Holiday Spirits: Chapter 3 - A Past That Haunts Him
Holiday Spirits: Chapter 3 - A Past That Haunts Him
Disclaimer: I still don’t own NCIS, A Christmas Carol or It’s a Wonderful Life. I don’t make any money on this either.
Author's Note: All additional wanrings, info, etc...can be found at Chapter 1
Go back to the beginning Chapter 1
Go back to Chapter 2
Chapter 3 - A Past That Haunts Him
Jethro was sitting in the dark with the exception of the flickering TV he’d left on and the streetlight coming in the window. There was a half-empty bottle of bourbon on the coffee table surrounded by old photographs he’d dug out before putting in the movie that he had retrieved from the men’s room trash can.
He could watch dvds now. A few months ago, Tony had given Jethro his old TV and dvd player when he had bought himself a bigger plasma and a Blu-ray. Jethro had grudgingly accepted it and, even more grudgingly, had learned how to use it.
He wasn’t sure why he had put the movie on as he wasn’t been paying attention to it. Instead, he was wallowing. He knew it but he couldn’t seem to break himself out of it. He had taken quite a few nips but wasn’t drunk enough to make the day disappear. It had been a long and , exhausting, fraught with tension between Tony and him as they worked the case. In the end they had reunited a family. He should be feeling warm and fuzzy.
Instead, he couldn’t stop thinking about how Tony had left. His father had called to summon him to dinner and Tony had been like an excited ten-year old. As soon as they had delivered Missy Johnson to her home, Tony had asked Jethro if he wrap up the report the next day. Jethro knew Tony was willing to work on Christmas Day for a chance to have dinner with his father. The worried look on Tony’s face told him he expected Jethro to refuse his request. As much as he wanted to keep Tony with him under any excuse, Jethro couldn’t bear to see the look of disappointment he had seen earlier. He left Tony go with a wistful, “Go. Have a Merry Christmas, Tony.”
“You too, Boss!” Tony seemed to have forgiven him his earlier outburst.
The smile that had lit up Tony’s face was worth it. Jethro loved seeing Tony when he was truly happy. But this time it crushed him as well. He knew that smile wasn’t really for him but for his father. And he was left alone again.
A car horn outside pulled his attention back to the present. He looked up to see the movie was still playing. The volume was set so low he could barely hear it. He realized that the movie must have restarted as it was near the beginning of the film but it seemed very late. Had he fallen asleep? All he remembered was staring at the ceiling as he drank from the bottle.
To Jethro’s astonishment the grandfather clock chimed midnight. He looked around finding it hard to believe he had slept for four straight hours. He was about to get up to go get some water when a figure in the corner of the room startled him.
“Who are you?” Jethro asked. The air in the room chilled and a shiver went through him.
“So Probie…sitting in the dark and drinking alone? What kind of asinine way is that to spend Christmas Eve?”
“Mike?” asked Jethro, recognizing the deep, gravelly voice and the familiar scent of Mike’s favored Marlboro Menthols filling the room.
“Who else would come to see your sorry ass while you’re like this?” Mike stepped forward into the dim light. He looked much the same as Jethro remembered him.
“I must be dreaming again,” Jethro said as he looked around.
“Or maybe I’m the Ghost of Christmas Past,'' Mike laughed and took a deep drag off the cigarette he held in his left hand. The smoke created a sort of odd glow around Mike’s face. He seemed almost translucent.
Jethro stared at him incredulously.
“Just kidding,” Mike said.
“I saw Jenny last night,” Jethro said, hesitantly. He shook his head and then muttered to himself, “I must be losing my mind. First Jenny visits, then you show up?”
Mike picked up the half-empty bottle of Fighting Cock bourbon that had been on the table. Reading the label, he laughed. “Interesting choice, Probie. Some might say apropos.” He then sniffed at it and winced. “108 proof? Well, I guess drinking too much of that crap would cause anyone to see spirits. They say it takes spirits to see spirits.” He seemed amused with himself.
“Why are you here?” Jethro asked, closing his eyes trying to decide if he wanted Mike to answer or not.
“Your welfare?'' Mike offered with a hint of amusement in his voice.
Jethro opened his eyes and looked at him doubtfully. He couldn’t help but think that a solid night of sleep would be more helpful in that regard. He needed to reconsider his sleeping arrangements.
Mike held out a hand. “Rise and walk with me!” he said dramatically. “I’ve always wanted to say that.” Mike laughed. When Jethro stayed where he was, Mike sat down next to him on the couch. “Or we can stay here. No matter.” Mike picked up a photo from the table, “What’s this, Probie? Looks like you’re tripping down memory lane again. Haven’t you lost too much already by going down this road?” he asked, sounding disappointed.
Jethro had pulled out photos from the last Christmas he had spent with Shannon and Kelly. It was in 1990 before he had redeployed and just two months before their deaths.
Several photos showed an overly decorated tree covered with the handmade ornaments Kelly made in school and Shannon’s Santa ornaments which she had collected over the years. The woman had loved the holidays. The tree now in the room had none of those ornaments. It was sparsely decorated with the few ornaments his father had brought from Stillwater two years ago.
The photo Mike held showed a grinning Kelly with a gap in her smile where her tooth had fallen out. She was standing in front of a large white dollhouse.
“Nice dollhouse. Yours?” Mike asked.
“I made it for Kelly,” Jethro said as he looked over at the photo Mike held. The dollhouse was decorated with intricate details and handmade furniture. “She was so happy when she saw it, I thought she’d never stop smiling. As much as she was a tomboy and loved playing baseball with her dad, she loved playing with her dolls more.” Jethro felt a single tear roll down his cheek. He remembered Shannon’s complaints about how much time he had spent in the basement as he had worked on it, but Kelly’s joy had made it worthwhile.
“Where is it now?'' Mike asked. “Burn it like you did the boats?”
“Up in the attic. Couldn’t destroy it; it was Kelly’s,” Jethro whispered. “Strange. I forgot I still had it.'' He hadn’t seen it in years. He’d taken it upstairs, shoved it into a corner and covered it with a sheet.
“You hid it away like you did with all of their memories. Hid them from yourself and everyone who cares about you.” Mike placed the photo back down on the table and looked around the room. “There’s not a single framed photo of them out here. Where’d you have to go to dig these out?”
“People know about them,” Jethro argued. He didn’t want to admit he had to bring the photos up from the basement.
Mike raised an eyebrow, clearly disagreeing with Jethro’s assessment. “They know the facts of them, not the heart of them. If it wasn’t for that explosion, they wouldn’t even know that much. How long were you planning to keep them buried?”
“They were mine! No else had a right to them,” Jethro shouted. Mike had hit a nerve. Jethro hated when anyone discussed Shannon and Kelly.
“So you hoarded them until they used up so much space inside that you had no room for anyone else. Until you let them go, there never will be.” Mike paused and then leaned forward. “Memories cannot keep you warm at night, Probie. They can’t share your joy or your pain. There’s nowhere to go with these photos but backwards.”
Jethro shifted uncomfortably. “I’ve tried to replace her. It never worked. It wasn’t the same.”
“Because you can’t replace her!” Mike stood up in frustration. “You are looking for the wrong thing. You can’t replace people. That’s what makes them special.”
“Then what the hell are you talking about?” Jethro stood up, running his hands through his hair, feeling as frustrated as Mike looked. “Isn’t that what you’re here about? To tell me to get my head out of my ass and find a new Shannon?”
“Well, at least you know where your head is at now so that’ll save some time,” Mike said. He sat back down on the couch and leaned back.
Jethro waited for him to continue.
After a moment, Mike took a deep breath and sat up to focus on Jethro. “You don’t need a new Shannon. I’m talking about finding someone who can share your pain and your joy. Someone who understands and accepts you for who you are now, not who you were then, because Probie, you ain’t the same person. Can’t remember who said it - some fancy philosopher I guess - but the crux is this: the same man can’t step into the same river twice; the second time, he ain’t the same man and it ain’t the same river. And you, Probie, are in Denial River big time.”
“Very deep, Mike,” Jethro retorted and flopped into the green side chair. “I’m denying nothing. There’s nothing to deny. There’s no one who could mean what Shannon and Kelly meant to me.”
“They don’t have to mean the same thing. No two people ever mean the same thing to anyone. Just gotta be important. Love is important and it ain’t ever the same twice. Doesn’t mean it don’t happen.”
Gibbs laughed sadly. “Mike, you’re a heck of a person to tell me about love.”
“I might not have gone for any of that romantic pap swill Hallmark sells, it don’t mean I didn’t care about people. Hell, I’m here, ain’t I? You must mean something to me.” Mike scratched his forehead as if he were still trying to figure out what that was.
Jethro laid his head back on the chair and stared at the ceiling. “It might mean you are just some old steak and one too many glasses of bourbon.”
“Great. I’ve been reduced to indigestion and a hangover. Why do I bother?” Mike took another deep inhalation of his cigarette.
Jethro sat back up and looked at Mike. “Look. I appreciate the sentiment but there’s no one like that in my life. There’s no one I love or loves me back. Nor is there anyone I could love like that.” He closed his eyes for a second and struggled to swallow the lie.
Jethro’s eyes flew open in shock at the smack on the back of his head. How had Mike moved that fast? He was now on the arm of the chair next to Jethro.
“Are you really that willfully blind or are you just stupid?” Mike asked. He reached into his pocket and pulled something out. He handed it to Jethro. It was an old Polaroid. It looked somewhat familiar but it wasn’t his photograph. In the dark, it was hard to make the image out.
“Who’s this?” Jethro stood and walked over to the couch so he could use the streetlight to illuminate the image. He didn’t even consider turning a lamp on. There was a handsome young man in sweats sitting by a window filled with falling snow. In the background was a sadly decorated tree with nothing underneath it. His face was in profile and he looked remarkably sad.
“The school was not quite deserted,'' said Mike. “There was someone neglected by his parents his entire life and left there for yet another holiday. He’d been waiting too long for his father to arrive when someone snapped this shot of him.”
Jethro held it up so more light shone on it. He finally remembered the photo. He had seen it at Tony’s place when he and McGee had gone to pick up some things for him as Tony recovered from the plague at Jethro’s house. The photo had been stuck in a drawer and Jethro had seen it as he gathered Tony’s clothes. He didn’t know what it had meant at the time but he remembered how beautifully sad he had thought Tony looked in it. He had quickly pocketed it when McGee had walked into the room.
Now Jethro looked closer at the picture. “Senior never showed up,” Jethro explained to Mike. “Tony told me about it after…well…” He couldn’t finish it saying it. The thought of how close he’d come to losing Tony choked him up. “Tony always shares more when he’s on painkillers,” Jethro said instead.
“He had some last minute business in Bali. Couldn’t make it and I had already missed going to Steve’s parent’s for the holidays. At least I got my work done early and had plenty of time for New Year’s partying,” Tony had explained in a slurred voice and a sad smile. Jethro had seen the pain on Tony’s face at the reminder of another disappointment. That was the first year Jethro had asked Tony to stay for Christmas. He never wanted his Second to not have somewhere to go.
“Did you think less of him when he shared those memories with you?” Mike asked, breaking Jethro out of his recollection of that conversation.
“Of course not,” Jethro replied. Jethro appreciated any time Tony was willing to share a part of his life.
“Then why would you think he would not understand your loss or think less of you for sharing it?”
Jethro had no answer. “I’m not sure I’m getting your point, Mike. So you’re saying I should what - tell Tony about my relationship with Shannon? That somehow if I spill everything to him, it will somehow free me to find the right woman?”
Mike rolled his eyes. “You’re a couple pickles shy of a barrel, ain’t ya?”
Jethro stared at him in complete bafflement. He really didn’t get where Mike was going with this. He felt like he should but that something was blocking his ability to get the point.
Mike reached into his other pocket and pulled out another, even older photograph. “You remember this?”
Jethro felt the blood drain from his head as he saw the picture. He dropped it immediately and it fell on the coffee table. “Where in the hell did you get this? I’ve never told anyone about this.”
“No, you didn’t. You buried this memory right along with all the others. You buried it so deep, you forgot all about it.”
Jethro stared down at the image of someone that had haunted him a long time. It had been one of the most important turning points in Jethro’s life and he had tried his damndest to forget it. He almost had.
Mike coughed which got Jethro’s attention.
“You ever wonder why you were so drawn to Shannon just as you were running out of town?” Mike asked as he picked the photo up again and gazed at it.
“She…I liked her. She was easy to get along with. She was caring,” Jethro answered cautiously, suspicious of the change in topic.
“And she wasn’t a boy, was she? She wasn’t someone you were almost caught necking with behind the old Manheim Gas Station by those boys that picked on you so much. She was an easy way to avoid having to go out with the guys in your unit to pick up girls ‘cause you had one at home.”
“I loved her!” Jethro yelled. He felt his hackles rise. He didn’t like where Mike was going with this.
“Never said you didn’t. She was just the easier of two choices. You grew to love her, in a way. You idealized her. It was easy, wasn’t it? You were gone so much it was easy to create someone that wasn’t quite real. Someone that no other woman could live up to.”
Jethro could tell Mike was baiting him. He was trying hard not to respond but felt his fists clenching in anger.
Mike blew smoke into Jethro’s face. “Was Shannon ever near as perfect as you made her out to be?”
“Get out!!” Jethro was livid. His face flushed with anger. How dare Mike insinuate he had used Shannon to hide his own…weakness. He had loved her. He had! That other thing was a ...fluke, a flaw…a mistake.
“Well, my time’s almost up anyways,'' Mike said as he glanced at the clock. “You need to get your head screwed on right. I can’t keep coming back like this to fix your messes.” Mike dropped the cigarette onto the floor and squashed it with his foot. Jethro could smell the smoke burning carpet fiber.
In irritation, Jethro snapped, “My messes! How is this my fault?”
“Your jealousy is about to end you. Your jealousy and your cowardice to admit the truth.”
“What truth?” Jethro knew he was fighting a losing battle but he was going to hang on to his version of reality as long as he could. He didn’t know how to exist otherwise.
“Don’t you deny it,” Mike spat when Jethro was about to protest further. “You remember how you felt when Kate stayed with Tony when he was ill. You realized she finally saw Tony for who he really was and not the damn mask he wore. You were afraid of her. Afraid she would finally offer and Tony would accept. You were jealous, weren’t you?”
“Jealous of Tony? No, I wasn’t. I was never interested in Kate.” Jethro felt a lump in his throat. It was similar to the time Abby had wanted to confront him about Pedro Hernandez. He knew he had been caught but he hadn’t been ready to come clean. This had that same sense of impending doom. Jethro knew something was about to dramatically alter his life and he wasn’t ready for it to change.
Mike waved his arms in impatience. “I wasn’t talking about Kate. When are you going to fess up that you’ve had your eye on that boy since Baltimore. You’ve just had your head too far up your ass to admit it.”
Mike picked up the photo and threw it back at Jethro. It landed in Jethro’s lap.
Jethro looked down and saw the image of him and his best friend, John Merits, smiling with their arms thrown around each other's shoulders. He remembered the attractive teenager with a pang. It was about the last time he had ever felt completely carefree. John was the first and only boy he’d ever kissed. The few girls he had kissed had never done much for him. He had just figured it was the small town they lived in which every girl was like your sister because you’d known them for so long. Then he’d been so surprised he’d been so drawn to John, his best friend. He had kissed John and John had allowed it for about a minute before pushing him away, disgusted. John promised to never tell anyone but he had stated he never wanted to see or talk to Leroy ever again.
So that’s when ‘Leroy’ disappeared. Jethro ran, vowing to ignore those impulses that drew him physically towards men. He pretended those urges didn’t exist. When he heard that John had died several years later, he acted as if he never knew him when made love to Shannon that night. He also pretended he didn’t turn her over and take her from behind in the dark, imagining someone else in her stead for the first and only time in their marriage.
His knees buckled as those memories threatened to swallow him and force him to see the truth about himself. A truth he’d denied for so long that he almost believed the lie he had replaced it with. He collapsed onto the sofa, almost weak from the revelations.
The TV flickered. It’s a Wonderful Life was continuing to play without Jethro paying attention to it.
Clarence, the angel, said, “You'll see a lot of strange things from now on.”
Jethro looked at the screen and wondered if Clarence was talking to him or to George Bailey. He closed his eyes trying to shove the memories back into their previous hiding places, but they were refusing to be locked up again.
After a while, he gave up and opened his eyes. Mike was gone. Not even the stench of the cigarette smoke that permeated the air around Mike lingered. Jethro began to think that maybe had drunk more bourbon that he realized.
Go to Chapter 4