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Category: NCIS gen hurt/comfort fic
Characters: Gibbs/Fornell
Series: Yes
Spoilers: Season One - anything might get a mention - this part post ep for Bete Noir.
Summary: Gibbs hurts. Fornell understands. Gibbs finds out why. Eventually.
Archive: Just tell me where it's going
Additional 'stuff': A bit sappy. I was unhappy that Gibbs was alone in the basement at the end of the ep.
Title: Shouldering the blame
Fornell heard the shots from the basement, swore softly, unholstered his weapon and continued into the house. He had never worked out if Gibbs was hoping he wouldn't be burgled, or simply didn't care if he was. Either way, whatever the neighborhood, leaving the front door unlocked was just stupid.
There were no sounds of an argument or struggle from the basement, and Fornell's mind considered the possibilities He absolutely refused to consider the worst one he could imagine - that Gibbs had done as Colonel Ryan had threatened weeks earlier and put his gun to his head and pulled the trigger - it simply wasn't in Gibbs' make-up.
By the time Fornell reached the door at the top of the staircase down to the basement he was sure that he was wrong. He could hear sounds which he recognized all too well.
'Gibbs?' He kept his voice low, calm, pretending he had heard nothing.
There was a scrabbling sound and as he pushed the basement door open, he could see Gibbs trying hard to empty the chamber of the Sig Sauer one-handed.
'Get outta here.'
Fornell gulped at the dangerous edge to hoarse voice below him but kept going. Arm in a sling, Gibbs wasn't an obvious threat, but Fornell wasn't taking any chances and held his own weapon tightly as he descended the stairs. 'No, I'm not leaving.'
Gibbs growled, the effect spoiled as he yelped as his elbow banged on the wooden staircase. 'Ahh!'
Squeezing past him, Fornell hooked his hand under Gibbs' other elbow. 'Ducky called. Said you'd be working on your boat.'
Gibbs scowled and allowed himself to be lifted up. 'Can't...bastard shot me.'
'You get one back?'
Gibbs' face relaxed a fraction. 'Two. But he was wearing a vest.'
'What is it with you and vests?'
'They slow you down.' Gibbs muttered.
Fornell sighed. Arguing with Jethro Gibbs in this mood was pointless. 'Ducky said the boy's gonna be okay.'
Gibbs pulled from Fornell's grip. He was tired, in pain and beyond angry. 'I'll find him Tobias. And I *will* kill him.'
Fornell felt a shiver of fear go through him. He had no doubt Gibbs was serious. And the terrorists' death was just a matter of time. Knowing Gibbs, not that much time.
'Yeah. But first you're gonna take your meds and get some sleep.'
Gibbs stared at the FBI agent. 'See Tobias, that's why your agents don't do as they're told.'
Willing to humor Gibbs, Fornell smiled. 'And why is that?'
'Cos you're about as commanding as Dinozzo.'
Fornell laughed, too amused to be offended. 'Least I don't have to hit my agents to get them to behave.'
They were at the top of the staircase before Gibbs realized he had moved. 'You had Dinozzo, you'd hit him too.'
Fornell chuckled, flicked the basement light off, closing the door behind them as they continued into the kitchen.
As they walked, Fornell tried to forget the image of the terrorist pinned to the wall. He had seen the two ragged holes perfectly-placed in the grey forehead and didn't want to think too hard about how good Gibbs had to be with the weapon to have managed such a shot from a sitting position with his injuries and what had happened in the previous hours.
*********************
Fornell pretended not to notice how Gibbs' hand shook very slightly as he sipped the strong coffee Fornell brewed. He filled a glass with water and left it on the table, beside the opened white plastic bottle of painkillers.
While he rifled the refrigerator and found ham and tomatoes and kept half an eye on Gibbs to make sure he actually took the pills, Fornell prepared a sandwich, his own stomach rumbling at the aroma of the food. He nodded at the pills. 'Take with food.'
'You read the instructions?'
Fornell smiled. 'I'm familiar with them.'
Gibbs ate slowly, without enthusiasm or appetite, each mouthful tinged with smoke from the flash-bang and a bitter aftertaste of spent adrenaline.
Fornell leaned against the countertop, watching silently.
'You can go home Tobias. I'm fine.'
Fornell didn't move or speak.
'Tobias!!'
Fornell stood up and walked over to the table. 'You need to sleep. Director wants you in first thing for a de-brief on how the terrorist got into your building.'
'How do you know that?' Gibbs asked tiredly.
'FBI's gonna be involved.'
Gibbs couldn't be bothered to complain.
'C'mon.' Fornell jerked his head at the kitchen door.
Gibbs smiled tiredly. 'You gonna tuck me in?'
Fornell shook his head. 'No. I'm gonna make myself a sandwich.'
Continued in Part Two...