A/N: Hello, my lovelies! I'm finally back! I hope you're still here and that you're ready for the next installment. On an unrelated note, I'm still reeling from the news that our beloved Mark Harmon is exiting the show, but I wish him nothing but the best! The incident with Sergeant Henry was inspired by an event that happened about a week ago with one of my neighbours. Hope you enjoy!
Gibbs
The scream that pulled him from his sleep had come from close by and as he opened his eyes, Leroy Jethro Gibbs was wildly disoriented. It took him longer than he would have liked to realise that the scream had been Jenny's and when he felt her move beside him, he frowned. She was deeply asleep, her grip on the bed sheets so strong that the blood had drained from her fingers, and when she screamed again, he reached out to touch her shoulder slowly.
"Jen. Jenny, wake up."
Her eyes flew open and when she felt his skin on hers, she jerked away, her green irises bright with fear. She struggled against his touch, shaking her head, and as he moved closer, he kept his voice soft.
"Jen, it's okay. You're safe here."
After a few moments, he saw the recognition flicker in her eyes, and she visibly relaxed, her head falling onto his shoulder.
"I'm sorry, Jethro," she whispered, "I didn't mean to wake you up."
"It's okay," he assured her with a gentle hand on her hair, "Do you want to talk about it?"
Jenny sighed, raising her head to look into his eyes, and when she nodded, her voice was strangely small in the silence.
"Only if you hold me."
He nodded, pulling her into his arms, and as she buried her head in his chest, he could feel her entire body shaking.
"I was at my mother's funeral," she began quietly, "There were hundreds of people there, which should have told me it was a dream, but...anyway, I was walking towards the casket to say goodbye and she suddenly sat up in the coffin. She was still dead, it was like her body had been made into a puppet or a marionette, and she started speaking to me. Her eyes were halfway glued shut, but her voice was somehow still the same. She was giving her own eulogy, and then she stopped, looked right at me, and told me that I'd murdered her. That it was my fault she was dead. I know..."
Jenny paused, taking a long shaking breath, and Gibbs nodded slowly, kissing her hair softly.
"Go on, Jen," he said gently.
"I know it was just a dream, but...I was so scared, Jethro."
He kissed her hair again, tightening his hold on her, and as he reached out to pull the blanket more securely around them, he used his left hand to wipe away the tears that had fallen from her closed eyes.
"You're safe here, Jen. I know you've been having a hard time, and if there's anything I can do to help, please tell me."
Jenny smiled slightly, running her fingers over his chest slowly, giving him a soft kiss.
"You've already done so much. I can never thank you enough. Do you have any idea how much you mean to me?"
He smiled as he kissed her, giving her a smile that made her breath catch in her chest.
"Yeah, I think I've got a pretty good idea."
If anyone would have asked him a year ago what type of music he liked to listen to, Gibbs would have been hard-pressed to give an answer. Never in a million years would he have guessed that he would come to love the sound of soft piano music, gently drifting down the hallway, providing a soothing soundtrack to even the most mundane of activities. In truth, he supposed that his fondness for the music had more to do with the woman who played it than the actual music, but he would have gladly listened to it for hours on end if it meant he could watch her play.
He smiled as he heard her begin a new song, beyond proud of her progress, and when he walked into the living room, she turned around, giving him a warm smile. She'd seemed much more relaxed while she'd been home, and while he knew she was trying to combat the nervousness she felt, she gave no outward sign of distress. She had asked Ducky to run a few tests on her blood and esophagus, and he knew the waiting was driving her insane. Her fingers flew across the keys, her eyes closed as she let the music flow through her hands, and when he leaned over to place a light kiss to the top of her head, she laughed quietly.
"You're doing great, Jen. It's perfect."
She shook her head.
"Not perfect, but I'm definitely getting better. I think I want to start learning more complex songs now."
He nodded, giving her another light kiss, and when she suddenly stopped playing, he frowned, wondering what the problem was.
"Jen?"
She held up her hand, listening intently, and when she stood to retrieve her phone, he suddenly understood. She answered it briskly, running her hand through her hair, and as she listened to the voice on the other end of the line, he realised she was now shaking, though from fear or cold, he didn't know. Hanging up slowly, she looked over at him, her eyes staring at him as though in a daze, and when he called her name, she jumped.
"What is it?"
"That was Ducky. He's on his way over. Says he has something to tell me."
Gibbs reached for her hand, pulling her closer to his chest, and he ran his hand over her hair slowly, his voice low and gentle as he spoke.
"Try not to worry, Jen. I'll be right here."
As comforting as his words were, Jenny didn't look the slightest bit convinced.
Shepard
It didn't escape Ducky's notice that Jenny was clinging tightly to Gibbs' hand as the Scottish doctor sat across from them both on the chair in her living room, her shaking visible even from her position on the couch. He gave them both a tired smile as he looked at the young woman and when he spoke, his voice was undeniably gentle.
"Jennifer, I'm sorry to disturb you on a day off, but I wanted to make you aware of what your latest test results show. Unfortunately, there seems to be a small tear in the lining of your esophagus, undoubtedly caused and exacerbated by the bulimia, which is the cause of the blood you've been seeing. Luckily, it does appear to be a minor tear that should heal itself in time, but I have to stress the importance of not vomiting in the near future. If you continue in the way you have been, it will worsen and may require surgery to fix."
Jenny nodded slowly, though she was staring straight ahead, and as Gibbs smoothed her hair, she didn't move. She still had her death-like grip on his hand, was still shaking like mad, but when Ducky called her name, she didn't so much as glance in his direction.
"Is there any way I can help?" Gibbs asked, looking at the doctor seriously.
"Just be there. If she asks for your support, offer it. If she says she needs space, let her take all the time she needs. It won't be an easy path, for either of you, but I have every confidence that you will both make it through this."
Gibbs ran his thumb over the back of her hand, raising it to his lips and kissing it as Jenny blinked, seeming to come back to reality at the sensation.
"Will you help me, Ducky? At work, I mean."
The doctor nodded, giving her a reassuring smile.
"Of course I will, my dear. You don't even have to ask."
The low vibration of Jenny's phone shattered her concentration, causing her to roll her eyes, and when she pulled it from her pocket, she gave the Scottish doctor an apologetic look.
"Shepard."
"Sorry to bother you on a day off, but I wanted to brief you on our case. You're gonna hear about it anyway. Lance Corporal Amelia Walden and her seventeen-year-old daughter Amber were found murdered in their home, completely slaughtered. The only survivors were her eleven-month-old daughter and ten-year-old son, Michael. We're bringing them both in, but I wanted to give you warning first."
Jenny nodded, closing her eyes slowly as she tried to think.
"Anything else, DiNozzo?"
"Not at the moment."
"Who's taking care of the baby?"
"No one. Well, McGee's holding her right now, but…"
"I'm on my way," she said briskly, hanging up the phone without waiting for a response.
Turning to both Gibbs and Ducky, she shook her head. Gibbs gave her a look that told her without words to be safe, saying nothing as she kissed his cheek and nodded at the older man sitting across from them.
"Well, Ducky…looks like we've got our work cut out for us now."
He sighed, nodding as he stood, brushing off nonexistent dust from his knees.
"So it would seem."
As soon as they made their way off the elevator, Jenny took charge of the situation, reaching for the crying child held in Tim McGee's arms, shushing her gently. The baby's wide, tear-filled eyes locked on her flaming hair, reaching for it in curiosity, and when she tugged on it experimentally, Jenny gave her a smile. Tony DiNozzo was watching her with an awestruck expression as she held the baby in her arms, hardly able to believe what he was seeing, and when Jenny noticed his staring, she sighed, rolling her eyes.
"What, DiNozzo?"
"Just—uh—never thought I'd see you holding a baby, Shep. Kinda weird. But insanely cute."
Jenny rolled her eyes again, shaking her head slowly.
"What do we have so far?"
"Well, the daughter was stabbed twenty times in her abdomen and back, the mother's throat was slit and she had several defensive wounds on her hands. I've never seen anything like it. It was a massacre."
"Weapon?"
"Regular old kitchen knife. Too much blood to get any discernible prints at first glance, but Abby's going to keep trying. Bodies are in autopsy now."
Jenny nodded, smiling when the child in her arms laid her head on the redhead's shoulder, but her smile soon disappeared as another thought occurred to her.
"Where's the son?"
"Restroom. Should be back any second. Agent Grant went with him. You want us to take him to interrogation?"
She nodded again, running her hand over the baby's hair softly.
"Right now, he's our only lead. But be careful. He's going to be fragile for a bit."
Just as she was about to walk away, she stopped, looking at them both in confusion.
"What's her name?"
DiNozzo frowned.
"Who?"
"The baby," Jenny said in exasperation, "who did you think I meant? The ghost standing behind you?"
Nothing could have prepared her for the way the Senior Field Agent whipped around, a look of shock on his face, and Jenny bit down on her lip to keep her laughter at bay.
"Not funny, Shep. Um….her name is Catherine, but everyone calls her Scout. Didn't ask why."
Jenny smiled, looking at the baby as she began walking towards the steps, lightly kissing her cheek as she moved.
"Okay, Scout. Let's go hang out in my office until someone comes to pick you up."
The shocked expressions of her former team were enough to make Jenny laugh all the way up the stairs to her office.
After making a few calls, Jenny was sitting in her office, Catherine on her lap, typing out a reply to some Senator that she had never really bothered to learn the name of, and she smiled as she felt the baby tug on her hair again.
"You're as bad as Jethro, little one," she laughed, shifting her to the other arm.
Catherine stared up at her with wide blue eyes as her phone rang, and when she reached for it, she tried to keep her voice soft enough that it wouldn't startle the baby.
"Shepard."
"Director Shepard, this is Ashley Wagner with Child Protective Services. We've looked into the next of kin for Michael and Catherine Walden, and it looks as though the only living relatives are their maternal grandparents. They've agreed to take the children and are flying out within the next hour."
"Thank you. I assure you that they'll be well cared for until they are released into their custody."
"Thank you, Director Shepard. Have a nice day."
After wishing the woman well, Jenny hung up the phone, turning her attention to the now-sleeping baby in her arms.
"Well, Scout…looks like you get to go live with Grandma and Grandpa."
The silent nestling of the baby closer in her arms was her only answer. She smiled at the movement, so caught up in the moment that she jumped at the ringing of her desk phone, hoping she hadn't woken Catherine.
"Shepard."
"You might want to get down here, Director. DiNozzo's handling the interrogation, but something about it seems off to me. We could use your skills."
"On my way."
Sighing, Jenny stood up, shifting Catherine to her other arm, and as she walked towards the elevator, she tried to ignore the feeling that something was very, very wrong about the entire situation.
Watching DiNozzo as he worked had always been one of Jenny's guilty pleasures, admiring the skills he kept so tightly under wraps as he sat in the interrogation room, and as she handed Catherine over to Ducky, she frowned. There was nothing to suggest that anything was amiss, nothing obviously out of place, and she shook her head as she took a step back from the glass.
"What is it, McGee?"
"I'm not sure. He keeps changing his story. At first, he claimed that he was outside playing in the back yard when he heard his sister and mother start screaming, then he said he was in the upstairs bedroom with the baby when it happened. I asked Ducky if it's possible that he's remembering it wrong because he was in shock, but he said it didn't seem likely."
"He displays none of the outward characteristics of someone in shock, and he's far too controlled," Ducky added, his attention captured by the tiny baby in his arms, "He's as calm as you or I would be playing a game of cards."
"You've never played poker with me, Ducky," Jenny quipped, her eyes narrowing as she observed the young boy.
Ducky laughed quietly and as Jenny took a step closer to him, she reached out to run her fingertips lightly over Catherine's sleeping face. She turned her full attention to the young boy sitting opposite Tony DiNozzo, paying little mind to the agent himself, and as she listened to him recount the events surrounding the incident, she shook her head slowly.
"You're right, McGee. He's lying. The only question is about what. Watch how much he fidgets with his hands when Tony asks him a question."
As soon as DiNozzo finished his line of questioning, Jenny made her way to the interrogation room, opening the door slowly. Michael glanced up at her, his eyes following her every move, and as she gestured for the younger agent to leave the room, he frowned.
"Where's Scout? I want to see her."
"She's safe, don't worry."
"I want to see Scout," Michael repeated.
Jenny gave him a smile, though the agents on the other side of the glass found it to be anything but comforting and shook her head once.
"Michael, I just have a few questions. You said you were in the back yard playing when you heard your mom and Amber screaming, right?"
A nod.
"But after that, you said that you were upstairs. You couldn't have been in two places at once, now could you?"
Michael said nothing, a small smirk playing across his face, and Jenny crossed her legs slowly, daring him to lie to her. It didn't escape her notice that he was now clicking and un-clicking the pen DiNozzo had left sitting on the table, and just as she was about to speak again, there was a low knock on the door, making her turn.
It happened so quickly that none of them had time to react: one moment Michael was sitting in the chair across from Jenny, the next he was directly in front of her, the pen he'd been holding now deeply embedded into her skin just above her collarbone. He pulled it back with surprising speed, plunging it down twice more, leaving the end protruding from her flesh. The door flew open and as DiNozzo pulled Michael away from the redhead, she reached for the pen, wrenching it free as blood began to drip from the wound.
The handcuffs clicked around his wrists and as he was pulled from the small room, Ducky rushed in, pulled out a handkerchief from his pocket, giving it to Jenny with an apologetic look on his face.
"Jennifer, are you alright?"
"Fine," she said through gritted teeth, "but what the hell was that?"
"That, my dear, is what Anthony was knocking on the door to warn you of. The results from Abigail's test came back. Michael's fingerprints were all over the knife handle. Judging by his attack on you and the results of the test, he was the one who murdered our Lance Corporal and her daughter."
Gibbs
Nothing could have prepared him for the pure anger that was radiating from Jenny Shepard as she walked through the parking lot, able to be seen even from where he stood at his window. She was in the hallway of the apartment complex within seconds, her steps quick and erratic, and as soon as he stepped through his door, he gave her a cautious smile.
"How was w—"
"Don't," she interrupted slowly, "not now."
She opened her door quickly, and it wasn't until she walked passed him that he noticed the bandage covering her skin. Without waiting for her invitation, he followed her into the living room, sensing that she didn't want to be alone, and as she shrugged off her coat, he caught sight of the dried blood on her Navy blue shirt, so dark he almost missed it. She gave him a tired look as she poured herself a glass of bourbon, drinking half the contents in one go.
"Jen, what happened?"
"Rough day," she said quietly.
"And you—did you—the purg—"
"No, Jethro," she snapped, her eyes flashing dangerously, "I didn't. I was blindsided. By a fucking child! I thought that I had the situation under control, I thought I'd made the right assessment, but that little bastard took me by surprise. I should have seen it coming."
He frowned, then it suddenly clicked that she was referring to the wound just above her collarbone. He simply stared at her, knowing she needed to work through the emotions spinning around in her mind, and when she spoke again, there was no denying her anger.
"I thought this was a straightforward case of the child being the witness to a horrific crime. I didn't expect that the little fucker was the cause of it! He's lucky I didn't shoot that stupid smirk from his fucking face."
"He attacked you?"
"Stabbed me with a god damned pen," Jenny hissed, shaking her head in anger, "Hurts like a bitch, but I'll be okay. I'm mostly just pissed at myself."
Gibbs shook his head, watching her as she set her glass back down on the table, immediately pouring more bourbon into it.
"You're not a mind reader, Jen. No way you could have known. How bad was it?"
Jenny sighed, taking a long drink of her bourbon, and as she set the glass back down, he noticed her hands were shaking. She slowly pulled the bandage away from her skin, wincing slightly as the adhesive stuck to her, and Gibbs frowned at the wound as it was revealed. He leaned closer, touching the area gently, careful not to apply too much pressure, and she shook her head angrily.
"Never in my life would I have thought that I would be attacked by a child and especially not on my own turf! I feel like such an idiot."
He shook his head, reaching for her hand, holding it between his own for a long moment.
"You're not an idiot," he said gently, "You just put your trust in the wrong person. And it was a child, so no one is going to blame you. I would have done the same thing. Don't be so hard on yourself."
Jenny laughed bitterly, draining the last of the alcohol in her glass, and shook her head slowly.
"That's what I do best, Jethro," she said quietly, "Thought you would have figured that out by now."
Gibbs nodded.
"I have. And I also know that you're a perfectionist and when you fall short, you take things too far."
He stood up, holding out his hand, and as she took it, he pulled her to her feet, leading her to the bedroom. As soon as the door shut behind him, he immediately dimmed all the lights, pulling her into his arms as he laid next to her on the bed. He ran his fingers through her hair softly, kissing her temple, and when she frowned, he gave her a small smile.
"I want you to do something for me, okay?"
"Is this the part where you tell me to just relax and trust you, then I end up covered in hot candle wax?"
He rolled his eyes, shaking his head slowly.
"No. Don't be cute, Jen. I want you to pick something that you like about yourself and tell me about it."
"Jethro, that's—"
"Humour me. Please?"
Jenny sighed, leaning back against his chest, focusing on the rhythmic beating of his heart as she closed her eyes. She was silent for so long that he worried she wasn't going to answer him, but when she finally spoke, her voice was softer than he'd expected.
"I...I guess...I always want to believe the best about people, even if I know the chances aren't that high."
"That's good, Jen. What else?"
"You said just one."
He laughed quietly, nodding as he kissed her cheek, and when she turned in his arms to look at him, she gave him a confused look.
"Why did you want me to do that?"
"Because you need to realise that it's okay to not be perfect. You spend so much time trying to be absolutely perfect and it's killing you. It's okay to let go of control every once in awhile, to just rely on instinct instead of planning every last detail. Everyone falls sometimes and it's not weakness to admit you need help."
She said nothing, taking the time to reflect on his words, and when she finally nodded, she moved closer, kissing him slowly.
"Have I told you lately that I love you?"
He smiled, running his fingers through her hair gently, kissing her again as she reached for the hem of his shirt.
"I love you, too."
Shepard
The ringing of her phone just as she was preparing to leave the office late one Tuesday night made Jenny roll her eyes, and as she answered it, she struggled to keep the annoyance out of her voice.
"Shepard."
"Shep, where are you?"
"My office, why?"
"I need backup."
Jenny shook her head, tapping her fingernail against the wood of her desk slowly, and she sighed.
"And? That's what McGee is for. I'm not a field agent anymore and I—"
"McGee's down, Jenny. Paramedics are on the way. You know I wouldn't ask if I didn't have to. Please. I can't do this one on my own."
As she listened to DiNozzo give her his location, Jenny moved quickly to her desk, grabbing her sidearm and hooking it to her jeans. She assured him she would be there as fast as she could, and as soon as she hung up the phone, she dialed again, walking swiftly to her door.
"Yeah. Gibbs."
"Jethro, I might be home late. DiNozzo called and asked me for backup. Just wanted to give you a heads up."
"Be safe."
She smiled as she made her way down the steps, thankful that nearly everyone in the building had already left for the night.
"I will. I love you."
"I love you, too."
Even as she climbed into her car, Jenny couldn't shake the feeling that something was very wrong.
After checking with the paramedics, Jenny walked up to her former partner, giving him a serious look as the ambulance drove away.
"What happened?"
"About an hour ago, the police got an emergency call from a woman claiming that her boyfriend was going crazy. She said he'd gotten a knife from their kitchen and she'd locked herself in the bathroom. Said he kept screaming about how he should have died for his country when he was overseas and that he was threatening both their lives. By the time we got here, he'd broken down the bathroom door and..."
He paused, taking a deep breath, shaking his head.
"We were too late, Jenny. He completely butchered her. McGee tried to get the knife away from him, and...well, let's just say he's extremely lucky. He's still in there, still rambling about how he should have died for his country and that's what it means to be an American."
Jenny nodded, flashing her badge as she walked up to the dark house, and when she walked through the door, DiNozzo stayed close behind, his weapon raised in anticipation,
"What's his name?"
"Sergeant Jonathan Henry."
She nodded, following the soft voice she could hear coming from the room just down the hall, and when she reached the closed door, she knocked on it softly.
"Jonathan, can you hear me?"
"Who the hell are you? Get away from the door!"
"Jonathan, my name is Jenny Shepard, I work for NCIS. I just want to talk to you. Would you like to tell me what's bothering you?"
"Get away from the door!"
Exchanging a look with DiNozzo, Jenny nodded in the direction of the closed door, and when she aimed her gun at the handle, firing one perfect shot at the lock. Just before she reached to open it, she glanced at DiNozzo, her voice low in the darkness.
"Keep him covered."
He nodded as she opened the door, closing it as soon as the other agent had made it inside, and as she looked at the young man in front of her, Jenny felt her heart shatter. He looked as though he hadn't slept in days, his clothing haggard and worn, his hair unkempt, and it was clear he was suffering an intense mental breakdown. She took a cautious step closer, her weapon still in her hands, and kept her voice gentle as she spoke.
"Jonathan, we're just here to help you."
"You can't help me. I should have died for my country! I'm not supposed to be here! I'm worthless without being a true American!"
Jenny shook her head, taking another step closer, slowly lowering her gun and placing it back in its holster. She knew DiNozzo would be able to make the shot if needed, and if it helped the other man view her as a non-threat, she would gladly take the risk.
"You did your part, Sergeant. You served your country and did everything they asked of you. You did your best, and that's what matters."
Henry shook his head, the knife in his hand tracing patterns along his own skin, and when she noticed this, Jenny took another step, thankful he was preoccupied.
"You need to get some help and we're going to get it for you. But you have to put the knife down. Can you do that?"
"You don't understand. I should have died like the rest of my men. They were true Americans, they sacrificed their lives for their country. They did the right thing."
She was close enough now that she could see the tears in his eyes, and as she moved again, she slowly began to reach for his shoulder, her fingers touching him gently. He jerked away, his eyes wide, and she wasn't fast enough to dodge the flash of silver that sliced into her cheek.
"Don't touch me!" he screamed.
Before she could step back, his left hand was around her throat and his right swung the knife again, cutting the skin of her cheek once more. She faintly heard the sound of a gunshot and while Henry flinched as the bullet entered his shoulder, it wasn't enough to stop him from driving the blade of his knife deeply into the skin of her shoulder, close to where she'd been attacked by Michael Walden a week earlier.
She closed her eyes in pain and as the knife was raised again, she managed to position her hands between her body and the blade, fighting the urge to scream as she felt the white-hot pain in her palms. Another gunshot rang out in the chaos, this time enough to cause him to fall away from her, and as DiNozzo kicked the knife away from his hand, Henry screamed.
Aiming a well-placed kick to Henry's head, DiNozzo couldn't help the relief that he felt when the other man's eyes closed, and he immediately ran to Jenny, kneeling next to her.
"Shep, you okay?"
She coughed, unable to speak through the burning pain of her throat, and as he pulled her to her feet, he pressed his hand into the wound on her shoulder.
"Let's get out of here. Local LEOs can take care of him now."
She nodded, feeling her head begin to spin, and as they walked out into the darkness, she leaned against him heavily. He led her out to the car, nodding at one of the officers as they passed, and as the remaining paramedics came closer to examine her, Jenny looked up at DiNozzo, her eyes bright with pain.
"Tony, will you—" she broke off, coughing harshly as she was helped onto the stretcher, "will you call Jethro? His number is—" another painful cough, "—in my phone."
DiNozzo nodded and as she was lifted into the ambulance, he shook his head sadly. This was not how he'd thought the night was going to go...
The first thing she was aware of when her eyes opened was the fogginess surrounding everything and when her eyes finally adjusted, she realised she recognised the figure sitting in the chair next to her bed, and she took a slow breath, her eyes watering at the harsh pain in her throat.
"Ducky?"
He turned, giving her a warm smile, and as he moved closer, she noticed that his eyes held a worry that she'd not seen in quite awhile.
"What's wrong?" she asked hoarsely, "Is McGee okay? Is he—"
"Timothy is fine, my dear. A few stitches and he was well on his way. I think he's been sitting in the waiting room for the past thirty minutes, though. It was you we were all concerned about. That knife wound you sustained was extremely deep, and for a moment, we weren't sure of the outcome. Your young man is on his way here as we speak, and Anthony is outside with the police giving a statement. You gave us quite a scare, Jennifer. Please try to avoid that in the future."
Jenny gave him a weak smile, nodding slowly, but she frowned when she felt the stitches holding her skin together and reached up to touch her face gently.
"How bad is this, Ducky?"
He frowned, leaning closer to examine the damage, and as his trained eyes looked at the cuts, he shook his head.
"I've certainly seen worse, but I am afraid this will scar. It's difficult to know the extent until the stitches are removed, but I would be hopeful if I were you."
Jenny nodded slowly, not entirely convinced, and he kissed her forehead softly, his eyes kind as he looked into hers.
"Don't worry, Jennifer. You're still undeniably beautiful."
Though he didn't know it, those were the best words the Scottish doctor could have given her at that moment.
Gibbs
Tony DiNozzo was the first person Leroy Jethro Gibbs saw when he walked into the hospital waiting room and he immediately walked up to the younger man, his expression serious as he came to a sudden stop.
"What happened, DiNozzo?"
As Tony began to recount the events to the marine, Gibbs noticed that McGee was sitting in a chair not far off, his eyes locked on the ground, and this made the older man frown as he walked closer.
"You should have seen her," DiNozzo added proudly, "She was a total badass."
Gibbs nodded.
"That's why she's the Director," he answered simply.
Turning to the younger agent, Gibbs sat down in the chair next to him, placing a hand on his shoulder, his eyes staring at the agent even though he refused to look up.
"Something wrong, McGee?"
McGee sighed, shaking his head slowly.
"This is all my fault," he said quietly, "If I hadn't gotten hurt, Jenny would have never been there. I should have stopped him, should have—"
"Listen, Tim: it isn't your fault. You didn't know he was going to attack you any more than Jenny did. And if I know anything about Jenny, it's that she would die to protect the people she loves. DiNozzo doesn't blame you, I don't blame you, and Jenny doesn't, either. So don't blame yourself."
McGee's eyes were still on the floor and it wasn't until he blinked that Gibbs realised he was holding back tears.
"Jenny almost died because of me."
"Tim, look at me," Gibbs requested quietly.
After several long moments, the younger man raised his eyes to Gibbs' and the marine gave him a stern look.
"None of this was your fault. Jenny's going to be just fine and the Sergeant is going to get the help he needs. They're going release her from the hospital soon, and you'll see for yourself."
McGee nodded, giving him a weak smile, and Gibbs returned it, his hand still on the younger man's shoulder.
"Thanks, Gibbs."
"Anytime, Tim."
Hours later, long after her work family had gone home, Jenny was close to sleep, clinging to Gibbs' hand as he sat in the chair next to her bed, and she gave him a tired but curious look as he ran his other hand over her hair.
"Jethro?"
"Hm?"
"When you came back from Kuwait...did you experience any kind of PTSD?"
He frowned, considering her question carefully, and nodded slowly as he ran his thumb over the back of her hand.
"In a way, yes. When I came back, I was still in shock over losing Shannon and Kelly. Everything else paled in comparison. But being in combat...it changes you. Forever. You're never the same person you were before you left. The things I saw, the things I was forced to do, those aren't things you come back from. It took a long time for me to be able to even think about smiling or feeling happy again."
Jenny nodded, blinking slowly, and her next question was so soft he almost didn't hear it.
"Do you regret it?"
"No," he answered finally, "Everything happens for a reason and even losing Shannon and Kelly may have been a blessing in the bigger picture."
"What?" she asked, her voice betraying her disbelief, "Jethro, you don't mean that."
He nodded, kissing her hand lightly.
"Yeah, I do. I wasn't the same person they knew when I came back. I was colder, distant, easier to anger. Still am. I don't think Shannon and I would have made it in the long run, and she and Kelly deserved better than that. I'm glad they didn't live to see what I've become."
Jenny's eyes met his slowly, hazy from the medication coursing through her veins, and she smiled slightly as she raised up to kiss him, running her free hand through his hair.
"I don't know," she said quietly, "I'm quite fond of the person you've become."
He smiled, kissing her one final time before she fell asleep, still running his fingers over the skin of her hand softly.
"Right back at you, Jen," he said gently.
A/N: PTSD is no laughing matter and is not exclusive to military personnel. If you or someone you know is struggling, please reach out. There is no shame in seeking help.
