Gibbs could only guess at the thoughts going through Elizabeth’s mind. When it came to her, he was certain of very little. He had, in effect, watched her grow, become the woman that she was today, and yet he almost felt as though now she was not who he’d known.
He knew how she felt about Beckett. And Norrington. And the fury she felt was clearly reflected in her eyes, but he could not understand the extent of what she was experiencing, having not cared so much about another being in his life as she had. Quite frankly her attitude at the moment frightened him a little, but then he’d always been nervous around her. At least now he viewed her as more than Bad Luck. At least now perhaps he could help her in some way. If she was not beyond helping.
The idea was plausible. Gibbs had never seen Elizabeth as he was at the moment - so almost unhinged and yet so in control over what she was doing, what she needed to do, that insanity was the last thing he would associate her with. Gibbs didn’t quite understand that either. Whenever he felt overwhelmed by emotion he usually began to drink, was drinking, or was drunk already.
"And how long until it becomes too much?"
Some of the anger had drained away in the time it took Gibbs to speak again. Its absence left her feeling exhausted, but she was determined not to show it. This was something of a cycle for her. Elizabeth would experience moments of such deep heartache that rage was the only response her body would allow, and within moments, it would drain away again, leaving her feeling empty. It seemed that anger was the only emotion she could truly and wholly feel some days, and she clung to it if only to keep the numbness at bay.
Her gaze fell to the ocean lapping gently against the side of the ship. What if it was already too much? What if all of this time she'd just been hiding from the fact that she was in too deep? But there was no going back, Elizabeth knew that. She could not simply ignore the events that had transpired. She couldn't turn a cheek to the injustices the world had punished her with.
"What would you have me do, Mister Gibbs?"
Her voice was quiet, lacking its original fire as she turned her head fully to look at him. Though the rest of her expression remained carefully set into impassiveness, there was an undeniable sadness in her eyes, one that she would ordinarily have masked if she'd had the energy to do so.
"I can't just let them get away with what they've done."
