donutsweeper (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
donutsweeper) wrote2008-12-29 11:23 pm
donutsweeper) wrote2008-12-29 11:23 pm
The Spirits Laughed
Title: The Spirits Laughed
Pairing/Warning/Rating: NCIS fandom, spoilers for SWAK, Twilight and Grace Period, rated G
Word Count: 300
Summary: History could rewrite itself in the blink of an eye.
Author's Note: Written for the![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
ncisdrabble100 challenge spirit
Tony was a little kid, maybe five or six, the summer Hurricane Belle tore through Long Island. He’d stood in front of the big window in the dining room for hours, watching the rain pelt the house as the wind picked things up and flew them by: a tree branch, a board from the fence, even a lawn chair. Then, suddenly, it all stopped. The wind, the rain, everything. He’d gone outside and stood there, knowing the eerie calm wouldn’t last, that any minute the storm would whip back up and he’d get smashed by something as it flew by.
Back then Tony hadn’t known why things had gone quiet, but it was a sensation he never forgot; that sensation when time froze and the future took that moment to rewrite itself. He’d felt it that day he’d opened the booby trapped letter - that split second as he blew into the envelope before the powder flew everywhere - there had been that electric stillness in the air. It was there again on the rooftop, not when Kate jumped in front of the bullet that she took in the chest, but right after his joke about Pilates class, just before she died.
Whatever you called it: pregnant pause, calm before the storm, eye of the hurricane, it was a sensation Tony had become horribly familiar with throughout his life and he had felt it the moment the secret door swung open. The seconds slowed to a crawl, it was as if the die had been cast, and this was it, his final moment, but then suddenly there was a blur of movement and the door slammed shut. The floor quaked, and then it wasn’t his time anymore, but someone else’s. Paula’s. He was alive and she was dead. And time marched on.
Pairing/Warning/Rating: NCIS fandom, spoilers for SWAK, Twilight and Grace Period, rated G
Word Count: 300
Summary: History could rewrite itself in the blink of an eye.
Author's Note: Written for the
ncisdrabble100 challenge spiritTony was a little kid, maybe five or six, the summer Hurricane Belle tore through Long Island. He’d stood in front of the big window in the dining room for hours, watching the rain pelt the house as the wind picked things up and flew them by: a tree branch, a board from the fence, even a lawn chair. Then, suddenly, it all stopped. The wind, the rain, everything. He’d gone outside and stood there, knowing the eerie calm wouldn’t last, that any minute the storm would whip back up and he’d get smashed by something as it flew by.
Back then Tony hadn’t known why things had gone quiet, but it was a sensation he never forgot; that sensation when time froze and the future took that moment to rewrite itself. He’d felt it that day he’d opened the booby trapped letter - that split second as he blew into the envelope before the powder flew everywhere - there had been that electric stillness in the air. It was there again on the rooftop, not when Kate jumped in front of the bullet that she took in the chest, but right after his joke about Pilates class, just before she died.
Whatever you called it: pregnant pause, calm before the storm, eye of the hurricane, it was a sensation Tony had become horribly familiar with throughout his life and he had felt it the moment the secret door swung open. The seconds slowed to a crawl, it was as if the die had been cast, and this was it, his final moment, but then suddenly there was a blur of movement and the door slammed shut. The floor quaked, and then it wasn’t his time anymore, but someone else’s. Paula’s. He was alive and she was dead. And time marched on.