Title: One's Greatest Fear
Author: Trekbones
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst and no real character death
Spoilers: None really
Pairings: No Romance
Disclaimer: I have now nor have I ever owned NCIS. CBS and its creators do. But should the show ever go on sale, I'll get as many fans together to help buy it. Then we could share the characters. But I get Mark Harmon/Gibbs first. But then I'll share.
Gibbs was consumed with grief. Kate was dead. He had failed her. Tony was dying. He had failed him. He had failed his team. More than that he had failed those closest to him. Tony and Kate were family to him and he had failed them. His anguish poured out through every cell of his body till it completely enveloped him. He didn't want to take another breath. He didn't deserve to take another breathe. He didn't deserve to live.
Kate was dead because of him. Tony was nearly dead because of him. Gibbs prayed to God to take him now. Grief and guilt dominated Gibbs' soul and took him to their underworld to torture him with 'what if's' and 'what might have beens.' What if he had know? What if he had listened to Kate instead of ignoring her? What if Tony had continued pushing the point? What if Kate had managed to get off a shot? What if Tony and Kate hadn't left when they did? What if he wasn't such a bastard to them and them in? What ifs and what might have beens could not console a dead man. And they cannot bring back the dead.
The damage to Tony's body was irreparable. Gibbs stood next to his bed, watching Tony gasp his last breathes on earth. Tony quit breathing. The heart monitor flat-lined. Tony was dead.
Kate was dead. The image of her broken body branded into his memory forever. Tony was dead. His last breathes the death rattle he would hear for eternity. He was dead. He was lost without them.
Waves of inconsolable grief and anguish crashed into Gibbs, drowning him.
Gibbs wept. Kate and Tony were dead. His life was over. He didn't know how to go on. He saw the barrel of the gun right between his eyes. The last sound Gibbs ever heard was the click of a trigger being pulled . . .
Ducky sighed and wearily rubbed a hand over his face. He may be a doctor but he still hated waiting and the sounds of hospitals. Waiting for a man who may or may not wake up, according to men who looked more like they belonged in the Boy Scouts rather than as a doctor in a hospital, was time consuming and draining on his whole being.
Gibbs was in a coma and the doctors attending to him didn't have much faith in Gibbs waking up at all. They even have the nerve, to Ducky's disgust, to suggest taking Gibbs off life support. Ducky would never do that.
Jethro was a bastard and a fighter and would never give up. Neither would Ducky for his friend. Jethro would show those doctors. Now if he would only do it sooner, Ducky mused.
Ducky wondered what was going on in Jethro's mind. He knew that coma patients could possibly hear and possibly even dream during their coma. Ducky had quit talking a while ago after finding it awkward talking to a man he was used to seeing in motion, usually involving a cup of coffee. He hoped his friend wasn't having nightmares because they wouldn't be conducive to the healing process or his state of mind when he woke up. And after what had happened to put Jethro in the hospital, Ducky's hope against nightmares was slim.
THE END
Author: Trekbones
Rating: PG
Warnings: Angst and no real character death
Spoilers: None really
Pairings: No Romance
Disclaimer: I have now nor have I ever owned NCIS. CBS and its creators do. But should the show ever go on sale, I'll get as many fans together to help buy it. Then we could share the characters. But I get Mark Harmon/Gibbs first. But then I'll share.
Gibbs was consumed with grief. Kate was dead. He had failed her. Tony was dying. He had failed him. He had failed his team. More than that he had failed those closest to him. Tony and Kate were family to him and he had failed them. His anguish poured out through every cell of his body till it completely enveloped him. He didn't want to take another breath. He didn't deserve to take another breathe. He didn't deserve to live.
Kate was dead because of him. Tony was nearly dead because of him. Gibbs prayed to God to take him now. Grief and guilt dominated Gibbs' soul and took him to their underworld to torture him with 'what if's' and 'what might have beens.' What if he had know? What if he had listened to Kate instead of ignoring her? What if Tony had continued pushing the point? What if Kate had managed to get off a shot? What if Tony and Kate hadn't left when they did? What if he wasn't such a bastard to them and them in? What ifs and what might have beens could not console a dead man. And they cannot bring back the dead.
The damage to Tony's body was irreparable. Gibbs stood next to his bed, watching Tony gasp his last breathes on earth. Tony quit breathing. The heart monitor flat-lined. Tony was dead.
Kate was dead. The image of her broken body branded into his memory forever. Tony was dead. His last breathes the death rattle he would hear for eternity. He was dead. He was lost without them.
Waves of inconsolable grief and anguish crashed into Gibbs, drowning him.
Gibbs wept. Kate and Tony were dead. His life was over. He didn't know how to go on. He saw the barrel of the gun right between his eyes. The last sound Gibbs ever heard was the click of a trigger being pulled . . .
Ducky sighed and wearily rubbed a hand over his face. He may be a doctor but he still hated waiting and the sounds of hospitals. Waiting for a man who may or may not wake up, according to men who looked more like they belonged in the Boy Scouts rather than as a doctor in a hospital, was time consuming and draining on his whole being.
Gibbs was in a coma and the doctors attending to him didn't have much faith in Gibbs waking up at all. They even have the nerve, to Ducky's disgust, to suggest taking Gibbs off life support. Ducky would never do that.
Jethro was a bastard and a fighter and would never give up. Neither would Ducky for his friend. Jethro would show those doctors. Now if he would only do it sooner, Ducky mused.
Ducky wondered what was going on in Jethro's mind. He knew that coma patients could possibly hear and possibly even dream during their coma. Ducky had quit talking a while ago after finding it awkward talking to a man he was used to seeing in motion, usually involving a cup of coffee. He hoped his friend wasn't having nightmares because they wouldn't be conducive to the healing process or his state of mind when he woke up. And after what had happened to put Jethro in the hospital, Ducky's hope against nightmares was slim.
THE END