I was suddenly hit with a feeling of Gibbs/Kate angst. I may not write much about them at the moment, but they do cross my mind every once in a while. Working on it, promise. Don't hesitate to tell me what you think, darlings.
The sun glued his eyes together, but he kept on walking. He always keeps on walking, no matter what happens.
Today, he thought he saw a flash of dark brown hair in the crowd. A lingering scent, to remind him. Bittersweet.
His heart had tried to jump out of his chest, his eyes opening despite the glaring sun.
Then he remembered.
xxxxxx
Life goes on. It always does. That is one of the many beautiful things with life, the fact that wounds heal. Eventually, one learns to breathe properly again. For a second, he wishes he could go back. For a moment he considers heading back home, down into the basement, skipping work, ignoring the world around him, ignoring this life that has gone on for so long. He considers simply drinking away his thoughts.
xxxxxx
Forgive yourself, his dreams tell him.
He spits on the ground, uncharacteristic, he knows, but he needs to blame someone and the floor will have to do.
He will never forgive himself.
xxxxx
There are things I never told you, Kate, things I will never tell you, things about me, things about my past. We didn't know each other that well, you know, I know, but... I also know that sometimes, your eyes betrayed you. Did my eyes betray me? Should they have? Betrayed your trust like that? And you would have understood how your face danced before my eyes in my weakest moments, how I sometimes couldn't keep myself from standing too close to you? Would you have detested me for it?
Sometimes betraying someone means... saving them.
xxxx
He wishes she were here. No, he doesn't.
He cannot make up his mind.
If she were here, she'd be alive.
If she were here... would she be... where would she be?
He does not dare imagining... it.
Them.
xxxxx
The wind caresses his crackled skin, and it comforts him.
Your body is rotting, Kate. And it's my damn fault.
The world is spinning around him. The sun is too strong, too unforgiving.
xxxxx
He wonders what the point is in missing someone like this. She is gone and that's the way it is.
He wishes he could have buried his memories with her in that coffin.
xxxxx
There are days that pass without her ghost following him like a shadow.
There are days when he laughs at himself, thinking maybe I wasn't in love with her.
But days like these, they crash into him like a train, wrecking him; days like these throw him off guard.
Days like these scream at him, wailing, longing, hurting: I loved her goddamnit, I loved her.
That was what doomed her. His love.
Anything I ever loved, anyone I ever loved... dead.