Jenny hadn't realized how exhausted she was until she settled down in the front seat of Jethro's car. A sigh of relief escaped her lips and she turned to rest her head against the window, closing her eyes.
Gibbs watched her with no small degree of concern. "Geez Jen, you really have to start sleeping," he muttered, thinking she might already have dozed off.
"I heard that," she retorted, but was too tired to find a comeback.
He reached over and found her hand, holding it lightly. Jenny kept her eyes closed and thought how nice a small touch like that felt. She wondered if she was crazy for ever being afraid to have Jethro touch her but an instant later she remembered that, like nightmares, flashbacks were something that just couldn't be controlled and decided not to beat herself up about it.
It seemed like seconds later that they were pulling into the driveway, even though the driving distance between her house and NCIS had not altered, not even with the way her husband drove.
Gibbs shook Jenny's shoulder lightly. "Jen? We're home. Come on honey, you need to come inside."
Jenny really didn't want to open her eyes. Or rather, at this moment she wasn't even sure she could. They felt like maybe someone had attached weights to the lids when she hadn't been looking. It was like one of those dreams where no matter how hard she tried or how important it was, she just couldn't get her eyes open. But there was her husbands voice again, telling her she really didn't want to sleep in the car.
"Fine," she groaned, using all of her energy just to force her eyelids open. When she looked over to the driver's side she noticed Jethro had left and wondered if she really did fall asleep.
"Hey," his voice said to her right. She turned slightly and there he was, peering in the passenger door at her, the care evident in her eyes. "Let's go inside babe."
Gibbs grasped her upper arms and helped her out of the car. They walked to the house with him supporting most of her weight, one arm wrapped around her waist to keep her upright. He unlocked the door and they made it inside right before the sky let loose with a torrent of rain. The thunder soon followed. He helped Jenny off with her coat and stood in front of her.
"Jen, why don't you go lie down for a bit. You can't even keep your eyes open."
She shook her head weakly. "If I fall asleep now I won't be able to sleep tonight."
While he highly doubted that given her current state of exhaustion, he revised his suggestion. "Okay, but at least lay down and rest. Even if you don't sleep it's gotta help a bit."
After a moment of consideration in which she tried and failed to get a coherent thought through her cloudy mind, Jenny agreed and let Jethro help her upstairs. Once she was laying down, she was barely aware of what else he was doing. Slipping her arms out of her suit jacket. Removing her high heels. Covering her with one of her favourite blankets that was always folded in the closet. Just before he left the room, he pressed a soft kiss to her unresponsive lips.
"Sleep well Jenny."
If only words could make it a reality. Jenny shifted in her sleep, restless, running from the memories that dogged her attempt at rest. Hazy pictures floated through her sleep fogged mind. Stepping out of the garage. His hands grabbing her. The gag choking her attempts to scream. Bouncing around in the trunk of his car and praying that somehow Jethro would find her. Jenny struggled against the grip of slumber, desperately trying to fight her way out of the timeline. She didn't want to go any farther. She began to thrash in her bed until the sudden movement of her legs woke her up.
Jenny sat up and looked around, groggy and unsure of exactly where she was. It was her room. The familiar outline of her dresser, the closet, the open door to the bathroom. She sagged back into the pillows, running her hands over her face, trying to press the memories back into the box where she had hidden them. She was so tired. She didn't know if she'd slept for hours or days, but she knew sleep was too generous a word for it.
Swinging her legs over the side of the bed, Jenny pulled herself upright again. All of her muscles protested the movement and she realized the sudden need to use the bathroom. When she came out, Jenny decided that it was time for the work clothes to go. Exchanging her suit for pyjamas, she slid her faux silk dressing gown overtop and reached for the end of her tousled braid to release her hair from the elastic.
She combed her fingers through the red tresses, still damp from being woven together this morning. Finally she headed for the door and then realized there was a familiar smell hanging in the air. She took a deep breath. Mmm, someone was making supper. At the bottom of the stairs Jenny turned and saw a light on in the kitchen. Curious now, because her husband really wasn't one for cooking, she stopped at the kitchen door in surprise.
"Well," she smiled at her husband, "when did you suddenly get domesticated?" He was standing in front of the stove, skimming a wooden spoon through sauce and vegetables in the frying pan. She raised her eyebrows. "Stirfry Jethro? I'm impressed."
He turned around. "Hey gorgeous," he started towards her. "How did you sleep?"
Jenny felt her muscles tighten as he reached for her and she spun around out of his reach to get a glass from the cupboard, trying not to make it obvious that she was avoiding him. Not right now, she thought. She couldn't handle his closeness or his touch when she was this much on edge.
"Since when do you make stirfry, Jethro?" she asked, avoiding the confusion in his eyes.
He moved back to the stove and shook the bag sitting on the counter.
"Ahh," she understood. "Stirfry in a bag." She grinned. "That's cheating."
"Well, it was either that, or toast," he said, attempting to keep his voice light. She didn't want him close again. When would it be okay to just approach her at any time? The last few days had been so inconsistent, and even though Ducky had warned him about that, Gibbs' head was spinning just trying to keep track of her moods.
Jenny lifted herself up onto the counter and watched as he finished simmering their dinner. "How long was I out?"
Her husband glanced at the clock. "Not long, about an hour." He surveyed the nervous way she was twirling her hair around her finger. Gosh he loved it when she let it down, all he wanted to do was run his fingers through it and feel the silky strands against his skin. Although he would do more to feel her against his skin. He clenched his hands, trying to move his thoughts out of dangerous territory. He looked up at her again. "Are you going to tell me?"
"Tell you what?" the innocent expression she pasted on as fake as the lightness in her tone.
"What happened while you were sleeping to make you so jumpy I can't even come near you."
A curse upon men who always had to know what was wrong so they could try to fix it! He couldn't fix this. He couldn't do anything to fix it no matter how hard he tried or how much he wanted to. She hoped they were right when they said time heals all things, because she didn't know how much longer she could handle being afraid.
"It was...nothing," she said, not meeting his eyes. "Just a dream. It was just a dream," she muttered again to herself.
To her relief, Jethro left her comment alone and flipped the knob to turn the burner off, scooping the stirfry onto two plates. For the first time in days they sat down to actually eat a meal at the kitchen table. There was a glass of milk in front of each of their plates, to keep their tongues from burning with the heat of the stirfry sauce. They both liked spicy foods.
It was hard for them to have the same kind of normal supper conversation that most couples engaged in. In response to the, "How was your day?" question, it wasn't something normal like, "The boss was a jerk. Two guys in the meeting argued until the chairman had to break it up because it came to blows. The customers today just couldn't be satisfied." Instead, it was more along the lines of, "We caught a murderer. I briefed the Secretary of the Navy on our operation. The FBI tried to worm their way into our investigation. I wanted to kill two of my agents for acting so juvenile." Plus, because they worked so closely at NCIS sometimes, they didn't really even need to catch the other one up on the days activities. And so, for the moment, silence reigned in the room.