a/n:
Damselfly: Chapter XI
Gibbs drove Shelby home with him, and as the younger man looked at his old home, he took big gulps of breath that he knew he would need before he stepped inside.
Gibbs led the way.
The last time that Shelby had been in this house, he was thirteen. And his last memories where the worst. He mind and body flooded with recognition, the place was completely different. It was as if all traces of the three of them was completely erased; him, Kelly and mom. This place was so bare, so emotionally blocked that this was a stranger's home now.
No, that was wrong. This was not a home, not anymore. This was just a house, and that was it.
Shelby looked at his father, trying to gauge his reaction of walking into an empty house, and got a barbed sigh.
"Get yourself situated," Gibbs said, taking off his jacket and shoes by the door.
"I think I'm going to have a shower," Shelby told him. "I haven't had a proper one in days."
Gibbs nodded; he did look a little grubby and needed a shave. "Come downstairs when your finished, I'll have something for you to eat."
Shelby nodded and gave his father a small smile as he climbed jerkily up the stairs. Carrying a duffle bag that Jackson had packed for him before he left. The first room that he passed was his parents'-or what used to be his parents'. Though the door was open, it barely looked lived in. It was bare and the blanket that covered the bed looked stiff and unused.
Shelby sighed sadly at the sight.
To get to his old room, he had to pass Kelly's. It had been so long since he had connected with his little sister, and held his breath as he opened her bedroom door. Stuffy, stale air filled his lungs, and the sight that he saw caused his heart to be struck. It was barren, deadened of anything that was Kelly except for the pink and purple walls, and the stars that danced upon the ceiling.
Maybe she was there.
He closed her door and went to his, his hand pausing on the door knob. He wondered what he would find. Would it be empty like Kelly's? Or preserved from when he had left it at thirteen? He prepared himself.
Shelby twisted the knob and opened the door, the staleness that hit him wasn't as empowering as Kelly's room. And as he flicked the light switch, he saw that, unlike Kelly's, his was a like a frozen memento of his thirteen-year-old self. He noted that the room had been cleaned recently, and the sheets on his bed changed.
He stepped into what seemed like a pocket of frozen time, and closed the door behind him. Trying not to let the memories push his down. The desk where he did his homework, or the shelf above his bed that had books and texts about the subject that he knew he wanted to do when he grew older from the age of ten. He didn't dwell on it though, he couldn't change things of the past.
Shelby grunted as he put his full duffle on his bed, and then gathered a change of clothes and his toiletries. He closed and locked the bathroom door at the end of the hall and set his things on the toilet lid.
He glanced at himself in the mirror and he had to say that he hadn't looked this grim in awhile.
He had three days worth of stubble. His skin was red and blotchy from the off-hand burns. But he was healing. All his cuts had scabbed up nicely. He no longer needed a sling for his shoulder, though he wasn't allowed to lift heavy things and strain the muscles. His ruptured ear was healing nicely as well. The stitches in his shin and eye would be removed mid next week, so for now they still needed to be covered. Shelby's eye was no longer wrapped up, but instead there was a bandage-like eye-patch that had tiny breathing holes and protected his wounded eye.
It was going to be hard to get used to, having a big blind spot. He took it off, he didn't want to get it wet in the shower. His eye was no longer completely shut, still, he couldn't make anything solid out.
Shelby looked at himself, his eye flicking across his reflection in the mirror. He didn't look like himself, but he didn't put to much pressure on himself. He'd almost been blown away by his Commanding Officer, by his Mentor. He was allowed to be out of it for a little while. And with the pressure of his father...
Shelby shook his head. One step at a time. He'd come up here for a reason.
He stripped off his clothes and turned the knobs of the shower. The showerhead sputtered for a second before a clear, solid stream of water sprayed out. He let it heat up before he stepped into the spray.
It felt good against his assaulted skin and bruised shoulder. He washed his hair, and as he lathered the soap, it slipped from his wet palms. He looked down but could not see it. As he twisted around, his foot came out from under him.
Gibbs heard the thump all the way in the kitchen. His head turned in the direction. "Shelby?" he called, and waited but got no answer. He threw the plastic spoon in his hand on the counter and left the soup on the stove as he ran up the stairs. "Shelby!" he banged on the door when he found it to be locked.
Shelby groaned in pain and confusion, blinking water splatter out of his eyes. He wasn't sure what hurt the most: the back of his head, his tailbone, or the already injured shoulder that he might as well have body-slammed off the edge of the tub. He could hear his dad yelling and banging on the door, and Shelby knew that his father must've heard him fall.
Shelby groaned again as he took a deep breath. "I'm fine." he called out to his father.
The pounding stopped.
"Shelby?"
"Yeah, dad. I'm fine," he called. "I just slipped!" he palmed his injured shoulder.
"Are you okay?" Gibbs questioned, worried about his son's already injured condition and whether or not he aggravated anything.
"Yes." Shelby grunted as he rolled over and pushed himself up to his hand and knees, the showerhead's spray now pounding his back.
"I'm coming in." Gibbs called.
"Dad. You can't, the door-" Shelby started, but his father had already put his shoulder to it. "Dad!"
Gibbs ignored it and grabbed a towel from the rack, before he went to the tub and pulled the shower curtain open. He found his son on his hands and knees, and noticed that he was only holding himself up with one arm.
"Dad! What are you doing?" he asked in surprise.
Gibbs reached in and turned off the water, and put the towel around Shelby's naked waist. Before he reached for his son.
"Dad-" Shelby started to protest; he was a grown man for heaven sake!
"Shut up." Gibbs told him plain and simple, and the younger man did.
Gibbs helped him from the shower and set him on the toilet, Shelby couldn't even get a word in as his father patted him dry.
"Did you hurt anything?" Gibbs demanded, kneeling in front of him.
Shelby sighed. "My shoulder." he finally gave in to this man that looked like his father, but hadn't acted like it for fifteen years. "I hit it off the side when I went down."
Gibbs nodded and stood, and started an examination of his son's already injured shoulder. It was tender to the touch and at every probe, Gibbs could see the silent flinch that crossed Shelby's face. And with a glance at his back, Gibbs saw that there was already a bruise blooming on his son's back. "
"Is that all?" he asked.
Shelby thought about it. "Yes," he said finally.
The look that Gibbs gave him, said that he didn't believe him. "I'll get some ice." he told him. "Can you get dressed by yourself?"
"Dad, I'm not an invalid!" Shelby snapped.
Gibbs raised his brows but said nothing. "You're going to have to wear the sling again." he left for downstairs, noting that he was going to have fix the door in the morning if they every wanted it to shut again. "Come downstairs when you're done."
Shelby sighed again; he'd finally gotten rid of something only to have to wear it again. He shook his head and stood from the toilet, he slipped on a clean pair of underwear, and a pair of track pants. He left his chest bare. He cleared the mirror of the fog, and with a fumbling left hand, shaved. Only cutting himself half a dozen times, before he was finally finished. He rolled his pant leg up to let the cut on his shin breath, and put his eye-patch back on.
His shoulder throbbing, he went downstairs.
"Sit." Gibbs told him.
Shelby furrowed his brows and sat at the kitchen table.
Gibbs put a tea-towel over Shelby's shoulder before he placed a cracked ice-pack over it. Shelby gritted his teeth as he felt the cold, but then started to relax as the cold started to take affect. He looked up as a bowl was set in front of him, and Gibbs sat next to him at the side of the table.
This was going to be a new start for them, a new beginning.
"Thank you." Shelby said softly, and he meant it.
Gibbs nodded.
With his son now in the house, Gibbs was finally dealt with the cold blow that this place was just so empty as he worked on his boat alone in the dark basement, remembering the days when the kids would come down and 'help'.
Laying on the couch, he laid wide-awake, staring at the ceiling. It was like he could hear every movement, breath and heartbeat that his son made through it. He had felt fear in his gut when he heard that thump in the bathroom and Shelby hadn't answered right away. The same fear that he had always felt in his gut when he went away on deployments and wasn't sure whether or not he'd be coming back to his family.
Shelby was going to stay here, whether his son wanted to or not, and even if he had to fight his father.
chapter XI end-
just one more chapter to go!