Here's where the M rating comes in
Gibbs hadn't gone off on a wild goose chase. Sure he'd been willing to, but did he really know Victoria Crane? No. So he spent the entire rest of the day doing research. Everything NCIS could get on Victoria Crane, and her past. He was curious, because she'd gone from strong, powerful, to reduced to a fearful… well child. What had brought her down that far? He stayed long into the night, reading and re-reading, at least the public files.
She'd been born in New Jersey, but her family had moved to Arizona when she was one. That was all on the official documents. Then her parents divorced, her mother moved in with someone else, that someone else was abusive. This TJ. From there he could see many other instances of problems up until she was fifteen. Her mother disappeared when she was ten, so that was five years with this person. The police came many times in the eight years from the age of two to ten. Then it went quiet, until at fifteen the young Victoria left her home heading for help. From there it was legal things and she seemed to ride on top of the storm, but obviously damage had been done.
Then at seventeen she went to college. Rising star. Air Force ROTC, in the top ten present of her class, made it easily. Second Lieutenant right out of college, and she was quick to rise in the ranks. She served in many places, of which he didn't have a security clearance for, and then landed a spot in the pentagon, leading a crime unit. He wondered if she'd chosen it or was put there. So he was wondering exactly why she'd panicked. That was what had happened. She'd run off. Why'd she run? She didn't seem like a runner. She stood and fought. So what about this Trevor had brought her to run?
He did another search. This was useful. Here was the psych eval for the man. Dangerous, mentally deranged. Control freak. She had scars. She'd proven she could be her own woman, and yet there were still claws. Deep claws. But how did this tie in? It didn't make sence. He hit the print button on both of them, and waited.
As soon as what he needed was printed he grabbed it and went for his car. It was dark out. Close to midnight. He checked the address and stepped into the elevator. Everyone had gone home a long time ago. He found his truck and got in it.
When he arrived he saw lights on in her house. It had been easy to get to her house. It was off base, and quite nice actually. Large, but then again she had a big family. He stopped the truck outside her house. There was a large truck sitting in the drive way. It was obviously her's. There was wisps of something in the bed of the truck, but he was just looking the house over. It was a solid white with light blue trim. No plants, but there was a lawn. Spotty grass, as if she didn't spend a whole lot of time there. He saw her flick open the certain. Or at least he thought he did. He figured she was good enough to see what she needed rather quickly. He got out of the truck, with the papers and headed for the door. He knocked, and waited, wondering if this was such a good idea.
That was compounded a moment later by the door opening and a pistol aimed as his heart. He raised his hands. "I'm not gonna hurt cha." He said calmly, keeping an eye on the gun.
"Why are you here?" she asked lowering the gun, flipping the safty on and putting the gun down. She was in sweats and an overly baggy shirt. She waited for him to answer.
"I want to help." He said calmly.
She eyed him, and looked at the file he had in his hand. "You dug." She snarled, the anger flaring. He was seeing her in half light, but he could see her hair was covering most of her face. She'd been crying though. "Why should I let you?" she asked.
"Because a little girl walked out of a house, and years later she's still trying to escape the reason she walked out." He said softly, his eyes catching hers and holding them. She stopped for a second. He heard the breath catch and he stepped forward into her house. She stepped back the gun forgotten as she took another step back. He'd stunned her. "I want to help. You can do this on your own, and what I understand is that he'll continue to do this." He said softly.
"And he won't stop. Not that he'll need to. I know he's coming and I panic. Some Air Force officer I am." She muttered turning around. She slipped to the left coming to a large living room with a view to the back yard. Here was where her care was placed. The back yard was lit with beautiful lights, there was a lit pool, with murals all around, horses on the right, dragons on the left and in the very middle was a mural of two jets. An F-22 and an FA-18. Both were beautiful, one was air force one was marine, but both had beautiful lines. They were lit up.
He looked at where she'd gone, now that he was done looking. She was curled up on a well used couch her arms around a very old gray cat. The cat looked spry though, as if he'd get up and run around. The woman looked worse off than he thought. Her hair was a mess, and the clothing was old. She was camped on the couch. Blanket, guns, food, water, cat, tv. Oh and computer. "That looks healthy." He said pointing to the poptart that was sitting next to her.
"I don't think you have the right to tell me whats healthy or not. Now how do you think you can help? I already know NCIS is out of it. Riley can only do so much. It's not like he'd kill me." She said softly. "In all tecnicallities I'm taller, younger, stronger, so I should be fine."
"But you don't feel that way." Gibbs sat down next to her. She looked at him.
"No. I don't." she said softly, her dark eyes were in pain behind the glasses. "I'm scared and I don't know why I'm telling you this!" She put the cat down and got up. The cat looked at him, licked himself and waited. He watched the two of them with golden eyes. Gibbs looked at the cat, and sighed putting the file down on a table and moved to stand next to her. He saw where her gaze was. The F-22, the jet she piloted.
"Fast, sleak, above it all. When I'm up there the world falls away and it's just me, her, and the infinite sky." She said softly. "First time I went up in one of them I didn't want to come down. The speed, beauty, never ending change. I forgot pain, suffering, sadness, happiness, joy, desire. Everything was better. I didn't have to feel. Just for that time, even in a dogfight, on a mission, I was cool. Collected. Everything was in perspective. Touching down on the tarmac? Not that bad. Even getting out of her wasn't bad either. It was later, after the adrenalin was gone, sometimes day's later, that I'd figure out why I'd gone up. The question would be answered. I can't do that today." Her dark eyes were distant.
He felt impulsive as he pulled her into a hug. She sucked in a breath then relaxed a little. He didn't speak as he guided her back to the couch. He sat down with her as she just seemed to … well disassociate. She was lost in memory. He touched her lightly again. She jerked out of it. "Sorry. Sorry. It's a coping method. Only happens when I…" Gibbs continued to watch her. She'd been warm in his arms when he'd hugged her. He touched her hair lightly. She turned her head only a little to look at him. "Why are you hear Leroy Jethro Gibbs?" she asked softly. He didn't answer, just watching her now. "Man of few words. The assessments on you were right." She started to get up when a hand grabbed her arm, She turned a bit to look at him, eyebrows arched. He querked his lips slightly.
"To help." He said softly as she sat back down. She leaned forward brushing her lips against his. She leaned back, just a little to see his response. The quirked lips were now smiling at her. She liked that smile. He pulled her closer kissing her lightly. She kissed back harder. He was offering something and she was going to take him up on it. But not right now.
"No. Not now. Not like this. I won't." she pulled back. She could see the confusion I his eyes. "I can't. It's wrong… After maybe. I have to face this first… Please understand." She looked down, fear making her shake. He touched her shoulder.
"I do." He stood up, leaving the folder. "My number's in there if you need help."