Bit ambiguous this one. So over to you to decide.
Rain drops …..
Tony frowned as he tracked the path of the raindrops sliding down his arm, weaving a slow, lazy path along his skin before dripping from the crook of his elbow, ending their brief existence with a splat on the alley floor.
Rain drops keep ….
He looked up as the sky flashed with lighting, the night sky illuminated with streaks of light; the roar of thunder resonating all around mere seconds later, as if angry with the lightening's antics. The rain changed its tempo as in agreement, fat lazy raindrops turning into a torrent of stinging water.
Rain drops keep falling….
Tony was drenched in seconds, jeans and t-shirt plastered to his skin. He didn't move from his position, leant against the dumpster, long legs stretched out before him. His left arm limp and useless, his right hand pushing as hard as he could bear against the bullet wound to his left shoulder, the blood trickling through his fingers, quickly washed away by the relentless rain.
Rain drops keep failing…..
He growled in frustration as the words kept repeating in his head, unable to remember the rest of the song. He knew he was bleeding out, going into shock. He knew he was Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo and his undercover assignment had once against turned to shit because it wasn't his team backing him up, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember the rest of the words to the goddamn song.
Butch Cassidy and the Sundance Kid, 1969, starring Robert Redford and Paul Newman, directed by George Roy Hill...that's where the song was from. So why couldn't he remember the rest of it? He could remember everything else. The way he always got screwed over by the Director, be it Vance or Jenny, both using him for their own ends. Forcing him to betray his team, to betray Gibbs. Why the hell did he always say yes? He huffed a self-deprecating laugh, because of his screwed up need to please, to be praised, to be noticed, that's why. And now he was going to bleed to death in a filthy alley, all evidence of his murderers washed away with the pouring rain, and with a song resonating through his brain that he couldn't remember the words to.
Rain drops keep falling….
Authors note: That's it folks! Not going to add to this one shot. It's up to you as a reader, as with all my stories, to take it where ever you want it to go. My stories are short, just a snapshot of what could be a bigger story, but one that will never be written, unless someone else wants to write it.
Btw, critical annoynmous reviews are deleted. It's easy to be nasty when you hide your identity, so grow a pair and sign in if you want to bitch me out, then I can reply to you!