The Virtues
- Temperance – Restraint -
It took every single ounce of self control he had ever had not to reach for his side arm and shoot the smug bastard right in the face then and there. Not only was he sitting in Jenny's chair, but he was splitting his team, his family apart. His self control was working over time to keep his hand away from his weapon, because he knew if he drew it, Tony and Ziva wouldn't be far behind, then, not to be outdone, McGee would follow, and Jenny wouldn't have wanted anymore blood shed on her account.
He wanted to reach across the desk, haul him to his feet and squeeze the life out of him, watch his eyes go blank, that wouldn't have spilt blood. He would have been happy to go to prison for the rest of his life, as long at the bastard wasn't sitting in Jenny's chair. But his hands balled into fists and his jaw muscles clenched, his whole body vibrating with the effort to keep in control.
He had never been one for self control, if he wanted something, he usually got it. The major exception being Jenny. But he was holding back now, holding back from doing the one thing he knew would make him feel better, even if it was just for a minute. He had been holding back for 3 years. Ever since she walked back into his life, he had held back, and it had got him no where, and now he knew that letting go would get him sent away, but he was so tired of holding everything in.
He could feel his resolve cracking. He had held on at the funeral of his Jenny. He held on when his team were given their new assignments. He held on as he glanced at his new teams files. He held on as Abby hugged him, telling him she knew he would make everything ok again. He held on till the elevators shuddered to a halt between floors. His self control slipped and he punched the wall, repeatedly. The burning pain in his hand did nothing to make him feel better. He had been holding on for too long, desperately clinging to the last shred on control, ever since he had heard Tony on the end of Jens phone, ever since his hands stilled at the zipper of the body bag, but his world was slowly crumbling into nothing, dragging him down with it. He swallowed the bile that threatened to rise back down and dragged deep breaths in.
His feet pounded on the tarmac, carrying him god knows where and if he was honest, he didn't care. All he wanted was to be out, out of the office that held too many memories; he kept looking up, half expecting to see Jenny watching him from the catwalk. He needed to be out of his house, which held too many memories, of Shannon, Kelly and now Jenny. He had been running for hours when he found himself at the cemetery.
He didn't look up when Ziva sat down on the bench next to him. He would see tears in the assassin's eyes and they would send him over the edge. His self control wavered when he heard her strangled sob. He shifted closer to her, lending her his self control. She must have taken it all because his self control completely left him when her hand slipped into his. He wanted to curl up and cry himself to sleep, but he let himself be pulled into a hug as a sob managed to escape from his throat. Her hands balled in the back of his shirt and she whispered into his ear, shhh, it will be alright, he wanted to believe her. He hated himself for being so out of control and as a tear slipped down his cheek and she brushed it away, he knew this was the one person who could see him like this now, she would understand loss of self control, she wouldn't judge it. He squeezed his eyes shut tight and counted to three. His control back in place he pulled Ziva off the bench. He clutched her hand in his.
"Come on...you have a plane to catch."