The four of them race out of the office, Tony in the lead.
The ride to Tony's house takes forever, even with the lights and sirens going. Tony can't sit still. He continuously calls Katrina's phone, desperately trying to contact the young woman. There's no response. Abby reports to Varga that Katrina's phone is still pinging inside the house.
Tony prays that Katrina is still alive. She's not unharmed, her short conversation with Nimoy told him that, but he'll settle for alive right now.
They arrive at the house, and the front door is wide open. Tony heart is in his throat as he leaps from the SUV, drawing his gun in one smooth motion.
"NCIS!" Tony shouts, charging at the door. He barely waits for Gibbs to cover him before he storms into his own house. "Katrina? Katrina! Answer me!" He vaguely hears his team shouting clear as they move methodically through the house.
Katrina is nowhere to be found.
Tears are running down Tony's face as he curls into himself. He staggers, slipping to the floor. His eyes find McGee's. McGee shrinks from the desperation he sees in those dark eyes. Tony can't take this, not his family, not Katrina.
Gibbs falls to his knees next to Tonh. He wraps his hands around Tony's shoulders, turning the stricken man towards him.
"Hey, hey, Tony. Look at me. Look at me." He waits until Tony's head slowly swivels towards him. He barely hides a flinch at the desolation in Tony's face. "That's it. We are going to find her. We don't ... we don't know anything yet. Okay? Hang in there. Hang in there."
Tony stares at him for a long moment. Then he looks back up at McGee. His voice is dead, but firm as ever:
"Tear this place apart."
Bastiana sat on the chair of her office. She was watching the sunset below the horizon. The stars were beginning to take their place in the sky. He breathed the air in. She'd always loved this time of day. It calmed her, and right now she desperately needed that peace. Today had been a long and surprising day.
Bastiana hasn't talked to anyone since that night. She doesn't ate, she felt sick when she even thought about food. She doesn't drunk, not even whiskey. She barely left her office, can't seem to make herself move. She hasn't slept at all, can't made her mind shut off long enough. Bastiana knew she's broken, but she don't have the strength to care to fix it. Her mind was set on black eyes, dark hair and an expensive suit. She couldn't stop thinking about how the man did that to her, coming back.
For the first week, it had been heartbreaking, a period of grief and mourning, the second had been denial.
The second week was emptiness.
It felt like a light had been put out from firm's fine structure, everyone feeling the absence of Bastiana deep inside their bones as she had withdrawn mostly into herself, completing her duties with her entire attention placed on it, not daring to let her mind linger elsewhere.
The assistants had taken the trials themselves, when Bastiana couldn't bother to go out there. With constant piles of work weighing down on her shoulders, Bastiana, for once, truly felt what it was like to be manager and name partner. Knowing it would only get worse as time went on was little reassurance.
Amy couldn't look her mother in the eye for a week after the incident, and even now, Bastiana could see the worry written on her features every time Amy looked at her.
Her thoughts had been cut from stealthy footstep sounded from the left side corridor and she looked at the clock 12:54 In midday, she put down the book to walk to the door but she could not understand who she could visit except her siblings and groaned at this thought.
The footstep grew louder and louder, and what Bastiana saw next made her heart stop.
Into the doorway stepped edea, rugged and ragged, but very much alive, standing there as if nothing had happened at all. He was dressed in a dark, charcoal gray suit with a matching vest and a midnight black dress shirt underneath. He had no tie on, with the top two buttons of his dress shirt undone, allowing a tantalizing view if his collarbones.
He gave a wicked, smirk to her, and Bastiana was completely at a loss for words.
She rose from her seat, and simply stared. Two weeks ago, she'd been convinced she would never see him again. Sh had convinced herself that us was for the best , and now here he was, in the flesh-
"What you want?"
"What? I can't visit an old friend out of my kindness of my heart?"He nods, looking at the wooden desk.
"What did you do ?" Bastiana asked.
"You don't want to know," Bruce said grinning evilly.
"You're right, I don't," Bastiana said shuddering at the man."Can I get you a drink? Coffee? There's still some Scotch,"
"This isn't a social call, Bastiana." The man looked fucking amused and it was exasperating.
"We saw each other 4 hour ago"Bastiana said with a laugh. . "Poor baby , you miss me. I didn't know i was so important to you!"
Her words hung on the air like silver shards, leaving behind a moment of profound stillness.
"You are important to..."
Bastiana's response came before Bruce had even finished the sentence.
"Cutt this bullshit, Wayne!"
"You broke my heart!"
He looked down at the ground guilty and his own heart broke, knowing this was true. "I'm sorry."
"Sorry?" She shouted. "That's what you come up with?"
"I-I don't know what else to say," he admitted quietly. "I never meant to hurt you. You're the love of my life, Bastiana and my best friend. I didn't want to drive you away''
Bastiana couldn't believe what hee was hearing. Love of his life? Right. Best friend? In his dreams. Never meant to hurt hik? "All lies," she concluded in a completely calm voice that made the man step back some.
"No, Bastiana," he argued, lifting up his head and looking his in the saw the regret and misery in them. "It's the truth." Tears flooded his eyes as he mentally begged Bastiana to see the honesty.
"Don't try it," Bastiana hissed, finger nails digging into her palms. She usually wasn't violent, but she couldn't handle it. She just expects everything to be dandy between them? To hell if she would let him do anything to her again! "You're the reason I left. You're the reason that my heart broke"
Silent tears streamed down Bruce's face and she immediately felt so horrible for anything she ever did to him. "I-I never meant for this to happen."
"That doesn't matter! How you feel, what I feel about you..."
"Bastiana?"
Two pair of eyes snapped toward the source of the voice. Gibbs was at the doorframe of the office, his face has covered in the worrying expression.
"Am I interrupt something?"
Gibbs walked toward Bastiana,putting his hand behind her back.
"No," Bastiana answered the same time Bruce said, "Yes."
Gibbs's whole frame tenses but Bastiana immediately pushes against him in an unspoken 'Don't'.
"As I said before you don't need to say anything else."Bastiana continues blithely."There is nothing else we need to discuss, you made that message clear years ago"
"This is not over, Bastiana."Bruce says and took a step toward her."You know that..."
Gibbs strode forward and positioned himself between Bruce Wayne and Bastiana.
"I think you need to go!"
Bruce Wayne just looks at him but Gibbs can see the man's eyes harden at being cut off.
"This is not over"
Baatiana collapses on the couch put her hands over her face. Seeing him in front of her after years made her head and heart each.
It's supposed to be a love story; their story. Like the ones people read about and girls and women and hey, in all fairness probably a few men, swoon over. Person A meets person B and the stars collide, the earth moves and fate takes over. Happily ever after. But real life isn't fan fiction. It isn't wrapped in secret lusts and desires, beautifully hidden in coded print. Real life is messy and dare one say it, complicated.
She loved him with all her heart and soul, but the feelings were not mutual. She thought that she had found a man who would love her with her flaws and her past, who would stand by her side in difficult times. She had imagined a future with this man , but the same man broke her heart.
Not only broke her hart but bumped her without an explanation. She had screamed, begged and cried for an explanation but nothing. After a week ahe took the first flight for New York , by the time she got back to the city she was sick with it. Every mile away from him causing the ache to grow a little stronger.
She drank herself to death. It took the sting away. But it didn't ease the ache.
It didn't make her stop missing him.
She thought the first night would be the worst. If she could just make it through that. Then she told herself it would get better when she worked off her ass. By week three when the ache had taken up permanent residence right there underneath her breastbone, Bastiana resigned herself to carry it around with her.
"Bastiana!"
She stood up suddenly and looked at Gibbs, eyes blazing. The man expression was one of rarely-seen worry and Bastiana's gut seemed to twist.
"What is going on?"
''I dont want to hurt you' 'said Gibbs said, barely louder than a whisper. "But I have bad news "
An overwhelming sense of dread washes over her and settles her stomach and she swallows again, pressing her lips together into a tight line.
"What do you mean?" Sh asks, breathing through her mouth. "Bad news? About my son. He just phoned me, about half an hour ago. He—"
"No", Gibbs shakes her head. "No, I mean he's—" He takes another deep breath and breaks eye contact. "I don't talking about Tony. Your son is safe at the NCIS building" He falls silent and closes his eyes. After a couple of breaths he speaks again. "It about Katrina...—"
"Katrina", Bastiana interrupts sharply. "What are you talking about?"
"Bastiana, Katrina—" Gibbs tries again, but she interrupts him once more.
"No." She reaches for the edge of the desk.
She's cold and her palms are sweating. "No", she repeats. "Leory, please, no."
Gibbs nods. "Bastiana, I'm so so—"
"I—" Bastiana swallows. "What the fuck is happening?."
Katrina knows something is off the moment she closes the door to their condo. She feels something shift in the air, hears a small intake of breath, and she knows she's in danger. Katrina reaches for a gun.
She never makes it.
A solid wooden baseball bat connects with her upper arm. She can both feel and hear the bone break, a horrifically loud crack in the deafening silence of the room. She howls as pain lances up and down her arm. The next strike follows too quickly, and the bat connects with her knee. The pain is white hot, burning and searing its way around her knee. Katrina screams, and drops to the floor.
She curls in on herself, holding her arm close to her body and desperately trying to ease the pain in her knee. The next two blows connect with her exposed spine, sending both pain and fear racing through her veins. She has to protect her spine, has to keep her assailant from breaking her back. Horror thrums through her as another blow connects, this time with her lower back. God, please, no.
She ignores the pain in her body and flips himself over, shuffling back towards her couch, hiding her spine against the solid object. She is not stupid, she knows that protecting one area will just turn another part of her into a target, but she hopes -- prays -- that her attacker will have mercy.
The answer is no, and the bat slams down into her exposed stomach. She groans, curling into herself despite her desire to protect her spine. Once again the bat comes down, cracking against her already broken arm and shifting the bones. Pain overwhelms her, sparking white across her vision, and she blacks out.
The entire NCIS pours every ounce of themselves into finding Katrina Wolf. Tony commandeers half of the police force, sending most of them out on patrol and keeping in the brightest detectives to help with the the case. He paces, frets, and snaps at anyone who moves. No one blames him.
No one blames him, because they have nothing.
The hours tick down steadily. They sleep in shifts, or at least they pretend to sleep. They pour over every inch of evidence, Abby hacks into every corner of the men's digital lives. They narrow down a list of suspects from seven hundred to seven, but with only a few hours left on their clock, it's not enough time.
When the clock hits zero, Tony's fist slams into a wall.
The entire NCIS pours every ounce of themselves into finding Katrina Wolf. Tony commandeers half of the police force, sending most of them out on patrol and keeping in the brightest detectives to help with the the case. He paces, frets, and snaps at anyone who moves. No one blames him.
No one blames him, because they have nothing.
The hours tick down steadily. They sleep in shifts, or at least they pretend to sleep. They pour over every inch of evidence, Abby hacks into every corner of the men's digital lives. They narrow down a list of suspects from seven hundred to seven, but with only a few hours left on their clock, it's not enough time.
When the clock hits zero, Tony's fist slams into a wall.
Katrina, his precious Kqtrina, wife for just under 5 years now, is out somewhere in the cold and the ice, strung up like some horrible parody of a Nimoy's prize.
He's desperate, and the heady combination of emotional and physical pain is making him reckless. His heart is breaking with each breath he takes, his focus on Katrina like barbed wire squeezing slowly around his beating heart.
Katrinq – sweet, kind, gentle Katrina, who never lost her heart no matter how much the world threw at her. Katrina – so perfect with Jason, always willing to answer his questions about everything, always willing to read him one more bedtime story, always willing to pick him up and hold him Katrina, who loved Tony with a ferocity that surprised Tony daily, who made Tony feel whole and new and perfect again. Bringing Katrina into his lives and his home had been the best thing that Tony had ever done.
And now he stands to lose all of that.
Tony could feel fear engulfing him, swallowing and drowning him in its intensity.
He felt himself falling into an abyss, unable to escape, panic started to set in and his whole body became rigid, then, something else registered in his panicked mind. A soft voice calling his name.
"Tony!"
"Tony, its ok" the voice was louder this time, "Tony, come on, its ok, just focus on me, tune out everything but my voice and focus on me" Tony felt his senses coming back to him, he focused on the voice and was finally able to see the warm amber eyes locked with his own.
Bastiana saw his pupils shrink and his eyes focus slightly on hers. Keeping her eyes locked with his she moved closer so that her bent knees were almost touching his,
"Tony, just focus on my eyes and my voice" his eyes focused a bit more, but his body relaxed only slightly.
Bastiana was unprepared for the force with which Tony threw himself into her arms, but recovered quickly enough that they didn't go sprawling onto the ground. Wrapping her arms around him, she gently stroked his back, all the while whispering gently in his ear that it was ok, to let it all out and to take all the time he needed. Eventually his sobs ceased, though he still held to her tightly, as if afraid to lift his head and face her. Finally Tony pulled back and Bastiana felt him withdraw, not just physically but emotionally as well.
"Let's get you home", Bastiana says, running her hand over his arm. "Let's get you to bed or something and—"
"Okay", Tony answers and frowns at the sound of his voice. It sounds alien and as if it's coming from very, very far away.
Bastiana helps him rise from his chair and leads him around the desk. "I'll take care of that", she whispers when he looks back at the mess underneath it.
Tony nods again and closes his eyes. "Just— Get me out of here."
He doesn't care about the mess on the floor. He doesn't care about Bastiana's tears or even his own. He doesn't care about anything.
When Katrina comes to, it's to the sensation of someone sitting on hee hips, pressing hee into the floor. She's on his back, bruised spine aching as it's forced into the hardwood. Her knee is bent at a terrible angle, and her broken arm lies limply next to hee. Pain is the only thing he really knows -- it blurs her vision and makes her stomach roll with nausea.
The pain fades to the background, overtaken by a sudden, piercing sense of horror as she takes in the visage of her attacker.
Nimoy.
Oh God. Oh God, no.
She's had nightmares like this, except se's tied in the corner, watching Nimoy slide his knife in and out, in and out of Tony's body. She's had nightmares where Nimoy is covered in Tony's blood, still stabbing him, still laughing maniacally.
And now the man is on top of her.
Katrina shudders, and Nimoy grins.
"Katrina Bennett Wolf," he crows. "How lovely to meet you in person."
She stares at him, silent and unable to form a sentence over the pain and the fear.
"Tut tut, how rude, no greeting? I suppose we'll have to teach you a lesson then, young woman." Nimoy pulls out a knife, and Katrina goes rigid. "Oh, don't worry, I'm not going to do anything rash like stab you." He grins again. "Not yet, at least."
He trails the knife up Katrina's body, dragging it against her shirt, not hard enough to cut, but hard enough to Katrina to feel. She shudders again, her stomach muscles contracting to try and get away from the sensation. She fears it, fears this, fears feeling powerless yet again.
Suddenly, without warning, Nimoy slashes the knife across her broken arm. It bites through Katrina's shirt, slicing into her arm. Katrina arches away from the pain, crying out.
Mimoy grins. "That's better. It's good to hear from you, dear Wold."
With a sudden motion that terrifies Katrina, he brings the knife, point down, next to Katrina's head. It lodges itself in the floor, and Katrina whimpers in relief.
"Now, we've got to have a talk about what exactly we're going to do about SFA Antony Wolf." Nimoy cocks his head, considering Katrina like a bug under a microscope. "We just can't let him get away with everything he's done, now can we?"
Katrina grimaces. "Wh-why me? I'm n-not him?" She manages to get the words out around the pain that pulses through her.
Nimoy throws his head back and laughs. It's an ugly, terrifying sound, full of dark glee.
"Why because you, Katrina Wolf, are his heart." He sobers, his eyes glittering darkly. "And I intend to cut his heart to pieces."
Nimoy rips the knife out of the floor. He slams the butt of the knife into Katrina's head, and darkness pulls her under again.
"He is sleeping!"
It was the first thing that came out of Bastiana mouth after opening the door and saw Gibbs.
"Good!"
Was Gibbs saying while he walked into the condo. With the ease of familiarity, he pours them both a few fingers of scotch. After a brief pause, he adds another splash to one and hands that one to Bastiana.
"What the fuck, Leroy!"
Gibbs turns, angling his body towards her.
"What do you want from me?"
"The truth." Bastiana gave him a withering glare."Nobody tell me something those days.'
Gibbs makes a thoughtful, noncommittal noise into his drink, one Bastiana instinctively wants to follow up on.
"Maybe they are right because you will pull a Jack the Reaper them!"
If looks could kill, Gibbs must have been a dead man.
"You are fucking right!"She said standing up straight and glaring into Gibbs' eyes. "How dare they to lay a finger on my family , on my daughter. I will make them beg for me to kill them , beg me to end their miserable life and no nobody will stop me. Not you, not police , not even the God Himself."
Gibbs had always thought that the phrase went, hell hath no fury like a woman scorned. It was obvious that they had never met Bastiana. She was the embodiment of wrath right now. She'd never looked more beautiful, in Gibbs's eyes.
Gibbs grins back, something halfway contrite. "And this is the reason that nobody told you!"
Bastiana looks down at her drink, and downs the rest of it.
"Ate you ok?"Gibbs says worrying about the person in front of him.
"Of course not. My daughter in law is..."
"I am not talking about it!"
This has drawn attention of her.
"You fainted today. In my arms. In front of Bruce Wayne. I know that Ducky said that the faint was because of you been exhausting but I know it wasn't because of it."
Gibbs continues without Bastiana's input."You know him."he trails off."Tony knows him."
Bastiana considered the deep amber coloured liquid as she swirled it in her glass. If she didn't know better, she would think Gibbs might be upset with her recent chat with Bruce Wayne. But she did know better. Gibbs was just concerned that she was going to drink herself to death before she could reach old age. To be honest, she had considered trying.
"We will not have this conversation"
Gibbs flinched from the pain in Bastiana's eyes.
"Ah," he says knowingly. About defensive enough for there to have been something between them, perhaps, but not any more.
"I am sorry "Gibbs reaches out, grips Bastiana's wrist. "I didn't mean to hurt you."
She doesn't answer, just stares down at Gibbs' hand on her arm.
There are a hundred things that Gibbs wants to say, a hundred ways he wants to learn. He hadn't intended to hurt the woman. He just… needed to know. His jealousy demanded it. He wanted to know who it was that had won Bastiana's heart. What did they do or say that made her fall for him? What made Bastiana look at this man in a way she would never look at Gibbs?
He opens his mouth to say something, anything, but he's cut off by a throat clearing. He's too well trained to let his head jerk up, but his feels the muscles in his shoulder tense.
Tony is standing in the doorway, back in casual jeans and sweater, glaring at them both. "Doesn't this look cozy."
Gibbs looks down to where his hand is still on Bastiana's, and very deliberately doesn't move it. Bastiana follows his gaze, and her face flames up before she tugs her hand away.
"Son." Bastiana actually gets to her feet. She sounds absurdly guilty, for all that nothing had happened.
"Are you ok?"
"Of course not" Tony roars, and suddenly there's a vase flying across the room. "My wife is missing. "
Bastiana whimpers, turning his head to bury it in Gibbs chest.
"I'm … I want to kill him, mom." Tony's voice is pitched low, "I want him dead. I want him to suffer like he made me suffer. But for that? For that kidnapping Katrina? God, I want to tear him to pieces."
She nods.
"I know, Tony." Bastiana takes a deep, steadying breath. "I want him dead too. She's … God, she's like a daughter to me, Tony. To see you both so hurt …"
Gibbs lays his hand over Tony's and squeezes. He doesn't say anything, Gibbs knows he just can't say anything. They share a moment of silence, of quiet, of horror together. Then Tony nods.
"What happened nqcl there?" asks a concerned Gibbs as he puts his hands on the counter. "I was really worried when I saw you on the floor!"
"I just," starts Tony unsure of how much he wants to share. "I had an epiphany about my feelings and the whole kidnapping situation. Something inside me snapped and while it helped me realize the truth, it also fucked up my emotions."
Bastiana gives her son a weary look unhappy with the lack of information.
"Do you care to share?" says Bastiana as she looks at Gibbs. "I don't wanna pry, but you're my son and it's really hurting me to see you like this."
"It not your fault!"
There is silence for about two minutes as Tony takes in what his boss said.
Tears formed in Tony's eyes. "W-What?"
Bastiana looked at her son with a disbelieving incredulous look. "Are you serious? It not your fault! Why are you blaming yourself?"
Gibbs' heart is shattering as he stares at Tony's curved shoulders. He looks so broken and so guilty, so shattered and desperate and lonely..His heart is splintering as he thinks about Katrina laid out, cold and still, somewhere with that psycho Nimoy. He has no idea what's going on back there, no idea if Katrina is even still alive or if he's succumbed to his injuries. He has no idea if they'll ever be able to patch Tony back together after this, even if Katrina survives. He has no idea if the family will ever come back from this.
"How the fuck is not my fault?"Tony's voice breaks through the storm of his terror.
Seeing Bastiana flinched, Gibbs immediately went into protective mode, standing between her and a furious man drowning in his guilt.
"I was the one who bring her into this!. I was the one who bring my darkness in her life ,I made her wait for a phone call from Gibbs announcement her that I am dead."Tony whispered. "Neither Katrina or Jason deserved this, worry about their lives. Fearing everyday that my past will hunt them ,hurt or worse kill them."He takes a deep breath, wiping tears from his face. " I did everything I could but wasn't enough. I am not enough!"
The hurt on Bastiana's face break his hurt, seeing the woman he was fond of been like this, it twisted something in his soul.
"Bastiana, get us some privacy."
She hesitated but nods.
Tony starts to stir, and Gibbs focuses his energy on Tony. He can't think right now, can't think about Katrina's fierce personality or his incessant sarcastic comments. He can only focus on Tony, and Tony's pain.
And pain is what greets him when Tony's eyes flutter open. There's so much pain in those dark depths.
"Gibbs. Please," he rasps. "Please."
Gibbs knows what he's asking. Please tell me it's not true. Please tell me you found her. Please tell me anything else.
Gibbs shakes his head. "I'm sorry, Tony."
Tony chokes out a sob and curls into Gibbs. "No," he moans. "No, please, dad."
They eventually find her, dumped like garbage in the back of the warehouse's old, disabled walk-in refrigerator. It's easy to tell that the room had been Nimoy's torture chamber -- there's blood everywhere and at least three other bodies. There could be more, no one is quite sure they want to look in the various boxes scattered about.
Katrina's hands are duck-taped together, thrown over her head. Her feet are in a similar state -- but shoe-less and covered in blood. She isn't moving -- her chest is still and his eyes are closed. Where she isn't covered in blood, she's pale as death. She is dead, it's easy enough for anyone to see.
Tony is with the search team when they finally get to the back of the walk-in. Gibbs spots Katrina's body first. He turns on his heel, ready to steer Tony away, but it's too late. He nearly runs into Tony -- the man is right there, his eyes fixed on the bloody body tucked away in the corner.
Tony's knees buckle. It's only Gibbs' strong arms that keep him upright, only his quick movements that keep Tony from collapsing onto the ground. Tony moans, a sickly sound that cuts straight through the hearts of anyone within hearing distance.
"No," he whimpers. "No, please, no."
"Tony." Gibbs tightens his grip on Tony's arm. "Go back outside. Don't … you don't have to do this. You don't … you don't need to see this." He takes a deep breath, willing down the nausea that rises in his throat. "Remember … remember her as she was, not like this. Please. Go."
Tony shakes his head. "No." The single syllable catches in his throat. His shoulders shake in a sudden, violent sob. "No, I have … I have to. I have to go to her." He sobs again, runs the back of his hand roughly across his mouth. "She needs me. she … I have to." He shakes himself free of Rossi. "Let me … let me go to her."
He pulls away from Gibbs and staggers forward. Gibbs turns to McGee, desperation and sorrow in his eyes. He motions at the other searchers. Get them out of here, he mouths. McGee nods, turns, and herds the others out. No one needs to see this -- to see Tony Wolf break into a thousand pieces. McGee owes him this, this privacy as his life falls apart.
Tony falls to the ground next to Katrina, the crack of his knees echoing through the dimly lit room.
"Katrina," he whispers. His hand hovers over Katrina's bloody shoulder. "Oh, Kat." He bows his head, letting the tears come again. He can't stop them.
Katrina is a mess. Her shirt is in tatters, shredded to ribbons by Nimoy's knife. Blood seeps from endless cuts -- cuts on her chest, her arms, her legs, her feet. Only her face is unmarked, free of blood -- only his beautiful face, still as death. Tony can't stand it, can't stand the sight of his wife, his love torn apart.
He reaches out a shaking hand, smoothing it over Katrina's disheveled hair. She's been wearing it long again, at Katrina's request, and it reminds Tony of those days when they fell in love -- Tony recovering from the plague. Days when Tony used to soothe them both by running his fingers through those silky curls.
Oh God.
Now his fingers tangle in knots and dirt and blood. He can't keep down the nausea, has to reel backwards to vomit onto the bloodstained floor. Stained with Katrina's blood. Katrina's precious, precious blood.
He gasps, gagging on bile. Sobs shake his shoulders and tears cascade down his face. How … how does he face the future? How does he walk out of here? How does he … how does he keep going without Katrina?
Unthinking and uncaring of the consequences of his actions, Katrina jerks forward. He wraps his arms around Katrinr, and pulls the young woman s body into his lap. He pulls Katrina to his chest, sobbing over him in ways that remind him too much of his mother, too much of the worst day of his life. It's so similar, too similar and God, he wishes he could die right here with Katrina.
He nuzzles his face into Katrina's neck, trying to catch Katrina's scent, but all he can smell is blood. He cries out, a low wail, and then presses his ear to Katrina's chest. He knows there's no heartbeat, knows there's no chance in hell, but God, please!
And then he freezes.
Because that … there it is again.
Frantic now for a whole different reason, Tony presses two fingers to Katrina's jugular. He's not imagining it. Katrina's heart is beating. She's alive.
"Gibbs!" He bellows. He swoops Katrina up and staggers to his feet. "Gibbs! Get the medics! She's alive!"
He's already moving as fast as he can towards the door of the damned walk-in, already shouldering past a skeptical Gibbs.
"I'm not crazy, her heart is beating. Get me a damn medic. Now!"