Last night I had a crazy dream
A wish was granted just for me, it could be for anything
I didn't ask for money or a mansion in Malibu
I simply wished for one more day with you
-From "One More Day" by Diamond Rio
- - -
Kate laid on the concrete bleeding from the single shot that was, with an eerie accuracy only gained by practice, located in the exact middle of her forehead, directly between her eyes. And her eyes! They glazed with death, abandoning their lovely dark brown color for a sickening maple. A sudden nausea wrenched Tony's stomach, and he screamed her name in a manner not unlike that in which she screamed his less than 24 hours earlier when the car bomb detonated.
He dropped to his knees by her side, taking her by the shoulders and shaking her gently but insistently, forgetting all about the bastard who shot her. In his mental haze, Tony could not tell whether Gibbs was still standing next to him or was in the process of personally seeing to the murder of Ari Haswari. He watched in horror as Kate's lips parted and a small trail of crimson blood seeped out the corner of her mouth.
Kate. Dead. His... friend? What was Kate to him, anyways? More than an acquaintance, obviously. He cringes as he remembers their conversation about men and women being unable to be friends- not without sex, at least, and he was fairly sure that he and Kate would never have crossed that particular line. Not without a hell of a lot of changes happening first, at any rate. Had McGee been right, for once in his miserable life? Did he and Kate have "something more there," as the probationary agent had, in such a clichéd manner, put it?
Tony suddenly realized that this wasn't really the time to be deciding whether or not he and Kate had the potential to be... whatever it was his crazy mind was dreaming up.
- - -
The hours began to soar past, and Tony was still dazed. He retained foggy memories of McGee coming up to him, and saying he was sorry, with an asinine "knowing" look in his eyes that were at the same time so mournful that Tony couldn't begrudge him it. Of Abby, who was crying, long black streaks of makeup marring her pale face. Of Ari's body on the autopsy table, riddled with bullets from Gibbs' gun. Gibbs was nowhere to be found. No one had been able to bring themselves to check his basement, where he was probably sawing and sanding furiously away at his sailboat.
And Tony- Tony had not registered yet. He couldn't quite fathom it. Kate. Dead. Shot. Ari. Blood. Dead. Kate. The words kept scrolling through his mind like news on a CNN ticker. He recalled the event being reported on the news in a phony somber tone by a bleached blonde with too-red lipstick. All of the NCIS staff, including the team- or what was left of it, could they really still call it the team?- sans Gibbs, of course, was gathered around a television, waiting to hear the report. And Tony recalled all to well how he had, before even thinking, drawn his gun and put a round through the screen. He remembered the silence that followed as he stalked out of the room, ignoring the curious glances thrown his way.
And he knew then. He knew that although it hadn't taken long to cease all speech at the time when he was crouched by Kate's body, it was different now. After a few revelations, Tony had finally grasped a simple fact regarding himself and Caitlin Todd.
He would never stop screaming her name.