Disclaimer NCIS is not mine

A Vulnerable Trait

'Pour me something stronger,
Pour me something straight,
All these crooked voices, make them go away,
I can barely stand up,
I can hardly breathe,
Pour me something stronger than me.'
-Connie Britton, Stronger Than Me

It was surreal; to wake up in her own double bed, in her own Georgetown house, to the sight of the sun splintering through her own window. The feeling of being surrounded by her thick clean duvet that smelt of safety. The smell of the same washing powder Noemi had always used as long as she had worked for Jenny. In one sense everything was so familiar, yet in another it was alien. The bed had not been the one that she slept in for so many months, the house had not been the one she lived in and the window not the one she looked out of for what seemed like an eternity. The life she was about to lead again seemed so distant, Jenny had gotten to the point where she didn't know who she was anymore. Jennifer Shepard the agent was someone she was going to have to work hard and search to find and get back.

She laid there, head nestled in her pillow and body still in comfort. The house was silent, Noemi had not left until late the previous night, too scared that something would happen to her boss and she'd be gone yet again. The red head knew that even though she'd told the Hispanic woman to take the day off she wouldn't. Noemi would walk through that old oak door, like she no doubt had done every day that Jenny had been away. Even though she would be going against Jenny's wishes, the red head would not mind. The agent knew that having another person in the house may just help keep her demons at bay for a little while longer.

Turning to look at the clock beside her she groaned. The red letters read that it was well past 10 in the morning. She knew that whilst the Director was not expecting her to step foot in NCIS for a good week, today she would do just that. There were too many people she had to thank to stay at home wallowing in her own self pity. Too many people whom she was in debt to, who had worked late into the night and early into the morning when others had lost all hope of finding her.

It may not be expected of her by others, but she expected it of herself.

Running a hand down her face she felt the cuts and scars raised up on her skin. Each of them making her feel even more broken and damaged than the last. With all the motivation she could muster she threw the white duvet cover off herself and slowly made her way out of bed. Around her abdomen still held the taping to keep her ribs in place and help them to heal, and so her movements were slow and jagged. Even with the tape on they hurt. The pain meds she'd been given in Cairo had long since worn off and left her system. But she was hesitant to take anymore.

When she walked into headquarters later that day she knew that she would be facing the team. She'd be facing Will and Stan, two men she did not want seeing her any weaker than she was. She'd be seeing Gibbs, the man with so much pride it was contagious. Part of her wanted to prove that she could cope just as much as he could – that she didn't need protecting. If she was doped up on painkillers then she could not do that – she'd be even more vulnerable to attack.

When she made it into her en suite bathroom she smiled at the sight that met her eyes. Noemi had been out and bought all her favourite toiletries, something that was so normal, so every day – but made Jenny's day. Slowly, and awkwardly she removed the tape from her abdomen and turned on the shower.

Half an hour later the red head felt human again. Her hair was dry and she was wrapped in a thick fluffy pink towel, stood in her wardrobe deciding what to wear. She'd already put more tape around her abdomen, as awkward as it had been to do so. And as she looked at the clothes, she felt like they weren't hers anymore. Each outfit had been worn by a Jenny who was younger and had fewer demons. A Jenny who didn't have scars to hide.

Walking to the end of the rail she pushed a few clothes away and picked up an oversized red USMC hoodie. One that she fondly remembered pinching back before Paris. The fabric was soft, thick and well worn. The lettering was faded, but as she placed it under her nose she could still smell the bourbon and sawdust. Grabbing a pair of leggings as well, she slowly got changed into the garments and pulled on a pair of well worn baseball boots.

She was about to not look in the mirror, ashamed of the way she looked. But out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of herself. The woman who stared back at her was not the woman who had left. The leggings she wore clung to her legs, legs which were half the size of what they had once been. Gibbs' hoodie made her look the size of a child, weak and feeble. Then she saw her face. The red head was sans makeup because she knew it would do nothing but make her cuts look even worse. Her cheek bones were prominent, eyes deeper set and dull. Their usual sparkle diminished by recent events. The red hair that framed her face repulsed her. The stands were messy, the ends split, and it was all various lengths due to tortures. A constant reminder of the hell she had been forced to endure. Picking up a bobble off of the side she tied her hair up into a long ponytail, making a mental note as she did so to get it cut when she got the chance.

Outside the sun was hidden behind a cloud, the air was warm, but she was cold. The Navy Yard was as it always was, nothing had changed. But to Jenny it felt bigger and busier than it ever had before. Men and women were rushing around in their uniforms, people were shouting and agents were coming and going. When she finally got to the NCIS headquarters she stood there looking at it. At the board which held its name in gold metal letters. At the entrance, and at the height of it, towering over the street – over her.

"Can I help you ma'am?" A marine obviously visiting the naval base questioned her. She turned to look at him, feeling a sense of realisation as she saw his face. The dark brown hair, short at the sides yet longer on top. The slight creases around his eyes from smiling, high cheekbones – but not feminine. Tall, muscular… "Jenny?"

"Mark?" She questioned, remembering just where she knew him from. Back when Gibbs had been on honeymoon and she'd been the boss, back when she was frustrated at his apparent blindness to her feelings, Mark was the marine she had met who was about to be deployed. The man she'd met on Friday night and stayed with until Sunday – it had certainly been on hell of a weekend.

"Are you okay? I mean you look-"

"Terrible, I know. How was the tour?" She questioned, it was purely delay tactics. If she was outside then she was not facing Gibbs, not seeing the looks of sympathy on the faces of those she knew.

"It was hard. Look erm, that weekend it was fun. You fancy doing it again sometime?"

Jenny couldn't help but laugh as she looked at him. "I'm a bit worse for wear right now, got a broken rib or two, how about coffee some time, and we take a rain check on the weekend?" The red head knew she was pushing it, both of them had only really expected it to be a onetime thing and purely physical. Yet she was attracted to him – she couldn't deny that – and maybe if he could look past her current appearance then he could be attracted to her.

"It's a deal." He said, pulling out a pen and a scrap of paper and handing it to the red head after he'd written on it. "Call me." And with that he walked away, Jenny laughed to herself. She felt like rubbish, as though an elephant had danced on her, and yet seeing him again, out of the blue, completely by chance . . . maybe if nothing it else it was simply a good omen.

And if not, if it was something else, then all the better for it.

The lift dinged as it reached the bull pen, but it was just another day at the office for everyone else, so no one looked around. No one watched as the red head stepped out of the metal lift for the first time in month. None of them saw the look of fear that swept over her face momentarily before a wall went up. This place had always been home, but she'd never been weak walking into it. In that moment she felt like an outsider, because the red head was well aware of the fact that there had been numerous rumours about her circling in her absence.

She just hoped she had the strength to prove them were only rumours.

As she walked over toward the familiar area which enclosed her team, she pulled the sleeves of her hoodie down over her hands. Hoping she could shield some of the scars from view. But they weren't on her hands, they were on her face.

Out of the three men who sat at their desks it was Stan who saw her first, then will, then Gibbs when he had hung up on the phone. "Jeez Red you look awful!" Was Stan's not so flattering statement at her appearance. But none the less she smiled all the same. Knowing it was just his way of showing affection. He came forward and hugged the red head, only briefly, but long enough for her to know that he cared. And it meant a hell of a lot to her.

"It's good to see ya Shep." Will said, walking over and hugging her too. She smiled as her did so, and swallowed her emotions as he whispered; "Don't do that to us again." in her ear. When they parted she looked at them both and felt relief wash over her. As nervous as she had been about looking vulnerable in front of them, now she knew that she had been silly to do so. Because these two were her brothers.

"Thank you both, for everything." She said, smiling as she placed a stray piece of hair behind her ear. But for those two the emotional moment had passed.

"Yeah, well Gibbs has been a nightmare without you, and I've got a permanent headache from the head slaps." Stan said, as both men returned to their desks. Jenny turned to look at Gibbs himself, stood by his desk, just far enough away to give the younger agent space. She smiled at him, and could see the guilt radiating off of the former marine. Jenny could feel his eyes raking over her body searching for any and every bruise, scar and cut.

"It's good to have you back Jen." He said softly, as he looked over at her, and she smiled at him. Because there it was, the use of the nickname he had adopted for her in Paris what felt like a lifetime ago.

"It's good to be back." And with that she began to walk up the stairs to MTAC. The red headed field agent was well aware of the fact that in the next few months she and Gibbs would have a lot to work through. There were the arguments which had taken place before she left and there was the brief conversation that had happened in the alleyway in Moscow. But they were family, and he had had her back. Gibbs may not have been there when she got taken – something she knew his guilt over would never subside – but he had been there trying to find her.

The Directors secretary looked like she was about to faint at the sight of Jenny. In actual fact it took Jenny asking her for her to actually say anything. "Is he free?" She asked, but the only response she got was a subtle nod of the head. Jenny rolled her eyes and softly knocked on the metal door before opening. His secretary still didn't say a word.

Tom Marrow looked up from his piece of paper to see a tired, battered and bruised woman enter his office. And as Jenny looked over at him, smiling as she closed the door behind her, she saw the age that was on his face. In all the years she had been at the agency, she had a hard time remembering a time when their director had looked any different. But today he looked tired; he looked like he had been through the wars. And she wondered just how much grief her disappearance had caused him.

"Jenny?!" His voice was half questioning surprise and half sheer amazement. Her lips twitched up at the sides when she heard his intonation.

"Hello sir." She replied, slowly walking over and sitting down on the chair opposite. The standing around outside and then in the bull pen was taking its toll. The chairs were leather; with a hard straight back that made her sit up straight and probably did a lot of good for her ribs.

"I was not expecting to see you here for another week at least." He stated. Most agents would finally step foot in the agency a month later, he'd expected Jenny to do so a week later, she however had done so a day later. "How are you feeling?"

"Better than I look." She answered, not entirely sure if that was the truth or not. All she knew was that being back in the headquarters, seeing the people she considered family, had lifted her spirits. She knew what she had to do, that she had to build up her strength, and then she'd be back.

"Well I'm glad." He said, and both smiled softly at the comment. "You didn't have to come in so soon." Jenny just nodded and looked down at her fingers.

"So many of you did so much, you, you all did-"She blinked a few times and took a deep breath. "Thank you." She said, looking up at the director whom she had grown close to over the years. "Thank you a million times over." Her voice was raw with emotion, and it made his heart swell. She and Gibbs were part of the NCIS that had broken the rules, done what had to be done and was at the bottom of the food chain. Agents weren't all like that anymore, but Gibbs' team was, and Tom was pretty sure that they always would be – something which would cause him no end of stress.

"You're welcome Jenny. We weren't going to have you not coming home."

"Thanks." She said again, before straightening up and looking at him once more. "I'll be back in a fortnight at most-"

"-You don't have to, take as much time off as you want."

But the red head just shook her head, she didn't say a word but he knew in her heart that she had to get home. That she had to make her way back to normality as soon as possible. While other agency director would frown on his for his leniency over the matters, he really didn't care. He was looking after his agent. She would have Gibbs, Stan and Will all looking out for her. And anyway, he was part of the old NCIS, just like Gibbs and the woman in question were.

"Well then, I'll see you when you're ready agent Shepard." Jenny and the Director exchanged a friendly smile, and then she stood up slowly and left. Tom didn't miss the small wince of pain that passed across her face as she stood up to leave. But he remained silent, knowing all too well that she felt vulnerable enough without his prying questions as to her pain.

Thanks for reading, i know Jenny seams to be flicking around a bit and she will for the next few chapters as will the timings. But i need to move the story along. Hope you all enjoyed, please go check out my new NCIS NCIS:LA crossover one shot where Hetty and Jenny meet.

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