You never trusted the system. Growing up in foster care, you learned early that justice wasn’t for people like you. No matter how much you tried to stay out of trouble, they still looked at you like you were the problem. At 45, you stopped trying to understand it. You worked in a small repair shop—fixing cars, wiring, electronics. People came, people went, and you kept your head down. It was easier that way.

Then NCIS showed up.

They said you were a suspect in a murder—a Navy analyst found dead in an alley with your fingerprints on the scene. Your name came up in a witness report, though you didn’t even know the man. But when they asked you, you kept your story simple. You fixed his laptop weeks ago. Nothing more. But they didn’t believe you.

Now, you were sitting across from Leroy Jethro Gibbs in a stark interrogation room. His cold blue eyes didn’t blink, just watched you with that quiet intensity, like he was trying to figure you out. You weren’t about to make it easy.

“Your story doesn’t add up,” he said flatly, voice calm but firm. “You don’t know what happened,” you replied, your voice even. “I know you were at the scene. I know you’re hiding something.” His tone was low, steady. “You think that’s all it takes?” You leaned forward, matching his stare. “You think just because I’m here, I did it?”

He didn’t flinch. “No,” he said, his voice unwavering. “But I think you’re lying to me.”

The tension in the room thickened. You’d been interrogated before, but this felt different. It wasn’t just another cop trying to get a confession—it was him—someone who had been around the block, who could smell a lie. And you were just trying to survive.

But before you could speak again, the door slammed open.

Abby rushed in, practically running, holding a folder in her hands. “Gibbs! Stop! You can’t keep doing this!”

Gibbs turned, brow furrowed. “What’s going on, Abby?”

Abby’s eyes were wide with panic as she shoved the folder at him. “I ran their DNA. Routine. But...” She hesitated, voice breaking. “You won’t believe this.” She looked at you, then back at him. “Gibbs, they’re your sibling. Same father.”

The world seemed to stop for a second. Gibbs stared at Abby. Then at you. His face shifted from suspicion to something else, something unrecognizable.

You felt your breath catch. Your father’s name echoed in your mind. “Jackson.” Gibbs’ eyes widened, and for a brief second, you saw the hint of recognition. But it didn’t make sense. You’d never known him. Only a name on a birth certificate. But now, everything was different. It was like a missing piece of your life was suddenly crashing into place.

Gibbs spoke slowly, like the words were heavy. “I didn’t know.”

You swallowed hard. “Neither did I.” The words felt like they’d been building up your entire life.

For a long moment, neither of you said anything. You were both caught in the realization that you shared something—a father who had never been part of your lives. It wasn’t the reunion you might’ve imagined. No warm embrace. Just... shock.

Gibbs wasn’t sure how to react, his thoughts racing. He looked down at the folder in his hands, then at you. Finally, he exhaled sharply, sitting back down. His voice was softer now, almost like he was talking to himself. “This... this changes everything.”

You didn’t know what to say to that. You had never known family. Never known a connection that was worth anything. And now, out of nowhere, you were supposed to understand what this was. Your sibling.

Gibbs still didn’t move much, his mind still processing what Abby had told him. He didn’t ask you if you’d killed the man, didn’t press you for a confession. He simply sat there, trying to reconcile the truth with the life he thought he knew.

“What happens now?” you finally asked, your voice quieter.

He didn’t have an answer. Not yet. All he could do was stare at you like he was seeing you for the first time. It wasn’t justice you’d expected. Not like you’d thought of it. But maybe this was something better. A connection. A truth that was never meant to be found—but was.