Disclaimer NCIS is not mine

We're All a Little Damaged

'I guess Heaven was needing a hero
Somebody just like you
Brave enough to stand up for what you believe and follow it though
When I try to make it make sense in my mind
The only conclusion I come to
Is that Heaven was needing a hero like you'
-Jo Dee Massina, Heaven was needing a hero

Jenny didn't know what to do after that. Jethro told her to go home; to curl up and cry if she wanted, to run a bath, to do whatever it was that would let her grieve. But she couldn't, that house, it was as much Mark's house as it was hers. Or at least that was how she saw it. There were his things in every room, his clothes in her wardrobe, his films in her lounge, his cereal in the kitchen and his liquor in her study. It was no longer the empty house where she had lived ever since her father death. For a short while it had been a place of serene happiness once more, just like it had been when she was a child and she lived there with Noemi and a father. It had been a place where smiles and laughter had rang out once more, a place where the mind was free to dream of a picket fence life like the one she had told herself she could not have.

Now ghosts walked through its hallways once more.

She told Jethro she couldn't go home. So he told her to go his house. Yet Jenny couldn't do that either, she couldn't go there so soon after Mark had … gone. Not after the last thing that Gibbs had said to her in that basement, it was too soon for that. One day in the future they would have to address that, one day they would have to sit down and talk it out. That day, however, was not upon them yet. It would be a long time before it was.

So she got up and made her way down the long winding stairs to the bull pen. Jenny didn't know where it was she was heading, but she knew that work was too much to deal with in that moment. She needed to grieve, and to do that she needed to go someplace else; wherever that may be. Before she had headed down she had picked up her phone, the screen was smashed, but thankfully it still worked. As it turned out the missed call had been from Gibbs, asking where she was no doubt. The red head shoved it in her bag as she silently grabbed that and walked out.

Stan and Will were concerned, Jenny's eyes were red, and her makeup had ran and smeared. They had barely ever seen her look like that. The only time they'd seen her look anywhere near as bad was when she had first come into the office after the whole kidnapping incident. That had scared them enough, but now, not knowing what was going on, that scared them more. But she ignored their delicately phrased questions, and left headquarters in silence. It was when Gibbs came down from Tom's office that they got their answer.

As their boss entered the MCRT division, they saw how tired his eyes were and the sadness in them. "Red left, alright for some part timers, eh?" Stan said, trying to lighten the mood. But Gibbs just glared at the agent as he slid into his chair behind the desk that he practically lived behind. It wasn't Gibbs' place to tell the team, and he knew that. But the former marine also knew that after everything they had been through together after nearly losing Jenny when she went undercover, and all the other bullets that had been fired their way, they deserved to know. The team, his team, were a family.

"There was a bombing at a port where Navy officers were collecting some stuff. One officer saw it, and saved the lives of everyone else-"Gibbs began, but he didn't even need to finish, the pair knew exactly what it was that Gibbs was trying to say. They'd seen so many deaths over the years, solved so many cases, given their condolences to so many families. These days their minds automatically went to the worst case scenario. Stan's face fell in regard to his previous comment. Both leant back in their chairs, their faces looking as though they themselves had lost someone.

"He was the officer?" Will clarified, wanting to be certain. Gibbs just nodded. They all felt like it was a punch to the stomach, he'd never forget the hours in sat in Tom's office, waiting to for confirmation from the SecNav that it was Mark whom had been the officer to lose his life. Waiting for confirmation that they were about to tear Jenny's world to shreds. "How did she take it?"

"She's . . ." Gibbs began, but he couldn't think of what to say, they all nodded though, they'd seen the look on her face when she had collected her bag and silently left. The only word any of them could think to use to describe her was broken. Her spirit was broken, her heart was broken, and her hope was broken. But broken was a word none of them would use, because broken was something that you couldn't repair. She would get back, she'd come back bouncing like she always did. It'd take time, hell it would take years and that was something Gibbs could vouch for. But it would happen. So, Jenny wasn't broken, she was bent, bruised, even damaged. She was not broken.

"Damn." Stan said, under his breath as he thought of everything the red headed agent had been through. First the op that had taken her around Europe with Gibbs, then the one in Moscow, the fall outs with her partner and the kidnapping. It was more than any of them could ever comprehend.

"She was so happy this morning, hell she was about to look at old cases." Will stated, thinking how happy she had been recently, thinking about the ring on her left finger, about all her plans for the weddings. It broke their hearts. She deserved so much more. All they ever did was go after women for a one night stand, and then there was Jenny, getting married, getting ready to settle down and start roots. Both of them would swap places with Mark in a heartbeat. In that moment though, a small hint of how short life was passed over them. A sudden realisation.

"Jesus Christ! He was a good one too. Put up with our teasing." Stan said. No one else replied though, because what else could they say. He'd been everything that Jenny deserved and more. He had fitted in with them when they went out for drinks; he'd laughed and joked, and dealt with being the centre of most of them.

It was hard to believe that he was gone.

Stan and Will couldn't even begin to comprehend how Jenny must be feeling.

Jenny walked aimlessly through the city, wondering from street to street until hours had passed. Eventually she ended up in a park. Her brain couldn't register which one; it had too many other things running through it. She bought a coffee from the vendor, a German man, who used way too much aftershave to be sanitary. Jenny then walked across the park and sat down on a black metal bench.

The coffee went cold before she even thought of drinking it.

Her eyes were glazed over, and the occasional tear ran down her face. She swallowed every sob though, not wanting passersby to feel sorry for her. Yet there were few of those. It was still term time, and she guessed children were not yet out of school for the day. But she sat there even when they walked past, mothers sending her a look of concern as they ushered their children past.

Hours went by, hours upon hours and she just stayed there, with a cup of cold coffee in her hand. If anyone asked her what she was thinking about then she would not be able to answer. Mark, life, fate, destiny, the future. She'd never been religious, not even after her father's death or her mothers. But right in that moment she wished that she was. Jenny wished that she had some place to turn to for solace, wished that she had someone who could explain as to why an innocent man had so needed to be snatched away from this world so cruelly. A man who was a million times better than she herself was.

A man who was about to be a father.

Jenny wasn't religious, fate and destiny confused her. The redhead did, however, believe that everything happened for a reason – or at least she used to. These days it felt like someone was playing a game of cards with her life and had a dire hand. Well, all but one ace anyway, the child she was carrying. Her hand subconsciously went to her stomach, it was flat, but she felt a flutter of nerves at the thought of the child that was growing inside. She remembered the words Mark had said, and her heart broke.

Jenny had practically grown up without a mother and lost her father too young. Now her child was going to grow up without a father. She was all it had.

By the time she stood up to leave the stars were out and the sky was a dark navy blue. She looked up, as she left the park, and found the brightest star in the sky. "I miss you Mark." She spoke, in a barely audible whisper, another tear rolling down her cheek. "We love you." Jenny added, rubbing circles over her stomach before wrapping her arms around herself, cold from the dropping temperature and spending the entire day outside.

Jenny wandered once more, until she found herself on Ducky's doorstep. She paused, thinking about whether it was a good idea until her knuckles tapped against the wood of the door, and she heard a muffled dog bark. It was soon silenced, just before the door opened and she was face to face with the Scotsman. He was still dressed in his work attire, only now his bowtie had been removed and his top button undone. As soon as he laid his eyes on her fragile form, the irises softened. "I'll put the kettle on my dear." He said, and she smiled, entering the house when he opened the door wider.

It was warm inside, homely. She'd always loved that about this large house, the way it never felt impersonal. Ducky led her into a small sitting room, where there were two leather chairs and a side table where a book lay open. Obviously she had interrupted. "I'm sorry to intrude Ducky, it's just- I didn't know where else to go." She said, sitting down and looking down at her fingers as she played with the chipped nail polish. Her eyes moved to the ring that sparkled in the dim light of the reading lamp.

"You have not intruded my dear, you're always welcome here. Now, let me make a pot of Earl Grey, and we can see if we can't set the world to rights." Jenny just smiled as he disappeared off towards the kitchen to boil the kettle. The red head removed her shoes, and pulled her legs up under her. Looking around the room she looked at the shelves upon shelves of books that lined the walls. Ducky was so intelligent, he'd always reminded her of her father. In her mind she knew that the pair would have gotten along.

She leant over and peaked at the book Ducky had been reading before he interrupted. "Great Gatsby, my dear. A classic, a splendid piece of literature I must admit. Not my usual forte though."

"I've never read it." Jenny replied, looking up as Ducky placed two teacups and saucers down as well as a teapot which matched the elegant decoration. "I'm more of an Austen girl myself."

"Ah, now that is a name that I do admire." He said, pouring the steaming liquid into the china cups before adding a little milk to Jenny's and lemon to his own. "Timeless, however none of the films do it justice."

"My father always said my mother would have frowned upon me if she saw me watching one of them. Her favourite book was persuasion, or at least that is what he always said." Jenny smiled, picking up the teacup and letting the aromatic scent fill her senses. "I always went cliché, and chose Pride and Prejudice. Jethro reminds me of Darcy a little."

"Yes my dear, I dare say he reminds me of him too." Ducky looked at her, and smiled sadly. "Who would Mark be?"

"Mark is – was – more like Prince Charming I think." Ducky watched her, looking tired and worn out.

"I'm so sorry my dear. "

"We meet people on the worst day of their lives, and all we can offer them is 'our condolences'. It's so pathetic, such a small thing. How many people have offered me their condolences in my life Duck? First mum's, then dad's deaths, now Mark's. How many more people can be ripped away from me?!"Jenny's voice broke at the end; a tear escaped her eyes once more. She wondered just how she was still crying after the amount of tears she had shed that day. "And now I've got to raise a child knowing they will never meet their father."

"You're pregnant?" Ducky said with a small smile on his face.

"Yeah, I found out yesterday, I managed to get a video call to Mark too … he was over the moon. "

"Well then my dear, you now have the amazing job of raising a child who will be the son of a hero. And you're not alone, you'll never be alone. No matter what it feels like at the moment."

'I remember the last time I saw you
Oh you held your head up proud
I laughed inside when I saw how you were, standing out in the crowd
You're such a part of who I am
Now that part will just be void
No matter how much I need you now
Heaven needed you more'
-Jo Dee Massina, Heaven was needing a hero