'Forget what we're told, before we get too old.'
-Snow Patrol (Chasing Cars)
They had been too late to save the kid; Tony had been too late. It didn't matter that the dirt bag had been put away. The kid was still dead. What kind of sick, twisted world did they live in that would allow a thirteen-year-old child to die in the place of a thirty-year-old pedophile.
The case was over, Gibbs had told everyone to go home, but Tony hadn't quite made it to his car. In all honesty, DiNozzo didn't want to go home. At home he felt confined, alone, but since it was a 'school night' he couldn't exactly go drinking. Veering off to the left, he headed towards the outdoor eating area.
He took a seat on one of the picnic tables, resting his elbows on his knees, burying his head in his hands. He knew he shouldn't blame himself, he couldn't stop what had happened, but he also couldn't shake the guilt he felt either.
With a sigh, he laid back, his legs dangling off the edge, and looked up at the inky black sky, stars winking back at him. For a while he just laid there, studying the night sky, unaware that he had company until she lay next to him.
Together, they quietly rested on the picnic table, looking up at the stars. Tony felt a hand slip into his, giving it a tight squeeze, and he smiled for the first time that day. As long as he had her he knew everything would be okay, but for right now it was nice to lay there and just forget the world.
It is entirely up to you who is laying on the picnic table with Tony.
Thanks for reading, drop a comment if you can, and Benny and I own nothing.