"The emotion that can break your heart is sometimes the very one that heals it."

-Nicholas Sparks from his book "At First Sight"

Scar

Fourth Installment in the Vulnerable Series

If one more person said to her—It's not your fault; Maybe it was a blessing in disguise; You're still young, so there'd be other chances for you—the shit would most certainly hit the fan.

In the grand scheme of things, she knew they meant well and quite frankly, had no idea of what to say in this particular situation. Who would really? But when they uttered those phrases, it only brought the pain back in full force—it didn't ease anything within here. She wished they would just simply say "I'm sorry" and let her wallow in her grief—in complete and utter silence.

They wanted her to talk about it. Relive it.

Couldn't they see that she did not want to talk about it? Clearly they were not blind. Did they not understand that by talking about it wouldn't solve anything? Talking brought everything back to the surface—the gut wrenching pain; the all consuming guilt(that this was somehow her fault); and the heartbreaking grief.

No, she did not want to talk about it. Any of it. What she wanted to do right now was to not think about it. Not think about anything for that matter.

Why couldn't they just let her be?

Was that really too much to ask for?

Kate rolled onto her side—facing the window—and watched the first rays of the sunrise lighten the dark sky. Felt the tears form in her eyes and then trail down her cheeks to soak into the pillow.

How long until she felt normal again? How long until she could close her eyes and not see everything she and Gibbs had loss? How long until she could gaze at Gibbs and not feel to blame for the sadness in his crystal blue irises?

Not able to look at the beauty of the sunrise any longer, she closed her eyes—the tears leaked out of the corner of her eyes as she cried herself to sleep for what seemed like the hundredth day in a row.

A gentle hand ghosted over her forehead and through her auburn tresses—lovingly bringing her out of her nightmare. It cupped her cheek and she instinctively leaned into the touch.

It soothed. It comforted. It chased away all the demons. She didn't want to open her eyes—afraid the comfort and love would fade away immediately.

Kate opened her eyes, expecting to see Gibbs, but was greeted with a soft lop-sided grin that belonged to none other than Abby. "Where's Gibbs?" she whispered softly.

"I sent him home to get cleaned up. Told him that he would scare you when you woke up the next time.

Kate laughed softly.

Abby's heart swelled. That was the first time she'd heard Kate's melodic laugh since...

"Abby," Kate sighed, cutting through the Goth's thoughts—she had seen the look that flashed over her friend's face and knew immediately where the Goth's thoughts had gone-,"it's going to take some time. You understand?"

The raven-haired woman grasped her friend's hand in hers. "I've respected your wishes, Kate. You haven't wanted to talk and I haven't pushed you to do it."

"I know," the agent whispered softly.

"I don't think any less of you because of what happened to you. This wasn't your fault. I know that you think it was, but it wasn't. You did nothing wrong."

She choked, "Abby..."

How could she? How could she tell her friend that not only did she suffer a miscarriage, but the doctors had also performed a hysterectomy on her? Her case had been very rare—the doctors had been unable to control the severe bleeding that had been a result of the miscarriage.

She could handle not being able to have her own children. What she wouldn't be able to handle would be the pity that would ultimately flash in everyone's eyes once the information of the hysterectomy got out.

Kate shook her head, "I can't, Abby. I can't."

The Goth reached up with her free hand and wiped away some tears with her thumb. "It's okay, it's okay," her voice soothing. She leaned forward and softly kissed Kate's forehead.

Four days later, Kate was finally home after a week long stay in the hospital. It would be another six to eight weeks until she was back at NCIS. By then, she would probably be insane.

She trudged into the kitchen and found Gibbs at the small table, nursing a cup of coffee. He was holding something in his left hand, but she couldn't see what it was.

"Morning," her voice soft.

Gibbs turned to look at her.

There was a haunted look in his blue irises. He set down what had been in his hand and she caught a glimpse of it. Her breath hitched. How could she have been so stupid? So selfish? She hadn't been the only one who lost something? And it had been Gibbs who made the decision for the doctors to perform the hysterectomy.

"Jethro..." Kate trailed off, unsure of what to say. Instead, she sat down across from him, her gaze ultimately falling upon the ultrasound. As her finger absently rubbed the fuzzy image, her thoughts ran wild—what gender would it have been; who would it have looked like; would it have taken after Gibbs? The last thought made the corners of her mouth lift slightly.

"I was thinking about it, too." His hand settled on top of hers.

She entwined their fingers—brought their joined hands to her lips, her breath fanning over his knuckles before kissing each one. "I don't blame you for making that decision."

"I hated making that decision."

Heard the anguish in his voice. "It had to be done to save my life."

"But," he choked and broke her gaze, "you won't be able to have children."

"I can still adopt." With her free hand, brushed it through his silver hair. "We can still adopt."

Gibbs leaned into her touch.

She caressed his unshaven cheek. Ran her thumb over his lips. "You did nothing wrong."

Chose his next words carefully. Abby had come to him after Kate had fallen back asleep—while still in the hospital—and assaulted him with questions about what had happened to Kate other than the miscarriage. Right then and there, Gibbs personally knew and understood the new vulnerability that was going to rear its ugly head. Pity.

Had felt it once before in his lifetime.

"No one is going to pity you if they know about the hysterectomy." He winced inwardly when she removed her hands from him. "Kate?" He sighed when she stood up from the table gingerly and exited the kitchen.

He should give her some space, but she had enough space in the hospital. She would have enough space when he would return to work in three days.

Gibbs got to his feet and followed her. Found the living room empty and proceeded to the bedroom. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, head buried in her hands, softly crying. Made his way over to her and kneeled on the floor in front of her.

"Do you think people will look at you differently if they knew?"

"Don't you?" Kate whispered harshly. "You don't think that they'll take one look at me and say to themselves, 'Poor Kate. She had that miscarriage which caused her to have an emergency hysterectomy. Now, she'll never be able to have any children of her own.'"

"Would you rather have them ask you when will we start trying again?" Gibbs massaged her thighs. "Which is worse—the occasional look of pity from someone you couldn't care less about or having to deflect questions of when are we going to try for another baby?"

Rose to his feet, kissed her forehead and then walked to the threshold of the bedroom.

"I love you, Kate. More than you know. Making that decision was the hardest decision I've ever made, but I would do it again—a million times over—if it meant having you here with me. Being able to hold you, make love with you—all without any children—means more to me than to not have you alive."

With that he left her alone.

Left her to think and replay his words.

Gibbs got up from the table when three knocks sounded on his front door. He was hoping it was Kate—they hadn't spoken in eight days, not after he had said those words to her and then left her apartment. Knew Abby was staying with her—the raven haired woman had called him two days ago, demanding to know what happened between him and Kate.

Simply told her to talk to Kate.

Nothing more. Nothing less.

Opened the door to find a teary eyed Kate. His heart clenched. Stomach twisted. This couldn't be good. "Kate?"

"I told Abby. Everything." She launched herself into his arms. Buried her face in his neck, breathing in the comforting scent of Irish Spring.

Wrapped her tight in his embrace. Kissed the top of her head. "I'll help you through this. Correction—we'll help each other through this."

"I know." Her nose brushed his neck before she trailed a few kisses up it and nipped the underside of his jaw.

A groan rumbled from his chest, almost sounding like a purr to Kate. He missed this—the intimacy between them. Eight days ago, he truly believed that he messed everything up with what he said, even though it had to be said. He owed Abby lots of favors for a really, really long time.

"When the miscarriage happened, I ultimately blamed myself. Thought that I'd done something wrong. Did I push myself too hard at work? At the gym? I racked my brain from the moment I woke from the surgery." Kate paused and raised her head to lock gazes with him. Caressed his unshaven cheek. Ran her thumb over his lips.

Gibbs took the pause as a moment to act. He shut the front door and guided the two of them into the living room, settling on the couch with her tucked in his lap. "This okay?"

She nodded before laying her head on his broad shoulder—knowing what he meant with his open ended question. Her incision was a little sore, but that uncomfortableness wouldn't deter her from curling up on her boyfriend's lap.

"So," he drew out the word, before continuing in a soft voice, "you told Abby everything?"

Another nod from her. That conversation with the Forensics Tech had been the hardest thing she ever had to do in her life. Her hands had been shaking; her voice breaking throughout; her eyes darting up and down, waiting for inevitable look of pity to flash in Abby's eyes when she mentioned the emergency hysterectomy.

But, it never came.

Anger emerged first—angry that Kate didn't trust her enough to tell her the whole truth; angry that Kate thought she would think differently of her because of the hysterectomy; and angry that it took Kate so long to confide in her.

And then the Goth gathered Kate in her arms. Held her tight and whispered in the agent's ear that she had nothing to be afraid of. No one would think less of her or treat her differently because of what happened,

What had brought tears to the agent's eyes, though, was when Abby whispered that she need not fear pity from people. No one would never think Caitlin Todd was a weak person. Others would see that in the midst of the unfortunate tragedy, she picked herself back up and did not let it define the rest of her life.

Gibbs nuzzling her temple brought her out of the thoughts.

She turned her head, touched her lips to his. Had missed that for the last eight days. Kate had also mentioned to Abby that it had been Gibbs whom made the decision to save her life. Kate didn't have to say anything else—Abby knew how the older agent was feeling. The raven haired woman sometimes knew Gibbs better than he himself.

"You did nothing wrong, Jethro."

"I know that now." Nibbled at her bottom lip. He had done some of his own soul searching over the past eight days—finding a support group that was for men who had lost children. "God has his reasons and sometimes it's hard to see them." Touched his tongue with her own before sealing their mouths together. Kate moaned into his mouth when his arms tightened around her, bringing her tighter into his body.

She stood in front of the bathroom vanity, observing her reflection in the mirror above it. Since the miscarriage and hysterectomy, she'd been avoiding mirrors—at the hospital and home—afraid of seeing the scars reflecting back, showing her that it truly happened and wasn't a horrible dream. But now, as she confidently looked at herself—hair pulled back in a disheveled ponytail; her crucifix laying flat between her breasts; mocha brown orbs shining; and her shoulders straight—she realized that this was a turning point in her life and it would only make her stronger.

In the mirror, she could not see the scar from the hysterectomy, but knew it was there. Ran her fingers over it everyday as a reminder of what she went through and how she could overcome it.

"You'll always be beautiful to me. Nothing will ever change that."

Kate turned her head to find him leaning against the doorframe of the bathroom. "How long...?"

"Long enough to know what you're thinking." Pushed away from the doorframe and entered the bathroom to stand behind her. He wrapped his arms around her—his hands resting over the six inch scar on her abdomen—and kissed her temple. "We each have our own scars and they make us who we are."

She leaned back into him, her head resting on his shoulder.

He whispered in her ear, "You're a strong woman, Kate. Don't let any one tell you otherwise."

She turned around in his embrace. Opened her mouth to say something-anything-but she was at a loss for words. Instead she fused her mouth to his and threaded her fingers through his silver hair. Her hands left his hair to trace the breadth of his shoulders—shoulders that always seemed to hold more than they should—before drifting down his back to the hem of his t-shirt. Her fist clutched the fabric and then slowly drew it up and over his head before discarding it onto the floor. Her fingers danced over the jagged scar on the back of his right shoulder—product of their mission in Colombia to find a missing Marine. Shrapnel from a grenade blast ripped through his flesh as he protected her.

She then touched her lips to the raised skin on his left shoulder—gunshot wound from Ari Haswari when the terrorist held her, Ducky, and Gerald hostage in Autopsy—then trailed her tongue around it before nipping at his clavicle.

"Kate," he hissed.

"I love you. I'm sorry for everything I put you-us-through lately," her hot breath fanned over his throat.

He gathered her closer to his body—her breasts pressed tightly against his chest; his belt buckle softly brushing her abdomen; the fabric of his khakis rubbing deliciously against her thighs and legs. Both knew, though, no sex for another five weeks. Gibbs buried his face in the curve of her neck, breathing in the familiar scent of lavender. Kissed her pulse point.

Kate sighed in contentment. Threaded her fingers through his silver hair once more.

"You have nothing to apologize for. You had to work through this on your own, but next time, don't shut me out. Please," he raised his head and locked eyes with her—his crystal blue irises pleading.

It was then that Kate realized how much she had hurt Gibbs by shutting him out. She hadn't been the only one suffering. She reached up—her hand shaking—and caressed his roughened cheek. Ran her fingertips over his lips and shivered when she kissed them. "I promise."

FINIS