Disclaimer: I certainly don't own anything of them, otherwise I'd be really happy!
As Usual
Tony actually really likes the office at this time of the day. It looks rather peaceful, so quiet and dark, somehow comforting. Although most people would think of Tony's behaviour as a little weird, Tony likes working at night. Being at the office on a Tuesday night shortly after midnight isn't really an odd thing for Tony.
He already knew that this day would be bad when he woke up at 4.27 a.m. after a horrible dream. Not that he really remembers what that nightmare was about, but the young man knows from experience that trying to go back to sleep after that wasn't an option. So given the time of day, he changed and went for a long run. Then he showered and was early at the office.
Ignoring the curious looks from McGee and Ziva, Tony actually managed to get some paperwork done, limiting his comments towards Ziva to a minimum, which naturally caught her attention. Something wasn't right with the other agent, but what could it be? He didn't really look sick, although a little tired. Somehow he seemed too eager to busy himself, trying to put other thoughts aside. McGee too, was giving him curious, maybe even concerned looks.
Just as the young Israeli was about o ask what's wrong, or rather make a comment about his odd behaviour, Gibbs' phone started to ring. Waiting for orders, the three younger agents looked at their team leader.
"…We'll be right there!" Gibbs said, then threw his keys to DiNozzo, grabbed his gun and badge and headed for the elevator, three agents at his heels.
The crime scene itself wasn't as much such as it was the place of a tragic death. Taking pictures and picking up evidence was a rather futile job, since from the beginning on, things seemed to be clear. The six-year-old girl lying in her little bed, suffocated by the looks of it, due to a monoxide poisoning, only noticed two weeks later when her mother came back from her vacation. The father of little Cynthia, Petty Officer Joseph Calvin, serving somewhere in the Indian Ocean. All the NCIS agents could really do, was inform the father, Ducky would take care of the girl and Gibbs would certainly "take care" of the mother.
Back at the bullpen, the mood was certainly not the best, and Tony's unusual quietness didn't really stand out anymore. In interrogation, the woman wouldn't even show any kind of remorse or mourning for her dead daughter. This absolutely wasn't a good day for anyone at NCIS.
The autopsy and blood tests only proofed what everybody already knew: Cynthia died two weeks ago in her sleep due to monoxide, and nobody noticed, since her mother was busy getting massages 200 miles away.
Tony was never able to understand why people thought they wanted kids, and then are totally unable to come to terms with them. Some people should just never get children.
As it was already getting late, Gibbs looked around the bullpen at the tired faces of his agents and sighed.
"Go home everyone, see you all tomorrow early and well rested!"
At that, all three got up and took their backpacks, but no one looked extremely delighted anyway.
Unfortunately, Tony's usual mechanism of forgetting, or rather ignoring uncomfortable and haunting thoughts didn't work. He got his pizza, a good old black-and white movie, but somehow his mind was still too wound up to shut off. There was absolutely no need to even think about sleeping, remembering the night before. So, Tony changed again into his running clothes and went for another run, maybe he would be exhausted enough to fall asleep eventually.
However, Tony arrives at his desk at ten past midnight, really still too alert to even think of his bed. So he will just finish his report of the last case, since he can't think of anything else anyway.
He will never understand how people can treat their children like that. Okay, his own father certainly never was the ideal daddy, but he always knew that at least his mother loved him and cared for him. And in case, there had always been the housemaid.
Wow, thinking about his mother so wasn't on Tony's to-do list for tonight, especially since his unpleasant wakening this morning.
God, he really loved his mother dearly, and cherished every moment with her. He even accepted being dressed in a sailor suit to please her. The time with her was precious, especially since sometimes she wouldn't even be able to leave her bed for days. But he loved her company so much, her smile always warmed his heart deeply, he would think of it when he lay in his canopy bed and was afraid of vampires.
Even though she might not have been the perfect mom, Tony misses her often, especially on days like this. Working will help; it usually does when movies and food don't anymore. Maybe he can even find some new clues to an old case.
He would be at work early again, surprising Ziva and McGee, and just do his job as usual. Nobody needs to know that after a hard, sad case, he's not able to sleep, because he will only dream about dead bodies, from this case, old cases, friends or his mom. Sometimes he thinks he has seen to many dead people. (Yes, he is aware of the reference to "The Sixth Sense")
But as usual, he knows that he will go on with his life, what else is he supposed to do? He knew that at the age of eleven when he found the cold body of his mother in her bed, and things haven't changed over the years.
So he sits down at his desk and starts to do his work.
Story Notes:
This is my first fic, and english isn't my mother tongue, so please don't expect too much! I'd be glad about any comments and ideas!
Author's Chapter Notes:
Just another day
Chapter End Notes:
This is my first fic, and english isn't my mother tongue, so please don't expect too much! I'd be glad about any comments and ideas!