The Bonds that We Save
Title: The Bonds that We Save
Author: honor_reid
Artist:
g_love99
Pairing: GEN
Rating: Mature
Length: 31,614
Warnings: Violence and threats of violence against a child. Past child neglect and abuse mentions. Drug addiction and recovery.
Author's note: This is the third story in my Marching On Verse. It probably won't make sense unless you read the first two stories, Marching On and The Days We Break. Many many thanks to my beta naemi who seriously is the best, and my stories are always a hundred percent better after she is done with them. Any remaining mistakes are my own. Also a huge thank you to my artist g_love99 they gave me so much art to chose from and it was all so awesome! Thank you to Solariana for putting this challenge together! Written for the ncis_bang. Also written for
hc_bingo square: substance addiction, table here
Summary: Tim finally has a family in Gibbs, Jackson, and the rest of the team. Unfortunately when his mother returns she brings a world of trouble with her.
We'll have the days we break
And we'll have the scars to prove it
We'll have the bonds we save
And we'll have the heart not to lose it
~Marchin On by OneRepublic
Sunday
Tim dashed down the basement stairs, in a hurry to join his father. He had finally finished with his homework. He had finals this upcoming week, and then he would be done with school, at least until July when summer school started. According to his teachers, he had one more block of classes left, and then he would be officially caught up with his fellow students. Tim was excited, but he was also worn out. He was ready for school to be over and done with.
It had been six months since the incident, as Tim was still calling it. He was now only seeing Dr. Patterson a couple a times a month rather than every week. Which was definitely an improvement as far as Tim was concerned. He did recognize that therapy had done him some good, but he past was the past. Best ignored and forgotten about.
His father was standing next to the work bench in the middle of the room. When he looked up, he gave Tim a broad smile, and waved him over. Gibbs was working on a project for the local VA. They were having a fundraising auction in August, and he was building a table and chairs that could be auctioned off. Tim was still impressed by how talented Gibbs was. He could build just about anything.
“How’s it going?” Tim asked.
Gibbs pointed behind him. “I’ve finished up the main pieces,” Tim could see a round table with four chairs pushed against the wall. “I’m now working on the decorative trim pieces.”
Now that Tim was standing in front of the bench, he saw long pieces of oak that were in various stages of completeness. Some just had rough pencil sketches drawn along the length, others had grooves cut out of them in a rough outline of the final design. One was completely finished. Moving closer, Tim could see the design was of ocean waves. Some were only small curls, but others were high crests that peaked at the top of the piece.
“Wow. These are awesome,” Tim said, wonder echoing in every word.
“Thanks Tim,” Gibbs said in a pleased voice. “If you want, I can teach you how to carve the designs?”
Looking over the various knives and chisels on the bench that Gibbs used to carve the waves, Tim wanted to say yes. He couldn’t help but flashback to the moment he had stood up and driven the chisel into the stomach of the man in the ski mask. The smell of gunpowder, the way the blood ran over his hand, and the scream that had echoed through the air.
Turning away, Tim counted to ten, just like Dr. Patterson had taught him, to stave off a panic attack. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he permitted his father to draw him into a hug. Tim allowed himself to be comforted for a minute before he pulled away. He gave a concerned Gibbs a reassuring smile.
“Not yet. One day,” Tim said. It was the truth. Tim wanted to learn, but he wasn’t ready. That was another thing Dr. Patterson had helped him with: to recognize what his limitations were and that they were not failures, only the reality for the moment. Also, just because he was unable to handle something today didn’t mean it would always be that way. He needed to have patience with himself
“When you’re ready,” Gibbs stated before ruffling his hair. “How about you help me by sanding off the rough edges?”
Tim smiled in relief. That was something he appreciated about his dad. He never made fun of him or tried to push him. Tim was allowed to say no, and that no was respected.
He was reaching for the sandpaper when he spied a new addition to one of the shelves that was against the window. Gibbs used to have an old dial radio that only got oldies stations and static. Now, there was a CD radio combo unit.
Turning back towards Gibbs, Tim was about to ask when he was handed a CD case.
“I thought this would give us something to listen to other than elevator music,” Gibbs said.
Turning the case over, Tim saw it was an audio book of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, translation by J.R.R. Tolkien.
“Have you read that one yet?” Gibbs asked.
“Actually, no. I’ve always wanted to, though,” Tim said excitedly. “Thank you so much. This is awesome! Can I put it on?”
“Yeah, go ahead.” Gibbs chuckled, at Tim’s enthusiasm.
Tim popped the CD into the player. He was beyond stoked. J.R.R. Tolkien was one of his favorite authors, but he had never read his take on the Arthurian legend of the Green Knight.
After making sure the disk would play, Tim returned to stand next to his father who handed him the sandpaper, and they got to work.
Sanding the rough edges was a somewhat mindless job, so Tim watched as his father picked up a carving knife and begun to transform the wood grain into a rolling ocean scene, and vowed that one day, he would be able to join him.
Tim and Gibbs worked side by side through the afternoon as the words of the unknown poet drifted through the air.
“Under heaven the first in fame,
Their king most high in pride;
It would now be hard to name
A troop in war so tried…”
~NCIS~
Seeing none of the beauty of the garden laid out before him, Jude stood on the porch. He usually liked spending time out front, especially in the evenings. Sometimes, him and the Doc would sit on the porch swing in the early evenings, watching the sunset and just talking about anything and everything. Ducky had a million and one stories up his sleeve, and somehow he always was able to tell one that got Jude to begin talking as well.
The Doc’s house was situated on a quiet street, so it was always fairly peaceful until the crickets started in the early evening, and even then Jude couldn’t begrudge the small noise they made. Mostly because his new life was so different and better than his old, and Jude was very grateful for the second chance given to him by Ducky.
Except for now he was being confronted with exactly how much he was lacking, in the education department at last. Jude rubbed a hand tiredly over his face. He was craving a cigarette something fierce. He had involuntarily broken the habit while he was in the hospital, but there were still times when he would kill for a one.
“Well, maybe not kill, only slightly maim,” Jude thought with a smirk on his face.
The reason he was missing nicotine like a lost limb was he had taken the first of seven practice tests for his GED. He had taken the exam through a website that had been set by the state to help people become more prepared to take the test. Jude had felt pretty confident going into it, but that confidence had slowly but surely slipped away after each question he had answered. Now Ducky had been tutoring Jude and helping him get caught up, but apparently, he still had a long way to go.
He had turned seventeen in March, and it was now June. Jude had nine months until he turned eighteen, and he wanted to get his GED before then. Once he had his GED he could get a job and move out. Although he loved it here, he wasn’t going to be a burden on the Doc any longer than he had to. He wasn’t a leech.
~NCIS~
Six months previous
“Here is the remote,” Ducky said, pointing at the grey rectangle remote that was next to a bottle of water, a cell phone, and a stack of novels on the side table next to Jude’s bed. “There is also a selection of books I thought you might be interested in. If those don’t interest you, I have more in the library, which is down the hall.”
Jude painfully scooted up until he was sitting against the headboard. He felt winded just from that small movement, so he didn’t think he would be getting up all that much. Jude had left the hospital yesterday afternoon and had felt nothing but the need to rest as much as possible. He kept drifting off in the middle of everything, watching TV, reading, even conversations. Thankfully, Ducky gave him a room with a bathroom because he didn’t think he could make it any further than that. He was doing much better since the attack, but he was still so weak and needed more help than he usually did.
Ducky threaded one arm through his jacket, then the other arm, and buttoned it up. “Now, I shouldn’t be gone more than a couple of hours. I know you just had lunch, but you are more than welcome to make yourself some food if you wish. I would recommend you stay in bed and rest up as much as possible though. I don’t like leaving you so early in your recovery but I need to sign some paperwork at the office.”
Jude couldn’t help but stare at Ducky in shock. “You’re just going to leave me, a virtual stranger, alone in your house?”
“Well yes,” Ducky said gently, with a confused look on his face.
“But you don’t know me. I could rob you blind in the couple of hours you’re gone and then just disappear never to be seen again,” Jude said slowly.
Ducky’s eyebrows raised a bit before he gave a chuckle. “Oh undoubtedly you could at least give it a good college try. And you could even get a fair amount before I returned, but I am not worried because I know you.”
Jude started to shake his head, but Ducky held up his hand to stop his denial, “I know we haven’t known each other long, so of course there are things I do not know but I also have faith in you, Mr. Carrington.”
Ducky gave him a reassuring smile before he left. Jude just stared in disbelief at the spot where the Doc had been standing. He knew Ducky was not naïve. No one could live the life that he had without being gaining experience and knowledge, in the workings of people, and both the good and the bad that they could do. Still the man was too trusting. Reaching for the remote so he could watch the game, Jude decided he would have to keep an eye out for him.
~NCIS~
Present
Out of the corner of his eye, Jude saw the porch light come on. He knew he needed to go back inside because the last thing he wanted was for Ducky to come outside. The Doc had been fighting a pretty severe cold all week, and Jude didn’t want the elderly man to have a setback. Ducky was a good guy, and he was always worrying about others, but he needed to take better care of himself.
Walking back into the house, Jude took off his baseball cap, hung it on the hall tree next to the door, and tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. He was so happy to have his hair finally back to the length it had been before his attack. He glanced briefly into the mirror and scowled a bit at his reflection. Although his black hair covered up most of the scar, it was still visible where it went diagonally across his forehead for about three inches. Jude briefly ran his finger over the mark, before shaking his head with a chuckle. When had he become so vain?
Walking into the kitchen, Jude saw that Ducky was bustling around the small room, getting dinner ready.
“Jude, there you are. I was just cooking dinner. Why don’t you start the salad?” Ducky said as he was sautéing onions on the stove.
Reaching into the fridge and grabbing the vegetables, Jude said, “No problem, Doc.”
Setting up the cutting board and starting to cut up tomatoes for the salad, he listened with half an ear to the Doc starting to tell a story about the time he had been on maneuvers with his outfit when they had been stranded in the middle of nowhere with minimal supplies. The story was both entertaining and funny especially the way Ducky told it. Although at the time, it must have been cold and miserable. After smiling and laughing through their prep for dinner, they were soon sitting at the dining room table, feasting on chicken risotto, and salad. Ducky was a good cook and seemed to really enjoy trying new recipes. Jude considered himself lucky that he got to taste all of his culinary experiments.
Once they were mostly finished, Jude asked, “How are you feeling?” Ducky looked better, but he was still pale.
“I appreciate the concern Jude, but I am doing fine,” Ducky said with a comforting smile, although his voice was a bit raspy.
“Okay,” Jude said with an uncertain smile in return.
Ducky cleared his throat and said in a voice laced with sympathy, “I didn’t want to disturb you earlier on the porch, but you do seem troubled. Jude, it is only a practice exam. Its purpose is to make you aware of where your weaknesses are so you can shore up those areas.”
Jude said bitterly, “Well it certainly did that.” Then, seeing Ducky looking back at him with nothing but patient understanding on his face, Jude continued, “You’re right. It was just a wakeup call for me. That’s all. I will have to work harder.”
Ducky patted him comfortingly on the hand. “You already work so hard at your studies. I am not at all worried you will pass the GED with flying colors come August.”
He started to rise and take the plates, but Jude beat him to it. “Why don’t you go rest in the living room? Do you want some tea?”
With a beleaguered yet amused sigh, Ducky said, “Yes, tea sounds delightful. And I will go rest even though I do not need it, but only if you will join me afterwards. We can play a round or two of cards.”
“You have deal.”
~NCIS~
Placing the last of the freshly laundered clothes in the wooden dresser, Cathy shut the drawer and turned around. Making one last inspection of the room she realized something was missing. Digging through the mostly empty shopping bags gathered at the bottom of the twin bed that was pushed against the far wall, she finally emerged with a triumphant “Aha!” She pulled out a brown leather-bound gilt-edged book from the last bag. Smiling widely, Cathy hugged the book to her heart before placing it gently on the side table next to the bed. She opened the front cover and ran a finger over the inscription.
“To Timothy, With Love Always Mom.”
Closing the cover and making sure the book was perfectly straight, Cathy smiled slightly. Before she changed her mind and picked it up again. She would take it with her as sort of peace offering for Tim. The journal was one of the first purchases she had made when she had gotten out of Oceanside Rehab. Tim was always writing in his journal, so she knew she had to have it as soon as she had seen it in the window. Scooping up the now empty shopping bags, Cathy took in a deep breath, and taking a few steps back, looked around the room. It was a medium sized room with a large window that let in a lot of natural Arizona sunlight; it also had a bed, a dresser, and a desk with a new computer on it. It was perfect. Tim would love the room. It was where he belonged.
Walking down the hall, Cathy dumped the bags in the kitchen as she walked passed, and then grabbed her jacket and keys off the mantle above the fireplace. She closed the front door and then quickly walked down the driveway. Cathy had chosen Mesa, Arizona, because they had never visited the city in their travels, and it was far enough away from Chicago so that they wouldn’t be so easily discovered. She had rented the house about a month ago. It had two stories, four bedrooms, and a very spacious backyard. It was everything she had promised Tim they would have one day. She had been undecided if she should go back for Tim, but when she had seen this house; she knew Tim belonged here with her. They were going to live out the life they had always dreamed about.
Backing out the driveway in her new truck, Cathy couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. She had enough money to be able to start a new life. She had even applied to the local college in order to finish her degree. The money wouldn’t last forever so she needed a backup plan. Cathy also knew that there were still hurdles to overcome. First, there was Shea. But she figured with the alias she was able to purchase for herself and Tim, they could remain hidden for a long while. Hopefully long enough to fall off the man’s radar. Second, there was Gibbs. With a frown marring her features, Cathy contemplated the problem of Leroy Jethro Gibbs as she pointed the truck towards the freeway that would take her to the airport. She knew without a doubt he would be a problem. She tightened her hands on the wheel, and determination coursed through her.
It was time to bring her son home.
~NCIS~
Ian O’Shaughnessy shifted uneasily, his discomfort growing by the second. He placed one hand over his lower stomach, pressing lightly in an attempt to dispel the pain. The little bastard had really done a number on him. He was mostly recovered, thanks to time and to the doctor that was on Shea’s payroll. Unfortunately, according to that same doctor, there was nothing to be done about the lingering pain in his abdomen. With any luck, it would fade with time, or it could be a lifelong reminder of when a teenager got the jump on him.
He should have shot the brat and the agent when he had a chance, but he had been so shocked by how the situation had turned against him that he had run away after hearing the sirens. Then again, the fact that the kid was still alive may have saved his life as far as Shea was concerned. Ian had done some awful fast talking in order not to end up in that shallow grave that he had threatened Liam with. Only after he had sworn that he could find Cathy through Tim had he gotten out of Shea’s office alive. The irony of becoming the Liam of this situation wasn’t lost on him. Although hopefully it doesn’t end the same. Shea had hedged his bets and had other men looking for Cathy using different means but O’Shaughnessy had asked to be assigned to watch Tim. He knew this was his last chance. Also, it was a bonus that he was out of Chicago right now because Shea was becoming more and more unstable. What with the pressure from the F.B.I. and the pressure from within the organization, his boss was becoming paranoid. Shea had flipped when he learned that Tim’s father was a federal agent. He became obsessed with the idea that Cathy was going to turn over the journals to Agent Gibbs at the earliest possibility.
So it was O’Shaughnessy’s job to watch Timothy McGee, until his mother showed up. Shea figured it was just a matter of time. O’Shaughnessy wasn’t as sure, considering the letter. He hadn’t told Shea about the letter that Tim had sent his mom or how Cathy hadn’t contacted the kid after. As far as O’Shaughnessy knew, Cathy could’ve fled the country, and him sitting outside the kid’s junior high was nothing but a fool’s errand. Plus, he was concerned that eventually one of the agents would catch on to him tailing Tim. Even though he took precautions by changing his car often, he knew it was only a matter of time.
A flash of red caught his drifting attention. Tim’s bright red backpack was not hard to spot in the crowd of teenagers. He watched as Tim climbed aboard the bus that would take him to the library. Tim would stay there for about an hour, then his grandfather would pick him up and they would go home. Then O’Shaughnessy would go back to the house he had procured that was situated directly behind Gibbs’ house.
He had set up the second story of that borrowed house with video and audio surveillance. He knew the moment anyone left the Gibbs house which allowed him to keep tabs on the household. It had been fortuitous that the two-story had been empty while its owner Erik Manning was on a six month academic sabbatical. He had moved in and convinced the one noisy neighbor he had met that he was Mr. Manning’s cousin. With the house being so close, he could keep an eye on Tim, and not be noticed by the seasoned investigators. Who undoubtedly would if he tried to trail Tim home every day. Although it was frustrating to follow a kid around day in and day out, O’Shaughnessy knew going back to Chicago empty-handed would be a one way trip for him, so when the bus pulled out into traffic, he waited for two cars to pass before he followed.
Chapter One
Author: honor_reid
Artist:
g_love99
Pairing: GEN
Rating: Mature
Length: 31,614
Warnings: Violence and threats of violence against a child. Past child neglect and abuse mentions. Drug addiction and recovery.
Author's note: This is the third story in my Marching On Verse. It probably won't make sense unless you read the first two stories, Marching On and The Days We Break. Many many thanks to my beta naemi who seriously is the best, and my stories are always a hundred percent better after she is done with them. Any remaining mistakes are my own. Also a huge thank you to my artist g_love99 they gave me so much art to chose from and it was all so awesome! Thank you to Solariana for putting this challenge together! Written for the ncis_bang. Also written for
hc_bingo square: substance addiction, table here
Summary: Tim finally has a family in Gibbs, Jackson, and the rest of the team. Unfortunately when his mother returns she brings a world of trouble with her.
We'll have the days we break
And we'll have the scars to prove it
We'll have the bonds we save
And we'll have the heart not to lose it
~Marchin On by OneRepublic
Sunday
Tim dashed down the basement stairs, in a hurry to join his father. He had finally finished with his homework. He had finals this upcoming week, and then he would be done with school, at least until July when summer school started. According to his teachers, he had one more block of classes left, and then he would be officially caught up with his fellow students. Tim was excited, but he was also worn out. He was ready for school to be over and done with.
It had been six months since the incident, as Tim was still calling it. He was now only seeing Dr. Patterson a couple a times a month rather than every week. Which was definitely an improvement as far as Tim was concerned. He did recognize that therapy had done him some good, but he past was the past. Best ignored and forgotten about.
His father was standing next to the work bench in the middle of the room. When he looked up, he gave Tim a broad smile, and waved him over. Gibbs was working on a project for the local VA. They were having a fundraising auction in August, and he was building a table and chairs that could be auctioned off. Tim was still impressed by how talented Gibbs was. He could build just about anything.
“How’s it going?” Tim asked.
Gibbs pointed behind him. “I’ve finished up the main pieces,” Tim could see a round table with four chairs pushed against the wall. “I’m now working on the decorative trim pieces.”
Now that Tim was standing in front of the bench, he saw long pieces of oak that were in various stages of completeness. Some just had rough pencil sketches drawn along the length, others had grooves cut out of them in a rough outline of the final design. One was completely finished. Moving closer, Tim could see the design was of ocean waves. Some were only small curls, but others were high crests that peaked at the top of the piece.
“Wow. These are awesome,” Tim said, wonder echoing in every word.
“Thanks Tim,” Gibbs said in a pleased voice. “If you want, I can teach you how to carve the designs?”
Looking over the various knives and chisels on the bench that Gibbs used to carve the waves, Tim wanted to say yes. He couldn’t help but flashback to the moment he had stood up and driven the chisel into the stomach of the man in the ski mask. The smell of gunpowder, the way the blood ran over his hand, and the scream that had echoed through the air.
Turning away, Tim counted to ten, just like Dr. Patterson had taught him, to stave off a panic attack. He felt a hand on his shoulder, and he permitted his father to draw him into a hug. Tim allowed himself to be comforted for a minute before he pulled away. He gave a concerned Gibbs a reassuring smile.
“Not yet. One day,” Tim said. It was the truth. Tim wanted to learn, but he wasn’t ready. That was another thing Dr. Patterson had helped him with: to recognize what his limitations were and that they were not failures, only the reality for the moment. Also, just because he was unable to handle something today didn’t mean it would always be that way. He needed to have patience with himself
“When you’re ready,” Gibbs stated before ruffling his hair. “How about you help me by sanding off the rough edges?”
Tim smiled in relief. That was something he appreciated about his dad. He never made fun of him or tried to push him. Tim was allowed to say no, and that no was respected.
He was reaching for the sandpaper when he spied a new addition to one of the shelves that was against the window. Gibbs used to have an old dial radio that only got oldies stations and static. Now, there was a CD radio combo unit.
Turning back towards Gibbs, Tim was about to ask when he was handed a CD case.
“I thought this would give us something to listen to other than elevator music,” Gibbs said.
Turning the case over, Tim saw it was an audio book of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight, translation by J.R.R. Tolkien.
“Have you read that one yet?” Gibbs asked.
“Actually, no. I’ve always wanted to, though,” Tim said excitedly. “Thank you so much. This is awesome! Can I put it on?”
“Yeah, go ahead.” Gibbs chuckled, at Tim’s enthusiasm.
Tim popped the CD into the player. He was beyond stoked. J.R.R. Tolkien was one of his favorite authors, but he had never read his take on the Arthurian legend of the Green Knight.
After making sure the disk would play, Tim returned to stand next to his father who handed him the sandpaper, and they got to work.
Sanding the rough edges was a somewhat mindless job, so Tim watched as his father picked up a carving knife and begun to transform the wood grain into a rolling ocean scene, and vowed that one day, he would be able to join him.
Tim and Gibbs worked side by side through the afternoon as the words of the unknown poet drifted through the air.
“Under heaven the first in fame,
Their king most high in pride;
It would now be hard to name
A troop in war so tried…”
~NCIS~
Seeing none of the beauty of the garden laid out before him, Jude stood on the porch. He usually liked spending time out front, especially in the evenings. Sometimes, him and the Doc would sit on the porch swing in the early evenings, watching the sunset and just talking about anything and everything. Ducky had a million and one stories up his sleeve, and somehow he always was able to tell one that got Jude to begin talking as well.
The Doc’s house was situated on a quiet street, so it was always fairly peaceful until the crickets started in the early evening, and even then Jude couldn’t begrudge the small noise they made. Mostly because his new life was so different and better than his old, and Jude was very grateful for the second chance given to him by Ducky.
Except for now he was being confronted with exactly how much he was lacking, in the education department at last. Jude rubbed a hand tiredly over his face. He was craving a cigarette something fierce. He had involuntarily broken the habit while he was in the hospital, but there were still times when he would kill for a one.
“Well, maybe not kill, only slightly maim,” Jude thought with a smirk on his face.
The reason he was missing nicotine like a lost limb was he had taken the first of seven practice tests for his GED. He had taken the exam through a website that had been set by the state to help people become more prepared to take the test. Jude had felt pretty confident going into it, but that confidence had slowly but surely slipped away after each question he had answered. Now Ducky had been tutoring Jude and helping him get caught up, but apparently, he still had a long way to go.
He had turned seventeen in March, and it was now June. Jude had nine months until he turned eighteen, and he wanted to get his GED before then. Once he had his GED he could get a job and move out. Although he loved it here, he wasn’t going to be a burden on the Doc any longer than he had to. He wasn’t a leech.
~NCIS~
Six months previous
“Here is the remote,” Ducky said, pointing at the grey rectangle remote that was next to a bottle of water, a cell phone, and a stack of novels on the side table next to Jude’s bed. “There is also a selection of books I thought you might be interested in. If those don’t interest you, I have more in the library, which is down the hall.”
Jude painfully scooted up until he was sitting against the headboard. He felt winded just from that small movement, so he didn’t think he would be getting up all that much. Jude had left the hospital yesterday afternoon and had felt nothing but the need to rest as much as possible. He kept drifting off in the middle of everything, watching TV, reading, even conversations. Thankfully, Ducky gave him a room with a bathroom because he didn’t think he could make it any further than that. He was doing much better since the attack, but he was still so weak and needed more help than he usually did.
Ducky threaded one arm through his jacket, then the other arm, and buttoned it up. “Now, I shouldn’t be gone more than a couple of hours. I know you just had lunch, but you are more than welcome to make yourself some food if you wish. I would recommend you stay in bed and rest up as much as possible though. I don’t like leaving you so early in your recovery but I need to sign some paperwork at the office.”
Jude couldn’t help but stare at Ducky in shock. “You’re just going to leave me, a virtual stranger, alone in your house?”
“Well yes,” Ducky said gently, with a confused look on his face.
“But you don’t know me. I could rob you blind in the couple of hours you’re gone and then just disappear never to be seen again,” Jude said slowly.
Ducky’s eyebrows raised a bit before he gave a chuckle. “Oh undoubtedly you could at least give it a good college try. And you could even get a fair amount before I returned, but I am not worried because I know you.”
Jude started to shake his head, but Ducky held up his hand to stop his denial, “I know we haven’t known each other long, so of course there are things I do not know but I also have faith in you, Mr. Carrington.”
Ducky gave him a reassuring smile before he left. Jude just stared in disbelief at the spot where the Doc had been standing. He knew Ducky was not naïve. No one could live the life that he had without being gaining experience and knowledge, in the workings of people, and both the good and the bad that they could do. Still the man was too trusting. Reaching for the remote so he could watch the game, Jude decided he would have to keep an eye out for him.
~NCIS~
Present
Out of the corner of his eye, Jude saw the porch light come on. He knew he needed to go back inside because the last thing he wanted was for Ducky to come outside. The Doc had been fighting a pretty severe cold all week, and Jude didn’t want the elderly man to have a setback. Ducky was a good guy, and he was always worrying about others, but he needed to take better care of himself.
Walking back into the house, Jude took off his baseball cap, hung it on the hall tree next to the door, and tucked a stray lock of hair behind his ear. He was so happy to have his hair finally back to the length it had been before his attack. He glanced briefly into the mirror and scowled a bit at his reflection. Although his black hair covered up most of the scar, it was still visible where it went diagonally across his forehead for about three inches. Jude briefly ran his finger over the mark, before shaking his head with a chuckle. When had he become so vain?
Walking into the kitchen, Jude saw that Ducky was bustling around the small room, getting dinner ready.
“Jude, there you are. I was just cooking dinner. Why don’t you start the salad?” Ducky said as he was sautéing onions on the stove.
Reaching into the fridge and grabbing the vegetables, Jude said, “No problem, Doc.”
Setting up the cutting board and starting to cut up tomatoes for the salad, he listened with half an ear to the Doc starting to tell a story about the time he had been on maneuvers with his outfit when they had been stranded in the middle of nowhere with minimal supplies. The story was both entertaining and funny especially the way Ducky told it. Although at the time, it must have been cold and miserable. After smiling and laughing through their prep for dinner, they were soon sitting at the dining room table, feasting on chicken risotto, and salad. Ducky was a good cook and seemed to really enjoy trying new recipes. Jude considered himself lucky that he got to taste all of his culinary experiments.
Once they were mostly finished, Jude asked, “How are you feeling?” Ducky looked better, but he was still pale.
“I appreciate the concern Jude, but I am doing fine,” Ducky said with a comforting smile, although his voice was a bit raspy.
“Okay,” Jude said with an uncertain smile in return.
Ducky cleared his throat and said in a voice laced with sympathy, “I didn’t want to disturb you earlier on the porch, but you do seem troubled. Jude, it is only a practice exam. Its purpose is to make you aware of where your weaknesses are so you can shore up those areas.”
Jude said bitterly, “Well it certainly did that.” Then, seeing Ducky looking back at him with nothing but patient understanding on his face, Jude continued, “You’re right. It was just a wakeup call for me. That’s all. I will have to work harder.”
Ducky patted him comfortingly on the hand. “You already work so hard at your studies. I am not at all worried you will pass the GED with flying colors come August.”
He started to rise and take the plates, but Jude beat him to it. “Why don’t you go rest in the living room? Do you want some tea?”
With a beleaguered yet amused sigh, Ducky said, “Yes, tea sounds delightful. And I will go rest even though I do not need it, but only if you will join me afterwards. We can play a round or two of cards.”
“You have deal.”
~NCIS~
Placing the last of the freshly laundered clothes in the wooden dresser, Cathy shut the drawer and turned around. Making one last inspection of the room she realized something was missing. Digging through the mostly empty shopping bags gathered at the bottom of the twin bed that was pushed against the far wall, she finally emerged with a triumphant “Aha!” She pulled out a brown leather-bound gilt-edged book from the last bag. Smiling widely, Cathy hugged the book to her heart before placing it gently on the side table next to the bed. She opened the front cover and ran a finger over the inscription.
“To Timothy, With Love Always Mom.”
Closing the cover and making sure the book was perfectly straight, Cathy smiled slightly. Before she changed her mind and picked it up again. She would take it with her as sort of peace offering for Tim. The journal was one of the first purchases she had made when she had gotten out of Oceanside Rehab. Tim was always writing in his journal, so she knew she had to have it as soon as she had seen it in the window. Scooping up the now empty shopping bags, Cathy took in a deep breath, and taking a few steps back, looked around the room. It was a medium sized room with a large window that let in a lot of natural Arizona sunlight; it also had a bed, a dresser, and a desk with a new computer on it. It was perfect. Tim would love the room. It was where he belonged.
Walking down the hall, Cathy dumped the bags in the kitchen as she walked passed, and then grabbed her jacket and keys off the mantle above the fireplace. She closed the front door and then quickly walked down the driveway. Cathy had chosen Mesa, Arizona, because they had never visited the city in their travels, and it was far enough away from Chicago so that they wouldn’t be so easily discovered. She had rented the house about a month ago. It had two stories, four bedrooms, and a very spacious backyard. It was everything she had promised Tim they would have one day. She had been undecided if she should go back for Tim, but when she had seen this house; she knew Tim belonged here with her. They were going to live out the life they had always dreamed about.
Backing out the driveway in her new truck, Cathy couldn’t help the smile that spread across her face. She had enough money to be able to start a new life. She had even applied to the local college in order to finish her degree. The money wouldn’t last forever so she needed a backup plan. Cathy also knew that there were still hurdles to overcome. First, there was Shea. But she figured with the alias she was able to purchase for herself and Tim, they could remain hidden for a long while. Hopefully long enough to fall off the man’s radar. Second, there was Gibbs. With a frown marring her features, Cathy contemplated the problem of Leroy Jethro Gibbs as she pointed the truck towards the freeway that would take her to the airport. She knew without a doubt he would be a problem. She tightened her hands on the wheel, and determination coursed through her.
It was time to bring her son home.
~NCIS~
Ian O’Shaughnessy shifted uneasily, his discomfort growing by the second. He placed one hand over his lower stomach, pressing lightly in an attempt to dispel the pain. The little bastard had really done a number on him. He was mostly recovered, thanks to time and to the doctor that was on Shea’s payroll. Unfortunately, according to that same doctor, there was nothing to be done about the lingering pain in his abdomen. With any luck, it would fade with time, or it could be a lifelong reminder of when a teenager got the jump on him.
He should have shot the brat and the agent when he had a chance, but he had been so shocked by how the situation had turned against him that he had run away after hearing the sirens. Then again, the fact that the kid was still alive may have saved his life as far as Shea was concerned. Ian had done some awful fast talking in order not to end up in that shallow grave that he had threatened Liam with. Only after he had sworn that he could find Cathy through Tim had he gotten out of Shea’s office alive. The irony of becoming the Liam of this situation wasn’t lost on him. Although hopefully it doesn’t end the same. Shea had hedged his bets and had other men looking for Cathy using different means but O’Shaughnessy had asked to be assigned to watch Tim. He knew this was his last chance. Also, it was a bonus that he was out of Chicago right now because Shea was becoming more and more unstable. What with the pressure from the F.B.I. and the pressure from within the organization, his boss was becoming paranoid. Shea had flipped when he learned that Tim’s father was a federal agent. He became obsessed with the idea that Cathy was going to turn over the journals to Agent Gibbs at the earliest possibility.
So it was O’Shaughnessy’s job to watch Timothy McGee, until his mother showed up. Shea figured it was just a matter of time. O’Shaughnessy wasn’t as sure, considering the letter. He hadn’t told Shea about the letter that Tim had sent his mom or how Cathy hadn’t contacted the kid after. As far as O’Shaughnessy knew, Cathy could’ve fled the country, and him sitting outside the kid’s junior high was nothing but a fool’s errand. Plus, he was concerned that eventually one of the agents would catch on to him tailing Tim. Even though he took precautions by changing his car often, he knew it was only a matter of time.
A flash of red caught his drifting attention. Tim’s bright red backpack was not hard to spot in the crowd of teenagers. He watched as Tim climbed aboard the bus that would take him to the library. Tim would stay there for about an hour, then his grandfather would pick him up and they would go home. Then O’Shaughnessy would go back to the house he had procured that was situated directly behind Gibbs’ house.
He had set up the second story of that borrowed house with video and audio surveillance. He knew the moment anyone left the Gibbs house which allowed him to keep tabs on the household. It had been fortuitous that the two-story had been empty while its owner Erik Manning was on a six month academic sabbatical. He had moved in and convinced the one noisy neighbor he had met that he was Mr. Manning’s cousin. With the house being so close, he could keep an eye on Tim, and not be noticed by the seasoned investigators. Who undoubtedly would if he tried to trail Tim home every day. Although it was frustrating to follow a kid around day in and day out, O’Shaughnessy knew going back to Chicago empty-handed would be a one way trip for him, so when the bus pulled out into traffic, he waited for two cars to pass before he followed.
Chapter One