Work Text:
After
by Gigi Sinclair
The funeral was small and simple. Gibbs had wanted full military honours and who the fuck cared if Kate was a civilian, but Mr. and Mrs. Todd had vetoed that. Instead, she was cremated in a private ceremony, family only. Gibbs and Tony and the rest of them were permitted to attend a memorial service after the fact.
Kate's oldest brother spoke eloquently. Gibbs could see a lot of Kate in him, in the way he held himself and talked so proudly about his little sister dying doing what she loved: protecting others. Which of course wasn't what had happened at all. Kate had died because some cowardly terrorist had outsmarted all of them, and Gibbs had let it happen. She'd died for no reason whatsoever, Gibbs thought, as Tony coughed beside him, breath rattling in his lungs. And it was his fault.
"There was a lot Kate never got to accomplish in her life," Kate's brother---Jim or John or maybe Jerry, Gibbs wasn't sure---said.
That was the worst part of it, the part that made Gibbs feel the guiltiest. He'd had his shot at life. He'd been married more often than was good for anybody, he'd seen the world, he'd been to various levels of hell and back in both war and peacetime and he'd put away more criminals than he could remember. He'd had a good life, and if he'd died on that rooftop, he could have been satisfied with it. Kate, though, had just been getting started.
"When she was in college," Jim or John went on, "She told us she was going to be the director of the FBI someday. We said she'd look better in the dresses than J. Edgar Hoover, at least." Jim/John smiled, and even Fournell, on Gibbs's other side, made a soft snorting sound. Which was saying something, since Fibbers didn't usually have much of a sense of humour that way. "We know you would have made it someday, Katie." The brother sniffed a little and reached for a tissue. Gibbs let his eyes close as Tony started to cough again and, further down the row, Abby sobbed into Ducky's shoulder.
She would have made it, Gibbs knew. Maybe not director of the FBI, Gibbs didn't think she'd ever have switched over, but she would have been a legend in NCIS. A couple more years and she would have had her own team, Gibbs knew that for certain. By the time she was his age, there was no telling how far she could have gone.
Tony's cough turned from rattling to desperate. Gibbs stood up as Kate's brother left the podium and a woman in black, a sister-in-law or family friend or someone, took his place. Gibbs looked at the stone-faced McGee, who nodded, then jerked his head at Tony. Still coughing, Tony followed Gibbs out of the hall into the sunshine.
Gibbs stood as Tony wheezed. The miraculous recovery he'd made at first had faded after Kate's death, and now he looked worse than ever. The doctors had told him he needed to stay off for at least three weeks now, and this time, Tony hadn't argued with their diagnosis.
As Tony's coughing subsided, Gibbs put a hand on his shoulder. Tony straightened up, his face pale and heavy black rings under his eyes. Neither of them had been sleeping much lately.
"I'm leaving," Gibbs said, as Tony looked at him.
"I don't think the service is finished yet."
"I mean, for good." Gibbs didn't need to elaborate further.
"You think that's a good idea?" Tony asked.
"I think I don't have any choice." He needed to hunt down Ari, and he couldn't do that if he was constrained by the regulations and orders of NCIS.
Tony understood, of course. Gibbs wouldn't have told him otherwise. "Want some help?" Tony asked.
Tempting as it was, Gibbs had to say: "I need you at the office." Tony knew what he meant that time, too, Gibbs could see it in his eyes. He nodded, as Gibbs had known he would. Kate had meant as much to Tony as she had to Gibbs, and Gibbs was getting the feeling Tony wished he'd expressed it a little more often.
"I guess I'll see you around, then."
Gibbs felt a sharp pain in his chest, the first thing he'd felt at all since Kate had fallen to the ground in front of him. "Take care of Abby and McGee. I assume I can leave Ducky to Palmer."
Tony smiled a little, but it lacked his usual enthusiasm. "Take care of yourself."
There was no one around, so Gibbs allowed himself a luxury he'd never indulged in before. He put his arms around Tony and squeezed briefly, feeling the too-prominent ribs under his hands. Tony coughed again, and Gibbs let go. "You'll be OK?"
Tony nodded, looking exhausted, but Gibbs couldn't allow himself to feel anything about that. He headed for the car, parked at the far end of the lot and didn't turn back until he got there. By that time, Tony had gone back inside.
He didn't regret it, Gibbs thought, as he started the engine. It was the least he could do for Kate. He'd taken her life from her, as surely as if he'd pulled the trigger himself. Now, he had to give his life---or as much of it as it took---to her.
No regrets, Gibbs repeated, but plenty of remorse. For all of them.
end