got one just like it when we turned seven, and I want to give her one."

He nodded, handing it back to her, and when she set it carefully on his work table, he smiled.

"Want me to personalise it for her? I can paint her name on it, make it special."

Jenny smiled, kissing him gently and nodded.

"That would be nice. Thank you."

He kissed her again, and when they broke apart, she reached for the mason jar of bourbon. He frowned as she emptied it and poured another. He wasn't sure how to broach the subject with her, and so he had stayed silent, but she'd already had six drinks that night. He was beginning to grow more concerned, and though she had seemed fine, he knew Jenny well enough to doubt her.

"Jen?"

"Hm?"

"Everything okay?"

She nodded, smiling at him reassuringly, and took a slow drink. Her eyes were bright with alcohol, and he wondered if she was going to be sick.

"Jen...what's going on?"

She frowned, looking at him as though the question was utterly ridiculous, and he sighed.

"That's your seventh bourbon tonight."

"And?"

"Don't you think you should slow down?"

She glared at him, eyes flashing dangerously, and he prepared for the screaming match that he knew was coming.

"I'm fine, Jethro! Don't make a big deal out of nothing. If I want to have a few drinks, it's really none of your business."

"It's not just a few drinks. Don't you see it? You're even drinking at the office, and—"

"How dare you? You come home in the middle of the workday to drink bourbon and work on your damn boat because it helps you think! Or did you think that I didn't know about that?"

"Jen, I—"

"I am not going to stand here and be lectured by a hypocrite like you about something that—"

She broke off, her eyes wide, and he frowned, taking a step closer to her.

"Jen?"

She held up her hand, turning on her heel and bolting for the stairs. Her frantic steps were loud above his head and he set his sander down, unsure of whether to go after her. Finally, he decided to walk up the stairs, under the pretense of needing coffee, and when he passed the bathroom, a violent retching reached his ears. He shook his head sadly at the sound, making his way into the kitchen, and when she appeared in the doorway a few minutes later, he met her eyes evenly.

He poured her a cup of coffee and held it out silently. She took it slowly, wiping away tears that had fallen as she'd thrown up, and he noticed for the first time how thin she was.

"Thanks," she said quietly, indicating the cup.

He nodded, taking in every detail of her ragged appearance. Her tangled red hair fell just below her shoulders, framing eyes so hollow that it scared him, and the paleness of her skin only made the dark circles under her eyes more pronounced than ever. She looked as though she hadn't slept in years, and though he'd known her nightmares were bad, he hadn't realised just how much they'd affected her.

She brought the cup upwards, and he was suddenly aware of how badly she was shaking. Hot coffee spilled onto her hand, and while she jumped at the sensation, she didn't seem to notice the burn. He reached for a towel, wiping her hand after she'd set the cup down, and he frowned at the now-red skin.

"Are you okay?"

She nodded, staring at her hand as he cleaned it.

"It doesn't hurt."

"Like hell it doesn't."

Smiling sadly, she gave a small laugh.

"Okay, yes. It hurts, but...I don't mind. It's a good thing."

He frowned.

"What?"

"I don't want to talk about it right now."

He looked at her seriously, cobalt locking on emerald, and he frowned again.

"Jenny...you haven't been..."

He sighed, unsure of how to ask her.

"Haven't been what?"

"Where's your knife?"

She gave him a knowing smile and shook her head.

"No, Jethro. I haven't."

Pulling up the sleeves of her shirt, she showed him the smooth white skin of her arms, and he was relieved to see that the only scars marking them were from years ago. He nodded, gesturing to her legs. She slowly rolled up the fabric of her sweats and he let out a sigh of relief. Her past history with self-harm had always worried him, and he was more than thankful to see that she hadn't fallen back into old habits.

"How long has it been?"

"Five years."

He kissed her cheek and met her eyes seriously.

"I'm proud of you."

She ran her fingers through his hair and smiled sadly.

"I never really thanked you, by the way."

"For?"

"You could have turned me in to Morrow when you found out. Gotten me taken off your team and sent to a psychiatrist. But you didn't."

He shrugged.

"That wouldn't have helped. Besides, I needed you on my team to keep Burley and Decker in line."

She laughed.

"Still...other than that...why didn't you? I could have been a liability to you. An emotionally unstable young woman who deals with her pain by bottling it up and then when she can't take any more, she cuts into her own skin? That could have been a nightmare."

He frowned, considering her words for a moment. She made a valid point.

"Because...as selfish as it sounds, I wanted to help you. I wanted to be the one that you trusted enough to talk to when you had a problem. I loved you even then, and I wanted to keep you safe. Even from yourself."

She smiled, and then when she laughed softly, he frowned again.

"You bastard. You wanted to be the knight in shining armor who rescued the damsel in distress."

He laughed, brushing her hair behind her ear.

"Something like that."

"Yeah, well this damsel in distress is your boss now. So suck it up."

"Yes, Your Majesty."

"Oh, shut up."

She leaned her head on his shoulder and smiled as his fingers slipped into her hair. They stood in comfortable silence for awhile and when he spoke next, his voice was cautious.

"Jen...I meant what I said. I want to be the person you trust enough to talk to when something is wrong. I know you don't think there's a problem, but you've been drinking way more than—"

"Stop. Nothing is wrong. I can handle myself. I appreciate your concern, but I'm fine."

She pulled out of his embrace and kissed his cheek lightly, reaching for her now-cold coffee. She poured it down the sink and walked quietly to the door, throwing him a look over her shoulder.

"I'm going to bed. Good night."

He nodded, and she disappeared up the stairs, leaving him wondering how he had messed up a conversation so badly in so little time.

Jenny was practically knocked off her feet as Tori hugged her as soon as Heather had opened their front door. She laughed at the child's excitement and wrapped her arms around her tightly.

"Aunt Jenny! You came!"

"Of course I did. Brought someone with me, too."

Tori let go of her, her eyes searching for Gibbs, and when she saw him walking up to the house, she ran past them, throwing herself on his legs.

"Jethro! You're here!"

He picked her up in one arm, her present held safely in the other, and kissed her cheek.

"Wouldn't miss it, Tori. Happy birthday."

"My birthday isn't until Monday," she pointed out.

"Well, happy birthday anyway."

Her eyes landed on the box in his hand and she smiled.

"Is that for me?"

"Yeah, but you can't open it yet."

Heather and Jenny both smiled, watching him with Tori was more heartwarming than they had expected, and Jenny suddenly wondered if he was remembering Kelly's past birthdays. He set her back on the ground and she ran back up to the house, grabbing Jenny's hand.

"We have cake, Aunt Jenny! And ice cream. Come on!"

She laughed as she was pulled through the house and Heather shook her head.

"Tori, go play with your friends. Let Aunt Jenny breathe for a bit."

"But Mommy..."

"Now, Victoria."

She pouted slightly, but let go of Jenny's arm. Jenny leaned down, giving her a smile, and kissed her on the cheek.

"Don't worry, we can play in a little while."

The child brightened and nodded, running off to find the friends from school that she had invited. Heather took the box from Gibbs and set it with the others on a nearby table and gestured to her couch.

"Please, sit down. She's just excited."

Jenny waved her words away.

"She's a little girl, Heather. Remember how we were at that age."

"Where's David?" Gibbs asked, looking around.

"Oh, he's out back cooking. Any excuse to barbecue and he's happy."

Gibbs smirked. Heather made her way into the kitchen and Gibbs sat down next to Jenny on the couch, wrapping his arm around her.

"Would either of you like a drink?"

"Sure."

"Beer okay?"

"Fine," Jenny answered, laying her head on his shoulder.

She knew he would be watching her, but she really didn't care. She intended to have a nice day, and he was going to be the last thing that ruined it.

Hours later, after eating cake, ice cream, and a pork tenderloin that Jenny would have sworn was cooked by God Himself, Tori was sitting in the living room, preparing to open her gifts. She had already decided that Jenny's was the first one she wanted to see, and when her mother handed it to her, she immediately began tearing the wrapping paper.

Her eyes widened when she saw the smooth wooden jewelry box, complete with a tiny lock on the outside, and when she touched it, she couldn't stop smiling.

"It's so pretty! Can I put anything I want in it?"

"You sure can. Your Mommy and I both have one like it."

Tori turned to her mother, her eyes wide.

"You do?"

Heather nodded.

"I'll show it to you later."

"Yours is special, Tori. Open it."

She took the key that Jenny handed her and as she opened the lid, she gasped in shock. The letters of her name gleamed up at her in shiny black paint, accented by flowers and vines, and Jenny reached for Gibbs' hand as she fought back tears. She hadn't seen the work he'd done on the box, and it was beyond breathtaking.

"Wow..." Tori whispered, "This is for me? Really?"

Jenny nodded, still clinging to his hand.

"Yeah. I found it and polished it, Jethro painted it."

"You did this?" Heather asked with a smile.

Gibbs nodded, and David leaned closer to examine it.

"Did you make the stencils yourself, or buy them?"

"Neither," he answered.

"Freehand? Damn. I'm impressed."

"It's beautiful, Jethro," Jenny whispered.

He shrugged, kissing her hand.

"It was easy. I'm glad you like it, Tori."

Gibbs and Jenny were both knocked backward as Tori launched herself at them in a hug and Jenny laughed breathlessly.

"Thank you, thank you, thank you!"

"You're welcome, Tori."

She climbed off of them, returning to the center of the room to open more presents and Gibbs carefully helped Jenny to an upright position. She smiled gratefully at him and when Tori had finally finished, she stood and ran towards the back door.

"Let's go play tag!"

The children made a beeline for the backyard and Heather smiled at her sister in thanks.

"That was a great idea, Jenny. She loved it."

Jenny shrugged, the gesture so like Gibbs that he smiled as he watched her.

"I figured...it seems to be a tradition in our family, might as well carry it on."

The adults all made their way to the kitchen, each pausing to grab another beer and Gibbs fought the urge to sigh. She'd had eight beers so far, and while the alcohol content wasn't nearly as high as their usual bourbon, it was still a bit much. She wasn't dangerously drunk yet, but he knew if he didn't stop her soon, they would be past the point of no return.

"Aunt Jenny, come play tag with us!"

Jenny smiled, tipping back her beer, and shook her head.

"Maybe later, Tori."

"Please? Pretty please? Pretty please with sugar on top? Pretty please with—"

"Alright! Okay, I'm coming," Jenny laughed, standing up from her chair.

Gibbs watched her as she walked into the back yard, checking for any signs that she was too intoxicated for this. She was slightly unsteady as she moved, but he supposed that could be a result of the uneven ground, and as he took a drink of his own beer, Heather came to sit next to him.

"Thank you for coming today. I know it must be hard."

He shook his head, smiling at her.

"Not as hard as you'd think. If it had been ten years ago, I would have never even come within fifty feet of a child, but it gets easier to bear with time."

She nodded, watching as Jenny swept Tori into her arms and spun her around, laughing.

"She seems happy. Happier than I've seen her since our Dad died."

He watched Jenny pretend to not see Tori as she hid behind a tree and when Tori jumped out at her, she screamed dramatically, much to the child's delight.

"I got you, Aunt Jenny! I scared you!"

He laughed as Jenny swung the child over her shoulder and Heather smiled as she took a drink.

"Tori absolutely loves her. And you."

He nodded.

"She's a great kid, Heather."

"Are you two...are you planning on having any of your own?"

He shook his head.

"Nah. We talked about it, but we decided not to. We'll just spoil yours."

Jenny walked over, brushing her hair out of her face and reached for her beer. She was disappointed to find it empty and when she walked away to retrieve another, Gibbs sighed.

"What?" Heather asked.

He shook his head.

"Nothing."

Jenny returned, positioning herself gracefully on his lap, and Heather smiled.

"I'm really glad you could make it, Jenny."

She nodded.

"Tori would have never let me live it down if I hadn't. Might have even tried to kidnap me."

Gibbs snorted.

"Wouldn't be the first time."

"Shut up, Jethro."

He shrugged, draining the last of his beer and when he pulled hers from her hand, she frowned.

"Really?"

"To be fair, you're sitting on me. Can't exactly go get another one."

Nodding, Jenny wrapped her arm around his neck and when he finally passed the bottle back to her, it was nearly empty. She frowned, but finished it anyway, and set it down on the table. She was slightly uncoordinated and the bottle slipped on the glass tabletop, pitching her forward. Gibbs tightened his hold on her, managing to keep her from falling, and Heather frowned.

"You okay?"

Jenny nodded, and Gibbs frowned again. Her face had drained of all colour, and she stood, making her way quickly inside. She nearly crashed into David as he joined them with another plate of food, and he watched her go, concerned.

"She okay?"

Gibbs nodded, standing.

"Yeah. Be right back."

Finding Jenny just where he knew she'd be, Gibbs knocked gently on the bathroom door and when she opened it, he noticed the tears streaking down her face. She wiped them away, glaring at him as she rinsed out her mouth with mouthwash, and when she pushed past him, he tried to grab her arm.

"Jen—"

"Save it. I don't want to hear it."

She made her way back into the kitchen, pausing to grab a plate of food, and when she reached for a drink, he grabbed her wrist.

"Enough, Jen."

She jerked her arm away, her eyes cold, and he shook his head.

"You've already gotten sick once today."

"I'm fine."

He grabbed her arm again as she tried to reach for the beer bottle and he glared at her.

"You're not fine. You're drunk. Again. And we're leaving."

"You don't own me, Jethro. You don't get to tell me when or where I'm going, or when to stop drinking. You of all people have absolutely no room to talk."

He sighed, searching her eyes, willing her to listen.

"Jen, it's your niece's birthday party. Do you really want Tori to remember this as the day you passed out in her back yard because you were so drunk you couldn't stand?"

She held his gaze for a long moment, and finally she nodded. Her eyes were colder than he'd seen in awhile, and she jerked her arm from his grasp.

"Fine. We can leave, but you'd better think of a good excuse."

He nodded, and she took a tentative bite of the food she'd picked up. He walked past her to the back yard and she followed seconds later, brushing her hair back from her still-pale face.

"Jenny, are you okay?"

She gave her sister a weak smile and nodded.

"Yeah, but I think we'd better call it a night. I'm going to say goodbye to Tori."

Walking carefully to the group of children, Jenny leaned down and hugged her niece, her arms wrapping around her gently. Heather looked to Gibbs, a concerned look in her eyes and she spoke softly.

"Is it her illness?"

Gibbs frowned, unsure of how to answer.

"She's just not feeling well."

There. It wasn't an outright lie, and if her sister chose to believe it was a result of Jenny's illness, then he had no control over that. Perhaps it would even be better than the truth.

"Thanks again for having us, though, We had a great time."

David held out his hand, and Gibbs took it. He hugged Heather gently, and offered her a smile. When he smiled, she could understand exactly what it was that Jenny saw in him.

"Tell Jenny I hope she feels better," David said.

He nodded. Jenny walked back, hugging her sister tightly, and she smiled as she stepped back.

"Thanks for inviting us, Heather. "

"Of course. I hope you feel better. Get some rest."

Jenny nodded, and Gibbs wrapped his arm around her shoulder. He knew she likely wanted to hit him, but it wouldn't help their cover story if he didn't play the part of concerned fiance. He led her through the house and as soon as they had gotten into his truck, she rounded on him.

"Are you out of your fucking mind?"

He frowned.

"What?"

"You couldn't just leave well enough alone, could you? I had everything under control until you decided to make a national emergency out of it."

"Jen..."

"No! Don't "Jen" me! You can't control my life just because we're in a relationship."

"I'm not trying to—"

"You've got a funny way of showing it!"

"I just want to help you, Jenny!"

She laughed bitterly.

"You can help me by leaving me alone."

He sighed, putting the truck in gear and as they drove away, Jenny stared angrily out the window.

When she opened her eyes the next morning, Jenny sighed as her hand brushed over Gibbs' side of the bed. The blankets were still pristine, further proof of their argument, and as she slowly changed her clothes, she wondered if perhaps she had taken it too far. Still, as she remembered the way he had acted at Tori's party, her anger returned and she made her way down to the kitchen in search of coffee. Her eyes narrowed at the sight of the nearly-empty pot and she knelt down, rummaging under the sink. If he was going to be petty about this, she could do the same.

She poured the last of the bourbon into her coffee cup, also emptying the last dregs of coffee from the pot, and as she stirred it slowly, she frowned. Downing the drink quickly, she grabbed her purse and keys, not even bothering to leave him a note as she slammed the door behind her. Two could play at this game.

Jenny hadn't been back to her house since Harrison had nearly killed her, and as she stepped through the front door, she was suddenly very afraid of what she might find. She deliberately avoided the kitchen, not ready to face it, and as she walked into her study, she sighed shakily. Her fingers closed around the full decanter of bourbon, and she quickly filled the tumbler, admiring the way it sparkled in the glass. Her eyes closed as she swallowed the burning liquid, and when she sank down behind the desk, her head fell on the wood slowly. How had things gotten so messed up?

Gibbs frowned as he walked into the bedroom, wondering where Jenny had gone. She'd been asleep when he'd looked in on her early that morning, but now she was nowhere to be found. Her purse and keys were also missing, and he wracked his brain, trying to think of where she could have decided to go. Sighing, he turned to make his way into the kitchen and when his eyes landed on the empty bottle of bourbon by the sink, he frowned.

He hadn't even known that there had been any alcohol upstairs, and his worry increased as he realised that Jenny must have hidden it there. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he quickly dialed her number, not even sure if she would answer. Just as he was about to give up, he heard a click, and her breathless voice came on the line.

"Shepard."

"Where are you?"

"Excuse me?"

"You weren't here when I came upstairs. Where'd you go?"

She sighed.

"You don't have to keep tabs on me, Gibbs. I'm fine."

He frowned at the use of his surname, but chose not to question it.

"Are you at Heather's?"

"No. Now, if you don't mind, I'm busy."

"Jenny—"

The click in his ear was final, and he sighed, running his hand through his hair. At least she was safe. Or, at least, safe enough to answer the phone. Somehow, the thought wasn't as comforting as he'd hoped it would be.

Jenny frowned as she drained the last of the bourbon in the decanter, and glanced around her study curiously. There wasn't any liquor anywhere else in the room and she sighed, standing up slowly. Perhaps she had more in the kitchen. Deciding that she would have to face the room sooner or later, she took a deep breath and prepared to enter the small space. There was no sign of the violence that had ransacked the room the last time she had been in it, and she could only assume that Gibbs had been responsible for cleaning it.

She searched through the cabinets, coming up empty-handed, and when her eyes landed on the wine glass on the shelf, she frowned. Picking it up slowly, she tried not to remember the last time she had touched a wine glass in this set, and she closed her eyes hard. Her hands shook violently, and she threw the glass on the ground, screaming as it shattered. She could feel Harrison's hand on her arm, could feel the cool of the knife at her throat, and she grabbed another glass.

The crystal flew around the room as she threw glass after glass to the ground, and when she finally stopped screaming, her voice was hoarse. Angry tears fell from her eyes and she sank to her knees, not even caring about the small pieces of glass embedded into her skin. Her breath painfully tore from her chest in harsh gasps and she began screaming again. She slammed her hand onto the ground, and tried to pretend that she didn't notice how dizzy she had become.

She didn't hear the front door opening, but when the shadow fell over her as she sobbed on the floor, she shivered.

"Jen?"

Gibbs knelt down next to her, taking her hand gently in his, and began pulling out small shards of glass.

"What's wrong?"

She shook her head, leaning into his chest, and he wrapped his arms tightly around her.

"Come on. Let's get you out of here."

He carefully lifted her out of the shattered glass and led her into the living room. Settling in next to her, he began examining her face, checking for any cuts or abrasions. When he was sure there were no severe injuries to attend to, he tilted her chin up, looking into her eyes seriously.

"Talk to me, Jen. What's wrong?"

"I...I needed to go into the kitchen. It hit me so fast, I could feel his hands on me, I could feel the knife...I just..."

She stopped, unable to stop crying, and he held her gently, kissing her hair. She was shaking so much that he wasn't sure she could breathe, and when he tried to push her back to look at her, she grabbed his shirt tightly.

"Don't. Don't let go."

He nodded, kissing her hair again, and she buried her head in his chest.

"Jethro?"

"Hm?"

Her voice was muffled by his body, and she moved closer.

"I'm sorry. About yesterday."

"It's okay. Don't worry about it."

She shook her head, her hair sticking to her damp cheek.

"I...I think I have a problem."

He said nothing, holding her as close to him as he could, and waited for her to continue.

"I thought that if...if I kept drinking, I could ignore the pain. I could pretend that it didn't bother me. That almost being killed didn't affect me. I thought...God, Jethro, I'm so sorry. I treated you like shit, and you don't deserve that."

He kissed her hair again, nodding slowly. He'd known, even if only subconsciously at first, that she'd been spiraling out of control, and he cursed himself for letting it happen. It had been right in front of his eyes, and he'd ignored the signs, choosing instead to believe even her most transparent lies, her weakest claims of being fine. He'd wanted to believe her, wanted to take her strong exterior as fact, and so he had.

He shifted slightly, staring into emerald eyes shining bright with tears, and reached out to touch her face gently. She stared straight ahead, and he frowned before he realised why she wasn't looking at him. If she moved her eyes in any way, her tears would fall, and she didn't want that to happen. He kissed her cheek and rested his chin on the top of her head.

"I thought I could handle it. I thought I could stop..."

She blinked, and a tear escaped her eye, rolling down her face. She made no move to wipe it away, and she took a deep breath.

"I can't," she gasped, her voice breaking.

Gibbs ran his thumb under her eyes gently, and she closed her eyes at the contact. He held her close, running his fingers through her hair, and she looked up at him, her eyes locking on his.

"Jethro?"

He raised his eyebrow in question, and she held his shirt with white fingers.

"Help me," she moaned, her voice low and desperate, "Please."

He nodded, kissing her softly, and stood. He pulled her up a bit harder than he meant to, not realising just how drunk she was, and she stumbled, falling against him heavily. His arm wrapped around her waist, steadying her and she moaned at the sudden movement. Her breathing hitched, and she swallowed thickly as she moved away from him, stumbling to the bathroom. She dropped to her knees, leaning her head against the porcelain, and as she retched, he swept her hair over her shoulder.

There was nothing in her stomach, save for the copious amounts of alcohol she had consumed, and when she had finally stopped heaving, she curled up on the floor. Gibbs watched her sadly, rubbing circles on her back, and as she moved her head into his lap, she moaned again. Her eyes closed, and he slowly helped her into a sitting position.

"Can you stand?"

She nodded slowly, not wanting to move too fast, and he stood, carrying her with him. She leaned into him for support, and he took a few steps. She was still too unsteady to walk, and she faltered, crashing into the sink, her hip cracking against it painfully.

"Easy, Jen."

When it became apparent that walking was futile, he carefully lifted her into his arms, holding her tightly to his chest. She moaned as he walked, and when he made his way to the door, she frowned.

"Where are we going?"

"Home," he said simply.

Too weak to truly process what he had said, Jenny merely nodded, closing her eyes against the bright light as they approached his truck. He set her down carefully in the seat and clicked the safety belt into place around her, kissing her cheek lightly. He drove slowly, not wanting to risk making her sick again, and when they pulled up in front of his house, he wasn't surprised to find that she had passed out. He carried her into the house and laid her on the couch, going into the kitchen to prepare a pot of fresh coffee. The next few days were going to be brutal, and he knew he would need a steady supply of caffeine if either of them had any hope of getting through it.

A/N: If anyone would like to read about Gibbs finding out about Jenny's self-harm back-in-the-day, let me know, and I'll post it. Just a one-shot, but if it's something you're interested in reading, I'll put it up. Hope you enjoyed! Until Saturday, have a great week, everyone!