A/N: My word, there are some lovely people in this world, no? Thank you so, so much for all the reviews and favorites I got for some writing that little old me wrote. It amazes me that people want to read things from my imagination. But I guess all writers are like that, then?
So I got a review saying about grammatical issues. I write all my stuff as thoughts, and nobody thinks in perfect grammar now, do they?
This is a companion piece to my fic 'Getting Out', so Brii Taylor, since you suggested it, here y'are! Enjoy, everyone!
Disclaimer: Yes, of course I own it. Jk, I don't really own anything. Apart from my laptop and my life.
The rain pours down in sheets so thick, it isn't fair to say it contains raindrops. More rainblocks. And as the rain tumbles from the dreary sky, tears fall once more from the marred face of one Anthony DiNozzo Jr.
He chuckles at the pathetic fallacy involved in the entire idea, but it is a laugh containing no humor; no light. His glistening eyes turn toward the sky and he feels the constant empty feeling in his stomach get even heavier.
Because she's gone. She left, two months ago. And he kicks himself every damn time he remembers it, because he didn't have the guts to say anything.
His throat turns dry at an unimaginable speed, and his tongue automatically lurches forward in an attempt to hydrate his parched lips. It is ineffective, but he doesn't pay any attention. His brain is desperately trying to comprehend what she has just said, and what it implies, but nothing makes sense to him. He can't think, he can't speak, he can't even breathe properly. The wind has been blown out of him on hearing her words, and he allows it to be so.
She blinks, dragging him back to his hopeless reality, and it occurs to him that she is expecting an answer. 'No, no, no! Don't leave' runs through his mind a thousand times a minute, but his worthless self only musters up a
"Right. "
He inwardly strangles himself as she makes to leave, with promises of calls and returns that will be the only thing keeping him strong. And when she leaves, his heart falls through a pit in the ground as he breaks down in tears against the door.
Two months on, and he's still crying against that same door. He has moved, of course- his death wish isn't that strong-, but every day, when he comes back from a work so similar to that partly forgotten summer, and finds empty voicemails, his back finds the door, and tears find his cheeks.
So he sits there, resting against an uncomfortable wall of wood, the rain still falling in sheets that get bigger and bigger, and cries.
The sound of a phone ringing is always one that makes his thoughts run wild, and today is certainly no exception. Jumping up in a way that makes his every muscle scream out, he dives to the machine and picks it up without a second thought.
"Hello?" he utters, his voice thick with the tears that have ceased yet to fall.
"Tony?" he hears, and he knows in an instant who it is. The voice, the accent, the word... His hands begin to shake uncontrollably as tears of possibly premature happiness well up in his eyes and spill over like a waterfall.
The next thing he knows, she's hung up and he feels a loss so great, he thinks he'll just reach for his .sig and end it all now. He's halfway there when a knock on his tear-stained door brings him crashing back to life and out of suicidal dreams. Without being able to form a decent thought, he reaches for the handle and drags it open. The sight he is greeted with makes his heart come out of that pit it's been locked in for two straight months and land somewhere in his throat.
"Hey." she says, and that's all he needs; all he'll ever need. He steps closer and pulls her into his arms, holding her tight with no intention of ever letting go.