i swear i lived

by justpayingattention

two times he says her name and she's there to hear it, and two times she isn't. contains very mild spoilers for sub rosa and twilight through kill ari part 2.

A/N: This is what I get for listening to I Lived by OneRepublic and relating it to my otp to end all otps post-Kate's death. This is the first time that I've ever written for the paring and the show, so I apologise if any of this is ooc!

before.

i.

"What's your first name?"

"Caitlin. Kate."

"Kate," he says, and she doesn't know how, but the sound of her name rolling off his tongue for the very first time like that sends a shiver up her spine.

ii.

"Kate.." He gives her a warning look, but she steps closer still.

He's falling into the depths of her eyes and she's so close to him now that he feels his breath catch in his throat. He searches her face for any indication that she doesn't want what he's about to do, but he finds none.

Something inside him caves then and he gives in, ducking his head and finally meeting her soft lips with his.

after.

i.

"Kate, go start up the truck."

He says it without thinking, the grief hitting him like a wave when she doesn't answer and it takes him a minute to realise why.

He stops, standing rooted to the spot in front of her empty desk whilst DiNozzo and McGee watch him, wide-eyed, neither of them quite knowing what to say. In his head, the world stops spinning and it feels like the wind's been knocked out of him. He remains like that for a few seconds, trying to catch his breath, guilt and anger and grief flooding through him. He can feel the two younger agents' gaze burning holes into his back and it's then that he whips around, fixing them an ice-cold stare that makes them recoil a little in their seats.

"What are you two doing still sat there?" he asks, the last remaining trace of his bitter anger at himself seeping into his voice.

ii.

He's fallen asleep at his desk for the third time in a week and he dreams of her on the Philadelphia, her warm body pressed right up against his, her hand clutching at the lapel of his jacket as the sub rockets through the water. The memory of her smacking his chest afterwards wakes him up with a start to a dark and empty squadroom, the ghost of her name on his lips.