OH MY GOD!! I LOVE THIS!

OH MY GOD!! I LOVE THIS! 😭❤️🥺

A beating

Your now ex boyfriend had beaten you, again. And this time, the bruises had blood appearing from them. You hadn’t told anyone about the abuse from him. Why would you? He had threatened your life.

“Enough is ENOUGH, Dylan!” You has shouted at him, his back turned to you. You were both in the middle of a heat fight. Finally, courage rising from you in the early hours of the morning. You pulled your gun from the holster, pointing it at him. “Enough is enough” you whisper. A sound caught his ear. The very sound of you cocking that gun. His face changed.

“Try me” you say tilting your head to the side, baring your teeth. You were covered in bruises and blood. Your eye black and purple. You had a faint idea of what the rest of your body looked like. “Get out... Get out... GET OUT!!!” You began to scream. Dylan quickly left the house. Slamming the door.

Back at NCIS HQ~

“DiNozzo, have you seen Stone?”

“Mmm, no boss” he barely looked from his computer. Gibbs threw his hands up and walked to Ducky who was speaking to Abby.

“Ducky, Stone?” He made a desperate attempt to find his daughter. Ducky shook his head, worrying Gibbs. The doctor was always the first to see Stone in the morning. She loved his stories. Jethro ran to Abbys lab.

“Gibbs?” She asked carefully.

“Stone? Have you seen her?” Abby shook her head. And watched as the man disappeared, curious as to what was going on.

When Gibbs returned to his desk his phone rang. The team spun in their chairs, awaiting to see who it was.

“I’ll be right there.” His face fell downward. “DiNozzo, go to Stones house and check up on her. Maybe she slept through her alarm.” DiNozzo nodded, a smile on his face. Oh, how he just LOVED Stone. He’s loved her for years.

Your House~

DiNozzo knocked on the door. Ready to be met with the ugly face of your boyfriend. Instead, he didn’t get a response. He listened. Listening closely, he heard crying. He burst through the door. Running to the source of the crying. To find you, on the floor, bleeding. Pathetically trying to clean up.

“Hey, hey, hey” he whispered to you. You fell into his arms, tears still streaming down your face. “Let’s get you cleaned up, yeah?” The Italian spike softly, stroking your hair sweetly. He stood from you and left you.

He returned a few minutes later with bandages, a rag, and a bowl of warm water. He lightly tugged at the hem of your shirt. As you stood you pulled off your bloody clothing. He hoisted you up onto the counter. Dipping the rag into the water.

“ Off the Florida Keys, there's a place called Kokomo” he sang lightly as he dabbed at your face, making sure he got all the spaces. “That's where you want to go to get away from it all

Bodies in the sand, tropical drink melting in your hand” a small smile appeared on your lips. This was one of your favourite songs, without a doubt.

“We'll be falling in love to the rhythm of a steel drum band

Down in Kokomo” he sang in almost a whisper as he began to dab low on your body, getting a sensitive area on your rib cage. As you hissed, and sucked air in through your teeth you sang:

“Aruba, Jamaica, oh I want to take you to

Bermuda, Bahama, come on pretty mama” you wanted so badly to push Tony away, but instead, you both finished the song.

Time Skip~

Gibbs looked at his daughter as Tony held onto her. A frown and lines scattered across his aged face. The heart wrench as he saw the bruises on her face.

“Baby girl” he dropped all he was doing and ran to you. Encasing you in a hug. Tears fell down each of your cheeks. “Let’s get you to Ducky” you nodded.

“Well, hello, Stone” Ducky said as you sat on the cold table in your Nike sports bra and sliding shorts. You gave a weak smile. He tapped your shoulder twice, you obediently laid back as Gibbs stood in the corner, hand over his mouth, speaking to Tony. They kept looking over at you frequently.

“What’s the damage?” Gibbs asked Ducky.

“A few cracked ribs, a few deep cuts, she’ll have a scar on her rib cage. But, other than that, Gibbs, she’s okay.” Ducky pat his shoulder. Gibbs stood in front of you. Legs spread, and his hands on his hips.

“Stone, what’s going on?” Gibbs asked. The rest of the team slowly gathering around. These are the people you’ve known for years.

“Daddy, he hits me.” You spoke softly. “He beats me, has sex, beats me more.”

“Oh, baby” Gibbs whispered wrapping you in a hug. “It’s okay, it’ll all be okay” you nodded, tears beginning to fall again. “Hey, lets go get him.”

Time skip~

You were all in front of his place of work. A SWAT team, and the NCIS, the best pair. You heard thrashing and yelling as Dylan was being taken. Passerby’s gathering around, employees exiting the building.

“Oh, i gonna fuckin kill ya now, Stone. I’m gonna bury your ass in the ground.” He kept talking as you turned to Gibbs.

“Has he been read his rights?”

“Yep.” You both turned to him still shouting and cursing.

“Hey, DiNozzo, careful now, she’s a slut” Dylan called. DiNozzo- who was standing next to you- ran to Dylan and began punching him. Gibbs ran to pull him off.

“Call her a slut again, and i won’t be so kind next time, Dylan” DiNozzo said, allowing himself to be pulled away.

“I’m gonna go home. Pack my stuff up, and hit an apartment.” You sag turning.

“You Can stay with me?” DiNozzo offered. I have a lot of space and not enough juman life to share it... rent free.” He smiled. You leapt into his arms, laughing. As he held you up, you stopped laughing, leaning down slowly.

“I- I love you, Tony DiNozzo” you whisper, before pressing your lips onto his.

“Umm hmm, i love you too!” He replies happily. Walking off in the sunset.

~The End~

This was so cute! I love it! ❤️

hi!! can i request an au based on the episode 12 from season 1, where gibbs is flirting with the red haired suspect, and the reader goes with him and she is super jealous and feels insecure cuz she thinks she isnt pretty enough for him??

Tags: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @madamsnape921 @specialagentastra @ncisfan @zetasaturno99

REDHEADS

“Y/N, you’re with me.”

You instantly grabbed your gear and followed your boss to the car. You were going to your suspect’s house to get more infos about the dead sailor.

The plan was one getting her distract while the other peeked around.

But the plan wasn’t your boss flirting with the suspect. Except that he totally did.

Well, she started it, and before you knew, they both disappeared.

You could hear flirting from the kitchen, it made you sick in your stomach. You hoped he wasn’t just playing along, but a part of you felt like he was. He was flirting back with her. Why wouldn’t he anyway? Besides the fact that she was suspect, she was absolutely stunning and a redhead nonetheless. You never stood a chance with him, right?

You tried to focus on what you had to do, but couldn’t help it. You had to listen, to know how far it was going. You discreetly took a peek so saw how close their bodies were. She grabbed the cup from his hands and made a show of just taking a sip.

You internally growled and went back to the living room. As you tried to be discreet, you tripped on a furniture and cursed. A second later, you saw Gibbs standing right in front of you. “You okay?”

“Yeah, fine. Can we go now?”

He nodded and said goodbye to the woman. You decided that you didn’t see the wink he sent her way.

The ride back to the office was dead silent. You didn’t say a word, not even about the case. You just wanted to crawl inside a hole and disappeared. God, you hated him.

“Y/N. Are you listening to me?” He called out as you got out of the car.

“What?”

“I just gave you orders. Did you hear them?”

“I know my job, Gibbs. You don’t have bark orders every step of the way.”

You never snapped at him before, but you were pissed. And sad. And jealous. This woman was incredible gorgeous. Of course, she caught his attention. When you looked at yourself in the mirror, it was obvious that he would never be attracted by you. Why would he?

You knew your behavior was unjustified, there was absolutely nothing going on between you and Gibbs. He never even showed any kind of interest in you. You just had a stupid crush on him, and you were making him pay for it.

Gibbs never expected you to talk to him like this. He was so stunned, he didn’t know what to say. He just watched you getting back inside the building.

When the case brought you back to the woman’s house, you tried to avoid it. You pretended that Abby needed your help, but her job was already done and everybody knew it. “Shut up and get inside the car, L/N!” Gibbs shouted.

Everyone, including you, looked up to Gibbs in disbelief. It wasn’t just about the words he used, it was about his tone. He ever sounded this angry, especially not with you. You stared at him for a moment, challenging. But you knew better, so you got in the car without a word.

The ride was extremely silent. And once you were there, you and the team did what you had to do. You didn’t say a word to Gibbs, not even look at him. And you left before everyone else that night.

Around 10pm, you were zapping on the tv when you heard knocks at your door. You looked at the peephole and saw your boss. You inhaled sharply before opening.

He immediately let himself in. “What the hell was that all about?” He barked at you.

“Nothin’,” you simply answered, going back exactly where you were before he arrived.

“Y/N.” He stayed where he was. He wanted explanations and you knew how stubborn the man was.

“Since when do you flirt with suspects, Gibbs?” You asked, wrapped under your blanket.

“A little flirt never hurt anyone.” You were obviously not going to move, so he decided to sit on the couch too.

“Sure,” you scoffed. “You can’t help it whenever you see a redhead, can you?”

He snorted at that comment. “That’s the problem? Me flirting with a beautiful redhead woman?”

“What would have happened if she wasn’t a suspect?” You asked, even though you were scared of the answer.

“You know when two people are attracted to each other—“ he started but stopped when you kicked him. That was the kind of thing you definitely didn’t want to hear.

“What does she have that I don’t?” You asked before you could stop yourself. You internally cursed and threw the blanket over your head. “Leave Gibbs. Please.” You said from under the fabric.

But he didn’t. Instead, Gibbs crawled under the blanket with you. He made his way between your body and the back of the couch. You couldn’t see his face, but you felt his breath on your skin. He was warm and strong. The oxygen was lacking.

“With her, I could just spend the night and leave in the morning. You— you’re like the forbidden fruit. And I’m scared I won’t ever get enough once I taste it—you.” You laughed at the words he chose, and curled your body a little more against his. “I didn’t mean it to sound dirty.”

“That’s fine. Everything’s fine,” he wrapped his arms around you and managed to kiss your cheek despite the darkness. You turned just enough for your lips to meet his. His kiss was extremely tender, you were melting under his touch. He quickly begged access with his tongue, which you fiercely granted.

You kept kissing under the blanket, until neither of you could breathe. Gibbs threw the fabric away and locked his piercing blue eyes into yours. “She’s nothing compared to you. And I’m done with redheads anyway.”

“Good. Cause I’m never letting you go.”

God did Gibbs hoped you would keep that promise.

Risk

Paring: McGee x sister!reader

13 days until y/n was home. Home with the team. Home on American soil.

“Timothy McGee?” You looked up to see a man in a marine uniform standing before you.

“Yes?” You questioned.

“The Maine Corps regrets to inform you that your sister, Y/n McGee was killed in action on April 25.”

“No.” You whispered. You felt a tear stream down your cheek.

“You okay Tim?” Tony asked. You know he cared when he didn’t even call you a nickname.

“I remember the day she told me she wanted to be a Marine. Almost as if it was yesterday.”

——————————————————————————

“Don’t do it.” You said.

“What do you mean ‘don’t do it.’? Tim, I wanna serve my country and your telling me not too?”

“Y/n, your my baby sister. I don’t want you to get hurt, I don’t wanna hear the day you won’t be coming back home.”

——————————————————————————

Ziva walked up to you, grabbing your wrist, pulling you to the elevator. You hadn’t bothered to look up from your desk one you started to cry. Once she stopped the elevator you looked up her. Tears still running down her cheeks.

“McGee. Y/n wanted to tell you this when she got back from her deployment but, uhm, since she won’t be, I’ll, uhm, do it for her. Y/n she’s gay, her and I are- were- dating.”

“Wow. Uhm, how long?”

“About three years. I was, gonna propose a week after her return.” She pulled the engagement ring out of her pocket. Tears continued to stream down her face. “I had it engraved with her initials, not y/f/i.M. but y/f/i.D.” She ran her finger over the engraving.

Three months later

Reader’s Perspective

I was finally coming home. You had been tortured and brutally beaten, but you were finally coming home. You went off to fight a battle in Afghanistan when you disappeared shortly before many I.E.D.’s went off leaving many charred and unidentifiable bodies. Since you were nowhere to be found. You were assumed to be one of those bodies. You were found by another squad, and they rescued you. Walking into the squad room you saw the orange walls you never thought you’d miss so much.

“Hi guys.” You said, standing between Tony and Ziva’s desk. McGee looked up from his desk.

“Y/n?!” He shouted. You nodded as you saw the other agents glance up shocked. Tim and Ziva walked over, hugging you, both at the same time, cautious of your bruises. Once Tim pulled away, Ziva pulled you into a kiss. At first you were startled but you quickly fell into the kiss. Her lips soft, and sweet crashing against yours. Once you pulled away from the kiss you smiled and then said,

“You realize you did that in front of the entire team? Including my brother?”

“Y/n he knows. He’s known, when we thought you were dead, I told him. You said that you were going to when you got back from your deployment so I wanted to honor that.” You jumped as Tony hugged you from behind.

“Glad to have you back, y/n.”

“It’s good to be back.” You said.

“Y/n, listen, I didn’t want to do this here but I can’t wait. I waited and I thought I lost you. So, this may not have been my exact plan but I still wanna do this.” Ziva said, she walked over to her desk and pulled out a red velvet box from one of the drawers. She walked over to you and got down on one knee.

“What are you doing?” You asked, knowing the answer.

“Y/n I’ve loved you for years. Way longer than we’ve been dating. After three years, I was finally ready to propose. I went and got this ring, just for you before your deployment but I- I hesitated. Then you deployed and then I got news that you died. But you came back and I just knew I couldn’t waist anymore time. Y/n, will you marry me?”

“Yes! Yes! Ziva David, don’t you ever hesitate again.” You said as she slipped the ring on your finger. Once the chaos was over, Gibbs walked over and pulled you into a hug. Refusing to let go of you, you smiled.

You were finally home

——————————————————————————

Does anyone want me to add them to my tag list for all my ncis work or just for characters? I write for Tony, McGee, Ziva, Ellie, and Gibbs. I struggle with the last three so there isn’t as many but I try

Can you please do a Ziva x non binary or fem reader? I really like your writing style and there’s not enough work for her in my opinion thanks!

Gotcha

Paring: Ziva x reader

Warning: Swearing

Note: I’ve never written for non binary and I would need to do more research on non binary as a whole to write it. I’m gonna do something that I’m more familiar with (female reader- all my work is that unless you request a non binary. I don’t do male) And, you are my first ask! 🥳

Laser tag. Something both you and Ziva were fond of because it was childish and well, a lot of relationship was childish. Except when you were doing the horizontal salsa, or anything else that really needed you both to be serious. You were red, and Ziva was blue. You knew Ziva was gonna target you, she’s a ninja and if anything she’s going for you and you only. You walked into and corner and peered around the wall, checking or Ziva. Suddenly you were shoved into a corner. It was Ziva. Shit. She pulled you into a kiss, a quick and soft kiss. Once she pulled away she shot you.

“You fucker. Run.” You said with a smirk. She chuckled before disappearing into the laser tag set.

——————————————————————————

Sorry it’s so short, you didn’t give me an idea of what to do, so I had to come up with something. If you have more ideas, send me an ask, I’ll gladly write more! :D

Tags: @nerdyfangirl67

*Peter and Tony drawing*

Tony: What did you draw?

Peter: A stick.

Tony: A stick?

Peter: a stick from the park THAT YOU PROMISDE TO TAKE ME TODAY

Tony: …

This is sooo good! ❤️ I can’t wait for part two!

Taken & Found - 1

Request 1: Hey there! I'd really like to see a comforting Gibbs after the reader was kidnapped?

Request 2: Could ya do something with the reader being kidnapped and tortured in captivity for a long time and after she was rescued and came back Gibbs tries to get her to talk about what happened to her so he can figure out how to help/comfort her?

Request 3: May I request something with Gibbs and scared reader? Maybe they’re like trapped somewhere or she’s going under for a surgery? You can decide reader’s fate!

This is a two-part fic. This part is basically full angst, focused on Gibbs and the comforting, healing focus on Reader will come in the second part. I wanted to separate both.

Pairing: Gibbs x Reader

TW: angst, kidnapping, mention of suicide, depression, slight alcoholism

Words count: 3k

Tags: @hotch-meeeeeuppppp @madamsnape921 @specialagentastra @ncisfan @zetasaturno99

She was supposed to be thirty-five years old today.

And it was one of those very rare days Gibbs didn’t want to get out of bed.

He spent the night working on his boat in the basement, thinking about what his life would be if anything had happened. But he would never know, would he? No matter how bad he wished Shannon and Kelly weren’t dead, how bad he wished you were here with him… all of this happened. And he found himself alone in his basement.

Well, not entirely alone. He had a bottle of bourbon to keep him company, and Fraser, an old black labrador. Your old black lab. Your furry baby, as you used to say.

You rescued it when it was just a puppy, a couple of years before you joined NCIS. So, Gibbs has always known you with this loving thing. At some point, you would even take him to the office and Fraser’s favorite spot was under Gibbs’s desk.

Gibbs never wanted to get attached to the dog. Fraser wasn’t his, it was yours and he respected that. But somehow, you both made your way to his heart.

But only Fraser was still here.

Taking a sip of bourbon directly out of the bottle, his eyes landed on your pet, curled up in the armchair Gibbs put here years ago after you made a remark. “You know, you should put something down here. An armchair or something for people who visit.” You said, while caressing the wood with your fingertips. God did he wish he was the boat at this very moment.

“People who visit never stick around.” He answered, sternly.

“I stick around,” you grinned.

Indeed, you did stick around. A lot. Probably too much.

Would’ve saved him the heartbreak if you didn’t.

A week later, an armchair was down his basement.

With the bottle still in his hand, Gibbs sat next to Fraser and started to toy the blankie. Well, technically, it was not a blankie. It was a tee-shirt. One of yours. The one you left at his house, two years ago.

The top, representing one of your favorite bands, was destroyed now. Fraser chewed it, curled against it nonstop for two years, it was now just some cotton with dog’s hair on it. It didn’t have your smell anymore, it had Fraser’s, but Gibbs never had the strength to take it away from the dog to wash it.

He never had the strength to do much after you disappeared.

When it was clear to the team that you had been taken, kidnapped, abducted or whatever, Gibbs searched for you for weeks, probably mouths. He still does, to be honest, just not 24/7 anymore.

The first weeks, he asked - or actually, ordered - Abby to take care of Fraser. Gibbs was spending all of his time away, looking for you, he couldn’t take care of someone - well, a living thing. The lab tech happily obliged, but Fraser’s health quickly deteriorated. The dog wasn’t eating, or drinking. All he did was lay on the floor, waiting for his mum to come back.

“What, Abby? I don’t—“ not a welcoming way to answer the phone but she didn’t hold it against him.

“I know you’re busy, Gibbs, but I’m taking Fraser to the vet. He’s not okay at all.”

Abby heard her boss taking a deep breath. “Which vet? I’ll be here as soon as I can.”

The dog was clearly letting himself die. Without you, he didn’t see the point of living and Gibbs understood that. If he told anyone what he did after he got Fraser from the vet, they would think he was crazy. Maybe he was, but he didn’t care at this point. He didn’t care about anything, anymore.

Fraser was depressed and there was nothing the vet could do about it. So, they let Gibbs take him home.

And he took him home. His real home; your apartment. Fraser immediately lay on your bed and cried. “You’re reading my mind, Fra.” Gibbs muttered to himself, while preparing a bowl for the pet.

Gibbs had been in your room a few times, but he never paid attention to your stuff. All his attention was on you and your body when it happened. But as he was sitting on the floor, his back against your bed, he allowed himself to take a look around. It was very much you. Minimalist with your touch. He saw your guitar, your messy wardrobe, candles and some Polaroid pictures of people you love. Gibbs never paid attention to those pictures until this moment and one grabbed his attention.

A picture of him. You could see him from afar, aiming to throw a ball. He remembered that night but he never knew you took a picture.

Ziva had invited him to throw a few balls on a baseball field. It was a nice summer night and they had just saved many people from getting blown up. It was also the first night you kissed him. In his basement, you teased him like you always did and ended up with your lips on his. He wasn’t ready for it at that moment, and when he realised what had happened, you were already gone.

Gibbs held the picture in his hand and before sitting back exactly where he was, he went to the kitchen, grabbed what he had prepared and came back.

Fraser was still laying on your bed, his face on your pillow. Gibbs carried him in his arms, the labrador didn’t even fight back or anything. He put him in front of the bowl and Gibbs sat across. “You wanna die, Fra, huh?” The dog looked at him with horrifying sadness in his eyes. “You and me both, buddy. So let’s do this.”

Gibbs put the picture next to the bowl and grabbed his gun and the bottle of whiskey. “I know you know that salmon. Eat it, choke, and when you take your last breath, I’ll pull the trigger.” He said, pressing the gun against his temple.

Fraser is deadly allergic to salmon. When he was a few months old, you fed him some and the reaction was almost instantaneous. Luckily, you took him to the vet right on time for them to save him. “Salmon is banned from the house.” you said on the ride home.

The dog didn’t move one bit. With his face still resting on the floor, he kept looking at the man. Gibbs swore he saw tears in the damn dog’s eyes. “So? Whatcha waiting for? Eat it. It’s good salmon, trust me.” He said, drinking the brown liquor.

If Fraser could talk, he would’ve told him; ‘I may let myself die, but you’re damn crazy.’ Which would’ve been fair.

Gibbs was going crazy. It was the last straw. The last punch in the guts he could take. He had reached his limit.

He was finally letting himself love again and get loved in return. And someone took that away from him. All over again.

He got it, the universe hates him for some reasons. Why would he keep pushing it then?

Gibbs stayed up all night, drinking and waiting for Fraser to eat the fish and die. So he could pull the trigger and end this once and for all.

But Fra never did. Instead, around 5am, the dog went to grab something from the bathroom and put it on Gibbs’ lap. It was one of his hoodies. A hoodie you stole from him. Gibbs buried his nose in it and he could smell you. For the first time in many years, he let himself cry. He cried like a fucking baby, under the watch of your fucking dog.

At some point, he felt that Fraser was trying to nudge his nose in the hoodie too. “We’ll find her, Fra. We have to.”

If Gibbs had killed himself, along with Fraser, it would’ve meant you were gone forever. Because eventually, people would’ve stopped looking for you. They would’ve stopped thinking about you and just pretended you’re dead.

But Gibbs knew you weren’t dead. He knew it deep inside him. Because if you were dead, Fraser would’ve eaten the salmon and he would’ve pulled the trigger.

Laying in his bed, Gibbs turned on his side and found himself face to face with Fraser. The dog was sleeping and snoring. That’s what he does most of his time. Fra was still depressed, but he didn’t let himself die anymore. He eats and drinks the bare minimum. He doesn’t play anymore though. He used to be a happy, playful and loving dog. Now he’s just laying around, waiting for you to come back.

Just like Gibbs.

They both lost weight. Gibbs didn’t even bother to look at himself in the mirror anymore. He hadn’t been to the hairdresser in a while. His hair was longer than it has never been, and his beard was prominent now. You would probably freak out if you saw him like this. You would order him to shave and get his marine haircut back. You would feed him - and Fraser - until they are full. He just wished you were here.

He reached for Fraser’s head and pet him for a moment. “The boat is done and I can’t even offer it to her.” He sadly whispered. It’s been his plan a long time before you were gone. Building a boat after and for you. Now it was your thirty-fifth birthday, the boat was fucking done but he coudn’t teach you how to operate it like he promised.

For the next two weeks, Gibbs would stay in the basement, and stare at the finished product. There was nothing left to do on it, so he just sat behind the wheel, files on his lap and bourdon in one hand. His use of alcohol has never been higher than it is now. You’d scold him if you knew.

Maybe he’s self-destructing, hoping you’d show up and make everything right again. It was stupid, since you didn’t leave on your own. You were taken. Someone took you, and god knows what they were doing to you. This awoke a rage he never knew he had. He’d kill that - or those - person with his bare hands if he ever has a chance.

A month after your birthday, Gibbs was basically falling asleep in his boat, relatively drunk. Fraser was on his lap - he doesn’t realise he’s not a puppy anymore - when the dog shot his head up. “Easy, that’s just Fornell.” Gibbs mumbled, recognizing his friend’s footsteps.

“My two favorite depressed boys.” Tobias greeted them. He gently patted Fraser’s head and looked at his friend. “I need you to sober up, Gibbs. We need to talk about something important.”

“Just say whatever you have to say. I’m not that drunk.”

“Yeah, right.” Tobias grabbed the bottle from Gibbs’s hand and checked how empty it was. But Tobias knew only one thing would make him react, so he went straight to the point. “It’s about Y/N, Gibbs. Get your ass—“

Before the FBI agent could finish his sentence, Gibbs had practically thrown Fraser away. The poor dog looked at him with hurt in his eyes. It was only then that Gibbs saw the file his friend was holding against his chest. He didn’t think twice and tore it out of his grip. Tobias let him.

There wasn’t much in the file, just a picture.

A picture of you.

You looked different, thinner, your hair was shorter and in a completely different color. You looked like a homeless woman.

Gibbs’s jaw dropped. His head was spinning so fast, he needed to sit again. He touched the picture with his fingertips so softly, hoping it was like touching you. A lot of things were going through his mind at this moment, he actually drew a blank. “It was taken two days ago. In Wyoming.”

Gibbs didn’t need more.

Tobias had everything planned before he showed up at Gibbs’s place. One of the FBI private planes was waiting for them, in order to take them off to Wyoming. He had asked Emily if she could dogsit Fraser for a few days, and he even called Vance to let him know he was taking Gibbs with him.

In the plane, he told Gibbs how he came across this picture and all of the info he had, which wasn’t much to be honest. As far as they knew, you were in one city of Wyoming two days ago. Maybe you were gone by now.

But all Gibbs could focus on was that picture. He didn’t take his eyes off it since he opened the file. This was you. You were alive. Whatever happened, whatever the reasons you found yourself here, you were fucking alive.

Tobias looked at his friend. He’ll spend the rest of his life pretending he didn’t see the tear rolling down his cheek. “How you feeling?” He tentatively asked.

“I—I don’t know. It’s a lot.”

“She’s alive. We know it. We’ll find her.”

“I’ve always known she was alive.”

No doubt he did.

It was hard for Tobias to tame Gibbs after they landed. The agent was already barking orders at everybody and anybody, he was ready to organize a fucking manhunt to find you. But the first place they went was where the picture was taken. Gibbs spent hours in the area, while Tobias went to see the local cops. When he tried to check on Gibbs, the man never answered.

In the picture, you were looking at the surveillance camera. You knew you were being watched. You did it on purpose, Gibbs was sure of it. You must have left a clue somewhere around.

You looked scared, someone must have been following you. But he knew from what Tobias said; there wasn’t much more on the video. You were briefly seen and then disappeared, again. “Talk to me, Y/N.” Gibbs thought to himself while looking around.

It was only around noon that it hit him. He finally saw it.

Right there on the graffiti wall.

“Born to lose, live to win.”

Your handwriting. This sentence. Your tattoo.

You must have written this to let him know he should look at this wall. So he did. He studied those graffitis for a long moment, until he saw what he needed to see.

Numbers. GPS coordinates.

He called McGee, not paying attention to the missed calls he had. He gave him the coordinates and Tim gave him an address.

Was that it? The nightmare was finally over? He would go to this address, find you and take you home. Finally.

Fucking finally.

He felt dizzy while running to the address. It wasn’t that far away, and there was no way he’d wait for Fornell or a cab. So, he jogged to this fucking house. When he was standing in front of it, his heart was beating so fast, he thought it would stop.

But he couldn’t die now. He would die after he found you but not now.

He didn’t care about procedures or anything. He grabbed his gun, and let himself in the house by knocking out the door. A man was sitting there, on the couch.

The house was pure filth. The man seemed to be a bit younger than him, and he looked like a psychopath. Which he is, considering he took you.

The man was standing in his living room, his hands up as Gibbs pointed the gun at him. In a flash, Gibbs was standing right in front of the man, the gun pressed against his throat. The man looked scared, he didn’t even try to fight. “What the hell, man? Who are you? What do—“

“Shut your mouth. Where is she?” Gibbs asked, suppressing the urge to beat the man to death right now. That would come later. He needed to find you first.

“Who? There’s no—“

Gibbs’s knee hit him right in his crotch and that bastard fell on the floor. “You’re living the final hour of your life, you better tell me where the hell is Y/N, before I watch life leaving your fucking eyes.”

“I—I—“

Seeing his hesitation, Gibbs punched him. “Where?!” He yelled, but the man stayed silent. “Fine.”

Gibbs grabbed the guy by his collar to put him back up. He was physically impressive, but the adrenaline running through Gibbs’s veins gave him incredible strength. He threw him on the first chair he saw and immediately cuffed him to it. He punched him once more, harder this time.

His nose and lips were bloody, but of course it wasn’t enough. Gibbs fought a lot in his life. To defend himself or to arrest someone, but never, had he been filled with that much rage and anger. He didn’t think twice before his boot hit the man directly in his face, knocking him unconscious. He stared as the man fell on the floor along with the chair he was cuffed to.

He needed to find you. Right now.

No need to be a federal agent to know a psychopath would hold you captive somewhere private.

So he immediately looked for a basement, which he quickly found and he saw the door.

A reinforced door with quite a few locks. Keys. He needed keys that he found in the man’s pocket. Although he was still laying on the floor, fighting to regain consciousness, Gibbs kicked him again, in the stomach this time. He wasn’t holding back his strength one bit. He will kill him anyway.

As he was unlocking the door, his hands were shaking like they never did before. His heart was still pounding in his chest. He still felt dizzy.

He was sure his heart actually stopped when he spotted you on the one-person bed. You were holding your knees against your chest. It was dark, but it was you. You were there, a few feet in front of him. He didn’t even know what to do.

But you did.

When you realised who was standing in front of you, you weakly jumped off the bed and rushed into his arms.

The only thing that kept you alive all this time; knowing that he would find you.

You felt even smaller than you already were. With your arms wrapped around his waist, your face buried in his chest, Gibbs felt you crying.

He slowly wrapped his arms around you, afraid it wasn’t real. Afraid he may hurt you. Afraid you would disappear again. “You found me.” he heard you whispering.

That he did.