"Tobias?"

Heavy brows furrowed back at the Voice in consternation.

"Jethro?" A grin somehow split the former FBI agent's grizzled features. Then Fornell's eyes gave an exaggerated roll. "Jesus Christ, I should've known you'd be behind an Op like this…"

"An Op like what exactly, Fornell?" Gibbs returned with a smirk. His arm extended, and then he was clasping hands with his old friend.

The same relief Gibbs felt at seeing the man alive seemed to be reflected back at him in Fornell's eyes as he responded. "Oh you know, some idiot sets up a safe place for anyone who can pull their own weight, and then lets more idiots spread the news around like a bunch of gossiping schoolgirls. Has Gibbs written all over it."

Gibbs chuckled. "Damn, it's good to see you, Tobias. Didn't think an old man like you would have Survived the Incident."

"You're one to talk," Fornell retorted good-naturedly. "You might smell like a petunia, but you're not exactly the young bud you used to be yourself."

The two men regarded each other for a long moment as the Guard and the other Rovers watched on in surprise. It was not every day a Survivor ran into someone they knew from before the Incident, and it was even less common for pre-existing relationships to have any effect on a Survivor's sense of self-preservation. Old friends would just as soon kill you in your sleep and steal any Resources you had as they were to shake your hand. But these two men… they were different.

Finally, Fornell's expression grew serious. "Well, regardless of what hare-brained scheme you have going here, we've come to try and be a part of it," he grumbled. "We can't keep on like we were, running from place to place as the Gangs came and went. We heard this was the place to do it." Weary eyes glanced at Gibbs. "You got room for a few more?"

Gibbs smirked, shifting heavily on his feet as he looked at the sorry band of Rovers. They were pale, especially in the moonlight, with sunken eyes and trembling shoulders. One woman looked almost ready to pass out from exhaustion, as her eyes drifted shut every so often, making her sway dangerously on the spot.

"Yeah," Gibbs said with an arch of his eyebrows. "I think we can find you a place to bunk down."

Fornell grinned. "Yeah?"

"Uh huh. And regretting it already."

"Just like old times, huh?"

Gibbs shook his head with a smile. Then, he folded his arms over his chest as he got down to business. "Here's the SOP. Probies get a three day Grace. You rest, get some food, see the way things work here. After the three days are up, you make a decision. Either go on your way, or become part of the system. You decide to leave, you'll get an escort to the Border. You stay, you get worked into the Rotations and assume assigned duties. By staying you agree to follow the rules and honor the system, including the Chain of Command. You don't abide by either, you get a first-class ticket out of here."

Fornell nodded. "Sounds reasonable." He looked back at the rest of the Rovers, who all nodded in relief.

"All right," Gibbs said. "We'll keep you all together for the Grace Period in some temporary housing. If stay, you'll be placed where we have room." He began to lead them away from the fire and towards the hushed town.

It was now late enough that more than a few Residents were asleep, but the Voice knew that the people he would need to help him get the Probies settled, namely the other Council members, would still be awake. The Voice's assumption was proven correct when a tall form appeared from the shadows, hand-in-hand with a small familiar firecracker.

"Daddy!" Natalia shouted happily, breaking free from Abby to come pelting at Gibbs full-throttle. The Shirt was clasped tightly in her little fist. "DaddyDaddyDaddy!" Her arms extended as she neared, and Gibbs swung her up in the air with a grunt of exertion.

"Unh! Geez, princess, what did you eat today?" Gibbs asked playfully, making Tali giggle in delight. "Must have been a boatload of sugar, huh?" It wouldn't matter that the toddler didn't know what sugar was. It was joke he made often, just to make her smile. "Because it is way past your bedtime, little lady."

"Wanted to see you, Daddy!" Tali exclaimed, throwing her arms around Gibbs' neck. "You were takin' too long, so we came and found you!"

Gibbs shot a look at Abby, who nodded in affirmation. Time must have slipped away from him, again. But luckily for him, both Abby and Tali never let him slip away. They always sought him out, if he was late.

"Well, I suppose that's okay then," Gibbs said, kissing her cheek. "How do you feel about staying up a little bit later?"

Tali's blue eyes widened. "Really? Can I?"

"I still have some things I need to take care of. It'll only take a few minutes, so you can stay up until I come to tuck you in, okay?"

"Okay!" came the enthusiastic response. Then she was wriggling out of his arms, and running back to Abby, who had stepped forward to take her hand.

"Thanks, Abs," Gibbs said softly. A grin was sent in his direction, but quickly disappeared as she noticed the Rovers.

She stepped closer to speak softly to the Voice.

"Gibbs, one of the Rovers is staring at me. He seems kind of shifty. Are you sure they're trustworthy?"

"Yeah, I'm sure," the Voice responded with a grin.

"Oh, well… Okay, then. It's just that he's totally creeping me out—" Gibbs watched her brow furrow as she peered at the Rover in question. Then they rose in delight as recognition hit. "Agent Fornell?!"

"Miss Sciuto," the former FBI agent returned, the grin in his voice made invisible by his think beard.

"You Survived!"

"Surprised?"

Abby paused for a moment. "No, actually. I guess not. It makes sense—" She was cut off by Tali, who started pulling forcefully on her hand, eager to get moving again now that the scene had completely lost her interest. "Okay, okay!" Abby told the little girl. "I'm coming!"

"Let's go, Auntie Abby! Daddy said we only had a few minutes, and you're wasting it!" The two girls began to move back to where they had come. "Auntie Abby! Can we do the arrow cards?"

"Sure, sweetheart," Abby agreed gamely. The Tarot Cards Abby had once put so much stock in before the Incident no longer held so much sway in the former Goth's life, but the woman's enthusiasm for them seemed to have transferred to Tali. When the stack of cards had been found three months ago, the little girl had been instantly fascinated by them as Abby dealt and interpreted them.

Gibbs watched the two girls go, and as soon as they were out of sight, he turned to see Fornell staring at him.

"What?"

"Cute kid," Fornell remarked simply. "Yours?"

"For all intents and purposes." Gibbs wanted to ask after the man's own daughter, Emily, but he knew better than to inquire outright. The Voice would have noticed the girl among the Rovers, and she had not been among them. And if she weren't with her father, then odds were—

"Emily and her mother were in California visiting family when the Incident went down," Fornell supplied, seeing the question in Gibbs' gaze. "Haven't heard from either one of them since. Tried going West just after It happened, but got stopped at the Blockade."

There was a pain in the man's voice, but all things considered, Fornell had more than most could claim by now. It was uncertain whether or not the Incident even made it to the regions of the country West of the Mississippi. And if it had, it was possible those on the West Coast had managed o either escape the country or prepare for the fallout. Fornell could still hope that his family was alive, and that was more than what so many other Survivors had to their names, when so many had personally witnessed the deaths of their loved ones. But Gibbs nodded without responding. It was not his place to pity or reassure, but if he bothered to give it much thought, he might have realized that he simply didn't want to offer any condolences.

Gibbs began to move again, leading the group towards the converted barn that had been set aside for the sole purpose of housing Probies. It contained only the barest of necessities, but it did have an intact roof and it was warm.

When they were a few yards from the structure, Gibbs turned to look back at Sergei, who was following at a respectful distance.

"Get DiNozzo to bring six hot Rations over here," the Voice instructed. Glancing at the Rovers, he switched to Russian. "And choose two Guards to stand watch here tonight."

The last time Rovers had overheard that they would be Guarded, they had thrown a fit, shouting indignantly at the thought of it. The Voice doubted these Rovers would do the same, but with half of Sanctuary asleep, he wasn't taking any chances. He would get them in the barn before letting them know what was what.

Sergei nodded, and swiftly disappeared in the night towards the Town.

"DiNutso made it too?" Fornell exclaimed gruffly. "Jesus, Jethro, is all of your crack team here?"

The Voice stiffened, a familiar pang of hurt lancing in his chest as his mind immediately went to the one member of Team Gibbs who had not made it to the Sanctuary. But he brushed the sensation off, just as he did the off-hand remark. And to his credit, Fornell didn't ask again.

The Voice pushed open the hinged door to the barn himself, allowing the Rovers to enter unhindered. As soon as they felt the cozy warmth of the barn's interior, each and every one of them sighed in relief.

"There's blankets and mattresses in the far stall. Use 'em if you want, or sack out in the hay." His tone was hard. "You don't leave this Barn until sunup, when the other Residents get to work. Two Guards will be posted outside; talk to them if you need anything. Food is on the way. You'll get a chance to clean up tomorrow." He surveyed them for a moment more, and then began to shut the door. He was halted by Fornell's voice speaking up.

"Gibbs—"

The Voice looked at his old friend, and found Fornell's expression a mixture of exhaustion, relief, pity—and above all else, gratitude. It was obvious the man wanted to thank Gibbs, but not even years of scavenging in the wild could erase the man's pride. It was enough that Fornell had asked for help in the first place, let alone offer thanks.

But the Voice nodded anyways; he didn't need his old friend to thank him. Pushing the doors closed, he signaled to the two Guards to come and stand post. They obeyed without hesitation, as such duty was by now all too familiar. As soon as they were in position, the Voice turned back towards the rest of the Town.

A small smile curled his lips as he made his way closer to the House, the largest one in Town. It was the one the other Residents had insisted he and the rest of the Council take, as a show of both respect and gratitude for helping them all find Sanctuary in the first place. There were five bedrooms in all, along with two sitting rooms, a kitchen, an attic, and a cellar. The cellar had been relegated to long-term food storage for the entire town, along with whatever firearm inventory they possessed. The attic had been converted into a space for Tali to play in safely, though the toddler only ever used it when it was too cold or rainy to play outside. The kitchen went widely unused, with no electricity and no running water. The bathrooms shared a similar fate.

Gibbs and Tali had their own room to share, with two beds—one big for Gibbs, a smaller one for Tali— as well as a wingback chair and a chest of drawers. Next door was McGee and Abby, though their room only needed one bed—the two had been Married for years now. Both Ducky and Palmer each had their own rooms, smaller than the others. They didn't need any extra space, as neither Medical Examiner had a partner or spouse.

Palmer had never truly gotten over the death of Michelle Lee, despite Ducky's efforts to get the younger man to socialize more with other female Residents. And when Ziva—the only one who had managed to help Palmer heal immediately after the Incident—never returned, Jimmy had retreated into himself. He was much like the Voice, with all capabilities still intact, only lacking the desire to use them socially. He helped Ducky with injuries and illness, and he pulled his weight with general duties as well. But he kept to himself most of the time, only really having conversations with Doctor Mallard.

Tony, on the other hand, had adjusted well to post-Incident life. He was more controlled than he once was, more mature. He had settled down with a Resident a year and a half ago. Rosie was young and blonde with plenty of fire, and had absolutely no qualms about putting Tony in his place if he ever reverted to his old ways. She put up with the occasional movie reference, and was eternally smiling, which was a safe counter to Tony's occasionally melancholy mood.

Every so often, seeing the two of them interact would remind Gibbs of an easier time—now a lifetime ago—when the worst they had to worry about was solving a case. He'd close his eyes and see a brightly lit squad room, with computer keys clacking away across the bullpen from his desk, and the light conversation between the two agents to his right. There'd be a not-so-subtle jibe from Tony, and then his partner would throw a threat his way in retaliation. And in the few moments of quiet that always followed, Gibbs would look to his right, and Ziva was there, shooting him a sly smile.

But when Gibbs opened his eyes again, the smile always belonged to a tall blonde, and it was never for him. The world would be a little bit darker, and his heart would be just a little bit heavier. Gibbs would retreat a little bit deeper, and if it weren't for the little splash of light that went by the name of Tali, he'd be a little bit closer to leaving everything behind.

But said splash of light was waiting for him now, and as he climbed the porch steps up to the house, he felt his spirits lift. He moved past the living rooms and to the stairs that led up to the bedrooms. He could hear soft movement coming from beyond the open door at the end of the hall. He peeked inside the room, and found Tali leaning heavily against Abby, tired blue eyes slamming shut. But they flew open as soon as she spotted him in the doorway.

"Daddy!"

Gibbs grinned and stepped into the room as Abby stood and pressed a kiss to Tali's hair, officially relinquishing possession of the toddler for the night. She gave Gibbs a wink as she passed, which he returned with a grateful grin. When he had closed the door after her, he turned back towards Tali, who was now kneeling in expectation of him.

"Come 'ere, Munchkin," Gibbs said, scooping the little girl up into his arms. She came without protest, snuggling into his chest. The Shirt in her hand brushed against his skin, making him grin. He brought her over to the smaller bed in the corner—the bed he had made himself, with her name carved into the headboard.

As soon as he released her, Tali burrowed under the covers until only her head was visible above the blanket. The black Shirt took its customary place next to her cheek, nearly brushing her nose. Gibbs reached out and ran a calloused hand over her curls, the motion causing Tali's eyes to drift shut again. Gibbs whispered a good night, but when he stood to leave, Tali cooed in protest.

"Story, Daddy," she requested plaintively.

Gibbs smiled in amusement, and sat down in the nearby easy chair. "You want me to get Uncle Tim?" As the unofficial storyteller, McGee knew to be on standby whenever bedtime rolled around.

Surprisingly, Tali shook her head. "No, Daddy. No fish-un." She still had trouble pronouncing the word Fiction, and now sleep was slurring her speech. Most kids preferred Fiction stories nowadays, with wizards and magic. Not Tali. "Memree," she declared.

Gibbs sighed. Though he doubted Tali truly understood the difference between Fiction and Memories, but his heart always twinged whenever the toddler asked for a Memory. It allowed Gibbs to feel things that he usually never did. Nostalgic ghosts of happiness, belonging, warmth… they all came rushing back when he told Tali his Memories.

Memories were tales that were told sparingly, pulled not from the ether of the imagination, but from the past. They were stories that were from before the Incident, of a world that for they knew no longer existed. To the children who had no Memories of their own, the stories about people who rode buses and trains to tall buildings where they sat at a table all day staring at glass screens and talking into pieces of plastic and computer chips were no less fantastical than the legends of Dragons and Fairies.

But every child knew there was a distinction between Fiction and Memories, even if they didn't understand it. Because Fiction did not bring tears to the eyes of older Residents, or make everyone in the vicinity fall still, straining to hear as well. Memories made grownups sad. Fiction didn't.

Gibbs liked telling Tali Memories, and loved when she requested them specifically. He always made sure to share ones that included Ziva. He avoided telling Tali the connection between Ziva and the black Shirt, unwilling to brave the questions of why Ziva was no longer there, or where she had gone. It was simply easier to have Ziva remain a character in the Memories, beloved yet detached.

Some day, when Tali was old enough to understand, Gibbs would tell her who her mother was, and the sacrifices Ziva had made for her. There would be a time where Tali might want to what her mother looked like, to know what she sounded like. She would never truly know those things, no matter how much Gibbs told her. But she would know who her mother was.

Not Margaret. Gibbs would tell Tali how Margaret died in that fight on the Docks, but since Gibbs knew little else about the woman, it would be Ziva, Tali's savior, who would be remembered. It would be Ziva, the assassin turned agent turned Survivor turned Wife turned Mother, who would hold a special place in the Memories of the Sanctuary and the Residents who migrated from the Warehouse.

And in the second-generation Memories of one blue-eyed brown-haired little girl.

Gibbs settled back in his chair, searching the past for an appropriate story to share. She had heard most of the lighter ones already—he refused to share those that were gruesome or sad. There was already too much of those in the child's life without adding the past to it.

But then he grinned, his mind coming to rest on one that was new, yet gentle enough for Tali to fall asleep during the telling if she needed to. After all, it was just a simple little Memory, insignificant in the large scheme of things, one that had taken place on a cool morning in late October. But Tali had heard this one dozens of times before—one of her favorites. It was a story of frozen men and greedy daughters, of moving mechanical heads and a single young Probie who hated being called Probie.

It was a shame Tali was so tired. She was asleep before Gibbs got to her favorite part—where a certain badgering partner fell victim to vengeful blue teeth.