Chapter Text
Between the difficulty unwinding, the night terrors, and the inability to fall back asleep once awake, Sloane never really established a good relationship with nighttime. It’s why it wasn’t unusual that she was lying in bed at one in the morning, her eyes completely wide open. The reason, however, was unique.
Her body had retired to her queen sized bed about two hours ago. A glass of wine and a good book accompanied her on the bedside table. She had been back and forth between her novel and her phone, but within the last twenty minutes her focus had been solely on her bedroom window. More specifically, the small gap between the glass and the lace, white curtain that lifted softy when the night breeze blew in. Her eyes were fixated on a navy blue sedan that sat right outside her home, the headlights having been dim for minutes now. The vehicle was unfamiliar and the license plate was illegible. She could only make out the presence of one body in the driver's seat from her awkward line of sight on her bed. Without much movement from the suspicious guest, she was tempted to blame it all on paranoia and just double check her front door lock before turning in for the night. Before she could act on the thought, the car door opened and what looked to be a young man, maybe in his early 20s, slipped out onto the road. Watching intently, she shimmed her body further down into her mattress and caught the street light reflecting off the man’s glasses. Red-rimmed and chunky, the shape shot heat up her spine. She knew someone who wore those glasses and she was suddenly praying it was anyone but them.
- - -
“Gibbs,” his monotone voice cutting through
the crisp air that filled her bedroom.
“Hey Gibbs,” Jack said softly, keeping her eyes on the man who was now making his way towards her front door.
“What’s wrong?” he said almost immediately.
“Could be nothing,” she exclaimed, beginning to pull back her covers. “But I think Joe Kaden is outside my condo.”
She heard the muffled sound of a sander being dropped and the echo of hurried footsteps up wooden stairs.
“Joe Kaden. The jackass we had to cut loose this morning, Joe Kaden?”
“Mhm,” she confirmed, twirling a piece of hair between her fingers as she crept closer to the window. “The one who threatened me after I brought up his daughter? The one who I ignored and involved his daughter anyway? Yeah, that’s the one.”
“Jack, I’m on my way,” Gibbs called out, the clear cut sound of a truck engine ringing through the line as he spoke.
“Yeah okay,” she replied calmly, “I can take care of myself, but I’m thinking we are going to have to take him in.”
“No one is taking anyone in until I get there,” Gibbs ordered. “You get yourself behind a locked door.”
Sloane reached under her mattress as he spoke, pulling out her gun and checking the cartridge. She kept the phone tucked between her shoulder and ear as she pulled back the curtain to get a better view of the street. He was definitely alone but he wasn’t unarmed. His right hand clutched something tightly and she was pretty positive it wasn’t a thank you card.
“A door is not going to do much when he’s got a gun,” Jack joked, her soft chuckle straggling every possible shout that gurgled up his throat.
“Jack-“
“I gotta go! See you soon,” she whispered, as if it was the most casual meet-up in the world. She ended the call before she could hear him call out her name again.
- - -
The sound of the front door knob being twisted and tugged let her know that her visitor was ready for action. She had tucked herself into the mudroom closet on the left of the entranceway and she was armed with a gun in one hand and a cast iron skillet in the other. The closet had no doors, it was simply a cut out in the wall, so she prayed the act of surprise would be on her side.
A single gunshot took the knob right off. Joe’s foot made contact with the door, just below the newly made bullet hole, flinging it wide open. Jack held her breath, waiting for at least a leg to make itself known on her tile flooring before jumping out. A black sneaker came into her line of view and she didn’t waste a moment, throwing herself from the safety of the coats and hangers to successfully clock the intruder over the head with the frying pan. The loud thud of iron hitting skull took not only Jack, but also the second man at her doorway, by surprise.
“So you really thought I would come alone?” smirked Joe, twirling the handle of his gun in his palm.
Raising her gun, she met his voice, “Didn’t know you were coming at all, Joe.”
The red-rimmed glasses seemed unphased by her attempted joke. “A man must keep his word. I will always protect my family,” he snarled.
Glancing down quickly to the face smashed against her floor she realized something. “Your brother,” she stated more than asked.
“You really thought he was dead?” Joe’s voice cracked on the word dead and it made the hair on Jack’s arms stand up.
“You are full of surprises,” she countered calmly, the barrel of her gun pointed firmly at his chest. A fake dead twin as the murder accomplice; she didn’t see that one coming.
“Yasmine sees Jake every Sunday,” he recalled, his voice beginning to melt at the mention of his daughter’s name. “They like to play monopoly and chess and cook macaroni together. She loves her uncle.”
“She would have ratted out his secret life without even knowing it.”
“She didn’t need to get involved, but you didn’t seem to care.“ His voice cracked again.
“Your brother killed a marine. I was just doing my job Joe, I would never-“
“Yeah, well now I need to do my job, Special Agent Sloane,” he barked, cutting off her explanation.
A flash of anger struck his dark brown eyes and before she could begin to reason with him, his temper skyrocketed.
“No one gets in the way of my family!” he shouted, whipping a gun out from the back pocket of his trousers. His arm was shaking profusely, but his pointer finger was sturdy on the trigger.
Three cruisers pulled onto her street with the introduction of the weapon. Bright lights, sirens, and the screeching of tires created a sensory overload for Joe and Jack could see he was fighting to stay on target.
“Drop your weapon or I’ll shoot,” Jack asserted, trying her best to focus him to her voice.
“My daughter!” he screamed, cocking back the hammer of the pistol.
Three shots. One. Two. Three.
Two bullets left her barrel and met his chest. One bullet left his barrel and met her bulletproof vest. His body dropped to meet the other man’s, who still lay unconscious on her doorstep. Her body stumbled backwards as one hand clutched her vest and the other gripped the door frame for stability.
Gibbs was the first up her driveway, with Torres and Bishop tight in behind him.
“I’m all good guys,” she called out, attempting to get back on her feet.
“Doesn’t look all good,” Gibbs protested, falling to his knees in front of her and resting a hand on her shoulder to keep her from standing.
“Gibbs,” she said more softly, pushing his shoulder a little to give herself some space. “I’m fine.”
He knew an adrenaline wear-off when he saw one, and the way her eyes were darting around everywhere except the team’s worried gaze was a dead giveaway.
“Torres, Bishop,” Gibbs barked over his shoulder. “Get Joe out of here. McGee, take Joe’s buddy to Palmer.”
“Twin,” she corrected, drawing her finger between the two bodies. “Joe’s buddy is his ‘dead’ twin.”
With equal parts suspicion and shock, the three agents got to work, but Gibbs leaned back into Jack’s space.
“Did you even hear what I said?’ she snapped. The electricity in her eyes was finding no comfort in his wrath of anxiety. “It was the twin and Joe was covering for him. And the daughter, she-“
“I don’t care about the case right now, Jack.” He practically towered over her and she was worried if he got any closer she’d start sinking into the floor. “You’re injured.”
He reached to touch the bullet marking on the vest but she swatted his hand away.
“I took care of it didn’t I?” she pouted, pointing at the two men who were each being strapped to a stretcher.
“You got shot!”
His hand reached up to her cheek, but she swerved at the contact.
“I’m fine,” she seethed. His hand dropped to his side like it had been badly burned.
“No, you’re stubborn,” he corrected, with a little more heat in his tone than he had intended, “and you’re going to see a doctor.”
She didn’t respond but instead shifted her position on the ground so most of her weight was on her right leg and right hand. Using as much strength as she could muster, she pushed herself up off the ground. Unfortunately, the standing position lasted all of two seconds before she lurched forward.
“Easy,” he whispered, wrapping an arm around her waist almost immediately. “Will you let me help you just this once?”
Her eyes met his with a signature combination of annoyance and sass, but she wasn’t stupid. There was no way she was walking more than a metre. “Mhm,” she mumbled, limping forward as he tucked her into his side.