Dinozzo awoke, sweating, his face sweltering hot and a strong run of fear that pervaded his blue eyes. Tony had never come to find any realism in dreams – very Zivaish of him, her disbelief in Fortune Cookies and his in an allusion people read too much into a dancing elephant or three legged men.
The dream was not per say long but his feet were slow as if dragging concrete and his eyes only showed him clips – he was sure of his surroundings, the sunlight hidden and then reappearing from behind the trees but strangely shining no light – That reminded him of the Blare Witch Project, Good movie, but the darkness was the hardest because although the sun came through the darkness was never REALLY over.
At a clearing he tested himself why he was running, the hollow of the woods seemed after him and he tripped and stumbled at every turn.
A final turn ended the dream and very well was the most disturbing part of the dream as he turned, feeling as though he were actually there he saw what and who he was running from, in the cool of the morning and even in the darkness Dinozzo could make out the face he had looked to for nearly six years –
Gibbs was standing over him, an axe in his hand and the glare in his eyes, Tony was suddenly on the ground looking into those eyes and calmly from the chill of the morning came his voice:
"Dinozzo, you remember you were supposed to protect Jenny – I loved her Dinozzo, Why did you do that Dinozzo, why?"
Gibbs? – His hair was matted awkwardly and he was bringing back the axe over his head. Gibbs??
The axe had come down upon his chest hard and like the feeling of falling In a dream he felt as though he lay there dying and as he turned his head blood trickling down his arm he saw a tree secluded from the rest and hanging from it Ziva David, dead like he was. Her face tilted to one side awkwardly – the flash of that week pouring instantly like a hot realization of the world being poured back into him. Or just blood.
Dead – lies – blood – too many secrets.
Gibbs awoke his normal mood, from behind the computer screen on his desk – he had lost sleep in the upcoming days and had found little but still comfort dozing off every now and then at the glance of the directors office and he had found that comforting – just in case.
The phone vibrated in Gibbs' lap – man he hated that thing, the blur of his eyes was temporary but it was enough to wake him from his slumber and bark his name into the receiver.
"Gibbs, he said – but only half awake and very unwelcoming in his voice.
The receiving end was silent and Gibbs had half the temptation to leave it when a low voice answered, his too unwelcoming and harsh.
"Special Agent Gibbs said the other end intuitively "Joshua Mecum – FBI."
Oh, Gibbs knew these people; he didn't like them either NCIS strangely enough didn't seem to be their favorite acronym at all for turf or reasons of need.
"I only deal with Tobias – you have him call me – that's all."
He didn't even try to hide his little care for these people – he was tired and they were arrogant, Tobias was a personal exception.
"No – "the voice said with a kind of laugh now," that's not all, Tobias is dead, and you are next."
...