The Prodigal Son
By RascalFlattsS
Disclaimer: Do not own NCIS.
Sorry for the delay! It has been very busy and I am behind on my stories-I know. I will try to update my White Collar and Royal Pain stories within the next week.
Please R&R!
Gibbs sat down in the basement, working on his boat with a glass of bourbon sitting next to him.
After Jimmy ran out of autopsy, Gibbs had tried to run after him, but Ducky had stopped him.
"Give him some time," Ducky had said. "He'll come around."
Gibbs wasn't as sure. But then at the moment, he wasn't sure about anything. After 22 years of searching, he had found his son, alive and well. He was completely overjoyed-feeling happiness that he'd thought he would never feel again.
Gibbs had found his son—and his son hated him. And never wanted to see him again.
It was almost like losing him all over again.
Gibbs sat up as he heard a creak upstairs. He grabbed his gun and ran up the stairs quietly. He pushed open the door silently. He walked around the living room where he turned the corner and came face-to-face with-
"Take it easy!" said Jimmy, "it's me!"
"Jimmy?" asked Gibbs. He lowered his gun. "What are you doing here?"
"Tony dropped me off," said Jimmy. "He said the door was unlocked—you weren't going to shoot me, were you?"
"Of course not," said Gibbs. He set the gun down on the end table. "You still haven't told me why you're here."
"I thought-we could-um-talk," mumbled Jimmy. He looked around. "Could we sit?"
Gibbs nodded. He walked over the kitchen and sat down. Jimmy followed. He set a vanilla folder on the table. Gibbs didn't even have to ask what it was.
"Is it true?" asked Jimmy softly.
Gibbs sighed. He looked down at his hands.
"Is it true?" demanded Jimmy.
Gibbs nodded, "It's true."
Jimmy paled, "My mother and sister; they're—"
"Dead," finished Gibbs. He looked up at Jimmy. "They died on impact."
"And I was-"
"Kidnapped," said Gibbs.
"And you—"
"Were hit by a landmine," said Gibbs. "I was in a coma for three weeks. When I woke up, the trail had gone cold."
"All this time," said Jimmy. "You've been looking for me?"
Gibbs nodded, "Of course! Jimmy, there hasn't been a day that has gone by where I haven't thought about you or looked for you. You have to believe that, Jimmy."
Jimmy nodded, "I do." He shook his head, trying to blink back tears. "I just can't believe it. All these years, you've been looking for me…and I-I hated you. I thought you had abounded me—"
"Oh Jimmy," said Gibbs.
"And I never searched for you," said Jimmy, "Or my mother. I was just so mad at both of you. I thought that you didn't care about me and I thought-" Jimmy shuddered, taking a deep breath. "You must hate me."
"Oh Jimmy," said Gibbs. He got up and gripped Jimmy's shoulders. "I don't hate you—I could never hate you. You are my son and I love you."
Jimmy nodded. He then did something that surprise Gibbs. He hugged him.
Gibbs smiled and for the first time in 22 years, Gibbs hugged his son.
Tony sat outside of Gibbs house, watching the scene that unfolded in front of him.
"Everything going well?" Ducky asked.
"If you mean have Palmer and Gibbs killed each other, no," said Tony. He smiled, "It's a regular family reunion."
"Good," said Ducky. He smiled. "Good."
"Tell me everything."
Jimmy looked over his cup of tea that Gibbs had made him. "What do you want to know?"
"Everything," said Gibbs. "I want to know everything that you have been up to that last 22 years."
"That's a long list," said Jimmy. "All right. I was found in Denver at an orphanage. After a year, I was adopted by Jonathon and Sarah Palmer. He was an accountant and she was a social worker. We lived in this little house on the outskirts of Denver; it has this great yard and my dad and I used to spend hours outside, playing catch or catching lighting bugs or whatever. He was a great guy."
Gibbs noticed the pause in Jimmy's voice. "What happened?"
"When I was nine, he died," said Jimmy, "Heart attack. My mom sold the house and we moved to an apartment in the city. It was hard-but my mom was great. She worked long hours but she still always found time to help me with my homework and everything. She even found a way to save for college. She did everything for me. She's my hero."
Gibbs smiled, "That sounds just like your mother."
"What was she liked?" asked Jimmy.
Gibbs got up and walked over to the mantel. He grabbed a photo frame and handed it to Jimmy. "Your mother was an amazing woman," said Gibbs. "She was strong and brave. She always supported me when I was away. She was caring. She loved you so much."
Jimmy nodded, "Was she diabetic?"
"Yes," said Gibbs. "Are you—"
Jimmy nodded. "I was diagnosed when I was ten. I know it is genetic and I always wondered where I got it from."
"You have her eyes," said Gibbs. "But you look like me when I was younger." He smiled, "Your mother always wanted you to be a doctor."
Jimmy smiled softly, "I always wanted to be a doctor. I never really knew why; I just knew that I wanted to be a doctor. And my senior year, when I was studying for the MCAT, Dr. Mallard was a guest speaker at my school. And the way he talked—he said that helping the dead speak again and provide answers and peace to the living was one of the greatest things you could do with your career. I remember he said, 'the dead only die if we don't give them a voice'"
"That sounds like Ducky," said Gibbs.
"He's the best," said Jimmy. "He's the reason I want to be a medical examiner and why I want to work at NCIS." Jimmy sighed, "I guess that's over now."
"What do you mean?" asked Gibbs.
"Family members aren't allowed to work together," said Jimmy. "It's in the employee handbook. I'm going to have to quit."
"No," said Gibbs. "You're not quitting."
"It's against the rules!" said Jimmy. "And you can't quit!"
"You're not quitting!" said Gibbs. He smiled. "Don't worry. I'll talk to Tom in the morning. We'll figure something out. It's late. Try to get some sleep."
A little cliff hanger. Nothing too bad.
Please R&R!