AN: S2.23 ep "Twilight" added scene. One shot. Warnings: Talk of gory stuff. Canon Character death.
Her voice stopped mid-sentence, replaced with the crack of rifle fire, the echo along the rooftops making it hard to discern if there was one, or multiple shots. Tony flinched...not at the sound, but the liquid that simultaneously sprayed across his face and neck. Liquid, and heavier drops of something unfathomable.
He was instantly thrown back in time, the smell triggering a disjointed kaleidoscope of gory images flashing through his brain. Pacci, past partners' deaths, all the way back to the first, his mother. He'd been right next to her too as she'd died in their wrecked car. He'd been covered in her blood and just as powerless to prevent what had happened.
The renewed burst of adrenaline and cop's instinct kicked in. For the moment it was stronger than the need to react to the smell and taste of copper on his lips, the need to look down and see the spreading crimson pool he knew would be there. In sync with Gibbs, his arms came up, weapon ready and eyes scanning for the threat before he'd even realized they'd moved. It had to have been Ari.
He felt flashes of both indignation and annoyance as Gibbs moved into a protective stance in front of him, attempting to block the sniper's line of sight from the higher rooftop opposite theirs. Hell no. It was Gibb's own instinct taking control; determined to deny Ari another member of his team. Tony understood but he wouldn't stand for it, just the same.
Tony heard Gibbs' hiss of frustration as he stepped in full view alongside the lead agent, defiant and daring Ari to take a shot at him too. Why not me…why her? There were no answers, only a silence that stretched on as their SIGs pointed uselessly at the nearby rooftop. Ari was probably long gone, having achieved his goal. He'd used Kate to score a direct hit on Gibbs, Tony himself having been discounted as unimportant to that end.
Adrenaline faded as that realization set in. As it began to wear off, every muscle in Tony's body chimed in to remind him of his recent illness, and injury from trying to outrun a bomb. Was that only hours ago? Tony felt cold as he lowered suddenly leaden arms, and was dimly aware he might be falling into shock. He holstered his weapon before the growing numbness in his limbs made him drop it.
Tony turned away from Gibbs, moving unsteadily back toward where Kate lay, absently noting the pool of blood around her head was larger than he'd expected. His eyes found hers, the once bright hazel orbs now glazed and staring up sightlessly, accusingly… accompanied by the neat, round hole in her forehead.
The smell triggered sense memory again and Tony squeezed his eyes shut as the back of Kate's head disintegrating in a cloud of red replayed in his vision. How was he supposed to cope this time...go back to his usual routine after something like this? He didn't know right now. What he did know was he couldn't ignore the protests of his body any longer. His legs folded and he sat next to her, unable to stop the memories of blood and death repeating in an endless loop, until gentle hands on his shoulders and a compelling voice pulled him back to the present.
"Tony, listen to me," the soft voice urged. "Wherever you've gone in your head, we need you now. I need you back," the voice added, somehow pleading and demanding at the same time.
Tony had never denied that voice anything it had asked of him; he wasn't about to start today. He opened his eyes to see Gibbs' worried face looming in his blurry vision. He was cold still; everyplace except where Gibbs' hands still grasped his shoulders, grounding him.
"You with me?" Gibbs asked.
Tony nodded numbly as he struggled to find his voice. He heard sirens wailing in the distance now, and McGee's tinny calls over their radios. He sounded on the verge of panic, having just been under fire himself earlier and desperate to know if they were okay. They weren't and Tony wasn't sure how they ever would be.
Tony hung his head. "I don't know what comes next, Boss," he admitted in a hoarse whisper, a multitude of meanings in the simple admission.
He felt Gibbs place a finger under his chin and gently lift his head up. Tony's nose wrinkled at the smell assaulting his senses again and he reached a hand toward his face, only to be stopped by Gibbs' warm grasp around his wrist. Gibbs looked grim as he studied Tony's blood streaked features, evidence of exactly how close he'd been standing to Kate.
"Don't."
Gibbs' worried face morphed to one even more rarely seen, full of empathy and understanding. Unsurprisingly, he seemed to get what Tony was wrestling with. Gibbs cocked his head, listening to the sirens growing louder and gauging how far away they were. "We have a few minutes…go inside and wash your face, Tony," the calm voice guided. Then he helped pull Tony to his feet, not letting go until he was satisfied Tony would be staying upright.
Tony nodded his agreement as he rose, studiously avoiding looking at Kate again. He didn't want to remember her this way.
Gibbs' eyes did flick down briefly, then the righteous anger was back on his face, and the promise of retribution.
"As for what comes next, we find that bastard Ari. But first we get Ducky here and take care of Kate."
This Gibbs was familiar, unlike the one of moments ago. They all had their crutches and coping mechanisms. No doubt they would come into play in the dark, late hours when they were home alone. There would be time for that later. Gibbs had told him what came next and given him a direction to go. He latched onto that like a lifeline, trusting it to guide him unerringly, like a compass always pointing north. Having grasped at the familiar, he felt something start to settle inside him. It would have to be enough.
End