Work Text:
Jimmy (-1):
“Hey, Jess?”
Jess stops. There are so many questions about her team and she needs answers but there’s something about Jimmy’s voice that makes her turn back, silently questioning.
“Don’t leave them in the box forever. It’s good to talk.”
He has a sort of smile on his face. It’s not especially happy, but it’s not really sad either. It’s kind of comforting; not the same as the looks she’s been getting all day.
Jimmy knows there’s nothing he can say in this moment to make it any less painful. And she appreciates that he’s not trying to deliver some false sentiment.
“It’s just easier at work-” her head tilts in an echo of a shrug- “especially when we’re still trying to work out exactly what happened,” taking a breath, she glances down to the ground and admits, “plus, there are only so many sympathetic looks someone can take.”
“Yeah, I get that.”
If it were anyone else saying those words in any other way, it would probably just anger her but, once again, there’s just something about Jimmy that screams genuineness.
Or maybe it’s the understanding they have that he’s not just saying it.
“But hey look,” he takes a tiny step towards her, “there’s a group I go to once a week, grief counselling-“ even just the words ‘grief counselling’ make something in her tighten- “it’s really helped me and it could help you too.”
She doesn’t think it’s truly sunk in that they’re actually gone.
Right now, she needs to keep going. She needs to find out what happened to them – find out who caused this, who killed them – then she needs to work out where she goes from here.
“I don’t know, Jimmy…” trailing off, she takes a breath, “I’m not sure I’m ready to talk about them yet. Not to a group of people at least.”
“You don’t have to talk, sometimes just listening to other people helps. Or, you know-” he readjusts his glasses earnestly- “you could talk to me. Our situations might not be the same but, I know it’s hard.”
“I don’t think it’s really set in yet,” she whispers softly.
Jess has never been someone to whisper.
She may talk in a low voice for subtlety but if she wants to voice something, she makes sure it comes out strong. She’s sure of herself and even when she’s secretly not, she’s learnt that it’s best to fake it till she makes it, not show any weakness that can be exploited in any area of her life.
Yet now, her voice is broken. Maybe because she feels broken – her life feels broken – and she hasn’t quite worked out how to fix it yet.
“If you ever need somewhere quiet to spend a moment and collect yourself, then it’s usually quiet down here, I can give you space. Or-“ she’s grateful he doesn’t step any closer towards her, instead gesturing openly with his hands- “if you need someone to talk to, I’m always right here.”
Or maybe it’s because if there’s anyone on this planet she can’t imagine using her vulnerability against her, it’s Jimmy Palmer.
She manages a tiny smile, swallowing until the block clears from her throat and her voice is strong again.
“Thank you, Jimmy.”
His answering smile might just be what gives her the strength to go and find some answers.
“Anytime, Jess.”
Again, there’s an honesty to his words. She truly believes he means it.
There’s just something about this place down here.
Kasie (1):
“So,” Kasie leans back against her desk, narrowing her eyes playfully, “are you gonna be a permanent feature around here then?”
Jess raises an eyebrow, “Why, you wanna get rid of me?”
The computer pings and she turns around to check her results, tapping at a few keys as she idly answers, “Nope. The exact opposite in fact, you know I like having you around.”
It would be a lie if Jess tried to say that she isn’t a little surprised by how matter of factly Kasie throws that out there.
Like she’s already supposed to know.
In reality, she’s not sure where they stand. They have a good working relationship, sure, they’ve even hung out together outside of work a few times. But Kasie is a people person, she gets on with everyone.
Jess isn’t special, is she?
“Well,” she shrugs nonchalantly, “I’m sticking around for this case at least.”
She wouldn’t leave McGee hanging, not when everyone is still scrambling about trying to get this serial killer that’s somehow landed in their lap and working towards getting Gibbs back officially.
Kasie eyes her thoughtfully, “And after that?”
“I’m not sure yet,” she tilts her head, trying to pretend she isn’t feeling a little scrutinised, “I don’t really know what I’m looking for.”
It’s true. She’d kind of got stuck in with the MCRT to have something to do, a distraction that’d just sort of naturally evolved until she’d become an unofficially official team member. No one had seemed to mind and she knows they appreciate the help, for now at least.
But is it really what she wants? Is this what she wants her days to look like now?
Still investigating, still high risk (though arguably lower risk than REACT), still NCIS?
She’d wanted to be a part of NCIS since she was a teenager, looking forward to the occasional day trips her dad would take her on to the base. Does she want to know what her life could look like without it?
“Hmm. You’ll figure it out.”
Will she?
Torres seems to be too caught up on the fact that Bishop has up and left for… somewhere, McGee is more focused on whether or not Gibbs is returning and the elusive Gibbs himself, well, he’s still almost entirely a mystery to her.
They’re all too busy to have much of an opinion on her right now and she gets it, everything is a bit up in the air at the moment, not just with her.
“I don’t know, Kase. The people I normally go to for help in situations like this…” she offers in a rare moment of vulnerability, “they’re not very contactable right now.”
“Huh. Unless you have a Ouija board.”
Kasie slaps a horrified hand over her mouth as a sort of strangled laugh forces itself out of Jess’ throat.
“Sorry, that was inappropriate!” she grimaces, “it’s just I remember having the exact same thought when my dad died a few years back.”
Shaking her head and feeling very much like she isn’t sure if she’s about to start laughing or crying (again. It feels like she’s been doing that a lot recently. And mostly in the solitude of her own apartment so maybe she’s due a comfort from someone else), Jess leans against the desk, resisting the urge to rest her face in her hands.
Everything feels a little exhausting just now. She’d thought she was recovering but maybe she’s still just running on fumes.
“At this point, I’ll take anything a Ouija board can give me.”
Kasie steps around to face her fully, expression unusually serious, “Jess, if there’s one thing I learned when my dad died, it’s that it’s better to stay among the living.”
It does feel like she’s been completely surrounded by dead people recently.
Their lives had been so deeply entwined in her own… and now they’re gone. She can’t move on that quickly, not when the loose threads of their lives are still lingering all around her, ends cut and dangling uselessly, tangling themselves around her own life in knots too tight for her shaking fingers to undo.
But she does need to at least begin to move on.
Or maybe just get herself out from under it all. She can’t get through but maybe under, a fresh start, away from the threads of life constantly surrounding her.
“The people who can help you heal and remember and move on?” Kasie asks, as if she can hear Jess’ thoughts, “they’re all around you.”
The people who had quite literally pulled her out from under it all. She barely remembers anything from the explosion but she does remember the voices.
‘There’s someone in here!’
‘It’s Agent Knight.’
‘She’s alive…’
She’s alive. Sometimes that’s easy to forget.
Vance (2):
“Agent Knight, I’d like to make your current assignment, full time.”
Jess blinks confusedly at the Director.
She’s been expecting this conversation to happen at some point but she hadn’t expected that point to be while Gibbs and McGee are off in Alaska on one of the unofficial MCRT missions she’s only heard rumours of before.
It feels like a strange time to be making personnel decisions like this.
Then again, the Director probably has his reasons, he’s been successfully doing this job for nearly as long as she’s been at NCIS, after all.
Clearing her throat, she asks, “Do you think I’m a good fit?”
“Do you think you’re a good fit?”
She holds back a sigh at the way his eyebrows give an amused quirk, telling her she should have known he would flip the question on her.
“It’s hard to know if I will be, with Gibbs not here.”
McGee and Torres, she’s worked with on and off for the last month or so, they’re people she can see herself getting on well with in the long term but Gibbs… he’s a legend, across DC and NCIS internationally.
And she hasn’t seen the real man behind the legend enough times to know if they’ll get on.
“Agent Knight…” the Director eyes her critically for a moment then sighs and steps around his desk to her, “just between you and me. I’m not convinced that Agent Gibbs will be coming back at all.”
Jess stares back at him, detecting a well-concealed weariness and just a hint of pain in his expression.
“Back to NCIS… or back from Alaska?” she asks slowly.
Vance just looks at her silently for a long moment – she’s not sure if he’s waiting for her to fill in the gap or just gathering his thoughts – then breaks the stillness by brushing invisible lint off his lapel.
“In either case,” he continues smoothly as if they aren’t discussing the possible permanent departure of his longest serving agent and (from what she can tell) good friend- “there will be a new team member. We have no suitable agents currently in this office and I would rather half my Major Crimes Response Team not be new.”
She can understand that. Teams like this have to be close to work.
Like her and her REACT team. They’d been close partly (at least at first) in necessity to the job, they’d needed to know and trust each other well to work successfully and not get… well, blown up.
Not that it had helped all that much in the end, with one they had considered their own being the person to… you know, blow them up.
“You’re a strong agent-“ the Director’s voice brings her back out of her thoughts- “you have a good working relationship with both Agents McGee and Torres as far as I’m aware…?”
She nods when he trails off questioningly, “I do, yes.”
For all that she and Torres had clashed initially over desks and personal space, they’d also resolved it well. When she adds in that they can laugh together and cover each other in equal measures, it gives Jess plenty of hope.
And McGee just strikes her as someone who’s good to work with, whether it be as Senior Field Agent or Team Leader. She’s been quietly observing him the last few weeks, with everything happening and him just about holding everyone together despite it not being what he’d signed up for.
It doesn’t pass her by that Torres is looking to him for support and he doesn’t seem like the sort to go to just anyone.
Then again, they have history. They’ve worked together for years. Her month or two head start on whoever their new possible team member is won’t be much.
“I’m trying to build the team back up again,” Vance continues, “and I’d very much like for you to be a part of it.”
He’s being genuine, she can tell.
It’s always something that she’s admired about the Director. He’s good at being diplomatic, yes (certainly much better than she would be) but he doesn’t shy away from being honest – sometimes brutally so if the situation calls for it – when he judges it to be best.
He very much feels that she would be the best fit just now. And logically, she agrees. But she can’t get all of herself to commit.
This place, it’s always going to remind her of her old team. And while she doesn’t want to run away from it all in an effort to forget, she wonders if jumping into the next thing is quite the right thing to do either.
Maybe she just needs more time to decide what she really wants, as well as what she really needs.
“I just don’t know where I…” she trails off helplessly, hoping that he’ll understand what she’s trying to say without her actually having to say it.
By the way his eyes soften sympathetically, she knows he has.
“I know there’s been a lot of uncertainty in your life recently, Agent Knight, and our MCRT isn’t the most stable place right now-“ he shoots her a wry look as she barely holds back a snort because that might well be the understatement of the century- “but I’m hoping to change that. That team has always been somewhat of a family, it seems to attract the people who need it most.”
This is what she’s heard. The MCRT is a family. Untouchable unless you want Gibbs on your tail.
And she might not have met the man until recently, but she’s heard many stories.
About his attitude, about his legacy, about how he’s easy to get on the wrong side of but once you’re on the right side, he’s fiercely protective, almost to a fault on occasion.
Oh, and about his flip phone.
“I heard it’s always been Gibbs who brought everyone in.”
She’s not really sure how the MCRT is going to operate now, without its leader, but she also knows that she’s not the only one who’s wondering.
“He only kept the best around, that’s for sure,” Vance agrees thoughtfully, “but something tells me that Agent McGee is going to hold up that legacy,” his cheek twitches with concealed amusement, “haven’t you noticed that you’ve already been adopted in?”
Narrowing her eyes, Jess thinks back. McGee had been the one to take a chance on her joining the case for her team, not Gibbs. In fact, Gibbs hadn’t been involved at all. And McGee had been the one to talk to her at the end of it all, offering the only words of reassurance he could.
“Families grow,” she murmurs, shaking herself when she notices the Director’s curious look, “it’s uh, something McGee said to me, right after… it all happened.”
He nods in understanding, “He’s right. And NCIS has a strange way of bringing people together.”
The way he looks past her, into the reflective middle distance, has her curious at what memories this conversation is clearly bringing up for him and the intrigue must show on her face because he turns to lean back against the edge of his desk, giving the impression that it’s Leon Vance the man, rather than the Director, in front of her now.
“My wife, you know she was killed, some years ago now?”
Jess nods wordlessly. She’d attended the funeral.
Not because she’d known Jackie particularly well (although the few times they had met, she’d got a distinct momma bear impression that had immediately endeared her) but as a favour to her father, who had known Jackie better, and as support to Vance.
“Well, my agents helped me,” he tells her simply, a hint of a fond smile on his face, “Gibbs would drag me out to that cabin of his while Tony DiNozzo and Ziva David had movie nights with my kids. Miss Sciuto helped with so many science projects I’ve lost track-” he gives a faint chuckle- “and there’s no one better to help with college applications than Agent McGee.”
Smiling – because she’s only known McGee for a pretty short time and yet she can completely imagine that somehow – she observes, “They became your family.”
“They did,” he agrees, then shrugs lightly, “and they still are, even the ones who have since moved away. They didn’t replace anyone, they simply added to my life-“ as he fixes her with a look, she gets the impression that he’s about to make his point- “but only because I let them help me.”
Something in Jess tenses. She knows what he’s telling her to do – he wants her to let them in.
She’s never been much good at letting people in. It’s just… uncomfortable at this point, having people who really know her.
Or maybe it’s just a little terrifying. Because truly knowing someone involves them seeing the good things and the bad things, it means them passing judgment on it all and it means them learning about the things that you’d really rather keep hidden because they’re too painful or too guilt-inducing or too awkward.
“Everyone here has been touched by loss, in more ways than most out there-“ agents lost in the line of fire, agents lost to overwork and stress, agents lost to the Navy Yard bombing nearly ten years ago now- “they can help you, if you can let them,” he shoots her a rare vulnerable smile, “just like they’ve helped me.”
Then again, she reminds herself, just because letting people in is terrifying, doesn’t mean it’s not worth it.
Her REACT team had known her, even if she’d still held them at arm’s length at times, and that had brought about more good things than bad over the years. They’d been good people, just like she knows the MCRT are.
Knowing that Vance is waiting for her answer, she takes a deep breath and allows a smile to creep onto her face, “Okay then, Director. I’ll join the team.”
“Excellent!” and just like that he’s back in his roll, passing her a small stack of papers and a pen, “here are the forms.”
Flicking through the forms just to check there’s nothing she doesn’t already know about (never good to be surprised by these things), she jokes, “At least I can tell my dad what I plan to do now, if I had to hear him suggest I switch to teaching once more I might have hung up on him.”
Vance throws his head back in a laugh at the ongoing saga between her and her father. She’s fairly certain he hears about it from her dad too but they both know it’s more of a running joke than anything else at this point.
Her dad might not have wanted her to be an NCIS agent (and he still doesn’t) but he also knows that he’s not going to change her mind well over ten years in.
“The next time your father suggests it, you point him in my direction and I’ll kindly suggest to him maybe he’s ready for an easier assignment… like a nice comfortable teaching post at FLETC,” he winks conspiratorially and she lets out an involuntary laugh.
Catching sight of the genuine twinkle in his eye, she begins to wonder if maybe she has more family than she’d thought still here at NCIS.
Tim (3):
“Have you seen the new update on our phones?”
It’s a slow afternoon.
Parker has dragged Torres off to a conference (he’d protested that he could lead it, which had only landed him in hot water when their team leader had simply raised an eyebrow and challenged him ‘prove it’) and the only thing on their plates is paperwork.
Not that Jess wants to be all hands on deck for a serial killer or something. But, you know, a minor break in or even a stolen car would be interesting at this point.
So whatever weird new gadget or software or anything McGee has found, it’s got to be better than this.
“No?”
Tim is grinning at her over their monitors. It’s a wide-eyed smile that’s reserved exclusively for tech-y or nerdy things that she usually doesn’t understand but dammit is she going to try today.
“If you go to the top of your photo gallery, it’ll show you photos from that time a year or two before.”
“Really? That’s actually cool-” she very much fails to keep the surprise out of her voice but it doesn’t seem to dampen his enthusiasm- “I’ll see what comes up on mine.”
Pulling up her photo gallery, she scrolls to the top. Nothing appears.
She scrolls down and back up again. Still nothing.
Stubbornly, she refreshes the page. Nope.
Resigning herself to needing tech help, she calls out, “McGee-“ but cuts herself off with a sharp inhale when it loads suddenly and displays a photo with the caption ‘one year ago today!’
It’s a selfie. From one of the few times she’d ever managed to get her team to go camping with her.
(Benny had sworn off after a poison ivy incident, Eddie had a healthy distrust of tents after what he called ‘the great collapse of oh-two’ and Di had always protested that hiking was hard enough without lugging camping equipment.)
She and Eddie are in the foreground, his arm thrown affectionately around her shoulders, while Benny and Diana can be seen splashing about a river in the background.
Jess can still remember laughing until she cried as moments after this shot, Di had jumped onto Benny’s shoulders and dragged him into the shallows with her. He’d come up with such an injured expression that even Di had begun to feel bad, not knowing it was all a ploy to get close enough to return the favour.
Eddie had ended up depositing her on a boulder to laugh it out, clutching at her aching ribs, while he retrieved towels for their now dripping teammates with no small amount of fond exasperation.
Now, Jess feels like she might cry for a completely different reason.
She knows she should feel the joy from the memory – she knows it’s still inside her somewhere – but all she can think when she looks at the picture is that they’re not here anymore.
They’re gone.
Over the last few months, it’s got slightly easier to go about her day-to-day life without them but she’s never prepared for times like this, when it just hits her out of nowhere. Full force and painful.
“Jess? You okay?”
Shit, McGee is here. She’s in the squad room.
“Yeah just…” she shakes her head trying to clear her mind or catch her breath or simply work out what to say, “got caught off guard.”
Tim tilts his head, “By a good memory or bad?”
She glances down at the photo, feeling the almost physical pain shoot through her once more, then turns the phone towards him, waiting for him to roll over on his chair before she quietly explains, “Good memory. Less good association right now.”
McGee looks thoughtfully down at the photo, then back up at her, face perfectly calm (has Jess ever actually seen him angry? Stressed, yes. Upset even, if very occasionally. But angry? She doesn’t think so) as he leans back in his chair.
“One day you’ll be able to look at photos like that without feeling as much of the negative,” he offers, knowledgably, “I’ve always found it comes in stages, at first it hurts too much to look, then over time you remember the loss less and the happiness you felt at being with those people more.”
Jess often forgets how much she still doesn’t know about Tim. They’ve worked together for a few months now and while she doesn’t necessarily see him as a closed book, he’s more of a long, incredibly detailed book that’s hard to navigate without a good index.
He’s hard to get information from unless you know which questions to ask.
“It’s not just the loss…” she pauses, almost stopping completely, but McGee has been such a calming force these last few months so she forces herself into the realm of being open, “I’ve lost people before and you’re right.”
The memories come back, in full and vivid colour. Perhaps the colours are slightly different – a different palette or with a cloud hanging over them or a slightly rosy tint – but they do come back.
“But this is different,” she admits, refusing to drop her gaze from his, “I was there when it happened. I could have-“ could have, should have, one or the other- “died too. I just… didn’t.”
“You feel guilty.”
It’s a neutral comment, no judgment (there’s perhaps even a hint of understanding) or question but she nods anyway.
“Sometimes.”
And that’s when she drops his gaze, tucking her hair out of her face and taking a deep centring breath as she pushes her hands flat against the table to ground herself.
“I try not to. But it’s not as easy as just turning it off.”
“No, it’s not.”
Again, there’s a hint of understanding in his voice as he begins to roll his chair around to her. Not too close, thankfully, he’s always been careful not to encroach too far into her space, but just so there isn’t a desk and a whole load of office equipment in between them.
Leaning back in his chair, he studies at her seriously for a moment before quietly asking, “Have I ever told you about Special Agent Caitlin Todd?”
Jess wracks her brain for a moment but the name only sounds very vaguely familiar so she shakes her head.
“She was before your time. And by that I don’t mean before your time on this team, I mean she died years before you even graduated FLETC. She was on the team when I first joined it and she really was like a big sister to me.”
Tim’s smile turns sad and Jess suddenly remembers with a pang of dread where she’s seen the name before.
The NCIS ‘Tribute To Our Fallen’ wall.
“Kate was killed on duty, by a sniper.”
The words send another pang through her.
The words along with the pain she can see in his eyes. Pain that’s still there, even what, fifteen? Sixteen? Years later.
If that’s not confirmation that it never truly goes away, nothing is.
“I didn’t see it happen, but I was there,” he continues, his voice almost disconcertingly even, “and if that wasn’t bad enough, we later found out that the man who did it took a shot at me before her. Only missed because someone else started shooting too and I ducked.”
Jess blinks at him in shock but he just carries on as if he didn’t just drop a bombshell (okay possibly not the best choice of words in the circumstances, she’s not above using dark humour but it might still be too soon) on her.
Or perhaps it’s not a bombshell. He’s been an agent for coming up on twenty years, she hates to think how many times he’s been shot at, how many times he’s nearly died.
“For a long time, I wondered if he would have stopped, if he’d got me-” although she supposes that the one who killed your friend and nearly killed you would stick in the mind more than most. Evidently so, by the lost look that’s crept into his eyes- “if I’d died, would Kate still have too?”
“You have no way of knowing,” she reminds him gently to break him out of his trance.
He blinks, seeing her as if for the first time.
Jess wonders if this is usual for him, getting lost in himself. But he quickly recovers, shifting slightly in his chair and offering her a small smile.
“Exactly. It took a long time but eventually I learned to not think about it, because there’s no answer. I push away any guilt I feel because I can’t change the past. And I can’t swap anyone’s life for mine.”
There’s something in his voice that makes her ask, “Would you?”
Tilting his head in a sort of shrug, he answers honestly, “Maybe in the past, I would have said yes but now I don’t think I believe trades like that really benefit anyone. Would you?”
Choosing between mourning them all or making them all mourn her? There’s no choice.
Glancing down at her phone, still displaying the photo from where it sits innocently on her desk, she almost embraces the feelings it gives her. The wave of loneliness, the piles of regrets and wasted times, the gaps she can still see dotted throughout her day-to-day life.
The voice repeating in her head ‘they’re gone, they’re gone. You’re the only one left. Only you.’
“I wouldn’t wish this feeling on anyone.”
But if she breathes evenly and digs deeply beneath it all, she can almost find the carefree joy of the day again.
She’s never going to have another day quite like that one.
In time, she might be able to use that to remember the day as an especially good one, not think of every other day as a bad one.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” Tim offers and she gifts him what she can scrape together into an almost genuine smile.
“I won a bet.”
McGee smirks, not looking in the least surprised, turns around to fish a box of brioche Parker had left for them off his desk and offers her one, then leans back in his chair with a soft grin.
“Okay, now this I have to hear.”
Settling back, she launches into the story, choosing to tell it as if they’re still alive.
Because if she does then maybe they still are, in a way.
Nick (4):
Jess feels Nick’s curious gaze on her as she declines the call and slips her phone back into her pocket.
“My dad,” she explains at his unasked question, “I’ll call him back in a bit.”
“If you wanna talk to him, go ahead. We’re gonna be driving for a while,” he motions at the slow-moving traffic ahead of them then bangs out a restless beat on the steering wheel as he shoots her an amused look, “and it’s not like I’d be able to understand what you’re saying anyway.”
She chuckles but shakes her head, “No, it’s okay. I only talked to him yesterday, he’s been checking in a bit more regularly recently. I uh,” she shuffles awkwardly, not really sure why she’s still talking, “I guess he’s worried.”
Her dad hadn’t met her team many times over the years but he had known how important they were to her. And when they had met, she’d always got the sense that he was grateful for them being there for her while he was on the other side of the world.
Now, he knows her well enough to know how lost she is without them, even a few months along.
And even with her new team.
“Does he have reason to be?”
Her new team who still surprise her with how easily they’ve welcomed her in. Like in these little moments of genuine sentiment or the concern that she can hear in Torres’ voice now.
Not able to take herself to as deep an answer as he’s cautiously fishing for, she keeps it vague, shrugging lightly, “What happened isn’t something I’m ever going to get over.”
“They were your family,” he agrees simply, as if that explains everything.
And maybe it does.
They were her family.
“And I don’t think I realised quite how true that was until they were gone,” she admits softly, only realising she’d said it aloud when she feels his gaze on her.
She can’t find it in herself to meet his eye, not when she doesn’t quite know what she’s going to find there. And even more so when she doesn’t know what’s happening on her own face.
Eventually, Nick does look away – if only because the traffic starts moving – and the silence grows just long enough that it almost becomes awkward until he suddenly asks, “Did you ever meet a Clayton Reeves? MI6 agent, worked at the desk just behind… yours, a few years back.”
Ignoring the way he stumbles over who the desk belongs to (McGee does it too sometimes, she can’t take it personally, not when all their teammates have meant so much to them over the years and no one more than Bishop to Torres), she shakes her head.
Even though he’s not looking directly at her, he clearly sees because he continues, “Well, he worked with us on quite a few cases. We had a bit of a friendly rivalry going, you know, posturing-“ Jess rolls her eyes at that, of course they did- “but he was a good, kind man.”
There’s that genuine quality to his voice again, the one that’s most often hidden behind a cocky bravado, and yet here it is for the second time in as many minutes.
“But he was killed. And it wasn’t until after he was gone that I realised he was a brother to me.”
Oh. This is why he’s telling her. He’s trying to get her to see that he understands without just saying the words ‘yeah, I get that, it sucks.’
“At first I regretted that I’d never told him but then I came to see that it had always been true, even if we’d never said it-“ his hands begin to tap against the steering wheel again, giving Jess the distinct impression that he would be pacing around right now if they weren’t stuck in a queue of traffic- “we lived as brothers and often actions speak louder than words.”
Maybe he’s offering more than just understanding; there’s insight here too.
“If you spent time with them, if you did the little things to show that you cared, then you have nothing to regret.”
He’s not trying to be empathetic; he’s trying to make it a little easier on her, trying to pull her back before she can spin into another spiral of regrets.
And his words are reassuring, in a way.
She doesn’t reply – and she gets the feeling that he doesn’t expect her to when he turns up whatever Latin pop has been playing quietly in the background – but she does think.
Or perhaps remember is a better word.
She remembers their routine after particularly draining hostage situations, when most of the pressure had been placed on her shoulders because it was her area and her job and all she’d needed to do was crash but there had still been piles of paperwork to wade through.
Benny would pick up the slack on any of her paperwork he could, Diana would get her a fresh chai with an amount of honey that only she could seem to get perfect (and always in the same travel mug, one Di had bought specially for these occasions but Jess now uses every day as a reminder) and Eddie would drive her home after, always leaving her with a loving kiss on a forehead and strict instructions to not come in again for at least twelve hours.
His fondly exasperated face when she arrived back at work as normal the next day had always made her feel better than a few hours more rest would have anyway.
She remembers the time she and Benny had driven a sixteen hour round trip to get the very specific Vermont maple whiskey for Eddie when he’d been in recovery from a bullet to the shoulder a few years back.
(They’d presented it to him then she’d been quickly forced to put it in a lock box to stop him from drinking it then and there and messing up his meds.)
She remembers their fierce protection of Diana, the (reluctant) baby of the group and Jess’ honorary little sister, how she would pat Di playfully on the head just to watch her face scrunch up in reproach.
For however much she pretended to hate it, Jess knows she’d seen it as the comfort or show of pride it had been meant as.
She remembers the absolute hysterics when they’d spent one (admittedly quite drunk) evening setting up a dating profile for Benny after he’d complained about the lack of gay bars and the running joke it had turned into when, two years later, he’d married the very first match he’d got.
The three of them had fought over who would be best man so overdramatically, Benny had given up, rolling his eyes and telling them to tag-team it.
And they’d done it wonderfully, even if she does say so herself.
She has a video of their speech somewhere. She should dig that out. Not today. Or even tomorrow, that feels like more than she can take just now. But one day.
Maybe it will prove to her what Torres is trying to say and what she might possibly be starting to see for herself; that she doesn’t have anything to regret.
Suddenly aware again of Nick as he tries to hit a high note that he’s definitely not capable of reaching, a laugh bubbles out of her, genuine with mirth as he grins back, winking charmingly.
Rolling her eyes, she turns the music up another few notches anyway, tapping out the catchy rhythm on her leg.
She wants to hold her old team – family – close, it’s true. But maybe there’s space for a few new memories too.
Parker (5):
Jess double and triple checks that Torres and McGee are both gone for the day before making her way over to Parker’s desk.
It’s not that she doesn’t trust them, or couldn’t open up to them – if the situation absolutely called for it – it’s just that she only wants to get one set of concerned or, worse still, pitying looks.
“Hey Parker,” she greets him, resisting the urge to twist her hands together nervously by placing them pointedly at her sides, “do you have any objections to me having tomorrow morning off?”
Their team leader finishes signing whatever document it is he’s working on with a quick flick then looks up at her, shrugging lightly, “Uh, sure. We’ll see you in the afternoon then.”
And that’s it.
It’s not that she’d expected him to say no – they don’t have any big cases at the moment and she doesn’t exactly ask for the morning off regularly – just that she’d worked herself up to having to explain and now she has all this pent-up anxiety…
“You don’t need to know why?” she stutters, immediately hating how unsure her voice comes out.
“Nope, none of my business.”
Parker is already lent back over his forms, seeming to think the matter closed, but as she continues to linger there, he pauses once again in his writing and directs a raised eyebrow in her direction.
“Unless you… want to tell me?” he asks, trailing off in a way that’s hovering at about the midline between awkward and concerned.
“I mean, I was preparing myself for having to say it out loud but…” she trails off, wondering what she’s supposed to do now.
Maybe she should add another sparring session in for tonight. Get out some of this whatever it is she’s feeling.
“Knight? Is everything okay?”
The awkwardness is gone now, leaving only a warm concern that makes her realise that maybe she’s been looking for someone to share this with.
She feels like she’s carrying it alone.
And if there’s anything that her team have been trying to get her to understand over the last few months, it’s that she doesn’t have to.
“Tomorrow is six months since my team died-” she cringes as it sort of tumbles out in a rush, mentally shaking herself and clearing her throat before adding- “I uh, haven’t had chance to go and visit their graves in a while so.”
There’s a beat of silence where she begins to wonder if she’s brought awkward Parker back, then, “Take the whole day.”
“What? No, that’s okay!-“ that’s the last thing she wants, too many questions and too much inconvenience- “I’ll come in-“
“Jessica.”
Her name stops her protestations in their tracks. Partly because, is this the first time he’s ever used her full name?
But mostly because of the way he says it. Soft but firm: gentle leader style.
“I know what it’s like, trying to not think about people you’ve lost most of the time so it doesn’t hurt as much.”
It’s a rare moment of vulnerability from Parker, reminding Jess that, they don’t actually know much about this man at all.
They know some of his history at the bureau (at least the non-classified stuff on file), they know he likes pastries and birds, they know he was married once.
It’s all quite vague really.
Then again, the fact that he’s sharing at all, that he’s shown he’s willing to stick out his neck for them, that might be all they need for now.
“But it’s important to remember too, okay?“
Parker’s face is serious, as if almost begging her to understand. Because he’s right, as important as it is to try and move on, it’s important to remember too.
Remember the people and their lives, remember the memories made bittersweet by nostalgia and loss and the relentless ambling of time.
Try and walk the thin line between honouring and spiralling.
“Even if it’s just one day a year-“ one day, she can control everything for one day- “give them their day.”
Their day.
Maybe that’s what she’s forgetting. The rest of the year it’s about her survival, getting from one day to the next without tripping and falling over stray memories or reminders of lives lost.
But for one day, it should be about them.
Jimmy (+1):
“I think it’s my turn to get everyone!”
There are various (mostly sober) agreements and thanks around the table as Jimmy shuffles out of the booth.
“I’ll give you a hand,” Jess offers quickly, scooching out after him and falling into step at his side for the short trip across the bar.
They’re in a little indie place that Kasie had found a few months back and promptly fallen in love with.
It hadn’t taken much convincing for Jess to come along the last few times but it had been harder to persuade the rest of the team to change the venue for the ‘team night out’ they have whenever a suitable Friday night comes along.
Nick had complained he didn’t know any indie music, Parker had proclaimed himself too old and Tim’s protestation had been that he couldn’t leave Delilah with the twins.
Kasie had informed Nick quite firmly that he would learn, convinced Parker by telling him about the live plants the bar has dotted around on every possible surface and called in a favour from a cousin to babysit the twins so Delilah could join them.
She’d even managed to sweet-talk Vance into coming.
Jess isn’t quite sure how but suspects that he has a bigger soft spot for Kasie than he would ever admit aloud.
So here they all are, the whole team squished into the one big booth in the corner.
“Two rum and coke, one vodka lemonade, two coke and three beers, please.”
While Jimmy pays for his round, Jess leans back against the bar, people watching.
Although, there aren’t many other people in so early in the evening – they’d actually left the office at a reasonable time for once – so she mostly ends up watching the team.
Tim has taken her spot immediately in her absence but she can’t find it in herself to be offended when she notices it’s so he can hold Delilah’s hand sweetly under the table.
It’s an adorable (almost nauseatingly so) point of contact between them while they, for all intents and purposes, ignore each other, with Delilah enraptured in a discussion with Vance and Tim talking to Nick.
Kasie is practically cuddled into Parker’s side, which would almost be cute in a wholesome father/daughter type way if the look on her face didn’t tell Jess that she still trying to persuade him to sing ‘I’ll be your mirror’ with her.
For now, he’s firm in his position but Jess is pretty sure it’s only going to take one rum and coke each for her to successfully charm him into it.
Nick and Tim seem to agree with her; she catches sight of them several times glancing over from whatever conversation they’re having with amused looks.
Quite honestly, it’s a relief to see Nick so engaged. And alive looking. He’s slowly coming back into himself after the whole self-isolation/cage match situation.
Which is amazing, they’d all been worried. Really worried, seeing him kind of fall apart, almost in slow motion and feeling more than a little helpless to stop it.
She’s aware she hasn’t known the team very long, but they’re easy people to care about.
With that thought, the realisation washes over her that… it’s been less than a year but maybe these guys are becoming her family. And that’s more than a little scary.
In fact, it’s terrifying.
She didn’t think it would be. Actually, she didn’t think that she would find another family, not like her old team, and she’s not sure how to deal with how this has sort of crept innocently up on her.
There’s a tightness across her chest and she forces herself to breathe evenly.
She can’t pull away. She can’t spend more time being scared to let people in. She refuses.
Just look at Nick. Sometimes they’re more similar than she’d like to admit and see where isolating himself had got him? Quite literally in a cage fight. She doesn’t want anyone worried about her like they were (and really still are) about him.
And okay, a fear of being an inconvenience to friends – or family – is probably not the main reason someone should work on their issues.
But the truth is, she’s tired. Exhausted really, of carrying this around.
Day-to-day life feels just about possible again, with all her different routines and the new people around her but the memories are constantly there, just out of sight. They sweep her clean off her feet every time they surface and she doesn’t know what else she can do.
Then again, the only reason she’s got this far is because of the team. Jimmy had been right all those months ago (and on many occasions since, he’s wise like that), sometimes listening is as helpful as talking.
In a show of perfect timing, Jimmy moves from the register to lean against the bar at her side, his shoulder almost brushing hers as he smiles out at their team in a sort of care-free, joyful way.
He doesn’t make a secret of how much he cares about them. They’re his family and he’ll never let them forget it.
And, if she’s honest with herself, maybe she wants a family again too.
So, the next step is on her. She wants to listen, she might even want to talk. Even though she knows, it’s going to be hard.
Swallowing, she calls, “Hey, Jimmy?”
“Yes, Jess?”
She can hear the smile in the way he says her name, see the light dancing in his eyes as he turns to her, feel his presence in a way that’s somehow instantly calming.
“Do you still go to that group?” she asks, resisting the urge to twist her hands anxiously together, “the uh, the grief counselling one?”
There’s an excitement that lights up endearingly behind his glasses but Jess appreciates the way he keeps his voice even as he confirms, “Once a week, yeah.”
Maybe if he’d made a bigger deal of it, not kept it casual like they’re discussing the weather or something, she wouldn’t be able to take it any further.
But it’s Jimmy, he alway approaches everything with sensitivity and, if she’s honest with herself, he’s one of her closest friends.
“You still think I should come?”
“I do,” he nods, expression earnest, “I really think it could help.”
She believes him. Somewhat inexplicably.
Taking a breath, she turns her back to the room, instead resting forwards against the bar and idly watching the bartender put together the last of their drinks.
“I’ve heard a few stories over the last few months,” she admits, not having to look at him to know that he’s listening intently, “it’s made me realise that what you said is right, sometimes listening to other people’s experiences help. So even if I don’t share all that much…”
“There’s no pressure to,” he confirms when she trails off.
“And there’s no pressure to keep going, if I hate it, right?” she glances towards him, hating that she needs to be reassured but knowing that the last thing she wants to feel is trapped.
That’s what she’s been feeling for months, trapped in emotions that she doesn’t know how to deal with.
“Right,” he assures with a smile, readjusting his glasses, “although I would encourage going a few times regardless. The first couple are especially hard, having to face everything head on, especially if you use avoidance as a coping strategy.”
Jess grimaces self-deprecatingly, “Like I do.”
At least she’s self-aware enough to recognise that.
“Like a lot of us do,” he reminds her gently, “Jess, you’re not struggling alone, believe me.”
His voice is low now and he’s leaning towards her, making her forget the exposed feeling of being this vulnerable in a room of people, strangers and friends alike.
“And yes, it’s hard but…” trailing off, he places his hand gently over hers, “you are stronger than you know.”
Jess isn’t sure which to react to first, his words or the way his thumb passes over her knuckles quickly before he takes his hand back again. Both make a warmth curl inside her but it only takes her a moment to realise they’re different types of warmth.
The main feeling is a sense of being cared for, reassured, but lingering in the back is an impending hint of romance.
Oh shit.
Immediately, she squashes it flat. She’s not looking for a relationship, he’s definitely not looking for a relationship – it’s only been two years since he lost his wife for fucks sake, she’s not going to be the one to ask if he’s ready for that – and he’s one of her best friends.
She’s not doing this. Nope. That thought is going to live in the most secure box she can build, tucked away in a forgotten corner of her mind.
Thankfully, the last of their drinks are ready now and she takes a breath before smiling gratefully at Jimmy and grabbing probably more of the glasses than she should carry in one go.
Passing off one beer to Vance, then another to Tim as he moves out for her to scooch past him, she keeps the third for herself and squishes in next to Nick as she sets his coke in front of him.
“Oh, thank you!” he gasps dramatically, “thank you for saving me from Tim and his rambles, I don’t even understand!”
“Hey, that was a rant, not a ramble,” McGee protests around Jess as he slips back in next to her.
Pulling a face into his coke, Nick wipes the water from the condensation off his hand onto his jeans, then waves the hand around vaguely, “Rant, ramble. Same difference!”
“No, definitely not,” Tim shakes his head seriously but Jess can see the amusement shining in his eyes, “rants have passion but purpose. Rambles are… rambling.”
That nearly breaks Nick, she can see the way his lips twitch as he protests, “Okay, see, no. Now you’re just making stuff up! Back me up here, Knight.”
But Jess doesn’t get chance to tell Nick just how much she’s not going to be getting into this strange debate that she almost regrets walking into because their attention is caught by Parker slumping down opposite them, taking a few large gulps of his drink.
“Well, I think Jimmy just saved my vocal chords,” he sighs in lieu of a greeting.
“And your dignity,” Nick adds, voice laced with mock sorrow.
“Yeah,” Tim chimes in, eyebrow raised teasingly, “I was starting to think you might actually do it.”
Rolling his eyes good-naturedly at their ribbing, Parker lifts his already half empty glass into the air, “I need more than a single rum and coke for that to happen.”
“Don’t tell Kasie that, she’ll make it her mission to get you drunk enough.”
While Nick and Tim continue tag-teaming up against Parker, Jess scans the bar for Jimmy, who had barely had chance to give Delilah her vodka lemonade before being pounced on by Kasie.
They’re over by the karaoke machine now. Jimmy doesn’t even seem to be resisting too much – then again, he has always been pretty relaxed and more immune to the feeling of embarrassment, compared to Jess at least.
Although thinking about it, that might not be hard. Jess could be described using many different words but she’s sure that it wouldn’t matter how many people she asked, not a single one would say ‘relaxed.’
Not realising she’d zoned out, she’s jolted out of her thoughts when Nick lightly knocks their shoulders together in his own casually tactile way.
“You good?”
He’s asking a genuine question – she’s noticed that he makes a point to check in every so often – and after glancing around to see everyone else absorbed in their own conversations, she gives him a genuine answer.
“Getting there,” she nods, taking a sip of her drink then shooting him a serious look, “you?”
His eyebrow quirks in amusement as he parrots, “Getting there.”
Raising her glass, she waits for him to clink his against hers with a grin then takes another sip.
The fact that he’s on just coke tonight gives her some hope that he’s not lying but that’s the problem with Torres – and again, probably with her too, they’re too alike in some ways – they’re both pretty good at pretending to be okay.
Especially when it’s the same every day, no hiding from whatever is going off in their brains.
But then, there are also evenings like tonight, with good company and good atmosphere, that can go a long way to making a night bearable.
“Days like these, help,” she comments.
Nick nods, then shoots her a sly look out the corner of his eye, “And the company ain’t too bad either.”
“Wow, what a ringing endorsement,” she laughs.
As the microphones crackle to life and her friends’ voices float out through the speakers, Jess takes a moment to look around her.
Jimmy and Kasie are holding their friends enraptured, Nick whooping from beside her as Tim cuddles closer to Delilah to watch and Parker and Vance exchange slightly bemused looks, probably wondering – as Jess is – how they got here.
The way Kasie is going for it means she’s going to try and drag Jess up there before the night is over and, while she knows Torres and McGee are going to be about as sympathetic to her plight as they had been to Parker’s, she can’t find it in herself to mind too much.
Because she knows that as soon as a situation turns even slightly serious, they’ll be at her side in an instant, probably even if she tries to push them away.
And as much as she isn’t ready to think of them as family yet, she knows that this lot… they’re not just any team.