It's a feeling

~ a hint of amusement ~

Noah Cyrus ~ Lonely

" Help me,

Oh, please someone help me,

I don't care anyone, anything,

'Cause I'm so sick of being so lonely "

Small drops of cold rain fall against my windows. The power had gone out a couple moments prior but I was to stubborn to call anyone for help. It was a crazy storm and honestly, it pissed me off. I'd like to be working on my boat at this moment not being huddled on my couch with a bottle of white wine in my hand thinking about operation lady bug.

All the blood and bodies.

Those kids. All those kids. No one deserved that. I didn't deserve that.

God there was so much blood.

Mathew.

He was the only one there for me afterwards, him and Ronni. He's gone. I could have saved him. I should have saved him. Why is there always so much fucking blood?

I tilt the bottle back and forth biting my lip tightly. Images upon images kept passing through my mind at a overpowering speed. Cringing slightly in pain, my ribs still hurt, I grab my gun from on top of my coffee table cocking it and pointing the metal towards my front door. My house was designed so there was a open hallway separating the kitchen and the living room. Arched doors faced the same way and the front door sat south east from my current position on my couch. That meant I couldn't quite see my front door but I heard it open.

Once I heard Anthony mumble his usual 'this reminds me of this movie' comment, I roll my eyes. "You guys aren't crashing here." I loudly state, placing my bottle of wine on the table. The all stumble into the doorway to my living room looking down in embarrassment. Although Anthony snaps out of it quickly, walking over to my white couch and plopping down. I glare at him, kicking his leg hard so he'd get the message to get his feet off my coffee table.

"Ow!" he dramatizes, holding his foot in his hand. His eyes land on my wine and he drops his foot, "No glass, hmm," he tuts, raising his eyebrows at me. He must have saw something on my face because he clears his throat, "We were picking you up, we're crashing at Gibbs." he explains.

I scoff lightly, "I'm good Anthony."

He squints his eyes playfully at me, annoyed that I used his full name. "Come on Elle, you are going to freeze." Ellie claims, pouting at me.

I nod my head towards my fire place that was blazing, "I am perfectly fine." I state.

McGee sighs, glaring at Anthony, "I told you she wouldn't come."

"And I told you that if we didn't get her boss will kill us."

"No he won't."

"Yes he will."

"No."

"Yes."

"No."

"Boys!" Ellie shouts lightly, "Let Gibbs come over here, it will be interesting." she smiles at me.

I roll my eyes once again, "Out of my house."

"Yes Ma'am." they all mock, exiting my house calmly, a hint of amusement on their faces as if they knew something I didn't.

*

"You know you'd be dead right now if I wanted to kill you." Jethro states, walking into the living room.

I shake my head, "Not true, I could hear your truck two blocks away, plus you weren't quiet when you commented negatively on the fact I leave my door unlocked." I don't look away from my book, but instead flip the page.

"That's a lot of alcohol," he comments, eyeing the bottles of wine and whiskey, a couple of bourbon, on my coffee table.

I shrug, "I know."

"Are you drunk?"

"If I was I would be commenting on your gorgeous face not reading a book Jethro."

He hums in response, pulling me up from the couch, "To kill a Mockingbird.." he trails off, noting the book title.

I nod, "Good book, one of my favorites." I say, throwing it on my couch.

"I like your house."

"You've been here before."

"I still like it." he smiles at me.

I roll my eyes, "Ya, I like it too, that's why I bought it." it was his turn to roll his eyes.

"You are coming to mine."

"Nope."

"Yep."

"No-"

"I'm sure you'd be just fine but everyone wants you there, some team bonding shit."

"Abby?"

"Her idea,"

"Fun."

"Not really."

"I'm not interested Jethro."

"Ya well neither am I, but it's my house and they're already there so I don't really have a choice so that means you don't either."

"I don't think that's how that works."

"Well it's how it works now. Let's go."

"Jethro."

"Don't Jethro me."

"Don't make me have to."

He places his hands on my shoulders smiling gently, "Please."

I smile back just as gently "no."

"Well I tried being nice." He claims, and before I can respond I'm wrapped in his arms. Out of pure instinct I punch forward. Jethro ducked the blow, slipping under my outstretched fist. He quickly threw out his arms into a self defense pose. I don't process it, and instead send my foot into Jethro's ribs earning a familiar satisfying crunch.

He grunted, doubling up, but lashed out with a right hook, trying to stop me. I slipped backwards, barely avoiding the blow. The movement caused me to lose my balance and I staggered backwards. Jethro noticing, jumped forward onto my and pinned my arms above my head repeating something over and over again but I couldn't quite catch it.

My mind was focused on one thing and that was kill. Kill. That was what I was taught. I needed-

"Belle."

I stopped squirming under his weight and instead froze, starring up at him. Jethro. He's Jethro. I don't need to kill him. I don't need to kill him. I don't-

I suck in a deep breath through my nose and close my eyes, dropping my head against the ground. Fuck.

"Belle." He repeats, rolling us over so I was now on top of him. I don't dare look at him, the embarrassment of what just happened to real, instead I go against everything I believed in and tuck my head into his neck. I just needed the comfort and from experience I knew he could give me it.