The Man That Got Away

Three

Leroy Jethro Gibbs didn't show his emotions. He controlled them; he concealed them carefully. They were buried deep within in him until something triggered them to the surface. He trained himself to be stoic. It was second nature to him, but when his emotions exploded to the surface, the feelings overwhelmed him...lumped in his throat and made his chest burn. Whatever room he was in became smaller, and he felt panic, terror, and dread. He despised losing control. He could handle physical scars better than the emotional ones. Jethro had never anticipated his brother would die first. He was mad as hell about it. Nathan deserved to live a long life and grow old with his wife. Jethro was the one with a death wish. He'd wished for death ever since he lost Shannon and Kelly yet he kept on living.

He felt guilty. Pure, true, unadulterated guilt for living. Nathan wouldn't see his children grow into adults; it would be Jethro. He'd be the one to give Joseph the talk about women. Maybe he'd strongly suggest that the boy stay away from redheads. A redhead was always the undoing of a Gibbs male. He'd be the one to walk Emmaline down the aisle on her wedding day. Jethro didn't deserve it. At all. He'd had a family, and it was torn away from him in the blink of an eye. He wasn't a man that merited second chances. He had been a father once. That was enough for him. He had never wanted children after Kelly. Sadly, he thought he needed a wife after Shannon. All disasters. No one was Shannon. Part of him didn't want to play father to his brother's two kids. What kind of older brother was he? A lousy one. He hadn't driven over to Georgetown to see how his niece and nephew were either. He was being a lousy uncle too.

Jethro shook his head and opened the refrigerator door, leaning in and grabbing a bottle. He popped open the bottle of beer and guzzled. He walked to the fireplace, carrying a plate heavy with a T-bone steak. He tossed the meat onto the grill in the fireplace and sat down. His eyes glanced over to the photo of him, his father, and his brother. A smirk graced his lips as he thought about a night years ago.

He grabbed the tongs and turned the steak over, pouring what was left of his beer onto it. He heard tires screech in front of the house. He looked behind him and saw the black BMW sedan. Nathan. His brother had nearly hit his truck. What the hell was wrong with him? Jethro moved to get up and find out if his brother had lost his mind or was drunk.

The younger Gibbs stormed into the house. He slammed the door behind him.

"Hey Nate. Wanna beer?" he asked as he sat back down, popping open another bottle. Maybe his brother had a bad day. Nathan was still in his suit and tie. Maybe he'd lost a case. He liked to win and put the bad guy behind bars. That was a trait the brothers shared.

"No," Nathan answered tightly. He clenched his fists. His eyes narrowed as he watched his older brother casually sip a beer and act like he hadn't slept with Jenny.

Gibbs glanced over his shoulder at his brother. Nathan didn't turn down a beer if he came over to get a difficult day out of his system. It was something else.

"You almost hit my truck, Nate. You get in a fight with Jen?"

He said her name and didn't realize he had ignited a bomb. Nathan lunged at his brother, hitting him hard and knocking him off the ottoman. Jethro was stunned. The back of his head hit the wooden floor hard. He pushed Nathan off him and jumped to his feet. "Nate," he growled. "What the hell's the matter with you?"

Nathan stared at his older brother as he caught his breath. He'd always looked up to his big brother. Jethro was six years older than him. "You slept with my wife! You slept with Jenny!"

"Yeah," Jethro answered, tasting blood from his lip. Why lie? Nathan knew.

He'd been hoping it wasn't true. In his heart, he knew it was true. Jenny's right eye hadn't twitched when she'd told him; it was his wife's signal if she was lying. He let out a breath and briefly looked at the floor before punching his brother in the face.