1979
That bastard had been too big for him. Too tall, too heavy, too wide to even put his hands around him and throw him on the floor, or table for that matter. The man had a very strong right hook, and with his left one wasn't anything wrong either. Even though Gibbs tried to dodge them, he got a few punches in his face, and after a couple he tasted blood in his mouth. And that asshole kicked him a few times in places where Gibbs' body would protest later on. Getting kicked in the groin area was never pleasant.
Gibbs didn't let him beat him to pulp… he tried to fight back, honestly. He got as far as disarming the big guy and throwing the first punch when the man resisted to be arrested but that was it. Gibbs' colleague, who was bigger and faster than himself, had to come to the rescue and force the man to surrender. Not only did he get hurt physically, but his ego took a fair beating as well. He was supposed to be the one who could do anything. He was supposed to be agile and strong, due to his athletic background. He didn't work out for nothing, and he knew the saying that you can't win them all, but this hurt.
Gibbs was 25 now, and he had been a marine since he was 18. Two years or so ago, he had wanted to do something else, and had done the Military Police course in Montana. Even though he knew he had a crazy life of some sort, he managed to find some time to go out in the weekends and drink a little. He knew he wasn't badly looking, but he didn't want to take advantage out of that either. His father tried to talk to him, like a drill instructor most of the time, and tried to get through his thick skull that he needed to settle down. Gibbs never listened to his father ever since he reached puberty, mostly because his father was one selfish bastard who couldn't talk normally. His father didn't care about what Gibbs did, never had either. Ever since his mother died, Gibbs had a hard time dealing with the alcohol abuse of his father, who knew to hide it because he was a marine, and couldn't be an alcoholic. His father wanted to see Gibbs settle down, because he wanted to become a grandfather before he died. Gibbs had jokingly said to his father that he was too young to die, but his father only grunted for an answer. But he had to admit, Shannon had potential.
Shannon … Gibbs could kill himself. He had a date with her that evening, but he felt too bruised to even consider taking her out. The Doc said that he had a few bruised ribs, and had stitched up a cut or two in his face. Nope, he told himself while he drove himself home after duty, she'll have to wait. He never gave up. He was a marine, he never quit. But he thought it was time to lick his wounds at home, alone, and have a good soak in the bath. And maybe after that he'd pick up his book on the Russian language, he was planning to become an interrogator / translator to aid the MP's even more, and he liked the Russian language ever since he saw The Man From U.N.C.L.E. on TV when he was a kid.
1986
He buried the bastard, also known as his father, in 1983. His father had never taken the effort to tell Gibbs that he was sick, that Cancer was eating him from the inside. His father had never sought help, or treatment. He just let it happen. Not that Gibbs talked a lot to his father, they were both not talk active and just met because of them being related. His father was happy to see Gibbs get married to Shannon in 1982, and after not having seen his father for months, Gibbs got called by Bethesda hospital to let him know that his father was dying. He hadn't forgiven him for not telling Gibbs… yet. Shannon granted him a baby girl, Kelly, in 1984 and she was a little angel. He had stayed home with Shannon that week, and just enjoyed the baby girl. Her small hands and feet, her little nose and her blue eyes made him feel like his life was just perfect. It felt right, and he knew he was going to spoil his baby girl to bits.
He had started to work for NIS about a year ago, and he enjoyed it. He liked it that no day was the same, that he didn't need to wear his uniform all day long, and mostly, it wasn't as dangerous as being send out on a regular basis to some foreign country to protect the peace. He liked it that he was home at weekends, especially now Shannon was his wife, and Kelly his own flesh and blood. Kelly was a real daddy's girl, she could wrap him around her little finger in no time, and make his heart melt.
He had the pleasure to work with the FBI on some cases, who seemed to hate NIS ' gut. He really didn't know why, but it was probably about how dead Marines ended up just outside NIS ' jurisdiction and there for had to work with the FBI. Gibbs thought that the FBI agents were a bunch of arrogant bastards. He had become familiar with a FBI rookie called Tobias Fornell and had befriended him. He even came to his house, and Fornell invited Gibbs over as well.
Mike Franks, Gibbs' superior, was nearly having a heart attack when he saw the crime scene. It was just on the border of their jurisdiction, and the head of the dead Petty Officer had rolled into FBI jurisdiction. If it was humanly possible, one could have seen steam coming out of Mike's ears.
"I'll bet you 10 bucks, Jethro." Fornell held up his hand. "That your boss and mine are going to have a fight."
"No way." Gibbs laughed. "We're not that juvenile."
"Okay." Fornell sighed. "Ten bucks… that we're going to take the head back and you the rest of the body." "Deal." Gibbs grinned and shook Fornell's hand.
"Probie!" Mike barked, and Gibbs immediately ran to his boss.
"Yes boss?"
"Photo's and sketches of the head. Wait for the ME and guard it with your life."
"Boss?"
"Do it."
"Hold on." Fornell's boss, Jack Evans, suddenly said. "I'm willing to give you the head. But you'll have an FBI medical consultant with you when you take it back, and when your ME is doing autopsy."
"We don't need a babysitter, Jack." Mike shot at him.
"We're doing this my way, or I'm taking the head and leave you with the rest of the body."
"Fine. Gibbs, take care of that consultant too." Mike gave in. Gibbs had expected that Mike would try to eat Evans alive, but he didn't.
"Really?" Gibbs asked surprised. He didn't expect that his boss would give him such a responsibility, even though it was just taking care of their guest.
"You wait for him and our ME to arrive." Mike instructed him and lit a cigarette. "I'm going to ask around."
"Yes boss." Gibbs saw Fornell and Evans skulk off and walked to the severed head to make photo's and sketch. The Marine was decapitated with something. Something sharp, obviously. Gibbs couldn't draw very well, but Mike had said it was enough.
"One step closer, my boy, and I'll have to kick your butt." A British voice sounded. Gibbs turned around to see where the sound came from and saw a man, probably end forties, nearing Fifty, walk up to him. He was short, and wore a hat.
"Excuse me?"
"Donald Mallard." The man smiled and extended his hand towards him. "I'm the medical counselor for the FBI."
"You got here fast, Doctor Mallard."
"Ducky, please."
"Why not Donald?" Gibbs asked puzzled.
"I've been called Ducky for a very long time, agent…." "Gibbs."
"Agent Gibbs, and I have grown quite attached to my nickname." Mallard smiled. "Now move aside." He gently pushed Gibbs aside and kneeled down next to the dead Marine.
"I was taking pictures." Gibbs objected.
"You can do that while I'm looking at the deceased until your ME comes here."
"If he comes…" Gibbs muttered and continued to shoot.
1990
A week after he returned from the invasion of Panama as a reservist, he invited Ducky over for dinner. Shannon and Kelly had grown quite attached to the eccentric, and obviously wealthy, Brit and loved the stories he told them from countries far away from the US . Gibbs had asked Ducky to look after his family while he was away and Ducky loved doing that.
When Gibbs opened the door to let Ducky in, he was surprised to see the older man carry a shopping bag. "Duck?"
"Ha, Jethro!" he said excited. "I'm cooking."
"But I invited YOU." He took over the shopping bag. " Shannon is already cooking and…" "She won't mind."
"But…" " Shannon !" Ducky called out. "Would you mind to seize your cooking?"
"Ducky!" Shannon 's voice sounded as she walked out of the kitchen. "I haven't even started yet." She hugged the older man.
"Uncle Duck!" 5 year old Kelly ran out of the living room, nearly tripping over her little feet and hugged Ducky's legs.
"Okay." Gibbs smiled and walked to the kitchen to put down the shopping bag on the counter.
"What are you going to cook, uncle Ducky?" Kelly's little voice sounded in the hallway.
"Something special, dear." Gibbs could hear the smile in Ducky's voice. "Would you like to help me?"
"Yes!" Gibbs turned around when he heard little feet run towards him. "Daddy! I'm going to help uncle Ducky with cooking!"
"Oh really?" Gibbs smiled and lifted his little girl up. "You better pay attention then, because Ducky is a true chef."
"Maybe you should pay attention too honey," Shannon 's voice sounded. "You can't cook." She walked towards him and kissed him tenderly.
"That's not fair." Gibbs chuckled.
"I have a better idea." Ducky said. "You're all going to help me." He smiled widely. "You know, when I was in a restaurant in Paris a few years ago…" To Gibbs, Ducky came across as a lonely man, he rarely spoke of friends, and he got this opinion because Ducky liked to talk. At first, after they just had met, Gibbs got annoyed by it, and wanted to avoid Ducky as much as possible, but the man shared so many experiences, he had so many things to tell, it was amazing. Most of all, Ducky was a good friend. Gibbs did find it curious that Ducky didn't have a family, not even in England , apart from his mother. Gibbs knew that Shannon was going to hate it, but he knew he might have to go to the Middle East soon. Iraq and Iran weren't agreeing on many things, and he knew that if things should go wrong, he'd be asked to fight. He knew he had promised Shannon he would retire and become a civilian and live a normal life with her and Kelly, but he wanted one more run. He needed it. He was still a reservist, and would stay that way until his last adrenaline rush would pass. Not that his current job didn't cause an adrenaline rush, but it was different. To hold a sniper rifle in your hand, and decide who lives or dies was some sort of kick. He didn't like it, but it gave him power. Firing a Sig Sauer at a fleeing suspect didn't do the trick.
1991
A coma caused by a head wound, his leg shot up, a broken arm and a few broken ribs had him spending days in the hospital with annoying nurses, doctors and bad food. It wasn't his thing. Never had been, but he was stuck for the unforeseeable future. He sensed that they needed to tell him something, but they didn't. They did tell him that his coma lasted for 19 days. They told him they had to evacuate him out of a Kuwaiti hospital while he was still in a coma, had him in Frankfurt and shipped him back to the US , now he wasn't a doctor, but he knew that would have been a very complicated transfer. They had gotten Ducky over from the States and Ducky told him that it was like he didn't want to wake up. It had made Gibbs think. Maybe it would have been better if he had died. Shannon and Kelly would be taken care of, he knew that. But he didn't want to leave them alone either.
"Jethro?" Ducky's voice sounded, it forced him to open his eyes, even though his head hurt.
"Brought food?"
"Unfortunately not." Ducky chuckled.
"Coffee?"
"Sorry Jethro." There was something in Ducky's eyes that made him even more suspicious of what was going on. There wasn't a spark in them, his eyes didn't smile, like they always did.
"Is there something you're not telling me, Duck?"
"Should there be?" Ducky was lying. He knew it.
"Yes." He replied simply. "I might have received a blow or two or three against my head, but you're hiding something from me."
"It's nothing Jethro." Ducky finally sat down in a chair. "I had a very difficult autopsy about a month ago and the case still isn't solved. I guess it worries me."
"What day is it today?"
"April 2nd."
"Really?"
"Yes."
"Wow." Gibbs sighed. "When can I go home?"
"In a few weeks, probably."
"Will you continue to hold out on me until I can go home?"
"I am not holding out."
"Are you afraid that I'm not strong enough?" he didn't give up. Usually, his friend cracked under pressure.
"What are you talking about?"
"Why are you answering my questions with questions?"
"For gods sake Jethro!" Ducky bursted out. "Leave it alone."
"Tell me what's going on."
"Leave it alone." Ducky repeated and got up. "I'll be back later, you need your rest."
"Quitter." Gibbs muttered.
"Juvenile." Was the muffled response by Ducky.
"Hey!" Gibbs defended himself.
"Get some rest, Jethro." Ducky closed the door behind him and left him alone, again. Gibbs sighed. He was a bastard, sometimes, and he obviously hurt Ducky. What if there wasn't anything to hide? What if it was his own concussed mind that was conjuring these paranoid hallucinations of something gone horribly wrong? What if Ducky was telling the truth? Could it be that Ducky's emotions were being transferred to Gibbs? Usually, Gibbs didn't believe in that shit, but he had gone through a lot in Desert Storm. Maybe the concussion was just messing with his head. Gibbs could understand why Kelly hadn't visited him yet, he must look like hell. Shannon probably visited him, when he was asleep, and he had to write her a note that she was allowed to wake him up if she came by to see him. He needed to see her, he wanted to touch her and to taste her so bad, that the yearning for her hurt even more than his injuries.
"What day is it?"
"May 4th, Jethro." Ducky's reply was. "I'm taking you home."
"Finally." Gibbs smiled. "I need real food and real coffee and Shannon and Kelly."
Ducky put Gibbs' clothes on his bed. "Can you dress yourself?"
"Of course I can. My leg is in a cast but I think I'm able to put a normal pair of trousers on."
"Give me a yell when you can't." Ducky smiled and closed the curtain.
Gibbs sighed and swung his legs to the side of the bed. He had gotten used to the cast around his leg. The cast had been replaced several times, and even though broken bones usually tend to heal in 6 to 8 weeks, he had the pleasure of having a very busted leg. At least Shannon would be happy, because he couldn't do his loved Marine job anymore, and had to stick with being an NIS agent.
"Duck?"
"Yes?"
"Take me home, I'm ready."
"Where are Shannon and Kelly?" Gibbs asked when he set foot in his suspiciously quiet home. It looked like Shannon and Kelly were out. "Didn't you warn them about me coming home?"
"I did." Ducky sighed.
"Where are they?"
"Jethro, sit down." Ducky pointed to the couch. "Please."
"Duck…" Gibbs sighed. "Why?" "Sit." Ducky gently pushed him towards the couch and made him sit down. "There's something that I need to tell you." Ducky sat down next to him, and didn't dare to look at Gibbs either.
"What?"
"Remember that I told you about having done a very difficult autopsy?"
"Yeah, you told me last month." Gibbs nodded.
"Oh Gibbs." Ducky sighed. "It were Shannon and Kelly…" "What?"
"Their driver got shot in the head by a sniper, and they died in the car crash."
"What?"
"Jethro, your wife and daughter are dead." Ducky looked him straight in the face. He had tears in his eyes. Ducky wasn't lying.
"Why didn't you tell me before?" Gibbs sobbed as he stared at Shannon and Kelly's name plates on the cemetery.
"I'm sorry." Ducky put an arm around Gibbs to comfort him. "I… I couldn't tell you. The trauma you had endured made it impossible for me to tell you until you were…" "You should have told me, Duck." Gibbs interrupted him. "Leave me alone." He pushed his friend away and didn't look at him. "Go. I'll stay here."
"Jethro…" "Dammit Ducky!" Gibbs blurted. "Leave me alone!" he barked. From the corner of his eye, he saw Ducky walk off. He wished he could sink to his knees and be closer to them, but he couldn't. His leg made it impossible for him to kneel. He was angry. He was hurt. His sweetheart and his angel were dead. His best friend held out on him. The bastard that killed Shannon and Kelly was going to pay. "I promise…" he whispered between his tears. "I'll get him."
Author's Chapter Notes:
The life of Jethro Gibbs 1979 - 1991