Okay, I don't actually like the title very much, but I can live with it. xD

Help to Heal the Wounds

"It's all okay now... Relax."

Gibbs' voice was quiet, yet it almost deafened her sensitive hearing. The various car lights around her blinded her where she was seated on the hood of an agent's car, waiting for him to return. Wearing only a thin sweater, a pair of pants and socks, she was shivering uncontrollably in the cold wind, almost entirely drenched through by the rain that had stopped mere minutes ago. At the sound of his voice, she winced slightly, making him frown in concern.

"Here." he said softly, shrugging off his coat and draping it around her shoulders. She didn't flinch this time. One limp hand reached up to hold onto it by the collar, pulling it tighter around her. Her brilliant green eyes were wide open and staring down into her lap, reflecting no emotion.

He couldn't bear it, seeing her so vulnerable and run-down.

"I'm here to take you home. Come on, Jen." he added gently in a tone he rarely took. Very carefully, he helped her slide down the bonnet and onto the road, wrapping an arm around her shoulders and leading her towards his parked car, not thirty feet away. From the first step, it was obvious something was wrong, though. Looking down at her, he realised why she was at such a distinctly lower height than usual; she wasn't wearing her signature heels. Or any shoes whatsoever. Her socks were soaking up the water from the cold asphalt, making her shiver more intensely.

Jethro bit his lip worriedly, eyeing her up and down, calculating, before he even dared lift her up into his arms. She didn't protest. He carried her to his car as tenderly as if he were carrying a newborn baby, setting her down into the passenger's seat.

"I'm going to drive you home now, Jen." he informed her, blue eyes searching for any reaction, any sign of emotional response. He didn't get one, but she did give a slight nod in agreement. Relieved that she seemed to be coming out of the shock slowly, he took his own seat and drove her towards his house, taking extra care to drive slowly and carefully.

Right now, he was her support, and he would be damned if he scared her over something as unnecessary as speeding.

During the car ride, the ex-marine kept snatching quick glances at his old partner, his face even more lined than usual. When he had gotten that call... His heart had almost frozen when he had heard her desperate voice begging for him to come before she had been disconnected.

Jen never begged.

He had rushed up instantly, yelling for the team to assemble... but that all didn't matter now. Jen was safe. That was all that mattered to him now. He had left Tony, Ziva and McGee in charge of the body and the crime scene so that he could tend to their director. Sneaking another peek at Jenny, it physically hurt him to see her curled up and dazed. He had never thought of her as vulnerable, not until that night...

"We're here." he announced quietly as he pulled into his driveway, hitting the breaks gradually. Turning to face her, he saw her give another minute nod. That was enough for him then. Again carrying her, he got her out of the car and up to his door. As they walked into his hallway, he realised she had tensed at first, only to relax when she understood they were in his and not her own house.

He was glad he had brought her here.

"Jen, we need to get you out of those clothes." he ventured tentatively, looking down at the bedraggled woman in his arms. For the longest time, he thought she wouldn't reply.

"Okay." she answered at last, her first word since they had gotten to her. Her voice was hoarse, throaty, but not as fragile as he had expected it to be. Finally, she was starting to come out of it.

"Okay, then." he answered her a little louder, pleased to see that she didn't flinch. She was blinking a little bit more, her eyes dropping as if she were trying to shake off intense drowsiness. Her hair was messy and all over the place, but it didn't hide her face from him; he'd made sure of that. "I'm taking you upstairs."

Still in his arms, Jen allowed herself to be taken to his bathroom and set down on the toilet lid. She didn't protest when he knelt in front of her and removed her sopping socks, her arms hugging her body slightly. Her eyes focused on his hands, still with no trace of emotion in them, but clearer.

When her socks were off, Jethro looked up and caught her gaze, his blue eyes filled with concern and hesitation. "I'm going to take the rest of your clothes off now." he said slowly, his warm hands cupping her frozen feet to warm them up a little.

"Okay." he got in reply.

Thankful that she wasn't being difficult, Gibbs reached over to turn off the tap he had turned on earlier, having filled the bath halfway with hot water. Reaching for her light gray sweater, he pulled it off her body slowly, before leaving it onto the floor beside him. In the same way, he discarded her trousers and underwear. Had it been any other situation, he would have appreciated her body. As they were then, however, he didn't even pay attention.

"Come on, Jenny." he coaxed, putting her onto her feet and into the tub. He noticed she shuddered when she knelt down in the hot water, goosebumps rising along her arms and back. The only thing he could do to soothe her was to scoop hot water over her until she stopped shaking, then turn in the water. Taking the shower head into his hand, he proceeded to wash her hair out gently and scrub her body down. She had her eyes closed during the process, but she began moving willingly for him and taking control.

After about half an hour, she opened her eyes again and looked at him, kneeling by her on the floor. Green met blue and, in her eyes, he could finally see the churning sea of emotion she was struggling through. Gently, he rubbed her back with his hand, earning a wobbly smile in gratitude.

"I'll rinse the rest off myself, Jethro." Jen said in a low but steady voice, reaching for the shower head. He nodded in reply, getting to his feet.

"I'm going to get some clean clothes for you." he replied. On his way out, he laid out a bathrobe out for her and picked up her clothes. Those he stuffed in the hamper before he went into his room.

He waited for a quarter of an hour before she came out, wrapped in the toweling robe. She looked a little shaky on her feet, but much better than before; she was moving, at least, and making an effort to function.

"Here." he said, nodding at the pile of clothes on the bed. "I'll wait outside for you to dress. Or do you ned my help?"

"I'll be fine." she replied softly, rubbing her body dry as he closed the door. He waited right outside just in case she did need his help, but he was worrying for nothing. Five minutes later, she came out wearing an overlarge sweater of his, a pair of sweatpants and a pair of his boxers. Her wet hair was trailing down her neck.

On either side of the doorway, the two ex-partners stared each other down. Jen's expression was almost daring him to say something, anything. He didn't bite. Instead, he got a smaller towel and wrapped it around her hair.

"What do you say to some hot chocolate?" he asked her tentatively. He'd noticed how she was starting to tremble again, from the shock, this time, he supposed. She looked remarkably calm and in control, but he knew that would only last until the last of the shock wore off and it all hit her at once.

He was there to ease that sudden tidal wave.

"Would love some..." she answered forlornly and, once again, it broke his heart to see her so defenseless. Without another word, he led her downstairs and settled her onto the sofa with a blanket around her shoulders, staring at the wall. He hated to leave her there, but there was no comfortable place to sit in the kitchen, and he wouldn't have her standing for fear of her suddenly collapsing.

""I'll be right back." he promised. A nod. True to his word, he was back in three minutes, handing her a mug of hot chocolate with extra sugar- sugar helped shock victims, he had heard.

Gingerly, Jen sipped the sweet, warm liquid mechanically, curled up tightly on the sofa. Jethro had sat down by her, in the meantime, stroking her back supportively. For a while, neither said anything. Jen drank her hot chocolate and he watched her protectively, measuring her reaction to every little thing. When the mug was empty, she leaned forward to set it on the table. Her hand was shaking.

Gently, a warm hand ensconced her own, guiding the mug to safety on the coffee table. Looking down at their hands, Jen squeezed his gently. She was shaking again. Jethro still stroked her back before he heard a sob slip past her guard. He blinked in surprise when a tear fell onto their joined hands, trickling down into the carpet.

That seemed to break the dam she had been holding back. Sobs suddenly came pouring out of her chest and, trembling like a leaf, she threw herself into his arms, face pressed close to his chest. Tenderly, Jethro held her tight against him, stroking her hair and back.

"I was so scared..." Jen managed to get through her sobs, finally expressing everything she'd been haunted by the past twelve hours. Gibbs pulled more tightly against him, making soothing sounds. Now that the dam had burst, he could help her. Now that she was herself again, they could get past this. Together.

"Sh..." he murmured against her hair, planting a soft kiss on the crown of her head. "I've got you, Jen. Always."