"No!" Jenny moaned, thrashing in her sleep.
"Jen?" Rachel whispered, instantly away. She just barely touched her friend's shoulder. "Jen, wake up."
"No...Jethro!" Jenny cried, sitting straight up in bed. When she opened her eyes and saw where she was, her breathing relaxed. That had been awful. Oh, why did the nightmares have to keep coming? She hated them too, along with everything else.
"Jenny?" Rachel asked hesitantly, "Do you want me to get Jethro?"
Jenny's eyes widened and she shook her head vigorously. "No! No. Stay, please?"
"What happened Jen?" she asked, wanting to take the fear away that she saw reflected in Jenny's dilated green eyes.
"Do we have to...?" she began.
"Yes," Rachel urged. "You have to talk about it Jen, otherwise you won't be able to forget whatever it is you just saw."
Jenny disagreed. She'd have a hard time shaking the image no matter what she saw.
"Come on Jenny," Rachel said softly, "what did you see?"
Jenny dug her fingers into her hair, resting her elbows on bent knees. "I was in the bunker, where it happened. The man was there, on top of me again, and then..." her voice faltered. "It was awful Rach," she whispered.
"What was?" her friend asked rubbing Jenny's back slowly.
"My attacker, he...suddenly became...Jethro. And he was hurting me and I was crying and he wouldn't stop." Jenny wiped furiously at the tears that fell.
"Oh Jen," Rachel sat up and put an arm around her friend's shoulders. "I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm so sorry you have to go through this."
Jenny allowed the comfort, knowing she wouldn't have had the strength to face her husband after what had just happened in her dream.
"Thanks for being here Rach," she said after a long time.
Rachel coaxed her to lay back down and handed Jenny the stuffed bear that had been on the bed when they said goodnight.
"I was thinking I might tell you a story Jen. I've got a good one, just waiting in my imagination. It's about this family of teddy bears. No, I'm not joking. Stop laughing and pay attention. Anyways, there were three teddy bears in this story. No Jennifer, there is no Goldilocks. If you keep interrupting I'm going to go back to sleep. Thank you. So the first teddy bear's name was Boots. That's all he ever wore, green rubber boots no matter if it was summer, winter, fall, or spring. They couldn't get him to take the boots off, not even to sleep. They just poked out of the end of his bed every night. But Boots wasn't the only strange one in this family..."
Jenny curled up on the bed, listening to the sound of Rachel's voice. She didn't hear every word, but she knew Rachel was making up the story as she went along. She'd always been good at telling stories. Rachel used to volunteer for story hour at the children's library near campus. She started writing down her own stories and illustrating them, and using those books as the one's she read to the kids each week. Jenny smiled, her friend certainly had a gift.
As time wore on, Rachel's voice slowly lulled Jenny back into slumber, and before either of them knew it, they were fast asleep again, dreaming about teddy bears and green rubber boots and little girls named Molly who liked to jump in mud puddles.
NCIS
Friday morning was a little rushed. Rachel had to be out of the house by 0630 since she decided she wanted to shower and get ready at her own place. She just had cereal for breakfast quick and Jenny cancelled Noemi again for the early morning, thinking there would be too many people around and she just needed some time to herself. Hugging Rachel goodbye at the front door, Jenny whispered a thank you in her ear. Rachel's eyes said there was no need and she waved to Jethro, who was watching them from the top of the stairs.
Knowing that they would have to face each other eventually, Jenny made her way back upstairs to straighten the bedroom before she got ready for work. Gibbs followed her, determined to start breaking down the walls right now. When he put his hands on Jenny's shoulders as she stood beside the bed, her whole body stiffened as if she'd been turned to ice.
"Jenny?" he asked, knowing that kind of reaction was not good. When she didn't say anything he turned her around to face him. She had her eyes shut tightly and he wondered if she was trying not to fight him off. "Jen, talk to me. You've got to tell me what's wrong. I can't help you, I can't do anything to fix this if you don't talk to me."
At that her eyes popped open and she fixed him with a stare, pulling away from his touch and going over to the far side of the bed to yank the covers straight.
"Jen!" he said loudly, wanting her to snap out of it. "Let me help you."
Jenny stopped what she was doing. "I don't want you to fix it Jethro!" she snapped, setting him back. She massaged her temples and he wondered if another headache was threatening. "Don't try to make it better, or make me forget, because you can't and I can't." Jenny started pacing back and forth in front of the window, trying to explain, trying to make him understand.
"Sometimes I just need you to hug or hold me and tell me that everything is going to be okay, even if it's not. Because on days like today I'm so deep in the memories that I can't even see okay. Heck, some days I can't even remember what it looks like. My whole life is before and after right now and I'm just so tired of living with this. Please," she broke off in a whisper that ended in tears.
Gibbs walked across the room and reached for her. At first he thought it might work, but as soon as his hands touched her, Jenny's head snapped up and he didn't recognize the look in her eyes, didn't want to interpret it. She brought up something he'd said the night they had their talk about intimacy, promising that he would never hurt her.
"You say that Jethro, but how can I know for sure? I've been depriving you of my body for weeks, what if you can't wait any longer? How do I know you wouldn't force me without meaning to?"
Everything about Jenny screamed that she was not okay, that she was fragile and broken, her tone distraught. Somewhere in her mind, Jenny knew the truth, that her husband would never do anything like that. But right now he was just a guy and she couldn't stop herself from saying the words, from lashing out at him because she didn't know what else to do. She could see and feel her words tearing them apart even further, but it was almost like she was watching it happen from the other side of a window, powerless and unable to stop it.
The nightmare from last night pressed against her memory, and she saw him again, her husband in the place of her attacker. She tried to will the image away, but it remained firmly and stubbornly there, behind her eyes, a reminder not to trust. And Jenny hated herself for hurting Jethro, he didn't deserve it. But there was no one else there, so he became the target.
Gibbs shoulders sagged, the words cutting into his heart. "How can you even say that Jen?" he asked, hurt flowing out in his words. "You have got to know that I would rather never be with you that way again than to force myself on you when you aren't ready." How could she not trust him after everything they'd gone through together?
Jenny wrapped her arms around herself. "I don't know," she said softly. "It's all so confused. I'm sorry," she whispered, before running past him and locking herself in the bathroom.
He couldn't stand there any longer, the echo of her words still lingering in their room. Gibbs looked at the bed, wondering if they would share it again. 0700 and already this day was already irreparably broken. He had to get out of there. Two minutes later he had clean clothes on and was pulling on his jacket, while his wife stood upstairs in the shower and cried because she knew she'd just stabbed the man she loved in the heart.
NCIS
When Dr. Mallard arrived in Autopsy that morning, he flipped on all the lights and was humming to himself as he took off and hung up his hat, coat, and umbrella.
"Mornin' Duck."
Ducky whirled around, startled by a voice from the corner. Of course it was Jethro, no one else called him 'Duck'. His old friend looked awful, almost haggard. The ME sat down facing the team leader.
"About Jennifer again?" he asked.
Gibbs grunted. "What was your first clue?"
Ducky busied himself putting the kettle on. "Well Jethro, seldom do I have breathing guests. The living do not often want to be where the dead are."
"Guess I'm the exception," Gibbs muttered.
"Come now Jethro, do tell me why you are here. It can't be all that bad."
Gibbs sat forward. "You don't know what she said to me this morning Duck."
"Oh, and what was that?"
Gibbs wasn't going to give his friend the conversation verbatim, it was still too fresh. "It was as good as her telling me that she doesn't trust me at all." He put his head in his hands and groaned, anguish obvious in his features. "I feel like I've lost her completely, I don't know this Jenny. I don't want to know her either."
Ducky was silent as he stirred his tea. As much as he had a wealth of years and experience from which to draw on, in some situations more words simply would not help.
"I don't know how much more of this I can take," Gibbs admitted softly, feeling the weight of those words as he spoke them out loud.
"Ah," Ducky said after a sip of tea, "that's it then, the real issue." He set the cup aside, endeavouring now to be both compassionate and offer practical, simple advice. "Tell me Jethro, have you done all that you can do or just all you think you can do? Do you want to do more if there is something else to do? Because I can only see two options. Either this can be over now, leaving you both broken and bleeding, or you can take on the role of knight in shining armour, step up and fight for Jennifer through this hurt, and the two of you can be together until you're old and gray like me."
Gibbs' mouth opened, then closed. Impatiently, he got up from the chair and began to pace away from his friend. He hated that every time he talked to Ducky he was forced to search his soul to come up with the right answer. The question was a valid one: if it meant getting her back, fragile and damaged but healing nonetheless, and the chance for several more years of a life with her, how much was he willing to do?
Out of habit, Gibbs rubbed his thumb over his wedding band, a constant reminder of his wife and the commitment they'd made to each other. Feeling the raised, intertwined circles symbolizing eternal love, Gibbs knew that he had to hold onto that promise, and the unbroken love he and Jenny shared. He made up his mind, and right then decided that he couldn't let Jenny go, not without staging a much greater fight.
Heaving a sigh, he looked over at the elderly Scotsman calmly drinking his tea. "What do you suggest Duck?"
Ducky smiled. "Talk to her Jethro. Start by just talking to her."