Journey Series: Ellick

If You Turn Enough Corners, You'll End Up Where You Started

He had turned too many corners, now back in the same place, he had been successfully avoiding for years. He willingly admitted it. Or maybe it was just the alcohol talking. He had had issues with alcohol consumption in the past, and he had been on top of it. Well, but things were different now. He took his umpteenth shot of the night. It was Friday, thank goodness. Unless something big came in, they were off over the weekend. He was in way too deep to find his way home. He was not stupid. Even if he managed to find his bike, he would crash it in the parking lot most likely, and as a federal officer, a DUI was an absolute NO. He stumbled out into the bitterly cold night air. Who could he call? Not McGee. He would come, no questions asked, and get him home. The man was a good friend, but he had kids and a wife. He wasn't going to call him out to some random bar in the middle of the night. He didn't want to call Ellie. She would come, no doubt. She would not say anything, or maybe say plenty, but she would sober him right up with that expression of intense disappointment. He'd apologize again, or try at least, and she would interrupt with a half-hearted I know. That left one person. Gibbs.

He'd probably be up anyway. Maybe he would come, maybe he wouldn't. Gibbs would probably ream him, rip him a new one, just like after that one night with Palmer. But he didn't care. Maybe he wanted Gibbs, someone to just be mad at him, not sorry for him. He fumbled with his phone until he finally managed to click on the call function under Gibb's contact info. It rang and rang and rang, till Gibbs finally picked up and answered with his customary, "Yeah, Gibbs." "Hi Gibbs," he slurred. "Torres, what the hell?" Gibb's tone had switched to red alert mode. "I'm not in jail, Gibbs" he joked, "I would have called someone else if I was." "Where are you," Gibbs asked. "Oh yeah," he said, "that's why I called you. Can you come to get me?" "Well Torres, to do that, I have to know where you are," Gibbs said dryly. Torres chuckled and squinted at the brilliant neon lights of the bar's name. "Damn," he muttered, "why are the signs so bright? Like how can someone-" "Torres!" Gibbs yelled, "focus! Where are you?" Finally, he said, "Uh, La Medicina Bar." Gibbs scoffed and muttered something about "the wrong medicine." Then static occupied the sound waves over the line. He thought maybe Gibbs had hung up and he was just imagining the sound until Gibbs's voice broke through. "Be there in ten minutes Torres."

Nine minutes later, Gibbs pulled into the parking lot.