Disclaimer NCIS is not mine

Authors note Between holiday, work and a poorly laptop this had been pushed further and further down the pile. So, i apologise, thanks for all the reviews, and please continue leaving them.

His Funeral

'This tunnel's dark
But there's a little light glowing
Bright enough for me to run toward knowing
Nothing in this world will ever break my heart again'
-Hayden Panettiere, Nothing in This World Will Ever Break My Heart Again

The morning of the funeral was warm, but Jenny didn't feel warm. She felt cold and alone as she sat in the big old house she had grown up in. Upstairs Ben and Marie were no doubt asleep; the red head had gone to bed earlier than them. And anyway, it was only just eight. But she'd been up and awake since before the first bird had even began to sing the morning in.

After lying awake in bed for what seemed like an eternity she had decided that it was pointless attempting to sleep. So she had got up, dressed in her running clothes and left the darkness of the house for the empty city streets. As she ran, her feet had pounded on the pavement in a perfect rhythm that she had rehearsed over the years; a rhythm that allowed her to think as she went. And as she did so, she had begun to think about her future, about life without Mark.

It was strange, a life without him was something she was now having to consider when only a month or so ago she had been considering what living a life with him would be life. A life where she would return home every night to someone to hug her, where she would return to someone who after a day when her confidence in mankind had been shattered, would slowly put it back together again.

Now she was back to returning to a cold bed, in an ancient house, where ghosts walked through every door.

Jenny ran, and ran and ran for nearing an hour. She didn't need music, her thoughts were loud enough as she ran the pavement of the familiar streets that she had walked for so many years of her life. Streets that she had grown up on, and fallen in love on. Now that she ran along as she had to try and put back together the map that her life would take.

She'd heard that woman never lost their baby weight; that they never lost the extra pounds or stone that they put on. But Jenny vowed not to be one of those women. Even when she was as big as a house she was going to stay fit – she had to in her job – or at least that was what she told herself.

As she ran, Jenny realised she hadn't given much thought to what she would do after the child was born. She would have to work – she wanted to work – as there was no one else to provide for them Then there was her baby to consider, where would he or she go whilst their mother was jumping in the line of fire? Jenny had heard that some of the female agents were putting a petition together to get a nursery in NCIS headquarters – but would it be enough? Would it be ready? Jenny thought of Noemi, the poor woman couldn't be expected to look after a baby as well as the house that was for sure.

Then there was the question of baby proofing the house. She would have to decide which room the baby would sleep in, move and re-arrange furniture so that it was more suitable, sort out the garden. She'd have to buy a cot, and a baby changing station and . . . In that moment Jenny realised that this was going to test her more than any case ever had done. She had thought that being kidnapped was the hardest thing she would ever face; now she was beginning to think that it would be a walk in the park compared to being a mother.

An hour after she left, she had arrived back at the town house. The large towering building was still in darkness as she looked up at it, it was still silent as she walked in. But the first few rays of morning sunlight had begun to push away the night sky.

She had showered and changed after that, and now was sat in the kitchen staring hap hazardly at a cup of tea that had long gone cold. The red head had already dressed for the funeral which was to begin at eleven. Yet she had barely managed to comprehend why she was dressing in all black. It was tradition, she knew that just like she knew that it was a sign of respect. But mark had been so full of life and part of her wondered if she should just go and put a floral dress on to prove her point.

But one look at the dress and it had all felt wrong.

So she sat there, in a pair of black boot cut trousers that she wore when she had to be in court and a black cami with spaghetti straps – it was too warm for anything else. Jenny looked down at her nails, the only colour on her. They were painted in emerald green, she'd done them the night before when she vowed that come the funeral she would remember the good times. She had vowed that instead of being sad about the time they had lost she would be grateful for the time they had had. That she would be grateful for the amazing gift of a child that Mark had given her.

How long would that last? She wondered. How long would she manage not to cry for? She was betting that it wouldn't last long at all.

The night before they had finally decided on the picture that they would use for on top of Mark's coffin. It wasn't the classic official Navy head shot that most chose, simply for the reason that there had been so much more to Mark than just his job in the Navy, so much more than just being able to follow orders. So instead they had chosen a picture of him that Marie had taken the last Christmas. He was smiling, because he didn't know she was taking it.

Jenny had filled up at the sight of it, but then again she filled up at everything recently.

The red head sighed and ran a hand through her still damp hair, she knew that she should do something with it before her natural waves went hay wire and couldn't be tamed. But that involved moving, and it seemed like all her energy had been taken up by simply breathing.

At the sound of footsteps Jenny was brought out of her thoughts as she saw Ben waling into the kitchen. He looked smart, but then again he had a way about him that he always looked smart; dressed in a pair of black pants, a white shirt and a blue tie unfastened around his neck. Jenny smiled at the colour, and he smiled at her nails knowing they had both had the same thought.

"Morning." She said softly, and he replied with the same greeting. He then grabbed a cup and made himself a coffee, and her another tea before sitting down opposite her and placing the tea in front of her. Jenny smiled as she moved the stone cold one to a side and out of her way.

"How are you feeling?"

"I'm okay, I don't seem to have had any morning sickness yet which is a good thing." She said smiling. It was strange how she found that she was noticing even the smaller parts of her behaviour more in case they told her something about the pregnancy. She'd decided that she would continue the diary of her pregnancy she had initially started for Mark. Maybe that way the story would reach him up in heaven.

"I want to be a granddad." He said, out of the blue and Jenny looked at him with a furrowed brow. "I don't want to be a grandpa, or a pawpaw, or whatever else people are calling them these days. I want to be Granddad."

"Granddad Ben." Jenny said, with a warm smile as she placed her hand of her stomach, a warm feeling rising inside of her at the thought.

"Jenny, I don't… I didn't know when to ask you, but Marie and I were talking. We thought maybe, for the end of your pregnancy and the first few months of the baby you would consider coming and staying in Ireland with us. You could stay for as long or short as you want, it's just quieter, and well, we'd be there to help. You would have your own space – we've got an annex. But it is completely up to you."

Jenny took a sip of her tea and rolled the idea around in her head for a moment. It would be a good idea, she'd be able to have a fresh start, but then there was Jethro and Stan, because Decker would be gone by then. They wouldn't get to see her child or her, and they were family too weren't they? "Can I think about it? I just, I don't know what I want yet."

"Of course, it's completely up to you." He said, squeezing her hand and smiling before making a second cup of coffee. "I'd best take this up to lady sleepyhead." He said with a smile, both trying to avoid the topic that was the reason why they were all getting up. Jenny just nodded and he began to leave the room, but she stopped him, as he reached the door.

"Ben." She said, looking at the older man as he turned to her. From that angle, in profile, in early morning light, he looked just like Mark. "Thank you." He just nodded in response, it didn't matter what she chose to do, because in that moment she knew that whatever happened they would be a part of this baby's life and in turn a part of her life.

Running a hand through her hair once more she stood up and went to go and finish getting ready. Her hands shook softly at the thought of the funeral. At the thought that this was the end of a big part of her life. That today she would say her final goodbye to this man, to the man that had turned her world upside down. To a man that had made her happier than she had ever thought that she could be. A tear rolled down her cheek at the thought.

Eleven o'clock came around, and everyone was sat outside, at the side of the coffin with the Chaplin on the other side saying a few words. All of Mark's crew were thee, all the men he had saved. Most were bruised and battered from the explosion, one was on crutches and another had his arm in plaster. But all were very much alive, and that was something that Jenny envied them for. Because Mark wasn't.

Jenny, Marie and Ben sat in the middle of the first row, and couple of Navy officers on either side, along with Mark's CO. Mark would be awarded the Medal of Honour next year for what he did, but for the time being he would have a full Military Honours funeral. With gunned solute and the presentation of the flag. Most of it went by in a blur for Jenny. Gibbs and the team along with Tom Marrow were all sat somewhere nearer the back. She was at the front.

Jenny didn't listen to the speech given by Mark's CO.

All she heard from Marie and Ben was that he was 'the most incredible man' and that they 'could not be prouder of everything he achieved'. Then it was Jenny's turn, and she stood up, and all of a sudden she looked at all the faces in front of her and felt a fraud. They'd all known him so much longer, been through so much more than she had with him. And yet it was her who would have the final word.

"Mark…" she stopped, took a deep breath and closed her eyes. "The second time he met me, I was broken, and hurt, and I could barely even think about the future, about my future. And yet in the short time I knew him he made me realise how much I had to live for. He gave me a chance to see past my demons and love. I wish, god I wish he was here so he could see what that love created. Because I love him, and he will always be… He'll always be the one who saved me."

Jenny sat down after that, tears streamed down her face and she wiped them away briskly. From behind her Gibbs felt his heart break, he knew what she was feeling and his heart went out to her. Never would he wish that pain on anyone - ever.

Everyone had gone home, but she was sat there on that park bench looking at the graveyard. She'd already visited her father's grave, already cried at Mark's. She was all cried out and yet she couldn't leave. Because leaving meant that this chapter of her life was over, and she wasn't ready for that – not yet. She wasn't ready to have to accept that Mark was gone, wasn't ready to think about raising this baby they had made alone.

The sound of footsteps on grass made her look up to see Jethro. She hadn't spoken to him afterwards, she'd been surrounded by people offering their commiserations. But they were just words. So the team had given her smiles across the distance and left – or at least she thought they had. Gibbs took a seat beside her but they both remained silent, his presence was enough to give her strength though.

"Ben and Marie have offered to let me stay with them in Ireland for a while, so they can help me for the first couple of months after the baby is born." Jenny said, turning to look at Jethro's face as he listened to her words. She didn't know what she expected to see. Jenny guessed that she wanted to see sadness, because she would leave him, wanted some sign that maybe he wanted her in his life. But part of her wondered if all of this, the death, the baby, she wondered if it had changed how he said he felt that night in his basement.

"You should go, it's a good idea." His voice was calm, soft and not laced with pain or sadness. It surprised her, but too late she realised that it shouldn't. She realised that despite everything both of them had only ever wanted what was best for the other. Despite everything going to Ireland would be the best idea for her, and that was why he supported her. "It will be hard at first, especially if it's a boy." And Jenny knew what he meant by that statement. She knew that it meant that if it was a boy, and he looked like his father, then she would be reminded of how much pain his death had caused her, on a daily basis. It was something she had worried about.

"What about work?" She questioned her voice was raw from the crying, and it was rough. But Gibbs barely even noticed, he'd thought she was stunning even the first time he saw her after Moscow – when she was bruised, battered, and underweight.

"You'll have maternity leave anyway, and there is a base in Ireland if you wanted to work anyway." Jenny just nodded, and Gibbs took her hand, squeezing it softly before looking at her. She looked better than she had the day they'd been for coffee, but she still looked scared, and he wasn't surprised. He'd been where she was, but she was lucky in the fact she had a baby who would be Mark's parting gift. He'd had nothing. "Jen, we'd miss you, but it wouldn't be forever. And if you don't go, then I'll be here to help. We all will be."

The red head just nodded and rested her head on his shoulder. Jethro wrapped an arm around her in a friendly manner. She felt safe in that moment, the scent of coffee and sawdust dulling the ache in her heart. Everything could be fine if she closed her eyes and forgot. But then she would see where she was, and everything would come crashing back down on her.

"You're a good man Jethro." She said, it was barely above a whisper, but he heard it loud and clear.

"And you are going to be an incredible mother Jennifer Shepard."