Wow.
Last chapter got amazing response.
Thank you all so much, that was a very hard chapter to write. And I'm so happy with the response it got. I am truly blessed to have such amazing readers:D
And this chapter is for earanemith, because her youtube video of this song kept me inspired
"I used to believe in love, I used to believe in fate, I used to believe that I could find my way. I used to believe in miracles. I used to believe in God above, now I see my faith has been betrayed…And if I find a way to make it all seem right, you would still be gone, and I'd be here alone…All these tears can't wash away, the pain I keep inside…and I can pray but it won't change, the way I felt before…All that's left is emptiness and darkness fills the light."- I Don't Believe It Anymore, Cote DePablo
There was no music.
One light.
And the soft hum of a few machines.
He called out her name, but it only echoed against the steel surfaces, returning immediately back towards him.
Abby didn't answer, she sat against the wall in the ballistics room, Bert and he legs hugged tightly against her chest. She never answered, but he still found a way to find her.
When he did, her eyes were smudged with black eyeliner and she was shaking. "What's wrong?" His voice lacked in concern.
"She's gone isn't she?" Abby's voice cracked as she spoke, her head sunk deeper into her legs.
He leaned against the wall beside her, slowly sinking down to the floor, until he was bunched up next to her. As soon as his shoulder hit hers, she dropped her head on his shoulder. He couldn't even bear to say the words, to speak the truth.
Yes.
Instead, he asked a question, but it confirmed her suspicions.
"How'd you know?" he asked softly.
She unraveled her fists, which was tightly clenched against her chest, reveling Ziva's necklace. "She left this…in my lab." By now, tears were streaming down her face, but she held in the sobs she so desperately wanted to let out.
A little part of McGee was almost happy he didn't have to break the news to Abby. He didn't have to trudge into her lab, watching her absently bounce to the music blasting from the speakers. She didn't have to turn around and see the weary face he wouldn't even try to hide. He didn't have to catch her as she broke down at his words, because she wouldn't believe it until he said it.
It was her final act of kindness towards them.
She was dead.
And yet she was still beautiful.
Her body lay lifeless on the cold slab; her dark curls pillowed her head. The color had drained from her delicate face, giving her lips a light purple hue. And although her cancer was evident in death, with her skin taking the shape of the ribs in her chest and the dark circles beneath her eyes even darker, she was still beautiful.
Tony was afraid to touch her; afraid to feel the empty coldness of her skin instead of the warm he wanted to be surrounded in.
He swallowed hard, gently placing his harm hand over her icy one.
He shivered.
Autopsy was colder than usual. But he didn't wonder why; he knew why.
He heard her voice.
She's safe now Tony. There's no pain here.
"Thanks." His lips twitched into a second long-half smile.
A silent tear crawled down his face.
He stroked her hand gently with his finger, mentally pleading her to warm up, to grab his hand, to breathe.
He nodded, accepting that that was not going to happen. His eyes closed; when they opened, they were filled with tears. He fought them back, an inner battle that he eventually lost.
He slid down the side of the autopsy table, his head making a distinct thumping sound against the steel when he sat down on the floor.
Tony closed his eyes, never wanting to wake, but tomorrow would come.
Unfortunately.
It was a Tuesday, and he dreaded Wednesday.
It meant that life would go on; it meant that he had to go on.
Her death was still fresh in his mind. The moments leading up to it still lingering in his thoughts and nightmares that would soon follow the many sleepless nights he would spend tossing and turning.
He couldn't believe it.
How could this day have come so fast?
He only had three months with her; 92 days with her.
It wasn't enough.
Nothing would be enough.
And she just expected him to move on?
How could he find love when he had just lost it?
Forever.
How could he just sit at his desk every day, staring at the emptiness that would soon occupy Ziva's desk? And after that, how could he even look at the new agent, laughing, eating, working, breathing at Ziva's desk.
She was gone.
Why was he so surprised?
He knew what he was getting himself into. He knew she was dying; he knew this day would come.
What if he had decided not to? Not to love her; to just support her as a friend, be there when she needed him and nothing more.
Or if he had decided to love her sooner? To have more time; to notice the disease.
No, she could have hid it from him anyway, she would have told him everything was fine.
There was no creating a perfect world in this situation.
Because perfection does not exist.
A kind hand woke up Tony.
His back ached as much as his heart.
"My dear boy it is late." Ducky looked down at him, his hand around his shoulder.
He let out a tired moan. "Ducky." He said tiredly. Looking around him he found he was still in autopsy, on the floor, Ziva's body lying peacefully above him. "What are you doing here?"
"I came to get my coat. Anthony, you need to go home, get some rest." Tony rubbed his eyes, slowing getting up.
He turned around, looking down at Ziva's body one last time. The Israeli beauty perfectly still on the table, the red stitches catching his eyes.
Ducky could see the lack of emotion on his face, but the emotions and thoughts running through his head were apparent in his empty stare.
"She felt no pain, not with all the pain medication she was taking. Actually, she would have felt a little numb, but not much pain. She went quickly…death was kind to her." he explained.
His face did not show the smidge of relief he was feeling.
Ducky took a breath, shifting his weight. "The cancer was more severe than I first assumed. It was a miracle she was even able to shoot." He paused. "She would have been gone by the end of the week, if that long."
"And her lung tumor, twice the size of what she perceived it to be. Or perhaps she knew that…" he lost himself in thought while Tony kept his trance locked on Ziva.
"She could have shot him. She had her gun, enough bullets, enough time…" Tony shook his head, fighting back more tears.
"She saved you." he stated. "And in a way…you saved her."
But Tony didn't know what to believe anymore.
I hope that made somewhat sense, the last line and such.
Its kinda late, and I really wanted to get this chapter out. Its pretty short, but that's cause the next one is really long. So I'm gunna spend most of Sunday and maybe a little of Monday on it. So hopefully Monday night or Tuesday.
So…review? Favorite line(s)?