A/N: English isn't my mother language and this is not beta'd, so please bear with me. Also, in italics you find the lyrics to the song "Last Request" by Paolo Nutini, and, at some point, parts of a letter.

"I will, I'll get it for you," Doctor Mallard's soothing voice echoed in the empty, dim-lit Autopsy, "Yes, dear. I was about to leave, it won't be a problem to get it from your office and drop by on the way home."

The doors to Autopsy slid open quietly, but Ducky didn't seem to notice. Nor did he sense the man standing right behind him, as he still talked on the phone.

"First drawer of your desk, I will remember. I just hope you would remember to take your medication. You know how important it is to keep this under control, dear. You know what could happen otherwise." He paused, sighing at something the person on the phone was telling him, and his voice sounded scolding when he spoke again, "Please, tell me this is the first time you forget your medication, Jennifer."

The man standing behind him froze, the name piercing through him like a thousand needles.

And when Ducky eventually hung up and turned around, Leroy Jethro Gibbs was long gone.

"Agent Gibbs. Director Shepard already-"

The young woman didn't even get to finish her sentence before Gibbs all but stormed into Jenny's office, quickly rounding her desk and pulling the first drawer open. He immediately found what he was looking for, and slipped the orange-shaded bottle into his pocket before Cynthia stepped into the office.

"Director Shepard asked me to pick up something for her, Cynthia." He lied, sweeping a random file off Jenny's desk and walking straight to the door.

"Well, she didn't call to let me know…"

"Must have forgotten. Go home, Cynthia." He walked over to the elevator right as its doors were opening to reveal Ducky inside.

"Good evening, Jethro." The older man greeted as he tried to step out of the elevator. Only to have Gibbs block his path.

"Get back in there, Duck."

Without another word, Ducky stepped back into the elevator again and Gibbs followed him, pressing the button to close the doors and flicking the switch to stall the elevator immediately after the doors had closed.

Watching the scene unfold with an odd feeling, Cynthia grabbed her phone and quickly dialled a familiar number. Her boss answered on the second ring.


"Director Shepard, this is Cynthia. I'm sorry to be calling at this time, I just wanted to make sure you knew that Agent Gibbs has just stopped by your office to pick up something. He said you told him to…?" Cynthia's voice sounded sceptical, and Jen had to force back a groan as she figured out what exactly had happened.

"Yes, Cynthia. I asked him to pick up something for me, he's going to drop by on his way home. But thanks for calling, I appreciate that." She lied, and for a moment she was glad she hadn't called Cynthia to say she was supposed to let Ducky into her office when he got there. She assumed Ducky wasn't going to get there at all, if Jethro had beat him to it.

"Just making sure. Have a good night, Director."

"You too, Cynthia." Jen replied and hung up, walking over to the drinks cabinet to pour herself a large shot of bourbon.

She would need it if Jethro was going to pay her a visit.

"What is this, Duck?" Gibbs pulled out the orange bottle from his pocket and showed it to Ducky, his blue eyes questioning.

"It's a prescription, Jethro."

"Is she sick?" Gibbs pressed the matter, looking straight into Ducky's eyes.

"Obviously." The older man just motioned to the bottle in Gibbs' hand and answered simply, trying to find his way out of this.

"Is it serious?"

The worried, scared look in Gibbs' eyes made his heart ache, but Ducky managed to stay true to the promise he made, "I reckon that is Jennifer's decision whether to tell you or not."

Gibbs gave him a stern look, "You know she won't tell me. And I need to know, Ducky."

"I'm sorry, Jethro." Ducky moved forwards to flick the switch again, and the elevator started moving down. "I'm her doctor. You know I can't tell you anything about her health condition." The doors opened and Ducky turned to give Gibbs a sad smile, patting his shoulder, "If you want to know, I suggest you talk to Jennifer. And bring her that prescription, please. She should never forget her medication, the consequences could be dangerous."

And with that, he stepped out of the elevator, placed his hat on his head and left the building.

Sitting on her couch, staring at the pictures of an old file, Jen thought about her situation.

The letters had been coming for about two weeks before the phone call was finally placed and the identity revealed. Natasha Lenkov, a woman Jenny had known years before as Svetlana Chernitskaya. A woman she had been ordered to kill.

A mission she hadn't been able to accomplish.

Jethro's mission, killing Anatoly Zukov, Svetlana's partner, had been an easy one for him, and she had never told him about her failure. What he doesn't know can't hurt him, she kept on telling herself, and only now she finally realized how much it could actually hurt him.

When Natasha had called her, Jen knew what the woman wanted even before the date and time of their meeting was set. She wanted revenge, she wanted to kill the man who killed her partner. And she knew that she would have to go through Jenny to get to him.

Exactly like Jenny knew that this time there would be no room for second guessing, no space to step back and put away the gun.

The shrill sound of her doorbell broke her thoughts, and for once she almost wished Jethro would pick her lock or use his spare key, because her legs felt like stone when she got up, struggling to move her feet. She put away the pictures and the old file, and walked over to the front door, pulling it open.

"Hello, Jethro." She greeted him with a tired smile and stepped aside to let him in.

He stepped into the house and didn't say a word as she closed the door and slowly led the way into her study, his mind registering the way she seemed to drag her feet and struggle to move.

"I believe you have something of mine." She resisted the urge to lean against her desk and looked right up at him, not wanting to show her weakness to him.

Gibbs nodded and retrieved her prescription from his pocket, "Ducky said you need to take it now." He mumbled, quickly moving into the kitchen to pour her a glass of water.

She smiled at his gesture and reached out to the glass he was handing her. And she knew what was about to happen even before his hand let go of the glass.

Her hand moved forwards to grasp the glass, but her fingers didn't respond to the command and didn't flex as they should, letting the glass slip to the floor where it shattered, spilling all of its content.

Slow down, lie down,
Remember it's just you and me.
Don't sell out, bow out,
Remember how this used to be.

Much to her disgust, her eyes filled up with tears and she looked down at the water spreading on the hardwood floor.

"I…need to clean that up." Her words were barely audible, but they sounded loud and clear in the awkward silence filling the air. Still looking down, hoping he wouldn't notice the tears glistening in her eyes, if he hadn't yet picked up on her broken voice, she tried to make her way out of the study, but Gibbs' arm reached out to stop her.

"Sit down, Jen." The whisper landed on her hair as he pulled her close to him and led her to the armchair, and for a moment she wished he would never let go of her. But of course his sense of responsibility was stronger than anything he or she could be feeling right now, because he sat her down on the armchair and left her long enough to get another glass of water, along with her medication.

This time he stepped closer to her before he handed her the glass, making sure she had it before letting go. He handed her the orange-shaded bottle too, and watched her shake two pills out of it onto her hand, and swallow them with a gulp of water.

After carefully placing the glass on the small table next to the armchair, Jenny closed her eyes and leant back her head, hoping deep in her heart that the meds would kick in soon and stop the throbbing pain she started to feel in her limbs. She kept her eyes closed as she took a couple of deep breaths, not needing to look at him to know he was watching her with a question written all over his face.

"You can talk, you know…" She just said, trying to make the situation just a little lighter, desperately wanting the silence between them to be companionable and not plain awkward.

Gibbs kept silent as he crouched down next to her, looking up to see her open her eyes.

"I assume Ducky didn't tell you." She nodded thoughtfully as soon as she took in the look on his face.

"He didn't want to betray your trust…or whatever thing patient and doctor have going."

His reply caused a small giggle to escape her throat, and she was pleased to see a small smile creep on his face, although immediately replaced by the same worried look she had seen in his eyes a moment before.

"He did good, dear old Doctor Mallard. I'm gonna miss Ducky." She looked away, her own words causing a pain in her heart that she wasn't expecting. She thought she'd eventually come to terms with her illness and the lack of cure for it. She thought she would eventually go, feeling like she actually accomplished something in her life. But truthfully, she wasn't ready. She didn't feel like she was even half done with anything in her life, and she wanted time. She wanted more time, the only thing she couldn't buy or bargain for.

"You goin' somewhere?" Gibbs' innocent question snapped her out of her miserable thoughts, and for a split second she wondered whether he actually hadn't figured it out yet, or if he was just playing dumb to get her to talk.

Smiling wearily, she shook her head, "No, Jethro. I'm not going anywhere."

He nodded tightly and got up from his position at her feet, moving to the armchair in the other corner of the room and sitting down on it, his eyes locked on her figure.

"What's going on, Jen?"

She forced herself to hold his gaze as she tried to swallow the lump in her throat, "I don't really want to talk about it now, Jethro."

"Are you sick?" Gibbs pressed on, and she was forced to smirk slightly at his question.

"I feel like we already had this conversation, didn't we?"

"Yeah, but back then I didn't get a straight answer."

"What makes you think you'll get one now?"

Their eyes locked in a fierce staring match, and Jen refused to lower hers even when he gave her 'the glare'.

"Are you sick, Jen?"

She swallowed hard again, biting her lip briefly, "I said I don't want to talk about it, Jethro. Just drop it. Please."

Maybe it was the way she had pleaded with him to stop talking about it, or maybe it was just the desperation he heard in her voice, but he didn't press the matter any further and just sat there across the room, staring at her.

She looked away and the silence between them stretched for a couple of minutes, before a sad smile crept up on her face as she looked at him again, "Do you ever think about it?" Her question was quiet, but perfectly clear in the silent room.

She understood the questioning look on his face and shrugged, "About what could have been? After Paris… Do you ever think about it?"

It was something he was very familiar with, he thought about it more than he cared to admit, but he wasn't going to tell her that, "Sometimes." He answered vaguely.

Jen nodded, interpreting his answer for what it really was, wanting to push him some more, wanting to hear from him what he really thought, "I do think about it. Often. I wonder where we'd be now, whether I'd be Director anyway…"


His one-word answers were starting to irritate her, but she tried not to show it, "I wonder if I would have any kids… I'm not the mother type, you know…" She chuckled, but it was a bitter-sweet sound even to her own ears.

He too wondered where they'd be now, if she hadn't left him in Paris nine years ago. He wondered if he would have proposed to her, and if she would've said yes. He thought about her way too much for his own good. Nine years after everything had happened, she was still in his heart, her presence slowly killing him.

"Maybe you would have had kids… Maybe we would have married. Maybe we would have kids together. We'll never know." He mumbled, the words voicing his deepest thoughts with an ease that unsettled him. "I guess I should be going now." He said after a few seconds of stunned silence on her side, getting on his feet.

"Yeah, I guess…" Jenny nodded but didn't look about to get up and walk him to the door, making him worry all over again.

"You okay, Jen?" His body looked tense as his eyes searched her for any sign of discomfort, worry seeping through him.

"I will be." She sighed, her eyes moving imperceptibly to glance at the stairs leading to her bedroom. She wasn't going to be able to climb the stairs on her own tonight, she would have to spend the night in the study once again. But with the little amount of sleep she was able to get at night, it didn't matter anyway.

Gibbs' eyes followed hers in their quick, imperceptible movement, and realization dawned on his face, "The stairs?" He asked, more for delicacy than seeking for a real answer.

She looked at him and didn't say anything; she knew he didn't need it anyway.

I just want you closer,
Is that alright?
Baby let's get closer tonight

"Okay, then…" He growled, and stepped closer to her. For a fleeting moment she thought he was going to kiss her goodnight and leave. Before his arms wrapped around her body, lifting her up and causing her to squeal.

"Jethro! What are you doing?!" Jenny held onto his shoulders with her arm as he shifted her weight in his arms and walked out of the study to start climbing up the stairs.

"You're not going to spend the night in the study." He said as an explanation, kicking the door to her bedroom open, and carrying her inside. He kept to himself his worries about how fragile and thin her body felt, or how little she weighed. It all led to the illness she didn't want to talk about, and he honestly didn't want to think about it.

He lay her down on the bed and looked at her, "You need anything?" He whispered, looking into her eyes.

She swallowed hard, looking back at him. She needed him, to stay with her. But what right did she have to ask that of him? She broke his heart once, and was going to break it again if they only got closer. There was no future for them, for her. She was doomed, her life could end any day, and yet all she wanted right now was for him to hold her. She wanted him next to her, she wanted to feel safe in his arms and forget about the future, forget about the illness, forget about Svetlana.

Everything would be out of her mind, if only for a while, if she just could get the damn words out of her mouth. But she didn't feel it was the sensible thing to do.

"Well, then I'll go." He took her silence for a negative answer to his question and turned around to leave, even though his heart ached at the idea of leaving her alone. He wondered how much time she had left, if she had any time left at all. The thought of not being able to see her anymore, after she had walked back into his life, was enough to break his heart all over again. He wanted to spend as much time as he could with her, wanted to make her life better every single day she had left.

But he wasn't going to impose on her, if she wanted him gone, he would go.

"'Night, Jen." He stopped on the doorframe for a second and looked back at her, sitting on the edge of the bed with her head hung down, her hands crumpling the comforter nervously, and he felt the fierce urge to step up to her and lift her head, to look once more into her mesmerizing green eyes. Instead he just turned again to go, and was almost out of her bedroom when he heard the broken, quiet sound of her voice.


Grant my last request,
And just let me hold you.
Don't shrug your shoulders,
Lay down beside me.
Sure I can accept that we're going nowhere,
But one last time let's go there,
Lay down beside me

For a moment he wondered if his mind was playing tricks on him, he stopped dead in his tracks and didn't turn around, waiting for a sign that confirmed that what he heard was real.

"Stay. Please."

Her voice cut through him like a knife, and he turned around slowly, his eyes locking with hers as she stared at him with a pleading look he had never seen before. For a moment she wasn't the strong Jen who was always in control, she was just Jenny. The fragile girl inside the woman, the one who would scream when she saw a spider in the apartment they used to live in together, the one who would cry into his chest after her first kill. She was his Jenny all over again, and he just wanted to wrap his arms around her and make love to her like he did all those times in the past.

Without a word, Gibbs walked back to her and lifted her chin, his eyes coaxing her into telling him just what she wanted him to do.

"Just stay with me tonight. One last night with you, it's all I ask." She whispered quietly, looking into his eyes until it was almost unbearable to hold his gaze.

He sat next to her on the bed and moved a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her pale face blushing slightly as he cupped her cheek in his hand.

She leaned into his touch, her eyes fluttering closed as the moment overwhelmed her, and she could sense his movement even before she felt his lips press on hers in a soft, tentative kiss.

The kind of kiss that held a thousand promises of love, and passion, and slow, sensual surrender. And she wanted that, all of that. She didn't only want the promises, she wanted everything he was willing to give, every bit of strength she could take from him to face the near future she dreaded.

Most of all, she wanted to be able to tell him everything right here, right now. But she knew she'd have to wait. She knew her letter would have to do the talking for her, it was the only way she could explain to him what she was doing and why. She didn't want him to try and stop her, she didn't want him to act like a hero once again and risk his life for her mistake.

She lay back on the bed and brought him down with her, deepening the kiss. Because if she was granted one last night on this Earth, all she wanted was to spend it in the arms of the man she loved.

Oh, I've found, that I'm bound
To wander down that one way road.
And I realise all about your lies
But I'm no wiser than the fool I was before.

The morning sun was shining through the curtains into the quiet bedroom when Leroy Jethro Gibbs woke up slowly, his eyes surveying the unfamiliar setting. He instinctively reached out to the other side of the bed, not really surprised to find it empty, but unsettled when he found it cold.

He wasn't expecting Jenny to be next to him to greet him with a kiss when he woke up, what happened last night was far too complicated for them to easily fall into a comfortable morning-after tenderness. But the side of the bed Jenny had previously occupied was too cold, it meant she had gotten up at least two hours before. And given how it was now only half-past seven, it worried him that she had gotten out of bed at 5.30 am.

No sounds echoed in the empty house as he sat up straight and looked around, his eyes falling upon a small, light blue envelope sitting on Jenny's pillow.

There was no name on it, but he didn't need to see his name to know he was supposed to read the letter.

Reaching out, he took the envelope and quickly pulled out the folded letter; a single sheet of paper covered in Jenny's elegant handwriting.

He forced back the need to swallow the lump that was slowly forming in his throat as he started to read silently, "Dear Jethro, by the time you read this, there is a chance you will never see me again, and I'm thankful for that," he paused, his hands tightening on the letter, crumpling the paper as he looked up, taking a deep breath.

His eyes ran quickly over her words, taking in the way she seemed to have accepted her disease, "…there is no cure, and the end will not come easily, according to Ducky. I am willing to deal with the pain and I know there's no future for me…" He swallowed hard, trying to find any indication as to where she could be right now. But all he found was another goodbye, right there between the lines.

"…When I asked about Paris last night, it was because I do think about it, more than I care to admit. And I regret my decision. Had I been wiser, had I seen what my ambitious eyes couldn't see, I would have followed you everywhere. But I made my decision, and you let me go. I thought it was better that way. God, was I wrong. Every day, for the past three years, I had to live with my regret and accept your bitterness, because I deserved it. But now it's time for me to go, once again…"

A powerful anger overwhelmed him as he read her words over and over. Anger at her, for leaving once again and making a decision that was his to make as well, just like she did nine years ago in Paris. She didn't stop and ask him what he wanted, she didn't know if he wanted to be close to her and help her through her illness. She just didn't want him to see her break, and that's all that mattered.

But he was angry with himself too, for letting her go again, for not being able to stop her and make her see that he wanted to be there for her, that he wasn't ready to let go and forget her.

Angry tears glistened in his eyes and he gritted his teeth as he looked down to the letter again, "…I made many mistakes in the past, and I know that sooner or later they would all come back to haunt me. I have some loose ends that I need to tie, and that needs to be done today, before it's too late. For me, but especially for you. I should have done this a long time ago, but back then I didn't think it was necessary. Back then I only thought it was an order, a mission that I wasn't able to accomplish. Now it's much more than that…"

His mind worked fast, processing what he read and trying to understand what exactly she was talking about, but nothing helpful came to his mind, nothing that could tell him where she was or what she was going to do.

Frustrated, he kept on reading, memorizing every word. A part of him wanted to rip that letter apart, wanted to forget all about it and just start his day like nothing ever happened, like he never found that letter on Jenny's pillow. But another part of him wasn't ready to let go. Not yet, not when the paper still smelled like her, not when he was still in her bed, reading the words he would never hear her say.

"I love you. Jenny."

I love you. He had never told her those three words, but God knows they were on his mind so many times when he was with her. He would never admit it, but with her he felt a connection that was so much more than just sex, so much more than a simple relationship. He loved her, yet he had never found the way to tell her that. He trusted her to see his love in every single thing he did, and maybe she had. Maybe that's why she left him in Paris and was leaving him again now. Nine years ago perhaps she wasn't ready, she had other things to do and falling in love wasn't on her list. But today, today he wasn't going to let her go so easily.

With his fingers still tightly wrapped around Jenny's letter, he reached for his phone and dialled a familiar number.

The person answered on the third ring.

"McGee, I need you to triangulate Director Shepard's phone."

The warehouse was dark and dusty, and thankfully empty when Jenny got there. She left her car far enough, but not too far, just in case she needed to make a quick run to it. After she quickly cleared every corner of the small warehouse, she sighed in relief, glad to have gotten there first. She had been able to survey the setting and knew now all the hiding places, although she hoped she wouldn't need any of them.

It was going to be fast, either she was the one to shoot first, or she was the one who got shot. She didn't want any conversation between them, as soon as Svetlana walked into the warehouse, she was going to shoot.

"She's in a warehouse just out of town, boss." McGee read the information on the screen and gave the address to Gibbs. "You need backup, boss?"

"Not yet, McGee. But tell Tony and Ziva to keep ready. I'll call you if I need cover." Gibbs hung up and got dressed as fast as he could, every second important to stop the madness Jenny had put herself into.

The sound of a car door slammed reached her ears, and Jenny glanced at her watch. Perfect timing, not a minute late.

She swallowed hard and tightened her grip on her gun, moving to the spot she had identified as the best to fire the first shot.

She heard footsteps approaching the warehouse and her heart skipped a beat as she counted them. Too many for just one person. Different kinds of shoes stomping on the ground. At least four pairs of feet.

For a fleeting moment she wished she had talked with Jethro, she wished he were here with her for the backup she needed now. For a split second she wished she had been less naïve and hadn't trusted Svetlana's promise to be alone. But only for a second.

Because when the door was pulled open and the first two men stepped in, there was no time for thinking anymore. She only needed to pull the trigger and shoot first.

Once in the car, Gibbs sped up on the residential Georgetown street, snaking through the morning traffic with ease.

His mind was set on whatever Jenny might be up to as he drove fast to the address McGee had given him. He wanted to get there and drive Jen back to her house. Or maybe to his house. More than anything, he wanted her to be safe when he got there.

The first man fell after she shot him, but the second one managed to fire two shots before he fell next to his companion. A bullet hit her shoulder and another one ran right through her left arm, the pain taking her breath away. But there was no way she could rest now, as the other two men reached the entrance and she needed to act fast.

She fired another shot, and the third man fell, leaving room to the fourth shooter to fire his first shot, the bullet diving right into her hip. She dropped to her knees, all her breath leaving her for a few seconds, while she tried to drag her body to one of the hiding places she had located, the nearest to her. But the shooter aimed better this time, before he fired his weapon, the shock of pain in her stomach causing her to fall backwards.

With her sidearm still in hand, she rolled slightly onto her side and aimed, firing one last shot that made the last aggressor fall unconscious. Blood ran copiously from her stomach, and she tried to stop it by pressing her hand on the wound, but it was no use.

Her vision faltered as a blonde woman stepped into the warehouse, her gun trained on Jenny's bloody body.

"Tell me where he is and I will not shoot." The blonde said in a thick Russian accent, arming her weapon.

"You really…" Jenny paused as she felt the urge to cough and blood spilled from her mouth, "You really think I'd tell you?" She wiped the blood from her chin with the back of her hand, trying to raise her hand and point her gun at the woman.

"TELL ME WHERE HE IS!" Svetlana screamed, and before Jenny could even see the movement, she was crouching next to her, her hand in Jenny's hair, gripping it tightly and pulling her head up, "I want the man who killed Anatoly. WHERE IS HE?" She screamed again, the barrel of the gun pressed against Jenny's forehead, her finger on the trigger.

"Shoot." Was all Jenny said, a feeble whisper, filled with bitterness. "I am going to die anyway. Shoot. End my pain and have your revenge." Even though her eyes were feeling increasingly heavier, due to the loss of blood, she could see a flash of pain pass through Svetlana's eyes as they locked with hers.

"You are protecting him, you deserve to die. But it is not the revenge I want. You did not kill Anatoly."

"No, I did."

For a moment, Jenny wondered if Svetlana had shot her, if everything had finally ended. Because that was the only way she could ever hear Jethro's voice so close to her. She wondered if she had slipped into unconsciousness, if she was dreaming. But the pain in her body and the barrel of Svetlana's gun pressed against her forehead were all too real.

Her eyes left Svetlana's and she looked to the entrance of the warehouse, a small smile gracing her lips as her blurry eyes took in the sight of Jethro standing there with his gun trained on Svetlana.

Then everything went black.

The shot echoed through the warehouse and the woman was dead before she touched the ground.

Ignoring Svetlana's lifeless body, Gibbs ran to Jenny and knelt down next to her, taking in her wounds and quickly pulling out his phone.

A call was placed to make sure an ambulance was on its way, another call to let the team know what happened and summon them to the crime scene. Then his phone lay forgotten on the ground in a pool of Jenny's blood, as he pulled her close and tried to stop the bleeding from her stomach.


The quiet, weak whisper didn't miss his ears and he moved even closer to her, pressing harder on her belly while her crimson blood kept on slipping through his fingers, "I'm here, Jen… Ambulance is on its way, we're getting you to the hospital."

"Don't…" She coughed, more blood pouring from her lips, and her hand moved up to grasp his shirt.

"What, Jen?" He frowned, trying to understand the sentence she didn't get to finish. It felt as though all his rational thought had left him, as though he forgot everything about her and how good they had always been at reading each other's minds.

For a fleeting moment he wondered if this is what he would have felt, had he been with Shannon and Kelly when they were killed. If his heart would have ached then how it was aching now. Whether he would have fought his tears or let them pour down his face.

"I'm dying, Jethro…"

"No, Jen…the ambulance is getting here, they'll take care of you at the hospital." He absent-mindedly caressed her hair, staining it with her own blood as he leant in and pressed a kiss to her forehead, "You're gonna be alright…"

"I'm cold…" Her words were even quieter now, and her hand was losing its grip on his shirt. He didn't want that, he didn't want her to lose her last strength and fall into unconsciousness again. He needed her awake and conscious, needed her to talk.

"Talk to me, Jen. What happened here? Talk to me." He quickly divested himself of his jacket and laid it on her trembling body, caressing her hair again.

She shook her head in denial, and the movement of her head was feeble and barely visible, but he felt it under his hand, "Tired…" She whispered, coughing interrupting her again, "Just…hold me."

Her eyelids felt heavy as she looked up at him for a moment, her eyes begging for him to stop and just grant her last request.

He knew, as he looked into her misty green eyes, that she was too close to the end and he couldn't deny her what she wanted right now.

He looked deep into her eyes one last time, until she was too tired to hold his gaze anymore, and then he just pressed another kiss to her forehead, cradling her broken, bleeding body in his arms.

And he didn't try to fight his tears anymore.

He just let them fall, while Jenny exhaled her last breath.

Grant my last request.
ust let me hold you.