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Peja's Wonderful World of Makebelieve Import
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Published:
2020-11-04
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Facing the Future

Summary:

Gibbs POV following the events of SWAK/Twilight/Kill Ari

Work Text:

He was tired. Hell, he was beyond tired. The only thing he could think of at the moment was going home and... and what? What was he supposed to do now anyway? The funeral was over. The remains of Ari's body lay in the morgue, awaiting disposition, and the inquiry into the double agent/terrorist's death had been blissfully short. No recriminations, no fallout. At least for the immediate future. His team was safe again. Life goes on, right?

Then why did he feel like there was a gapping hole in his chest where his heart should be. The past few weeks had been anything but normal. Anything but... Since when had normal become a part of his life? Missing the turn to take him to his own home, he presses down on the accelerator, propelling the car forward at breakneck speed, ignoring the horns of the irate drivers around him.

Pulling his car into the apartment building's parking lot, he automatically takes note of the other cars in the visitor's section. Ducky and Abby's cars standing out in the nearly empty area. Turning his gaze toward the tenant's section, he is surprised to see Tony leaning against the trunk of his rental car. As he pulls his car closer, Tony steps away from the parked car, putting himself directly in front of the moving car, forcing him to stop.

Tony looks at his watch as he leans into the open window of the car. "What took you so long, boss?" he asks softly. "Figured you would have been here at least a good 30 minutes ago."

Jethro looks at the other man. As he starts to answer, he realizes that he doesn't have a clue as to how to answer the question.

Tony pats the Jethro's closest shoulder. "Don't sweat it, boss," he says. "Come on up. Everyone else is upstairs waiting for us."

Several hours later, Jethro stands in the semi-darkness on the apartment's small balcony, he is startled by the hand that lands on his shoulder.
"Brought you something to drink, boss," Tony says softly. "Everyone else has turned in for the night."
Jethro takes the large coffee cup from Tony's hand. "Thanks, Di... Tony. For everything."

Tony shrugs. "I kinda figured no one would want to be alone tonight. It was either this or the Presidential Suite at the Willard. I thought we'd be more comfortable here."

Jethro's gaze remains locked on a faraway point only he can see as he stares off into the distance.
Tony sighs. "Director Shepard left a voice mail earlier. She's given us all the next few days off. She also said she set up appointments for us to meet with the shrink. Her message was very explicit about not being allowed back until after the visit with the doctor."

"Jenny means well," Jethro sighs softly.

"I realize you probably won't go," Tony says. "But if you do need someone to talk to, I'm here any time, boss."

Feeling as if the walls are starting to close in on him, Jethro starts to move toward the door. He stops only at Tony's next words.

"I know that no matter what I say or do, I'm never going to convince you that this wasn't your fault," Tony says softly. "The only one to blame is Ari and the bastard is dead."

"Should have been dead a long time ago," Jethro mutters.

"Yes, he should have," Tony agrees. "We all had our own opportunities to finish him off. Kate included. For whatever reason, we didn't. You aren't the only one carrying around guilt over this. We can't change the past, Gibbs."

"We just have to live with the poor choices we made," Jethro sighs. When he lifts the coffee cup to his mouth, he is surprised to taste bourbon instead of coffee.

"It's top shelf so have as much as you want. I left the bottle on the counter in the kitchen. Your car keys are locked up until morning. I put fresh sheets on the bed in the master bedroom and I left some towels out for you on the counter in the bathroom. There's a razor and stuff there too. Help yourself." Tony moves toward the doorway to go inside.

"I won't put you out of your bed, Tony," Jethro says.

"I haven't slept there in ages, boss," Tony says with a shrug of his shoulders. "Don't do so well lying flat. Too hard to breathe."

"Dammit, Tony," Jethro growls, feeling his stomach tighten all over again at the reminder that he could have easily lost Tony too.

"Don't sweat it, boss," Tony says. "Stay out here and relax all you want. The room is yours when you are ready. Ducky and Gerald are sacked out in the guest room. Abby and McGee are on the Murphy bed in the den. I'll be in the living room, catching up on a few things. Good night, Gibbs."

As Tony reaches for the door, Jethro calls out softly. "Tony..."

Tony stops, knowing that if he makes so much as a twitch, Jethro may bolt.

After a long silence, Jethro sighs. "Try to get some sleep, Tony," he says softly. "You are looking like crap again."

"Thanks boss," Tony says with a smile. "You know where to find me if you need me."

Jethro waits until the door slides shut behind the younger man. "If I need you..."

Jethro leans heavily against the railing to the balcony. By unspoken agreement, everyone had wound up at Tony's following Kate's funeral. Ducky and Gerald had commandeered the kitchen, whipping up soup and sandwiches, which after some coaxing, everyone had dived into. Even Tony had even managed to eat half a bowl of soup and nibble at a sandwich. Other than the odd slice of pizza on stakeout the other night, he doesn't recall seeing Tony eat anything since long before Kate's...

Dammit, it just wasn't fair. Kate was a good agent. A smart, beautiful, and caring woman. She loved her job and did it well. She was well liked by nearly everyone she met. She and Tony were like brother and sister and even though Kate would probably be appalled that he knew, he even admired her intimate relationship with Abby. The two women were best friends and lovers. He wished he had the courage to ...

Courage to what? Ruin his career and the career of his senior field agent. One of the best field agents he had ever known. Tony was a natural when it came to field work. His instincts were seldom wrong, his work top-notch. His upbeat attitude kept the team together. The team... Did he even have a team any more?

He had observed how McGee had reacted to the events on the pier. The shootout alone was enough to rattle anyone. To not only have one of his fellow team members brutally shot down in cold blood but to also find out that the only reason you had narrowly avoided the same fate was because some other terrorist decided to take aim at the same target would be enough to have anyone immediately typing up his resignation and checking the local university for scholarly job openings. He hadn't missed the young agent's silence or gradual withdrawal since Abby had discovered the .308 bullet lodged in the trunk of the car. He had no doubt that Tim McGee was rattled. He wondered if McGee's resignation was already on his desk, awaiting his return.

Thinking of Abby, Jethro realizes how easily he could have lost her as well. Thankfully, Tony's excellent reflexes had moved them quickly out of harm's way. He had read the incident report. They were damn lucky. Even though it had been left out of the report, the enigmatic young lady had been understandably shaken by what had happened. As he held her in the darkness of the lab, he could feel her shaking in his arms. Her concern for the safety of the entire team, not just herself had touched him deeply. He promised her to keep her safe, to keep all of them safe. Assigning McGee to watch over her in the newly secured basement solved that task relatively easily. Except for one notable exception.

Ducky. He had nearly lost one of his dearest friends. That Ari knew exactly what buttons to push to get Ducky to place himself in such extreme danger still stuck in his craw. Catching Ducky leaving the building had been a pure stroke of luck. Ducky's innate sense of chivalry had insisted upon him conversing with the new Director. Jenny's delaying of the doctor's departure had probably saved the man's life.

Ducky's persistence in meeting with Ari to secure Gerald's freedom still rankled. Ducky had insisted upon going to the meet the bastard alone. Jethro's stealthy approach to Gerald's car from behind had only been thwarted by the inclement weather. As Ari took aim on the defenseless medical examiner and his assistant, the sudden and unexpected flash of lightning had not only startled the terrorist but had illuminated Jethro's position. Turning to fire on Jethro, Ari had allowed his attention to waiver from Ducky and Gerald, giving them time to flee to safety. Severely wounded, Ari had still managed to escape.

It was only through Tony's intuition and interaction with Ziva David that the full story came to light. Once again, the young man had come up with the correct combination to solve the case and help bring the killer to justice. That Tony wanted and did extract his own brand of justice from Ari both pleased and worried Jethro. Throughout his Marine career, Jethro had time and again confronted the issue of kill or be killed. Despite his long and varied career, Jethro could still name every person he had killed and the exact circumstance of their demise. It was his burden to carry. He didn't want to see Tony become as cold and hardened as he himself had become. The young man was too full of life to allow that to happen.

Life... Life goes on, right? So now what? Do I still have a team? This was my fault after all. I was the main target. If it hadn't of been for me, they would have all been safe, right? Sure, the job could be dangerous. They had all faced life or death situations before but this, this was personal. And Ari's not the only person out there holding a grudge against one Leroy Jethro Gibbs. Could it happen again? Would it? Chances are... chances.

Dammit, now what? Sure he had taken steps to better secure Abby's lab. And even if McGee didn't outright resign, would he still trust him? And Tony? What about Tony? He knew the odds going in. But Jethro hadn't misread the signs. He saw Tony cringe from him in the office when he went to pat him on the back. Was the man truly afraid of him? Did the man trust him at all any more? Could he be trusted at all anymore? Could anyone trust him at all any more?

The sound of the coffee cup shattering to the concrete four stories below echoes in the dark night.