Jericho

By Vivian Bloodmark

Chapter One – Subdued

Jackson Gibbs wasn't usually a fast mover. Although his step still had a little bit of a spring to it, years had taken the edge off his lunge. One thing he hadn't lost was his keen sense of direction, and it didn't take him nearly as long as he'd expected to find hospital room number 62. Without knocking, he opened the door, and presented himself stolidly before the surprised looking on-duty nurse. The only other occupant of the room was a figure in a bed, covered in tatty blankets, staring away from out the closed window.

"I'm here to see my son," Jackson told the nurse.

The man in the bed turned over slowly, propping his head up on one hand and craning his neck around to see better. "Dad?"

Jackson Gibbs swallowed hard. Hoarsely, he muttered, "Yeah. It's me. How you feeling, Leroy?"

Leroy Jethro Gibbs chuckled. "I've been better."

Gibbs certainly looked, thought Jackson, like hell. His face was drawn, pale, like he hadn't been eating or sleeping all that well. When he sat up to get a better look at his father, Gibbs revealed the scars on his chest, leftovers from the hasty work they'd had to do to repair his damaged lung. Still, Gibbs looked a lot better than Jackson had imagined, during the restless hour he'd spent on the red-eye flight to Washington. Knowing was always better than not knowing, and not knowing whether or not his son was gonna make it had taken a few extra years off of his life in just a few minutes.

"C'mere," said Gibbs. Jackson walked over and took a seat next to Gibbs' cot. "How are you, dad? How's the store?"

"Store's fine," Jackson muttered. "Hired one of the local boys to help me out, so I can get some more sleep at night. Thought I'd get a bit of a break, when all of a sudden I heard that someone had shot…had shot my son."

"Ducky called you," said Gibbs, not really accusing him, just stating a fact.

Jackson nodded. "Can't blame you for not doing it yourself, in your condition. Still…somehow I don't think that you'd have called, even if you could."

There was silence between the two men for a moment, as Jackson worked to get a better hold of himself. Gibbs looked thoughtfully at the tiled floor, before remarking quietly, "Wouldn't have wanted to worry you, dad. Nothing you could have done."

"I could have been here, Leroy!" Jackson's voice came out louder than he'd intended it. Much more quietly, he added, "and I am here, I guess. So there it is."

"Yeah," Gibbs agreed, "there it is."

"No father," whispered Jackson, "is ever supposed to outlive his son. Don't you make that man out of me."

The sound of the door closing made both men look up suddenly. The nurse, apparently having had enough of their heart to heart, had quietly taken herself elsewhere. Jackson sat up straight and cleared his throat, a little embarrassed at having had another person witness a scene that he knew Gibbs was probably already judging him for. "Got in," he began, "on a plane a couple of hours ago. Didn't feel comfortable driving all the way from Stillwater alone. I hope you don't mind, I put my stuff up at your place for the moment, till I can find somewhere else to sleep."

"You can stay with me," Gibbs said. "Plenty of room, if you don't mind the sofa."

That surprised Jackson, and he gave Gibbs a long, quizzical look. It hadn't occurred to him that he might not be the only unexpected guest staying over, and apparently it hadn't occurred to Gibbs either. "Sofa's taken," he said. "The way I hear it, she's got a right to it."

Gibbs stared at him. After a moment, he asked, as though he knew the answer, "who has?"

"That girl of yours. You know, the one with the scary shoes and the cute smile," said Jackson, raising an eyebrow. "Abigail."

***

At that moment, Abby was kneeling on the floor next to Gibbs' couch, watching the enraptured Amira playing with a very ugly plush toy rabbit. Nearby, Leyla was washing some of her daughter's clothes in the kitchen sink.

"This," Abby told Amira, "was my absolute most favorite stuffy ever when I was little. I guess he's not in such great condition now, and I've had to put that left button eye back on about, like, four times, but it's only because I loved him so much. Like the velveteen rabbit, who was loved so much that he became a real rabbit forever. I bet nobody's ever read you that book. Wonder if I still have it…"

While Abby wondered about her childhood book collection, the doorbell rang, and Leyla left her laundry on the counter to answer it. Immediately, Abby jumped up and got in her way.

"No way," she said, "you stay back there. I'll get it. We can't be too careful. It could be another attack."

The potential attacker turned out to be Doctor Donald Mallard, standing on the doorstep, looking exhausted, but cheerful. When Abby opened the door to him, he smiled wearily at her before stepping in and closing it behind him.

"Well, we're all set," he told Abby. "Mike Franks is safely installed in my guest room, and all that's left is to get these two lovely young women over to join him. Thank you," he said, directing this at Leyla as well as at Abby, "for watching out for each other for a couple of hours while we got things settled. I'm afraid my accommodations won't be terribly comfortable for three people, but what I have is yours to enjoy, and we should make out well enough for a few days."

Gathering Amira up in her arms, Leyla ascended into the basement to gather a couple of her last minute things. Abby was careful not to meet Ducky's eyes, and instead gazed around the room as though suddenly fascinated by the all too familiar upholstery. "He came out of surgery successfully a few hours ago," murmured Ducky, "and he's been awake and talking all morning. I'm sure he'd be more than delighted-!"

"Are you sure," asked Abby, cutting him quickly off, "that it's okay for Leyla and Amira to stay with you? What if there's more than just those four guys, or the one in Mexico comes back to finish the job? You can't let anything happen to you, Ducky, the team needs you! Gibbs needs you!"

"Gibbs," said Ducky with a sigh, "needs rest and relaxation, and to not have to worry about where to keep his family while they're holding him in the hospital. He could also use some affectionate attention, something which you normally have in remarkable abundance."

Abby wasn't sure if she wanted Ducky to ask her, or not to ask her. Part of her knew that if he directly insisted that she come to the hospital, she would say no, and that if she said no, Ducky wouldn't ask her to justify herself. He'd settle for her answer, and that wouldn't be enough. Abby wanted to have to explain herself to someone, because saying it out loud would give her the chance to get it all clear in her head. She wanted to see Gibbs very badly, and yet every time she thought about going to the hospital, it made her sick to think of what it would be like to have that first conversation with him, see that first look on his face. He wouldn't be angry enough, not angry enough to satisfy her. He'd be forgiving, and pitying, and that was something she didn't think she could stand, especially not after a temper tantrum of hers had almost lost him his life. She'd have to stay here, where she could be angry with herself, and where she wouldn't have to think too much beyond that, wouldn't have to look at the damage.

Ducky must have seen some of the resolution in her face, because he dropped the subject, turned on his heel, and wandered out again to his car. A few moments later, Leyla appeared from the basement, carrying Amira, and two small bags. Turning to Abby, she smiled a warm, beautiful, trusting smile, a smile that made Abby feel gross and fake. Then Leyla and Amira were gone, and Abby could hear Ducky's car pulling out of the driveway and down the road. She was alone with her ugly thoughts, the way she wanted it.

Over the last few hours, Abby had begun to feel more than just guilty. Now, she felt guilty and ungrateful. The initially incredible feeling that had rushed over her when Ducky had called to say that Gibbs was going to be all right had been so much more than relief. Ever since the moment Gibbs had left in the ambulance, Abby had been promising herself that if he made it through, she'd never ask for anything again, not for her whole life. Now, though, she wanted one more wish, one more opportunity to ask for the ability to become invisible to everyone, even to herself.