Home Again
This is my first time posting on LJ! I've just been lurking for over a year :P
This was just thought up one day when I was way too depressed to attempt at writing a fluffy Tate fic like I intended so this came out...It's not very good; it's non-beta'd; and if anyone ever reads this keep in mind it was written late at night and in like an hour...Anyway, hope its okay regardless.
Comments are love.
Lastly, this is based on the first poem of: Poems for My Brother Kenneth by Owen Dodson
I remember from your life: the senior laughter,
The senior laughter and the big stain
Death marked on the pillow where you died;
How the morning shadows came to hide
The bed
Where you lay-dead;
The horizontal smooth patterns of the maple coffin.
Later nights I dreamt you awoke
And took me by the hand
To the hall
Of the grave
And gave
Me duties to perform when I went out.
That was all.
Duties like remembering how to sit
Laughing at life by being part of it;
Like knitting long threads of laughter
To blanket the silence in the hall, Hereafter.
And I said: Is there some way to watch long tanks creep
Over the world with their iron sound and still sleep?
When the dark body of the ruined dark boy
Is ashes and bones, how can I talk with joy?
There was no reply:
You gave me a smile and returned to the grave.
___________________
Home Again
By now I had mentally relived my few years with her many times over. I tried to focus on her laughter and her beautiful smile. Not the gunshot; not her funeral. But I remember those, too; in even greater clarity than the rest.
The human mind is cruel. It forces you to focus and relive traumatic experiences over and over until either you die or go insane. The day Kate died: I knew. I knew that I would never sleep peacefully and never forget that day.
She’s still alive in my dreams, sometimes. She strides into the bullpen in the way only a woman as graceful yet dangerous as Kate could. She walks up to my desk and calls me an idiot; pig; sexist; anything else insulting as usual, and the day goes on.
A few times, she’s grabbed me by the hand and led me through the building in a slow descent until we are outside NCIS. She smiles at me, brown hair flowing slightly as a spring breeze makes its way past us. Kate gently puts a hand on the back of my neck, tilting our heads as our lips meet in a tender, loving kiss. There’s nothing rushed or messy about it, not like most of the women I kiss, instead, it’s calm, slow.
She would then slowly lean back so that our lips are no longer touching, yet we remain in the same close proximity; her arms around my neck, my hands around her waist. When she speaks, it’s a whisper, as if she’s afraid of scaring me by talking too loudly. She needn’t worry, though, her words scare me more than any tone or volume ever could.
“Tony, even though I’m gone, I want you to promise me something, okay?” She waits patiently as I shut my eyes in denial, shaking my head slightly, waiting a few minutes before acquiescing and nodding, almost imperceptibly. “I need you to keep laughing. I want you to continue living like you always have: joyful, loving, and childish. Whenever you think of my death and get sad, I want you to think of all the times I kicked your sexist-ass for all the things you’ve said. I want you to remember all the fun we had hazing McGee - our first Probie. I want you to remember the time we went undercover as a married couple and had to pretend to fight in our ridiculous get-ups.
“I don’t want you to get depressed every time you think of me. I want you to smile and laugh, remembering all the amazing times we had together. I want you to keep me in your memories, but to let me go.”
The tears that welled up in my eyes had long since spilled over, rolling down my cheeks rapidly, as I didn’t even bother trying to hide it from her - she could always tell when I was lying.
“How do you expect me to let you go, when I never got to have you in the first place.” My voice is rough with emotion, my throat involuntarily closing slightly. “How do you expect me to be happy, when the one person I love is gone?” I croaked.
Kate smiled, tears of her own shining brightly in her eyes. “Just remember the night before you came back to work from the plague.”
Kate had came over since I called her, and the second she walked through my apartment door, I had wrapped an arm around her waist and locked her lips with mine. She was shocked at first, but she immediately registered what was happening and reciprocated gently, still wary of my health. We kissed for a while, even finding ourselves on my bed by the end. We didn’t go farther, though. I had made enough mistakes with women by sleeping with them the first date, I wouldn’t risk it with her. Instead, she just pressed her body tightly against the side of mine, as I wrapped my arms around her. We laid together all night and decided to figure things out in a few days once I’d gotten settled back into work.
“I had known the second I saw you in my doorway that I loved you. It was like there was no doubt in the world. I was in love with you.” I paused, swallowing. “I’ll never forget that night - ever.”
“You better not - or I’ll come back to haunt your ass.”
We both laughed a little, through our silent tears of pure sadness. I ask her again, “How do you expect me to go on, though?”
I watch Kate expectantly, waiting for her reply. Instead of speaking, she simply pulls me in for another kiss, this one shorter, but just as tender as the other. When she pulls back, she simply smiles at me, her whole face lighting up despite the tear tracks lining her smooth cheeks.
I always wake up then. I didn’t really expect an answer; she was after all a figment of my unconscious mind. But this dream has always grounded me. Whenever I am particularly depressed or even worse off than usual, this dream comforts me. It makes me feel like I’m with her again.
It makes me feel at home again.
This was just thought up one day when I was way too depressed to attempt at writing a fluffy Tate fic like I intended so this came out...It's not very good; it's non-beta'd; and if anyone ever reads this keep in mind it was written late at night and in like an hour...Anyway, hope its okay regardless.
Comments are love.
Lastly, this is based on the first poem of: Poems for My Brother Kenneth by Owen Dodson
I remember from your life: the senior laughter,
The senior laughter and the big stain
Death marked on the pillow where you died;
How the morning shadows came to hide
The bed
Where you lay-dead;
The horizontal smooth patterns of the maple coffin.
Later nights I dreamt you awoke
And took me by the hand
To the hall
Of the grave
And gave
Me duties to perform when I went out.
That was all.
Duties like remembering how to sit
Laughing at life by being part of it;
Like knitting long threads of laughter
To blanket the silence in the hall, Hereafter.
And I said: Is there some way to watch long tanks creep
Over the world with their iron sound and still sleep?
When the dark body of the ruined dark boy
Is ashes and bones, how can I talk with joy?
There was no reply:
You gave me a smile and returned to the grave.
___________________
Home Again
By now I had mentally relived my few years with her many times over. I tried to focus on her laughter and her beautiful smile. Not the gunshot; not her funeral. But I remember those, too; in even greater clarity than the rest.
The human mind is cruel. It forces you to focus and relive traumatic experiences over and over until either you die or go insane. The day Kate died: I knew. I knew that I would never sleep peacefully and never forget that day.
She’s still alive in my dreams, sometimes. She strides into the bullpen in the way only a woman as graceful yet dangerous as Kate could. She walks up to my desk and calls me an idiot; pig; sexist; anything else insulting as usual, and the day goes on.
A few times, she’s grabbed me by the hand and led me through the building in a slow descent until we are outside NCIS. She smiles at me, brown hair flowing slightly as a spring breeze makes its way past us. Kate gently puts a hand on the back of my neck, tilting our heads as our lips meet in a tender, loving kiss. There’s nothing rushed or messy about it, not like most of the women I kiss, instead, it’s calm, slow.
She would then slowly lean back so that our lips are no longer touching, yet we remain in the same close proximity; her arms around my neck, my hands around her waist. When she speaks, it’s a whisper, as if she’s afraid of scaring me by talking too loudly. She needn’t worry, though, her words scare me more than any tone or volume ever could.
“Tony, even though I’m gone, I want you to promise me something, okay?” She waits patiently as I shut my eyes in denial, shaking my head slightly, waiting a few minutes before acquiescing and nodding, almost imperceptibly. “I need you to keep laughing. I want you to continue living like you always have: joyful, loving, and childish. Whenever you think of my death and get sad, I want you to think of all the times I kicked your sexist-ass for all the things you’ve said. I want you to remember all the fun we had hazing McGee - our first Probie. I want you to remember the time we went undercover as a married couple and had to pretend to fight in our ridiculous get-ups.
“I don’t want you to get depressed every time you think of me. I want you to smile and laugh, remembering all the amazing times we had together. I want you to keep me in your memories, but to let me go.”
The tears that welled up in my eyes had long since spilled over, rolling down my cheeks rapidly, as I didn’t even bother trying to hide it from her - she could always tell when I was lying.
“How do you expect me to let you go, when I never got to have you in the first place.” My voice is rough with emotion, my throat involuntarily closing slightly. “How do you expect me to be happy, when the one person I love is gone?” I croaked.
Kate smiled, tears of her own shining brightly in her eyes. “Just remember the night before you came back to work from the plague.”
Kate had came over since I called her, and the second she walked through my apartment door, I had wrapped an arm around her waist and locked her lips with mine. She was shocked at first, but she immediately registered what was happening and reciprocated gently, still wary of my health. We kissed for a while, even finding ourselves on my bed by the end. We didn’t go farther, though. I had made enough mistakes with women by sleeping with them the first date, I wouldn’t risk it with her. Instead, she just pressed her body tightly against the side of mine, as I wrapped my arms around her. We laid together all night and decided to figure things out in a few days once I’d gotten settled back into work.
“I had known the second I saw you in my doorway that I loved you. It was like there was no doubt in the world. I was in love with you.” I paused, swallowing. “I’ll never forget that night - ever.”
“You better not - or I’ll come back to haunt your ass.”
We both laughed a little, through our silent tears of pure sadness. I ask her again, “How do you expect me to go on, though?”
I watch Kate expectantly, waiting for her reply. Instead of speaking, she simply pulls me in for another kiss, this one shorter, but just as tender as the other. When she pulls back, she simply smiles at me, her whole face lighting up despite the tear tracks lining her smooth cheeks.
I always wake up then. I didn’t really expect an answer; she was after all a figment of my unconscious mind. But this dream has always grounded me. Whenever I am particularly depressed or even worse off than usual, this dream comforts me. It makes me feel like I’m with her again.
It makes me feel at home again.