Title: Pink Elephant Blues
Author: KaraLee713
Summary: Another post-Twilight story. Tony receives a visit from a recently departed friend (guess who) semi-Tate, more so in later chapters
Disclaimer: They don't belong to me, obviously, or this story would not be necessary.
Disclaimer 2: The title belongs to my little sister. Thanks Nina!
Author's Note: This is my first post. I've been a long time reader and have never finished writing a story to my satisfaction, but traumatic events (like those in Twilight) lead to change. I have been motivated to post. This will be in two, possibly three chapters. I probably could have done it one, but I'm having a hard time with the ending. Please enjoy, and please review!
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Tony stared at the shot glass in front of him, one of many. The bartender had been tempted to cut him off, but the look in his eyes and the stains on his clothes spoke of a desperate, aching need to get utterly and completely smashed.
Tony didn't even know what was in the glass at this point. He was having a difficult time remembering things. In fact, he'd forgotten everything except for what he came here to forget. Memories that still hadn't lost their potency danced before his eyes: Kate's smile as she stood up on the roof top; the innocuous red dot that had appeared so suddenly on her forehead; the feeling of her blood, spattering across his cheek; the empty eyes that stared up at him as he looked in disbelief at his fallen colleague.
He grunted to himself in mild chagrin. Kate was more than just a colleague, she was… she was… his brother/sister in arms… his comrade… his friend. He shook his head, trying to clear the fog from his brain, and more memories filled the space.
These were less vivid, clouded with shock. He remembered Gibbs firing at least two dozen bullets wildly in the direction the shot had come from, and the sight of Ari artfully dodging all of them as he made his escape into the building he was on top of. He remembered Gibbs' shouted words as he summoned all available back up to chase the man down. He remembered sinking slowly to his knees and staring at Kate's body. He remembered cradling her lifeless form in his arms for an undetermined length of time. One memory was clearer than the others: Kate was being pulled from his arms and carried away in a black bag. He had never realized how much meaning was contained in one of those bags. As she and the men carrying her moved into the stairwell and out of sight, he had felt as if a part of himself were being painfully ripped away.
The last memory before he started drinking was of Gibbs lifting him by the elbow to his feet and leading him slowly down the stairwell. They had been walking almost directly behind the EMT's carrying Kate. Tony had been fixating on anything other than her; the cold feeling of the railing under his hand, the number of steps he had taken, the slightly dizzy feeling he got from going around and around in the never-ending stairwell, someone named Mark who had proudly written on the wall that he "was here" last November. Tony had developed an instant hatred of Mark for his flippant disregard for the significance of this location. However, the reason for its significance was being paraded directly in front of him, and the fire of the hatred was gone, replaced by his earlier state of lethargy. Tony's forced apathy was interrupted when one of the EMT's rounded the corner too sharply and bumped Kate into the wall. Tony didn't remember much of what he had screamed at the man, but he did remember Gibbs holding him back until Kate's body was out of the building and being driven away. Gibbs had let another set of paramedics look at him and taken him to the car they had arrived in. "Are you…" he cleared his throat. "Are you alright to drive?" he had asked in a voice thick with emotion.
"Yeah," Tony had said, his voice sounding hollow, even in his own ears.
"Good," Gibbs said, "I'll uh… I'll talk to Abby and Ducky and the family. I'll catch a cab, you just… go home and take it easy, ok?"
"Yeah," Tony repeated, sounding exactly the same as the first time he had said it. He had driven aimlessly for a while, but he had spotted a bar and decided to stop. He had parked far from the door, hoping the fresh air on the walk would do him good. He entered, somehow thinking that all conversation would stop as he did, but no one in the bar knew about what had happened. To them he was just another customer. No one stopped to stare, no one looked at him with sympathy, they just carried on with their lives. He went to the bar, sat down, and began drinking and trying to forget.
But he couldn't forget. How could you forget that someone who had been such and integral part of your life was now gone forever? And that's what she was: gone forever. She had died. Snuffed out like a candle by that bastard Ari without a moment's hesitation. Tony could imagine that the man had smiled as he killed her. He squeezed the shot glass still in his hand and broke it.
"Hey! Take it easy there," a familiar voice said. He turned to his right and there she was. Kate. She was sitting sideways on the barstool, facing him, looking very comfortable and relaxed. Her elbow was on the bar, her head supported by her hand. She was looking at him half concerned and half amused. "You're gonna have to pay for that, you know." She smiled at him.
"You're dead," he said, turning back to face front.
"You're drunk," she responded, still smiling that beautiful smile of hers and maintaining the teasing tone she'd had so often when they spoke. "But I'm not holding it against you."
"Go away," he said. The bartender, who had come over to help clean up the mess from the broken glass, glared at him. "Just tryin' to help buddy." He headed back to the other end of the bar.
"Damn it Kate," he slurred. "You're makin' me look bad. You always make me look bad." He ran the towel the bartender had left through the mess and succeeded in spreading it around the bar.
"You don't need me to do that Tony," she said, smirking, not changing her posture or position.
"But it is you!" He lowered his voice as he saw other customers eyeing him warily. "You're makin' me look crazy, now, and you always do stuff to make me look bad. You never ever dropped that whole transvestite/transsexual kiss thing, you laugh at me when Gibbs smacks me, you took a god damn bullet for Gibbs, and then you…" he stopped.
"And then I what, Tony?"
"And then you went and died before I could do anything to save you, Kate. You make me look bad."
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Well, what do you think? Comments, suggestions, and criticisms welcome. Should I continue? I'm seriously asking, because my sister thought that that was the end. Please review! Thanks!