Summary: She is facing his body on a cold metal slab, and only now does she take the time to really think about what he means to her.
Disclaimer: I once checked if the time difference means that I get to own NCIS on weekends and during the hours that they're asleep, but...no :(
Spoilers: None.
Hee. I know, really short oneshot. Forgive me...it's 500 words on her feelings alone. But please review? Maybe I'll forward the reviews to the big shots at NCIS and they'll be so touched that they'll let me own NCIS on weekends...I'll share it with you! :D
-Soph
Silence
She wouldn't have believed it until she saw the proof with her very own eyes, and she hadn't. But now, as she looked down at his body, his person, lying on the cold metal slab, she regretted not believing it. Because if she had, then maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't hurt that much. Maybe she would have accepted it by now. Maybe she would already have detached her emotional self from it, like she always did when it came to others. Maybe she would no longer be feeling all dead inside.
She didn't think it was possible for her to feel everything and nothing at the same time. She didn't think it was possible for her to remember every single moment they had had together but damnit, not be able to remember what all of those moments felt like. She didn't think it was ever possible for her to touch his skin, run her fingers through his hair, and get nothing. No tingling beneath her fingertips, no sudden inhalation of breath from him, no snarky remark made with a warm smile. No green eyes gazing into her own, and telling her tales of love and happy endings.
It scared her, the way she wanted to peel back his eyelids and look into his eyes once more. They were just empty orbs now. Without sparkle, without intensity, without life, without soul. But she wondered; if she gave just a little bit of her soul to him, would he come back to life? Would he look at her the way he did before? Because this time she would make sure that she remembered it. This time she would make sure that she remembered it so well it seeped through her skin and flowed through her veins and vibrated within her core; her entire being.
But he just wouldn't wake up. Just wouldn't open his damn eyes; just wouldn't give her that one last moment. Even in death he just wouldn't grant her what she really wanted. And as she held back the urge to strangle him for being so stubborn, the corner of her mind which she hadn't yet lost started to laugh because she found it hysterical that she would want to strangle a dead man. She laughed along with it, so that she could laugh and scream herself senseless. After all, there was nothing else she could do now.
The laughter grew louder and echoed around in her mind and deafened her so much that she didn't even realize she had fallen to the floor wailing, until was Gibbs rushed to her side and helped her up. "He will not wake up!" She cried desperately to Gibbs, hoping that Gibbs would go and wake him up. Hoping that someone, anyone, would come, and wake him up.
But Gibbs would only brush back her hair and look at her, his blue eyes swirling with sadness. "I know, Ziver. I'm sorry."
Beneath all the laughter and wailing, it was really only Tony's ringing silence that she heard.
