Summary: Gibbs has been haunted by the ghosts of those he lost for far too long - has his soul finally been broken beyond repair?

SeSa 2015 fic for Smackalicious - Merry Christmas, Sherry! I hope you love it!

Notes: This story is going to take place just after Thanksgiving... I haven't seen any of season 13 yet, so this story is not going to follow anything that's currently going on in the show.

This fic was inspired by "21 Guns" by Green Day. There is also another song in which I reference in the fic - "Count your Blessings (Instead of Sheep)" - written by Irving Berlin, and performed by Bing Crosby in the movie "White Christmas."

Warnings: Spoilers for Season 12 in general... if you're still catching up, there are some major things that happened in S12, so be forewarned.

Chapter 1

The boat was nearly finished. He could probably pull an all-nighter, get her sanded down, but tonight, he sat on a stool, glass in his hand, staring at it. Just staring.

He'd lost so much this year... Diane being shot, and after that he'd had to watch the body of Ned Dorneget being carried off of a plane. Another ghost that was going to haunt him for the rest of his life. Another person he couldn't save.

He raised the glass to his lips with a shaking hand, and took a long gulp of bourbon. He'd decided that tonight would be it; no one else was going to die because of him. He wouldn't allow it. He poured himself some more bourbon, and reached for the SIG Sauer lying on his workbench.

You're a damn coward, Jethro.

He could hear Diane's voice, clear as day. That happened sometimes. He saw the ghosts, too... when they wanted him to see them.

"It's over."

No it's not. Since when do you give up on anything?

"Too many people. I can't do it anymore. I won't."

Stop blaming yourself for things you can't control, Leroy.

Jackson's voice took the place of Diane's.

"I could have prevented it all, Dad. That's the kicker."

You have too much guilt on your shoulders... you need to let it go, Son.

He cocked the gun and checked it over a second time.

"I can't let it go."

You're a stubborn ass, Gibbs.

Kate was standing in front of him. She appeared to him in full form regularly.

"It's the way it has to be, Katie."

The Gibbs I met on Air Force One would go down fighting … not by his own hand. I'm disappointed, Gibbs. I thought you were different.

"I'm not the same man anymore. I can't-"

Thwack!

It was light, and felt more like air than flesh and bone, but he felt the head slap.

You don't have permission to die.

Gibbs looked up at the image of Kate. She was glaring at him with that pissed off look on her face that always made him grin like an idiot.

"You using my own words against me, Agent Todd?"

Someone has to get through that thick skull of yours.

Gibbs looked down at the SIG in his hand. He had to do this... there really was no other way. This was it.

He threw back the rest of the bourbon, and set the empty glass down on the workbench behind him.

The gunshot sliced through the silence of the house.

Tony found him the next morning, on his basement floor. Terror faded to relief when he felt for a pulse and found one, and he screamed at a 911 operator to send an ambulance right away.

"Damn it, Gibbs... why the hell would you do this?"

The paramedics were there quickly, and Tony watched as they took Gibbs away on a stretcher to a waiting ambulance. They didn't tell him much, only that Gibbs was lucky he'd missed when he tried to shoot himself in the head.

Tony followed the ambulance to the hospital, and called Tim and Ellie on the way. He also put in a call to Vance. He told them all not to tell Abby yet... if she attached herself to Gibbs, he'd shut down before they had a chance to find out how the hell this happened.

Tim met Tony in the ER waiting room. The hospital staff instructed them to wait there until they came to get them.

"What the hell happened?" Tim asked.

"He tried to shoot himself in the head... the damn idiot missed and grazed the side of his head."

"I don't understand why he would do this," Tim said, shaking his head.

Tony was about to respond when the ER doors burst open, and Vance stepped inside. Tony waved a hand to get his attention, and Vance made his way across the waiting room.

"Any update?"

"They just wheeled him in about fifteen minutes ago," Tim reported. "He tried to shoot himself in the head, and he missed."

Vance sat down across from them.

"Damn."

"What are we going to do? He's not going to listen to me or McGee," Tony said. "He's a stubborn bastard, and he always will be."

Vance sat silently, taking in Tony's words. He was right - Gibbs was in a state in which anything his Agents said to him would go in one ear and out the other. If anyone was going to get through to Gibbs at this point, it had to be him.

"Party for... Jethro Gibbs?"

Vance stood up before Tony or Tim had the chance to.

"I'm Leon Vance, Director of NCIS. Gibbs is one of my Agents."

The Doctor shook Vance's hand.

"Your Agent was very lucky... an inch or two the other direction, and he'd have definitely done what he'd intended to."

There was a brief, awkward silence.

"I understand that a situation like this is very sensitive. I have to inform you that the hospital is required to have the patient evaluated by a psychiatrist before he or she is released."

"When will we be able to see him?" Vance asked.

"His psychiatrist will come out shortly after his preliminary evaluation to let you know what will happen."

"Understood. Thank you, Doctor."

The Doctor smiled and left them to their thoughts.

"That psychiatrist is going to have a hell of a time getting Gibbs to say anything," Tony said.

"You're right, Tony... but we have to wait this out."

So they waited.

TBC...