Ungodly Hour
Tony leaned against the doorframe, his arms crossed over his chest as he watched her pack up the few items of clothing she had been keeping at his apartment. Her typically neat hair was ruffled as though she had been running her fingers through it, and he could only imagine that her makeup hadn't fared much better.
She was leaving.
That was the one thing he was sure about. Under normal circumstances, he would have greeted this moment with open arms seeing as he wasn't one for long term relationships, but this was different. He loved her.
"Can't we talk about this?" He asked, breaking the tense silence that was flooding the room.
She turned to face him, her cheeks smeared with mascara and eyeliner from her tears. "What is there to talk about, Tony? We tried. Life got in the way. I don't see that changing anytime soon."
He sighed, running a hand through his thick hair. She was right, of course. He knew that. But it didn't make things any easier. It had been a tough five months for everyone, starting with Ziva being left behind in Israel. They had been working long hours with little to no sleep, and eventually the stress started to leak into their life outside of work.
In the past month, since the rescue mission in Somalia that brought Ziva home, things had gotten worse. They were lucky if they spent one night a week together, and even on those nights there was none of the late night talking they had become accustomed to. Instead there was sex, sleep, and an empty bed the next morning.
"What can I do to fix this?"
Abby zipped up the small duffel bag she had brought over with a sigh, dropping it onto the floor before turning to face him. "You can't. We're both... beyond repair," picking up the bag, she headed for the door only to have him stop her. "Tony, don't do this. Please. It'll be easier if we--"
"What? Just accept that it's over?"
"Yeah."
He scoffed, continuing to block the door. "I can't do that. We both wanted this, didn't we? What changed?"
"Nothing," she whispered, her eyes falling closed. "That's the problem."
Her words hit him like a punch to the gut. When she moved to pass him again, he let her, watching from the short hallway as she made her way to the door.
"We're still friends, right?"
Tony shrugged, unsure of what he wanted. After a moment of silence, he spoke up. "Yeah. I'll see you at work."
She nodded, dropping the key he had given her onto the table next to the door before exiting, the knob clicking into place quietly behind her. Scrubbing a hand over his face, he ducked into the kitchen and pulled out a beer, popping the cap off with his knife as he made his way into the living room. He dropped down onto the couch and took a sip, his eyes moving over the apartment that looked the same but felt different.
Dropping his head back against the cushion, he stared at the ceiling, missing the feeling of her warm body curled up against him as they watched TV.
He was alone. Again.