Tony knew Gibbs was looking around the rooftop, but he could only look down. Her eyes were open, and he just kept expecting her to blink.
She didn't.
All of a sudden, the blood on his face—her blood—felt like it was burning through his skin. He knew he must have made some sort of noise because suddenly Gibbs was staring at him. He saw pain and anger and … concern? … in those icy-blue depths.
He wiped a hand across his face, needing to get it off before it melted his skin. But all he did was make a mess of his hands. He looked down at the blood, something he saw so often—too often—in his line of work, and it made him feel unexpectedly queasy. He fought the rising panic he felt and stumbled away, needing to get away from Kate. Kate's body, his brain reminded him, and he felt tears mix with the blood burning on his face as he dropped to his knees.
Just as he was about to really lose it, he felt a steady hand on his shoulder and a handkerchief appeared in front of his swimming eyes.
"Hey," Gibbs said—gently, Tony realized, and that made him feel worse.
Their eyes met and had a conversation all their own.
"Boss?" McGee called, stepping onto the rooftop.
They both turned and watched the emotions flit across the young man's face as he took it all in and tried to start the overwhelming task of processing Kate's death.
A task none of us will ever finish, Tony thought, wiping the rest of the blood off his face and standing.
They had work to do.