Welcome to my first fanfic! I hope you like it, thanks for reading.
Disclaimer : I don't own NCIS or the charaters, cause if i did, Tony would be miiiiiiiiine.
Oh yea, and i wrote this on a whim. So any mistakes are mine, if you see any feel free to let me know !
Anthony Dinozzo unlocked his apartment door and stepped inside. The stale air and dark rooms showing no signs of life. Taking off his coat and throwing his keys to the side, Tony walked into his living, taking note of the dusty TV, and the even worse coffee table. Lying down on the couch he took a moment to just rest. It had been a long case, one that kept him so busy that he never left the office, which included not coming home. Not that he cared a lot about that. He never really liked coming home anyways, it always reminded him of how alone he always seemed to be. Sighing and brushing a hand over his face, Tony got up and walked over the fridge, not because he was hungry, but because the busier he kept himself the less likely the demons were to cloud his brain.
Opening the door and taking note of what was inside, Tony sighed again. The only things taking up residence in his fridge at the moment were an old sandwich, and an even older box of Chinese food. Closing the door and walking back into the living room, Tony took a seat on the couch once more. He was exhausted, almost to the point of just passing out right then and there. "That is what working 6 days straight without a break does to you Anthony," Tony imagined what Ducky would say. 'That is saying though, that Ducky would even notice' Tony thought to himself sadly. He couldn't stop thinking about the case, and how no matter what he did, or who he talked to, they always seemed to belittle him, talking to him like he was stupid. McGee always acting like he was better then him, just because he knew more about computers, and Ziva, just repeatedly telling him that he wasn't Gibbs, that he should stop acting like him. Letting him know that he was never going to be like Gibbs. He was tired of always hearing that, he knew he wasn't Gibbs, he knew that he wasn't as good as Gibbs, Hell he even knew at that at some points in a case he wasn't as good as McGee. But just for once he would like to be recognized properly for something he did!
"Maybe they don't think you're good enough Anthony." Tony thought to himself. "Maybe you really aren't worth it." The more he kept thinking about it, the more he started to believe it. Sure, he'd heard it plenty of times before. From his partners in Philly and Peoria, and even from his Chief in Baltimore, never really taking it to heart, knowing that he was just going to leave in a couple months, leaving that hell hole behind and moving on to another. Once or twice he even thought about using his gun, even getting to the point of putting it against his head. Never pulling the trigger. But tonight the demons were winning the battle and Tony could stop his mind from getting wrapped up in everything. His mind travelled from thoughts of his father, who repeatedly told him that he was never going to amount to anything in his life, to Gibbs, the man he looked up too, the man that he saw as a father. Telling him "You'll do" when he left for Mexico, leaving him behind. Then having him just show up again and dump him back to SFA like a ton of bricks. Tony felt so betrayed when Gibbs left, then to just have him show up and take his spot back like nothing? He really didn't deserve that. He knew that but he let it happen anyways trusting Gibbs. Then when the whole undercover assignment blew up on his face, Gibbs looked like he felt betrayed by Tony!
He was sick and tired, sick of people treating him like crap, people that he saw like family. And he was tired of everything, of people killing people, of people he loved dieing or leaving and he was tired of having to get up every morning, just to go into work to face all the torment and anger over and over again.
He was tired of holding the mask in place too. For once he would just like to be himself. Let everyone see what they're doing to them. But that's not something that they would care for so he just keeps the mask on. Hiding behind it at work. Letting it come off at night when he gets home.
But tonight, tonight is that night that he's done, done listening to insults and done trying to hide everything. The pain showing on his face, Tony got up and walked over to the side table near the door, reaching for his gun he grabbed it and slide against the wall down to the floor. He stared at it in his hands, feeling the weight of it and enjoying it. It made him feel safe, holding the gun, like no matter what could come at him he could always save himself. He put the barrel against his head, feeling the cool metal as it pressed against his skull. Knowing that what he wanted to do could set him free, make the pain he feels everyday subside and basically disappear all together. The pain, which before he came home was small has now grown and basically has taken over, he feels nothing but pain, pain for all the mistakes he's made and all the people he will miss, wondering if they will even care enough to miss him. Taking a deep breathe to calm himself, Tony presses the tip of the gun deeper into his head. He laughs, thinking about his father and how he probably will never care that his son is gone. If he even ever hears about it. Finally, he takes the last deep breathe of his life, blowing out the air, Tony starts to put pressure on the trigger.
He looks up into the eyes of Leroy Jethro Gibbs, realizing that he must have been in deep thought not to have heard Gibbs come through the door.
"What are you doing, Tony?" Gibbs looks at him, sadness evident in his eyes.
"What I should have done a long time ago." Tony looks up at Gibbs with tears in his eyes.
"Because… because, I can't take this anymore." Tony lowered his head.
"Look, we can talk about it! Think about all the people you're going to hurt by pulling the trigger." Gibbs knelt down beside him.
"Please! Why are you acting like you care!" sarcasm obvious in his voice. "You really couldn't care less, but I'm tired of pretending, I'm tired of hurting, and I'm tired of this world."
With the final word Tony raised the barrel back to his head.
The last sound that was heard was a gunshot
Thanks for reading !
Reviews are appericated, One question though, I do have an idea for a second chapter, should i keep going? Any thoughts are welcomed.