Angels Fall

Rifiuto: Non Miriena

Summary: The first person to jump was a man, and another man was seen kissing a young woman at the window before they both jumped... AU McGiva, Tabby, written in 2011, for the 100th anniversary, in honor of the 146. 40 chapters, ready to be uploaded; should be quick and easy.- Licia

April 18th, 1912

New York Harbor

Manhattan Island

New York

He searched, frantically, for her as hundreds upon hundreds of survivors moved down the planks to stable land; the hundreds upon hundreds of faces wore shocked expressions, blankets of harsh wool wrapped about their shoulders, their only surviving possessions what they carried on their backs.

Come on, where is she? She has to have survived.

Finally, he saw her, in nothing but a dressing gown and slippers, her black coat covered by a blanket that someone had draped over her shoulders.

Relief flooded him, and he pushed his way through the crowd, hurrying towards her. As he got closer, he realized that she was clutching tight to a familiar little girl with red curls that fell about her small face. Once he reached them, he embraced her, kissing her firmly on the head. "Thank God you're okay." She clung to him, fresh tears in her eyes. "Where are Jethro and Shannon?" But when he pulled away, he saw the heartbreak in her gaze. She shook her head. "No. No!"

"Mr. Gibbs, he... he tried hard to... to convince Miss Shannon to get in the boat, but... but she refused to leave him. So he... he handed her over to me and ordered me to get in the boat. Told me to... to raise her as though she were my own. How could I not obey, Tony?"

The young Italian swallowed thickly, closing his eyes before turning his gaze to the child clutching tightly to her skirts. The girl looked as though she had been to Hell and back, the horrors she had witnessed, the screams she'd heard as people struggled to flee the ship, or to survive the freezing temperatures of the Atlantic... followed by the deafening silence as hypothermia soon stole their voices from the thousands of souls floating on the water's surface... they had stolen her voice from her, leaving only the silence of what she'd witnessed in its wake.

After a moment, he knelt down to the girl's level. "Hello, Miss Kelly. Remember me, Tesoro?" The girl studied him before looking up at the woman, who gave her a tiny smile. Slowly, she knelt down as well, joining him at her level.

"You remember Mr. DiNozzo, don't you, Kelly?" The girl met her gaze. "You remember Tony?" Silence met her, before the girl turned back to him and curtsied, before wrapping her arms around his shoulders. The man seemed to relax as he hugged her, pressing a kiss to her head before standing and scooping the girl up.

As the trio left the dock, moving through the throng of worried family members and eager reporters alike, Tony turned to her.

"We will stop by to see Ducky before we go home."

Dr. Mallard- or 'Ducky' as the good doctor insisted on being called- had been quick to suggest a few days of rest for the two survivors, and that time would help the child heal. But both adults knew that something as horrible as watching the grandest ship in the world sink beneath the freezing waters of the Atlantic, with her parents still on-board, would not heal, no matter how much time the child was given. Yes, the physical trauma would heal, her voice would return, but the mental and emotional trauma would be a wound that would never leave the child.

They knew from experience.

"Something is wrong in the universe."

"What do you mean, Tony?"

He looked up from the newspaper that lay atop the table; Titanic Sinks- Great Loss of Life Estimated.

"We have lost our family, Abigail." She sighed, getting up from the armchair by the fireplace, marking her place in the book she'd opened but hadn't been able to continue reading.

"You know I detest when you call me that." She smiled, trying hard to lighten the mood, but he gave no indication that he heard her. After a moment, she knelt down to meet his gaze, reaching out to take his hands in hers. "Talk to me, Tony. Please." Slowly, he met her gaze, though she knew he wasn't seeing her so much as he was seeing the past. He was seeing what they'd lost a year ago.

Who they'd lost a year ago.

Slowly, she reached up, brushing her fingers over his cheek. "I can still smell it, Abby." She remained silent, allowing him to talk. "I can still see it, and taste the screams. I can still hear the thud as they hit the ground."

She swallowed, choking on the tears that clocked her throat. "Tony-"

"I can still see them at the window. I can still see her hair as it streamed behind her, loose from it's braid..."

"Tony, don't." Abby choked, tears gathering in her eyes before they slid down her cheeks.

He met her gaze briefly, before kissing her palm and getting up. She watched him, robotic in his movements, walk towards the window in the living room, and lift it up. He leaned against it, staring out into the sky beyond, before moving his gaze down to the street below. Slowly, she stood, joining him; in that one moment, she was back, watching the disaster that had changed their lives forever, that had first ripped their family apart.

The smoke and flames, rising to the beautiful blue above their heads, the uniformed men with their ladders and nets and fire hoses; their feeble attempts at saving lives costing more than they would know. The crowd gathered to watch as men and women alike, all young innocence and optimistic dreams, streamed from the upper floors, some with their clothing on fire, others with their heads burning, their skin turning black. The screams, filled with fear and begging desperately for help, that echoed, even after their bodies thudded against the pavement.

She curled into his side, sobs escaping her throat. "Will we never all be together again?" He pulled her closer, kissing her head, knowing that she wasn't asking him, but the heavens above. But while Abby had shifted her gaze to the skies that greeted them from the window, he still saw that long ago day in March- the fire, the smoke, the death.

And amid it all, amid the fire and the smoke and the death, was a kiss.