An NCIS Fanfiction
Author's Note: Sorry this is ridiculously short, but the scene intrigued me. Also, I wanted to be the first to write a fic about "Extreme Prejudice". So, here we go!
Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS!
Gibbs could see Dearing's hand inching towards the pistol on the windowsill as he slipped the knife from his pocket. He had to move quickly now, or Dearing would get the upper hand.
Only one of them was leaving here alive. And as God as his witness, it was going to be him. Killing people was not easy. Even if that person deserved it. Even if every part of his heart and mind was screaming for it.
He lost a part of himself every time he ended a life. The death, the blood, the violence- it was part of his job. He knew that many men in the military worried that eventually, they would reach the point of no return. Gibbs wasn't worried about that. As long as you had something worth fighting for, you would never lose yourself completely.
Only one thing could drive him to kill for reasons other than self defense. His family. Shannon and Kelly's deaths had driven him to kill. Kate's death had driven him to kill.
Now, as he held the cold knife in his hand, faces flashed through his mind.
McGee, impaled in the abdomen, bleeding profusely, his eyes feverish and scared as Gibbs cupped his face. The faint "Uh-oh" he murmured, the blast making him nearly incoherent.
Ziva and Tony, covered in dust and sweat, trapped in an elevator for hours.
Abby, bruised and bloody. Damaged by the events of that day emotionally worse than anyone else.
Ducky, now unable to walk without a cane, his heart weak, his life nearly lost.
No kill was easy, but there were things worth killing for. People worth killing for. Dearing was right, in some ways, they were similar. But while Gibbs made only the guilty suffer for their crimes, Dearing punished the innocent.
His conversation with Tobias drifted to his thoughts. The conversation they had the night after the blast.
He hurt my family...
Gibbs saw now that Dearing had wrapped his hand around the grip of the gun, his finger inching toward the trigger. He swung around, the gun aimed directly at Gibbs. With lightning speed, his Marine reflexes coming into action, he slid forward. Before Dearing could even squeeze off one shot, the knife was embedded in Dearing's chest. For good measure, Gibbs twisted.
He locked his gaze with Harper Dearing's as the light faded from his eyes. The sad resignation of death swallowed him slowly, and he finally sagged in Gibbs' grip. He let him drop unceremoniously to the ground with a soft thump.
...No one hurts my family.
Author's Note: Thoughts? Please review!