A/N: This will likely be my last update for awhile, since I'm working 7 days a week. That being said, I hope you enjoy this latest chapter!


Shepard

The day that Jennifer Shepard confided in Doctor Donald Mallard about the bulimia (God, she hated even thinking the word) that had overtaken her life came about through no volition of her own, and at the insistence of Anthony DiNozzo, who all but physically carried her down to the autopsy room. It had started as a perfectly normal day for her, sorting through the hundred-plus emails she'd received over the weekend, trying to make sense of even one of them, and when there was a knock on her door, she glanced up, giving the young agent a smile as he held up his hand in greeting.

"Morning, Red."

"DiNozzo," she answered with a quiet laugh at the nickname, "Might I inquire as to why you've graced me with your presence at not even seven in the morning?"

He stared at her as though she'd gone insane and stepped into the room, holding out the hand that had previously been hidden behind his back. She tilted her head in confusion, and he sighed, shaking his own in mock annoyance.

"Shep, it's your birthday! I brought you a birthday muffin."

Now it was Jenny's turn to look at him as though he'd lost his mind.

"A birthday muffin?" she repeated, "I highly doubt that's even a thing."

"Sure it is, Jenny! Come on, I spent a whole two dollars of my hard-earned money on this! Please?"

Finally, she nodded at him, taking it from him slowly, and when she took the smallest bite imaginable, he shook his head, meeting her eyes seriously.

"I'm going to be deeply offended if that's all you eat of it. And don't think I won't come rifle through your bins later."

One look at his face told her just how serious he was and she took a larger bite, knowing that he was watching her to make sure she swallowed it. Her hands were shaking as she reached for the offending pastry and though he felt somewhat guilty for the way he was forcing her into this, he knew it was his only option right now. Slowly, she made her way through the muffin, each bite harder to swallow than the last, and after she'd finished it, she gave him a look that was both angry and defeated.

"Better?"

He nodded, standing and making his way to the door, turning just before he reached it, his eyes slightly sad.

"Happy birthday, Shep."


As soon as she thought the coast was clear, Jenny stood from her desk, fully intending to purge the offensive muffin from her body, and when she opened her office door, she very nearly screamed. Tony DiNozzo was standing just outside her office, arms folded across his chest, his expression carefully crafted, and when her eyes met his, she quickly looked away, unable to handle their intensity.

"Where are you going in such a hurry, Madame Director?"

"I fail to see how that is any of your business, Agent DiNozzo," she answered just as coolly, "but if you don't mind, it is rather important."

He stared at her for a fraction of a second before looping her arm through his, pulling her down the hall only slightly roughly, and though every instinct was telling her to pull away and run, she knew that doing so would only cause a scene. To the casual observer, nothing was amiss, and as they made their way to the elevator, DiNozzo spoke in that carefully light tone he'd managed to perfect over years of interrogation.

"Oh, but I do mind, Director Shepard. See, Doctor Mallard has something on our latest case, and I really think it's something you should be aware of."

As soon as the lift doors closed behind them, Jenny knew she was trapped, and she pulled away from him, smacking his arm as she glared at him.

"What the hell do you think you're doing, DiNozzo?"

"How stupid do you think I am? Come on, Jenny. You don't really think I would just let this one go, do you? If you won't help yourself, then I'm going to be forced to do it for you, no matter how much you might not want me to."

"I'm fine," she protested, but it sounded weak even to her.

"Are you? Is that why you're shaking? Or is it because you haven't been able to throw up that muffin, and you're seconds away from someone other than me knowing, which scares the hell out of you?"

"No," she tried again, "I—"

"If you say you're fine one more time, I'm gonna throw you over my shoulder and carry you."

"I'm your boss, DiNozzo, I could—"

"You're also my friend," he interrupted gently, "Don't you understand that? I'm not going to let you die if I can stop it."

He took her arm again just as the lift stopped, and as he pulled her along the hallway, Jenny tried to think of any way she could possibly get out of this conversation, anything she could say to make the doctor believe her and not the agent who had forcibly brought her here. The doors slid open, and though Ducky initially gave them both a smile as they entered, it quickly disappeared when he noticed the seriousness of DiNozzo's expression and Jenny's pale skin.

"Jennifer," he greeted cautiously, "Anthony. What brings you both down here so early in the day?"

Jenny said nothing, staying silent even when DiNozzo nudged her with his arm, and he rolled his eyes, though she couldn't see him from where she stood.

"Need you to run some tests and keep it need to know," DiNozzo said.

"On which one of you? I can only assume as much, given your presence, and lack of a case."

Looking pointedly at Jenny, DiNozzo caught the doctor's eye from over her shoulder and nodded once in her direction.

"Jennifer, is everything alright?"

Still she said nothing, and this time, DiNozzo's forward shove was hard enough that she stumbled, turning around to glare at the young man.

"DiNozzo!"

"Talk to him."

"Okay, fine. Ducky, how is your mother doing? I haven't heard from her in awhile, and I was—"

"Don't be cute, Shep," DiNozzo said angrily, "Talk. To. Him. You tell him, or I will."

Now Ducky was beginning to get concerned and as he looked at the younger woman in front of him, he realized there were tears shining in her emerald eyes.

"Jennifer? What is it, my dear?"

"I…she paused, taking a deep breath, "I need for you to check for any tears or abrasions on my esophagus. Anything that could be caused or exacerbated by vomiting. Please."

"May I ask why? This isn't something I would normally think to look for in someone of your age and health. You aren't a smoker, you don't have a history of bulimia—"

DiNozzo coughed, catching the doctor's attention, and when he nodded at Jenny again, Ducky's eyes suddenly softened, and he took a step closer, his eyes meeting hers slowly.

"I see. Well, I'll certainly take a look, though I will warn you that it isn't a pleasant test to have done. If you would, please sit on one of the tables please, Jennifer."

DiNozzo moved to leave the room, giving them the privacy he knew she wanted, but it didn't escape Ducky's notice that the younger man laid his hand on Jenny's shoulder before he left, making her smile in spite of the seriousness of the situation.

"It was considerate of young Anthony to come with you today," Ducky asked, trying to lighten the mood, "You haven't started sleeping with him again, have you?"

Jenny shook her head as she hopped up on the table, laughing quietly.

"Not in a million years. He noticed something was wrong and he cornered me until I told him. He's the only person besides you that knows. I don't…I don't know how to tell Jethro and even if I did, I don't want him to worry about me. I can handle myself."

Ducky frowned as he gestured for her to tilt her head back, looking at her seriously.

"It doesn't make you weak to ask for help, you know. And whether you do tell Jethro or you don't, he's still going to worry. We always worry about people we love."

Jenny sighed, opening her mouth as he instructed, fighting against the urge to cough as the small scope was placed into her throat, and she stayed as still as she possibly could while he worked, not wanting to make a mess of things more than she already had. It seemed to last an eternity, though she knew it had only been a few minutes, and when it was finally over, Jenny began coughing harshly, closing her eyes as they began to water.

"I am sorry, my dear. I'll have a look at these shortly, and let you know as soon as I have a definitive answer. In the meantime, why don't you go up to your office and try to relax?"

She nodded, carefully hopping down from the table, and just when she reached the doors, she heard his voice, making her pause,

"Jennifer, if you ever want to talk about this…please know that my door is always open."


Gibbs

Today was the day: the day he was finally going to get Jenny to tell him exactly what had been bothering her for the better part of two months, and he'd be damned if he let himself get distracted by her this time. He hated feeling as though he was pushing her, demanding that she talk to him, but there was something going on that had changed her, had taken away the sarcastic, confident woman he'd once known and turned her into this distant, withdrawn shell of a human being. And he was bound and determined to find out just exactly it was.

He caught her just outside her apartment as she was coming home from work, and though she gave him a smile, it didn't quite reach her eyes, and he frowned. She didn't say anything as he walked closer, making him feel even worse, and when he gave her a welcoming kiss, he noticed how her response was only halfhearted.

"You okay?"

"Fine."

He knew she was lying and he frowned again, moving to take her arm.

"Jen, what's wrong? I know something's bothering you, but I can't help you if I don't know what it is."

She met his eyes slowly, nodding when she realised he wasn't going to back down, and placed her key into the lock, indicating that he should follow her. When they'd made it into her living room, Jenny sat down on the couch, twisting her hands nervously in her lap, and when Gibbs took one in his own, she jumped slightly.

"Jen, please."

She took a deep breath, shaking her head, and when she wasn't able to meet his gaze, he frowned, wondering what could possibly be so bad.

"I...I think I have a problem."

He nodded encouragingly, giving her hand a gentle squeeze.

"Does this have anything to do with the marks on the back of your hand?"

Jenny sighed, nodding slowly.

"You noticed."

"I notice a lot more than you think. You've started drinking way more water than you used to, especially during dinner, you always look like you want to murder someone when you're eating now...talk to me. Tell me the truth. I promise I'm not going to judge you."

"I've...I've been...I think I might be..."

She broke off, her entire body shaking, and he wrapped his arm around her, kissing her hair softly.

"It's okay, Jen. You don't have to say the word."

Jenny shook her head, her eyes angry as she looked at him finally.

"No, I do. I need to be able to say it! I just...saying it makes it so real, and I...I don't know if I can handle that."

He kissed her again, running his fingers through her hair, giving her a smile.

"You're so much stronger than you realise," he whispered, "and you can do this."

Jenny's emerald eyes met his sapphire blue, one pair of eyes so filled with fear that it was almost palapable, the other a sea of compassion, and finally she nodded, tightening her hold on his hand.

"I have an eating disorder," she said slowly, blinking, her tears dripping onto their entwined fingers.

He nodded, running his thumb over her skin slowly, the sensation giving her more comfort than she realised she'd needed, and looked at her seriously.

"Go on."

"I'm...I'm a bulimic."

"What else?"

"I...I need help. I don't think I can do this alone anymore."

She fell forward into his arms, burying her head in his chest, her tears dampening his shirt, and he held her as close to his body as he could, kissing her hair over and over in an attempt to calm her.

"You don't have to do this alone. I promise. I'll help you as long as it takes, and I'll never give up on you."

As much as she didn't want to, Jenny found herself daring to believe in him.


It took Jenny longer than she would have liked to admit to notice that he was watching her, finally picking up on the way his eyes tracked each time she reached for her water glass, and as she took a tentative bite of the food in front of her, he nodded. She swallowed it slowly and as he took a bite of his own, he looked at her pointedly.

"Take it slow. You don't need to rush."

Jenny said nothing, reaching for her water again, and he shook his head, giving her a stern stare.

"Put it back."

"What, I'm not allowed to drink water while I eat?" she snapped, knowing her anger had nothing to do with him and everything to do with the situation.

"Not that often. I know what you're doing. Finish what's left and then come sit with me in the living room."

She nodded, slowly pushing the last remaining forkfuls of food around her plate, and when she had finally finished them, he pushed his chair back from the table, holding out his hand. She took it, allowing him to steer her in the proper direction, and when he pulled her down onto the couch, he frowned. She was shaking like mad, her hands clenched tightly in her lap, and he looked at her seriously as she began tapping her foor on the floor.

"Jen?"

She didn't answer, still shaking, and when he reached for her hand, she pulled away, shaking her head.

"Don't touch me."

He was just about to respond when she stood suddenly, bolting for the bathroom, and though he knew this time it was unintentional, he still felt his heart sink when he heard her being violently sick, closing his eyes slowly. This was going to be much harder than he thought...


"God, Jethro, I can't do this..."

He tightened his hold on her, keeping her from leaving the room, and as she laid in his arms, hot tears began to fall from behind her closed eyes.

"I can't do this. It was too much. Please, just let me—"

"No. That would defeat the purpose," he told her sternly, "You can do this. I promise. It won't be easy, but you can get through this."

Jenny closed her eyes again, gripping his shirt with white fingers as her body shook with the restraint of not running from the room, and he kissed her cheek, gently combing through her slightly tangled hair. He frowned when she sat up suddenly, her head falling into her hands, and as she moaned quietly, he ran his hand over her back, hoping he was providing even a small measure of comfort.

"Just once, Jethro. Please."

"Jen...that isn't the answer. I want you to do something for me, okay?"

Waiting to make sure he had her full attention, he nodded, reaching for her hand as he spoke.

"Once a week. We'll start this slow. I want you to eat one meal a week and not throw it up. Can you do that?"

She was silent for a long moment, considering his request, and she sighed, shaking her head.

"Can I promise to try?"

He nodded.

"You have to legitimately try, though. No half-assing it. Understood?"

Jenny nodded, still clinging to his hand, and when he leaned closer to kiss her, he gave her an encouraging smile.

"Once a week, Jen. You can do this."


Shepard

Jenny would have known the woman in front of her anywhere: the long red hair, the kind blue eyes, the warm smile, it could only be one person, and as she sat down on the couch next to her, she felt the woman wrap her arms around her in a hug, making her smile more than she had in months.

"Jenny...it's so nice to see you. It's been so terribly lonely without you."

As she hugged her mother, Jenny felt her eyes begin to fill with tears, looking at her as though she would never be able to get enough, and she met her blue eyes, trying to smile through the pain ripping her heart in two.

"I miss you so much, Mom."

Madelyn kissed her cheek, running her fingers under her eyes to catch her tears and gave her another smile.

"I miss you too, Jenny. But you know, this is really all your fault. You did this."

Jenny frowned, confused by the change in her mother's tone, and shook her head as she tried to understand.

"What are you talking about?"

"You made all the decisions. It's your fault that I died. Just like it's your fault that Heather died. You were our family, you should have been there for us. I don't even get to see her beacsue she's trapped down in Hell, and it's all your fault."

Jenny turned away from her mother, only to find herself facing Heather, blood pouring from her wrists, and she bit back a scream as the younger girl walked closer to her.

"Look at the damage you've caused, Jenny. Letting me die wasn't enough for you, was it? You had to get rid of Mom, too? We loved you and this is how you repay us?"

Heather grabbed her wrist, jerking her closer, and when she placed a razor blade into her hand, her eyes were colder than Jenny had ever seen them.

"How can you live with yourself? You don't deserve to live. Do the right thing, Jenny."

Jenny screamed as she opened her eyes, forgetting for a moment that she was alone, that she was in her bed, and when her eyes finally adjusted to the darkness, she took a deep breath, shaking her head. There were fresh tears streaking down her face, and she angrily wiped them away, trying to control the shaking in her hands. If this was any indication of how her day was going to go, she wanted no part of it. None at all.


To Jenny's immense relief, Ducky's tests had shown no sign of lasting damage, and as she sat behind her desk, she fought the urge to run to the nearest restroom. She took a long drink from the water bottle in front of her before she admitted to herself that it was no use, and when she stood up from her chair, she pulled her hair back into a ponytail. The sooner she got this over with, the better.

Thankfully, no one saw her as she made her way to the empty restroom, and as she knelt in front of the porcelain bowl, she took a deep breath to prepare herself. Over and over again, her fingers plunged to the back of her throat, each time making her stomach heave, and it wasn't until she saw the telltale sign of blood in the swirling contents that she even considered stopping. She used her left hand to flush away the evidence, stopping to wash her hands thoroughly, and as she used a paper towel to clean some of her running eyeliner, she felt strangely relieved.

She walked back to her office with steady steps, no longer shaking with the need to get to her destination as fast as she could, and when she sat back down at her desk, she felt only the slightest hint of guilt. She'd made a promise to Gibbs that she would try once a week, and though the week wasn't yet over, Jenny knew it had been a useless promise. There was no way, unless he forced her to, that she would be able to stop. She simply couldn't stand the feeling of food sitting in her stomach, and there was no point in pretending otherwise.

She still had no idea how she'd gotten here, why she had chosen this particular aveue to control her life, but she had to give herself credit. At least she hadn't gone back to her old habits of not eating altogether. That was surely much more dangerous than what she was doing...wasn't it? At least she was still getting even a few calories from what little food managed to stay in her system. That was better than starving herself like she had in high school, right?

Even as she was convincing herself of this, she knew Gibbs, Ducky, even DiNozzo...they would all be so disappointed in her right now. Not that she'd ever really cared about how people saw her, but their opinions mattered to her. Gibbs and Ducky because she loved them and DiNozzo, well, she supposed in a way, she loved him, too. They were friends as well as colleagues, and she had never been one to actively disappoint her friends, family, or lovers.

As she was typing out a reply to a senator, her thoughts a million miles away, there was a low knock on her door, and she sighed, pulling her glasses from her face.

"Come in."

Tony DiNozzo stuck his head around the door, looking at her with an expression that could only be described as trepidation, and she fought the urge to laugh.

"You wanted to see me?"

She nodded, beckoning him in, and as he walked closer, she could tell that he was nervous.

"Am I being fired?"

Now she did laugh, shaking her head as he sat down in the chair opposite her desk.

"No, Tony. On the contrary. I wanted to congratulate you on closing your last case so quickly. You and McGee are doing great work out there, and I just wanted you to know how proud I am of you. Both of you. You're doing exceptionally well as team leader, and I couldn't be happier with your performance."

He sat there silently for a long moment, and when he finally looked up at her, she was surprised by the suspicious look in his eyes.

"You're joking, right? Shep, I know you. You don't give out compliments, you throw sarcastic comments and challenge us to do better by pissing us off so that we work harder."

She laughed.

"While you're right, I can't really do that now. I have to remain professional, and telling you that I would have solved the case in half the time which means you need to get your ass in gear and step it up isn't exactly doing that."

He frowned and she beckoned him closer, leaning forward on the desk.

"I am proud of you both. But I know you're capable of more than this, so get your shit together, or I'll step down and come back to straighten your ass out. Understood?"

DiNozzo smiled, nodding at her.

"That's the Jenny I know."

She gave him a smile, sitting back in the chair slowly, and as she dismissed him, she called his name, waiting for him to turn.

"Send McGee up when you get back."

"You got it, Red."


Gibbs

As soon as he tasted the flavour of peppermint on her tongue, Leroy Jethro Gibbs was immediately furious. He'd learned, over the course of the last two weeks, that the taste of mouthwash was always a sure sign that Jenny had purged that day and he'd tasted it on every single one. He was angry with the situation, angry with himself for believing her lies day after day, but mostly he was angry with her for not even trying. He knew he couldn't honestly blame her, knew it wasn't her fault, but he couldn't stop the rage from making his blood boil.

She noticed at once that his mood had shifted, and when she questioned him about it, he knew he had to tread carefully. He didn't want to yell at her and turn this into a national disaster.

"How long did you think you could get away with lying to me every day?"

Well, so much for caution.

"What?" she asked, tilting her head in confusion.

"Don't pretend like you're innocent. You've thrown up every day for the past two weeks and if you think I haven't noticed, you're wrong."

She said nothing, proving her guilt in his eyes, and when she looked at him, he could tell she was slowly getting angry herself, though he had no idea why. He was the one being lied to, after all.

"Jethro, I—"

"No, Jen. I asked you to try. Just once a week and you agreed to it. You promised me that you wouldn't half-ass it, and you're doing just that. You're not even trying and that's a slap in the face to everyone who cares about you."

She glared at him, her eyes locking onto his angrily, and when she shook her head, he noticed that her eyes were bright with tears.

"You don't know how hard it is!" she practically screamed, stepping away from him, "I've tried everything I can, but I don't know what to do. If you have any suggestions other than just stopping all at once, I'm open to hearing them. Do you think I enjoy this? I hate every part of this, I hate feeling so out of control, I hate that I can't just be normal, I hate the way I'm hurting you, Ducky, hell, even Tony...I hate myself for being so fucking pathetic and weak, I—"

"Wait, hold on," he moved closer, putting his hands on her shoulders, stopping her from pulling away, "Jen, go back. You hate yourself? Why?"

She shook her head, trying to pull out of his hold, but he refused to let go, keeping her still.

"I...Jethro, everyone in the world hates people like me. Everyone always feels so sorry and worried for the anoretics, the people who are so visibly sick, but no one ever worries about bulim—people like me. Why would they? We're disgusting, we're out of control, we're—"

"You're just as deserving of help as they are. Just because you can't physically see your illness, that doesn't mean that you're any less sick. You're not disgusting, you're battling an addiction, and you're going to beat it. It won't be easy, but you can do this. You're right that I don't know how hard it is for you, I've never gone through what you're going through, but I am willing to help in any way I can."

He wrapped her in his arms, holding her as close to him as she would allow, and kissed her hair, inhaling the scent of her perfume.

"I'll do whatever it takes to help. Even if I have to stay with you after every single meal. I promise."

"I couldn't ask you to—"

"You're not," he assured her with a light kiss, "I'm offering, and if you refuse my help, I might get highly offended and shoot you."

Hearing her words from so long ago repeated back to her made Jenny smile, and as she raised up to kiss him properly, she shook her head in amusement.

"I love you."

"I love you, too."


He knew, as he watched her, that she was fighting the urge to run from the room, and as he reached for the stack of records she had sitting against the player, he frowned.

"You mind if I play this?"

She shook her head, not even really listening, and he smiled as he picked up the first record he found, placing it on the turntable carefully. It wasn't music he himself would have ever chosen, he wasn't much for classical music unless Kelly was the one playing it, but if it would help even in the slightest to distract her, he would give it a shot. It wasn't long before he noticed that she seemed to relax slightly as she began to actually pay attention to the music, and when he saw that her fingers were absentmindedly moving with the notes of the piano, he smiled.

"Do you play?"

She shook her head again, slightly embarrassed.

"No. I took a few lessons in high school, but I don't have the coordination of my left hand to really play. I just air play. Badly."

She laughed slightly and he smiled as a sudden idea came to him. If he could just keep it to himself long enough to prevent her from finding out before he was ready...


"Leroy Jethro Gibbs, if you don't take your hands off my face in the next two minutes, I'll remove your internal organs in alphabetical order."

He laughed, not the least bit concerned with her threat, and when he finally stopped walking, Jenny shook her head, still trying to throw off his hands. Once she'd finally stopped trying, he released her, watching as she blinked, and she frowned, turning to look at him with a look of confusion so strong that it was comical.

"What in the hell is that?"

"It's a keyboard, Jen. Thought you were smarter than that."

"Watch it, marine. I'm not above shooting you, no matter how much I love you."

"Uh huh...sure, Jen. But look, I bought you a nice gift, and this is the thanks I get? How disappointing..."

"I told you that I don't know how to play."

He nodded.

"I know. But I have an idea. Every day, for an hour after each meal, you can try learning a piece of music. Kill two birds with one stone."

Jenny wasn't sure of his idea, that much was apparent, but she nodded nonetheless, and gave him a kiss as she stepped into the apartment.

"Is this staying in your place or mine?"

"Mine," he answered instantly, "That way I can keep an eye on you."

Well, she'd said she was open to any suggestions, so Jenny was forced to admit that he'd given her an option. No matter how ridiculous it seemed.


Watching Jenny from the corner of his eye as she sat behind the keyboard had now become Gibbs' favourite pasttime, trying his hardest to fight the urge to laugh each time she slammed her hands down on the keys in frustration. She hadn't been lying when she'd said she had no coordination with her left hand, and it was this more than anything that annoyed her, making her glare at him on more than one occasion, her eyes daring him to speak.

"What part of this is supposed to help me?" she snapped, gesturing broadly at the keys, "All it's doing is pissing me off."

He wisely said nothing, taking a long drink of his bourbon, and when she realised he was going to willfully ignore her, she sighed, turning back to the keys angrily. She was too stubborn to give up just because she'd hit a wall, but she was beyond irritated at this point, her eyes burning with angry tears.

"Got a suggestion, Jen."

She rolled her eyes but looked at him over her shoulder anyway, waiting.

"Try playing music that you like. Pick a song and break it down bit by bit. It might even be fun that way."

Thinking over his suggestion carefully, Jenny finally nodded, reaching for her phone as she pulled up a song that she'd always loved and wanted to learn how to play.

"You're going to get sick of this song," she told him bluntly.

"Nah, I'll buy ear plugs if it starts to bother me."

In truth, he loved watching her, loved the look of determination in her eyes as she began picking the song apart, and he didn't think he could ever grow tired of looking at her.


Shepard

Jenny slammed her fingers down on the ivory keys so hard that they rattled, swearing loudly as she tried to keep herself from completely giving up. She'd gained a new level of respect for the artists she'd been learning, as this was proving to be one of the more challenging things she'd ever attempted, but it was still more than a little frustrating. Glancing down at her watch, she realised that over an hour had passed since she'd sat down at the keyboard, and she looked at Gibbs with shocked eyes, her head shaking.

"I did it, Jethro."

He frowned.

"Did what?"

"Made it an hour. And I didn't even think about it. Not once."

He nodded, holding out his hand as she stood up, making her way across the living room.

"Knew you could. But you know this is only going to work when you're here. What are you going to do at work?"

Her face fell and she laid her head on his shoulder as she joined him on the couch, sighing slowly.

"I don't know," she admitted.

"Would it help if you called me? I can always move my lunch around. My boss doesn't really care what time I take it."

She shook her head, closing her eyes tiredly.

"I doubt it. Can we talk about this later?"

"Jen, we—"

"I know, but please? I'm exhausted, and I just want to get out of my head for a bit."

He nodded, running his hand through her hair, and as she raised up to look at him, he gave her an encouraging smile.

"You've done so well the past few days. I'm proud of you."

She didn't think he could have said anything more special if he'd tried.


As soon as she swallowed the last bite of her food, Jenny knew there was no going back, and she quickly stood from her chair, making her way into the hallway. She swore when she nearly collided with Ducky, who was holding several files in his hands, and he gave her a concerned look as she bolted past him.

"Jennifer, are you alright?"

She nodded, not even turning around as she did so, and when he realised that she'd just entered the women's restroom, he suddenly understood, making his way to her office quietly. If she wasn't going to willingly come to him, he would simply wait her out. Seemed like a wonderful idea to him. After all, he was a doctor, so who better than to talk to about a medical problem?

As it turned out, he didn't have to wait long, and when she returned to her office, her eyes widened as she noticed him sitting in the chair opposite her deak.

"Ducky. Is something wrong?"

He frowned.

"I should ask you the same question. You're the one who just threw up in the restroom."

Jenny raised her eyebrow as she walked to sit in her chair, crossing her legs gracefully.

"That's incredibly presumptuous of you, Doctor Mallard."

He shook his head, looking at her seriously.

"Not at all, my dear. I can see the slight swelling of your throat from here. I am not a stupid man, Jennifer. Do not treat me as such."

Jenny's eyes widened as she shook her head, her words rushed.

"Ducky, I didn't mean—"

"Then why are you lying to me? You must have believed you could get away with it, otherwise you would have told me the truth. I originally came here to discuss my findings on DiNozzo's latest case, but now I want to know the truth. How often are you throwing up? Once a week? Twice? Daily? More than daily? I'm not leaving your office until you tell me."

Jenny could see that he was deadly serious and finally she nodded, wishing she was somewhere, anywhere else.

"Sometimes three times a day," she whispered, "It depends on if I'm working or not. If not, I don't do it as often. Jethro's been helping to distract me."

"How so?"

"He bought me a keyboard. I'm learning how to play, so every day that I'm home, after each meal, I go to his place for an hour and practice. An hour is enough time for me to calm down and not want to...you know, so I practice until the hour is up."

"And when you're here?"

"I can't exactly leave work to go play the piano, Ducky. And even if I could, I wouldn't. I...I don't think I'm ready for that. It's hard enough doing it twice a week. It's killing me, and all I want to do each time is throw up. You have no idea how hard this is."

Ducky's eyes were kind as he looked at her, reaching across the table to take her hand, and he gave her a sad smile as their eyes met.

"You're right, I don't. But I do know how strong you are, and you can recover from this, given enough time. I know you can. But, you might not be able to do it alone. Have you considered getting treatment from a medical professional?"

Her head shook and she frowned as she looked at him.

"Why would I do that? What can they do that I can't with the help of other people?"

"Maybe nothing, but it's something you might want to consider if you feel as though you're not able to make progress on your own."

"No, Ducky. Absolutely not. Can you imagine the scandal?"

"Jennifer, your health is more important than—"

"My health is fine, Ducky. Yours, however, might take a turn for the worst if you don't let me handle this in my own way."

He took the hint, nodding at her once before standing, and when he reached the door, he turned, looking at her with a mixture of sadness and pity.

"You know where to find me should you need anything. Best of luck, my dear."

As the door closed behind him, Jenny hated herself more than she had since her mother's death.


A/N: Did you catch the quote from season 5 in this one? I modified it a bit, but the bones are there.