A/N - thanks for the reviews. Part 2 is short as well - which is why you are getting a rapid update. Thanks to the person who helped me get the ending right!
The Same Mistake – part 2
"You're dead," he told her, more to remind himself of the fact.
"But she isn't."
It had been a damn close thing.
He had spent long hours in a too hot room, drinking appalling coffee, before the news had arrived that though her heart had stopped briefly on the table, the Director of NCIS had survived surgery and was in critical, but stable condition.
He was relieved, of course. For all their disagreements, all the complexities and contradictions of their professional relationship, the moment when he thought that she might be dead had been horrifying. But then the relief had drained away; leaving behind complicated feelings that he'd had no choice but to run away from. The investigation into the shooting had given him an excuse, but it had been concluded weeks ago - and he hadn't stopped running.
His team treated him as though he were made of glass, Hollis had told him he needed to, 'work things out.' The only one to call him on his failings had been Ducky – and Kate's ghost.
At night his sleep brought him truths he wasn't prepared to face in daylight hours. When he woke, the realisation that Jen had beated the odds and was still alive hit him like a ton of bricks – goading him to take action. But he resisted; day after day, going through the motions, not thinking too much. Keeping his distance.
He'd barely spoken to her, had visited the hospital only when he was sure she was unconscious or asleep. Now she was recovering at home and he was still using every conceivable excuse to stay away from her.
She'd made no attempt to contact him, unless you counted leaving notes on the files he was required to sign off, giving him advice on the decisions she would have made. Ducky said that she'd asked about him; Gibbs suspected his old friend had tried his best to explain his absence, though he wasn't sure how good an attempt he'd made of it. Jen knew him far too well to be convinced by excuses and in their conversations over the last few weeks the good Doctor had made it clear that he didn't understand why Gibbs had seemingly abandoned his former partner when she needed him most.
Jen must be wondering the same thing. Or maybe she wasn't surprised; maybe she had no illusions about what he could and couldn't offer.
He was the one with the illusions - night after night he came face to face with them. Their legacy the tattered emotions that were making it difficult for him to concentrate. He had no idea how to stop the dream, except perhaps to give in and confront this particular demon. But he didn't believe they had any more chance of surviving together now than they'd had 8 years previously. They were the same people, who'd make the same mistakes. And he didn't think he could live through that particular failure again.
Perhaps, he had finally reached the point when a resolution, however messy, was preferable to the insomnia and this crushing burden of regret. He'd reached for the phone and dialled her number almost without realising what he'd done, certainly without preparing himself for the prospect of actually speaking to her.
"Sheppard," her voice was soft, tired. He hadn't even checked what time it was – he'd probably woken her. He hesitated, his finger hovering over the button that would end the call. "Jethro?"
"Don't tell me, you recognised the heavy breathing?" He asked, his heart not really in their banter.
"It's known as caller id," she replied, "a lot of people have it these days," and then, after a beat, "is everything all right?" He knew better than to attempt to answer that.
"Did I wake you?"
"I'm not sleeping very well." Rumour had it she was driving the Doctor's crazy, pushing too hard – desperate to be cleared to return to work. He knew her well enough to recognise that enforced inactivity was probably her worst nightmare – unless she was dreaming about the shooting as well.
"Neither am I," he wasn't sure why he'd confessed that, maybe to let her know she wasn't the only one living with the after-effects.
"Jethro…" He recognised the unspoken request for what it was. And he owed her. For not being there when she woke up in a hospital bed, for being a lousy friend these last few weeks. For not preventing her from being injured on his watch.
"Give me half an hour."
TBC