Timothy McGee Gibbs Knew his father loved him, of course he knew that. But sometimes. In the dark of night and in the blinding light of day he didn’t believe it.
Jethro Gibbs was a hard man to know, to understand. Even to his only son. He would say only child but that would be disrespectful to his sister. Tim thought of Kelly.
Six years younger than him and the apple of their father’s eye.
Kelly had always been a daddy’s girl. Glued to his side whenever he was home. While Tim himself had been more of his mother’s son.
More quite more reserved but willing to show his temper when the time called for it. Yes Kelly was Jethro’s and Tim was Shannon’s.
But then Shannon and Kelly had died, and Tim had lived and a part of Tim figured his father blamed him for that. For living where they didn’t.
Sometimes he’d look at his father and see the haunted look and wonder if he father wished it had been Kelly who had lived instead. Kelly who was standing in front of him.
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