Disclaimer: I only own Rosie!
A.N.: Thank you to alix33, MatteaAM, babyred1995, Mrs. Elizabeth Gibbs, black widow mistress, MissOrlane, Twilight Trekky and MissJayne for reviewing!
Jethro got out of his car and locked the door, pocketing his car keys and looking up at Jenny's house. The lights were off upstairs and most of the ground floor seemed to be dark as well, the only source of illumination was coming from down the hall, which he knew was the study. She was expecting him so he hadn't called ahead, and truthfully he hadn't wanted her to know when he would appear. She would go about her normal routine if she didn't know when he was coming and then he could find out just how much drinking she did and when, only making his presence known when he could get her to look at her actions as she did them.
He headed up the drive to Jenny's front door and knocked loudly, expecting the door to be answered almost immediately; she was just down the hall after all and Noemi was usually still in. He stood outside waiting for two whole minutes, showing his good intention to not just barge in, however there was no sign of movement from within, so he pulled out his picks and worked the lock. The door swung inwards mere moments later and Jethro entered Jenny's home.
The first thing he heard was the tinkle of glass on glass and he closed his eyes in irritation. Either she had purchased a glass chess set, or she was drinking, and given that he had never seen any chess sets in Jenny's house, glass or otherwise, he was inclined to believe the latter. He walked quietly up the hall to the study and stopped in the doorway, leaning back on the doorframe to study exactly what he up against.
Jenny stood at her drinking cabinet, her right side to him and she stared ahead into the mirrored cabinet. At first Jethro thought she was staring at her reflection, but then he realised she wasn't focussing on it, she was looking through it. She swayed slightly on her feet, not a lot; just enough to show that she had drunk more than one glass.
Shaking his head at her he pushed off of the doorframe and walked closer to her, noticing that she hadn't yet realised he was there. What would happen when she did? Would she pretend she had only had one glass? Would she just get angry and tell him to leave? Or would she keep up the openness they had shared earlier today? Well, there was only one way to find out.
"What are you doing, Jen?" he asked her pointedly, and she spun around to face him. Too late he realised that she was much more unsteady on her feet than he had originally thought, and she lost her balance. He started towards her, trying to catch her before she hit the ground but her alcohol relaxed body was a dead weight. He grabbed her mid fall, but his shoulder pulled painfully as the tendons tightened and then protested, the scar tissue from the bullet Ari had put in him not allowing him the full measure of his strength. He went down with her, managing to keep her head away from the desk, but it still hit the ground hard as they landed.
Gibbs grimaced at the discomfort from his shoulder and hip where he had impacted the ground and gingerly sat up; pulling his arm out from under Jenny, about to tell her off for drinking so much, and then he looked at her. She was unconscious and a small pool of blood was beginning to form under her head. Jethro cursed and quickly looked around, hoping to god that Emily wouldn't come down the stairs right now. What would the little girl think if she saw him standing over Jenny's bloody form after what had happened to her mother? He checked to make sure she was breathing, which she was, and then he cursed again and then pulled out his cell phone, dialling Ducky as fast as he could.
"Hey Duck; I need you to come to Jenny's as soon as you can. She fell and hit her head on the floor, its bleeding quite a lot and she's unconscious." He reported the moment the line connected. There was silence for a few seconds and then he heard Ducky sigh.
"I'll be right over Jethro, stem the bleeding but try not to move her until I get there." He told him, his voice calm in the hopes Jethro would stay that way too. The last thing Jenny needed was for him to panic.
"Thanks Duck." He said and then he put his phone away and kneeled down beside Jenny. The head wound was bleeding quite heavily but he wasn't too worried about that, he knew that head wounds generally bleed a lot and consequently look worse than they were. Ducky would sort that out when he got here. No the thing that was worrying Jethro was that she was still unconscious, and he didn't know if she had a concussion yet, though the loud thud her head had made on the floor said it was a very big probability.
He got up and walked briskly to the kitchen where he grabbed a few towels and then strode back to Jenny's side. He knelt by her side and gently rolled her head a little so he could press one of the towels to her wound and then glanced over to the drinks cabinet to see how much she had drunk. He was shocked to see she had nearly had half a bottle, and Bourbon wasn't soft stuff. Sighing, he gently ran his fingers through her short hair, hoping that she would wake up if he touched her, but she didn't. He took the chance to really look at her; she looked tired, like she was in serious need of a good night's sleep, but other than that, she was still as beautiful now as when he had first laid eyes on her.
This obsession with catching La Grenouille was taking its toll on her, but the fact it had gone on for over a decade showed just how strong she was. If he'd had to wait ten years to kill that Mexican drug lord he would have gone crazy, he was sure of it. He didn't know how, but she had managed to keep it together and not only have a child and be a great mom (with an unfortunate and unavoidable end), but she had also climbed the ladder of success right to the top of NCIS. She wasn't alone anymore though, and this burden of revenge was no longer solely hers to bear. He was here for her and together they would destroy this man that had escaped justice for far too long.
Ten minutes later Ducky opened the front door and walked straight into the study, medical bag in hand. Jethro looked up from Jenny, keeping hold of the towel he had pressed to her head, even though he was pretty sure the bleeding had stopped a while ago. It was an excuse to touch her though, and he was taking full advantage of it. Ducky got to his knees and checked her pupil reaction, a faint frown marring his features.
"Was she like this when you got here?" he asked, his voice quiet in case they attracted the attention of Jenny's young house guest. Jethro looked up at Ducky and shook his head.
"No, she was drinking. I startled her and she fell trying to look at me." He admitted, a little embarrassed and angry with himself for causing her to hurt herself. He didn't have to sneak up on people all the time, but he really had thought she was more stable on her feet than she had been. Her falling hadn't even crossed his mind.
"Ah, well now there is no refuting her problem, she will have to face it." Ducky said with a strange mix of sadness, satisfaction and a touch of finality. "Can you pull the towel away please Jethro? Slowly." He instructed and they watched as Jethro slowly pulled the towel away from her head to see if the bleeding had stopped, or if the clot had attached to the material. They breathed a sigh of relief when the towel came away without the clot and the bleeding remained stopped.
"Jethro, can you please lift her as gently as you can? We will need to wait for her to wake up before I can give her the all clear, and that would be best if she were comfortable so she can identify any aches and pains better, but there appears to be no need to go to the hospital." He said quite cheerfully and Jethro looked at her prone form and then at the chairs in the study. While comfortable, she wouldn't be able to lay on them.
"Right, how far am I taking her?" he asked, wondering what the elderly ME had in mind.
"Bed, Jethro, you are taking her to bed." Ducky replied, a small smile on his face until he heard what he himself had just said and he grimaced.
"Well why didn't you say so Duck?" Gibbs said cheekily, a grin on his face at Ducky's sheepish expression and he started down the corridor towards the stairs, barely making out Ducky's mumbled words of consternation. He carried her quickly up the stairs, his shoulder protesting slightly all the way, with Ducky following, watching for Emily. Jethro carried her into her bedroom and placed her on the bed on top of the covers. She didn't even stir while she was being moved, and despite Ducky's diagnosis he found himself worrying about her.
"Do you think she'll have a concussion?" he asked Ducky quietly, turning to look at his friend, who slowly nodded back.
"Almost definitely a minor one, which reminds me, we should probably have a bucket to hand for when she awakens. She'll more than likely be nauseous." He cautioned and Gibbs looked around, spotting the little bedroom bin that she had in here. He picked it up and looked inside; glad to see it was empty. At least he didn't have to take out her trash too.
"Got a bin." He said, holding it up so Ducky could see it.
"Good enough. Is Emily in?" Ducky asked, looking hesitantly down the hall, wondering just how she was faring, since he was sure the noises of the past few minutes had been quite loud. She may have overheard them and been too scared to come and look for Jenny.
"Not seen her, I assume Jenny put her to bed, don't want to creep into her room and risk waking her." Jethro said softly, also aware that Emily hadn't come looking for Jenny at all, though the last time a might visitor had appeared to her he had killed her mother and kidnapped her, so it was feasible she was hiding, but he didn't want to scare her further by sneaking into her room.
"Good point Jethro." Ducky praised, and then their attention was drawn to the bed as Jenny made a small noise of discomfort. "I think she's coming round, is your bin ready?" Ducky asked quickly, and Jethro held it up for him to see yet again.
"Yup." He said and then held it closer to Jenny's head, hoping that if she did throw up, she wouldn't miss. Jenny groaned again and then her body seemed to freeze for a moment. Then they all seemed to move simultaneously as Jenny arched up and to her side, away from Gibbs, so held the bin out to Ducky, who snatched it from his hands and rushed to her other side, just in time to catch her vomit in it. The men sighed in relief, Ducky because he had managed to prevent the carpet from needing cleaning and Jethro because Jenny was finally awake.
"Thank you." Jenny said weakly and then she slumped back on the bed, bringing both hands up to her head. She held it, signifying she had quite a bad headache and then she felt around at a crusty patch on the side of her head. "Ouch, what happened?" she asked groggily, pulling her hand away from the crustiness and seeing dried blood.
"You fell in your study and hit your head on the floor, remember?" Jethro prompted, watching her face turn from confusion to shame as she recalled the event.
"I was drinking." She said tonelessly, staring up at the ceiling, anger at herself flooding her. She shook her head at herself and then stilled, the action bringing pain to her head and making her feel nauseous. She curled into a sitting position and then threw more of her stomach contents into the bucket that Ducky was silently holding, noting that most of what she brought up was alcohol. What had she eaten today? More importantly, had she eaten today? She couldn't remember and that worried her.
"Thank you." she said again, avoiding looking at them. She knew what they were thinking, that she was an alcoholic whom couldn't take care of herself, that she needed help. She knew they were angry and disappointed with her because she couldn't even drink inside her own home without something going wrong, but what could she do about it? They were watching her closely even now, waiting for her to slip up, to show some sort of weakness that would allow them to stop her from completing her mission to avenge Rosie.
They didn't care that she was suffering inside, that every time she saw a happy couple she thought of what she had lost with Jethro, that when she saw a smiling child she thought of Rosie. They didn't care that she was losing the battle to get La Grenouille, that her daughters and her father's killer was getting further and further away from her every second and there was nothing she could do about it. All they cared about was… well, she couldn't answer that, but it certainly wasn't her.
That's not true, said a soft voice inside her, they do care about you; you are just stopping yourself from seeing it so you can continue along this path of self destruction. She shook her head angrily, she knew what they were thinking, she could see it in their eyes. No, what you see is far from what you are interpreting it as. The alcohol is making you depressed; it's clouding your view of those around you and giving everything a hostile edge. She exhaled in annoyance at her inner voice, hoping it would shut up and go away, but the words made sense. Hadn't Jethro held her while she had cried only a few hours ago? Hadn't he made her smile and told her he would be by her side in her personal mission?
"Jen, are you ok?" Jethro asked her softly, and she looked at him sharply, expecting to see the judgemental look in his eyes, but they only showed genuine concern for her, making her swallow sharply. She began to nod, but stopped herself and shook her head instead.
"No, I'm not."