Sorry for the delay in posting - real life likes to get in the way sometimes. Here's two chapters today to make up for it.
Chapter Four
February 5, 2011 – 12:01am
Jimmy awoke slowly, fighting consciousness every step of the way. He wasn't ready to wake up yet; he wasn't ready to face cold reality. He tried to empty his mind, to forget, but an avalanche of memories hovered just over him, threatening to fall; and he knew he couldn't put off much longer the memory of …
He rolled to his side and hid his head in his arms, curling in on himself in a familiar defensive posture. But nothing could shield the blows coming at him now, for they came from within his own mind. The bodies of his friends… Ducky's face as he begged Director Vance to let them stay… those images, and many that were far more graphic, from TV and from the scene of the disaster, assaulted Jimmy mercilessly.
But worst was the realization that he'd never see Tony again, never feel his arms around him, never again hear his voice… A sob escaped his lips; then, with a wail of anguish, Jimmy broke down and cried. He'd never felt so desolate – not when Michelle was shot, for their relationship had ended months before; not even when his father died, though he'd been just old enough to understand what death meant. This – it felt like a piece of Jimmy's soul had been ripped away, and he didn't know how he was supposed to face the rest of his life without –
The bed he was lying on shifted, and Jimmy had just enough awareness to wonder where he was and who'd put him to bed. Then a pair of arms wrapped around him from behind, and a familiar voice breathed in his ear –
"Jimmy? What's wrong? Are you okay?"
Jimmy froze, hardly daring to believe what he'd just heard. He was afraid he was hallucinating, but the warm body pressed against his back felt real, as did the strong arms that held him tight. Slowly, holding his breath, he turned in those arms and opened his eyes –
And saw Tony's worried green eyes looking back at him.
Jimmy drew in a shaky breath. "Tony?" he whispered. He reached hesitantly for his lover, as if afraid the other man would vanish into insubstantial mist.
But instead of disappearing, Tony pulled him closer, pressing a soft kiss into his hair, as he had countless times before when Jimmy would wake him up. "What's wrong, Jimmy?" he asked, stroking his fingers across Jimmy's tear-streaked cheek. "I thought you were done having nightmares…?"
"I –" Jimmy shook his head; why did that seem so familiar? The image of Tony standing in the bedroom doorway asking that very question flashed into Jimmy's mind. It was followed by a succession of other images – Gibbs' watch, Ziva's burned body, Fornell being loaded onto a stretcher, Ducky's face, Tim, Tony –
A pained cry burst from his lips, and a moment later Jimmy's face was buried in Tony's shoulder, his arms wrapped tightly around the man he thought he'd lost forever.
"Shh, shh, it's okay," Tony murmured, rocking his lover gently in his arms. "I've got you, you're okay…"
Jimmy struggled to speak through the sobbing that he couldn't control. "I thought I'd lost you," he choked. "You, Tim, everyone – you were all –" He couldn't bring himself to finish, to say the word.
"Shh, Jimmy, no." Tony slid one hand under Jimmy's chin and forced the younger man's head up. "Look at me, Jimmy. I'm right here." He waited until Jimmy's hazel eyes met his. "It's okay, Jimmy. It was just a dream."
But Jimmy's eyes seemed to glaze over, as if what he saw in his mind's eye blocked his view of reality. Tony had seen him like this before; he knew what he needed to do. Reluctantly, he pulled himself free from Jimmy's tight embrace and sat up in the bed, then reached down and pulled Jimmy up with him. It was too easy for Jimmy to get caught up in his nightmares; what he needed was something to ground him in the real world.
Tony found their discarded clothes and quickly pulled his on, then coaxed Jimmy into getting dressed. Jimmy recognized the trick and tried to stay focused, but part of him still feared to accept that this, and not the other, was his reality. He was afraid that at any moment, Ducky would snap him out of this hallucination…
Tony took his hands and urged him to his feet, then led him out into the living room. Jimmy glanced toward the kitchen as he shuffled along after Tony and saw the dishes still stacked next to the sink, waiting for him to become desperate enough to wash them. He stopped and stared. He clearly remembered washing the dishes, but if they were still dirty…
"Jimmy?" Tony's voice interrupted his thoughts. "Come on…"
Jimmy let Tony guide him to the couch and push him down into a seated position, but his mind was still working on the puzzle –
The puzzle. The jigsaw puzzle that he'd been working on wasn't on the coffee table. Jimmy closed his eyes to better focus on the facts. If the puzzle wasn't here, the dishes were still dirty, and Tony really was here, then…
"Jimmy, talk to me." Jimmy opened his eyes to see Tony kneeling in front of him. Tony's hands came up to touch either side of Jimmy's face; he wouldn't allow Jimmy to turn away. "Tell me what's going on in there."
"It… it was a dream," Jimmy whispered, as if just coming to the realization. "I thought it was real… it felt so real…"
Tony brushed back a bit of Jimmy's hair with gentle fingers. "Will you tell me about it?" he asked quietly.
Jimmy looked down at his hands as he thought back to the dream, it was just a dream. "You got called in to work, and I couldn't sleep. I – I swear I can remember every minute of it. I mean, I remember washing the dishes and cleaning the toilet –"
"Urgh, sounds like a nightmare to me," Tony teased, bringing a tiny smile to Jimmy's lips. But the smile faded as Jimmy continued, telling his lover about the news report that he'd seen, and all its gory details. By the time he reached the part about going to the scene and meeting up with Ducky, he'd started to shake; when he talked about helping with Fornell, his heart was racing and he was struggling for breath. He didn't want to remember the next part…
As bad as it was, Tony knew from Jimmy's reaction that the worst part was yet to come. He moved from the floor to the couch, where he could pull Jimmy up against him. He wanted to spare his lover, but he also knew that Jimmy needed to face his fear; so he decided on a compromise. "So how did I die?" he asked, cutting to the heart of it.
Jimmy flinched. "Asphyxia, I think. You and McGee both. There weren't any major wounds, but you were buried under part of the building, so…"
"And then?"
"And then I woke up."
"And I was right here… right?"
Jimmy nodded.
"It was just a dream, Jimmy, I promise." Tony gave him a little squeeze. "I'm still breathing."
Jimmy closed his eyes and leaned against Tony, trying to relax, though he couldn't quite ride himself of a lingering sense of unease. "I know it was a dream, but – but it was so vivid! And detailed. And –"
Tony silenced Jimmy with a finger pressed against his lips. "Let it go, Jimmy," he said firmly. "The longer you dwell on it, the longer it'll take to get past it." He sat up and searched for the remote control on the coffee table. "Let's find something else for you to focus on for a bit."
Jimmy smiled slightly. "It'll just be infomercials and crappy movies on." He didn't need the memory of his dream to tell him that; that's all that was ever on in the middle of the night, at least on the channels that made up his basic cable package.
"Then we'll find something else." Tony got up and went to the pile of DVDs on Jimmy's desk. He'd brought over a good supply a couple of weeks earlier, but work had been so busy that they hadn't had much time to watch together. "Let's see… have you seen The Long Kiss Goodnight?"
"Not yet."
"Good. We got Geena Davis as an assassin, and Samuel L. Jackson as… well, as a Samuel L. Jackson character. If that doesn't take your mind off things, I don't know what –"
In the bedroom, Tony's cell phone began to ring.