D - Lonely People
Title: Lonely People
Author: perfumedgraces
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing: Jethro Gibbs/Kate Todd
Rating: PG
Spoilers: "Twilight", s2 finale
Word Count: 393
Prompt: Hallucinations for pretty_stickers
Summary: While trying to grieve for the loss of someone he cared for, Gibbs is visited by her from beyond the grave.
A/N: I haven't watched this show since the season 2 finale, because of my boycott after what happened in it. :/ So this is set PRE season 3/etc. The "lonely people" is from Eleanor Rigby, my favorites Beatles song.
He sat back against the lumpy couch, the half empty beer in his hand sloshing around groggily. The old round clock on the wall in front watched him in utmost peace, counting exactly 45 seconds before he tore his eyes away from the spot on the floor they had been boring into. The tick, tick, tick sound of the clock was the loud and omnious, filling the room with a sense of stalling dread, of stale pain gone bad with time. He finally forced his muscles to move, to contract and flex, as he set the beer down on the table.
All the lonely people.
Where do they all come from?
He heard the music in his own ears, as if it filled the room. The sound was growing louder as he closed his eyes tight, trying to force the music out of his head. The violins, the beat ... it was insanely haunting and just plain ominous. Suddenly, he felt the fabric of the couch on his other side shift and he looked up.
There she was. Her long brown hair hit her shoulders like it had for those two perfect years. She was dressed in all black, like some kind of eerie after-death black ops outfit. Her lips, curved and painted a perfect deep mahogany; her eyes bright and piercing. There was something wrong with those eyes. They were supposed to be calm and yet determined; welcoming and fierce. These eyes were hard and daunting, full of mysteries and unasked questions. Then ...
Then, there was the perfect round hole in her forehead. A drop of red was dried around the outside of the hole. It seemed so out of place, distrupting the perfect flow of her face. It hit him suddenly.
"No, you're not here."
Her smiled widened and touched his arm, squeezing it hard. It felt real. It felt more real than anything he'd felt in a while. He looked back down at the ground, forcing himself to push her image out of his mind. She wasn't there. She was sitting in a wooden box in the ground. He was seeing things. He blinked again, trying to convince himself she was a hallucination.
"Don't let this eat you away, Gibbs."
When he looked up again, she was gone. He took a swig of the beer, shaking his head silently.
Author: perfumedgraces
Fandom: NCIS
Pairing: Jethro Gibbs/Kate Todd
Rating: PG
Spoilers: "Twilight", s2 finale
Word Count: 393
Prompt: Hallucinations for pretty_stickers
Summary: While trying to grieve for the loss of someone he cared for, Gibbs is visited by her from beyond the grave.
A/N: I haven't watched this show since the season 2 finale, because of my boycott after what happened in it. :/ So this is set PRE season 3/etc. The "lonely people" is from Eleanor Rigby, my favorites Beatles song.
He sat back against the lumpy couch, the half empty beer in his hand sloshing around groggily. The old round clock on the wall in front watched him in utmost peace, counting exactly 45 seconds before he tore his eyes away from the spot on the floor they had been boring into. The tick, tick, tick sound of the clock was the loud and omnious, filling the room with a sense of stalling dread, of stale pain gone bad with time. He finally forced his muscles to move, to contract and flex, as he set the beer down on the table.
All the lonely people.
Where do they all come from?
He heard the music in his own ears, as if it filled the room. The sound was growing louder as he closed his eyes tight, trying to force the music out of his head. The violins, the beat ... it was insanely haunting and just plain ominous. Suddenly, he felt the fabric of the couch on his other side shift and he looked up.
There she was. Her long brown hair hit her shoulders like it had for those two perfect years. She was dressed in all black, like some kind of eerie after-death black ops outfit. Her lips, curved and painted a perfect deep mahogany; her eyes bright and piercing. There was something wrong with those eyes. They were supposed to be calm and yet determined; welcoming and fierce. These eyes were hard and daunting, full of mysteries and unasked questions. Then ...
Then, there was the perfect round hole in her forehead. A drop of red was dried around the outside of the hole. It seemed so out of place, distrupting the perfect flow of her face. It hit him suddenly.
"No, you're not here."
Her smiled widened and touched his arm, squeezing it hard. It felt real. It felt more real than anything he'd felt in a while. He looked back down at the ground, forcing himself to push her image out of his mind. She wasn't there. She was sitting in a wooden box in the ground. He was seeing things. He blinked again, trying to convince himself she was a hallucination.
"Don't let this eat you away, Gibbs."
When he looked up again, she was gone. He took a swig of the beer, shaking his head silently.