Disclaimer: Not mine.
Some people went through life with no expectations. Some thought they were entitled. Some took it one day at time. Some never really let go of the past, making the present never satisfying. Some- well some, planned for the good, the bad and the ugly - the future.
oOo
Gibbs was used to making boats, that's what he knew. His basement was outfitted for such major undertakings. This time. . . this time was different. He wasn't making another sailboat. He was constructing a coffin.
A coffin for Mike Franks.
Too many years of lighting up have caught up with me, Probie. For three decades, I outran every bullet aimed at me. Can't outrun this, not with these lungs. I've only got a few more months to go and I plan to live them.
Gibbs sat in his basement carefully working on the decorations to adorn the coffin. Carving each leaf and each vine. Painting the flowers, bright green and red. He took a swig of bourbon and smiled. Oak barrels. It seemed fitting.
He'd spent so much time examining the oak wood pieces for this project. He didn't want any knots, nicks, or splints. He laughed when he thought about picking out flawless wood for Franks, as his life was anything but.
Oak. Great strength. Hardness. Resistant to attack. Except he didn't outrun the last attack. The last bullet. Franks thought this damn disease would finally take him. Funny how things work out.
oOo
Gibbs was flanked by five Marines at Mike Franks funeral. The American flag draped the coffin. His family was presented the flag. Gibbs whispered, "You're my responsibility now." Marines always kept their word. He'd been to funerals before but this was different. Franks trusted him with his secrets, his family, and his life. But Gibbs couldn't save him. He wasn't meant to. Franks did what he did best. Stared down death only this time; death won.
Semper Fi.