The grey winter skies were heavy and leaden, promising snow before days' end. A cold brisk wind blew forlornly through the cemetery, whistling around the silent grave stones that stood like sentinels in the quiet yard. A figure in a long black trench coat stood, huddled deep into the garment to escape the biting winds. As the remaining dry leaves in the branches of the trees overhead whispered quietly, the man squatted slowly beside a shiny, obviously new headstone. His face was reflected in the black granite; his hair ruffled by the breeze. Tony DiNozzo was quiet as he studied the name etched into the tombstone's black face.
"Kaitlyn Tate".
The name was familiar, an old friend. But seeing it brought back memories; memories too painful to face now, yet he knew he had to. It had been almost six months since Kaitlyn had been taken from them. From the team, her co-workers at NCIS, her friends. From him. He'd never come out and told her how he really felt about her; he always expected there to be tomorrow. Now as he reached out and traced Kate's name on the stone, Tony tried to face facts. There was no tomorrow for them. For he and Kate. Like the smoke from a distant fire, their tomorrows were unreachable, untouchable; and irretrievable. There was nothing he could do. God, how Tony wished he could relive that fateful day. If it were possible, he would know the outcome and he could have stepped in front of Kate, taken the bullet meant for her, and saved her life. Yes, it would have cost him his own, but then he wouldn't have to be in the position he was now. Lost. Left behind. Hurting beyond all comprehension.
Tony never cried. In fact, he'd always snickered at his friends when ever they'd shown any sort of tender emotion. Until now. During the months since Kate's death, Tony had spent many long, sleepless nights in the quiet darkness of his bedroom as the memories flooded his mind like water through a broken levee. Now, as he stared at her grave stone, the tears came again, unbidden. And, unwelcome.
"Kate," Tony whispered, his voice breaking, "a thousand times I've wished you back, and I can't accept you are gone. We could have had something; we did have something." He was silent as he thought to himself,
"We could've had so much more, but now we'll never know."
Pressing his fingers against his eyes, Tony tried to stem the tears, but they fell through, and dropped onto Kate's grave. Tony picked up the bouquet of flowers beside him. He brought them to her every week; two dozen deep red roses. He knew the symbolism behind them. He knew red roses signified true love. But they were the only way he knew of now to show his feelings for Kate. The woman who shared his life in the office, and the one he wished so desperately could share his life now. Carefully, he placed the roses up against the black granite, his hands shaking as he steadied the soft blooms in their place.
"Kate, I never told you when you were here," he said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand, "it sucks to have to tell you now, when you can't even hear me; when I can't see your face." Tony's words were choked off by the sob that clawed its way viciously up his throat. Breathing deeply, he began again.
"If I could have you back for one minute, I'd spend every second of it telling you, showing you, how much I really loved… do love you," he finished, touching her name again.
Standing, Tony pulled the collar of his coat closer against his neck, as if it would somehow block out the cold emptiness in his soul.
"As long as I live, Kate, I'll never stop loving you. I promise."
Turning, Tony walked slowly away from her grave; never looking back, never breaking stride. A piece of his heart was gone; buried forever with Kate.