Hey guys! This is just something I scribbled down today. It came to me as I was walking my dog and I ran home to write it down as quickly as I could. Not betaed, obviously, but I think it's okay.
25 days
He thinks he will be all right.
Today, for the first time, Tony actually thinks he will be all right.
Yesterday was the first day he didn't cry at night. He almost considered that a defeat.
Two days ago, he watched a movie and nearly laughed. It was just a silly chick-flick, but still.
Three days ago, he sat down in his kitchen and had a hot meal for dinner. Kept it down too.
Four days ago, he felt a warmth in his numb body he hadn't felt in a long time.
Five days ago, he accepted a hug from Abby. She was happy about that, she told him so.
Six days ago, he woke from a nightmare again and went running and didn't stop until he tasted blood. New record time.
Seven days ago, he phoned Gibbs and talked without hanging up in the middle of the conversation.
Eight days ago was the first day he didn't lash out at the probie. He should have stopped that a long time ago. Easy to say; "should have".
Nine days ago Gibbs gave him a head slap that made his ears ring, for lashing out at the probie.
Ten days ago, was the last day he threw up his breakfast five minutes after finishing it.
Eleven days ago Ducky pursued him all day. Good thing he had all the hiding places located.
Twelve days ago, his arm hurt so badly he had to go catch his breath in the staircase a few times. He even found some new places to hide.
Thirteen days ago, he took his last prescribed medication. He hoped at least that was what the doctor ordered.
Fourteen days ago, he shattered his office computer. Stupid machine. Never works anyway.
Fifteen days ago, Jenny phoned to ask if he was considering showing his face at work sometime soon.
Sixteen days ago, he forgot to eat and nearly passed out helping an old lady cross the street.
Seventeen days ago, he slept all day. It would have been nice, except for the nightmares.
Eighteen days ago, he threw his sling in the trash. Wasn't helping much anyway.
Nineteen days ago, he was released from hospital. Gibbs drove him home. They didn't exchange a word in the car. They didn't have to.
Twenty days ago, he convinced the doctors he would be better off at home. He proved it by eating his Jell-o.
Twenty-one days ago, they tried force-feeding him Jell-o and were upset when it was scattered on the floor.
Twenty-two days ago, Abby came to see him and she made him utter a few words. Only Abby.
Twenty-three days ago, he didn't talk at all, and the nurses were really worried about him.
Twenty-four days ago, he didn't know if he was going to live through the day. He was hoping that he wouldn't.
Twenty-five days ago, he watched Ziva get caught in a crossfire.
He listened to her labored breathing.
Heard her last words pierce his heart.
Couldn't do anything to keep her from slipping away.
A part of him died with her and he thought he would never be all right again.
Twenty-five days ago.
The End
Sorry 'bout the death fic, all you Ziva lovers! At least I made an attempt at shipping (kinda), something I don't do too often.
Tip: if you read it backwards the chronology is more obvious.