What Really Happens: NCIS

Chapter 72

"Melissa!" I hear Tim tell my name, but I don't turn around. I'm running to interrogation to see if it really is who I think it is.

First, Tim tells me he believes in fate. Now, he tells me there are coincidences. Can he make up his mind? I know I did. He told me he believes in fate and got me believing it too. Therefore, everything I encounter from now on is fate. Like this moment I'm about to have. If it is who I was talking about earlier, that is no coincidence. They had to have known that this happened in my town. They had to have assumed he was the one I was talking about it the morning the moment I said his name. I wish I could have gotten a warning, but fate doesn't give you that option. You just have to let it happen.

I open the door and see him sitting there. When he looks at me, he looks as shock as I am. He slowly gets up out of his seat. He shakes the nerves out of his hands and wipes his worries away.

"Melissa?" His voice. I remember that voice. It's deeper now, but still makes me feel like a kid again.

"Sean?" I said his name this morning, yet it feels so foreign rolling off my tongue.

I run to him and wrap my arms around him. His touch is like one thousand flash back races through my body. We always hugged when we were little. Our moms would tease us about liking each other. We did just no in that way. "Oh, my goodness, how have you been? You have gotten so tall." I sound like an aunt that only sees him on his birthday. I don't care because I don't even get that.

I scan his body. He is wearing what the witness described. A white t-shirt, jeans, and a leather jacket with a juice box. He was never one to get all dressed up unless his mom made him. This is the Sean I grew up with. He was absent most of my life more than he was a part of it. I still consider him my friend and the one I really grew up with.

He holds me tight. "And you're still short."

I stop profiling him. "Oh, shut up."

Ziva pops her head in the room. "I'll give you two a moment." She closes the door and we are alone. I know we aren't alone. I wonder if he knows. I wonder Ziva knows. I have this feeling that everyone knows what's going on but me. The one who knows the town the where crime happened knows nothing. The one who can tell what graffiti is on the lamp but can't explain. Most importantly the one who knows the suspect. Or knew.

I go to sit in the chair that is across from his. He takes a seat and we are still in shock.

"I would ask what you are doing here, but I think I know."

He just stares at me. That was a dumb thing to say. "Sean?" This must be as weird for him as it is for me. It's amazing seeing each other, but at the same time sad because of the circumstances. His brown eyes still go lovely with his brown hair. His hair was lighter when we were kids. Now his hair is a little dark, it suits him better. My hair was the same way. It went from light to dark, and now is light again.

"So, you work here?" I thought he would be surprised. I hated guns when I was little. I woke up one night to the sound of my mom watching one of her shows. I went to go tell her that she woke me up. Before I could, someone on the TV shot a gun and killed a teenage boy. I remember running back to my room, scared to look out my own window.

I told Sean about it the next day and he told me I chose the wrong town to live in. His dad had a gun, he said he thought my dad had one. I said he didn't because I haven't seen it till this day. Many of the guys that walk the street at night have guns, he told me. He said his dad and him have talked about it before. His dad never held back anything from him, no matter the age. I don't think that's right. There are just somethings a kid shouldn't know.