Her eyes were wet and red, and her face looked drawn. Gibbs tilted his head slightly, looking at her closely. “Yeah… those things that come out of chickens.” “Do you have eggs?” she asked Gibbs when he came back outside. Sammie was sitting on the bench, petting Jack. He dug a clean shirt out of a drawer, put it on, and headed back to his daughter. Gibbs went into his room, stripping off his t-shirt and tossing it in the wicker laundry basket in the corner. He could hear Jack whining as he approached Sammie’s room, so he opened the door and let him out the dog glanced at him and barked once as he ran downstairs. He smiled at her and went inside and up the stairs. “You might want to change,” she said apologetically. “Yeah.” She released him and backed up a step, her eyebrows lifting as she looked at his shirt. She blew her nose on his shirt, the sound making him smile as it reminded him of days long gone by. “It’s okay, Kells,” he murmured, “you did a great job.” Gibbs held on to his daughter as she cried, sounding broken in a way he hadn’t heard since they were reunited.
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