Chapter Four: Decisions, Decisions
We sat in the hospital waiting room for two hours straight. A tense silence had settled over the group and it was getting old fast. "Okay," I announced, standing up, "It's 11:00PM so I'm buying coffee, anyone want some?" Everyone looked up at me with tired eyes." Well, everyone except for Gibbs, but, I mean, come on, he's Gibbs. Tony stood up, "I'll help you," he said, following me out of the waiting area. We walked in a comfortable silence, neither one of us really in the mood for conversation.
Five minute later, we arrived at the hospital's café. We walked up to the counter to place our order. "Hi," said Tony, "can we get one large black coffee, a medium hazelnut coffee, a medium cinnamon coffee, a medium mocha latte, a medium earl grey tea, a large caff-pow, and…" He trailed off, allowing me to order something to drink. "And a large French Vanilla coffee," I concluded, fishing my black diamond master card outside of my pocket. Tony gave me a look, saying that he would get the bill. I shook my head, "My treat," I told him. Five minutes later we found ourselves walking back to the waiting room, drinks in hand.
"Cinnamon, for Ziva," said Tony, handing Ziva her drink. "Tea for Ducky, Hazelnut for Probie, Caff-pow for Abby, Mocha for me, and… where's Gibbs?" I looked down the hallway to see his familiar head of grey hair following after a man in a white lab coat. "I got it," I told Tony, taking the coffee and following after Gibbs. I called out his name and he turned around, searching the narrow hallway for the perpetrator. I raised his coffee in the air above my 5'10" stature. He saw me and gave me a signal to follow him. I finally caught up to him as they got in an elevator and handed Gibbs his said, "this is Madison Redmond." The doctor went through a brief phase of confusion before reaching out to shake my hand. "Congratulations, Madison," said Doctor Marx, "you're a hero." Then it was my turn to look confused. "When you extracted the first two bullets and attended to the Director's wounds, you cut off the window for more blood loss. If she had bled out for much longer she would have died," he elaborated, "you saved her life." I stared at him in disbelief. I mean, yeah, I knew that she had lost a lot of blood, but I didn't think that it would be enough to prove to be nearly fatal. I had saved a life, the thought brought me a sense of pride.
We stepped out of the elevator on the eighth floor and walked to room 812. Director Sheppard was sitting upright in her bed, her left arm was casted up to her shoulder and some other places were dressed with gauze. "Director Sheppard," she Doctor Marx, "this is Madison Redmond; she executed the proper medical procedures necessary to save your life pre-admittance to the hospital." The Director sat there, a blank expression on her face, soaking in everything that she had just been told. "You're Ducky's niece?" she asked, her blank expression changing to one of acknowledgement. "Come here, Madison," she said, beckoning me to her side. I walked to her side, setting my half-empty coffee down on the side table and sitting down in the chair next to her bed. "Gentlemen, if you please," she said to Gibbs and Doctor Marx, who were waiting patiently next to the door. Gibbs took the hint and ushered Doctor Marx out of the room, shutting the door behind them.
"I wanted to thank you personally for what you did back there," said the Director, "I owe you my life." I opened my mouth but she put a hand up, cutting me off. "And to show you my gratitude for your brave act of heroism, I have an offer for you." I looked at her expectantly, wonder just what in the world her offer could be. "How would you like to start training to become a full time member of NCIS?" I stared at her, my mind went blank. "I beg your pardon, Director," I said, "but are you seriously offering me a job at NCIS?" She nodded her head and smiled at me. "Yes, Madison, I've read up on your files and realized that you would make a perfect addition to Gibbs' team. All you would have to do is complete the fifteen week basic training course." I looked at her, still in shock, this is too good to be true, I thought. I left out a sigh, "Director Sheppard," I started, "I appreciate the job offer, I really do. But \, you've just gone through a very traumatizing series of events. If you would still like me to join NCIS as a full member of the team after you are discharged from the hospital, I would love to take you up on the offer. But, for now, you should focus all of your energy on getting better so you don't get behind on your work." I smiled at her, picked up my coffee, and left the room, allowing the doctor to enter behind me.
The halls of the hospital were dark and empty as I glided through them at midnight after seeing the director. My expression remained emotionless as I made my way towards the elevator. Once it arrived, I sat down in the corner of the small metallic box, thinking over my decision. If I do end up taking the job offer, I thought, I would ultimately end up having to spill my secret to the rest of the team. I mean, NCIS is all I've ever wanted, but is it too risky to chance? Frustrated, I leaned my head back against the cool metal wall, closed my eyes, and became one with the silence around me. Moments later, I heard the door of the elevator slide open. Someone walked in, sat beside me on the floor, and put a strong arm around my shoulder so that I was leaning more on him than the wall. "Hi, Gibbs," I said, recognizing his scent. He chuckled as I opened my eyes to see his smiling face. "I came to say thank you for saving Jenny," he said. "Don't thank me," I told him, brushing off the statement, "I was just being a Good Samaritan." "Well, you've earned my trust," he smiled down at me, kissing the top of my head. My eyes widened as a wave of guilt washed through me. I might have to make that decision sooner rather than later, I thought. We stood up and walked out as the doors slid open on the ground floor.
"Ah, Madison, Jethro, there you are," said Uncle Ducky, as we walked into the waiting room. "Hey, Duck," said Gibbs, "mind if I borrow Madison for a little bit?" "Well, Jethro, it's completely up to her, she's nineteen you know," replied Uncle Ducky, looking to me for a response. "I'll be back later, Uncle Ducky," I said, following Gibbs outside. "So, where are we going?" I asked, following him over to my bike. He got on, tossing my helmet to me. "What, exactly, do you think you're doing?" I asked incredulously. "What?" he asked, putting on the other helmet. "My bike, I'm driving. He slid back, leaving me enough room for me to slide on in front of him. I mounted the bike and started the engine. "So where are we going?" I repeated my earlier question. "My house," he simply stated. I turned around to face him, pulling my visor up. "Which is where?" I hissed, getting annoyed with his little game. He smirked, "Just drive." I turned back around, mumbling "hold on, marine," before I gunned the gas, flying out of the parking lot and down the darkened street.
I followed the directions that he gave me, and found myself parked in the driveway in front of his house. We took off our helmets and dismounted my bike, walked up to the front door and went inside. I watched as Gibbs retreated upstairs, calling back to me over his shoulder. "Food's in the fridge, help yourself." I walked through the house and into the kitchen. Opening the refrigerator, I found eight or so boxes of Chinese food, a pizza box, and around fifteen bottles of beer. I was just about to help myself to a slice of pizza when Gibbs tossed a bundle of clothing into my open hands. Grabbing a beer and slice of pizza out of the fridge, he spoke. "Bathroom's down the hall to your left come into the basement when you're done getting changed." I nodded my head, walking to the bathroom and shutting the door behind me. Unraveling the bundle of clothes that had been thrown at me, I found long black sweat pants and a grey Navy t-shirt. Throwing my bloodied clothing into the waste bin, I walked back into the kitchen and settled on a box of shrimp lo mein before walking down the stairs and into the basement.
Upon my arrival in the basement I found out three distinct pieces of information about Gibbs.
1.) He listens to soft oldies music
2.) He drinks Bourbon
3.) He was currently building a boat
I stopped there, at the bottom of the stairs, just taking in the whole project. Yep, I thought, that is definitely a boat. Then I noticed Gibbs, sitting by an empty space on his workbench. He patted the empty spot, signaling for me to come and take a seat. I walked over and sat down, then started on my lo mein. "You made a tough decision today," Gibbs commented, breaking the silence that was starting to fill the room. My eyes grew wide as I nearly choked on my food. "Who told you?" I asked, putting the to-go box at my side. "You did, just now," he smirked, "I had a gut feeling, and you just confirmed it." "She offered me a job," I informed him, resuming my dinner. He look expectantly at me, "And?" "And," I continued, "I told her that if she still wants me to work for NCIS as an official agent after she's out of the hospital, than I would take it into consideration. But I couldn't say yes to her in the state she was in, she could have been undergoing post traumatic stress and been making rash decisions." "Well, I'm proud of you," he said, taking a bite out of his pizza. I put my food down again as another wave of guilt washed over me.
"Gibbs?" I said, folding my hands across my lap, "I… there's something I need to tell you." He put down his pizza and sat back on his stool, give me his full attention. I looked at him skeptically for a moment, still slightly unsure of whether or not I should tell him my secret. "Will you keep my secret?" I asked him, my violet eyes begged for his cooperation. "I can do that," he joked. "This is serious!" I yelled at him, "I've never told anyone this, not even my own parents, and you're treating this as if it were a joke!" I threw my hands up in frustration and got up off of the workbench. I was just about to leave when I felt his hand on my shoulder. "Madison," he said, "you have my word, as a former marine. This stays between you and me." I looked him in the eye, searching for any sign of dishonesty. Finding none, I let out a sigh and sat back up on the workbench.
"About three years ago I went camping with my boy – ex-boyfriend over spring break," I started, my eyes glossing over in memory. "Jonathan had invited me to go stargazing with him the weekend before he was due to go out to sea. He was planning on being a part of the Queen's Royal Navy Corps, he was only nineteen. While we were camping, we were attacked by a feral animal, a massive red fox." I paused, wiping at the tears that were beginning to form at the edges of my eyes. "Long story short, Jonathan dies trying to protect me from that monstrous creature and I got out of it with barely anything really." I pulled up the hem of the t-shirt to reveal a three pronged scar that extended from the base of my ribcage on the right side of my back and ended somewhere around the front right side of my pelvic bone. The scar was a deep purple color and about three inches by fifteen inches in length. "I was sent to the hospital for stitches, one hundred thirty five, to be exact. I stayed overnight at the hospital for three days, making sure the stitches were working right and all. When I finally came home, I noticed small changes that I my body began to undergo; I began to show faint animalistic traits. I conducted a few minor blood tests and noticed large almost unrecognizable traces of an infection-born mutation. I monitored myself for a few days following and discovered that I had developed new abilities. Gibbs, you are the only other person that I have ever told this to. My mutation is the reason that I could tell the scent of the chemical that was used in the serial killing. My nose is a million times stronger than that of a human. I have claws, incisors that secrete poison, infinite speed and stamina. I'm like every animal on this planet wrapped up into one body."
I looked to Gibbs for his reaction, but all he did was stare. "Don't just stare at me like I'm some sort of freak, say something," I pleaded. He snapped out of his trance and placed a reassuring hand on my shoulder. "I cannot wait to have you on my team," he said, pulling me into a hug. I smiled and hugged him back, looking over his shoulder to the clock hanging on the wall. "I better get home," I said, as we released each other and started up the stairs, "don't want to keep Uncle Ducky waiting for too long." Gibbs nodded, escorting me out the front door and over to my bike. "Have a nice weekend, Madison," he called after me as I drove off down the dark street.
I got home around 1:30AM and walked in to Uncle Ducky dozing in his armchair, a paperback copy of U is for Undertow by Sue Grafton sat opened on his lap. Marking the page in his book, I silently set it down and grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch. I kissed his forehead as I covered him up with the soft wool blanket, "goodnight, Uncle Ducky." I smiled at his peaceful form as I walked away to lock the front door and head upstairs to my room. Once in my room, I grabbed a towel, clean pajama shirt, and undergarments, before walking into my bathroom, ready to wash away the blood and grime of the day's activities. I disrobed and stepped into the hot shower , enjoying the steamy scent of warm French vanilla as I washed my hair and skin.
I emerged from the bathroom fifteen minutes later, at 2:00AM. My long blond hair was pulled back into a French braid, dampening my Green Day night shirt. I quickly finished unpacking, using my cheetah-like speed and was done and asleep before three.