I was furious, no I was beyond furious.
The worry gnawed at me, something wasn’t right, I just knew it. I got that feeling in my gut, the one that fills you with terror until you burst. Something was odd, was off in the investigation, he knew, I knew it, we all knew it, yet no one had spoke of it, the huge elephant in the room. We ignored it, because we didn’t want to make it true by acknowledging it. All that work, all the stress, the worry, the blood, guts, sweat and tears; it would all be wasted--for nothing--if we were to quit now, we had to go ahead, if we didn’t we’d never get the chance to again. These people would get away, and the only hope of catching them would be left to FBI, who didn’t even know they existed. It would be hopeless, and we couldn’t just give the mission up, especially not to the FBI. We’d sooner give it to NCIS. However had I known he would go missing, that I’d have to trade his life for the mission……..I’d never do it.
I felt a weird pang inside of me. The company always told us that the mission was more important than anyone else’s life; it was greater and more important than the company itself. People were expendable, and if you came across a Rogue CIA agent or a traitor you shot him. You didn’t form relationships, merely barked orders and carried them out. And yet I seemed to fail at most of them; hadn’t yet had the duty of shooting a fellow agent, thankfully. I couldn’t even handle the ‘don’t get attached’ part. I got on the elevator, still furious with myself and everyone else in the world, I jabbed the third floor button and crossed my arms, glaring at the doors. I shouldn’t be here, looking for where he hid the stupid chip; I should be looking for him, saving his ass. I growled in frustration, cursing the orders I had received, muttering under my breath in a mantra, “Missions over people, missions over people….”
I jumped as the doors opened and I stalked out, like a cat on the prowl, I flounced over to Gibbs’ teams, all of them sitting at their desks doing paperwork, I strolled right in, ignoring their questioning eyes. I advanced to the empty cubicle and went through the desk drawers, I pulled them all the way out, threw them on the floor, overturned the chair, and eventually the desk, took apart the filing cabinet and the chair, before I realized it wasn’t in this cubicle. Going to the next one I started doing the same thing, this time however I did not go uninterrupted.
“Can I help you with something?” Gibbs’ asked curiously as he watched me tear apart this desk.
“No you may not.” I snapped, as I went back to my search.
“Is there something specific you are looking for?” He asked firmly.
“Yeah something that isn’t your business.” I said frustrated
“Something that isn’t our business FBI? Or Something that isn’t our business CIA?” Dinozzo asked loftily
“CIA.” I answered shortly.
“Figures, how’s our old pal Trent doing?” He asked flippantly.
I jumped up, “I don’t know do you know something I don’t?”
“I’m just asking if old Trenty wenty is doing alright, or if he’s going to be coming back to blow my new car up?” Dinozzo said. I stalked over to him, leaning over his desk, I got into his face.
“If you know where Trent is or anything about his whereabouts you better tell me, because I will not hesitate to put a bullet through you.” I seethed, I watched partially satisfied as he shrank back in his chair, I felt a hand fall on my shoulder, straightening I turned around slowly, glaring at Gibbs.
“Something happen to our favorite CIA bastard?” Gibbs said carelessly.
“Yeah, he’s gone missing.” I grounded out.
“Well I can promise you he’s not in one of our desk!” Dinozzo said.
“Missions over people!! Kort hid a chip here, some where’s in this bullpen; my mission is to find it.” I stated flatly.
“Missions over people?” Dinozzo asked quizzically.
“The mission is more important than anything else. Including human life.” Gibbs said disdainfully.
Tony just frowned but wisely remained silent.
“I need to find it, the sooner I find it the sooner I can find Kort.” I mumbled, going back to my search.
“Well then let’s not hold her up or anything!” Dinozzo snorted, I swiveled around and once again got into his face.
“You know what Agent Dinozzo I’ve had about enough of you. The only reason you do not like Kort is cause he blew up your car. It was on my orders that he did so, and he knew you were not in it, he made sure of that. His orders were for the car not you. If we wanted you dead you’d be dead by now, and right now I want to kill you so I’d watch it! Now Kort, while he is a heartless bastard, is also my partner and my agent. He’s a good man, and good at what he does. We’re very close and if anything happens to him because you held me up, I will personally make sure that the next bomb is shoved so far up your ass that you won’t be able to get away from it before it blows you to tiny little bits. Do we understand each other?!” I hissed menacingly, my eyes flashing as my rage took over.
“You like shoving things up people’s butt? Kinky.” He smirked; I growled and turned back around to face Gibbs.
“Help me find it.” I ordered, as I went back to my search, overturning everything insight. Gibbs slowly started checking his own area, nodding at the others to do the same. I had to find it, I just had to, otherwise Trent would be a goner. No sooner had I thought this then the door to the elevator pinged open and seconds later, Trent stood, bloody and swaying in the middle of the bullpen. I rushed to him, leaping over piles of broken office equipment to catch him as he collapsed to his knees and then flat on his back. I cradled his head and upper torso in the crook of my arm and on my lap. There was blood every where’s as I looked him over; so much bled I didn’t know where the major one was.
“Hey, where are you hit Kort?” I said, trying to keep him awake, I slapped his face a bit; he managed to spit out lazily, “Chest.” I removed his coat and ripped open his shirt far enough to apply pressure on the wound.
“Hey it’s going to be alright Trent ok? You just stay with me now, and we’ll get you through this ok? Don’t worry.” I said to him calmly, even though on the inside I was a wreck, a hurricane of emotions. There was just so much blood, I could feel it sleeping through my clothes and running down my body, I shivered and gagged. The smell was awful, that’s when I realized whatever had happened, they had made him piss his pants. This seemed to anger me more than anything else. To humiliate the man in such a way, I could feel the spark of rage settle deep within me and kindle into a roaring fire that consumed every fiber of my mind and nerve of my body. I swallowed the hard lump of rage that hardened in my throat and tried to speak, but all that came were tears in my eyes, I closed both my mouth and my eyes and tried again, but nothing came out.
“Chip in……Gibbs….boat.” He choked out, blood coming up from his lungs.
“I don’t need to know cause you’re gonna get it when you’re better. Ok?” I said, cradling his head with my free hand, in a surprising gentle touch of affection.
“You know…..you’ve been…..the best…” He started coughing, spraying my face with his blood, I didn’t blink, I wanted to hold onto his every word, every breath, and every action. I wanted to save him but I couldn’t. No one had called 911, but nobody needed to, we all knew it was the end for Kort. “Partner I’ve ever had and definitely the better boss……..you know this could be misconstrued as showing affection….for another….”
“It wouldn’t be misconstrued. I love you man. I should have taken you off the case but I sent you back. I did this to you. Trent I am so sorry. I never meant….I didn’t want…..I’d never trade you again! I swear it!” I said letting out a harsh sob, as tear traveled down my cheeks and landed on his.
“Not….your…fault……Boss….partner…..Netanya……I love you too girl. You take care of yourself……..” He said gasping for air as his face paled and his lips started turning blue and purple, using his last bit of strength he put his hand on my cheek and wiped away the tears, I turned my lips into his hand and kissed it gently, as I did I watched the light in his eyes go out and felt his hand brush against my lips as it slid to the ground. I sat frozen for a minute before I felt the blinding pain, and a fresh set of tears sprang loose. I bent down and gathered Trent into my arms, tears streaming in to his chest as I cradled his head close to me, and laid mine on his chest.
“No….Trent..Trent I’m so sorry….I’m sorry…..” I cried, the room quiet as everybody watched me break down. Gibbs suddenly swooped in and grabbed my shoulder, he started to drag me away and the panic came back, I started to fight him trying to get back to my agent.
“No! No I can’t leave him! I can’t! Let me go! I can’t leave him!” I screamed as Gibbs continued to drag me away.
He leaned down and whispered quietly in my ear, “You already did Netanya.”
“I’m sorry…..” I moaned in sheer agony. Gibbs dragged me into the elevator and I sunk to the floor, trying to gather my wits, remember who to kill for revenge.
“What are you thinking about Netanya?” He asked quietly.
“Revenge. Killing the bastard that tortured and killed my agent!” I seethed angrily, the tears suddenly gone, a crazed look lit deep within my blue orbs, the anger burned through the despair and sorrow like a short fuse, as I remembered how they made Trent loss control, made him piss his pants. Murder erupted into my eyes and all I could see was red. I jumped up and flew at Gibbs, I tackled him, and hit him and kicked him over and over again, until we were right outside the forensic scientists’ lab, I continued in my rampage. Gibbs just letting me go. I screamed at him as if he was the killer, all I could see was red, in my mind I was beating up his murderer, his torturer and my eyes, they played along. Somehow Gibbs has morphed into a monster, a beast capable of torturing and killing my agent. My partner, my best friend.
He had to pay. They all had to pay. Everybody had to pay for they were living when he was not and what gave them the right to do that?! My outrage lasted longer than I thought humanly possible, as I pinned Gibbs to the wall and pounded my clenched fists into his chest. I felt my strength wavering, slipping away into nothingness. I gave one last cry of war, a despairing, heart wrenching shriek that described my pain and anger perfectly, before my legs gave out and I collapsed just like Trent did. Except without the blood. Gibbs caught me, I felt his strong arms firmly catch me and pick me up to lean against his chest as I shook. I was breathing quickly, trying to calm but all I could feel was panic.
“He can’t be dead, Gibbs, he just can’t be dead.” I cried pathetically.
“Why can’t he be dead Netanya?” Gibbs said softly.
“Because I said so! Because I loved him! I LOVED HIM AND I KILLED HIM!” I screamed, ripping my throat to shreds or so it felt. With that all the fight left my body, drained of all energy, of the will to go on, I slumped, letting the tears lazily flow from my eyes.
“I’m not supposed to grieve, not suppose to be show weakness or affection. I’m in so much trouble. Gotta avenge Trent.” I mumbled through my tears. Gibbs tightened his embrace.
“You let me worry about avenging Trent you are going to hang out in my home under my watch until then. Abby will stay with you.” He said in a no-argument tone. I suddenly felt defeated, worn down by my twenty-seven years on this planet, like the battle had sucked the life right out of me and I didn’t want it back. He guided me into the small lab; I grimaced at the sight of the dog collared, studded, Goth forensic scientist. I gasped painfully as I detached from Gibbs and stumbled to face the door, away from Abby. Memories of Trent telling me about Abby flashing in my head, his smile, his laugh, the way his lips parted and that drawl he had. And I’d never hear it again or see him again. My insides felt shaken like they were cracking in half that at any point the disturbance underneath would reach the surface and I would shatter into a million shards of regret. Of nothingness.
Gibbs just looked at me as I clapped a hand over my eyes and breathed deeply; turning back to Abby he reached over grabbed her car keys and dangled them in front of her. Abby just looked confused.
“Go back to my place; you’re staying there with her.” Gibbs said gesturing to me.
“Who is she?” Abby said quietly.
“CIA--” Gibbs started to explain before he was cut off.
“What?! CIA! You want me to spend the afternoon with a CIA agent?!” She said her eyes wide.
“Abby, listen to me, she may be CIA but she’s a person, and her training is failing.” He said gently, close to her so I wouldn’t here. Gibbs turned around and Abby saw my reflection struggling not to cry.
“What happened?” Abby asked softly.
“She just had the person she loved die in her arms only moments before. I’m afraid she’ll go seeking revenge if she’s not looked after. I’m going to shoot the bastard who did.” Gibbs said, Abby nodded and grabbed the keys still dangling between them.
“Not to worry Gibbs, Abby Sciuto is ready for duty sir!” She said, giving him a salute before gently looping an arm with mine and dragging me out of the building and into her car. The drive to Gibbs’ house was silent and mundane, Abby had blabbered on about Gibbs’ poor taste in music, but I wasn’t listening, I was too busy looking out the window searching for any signs that pointed to Trent being alive, or that this was all just a nightmare or a hallucination that I would soon recover from. I searched and searched, putting my heart, my very soul into it and yet all I could find was more confirmation of what I already knew deep down to be true. Deep down where once was light, love and happiness, now there’s nothing but destruction and shattered memories, fragments of my life--our lives together, broken to pieces as he was ripped from my life, from my world, from my soul.
I laid my head against the windows wishing it were raining, raining always made me feel clean no matter what I had done. I remember right after the 9/11 attacks I was standing outside our stake out house just standing in the middle of the dirt road as it poured. Kort was upstairs sleeping, it was hours later he found me, sitting in the middle of the road, just sitting and humming. He tried getting me back inside but I wouldn’t budge. So he sat next to me and started drawing attack plans in the mud, soon it became a competition, like battleship. Before we knew it the rain had stopped and night was falling. I smiled sadly but fondly as I let the memory pass. Kort was a good man. With a heart worth searching for, one you really had to commit to finding.
We pulled into the driveway, and I got out, quickly going towards the door, hiding myself from anyone who could be watching, spying on me as I entered Gibbs’ home, I took out my gun I motioned Abby to stay and remain quiet as I searched and cleared the house, for evil bad guys and their evil bad guy bugs. I explored the house. I finally ventured down into the basement to see the infamous boat Kort told me about, I descended the stairs and caught site of the beauty. It was half-done, I walked along it, running my hand against its smooth surface, smiling sadly, I could see Abby at the top of the stairs watching me with concern.
“You know Trent told me about this boat, but I thought he was joshing me. He did that a lot. But apparently this time he wasn’t.” I said shrugging, a sting of regret entering my heart.
“Kort joshed you all the time? He didn’t seem like a josher to me.” Abby said
“Oh but he was. He was funny too. Not funny as in could make up a good joke but he did great impersonations--funny ones--and he had this monotone and deadpanned funny about him, sarcastic humor he had. It was always fun to banter with him. We had some great times together.” I said my eyes glazing over in memories. With a heart tearing lurch I came back to reality, my eyes filling with tears as I pushed those memories to the back of my mind. I sauntered numbly over to his working area, rummaging around in his cabinets and drawers I finally stumbled upon the stash. Bourbon just like Kort had said. I undid the stopper and drank right from the bottle, anything to kill what I’m feeling, take the edge of the razor that is slicing through my heart. I kept drinking, on a mission to forget all that happened that day, drink it away, into bliss, ignorant bliss. I smelled the bourbon and suddenly remembered the very first time I had ever caught a whiff of it.
The music hummed throughout the room, the heat pressing in on all sides as bodies entwined within each other swayed around one another. Afraid of being separated I scooted closer to Trent, my first C.I.A. partner who just smiled, and held out his hand, raising an eyebrow as if to ask if I wanted to dance. I quickly accepted, a small blush creeping up into my cheeks. He held me close to him, as he whispered in my ear about what information he was able to find out, I listened and kept an eye on the four men plus all the exits, calculating our next move. We whispered back and forth, business as always, keeping up appearances. And this mission, to these criminal suckers we were a married couple wanting in on the Arms’ trade with La Grenouille. With an numerous amount of illegal but highly dangerous and deadly automatic rifles in our possession we were highly valued, yet also looked upon suspiciously; one false move, one wrong body gesture and it could all be over for us.
I looked up from his chest, a smile on my lips as I gazed into his deep brown eyes, trying to find the soul that lay beneath, my breath caught in my throat as a warm shudder passed through me. I finally tore my eyes away, to lean breathless against him, whom I noted with much pleasure had scooted closer and had his arms locked securely around me. I felt safe with him, safer than I ever had before. I put my hand on his chest and he raised his eyebrow. Damn, right into those eyes again. I used my hand on his chest to point to where our suspect was going. Trent nodded and danced us to that side of the room in rapid quietness. As I lay my head back on his chest I could hear and feel his heart beat into my ear, I smiled. A sound I’d live to hear again and again. A sweet harmony, beauty when there is nothing to see but everything to feel and hear. I shifted to his side as he made his turn, causing our feet to intertwine and for me to go flying face first into the table. I put my hand out to break my fall and ended up tipping the whole table over on top of me. Trent could barely keep a straight face as he got the table off of me, and saw me sit up with gravy running down my face and bourbon down my hair and chest.
Even though it was all part of the plan, somehow it wasn’t. As any good husband would do he helped me off the ground and wiped the gravy off my face, and in a totally unplanned move he gently stroked my hair and pulled some of it into his mouth. I almost melted right then and there, if it weren’t for La Grenouille sitting behind us I would have. Instead I cuffed him upside the head and turned to apologize to The Frog.
It was the first time we both knew, for sure, that we were in love, true love. We fought it, knowing it was a taboo, but how can you fight against love, when all you can see is the person you are fighting? We tried hiding it well, and we succeeded until today, when I blurted it out to Gibbs. I took another, deeper, longer swig of bourbon before sliding under the boat and laying on the plywood that keep me under the boat four feet off the ground. I started to hum the song that was playing that night, our first meeting with The Frog, looking up to see if Abby was still around seeing the room empty I relaxed. It wasn’t always fun and games with us though, hardly ever was which was why I always treasured the gentle moments more.
“GO!” Trent yelled at me as we ran through the forest in Brazil.
“You got us lost in the Amazon with crazy Indians chasing after us to kill us!!!” I screamed at him.
“Natives, Netanya, Natives are what they are!” He screamed.
“I don’t give a fuck who or what they are! They’re going to kill us!” I yelled back, trying to run faster than humanly possible.
“Not if you shut your trap and keep running.” He said.
“Oh you are so dead for that if we ever get out of here alive!” I said breathlessly.
“Just shut up and keep going!” He yelled frustrated, I quickly fell behind, trying to keep running, but all I could see were black spots dancing in front of my eyes, as I swayed and stumbled. I called out to him, I could hear him cursing as he grabbed my wrist and kept running, I tried keeping up but before I knew it I was being dragged along the ground and before long I heard a sickening snap then crunch and seconds later white agony ripping through me, tearing a scream from my throat, and that’s when the darkness took me.
I woke the next day, my leg throbbing, we were still in the forest I groaned in frustration, throwing a rock at Trent’s head none too gently to wake him up. Pissed that we were still in the forest. He turned over, and I hissed at him, “What the hell are we still doing here Kort?! I thought you said you could get us out of here! Not get us killed! Are you that incompetent or is that just in bed?!”
“Well I probably could have gotten us out of here had you listened to me and not have taken that water back there at camp, but no of course you know best, did you ever stop to consider they may have drugged you? No you just blindly walk right into their trap you fool! I don’t know how you ever became an agent but trust me once this is over you will be terminated.” He spat.
“YOU BROKE MY LEG!” I scream--whispered.
“You fell behind. You’re lucky I saved you at all. You fall behind you stay behind. There are no Heroes in the CIA.” He repeated rule number three. I rolled my eyes and went to sit up, only to feel pain coursing through me, it overturned my stomach and soon enough projectile vomit was flying all over Trent.
He was pissed.
I smiled and drank again, remembering all of the moments, all of the hugs and pretend kisses that were so real sometimes. The feel of his warm, smooth chest under my delicate, pale, fingers, the feel of his heart beating under the palm of my hand. I laid my hand down on the bench and felt nothing, and all of a sudden the thought that if I were to lay my palm on his chest now I’d feel the same nothing, made my heart stop completely for what felt like eternity. I realized I didn’t mind. I turned on my side looking down at the bottle of bourbon in my hand, sighing. I tried to find something to fight for, to live for. But all was gone for me. I could never go back to the CIA; even if I wanted to I disobeyed direct orders. My family is either in jail or dead, and the one person I loved was just killed. I took another swig. Despair closing in on all sides. Another flash.
“Who is your partner bitch?!” Jaundair screamed at me. I was tied painfully to a chair, the wires cutting in to my wrists and ankles, pain throbbed through me, bruises covered my face and blood soaked through my clothing. I had been captured just off the border of Somalia, I had been here for five days, five days of being tortured for information and no one came. No one would, you fell behind or were captured, no one would come for you, you stayed behind. Rule number seven. Don’t get caught. I looked up into my captors’ eyes full of hatred and anger. I glared back and spit on his boots.
“Never.” I said, I knew I was going to die here, tortured to death but I wouldn’t speak, they’d just kill me anyways, and if they didn’t I’d be forcing Trent to. Traitors, moles and Rogue CIA were killed by their partners or by a superior, and I wouldn’t force my partner into that position. I watched, paling, gritting my teeth preparing for the pain as he brought out pliers and pulled electric wires from the wall. I felt a new sense of panic swell in me, making my whole body shake, loosening my lips. I bit down on them and just shook my head as he brought the pliers to my fingernails and started ripping one out after another. I screamed, sharp pain shooting up my arm as my blood poured out of my fingers like a faucet. I felt tears pool in my eyes, my breathing becoming raspy. My head felt foggy, full of cotton candy and heavy.
It was over.
“Tell me who your partner is.” Jaundair said softly, I shook my head, breathless. I knew Trent had taken Intel on him to the CIA two days ago, if I told a hit would be out on him and I’d be dead. I wouldn’t betray my partner or my country. He backhanded me, the slap echoing in the small cell he kept me in.
“Obviously you need more encouraging.” He said chuckling a bit, as he brought out the wires which sparked when he put the cut-open ends together, I shut my eyes tightly, trying to calm my breathing and shut myself away to dull the pain. I could feel him come closer, my heart speeding up. When a fire burst of pain, sending needles through my veins, frying my insides, I screamed, tearing my throat, jerking in my bindings. God, oh God it hurt. I didn’t realize it stopped; the pain was still there one hundred percent.
“Who’s your partner?!” He screamed in my face, I shuddered and shook my head again. Trent…….Trent……
He raised the wires, and I whimpered, letting my tears fall, I wouldn’t beg. I wanted to but I wouldn’t.
He put them on my chest again, and I shuddered and jerked, screaming, all of a sudden it stopped; I sagged forward, trying to breathe and not slip into unconsciousness.
“That would be me asshole.” A familiar voice said, I looked up to see Trent standing there with blood on his jacket, and a gun pointed at my torturer. I sobbed in relief, then choked up when I realized he may have been sent to kill me. He came towards me lowering his gun, and kneeled in front of me, and gently started to undo my bindings. I sobbed harshly, trying not to, to hold them back, but relief was crashing down all around me, making it hard to keep my barriers up.
“It’s ok. It’s just me. Just.” He said soothingly.
“It’s so good to see you, to hear you. You shouldn’t be here though. I fell behind.” I choked out, as he worked on my feet.
“Now I couldn’t leave you behind. You’re the only one capable of driving a clutch and finding my tube socks in the morning. Plus they were going to reassign me Melanie as my partner and I’d sooner go rogue then even consider working with her.” He said flippantly. I smiled and patted his shoulder.
“Yeah, I love you too.” I whispered he looked up sharply.
“Do not say something as foolish as that Arian.” He said using my fake name in case we were being watched. I nodded solemnly, falling quiet, hiding my face with my hair.
“That being said, you too.” He patted my knees and scooped me up in his arms, carrying me to safety. I laid my head on his shoulder, I let myself drift off, knowing I was safe with him.
My eyes stung as I remembered how he held me close, how we had to kiss and cuddle all for the mission, yet it was for us as well. The love that surged through us each time we touched. All gone, he was gone and it was my entire fault. I got him killed; I traded his life for a mission, even after he threw away a mission for mine a dozen times. I screamed in anger, throwing the bottle against the wall. It should be me that Ducky is cutting up now; I should be laying that autopsy table not Trent. It deserves to be me. I shook, as I wailed and yelled in blind grief, throwing things and taking an ax to his boat. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew Gibbs would kill me for breaking his boat into pieces but at least then I’d be with Trent. I sobbed as I let the ax drop from my hands, dropping to my knees in the wreckage I sobbed, feeling my stomach cramp.
Remembering the touch of his fingers, how the slid over my skin, how he spoke so softly, that night we had to make love in front of a dealer who was also a exhibitionist. It was painful to do, something so intimate on display, I was mortified, Trent could feel the fear and pain radiating off of me, and he kept talking to me. Not letting my think of anything else but him as he stared into my eyes, I went limp and let him do what he needed to do. That night wrecked both of us; we didn’t talk about it for months until one day we were changing to in our hotel room, both of us in the same room. He was watching me, not in the creepy disgusting way just in the way you’d watch someone give money to a cashier.
“Netanya…….” He spoke softly.
“Trent?” I looked up wondering what was up. I saw the frown on his face, the guilt in his eyes. The way he sat so rigid on the bed.
“Netanya, I’m so sorry.” He whispered hoarsely.
“For what?” I said just as quietly, my air way constricting.
“I raped you.” His voice almost cracked, I could see the self-hatred swirling in his orbs. I got my sweats on and sat next to him on the bed.
“No, you were doing your job.” I said shrugging.
He shook his head, “I felt you go lifeless, I saw you go into yourself, I could smell your fear. Sense your hurt.”
“Trent we both did what we had to do. It’s not your fault; I don’t blame you or hate you. It’s alright. I forgive you.” I said.
“I’ll never forgive myself.” He whispered looking at the wall.
“You have to.” I said to him, getting closer and laying my head on his shoulder, I got up and stood in front of him and wrapped my arms around him. We stayed like that for a few minutes before he sat up and picked me up and threw me on the bed. I laughed and kissed him.
I brought my knees up to my chest and wrapped my arms around them, laying my head down I let the tears stream silently and endlessly down my cheeks, lost in my memories I didn’t hear Gibbs close the doors, or his eyes looking over the damage or his mutter of “this is what happens when you let the CIA in your house.”
Desperateness making the walls come closer; I didn’t know what to do with myself anymore. Move on? To what? Sure I was young, I could go into some type of Law Enforcement outside of CIA but the memory of Trent would haunt me, I could never trust myself with another Agents life again. I didn’t want to fall in love again. I sighed frustrated, angry at myself for falling into the self-pity trap. I drank some more, and then some more, until I couldn’t remember where my mouth was and which way I had to tip the bottle to make the bourbon come out. I let the bottle shatter on the ground as I heard someone coming down the stairs. I looked up to see Gibbs’ coming down the steps. I sat up quickly wincing he helped me up and put me on the bench. He didn’t say a word, neither did I. For a good two hours we just sat there thinking and guarding the silence.
“Any job openings at NCIS?” I said with a croak, the fact that I had been crying evident in every syllable.
“I’m not sure, I’m sure we could find use of you.” He said quietly, I nodded gently, not putting much effort into it. I sighed and looked at him, he looked back, I half expected to see Trent’s brown eyes looking back at me and I flinched when I saw the piercing blue instead of the diving brown.
“I really loved him Gibbs.” I whispered, choking on my words.
He just looked at me, “I know.”
“And he never knew.” I said, breaking down again.
“I know.” He repeated. And then the blackness came; it was only the second time I had bourbon.
Author's Chapter Notes:
What happens when Trent Kort's partner and boss Netanya Smith turns up at NCIS, destroys Gibbs' bullpen and soon after that Trent himself turns up bloody and near death?