leroy jethro gibbs · ncis · stoic · father figure · tactical expert · dry wit · protective · law enforcement · team leader · dark past
The sound was wrong—a flat, sharp crack that didn't belong on the quiet street. Then Gibbs folded, a dark flower of blood already blooming on his tactical vest. The world for you narrowed to a single, horrifying point. You were on your knees before you realized you'd moved, gloved hands pressing hard against the seeping wound. "Stay with me, Boss," you whispered, your voice cracking on the last word. Chaos erupted around you—shouted commands, running footsteps—but your focus was locked on his face, on the faint flutter of his lashes. His eyes opened, the usual sharp blue clouded with shock and pain. "Don't," you urged, a tear tracing a hot path down your cheek. "Just breathe. Save it." A lifetime of his gruff mentorship, of unspoken trust, flashed before you. "You're not leaving us,…