The morning sun cast a sombre glow through the windows of the Gibbs house. Jethro stood in silence, staring at the emptiness that echoed through the rooms, the absence of his father's presence palpable. Shannon, who had always been an anchor for him, approached him with a gentle touch on the arm.
"Jethro, it's time," she said softly, aware he was struggling. The only good thing about the situation was that father and son had been able to mend fences and have a pretty solid relationship for the last while. The alternative would've been unbearable.
He nodded wordlessly before turning around and grabbing his keys. They then made their way to the car, the engine's hum marking the beginning of a journey neither of them wanted to take. The short drive to Columbia Gardens Cemetery was filled with unspoken emotions, memories of the Gibbs patriarch swirling in the air.
Upon arriving at the cemetery, they found themselves amidst a gathering of familiar faces who were still arriving to pay their respects. Jethro stood alongside his wife, the weight of impending farewells etched on their faces. Kelly, accompanied by Michael, shared sombre nods with the sea of faces. Maddy stood by Kelly's side as well, offering her silent support while Michael's parents kindly babysat Paisley and Mason. Shannon's mom and dad were standing off to the side discussing something or other.
Cal, the young man who'd been running the Stillwater General Store since his father moved in, approached with a respectful nod, his eyes conveying shared condolences. "I'm sorry for your loss, Jethro."
He dipped his head slightly. "Thanks, Cal."
"Your dad saved my life," Cal admitted, although Jethro was already aware of at least part of the story. "I was headed down a bad road when he hired me. He said that, uh, the world was bad enough as it is. You've got no right to make it worse."
" - to make it any worse." Jethro finished at the same time. His father had told him the same thing growing up.
"Yeah," Cal confirmed with a subtle nod. "You know, no one ever cared enough to say stuff like that to me before."
As Cal went to take a seat, he glanced around to see Wayne, Stacy, and Evan were there as well, offering a supportive presence. They had known Jackson quite well and wanted to support the Gibbs family.
Several uniformed veterans who had served with his father in the Army Air Corps were seated, and Jethro noticed L.J Moore among them. Walking over to his namesake, he said, "Thanks for making the trip, L.J."
The elder man inhaled. "He was proud of you, Leroy."
A nervous energy tingled within him, his gaze meeting his namesake's. "Yeah, well... proud of him too," he replied, a lump forming in his throat.
Shannon squeezed his hand. "He was a good man."
Amid the quiet murmurs, Jethro noticed his team arriving. Abby, DiNozzo, Ziva, and the rest of them were all walking up, their faces reflecting both professional respect and, for most of them, personal sorrow.
Abby immediately pulled him in for a hug, a bittersweet smile on his lips as he fought against the tears threatening to fall. As the goth woman quietly rejoined their team, they gave him solemn nods, not wanting to be disruptive.
Vance and Ducky then walked up to them, offering the family condolences with silent nods and handshakes. They then dispersed respectfully, finding their places among the large group of attendees.
The diverse tapestry of mourners, now assembled, shared a collective breath before the ceremony began. In this moment of unity, they stood together, ready to honour a life that had touched them all.
After the reading of the Psalm of David and the eulogy, the air became filled with the melancholic notes of Taps played by a bugler. Shannon was rubbing his back and Kelly had tears falling. Wanting to help his daughter, Jethro softly said, "He loved you, Kel. Always talked about how proud he was of the woman you became."
Kelly nodded, a tear escaping the corner of her eye. "I know, Dad."
Pallbearers, carefully chosen to bear the weight of the casket, moved with measured steps, carefully folding the flag that had been draped over his father's casket. One of the airmen then stepped forward, locking eyes with him.
It was held waist high with the straight edge facing Jethro. The airman leaned toward the flag recipient slightly and solemnly presented the flag to him. "Mr. Gibbs," the airman intoned as he presented Jethro with the flag, "On behalf of the President of the United States, the United States Air Force, and a grateful Nation, please accept this flag as a symbol of our appreciation for your loved one's honourable and faithful service."
Jethro, his eyes reflecting a mix of grief and pride, accepted the folded flag presented to him. Shannon stood by his side, a source of strength, as the airman saluted him.
In the stillness of the moment, surrounded by the embrace of community and family, Gibbs held his father's flag close – a tangible tribute to a tough man who had left an indelible mark on those who knew him.
As the last melancholic strains of Taps faded away, the stark silence was broken by the sharp sounds of the Three Volley Salute. A team of seven riflemen raised their rifles in unison, firing three volleys into the sky. Each shot echoed through the large cemetery, a solemn punctuation mark to the farewell.
Once the ceremony concluded and people began to disperse, the team made their way over to where the Gibbs-Walsh family was, Shannon having a quiet discussion with her mother who had, thankfully, been on her best behaviour. He already knew she wasn't above making a stink at a funeral and if there was even close to a repeat of back, he would've absolutely lost it on Joann.
The Gibbs family, accompanied by their extended family and friends, then made their way to the house about ten minutes away. Walking away from the cemetery, Jethro felt a mix of emotions: both my parents are gone now.
Upon returning to the house, the atmosphere remained heavy with grief. Friends and family gathered, sharing stories and offering condolences. The scent of comfort food wafted through the air as neighbours brought over a myriad of dishes, contributing to the communal effort of supporting the grieving family.
As the evening progressed, he found himself taking a minute to himself and reflecting on the legacy his father had left behind. DiNozzo, having been his right hand for years, approached him casually. "Gibbs, you doing okay?"
He glanced at DiNozzo, a flicker of gratitude in his eyes. "I'm doing alright, Tony."
DiNozzo nodded, a sombre expression on his face. "Your dad was a hell of a guy, Boss. He'll be missed."
A small, appreciative smile tugged at Jethro's lips. "Yeah, he will."
The two men fell into a moment of comfortable silence, the weight of the day settling on their shoulders. Amidst the mingling, Abby approached Jethro with a small, framed photo she had taken from the Gibbs house. It captured a candid moment of father and son fishing, a fond smile etched on his face. "I thought you might want this, Gibbs," she said softly, offering the framed memory.
He took the photo, his gaze lingering on the image. "Thanks, Abbs."
As the day progressed, people started leaving, offering their final condolences as they slowly filed out. Eventually, Kelly, Michael and the kids needed to head home as well.
Left alone with Shannon, he found solace in her presence. "It's been a long day," she whispered, her eyes reflecting understanding.
"Yeah," he replied, the fatigue evident in his voice.
Shannon squeezed his hand. "Wanna watch a movie and relax?"
"Sure," he said, giving her a kiss on the cheek.
Grabbing a beer, he headed into the living room with his wife, the pair settling onto the couch. The soft glow of the TV illuminated their faces as they scrolled through the movie options. After a moment of thoughtful consideration, Shannon selected Driving Miss Daisy – which had been one of Jackson's favourites.
They immersed themselves in the classic movie, finding a quiet refuge in its familiar scenes. The soothing cadence of Morgan Freeman's voice and the gentle storyline provided a welcome distraction, allowing him and Shannon to momentarily escape the weight of the day and relax.
His father was gone, but never forgotten, and Jethro was glad that he had his family with him. He didn't want to imagine having to go through this alone.