The Life Of The Daughter Of NCIS

Chapter 24: What Happened?

Azalea

I loosened my grip slightly, realising that Dad was wearing hospital attire, sensing my change of mood, he looked down at me "what happened?" I asked, battling against the side effects of the morphine, "go to sleep. I'll tell you in the morning." I grabbed his arm as I felt myself drift away "I'm right here Az." Dad assured.

I think I nodded before turning my head to the side, through the hazy black fog I watched my dad position himself in the chair. Whatever had happened obviously put him into height of pain, his jaw was clenched and his arm was cradling his side, I frowned before drifting off into sleep. The last thing I saw was the sour lemon walls of the hospital room.

Fractures of sunlight that had fought through the thin curtains danced on the newly-painted lilac wall opposite my bed, the faint smell of paint fumes still lingered in the air despite the open windows.

None of this bothered me, all my attention was focused on the black analog clock sitting on the fresh white bed table, it was one with the two bells either side, the second hand reached the 12 in quick, jerking movements.

Simultaneously the thin second hand and the short minute hand passed the twelve.

I threw the covers to the end with an excited giggle and slid off the bed, briefly stopping to collect the small purple dressing gown that I had dumped on my rocking horse that Dad made me, I cocooned the soft material around my body and tied the belt around my waist to secure it in place as I ran down the hallway towards the bedroom on the other side of the house.

Soft snores could be heard from within the room, I was slightly surprised that Dad fell asleep in his bed, as he normally slept- well, passed out- in the basement on some plywood or on the sofa downstairs, though he had been sleeping in his own room more often now. He redecorated it the same time he done mine.

I took a running leap and launched myself on the lump covered by a dark coloured duvet.

He let out a heavy groan as I slammed into his stomach, I jumped again, "God Azzie, watch where your putting your knee. I jumped on his stomach again I wiggled around so I could face him, "Azzie, c'mon it's six in the morning." he huffed, burying his head back into the pillows, "but you promised!" I pouted, "and the sun is shining!"  he turned over, sending me crashing against the mattress. "It's too early, please get some sleep, Sweetie." Dad mumbled, dozing off again, I frowned and stuck my tongue out at the sleeping man.

Realising that clean tactics wouldn't get me anywhere, I smiled evilly, a plan- very intricate for a five year old- formed in my head. I stuck my small finger in my mouth before shoving it into Gibba's ear, he let out a yell and swatted my hand away as he jumped up. Dad glared at me while rubbing his ear like a madman, but he wasn't angry, I could see the small smirk he was trying to hide.

"Go grab some breakie, I'm going to have a shower." He ordered, rummaging for some clothes in the wardrobe, I hopped off the giant bed and made my way downstairs.

A couple of days ago Dad had moved the food cupboards around, so I could be a bit more independent, the cereals and other foods like that were in a bottom cupboard, but the unhealthy 'junk' were still contained in a higher cupboard. Shame. I placed the blue box of The Rice Krispies on the wooden tabletop before clambering up onto the chair, sitting up on my knees, I carefully shook some of the tiny puffs into my bowl, I crawled of the seat and skipped back into the kitchen.

Standing on my tiptoes, I grabbed at the handle, with no success, when a larger hand reached over my head and pulled open the fridge door. Dad kissed my head as he lifted me up so I could reach the carton of milk. I held it in the crook of my arm, and sneakily went to pull the bottle of Snapple pink-lemonade that I spied hidden in the far corner. "Don't you dare." Dad warned. Shocked, I looked up, but he was looking the other way, fiddling with the coffee machine.