Among Fields of Barley
Disclaimer: Everything recognised as "NCIS" does not belong to me; I've just borrow it to fulfil my own fantasies. Title comes from the song 'Fields of Gold' by Eva Cassidy.
Warnings: SPOILERS for 'Till Death Do Us Part'
Summary: Five drabble moments after the credits rolled. [Post 'Till Death Do Us Part']
A/N Written as I was stuck on a delayed (and very full) train between Cologne and Trier in Germany. Not fun.
Leon watches as his building smolders. Firefighters are spraying the debris and there's a hole where the squadroom used to be. His car is a burnt-out shell that hisses smoke and smells of charred flesh. Blood drips from a cut on his head; he waves away the paramedic trying to get closer to his war wounds because that's what they are: war has come to the people of NCIS.
There's a scream in the distance; they're pulling survivors from the rubble. He bats away the paramedic again and wishes that Jenny Shepard hadn't died in an abandoned diner all those years ago.
He's just touched down at the base when the hanger's radio crackles, "... explosion ... Navy Yard ... unknown ... casualties ... terrorist ... chaos ..."
One of the officers who had accompanied him on the plane asks, "Yo, Palmer, isn't that your people?"
Jimmy doesn't respond.
"Dude." The officer shakes his head and scampers off, leaving Jimmy alone.
His cell rings.
It's Breena, saying tearfully, "Oh, Jimmy ..."
"I know," Jimmy croaks. "The explosion ... NCIS ..."
Breena sounds confused. "What? No, it's Ducky, Jim. He's...he's had a heart attack ..."
There's many thinks he should be thinking, but his scrambled mind fixates on, "I really should have eloped."
Her forgotten thesis research lays scattered on a library desk as she joins the other students crowding around the lone TV. There's fire and smoke and Sarah glances down at her cell. No new calls.
She thumbs a finger over the screen, willing it to ring. It remains dark and Sarah looks up, tears prickling the corner of her eyes.
"Hey, McGee," her friend Tara says comfortingly, placing an arm around her shoulders. "Big brother will be fine." She punches Sarah lightly on the arm. "Your parents breed 'em strong."
"I hope you're right," Sarah whispers.
The phone doesn't ring.
"Honey, you should take a break." Ed Slater rests a hand on his daughter's shoulder. A TV's on in the corner of the room, showing ZNN's coverage of the explosion.
Breena shakes her head as she holds Ducky's limp hand. "Jimmy would want me here."
Ed glances at the TV and he sees search and rescue pulling survivors from the debris. "That man of yours wouldn't want you becoming the next patient in a long line of casualties."
"I'm fine, dad," Breena says tiredly, turning back to focus on Ducky's face. "Besides," she says quietly, "he has no one else."
Ziva watches, arm in a sling, as the machines beep rhythmically. The white sheets are crisp and firm: hospital standard. She puts a tentative hand on his leg and squeezes lightly, wishing he was awake to feel it. But wishes are for children and McGee is too near death to respond. The door opens and Ziva tenses, hand slipping to her gun.
"Whoa, jumpy, it's just me," Tony says quietly.
Ziva's hand doesn't waver from her gun as she asks, "Are we ready?"
Tony's mouth twists painfully. He nods. "Locked and loaded, my Israeli ninja." He pauses.
"Let's do this."