Basement of Ill Repute, Late Monday Evening

[glasses_justice]

Alex was relieved she'd encountered Ziva today, at the Perk. To learn that Gibbs's daughter was his, but not from a messy divorce. Just from a time before his life had gone to hell

Comments

[famous_gut]

It was a long walk back to the house. He slowly came down the steps, suddenly feeling very old and tired.

When he spotted Alex sitting in the basement he just stopped and stood there. His face pretty much unreadable.

"Hey."

[glasses_justice]

"Hey," she said softly. She folded her arms around herself, failing at looking unreadable. Which probably told him how much she knew. "Brought you some Scotch."

She wasn't sure what else to say, or how to say it.

[famous_gut]

He nodded just a little. He took a step closer to the boat which was looking mostly completed by this point. He ran his hand over the hull.

"You know? About her?"

[glasses_justice]

"Ziva," she offered, by way of explanation. She realized a beat later that that might very well be getting the other woman into trouble, and hastened to add, "I asked. She thought ... better for me to find out from her, than to show up asking questions."

[famous_gut]

Gibbs let out out a small little sound of amusement.

"I find that Ziva's usually right about those things," he managed to croak out, letting his head hang a bit lower as he leaned up against the boat.

"Because I really don't know what to say, right now."

[glasses_justice]

"I can go," she said. "I don't know what to say, either. I don't mean to interrupt, if you want to be alone right now. I just ... didn't want you to have to be."

Working on the boat he'd named for Kelly. The one she'd never sail on.

[famous_gut]

For a brief moment, all the pain and anguish he went through finally cracked through. He let out a sound that was something between a sigh and a sob before pulling himself up a little bit from the boat.

"Stay. Please."

There aren't many times Gibbs would plead for someone. This weekend he made it an exception.

[glasses_justice]

She had never seen him so stripped down, so empty. She couldn't imagine what he must be feeling. She didn't want to try.

All she could do was come closer, placing arms around him gently, as though grief might have hollowed him out. She was scared he might break.

"Okay," she said. "Then I'll stay."

[famous_gut]

Gibbs didn't pull away. He turned and let himself be held. He closed his eyes and let out a breath of air.

"I couldn't stop her," he said quietly. "She didn't want to stay here."

[glasses_justice]

She was tentative, now, unsure if the wrong word might shatter him.

"She'd miss her friends," she said. "Her mother, especially. And some other you would be worried sick, knowing your daughter was missing and never came home again."

[famous_gut]

"I couldn't keep her here," he said quietly. "Not here on this damn island. I couldn't do it."

The zombies. The creatures. He couldn't keep here and away from her mom and family.

Even with everything that meant would happen.

[glasses_justice]

"It wouldn't have been fair to her," Alex said gently. "Her life is back there. Not that ... the alternative is fair, either."

There was no good answer to this. Just heartbreak.

[famous_gut]

"I hate this fucking island," Gibbs grumbled. "If it's not a monster coming at you or turning you into a dog, it's ripping your fucking heart out."

[glasses_justice]

"It's certainly got a vicious streak," she said, shaking her head. "Jethro, I'm ... so sorry. For your loss."

She rarely called him Jethro and not Gibbs -- usually only when she was oddly serious and Gibbs sounded off.

"I keep thinking of all those stupid platitudes people say, and they all seem like ... hollow words. I don't know that anyone's ever believed them, not the people saying them, not the ones hearing them and trying not to roll their eyes."