"He couldn't have known.
Known the hour glass was full, known his last tally had been crossed. Agent Tommy..."
Backspace.
Tap. Tap. Tap.
"He couldn't have known."
Delete.
"..."
A frustrated sigh.
"There was no greater hero."
Delete.
"It was his last-" delete.
"Tommy..."
Fingers tore from the type writer and scraped over his eyes.
Very dead, very horror-filled eyes.
Similar to Tony's.
When Tony stared up at nothing.
They were vacent.
Timothy, however was still breathing.
But that was all it was:
Breathing.
It still hurt.
In.
Out.
Final exhale...
He tore paper out of the antique and put it through the shredder.
Day in, day out, he tried to write the final chapter.
The very last novel of the Deep Six series.
He had only gotten as far as the dedication.
"To a friend, a partner, a mentor and a hero: you will be missed. Anthony D. DiNozzo."
The world thought Thomas E. Gemcity was an ordinary writer.
Thought the characters were contrived from his mind.
That Agent Tommy was fictional.
Tim wanted to shed light on the way it was.
He longer worked for NCIS so there weren't any security complications.
He turned in his badge 5 months ago.
It left Bishop as Senior Field Agent with two junior replacements.
12 years and Gibbs out lived and out survived his team mates.
His family.
Kate.
Oh God, Kate.
Tim's eyes pooled over.
A stiff sob wracked his frame.
This all started with Kate.
Whose final words to him were, 'every time you walk out that door, you had to accept you might not come back.'
They almost lost Tony to the plague.
Then Kate died two weeks later.
He heard the gun shot.
He heard the follow up.
McGee saw her on that roof top.
Then it shattered.
A naive wonder for this job completely shattered.
It was no longer a maybe.
No longer a caution.
She was gone.
And death was a permanent fixture in space and time.
It couldn't be erased.
12 years by his side.
12 years of friendship, struggle, pain and laughter.
12 years of ignoring that maybe...
There was a knock at his door.
McGee's eyes closed.
He sat in a corner slouched over.
It was dark.
He was numb.
Perfectly numb.
Another knock.
"Tim?"
"..."
A heart beat.
"Tim, open the door!"
He saw Tony.
Tony back at the crime scene.
...his crime scene.
Sirens wailed.
The special agent wasn't aware of the sound or the crimson blood covering his face.
It was on the jacket...
The jacket that Tony's still grey fingers had a lock on.
A vacent numbness was shattered by a hot stab of agony.
McGee began to hyperventilate.
Panicked, exhausted, pain filled breathes.
His mind fled, and ran around in circles.
Denial hopped in.
Grief destroyed that innocent.
Reality came crashing in and Tim couldn't inhale.
He couldn't hear.
Or see anything but his partner.
Rain splattered blood droplets upwards.
Bouncing back down.
A crowd envolped the space behind him.
Hands tried to pull him back.
A primal scream ripped through his throat.
More sobbing.
Clawing.
Trying to stay with Tony.
'Stay with me...' he thought being pulled back, 'Stay with me...be okay Tony...be okay!'
"It's okay, Tim...it's okay.."
Gibbs wrapped comforting arms around his remaining agent.
That last part was said out loud.
Tony was fine.
Tony was here.
Tony would be at work tomorrow because Tony always went to work.
This...
This was a nightmare.
His bete noire.
Whiteness took over.
Banging.
"McGee!"
A few seconds ticked on by.
It unlocked.
Gibbs was standing on the other side.
A face he hadn't seen in months.
Not since returning to NCIS after what happened.
Seeing a vacent desk.
Sending a very clear message.
...
He handed the marine his badge.
He was done.
Gibbs now stared at him, shaking his head, "What are you doing?"
The response was a slow grind of the jaw.
A fist clench.
The young man was pale beyond comparison.
Underneath his eyes were grey and purple.
He wore clothes he probably hadn't gotten out of in weeks.
Tim just stared.
Smack!
The head slap was immediately followed by a warm embrace.
Tim's resolve finally crumpled and the dam burst.
He cried.
Cried his heart out so many times.
It wouldn't be his last.
It would never stop hurting.
Would never stop caring.
He wouldn't move on.
Tony meant too much to him.
Tony couldn't really be gone.
He couldn't.
Hiding away in a dark dingy apartment for months on end, unemployed allowed McGee that question.
Was there still a Anthony DiNozzo out there?
Would there be anymore period timeless movie references?
Be any more Tony DiNozzo laughter?
Juvenile pranks or heart felt wisdom.
12 years.
12 years with a person excluded death.
You knew 'm long enough and they were never really gone.
"S' ok probie...s' ok..."
Again, his eyes closed.
It was truly, Tim's Bete Noire.
Black & White Poof
Fin.
Author Notes: I know it isn't as good as the first installment which is why I'll have to edit later. But what do you think now?