Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS. I wish.
So this is a new idea for a story.
If you've read 'The Five People You Meet In Heaven' you will know what this is loosely based on.
It will be that same sort of thing, but different... if that makes sense. It's from Tony's point of view.
So tell me what you think and if I should continue or not.
If it's crap tell me 'cause I want to know if I shouldn't continue.
Enjoy.
And please review.
The man opened his jacket, revealing a mess of wires and an IED strapped to his chest. There was a moment of shocked silence. The silence that is deafening, threatening to engulf and never release you.
"Oh crap," Tony whispered.
There were screams; a flash of light and then it all went black.
Tony shuffled onto the train slowly, his aching limbs willing him to rest, but his mind willing them to move. While age had worn down his muscles, his mind was still as sharp as ever. He slumped into the chair closest to him and let out a loud sigh. It was just too hard to get around these days. Tony looked around him, analyzing the people sitting idly on the train.
A woman cooing a screaming child. "Shh, darling, shh, we'll be home soon."
A teenage girl sitting with her knees brought up to her chest, listening to an Ipod or MP3 player.
A man sitting in the corner of the train, cutting himself off from everything and everyone else. It was in his posture… I want to be alone.
Tony stared more intensely at the man. This was wrong. He could just make out the sweat building up on the man's forehead in a fine sheen. His eyes were tightly closed and if Tony looked close enough, he could just see his lips moving. It was subtle, hardly noticeable, but it was there. As if the man was whispering to himself… singing, quoting, praying? The man held his arms around him almost protectively and fidgeted slightly as if uncomfortable, as if there was something nagging at him.
Tony shook his firmly.
You're analyzing this too much, Tony. Give it up. You retired years ago. This isn't up to you anymore.
And it was there again. The reminder of his failure. The constant knowing that he could have helped the people he loved. He could have done something. He could have saved them. Tony could still hear the mocking voices in his head.
You're old and weak. What have you accomplished?
Nothing.
You could have saved them, couldn't you?
Yes.
But did you?
No.
And where are they now?
Tony gripped the sides of his chair hard as his knuckles turned white. He closed his eyes tightly, attempting to banish the voices from his head, his face screwed up in an expression of immense pain and suffering. He couldn't deal with this. The voice persisted, ignoring his pain.
Where are they now?
Tony gripped the chair harder began to breathe more rapidly as once again the voice pushed it's way into his mind, filled with hatred and venom.
WHERE ARE THEY NOW?
Tony slumped into the chair and trembled slightly. Giving in, he whispering softly under his breath.
"Dead," he breathed, "and it's my fault."
And then there was silence. The voice was gone and Tony was back to being old, weak and alone. He sighed deeply and sat back in the uncomfortable train chair, once again surveying the people around him, this time taking more care to note the finer details.
The woman cooing the screaming child. "Shh, darling, shh, we'll be home soon." Exasperated as the woman seemed, there were slight creases around her eyes and mouth, a telltale sign of a life of happiness and laughter. While she seemed to be at her wits end with the child in her arms, her eyes were warm and full of love. The words that spilled from her lips were not harsh or demanding, they were simply reassuring.
The teenage girl sitting with her knees brought up to her chest, listening to an Ipod or MP3 player. Her head was bopping slightly to the beat of whatever she was listening to. Every so often, the girl would allow a soft smile to make it's on her face and she would whisper one or two of the lyrics, presumably the chorus.
The man sitting in the corner of the train, cutting himself off from everything and everyone else. He appeared calmer now, more at ease. As if he had come to terms with something and accepted it.
Tony wondered fleetingly what this might be, but he was not as worried about the man as he was before. Before he had the chance to turn away, the man stood up and walked to the centre of the carriage. He was muttering again now and Tony felt a growing sense of dread in the pit of his stomach.
The man opened his jacket, revealing a mess of wires and an IED strapped to his chest. There was a moment of shocked silence. The silence that is deafening, threatening to engulf and never release you.
"Oh crap," Tony whispered.
There were screams; a flash of light and then it all went black.
A/N: Sooo... What did you think? Please review and tell me. Should I continue? Thanks for reading.