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End it all

Tony sat in his empty apartment. Staring at the almost empty bottle of scotch. He had lost count of how much he had drunk. It didn't really matter. No matter how much it was it simply wasn't enough. He wanted to forget. He wanted to get so drunk his mind would be a blur. But it wasn't working. It never worked. He simply couldn't forget.

He opened the bottle and poured out another glass. He had no idea how long he had been sitting there. It didn't matter. There was nobody waiting for him. Nobody cared. He could still hear Gibbs scream at him. Telling him he was an idiot. Ziva wondering to McGee why he was on the team. One little mistake.

He took a sip of the glass. He needed to clear his head. He needed to forget. He opened the bottle again. There was nothing in anymore. Empty bottle of scotch. Did he really drink all of that? Why hadn't he passed out yet? Why did he still remember?

Slowly he got up. He couldn't walk anymore. But somehow he still got to the closet. He had nothing. No alcohol. Noting to forget. Just one more beer. He sat down on the couch. Staring at the empty glass. He didn't know what to do anymore. He was falling. Falling and there was nobody left to catch him.

He grabbed the glass and threw it away. The glass scattered all around the room. He didn't notice. He didn't care. Slowly he got up and picked up the glass. It cut his hand. He didn't care. He wanted to feel. He wanted somebody to show up. He'd even take Sacks now. Anybody.

Getting up he walked to his room. Leaving the glass scattered on the ground. The empty bottle of scotch on the table. The lights on. The TV playing. He didn't notice. He didn't care. He sat down at his bed. Slowly he opened the drawer of the bed side table. His gun. His badge. His life.

He lied down on the bed. He closed his eyes. Kate smiling at him. Kate by his side. Kate dead on the ground. Paula who was by his side. Paula running to the wall. Jeanne who loved him. Jeanne who held him. Jeanne who was now gone. Gibbs forgetting him. His stuff on his desk like it was garbage. Ziva laughing with him. McGee making fun of him. Ducky laughing. Abby not caring. Gibbs telling him he was an idiot. Ziva wondering why…

He sat up. He couldn't close his eyes. He couldn't do anything. They didn't care. Nobody cared. Slowly he looked at the pictures on the bed side table. He grabbed the picture of his team. His family. How happy they looked. It was just a picture. A snapshot of a moment. A moment that was not real. He suddenly felt anger overpower him.

He threw it away. The frame broke in a million pieces. Shattered. Just like the team. His so called friends. Shattered. Nothing left. Nothing but pieces. Pieces of something that had once been. But was now gone. Maybe it had never been there. Maybe nobody had really cared. He grabbed the next picture. His college buddies. None of them remained. The picture hit the wall. Broken. Million pieces. Just like his life. Just like his heart.

He placed his head in his arms. Suddenly he noticed his hand was bleeding. Probably from the broken glass outside. It didn't matter. He didn't feel it. He wished he couldn't feel anything. Feel nothing. That's what he wanted. But it didn't happen. It would never happen. He closed his eyes. And opened them almost immediately. Try not to remember. Try to forget. He grabbed the next picture. Ready to throw it away.

He looked at it. And stopped. It was an old picture. Taken years ago. Him and Kate. Both of them together. And he remembered her. He smiled. He took the next picture. Paula. It was a picture of her alone. And the next was one of Jeanne. She smiled nervously at the camera. And then there was one of him and Jeanne. Slowly he laid them down on the bed. Next to each other. Four pictures. Three persons.

And he remembered. They had cared about him. They were his friends. His family. His love. Kate was always laughing with him. Always joking. Making fun. But she was always there when he needed her. Always by his side. She had his back. Always.

She was there when he caught the plague. She had lied to him to stay by his side. To make sure he wasn't alone. She slept in the same room that night. She brought him food every day. She watched movies with him. They had been good friends. She had been the only one who cared enough to stay by his side. But now she was gone. Taken from him.

And then there was Paula. They had been good together. But not as a couple. Paula had been right. They were to much alike. They loved hanging out together. But just as friends. There could never have been something more. She was the one who sat by his side the night Kate had died. She was the only one who asked him how he was doing. She was the one who called every night for four months after Kate died just to make sure he was alright.

She had cared. She had been by his side when he needed her. And he had been by her side. She was the reason he had told Jeanne he loved her. Life's to short not to tell somebody you love them if you do. He looked at the picture. She had cared about him. But she was also gone. Taken from him.

And then there was Jeanne. She was beautiful. Just like Kate. And nice. He remembered everything about her. Her laugh. Her hair. Her lips. Her eyes. The way she woke up in the morning. The way she kissed. The way she smiled at him when she saw him. The way she cared about her patients. The way she cared about him.

He remembered everything they had shared. She could see right trough him. She cared about him. She knew when to hold him. She knew when to leave him alone. She was always by his side. She cared about him. But she was also gone. Taken from him. And it was all his fault. He should have just said no to the director. But he did try to get out of it. He told Jenny he was in over his head. But she didn't care. Just like the rest of them.

And he sat there. Staring at the pictures. Remembering them. He didn't hear anything else. He didn't car about anything else. Three persons. Four pictures. Was this really his life? Were this the only ones who cared? Did none of the other? Did they ever care? Did Gibbs ever?

Flashback

He was lying on the bed. Dying. He knew he was. No matter what Brad told him. He didn't mind the blue. Not anymore. He actually like it. He took slow breaths. Just like nurse Emma told him to. She was beautiful. But he didn't care. He wanted Kate by his side.

He heard the doors open. Brad and Emma were suddenly gone. He closed his eyes. Ready to drift away. 'Tony listen to me. Are you listening.' He had never felt so relieved to hear his boss voice. He had trouble breathing. Talking didn't seem like a good idea. But not answering Gibbs was an even worse idea. 'I'm listening boss.' 'You will not die you got that?' He heard him. But he didn't believe him. He closed his eyes. He felt a soft tap on his head. His eyes flew open. 'I said you will not die.'' I Gotcha boss'

End flashback

He had cared once. Gibbs. In that blue room he had cared. He had cared when he disappeared. He had cared so many years ago. But not anymore. He had stopped caring after he got blown up. Maybe he had never cared. Maybe he had just felt guilty. Guilty he didn't open the letter. Guilty he let him go alone to that bar. He didn't care. Not now. Maybe he never had.

He didn't even notice he took the gun. It lied in front of him. And he just sat there. Probably for hours. He didn't know how late it was. He didn't care. His hand was still bleeding his apartment was a mess. But he didn't care. He stared at the pictures. He stared at the gun. His life. Was this really all of it? Four pictures. And a bunch of memories.

Slowly he took the bullets out of the gun. And he stared at them. And he wondered. How something so little could end his suffering. Give him a new life. End all the pain. Slowly he placed them back in the gun. And he sat there. Staring at the pictures. Staring at the gun. Remembering. He felt the tears well up in his eyes. But he remained there. Staring.

In the distance he could hear the phone ring. It didn't matter. It wouldn't be important. He heart the answering machine go on. He thought he recognized Abby's voice. He didn't care. He just sat there. It didn't matter. Nothing mattered anymore.

His cell phone rang. It was on the bed side table. He picked it up. He looked at the caller ID. Boss. He kept looking at it. The phone kept ringing. He had never ignored a phone call from his boss. Never. He had to be dead. Dying. Or suicidal. But he was. Slowly he put the phone down. It stopped ringing. Voice mail. He didn't even know if Gibbs had ever left him a message. He didn't even know if Gibbs knew what a voice mail was. Didn't matter.

He picked up the gun. He stared at the pictures. Kate. Paula. Jeanne. Three persons. The only ones who really cared. Three of them. And they were all gone. Dead. Or just disappeared. Jeanne was never coming back. He knew that. Even if she still loved him. Even if she knew he loved her. She wouldn't come back. She just wouldn't.

And Kate and Paula. Dead. Never to come back. He looked at the gun. One shot. One shot and he'd be with them. Together. With people who cared about him. He could just go. He closed his eyes. He heart the phone ring again. He didn't care. Part of him wanted to pick up. But he didn't. He remained there. Staring at the pictures.

He lifted the gun. He felt the cold gun against his warm head. He looked at the pictures again.

Jeanne. "I love you. Know you have to figure out if you feel the same way." " I love you Jeanne." She held him close to her. I love you. He kissed her. She gave him the bracelet. She smiled at him.

Paula. 'We're to much alike.' ' When did you become so caring?' ' Life's to short not to tell someone you love them if you really do'. She smiled at him. She gave him a hug after Kate died. She cheered him up. She was amazed when he found the secret door. She smiled at him. She saved him.

Kate. Kate asked him how he got into NCIS. Kate smiled at him. He threw food at her, she threw it back. They fought. She elbowed him. She came up from behind the shower curtain. They pretended to be a couple. She thanked him when he took her to Paraguay. She smiled at him. She was by his side when he caught the plague. She didn't care if she could get sick to.

By his side. Caring. The three of them. He could be back with Paula and Kate. Just one shot.

He closed his eyes. He remembered them. Paula. Jeanne. Kate. The three of them. He couldn't forget them. He could never forget them. He placed his finger on the trigger.

He took a deep breath. Ready to do it. Ready to end it all. Ready to be with someone who cared. They wouldn't miss him. They just wouldn't.

He was ready. Ready to end it all.