NCIS One Shot: No Hesitation
Summary: When it comes down to the love between you and Gibbs, there is never any hesitation.
Word Count: 2.6k
Requested By: Anon
Notes: Am I forgiven by my followers now?
You don’t hesitate. Not even for a second.
“Shoot me, not him.”
As soon as the words leave your mouth, you knew you’d be in for it with Gibbs. That didn’t matter right now. You need to focus on redirecting that gun from his face to yours.
“Yeah? Maybe I should!” The man’s eyes are crazed, waving the gun violently towards you.
Your hands are outstretched in front of you, surrendering
“I’m the one you want,” says Gibbs, jaw tightening. His eyes lock with yours, and in that brief moment you see a rush of emotions swirl furiously in the icy blue irises before it’s all replaced with steely determination.
His attention is back on the man who has him cuffed to the pipes. “You don’t want her. You w-”
“Shut up!” The gun is being waved between you and Gibbs now. The man seems unsure of who to shoot. You see his finger tighten on the trigger as the gun steadies on your boyfriend’s temple.
In a split second decision, you take a step forward, hoping to disarm the man while his attention is on Gibbs.
Your heart leaps to your throat at the sound of the gun discharging, and you leap on the man. Wrestling for the gun, there’s a fire of hatred in your blood, blazing hot in revenge for your boyfriend.
The man loses grip on the gun just as his finger finds the trigger once more.
He lands in a heavy heap at your feet.
You pay him little notice as you spin around towards Gibbs. Oh, god he’s been shot. He’s been shot. He’s been shot.
You fall to your knees in front of him, hands diving into your pocket to retrieve the handcuff keys to free him. Your eyes are frantically searching his body for the bullet hole.
But you don’t find any. Eyebrows furrowed in confusion you realize that the only blood you see is the dried blood on his temple from where he had been pistol whipped.
Gibbs hasn’t said anything. His eyes are wide with shock.
“[Y/N],” he says weakly. You follow his eyes to your shoulder.
Suddenly, it feels as though the air has been knocked out of you. The black spots in your vision make it hard for you to concentrate on unlocking the cuffs on Gibbs.
The key clatters to the ground. You blink slowly, confused at the sudden lack of keys in your hands. You’re overwhelmed by the metallic taste in your mouth.
“[Y/N]!” His voice is urgent now. Desperate. Scared. He’s straining against the metal bands around his wrists, the only thing keeping him from helping you. “Give me the keys, then I can get you help!”
But you’re already swaying, eyes unfocused.
“[Y/N]! Hey. Focus on me,” he tries again, trying to snap your attention to him. You reach down to recollect the keys off the grey stone floor.
You just barely pass him the keys before a world of pain sends you crashing down into darkness.
The rushed voices and the accidental rough jarring of the gurney forces you rudely awake, pulling you from your warm cocoon.
Instead, you’re thrust back in a world that’s entirely too bright and painful. Your vision is all fuzzy, but you manage to pick out your boyfriend amongst the blurs.
His eyes snap to your face at the sound of his name being called. He wastes no time hesitating to get his words out to you. “[Y/N], you’re not going to die. That’s an order!”
“Yessir,” you murmur before you slip back into the beckoning darkness.
His pale face and the blinding hallway white walls of the hospital is the last thing you see before it all fades away.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
There’s an incessant beeping around your ears, and your hands move to swat it away as if there are mosquitoes whining beside them.
Beep. Beep. Beep.
The sound is getting louder, and you try to run from the noise.
You sigh in relief as the noise starts to fade.
“She’s flatlining! Grab the paddles!”
The voice is booming. It hurts your ears. Your feet move you further away to seek comfort from it.
“It’s not working, try again!”
You feel safe here. Warm. You pay the faded voice no mind.
“One more time, highest charge. Clear!”
“[Y/N]! You wake up right now! Do you hear me? You can’t leave me. You can’t.”
It’s the only sound in the world that would make you leave this peaceful light and step back into a world of pain. You don’t hesitate in leaving the only comfort you’ve had since you slipped into the darkness.
You run to that voice you knew so well.
It’s the throbbing in your shoulder that wakes you up. You stir with a groan.
Why does the world have to be so bright?
The harshness of the light makes you want to shut your eyes again. A hand tightens around yours. and you realize Gibbs is beside you. Asleep, hand clutching yours, head in your lap.
The fond smile that makes its way onto your face despite your shoulder feeling like it’s being stabbed by a million knives, is just proof of the strength of your love for the marine.
You quietly assess your situation, not wanting to wake him. For however long you’ve been confined to this bed, you’re sure Gibbs hasn’t left your side once.
A nurse walks in and her mouth opens to call over a doctor, or maybe to wake Gibbs up, but you quickly put a finger to your lip. You shake your head with no hesitation.
Yes, you were in pain and frankly, you were scared about being here, but you wanted to let Gibbs sleep.
The nurse nods and walks off to find a doctor as you settle back into the pillows. Your eyelids are feeling heavy all of a sudden.
“That was the stupidest, most boneheaded thing you’ve ever done.” His soft voice sounds clear as day, despite the fact that the words were mumbled. He doesn’t move his head from your lap when he speaks.
“Jethrooo, if I wanted to be lectured, I wouldn’t have woken back up.”
You’re just teasing, but you feel the grip on your hands tighten. “I’m kidding. I came back for you. And only you.” He doesn’t respond, but you know he’s heard you.
Your eyes are fluttering back shut when you hear him whisper. “You came back.”
You put your free hand on top of his silver hair, stroking it softly. “I will always come back for you.”
“I wanna go home,” you say plaintively.
“They’re not going to let you go home just yet. You were shot in a major artery, [Y/N].”
“But I want to go home.”
The doctor walks into the room in the middle of your discussion with Gibbs. “I would like to go home, please.”
The doctor halts, looking between your pleading face and your boyfriend’s concerned look. “Your wound is healing nicely. We could let you go home, but it would be against medical advice…” he trails off.
“Get us the papers,” says Gibbs, after a glance at you.
“She will have to be under the care of someone for a solid two weeks, howev-”
“She has me,” cuts of Gibbs, without hesitation.
The doctor nods and heads off to find the necessary papers.
You can’t stop smiling. You’re going home.
Gibbs’s call of your name pulls you from sleep. You blink blearily in the darkness.
He calls your name again.
Sitting up and letting your eyes adjust to the darkness, you can make out Gibbs, lost in the throes of a nightmare.
He’s pressing his head hard into this pillows. Gibbs’s hands are opening and clamping down into fists and opening again. “Don’t go. Come back.”
His voice is strangled. Pained. Almost broken.
You don’t hesitate to snuggle into his side. Grabbing one of his arms, you rub small circles into his palm as you whisper, “I’m here. I never left. I never will.”
You keep going until his breathing is even and relaxed once again, safe once more in the embrace of sleep with you in his arms.
Your pain medication was always right on the bedside table with a glass of water beside it every morning.
Towels were always fresh and warm for every shower.
Breakfast, lunch, and dinner were always made in the snap of a finger.
Comfort food and chocolate suddenly were readily available.
Blankets, snuggles, kisses, and movies never ran out.
Hot baths were drawn for you every night.
You keep telling Gibbs that he doesn’t have to do this. That he’s putting too much effort into helping you on things you can do yourself.
Your words fall on deaf ears. Never once does he hesitate to cater to your every need and desire minutes before you even think of them.
You fall asleep clutched to his chest every night.
Not that you were complaining.
Everyone was excited to see you. And not that you were tired of seeing your boyfriend everyday, because you never would be, but you had been going stir crazy being in the house all day for two weeks.
You were just itching to be back at work.
As soon as you exit the elevator and the team spots you, you’re surrounded by your fellow team members.
“How are you feeling, my dear?”
“We missed you!”
“You missed so many stories! I need to catch you up!”
“Thank god, you’re back! I was stuck being partners with McDork for-ever.”
You were being smothered in careful hugs and cheers.
“Shouldn’t you all be working?”
The chattering dies down at the stern tone of the team leader. Everyone scurries back to their desks. You roll your eyes and turn to Gibbs.
“Woah there, Mr.Bodyguard. You don’t have to protect me from the team, Gibbs. They aren’t going to hurt me.”
Gibbs doesn’t hesitate to promptly ignore your words and subtly hover around you for the next month.
You’re bored out of your ever-loving mind.
Whoever created desk work is ruining your life.
And Gibbs had confined you to doing these files for a whole month.
His unrelenting resolution to release you from such torment was making you lose your marbles.
You don’t hesitate to pester him every chance you got until he finally deemed you ready for field work.
Gibbs’s eyes are watching you from the bed as you excitedly choose your outfit for your first day back of field work tomorrow.
He’s quiet as you talk continuously about being back at work.
His pause is what makes you turn to the bed. His head is propped up on his arm as he opens his mouth and shuts it.
“Do you think you’re ready for tomorrow? Do you have to be back in the field already?” he asks quietly.
The buzz you felt for tomorrow fades as you sit down beside him. “Of course, I’m ready!”
“But you’ve been working so hard. You should relax more.”
“I’ve been chained to my desk for like a month now.”
Though it was clear both of you disagreed about what the plans were for tomorrow, you both don’t hesitate in a goodnight kiss.
Although, Gibbs doesn’t find it in himself to fall asleep that night as he holds you tightly in his arms.
It’s his fault.
It’s his fault, and you know it.
You can’t prove it. But you know Gibbs has something to do with it.
So, you don’t hesitate to chew him out on the way home.
“I know you did something to my car, Jethro. There’s no way all that stuff happened just before I was set to step into the field.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, [Y/N].”
But it’s the slight reddening of his ears and the unwillingness to meet your eyes that confirm your suspicions.
When you’re finally back on the field, it isn’t as glorious as you thought it would be.
As it were, Gibbs has not left your side once. He’s always within arm’s reach.
The moment you think you’re finally alone, you turn, and bam!
There he is.
You almost accidentally shoot him twice because he was simply in the way too often.
You don’t hesitate to tell him that it might not become an accidental shooting if he doesn’t give you space to breathe.
The shouting match is the first you both have ever gotten into. You’re both breathing hard, pacing in the bedroom when you aren’t speaking.
“I’m not a baby, Jethro! I can handle myself!”
“I know you can! But as your team leader, you do not get to-”
“Don’t you team leader me. I’ve never seen you baby Tony or Tim like this!”
“That’s because this is different.”
“No, it isn’t! I’m a team member, same as they are!”
“No, [Y/N], it’s not.”
Gibbs exhales harshly, running a frustrated hand through his hair. Electric blue eyes staring with such intensity into yours.
“Because I can’t lose you!”
Silence. His words are deafening.
All at once, the high tension in the room dissipates. Your anger dissolves at his words, and your shoulders drop. Fight gone.
Gibbs isn’t looking at you anymore. He sits on the edge of his bed, trying to control his breathing pattern, head in his hands.
You bite your lip, and move to his side. You stand in front of him, wrapping your hands around his neck. He looks up at you. “You’re not going to lose me,” you say softly.
“You don’t know that.”
Neither of you speak. Gibbs lets out a sigh and falls backward onto the bed, pulling you down with him.
You giggle as you feel his hands wrap around your waist, your leg wedged in between his, chest to chest, foreheads pressed together, noses touching.
For a moment, time is frozen. You gaze into each other’s eyes, breathing, feeling, loving, before you both move in tandem into a desperate kiss.
He grips you tight and rolls you both over so that you were pinned beneath him. Gibbs’s breath tickles your ear as he lightly nips at your neck.
“I love you,” he murmurs, hand caressing your head gently while the other traces the exposed skin at the hem of your shirt.
“I love you,” you breathe back before your lips meet back in kisses that last the entire night.
You never once have to think about responding the way you do.
Neither does he. Because when it comes to you and when it comes to Gibbs, there isn’t another choice.
There’s you. And there’s him.
And he’ll always pick you. And you’ll always pick him.
“I love you,” he repeats, more fervently.
“I love you.”
Neither of you hesitate.
Not even for a second.