A Halloween in August story for chocobell
Title: Reality Dreamt
Genre: NCIS
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 740
Prompt: A scene from a nightmare comes true the next day or does it?
My thanks to chocobell1212 for playing along and to Sparky for her beta. Just a head's up.
Jethro Gibbs was not someone who could be accused of having a fanciful imagination. To him, the world was black and white. Grays bothered him and he did his best to eliminate them in his job. His dreams, however. They were something else. They couldn’t be eliminated or even controlled. Often nightmares would plague his sleep and he would abandon his bed for his workshop downstairs and some liquid comfort.
This night, it started slowly. He dragged himself out of bed and downstairs, stumbling on the bottom step.
If he’d been prone to talking to himself, he would have admonished himself for tripping on a step he’d not only used dozen of times, but one that he’d actually repaired.
He turned on the coffee pot, checking to make sure the grounds were fresh. He didn’t think Tobias had visited him last night, but he gave up trying to tell.
While the coffee brewed, he shaved, cutting himself. He never cut himself, not even when he had to use his knife to shave with.
“What the hell…?” The thought was cut short by a stench and he moved quickly back to the kitchen. Smoke was erupting from the coffee pot. He snatch it away, cursing as he burned his hand.
“Damn McGee and his imagination,” he muttered as he ran cold water over his hand. Last night, McGee had been going on about Venus being on a cusp and Mars in retrograde or some such nonsense.
Then, as it often happened with dreams, he was at his car. He went to start it and the key snapped in the ignition.
Gibbs’ foul mood was steadily taking a nose dive. He hot-wired the car and headed for his favorite coffee shop. If anything would lighten his mood, that would do it.
The coffee shop was popular with many of his co-workers as well and it didn’t surprise him to see Tim and Delilah at one table with their children in a double stroller. Jimmy was carrying a tray of coffees out to a waiting Ducky and Abby.
Even DiNozzo was there, a newspaper tucked under one arm. He raised a hand in greeting and Gibbs nodded. Parking out front was full, but there was a lot just around the corner. He headed there and that’s when the plane hit the coffee shop. It exploded in a fireball and only for the fact he’d not parked out front was Gibbs spared, but in one shattering moment, his world was gone.
Jethro Gibbs sat upright, his chest heaving. A glance at his bedside clock told him he still had a few minutes before it was time to get up.
Even so, he fought his way clear of the bedsheet and sat there, his heart still racing, his stomach still convulsing. He could smell the burning jet fuel and hear the screams.
“It was a dream, Jethro.” He stood and pulled on his robe. “Just a damned dream.”
Except he stumbled on the last step and everything came back in a sickening wave.
Checking the coffee pot, he made double sure the water was in there before he turned and carefully shaved. Even so, his hands wouldn’t listen to him and he nicked himself before smelling something.
“But I checked it,” he complained. He’s turned on the wrong burner and a much beloved pan was history.
He moved through breakfast in a daze and found himself standing beside his car, key in hand.
Cursing, he pulled out his phone and hit a button. Almost immediately, McGee answered.
“Yeah, boss?”
“Where are you, Tim?” He could hear traffic and people in the background.
“Coffee shop, boss. Looks like you are the only one not here.”
“Tim, I need you to do this and not ask any questions, do you understand.”
“Um, yes?”
“Get the team out of there. Tell them it’s a bomb threat, but get them out. You have about ten minutes to be clear.”
“Right. I understand.”
Gibbs prayed that he did. It seemed to take forever before he reached the coffee shop and a nagging voice sent him speeding around the corner a mere few seconds before the plane hit.
He sat in his car and let tears trickle down his cheeks. They were safe, they were all safe, and then he saw the double stroller and the tangled remains of a vintage Morgan.
And Gibbs started praying that he would wake up.
Genre: NCIS
Rating: PG-13
Word count: 740
Prompt: A scene from a nightmare comes true the next day or does it?
My thanks to chocobell1212 for playing along and to Sparky for her beta. Just a head's up.
Jethro Gibbs was not someone who could be accused of having a fanciful imagination. To him, the world was black and white. Grays bothered him and he did his best to eliminate them in his job. His dreams, however. They were something else. They couldn’t be eliminated or even controlled. Often nightmares would plague his sleep and he would abandon his bed for his workshop downstairs and some liquid comfort.
This night, it started slowly. He dragged himself out of bed and downstairs, stumbling on the bottom step.
If he’d been prone to talking to himself, he would have admonished himself for tripping on a step he’d not only used dozen of times, but one that he’d actually repaired.
He turned on the coffee pot, checking to make sure the grounds were fresh. He didn’t think Tobias had visited him last night, but he gave up trying to tell.
While the coffee brewed, he shaved, cutting himself. He never cut himself, not even when he had to use his knife to shave with.
“What the hell…?” The thought was cut short by a stench and he moved quickly back to the kitchen. Smoke was erupting from the coffee pot. He snatch it away, cursing as he burned his hand.
“Damn McGee and his imagination,” he muttered as he ran cold water over his hand. Last night, McGee had been going on about Venus being on a cusp and Mars in retrograde or some such nonsense.
Then, as it often happened with dreams, he was at his car. He went to start it and the key snapped in the ignition.
Gibbs’ foul mood was steadily taking a nose dive. He hot-wired the car and headed for his favorite coffee shop. If anything would lighten his mood, that would do it.
The coffee shop was popular with many of his co-workers as well and it didn’t surprise him to see Tim and Delilah at one table with their children in a double stroller. Jimmy was carrying a tray of coffees out to a waiting Ducky and Abby.
Even DiNozzo was there, a newspaper tucked under one arm. He raised a hand in greeting and Gibbs nodded. Parking out front was full, but there was a lot just around the corner. He headed there and that’s when the plane hit the coffee shop. It exploded in a fireball and only for the fact he’d not parked out front was Gibbs spared, but in one shattering moment, his world was gone.
Jethro Gibbs sat upright, his chest heaving. A glance at his bedside clock told him he still had a few minutes before it was time to get up.
Even so, he fought his way clear of the bedsheet and sat there, his heart still racing, his stomach still convulsing. He could smell the burning jet fuel and hear the screams.
“It was a dream, Jethro.” He stood and pulled on his robe. “Just a damned dream.”
Except he stumbled on the last step and everything came back in a sickening wave.
Checking the coffee pot, he made double sure the water was in there before he turned and carefully shaved. Even so, his hands wouldn’t listen to him and he nicked himself before smelling something.
“But I checked it,” he complained. He’s turned on the wrong burner and a much beloved pan was history.
He moved through breakfast in a daze and found himself standing beside his car, key in hand.
Cursing, he pulled out his phone and hit a button. Almost immediately, McGee answered.
“Yeah, boss?”
“Where are you, Tim?” He could hear traffic and people in the background.
“Coffee shop, boss. Looks like you are the only one not here.”
“Tim, I need you to do this and not ask any questions, do you understand.”
“Um, yes?”
“Get the team out of there. Tell them it’s a bomb threat, but get them out. You have about ten minutes to be clear.”
“Right. I understand.”
Gibbs prayed that he did. It seemed to take forever before he reached the coffee shop and a nagging voice sent him speeding around the corner a mere few seconds before the plane hit.
He sat in his car and let tears trickle down his cheeks. They were safe, they were all safe, and then he saw the double stroller and the tangled remains of a vintage Morgan.
And Gibbs started praying that he would wake up.