What's Going to Happen: NCIS

Chapter 45

Melissa's POV:

I didn't mean to blurt it out the way that I did. It was the tears, my emotions, my friends trying to comfort me. Everything was getting chaotic that I said a chaotic thing.

After letting me breathe and catch my breath, Tony finally let's go and Tim and Ziva go to the couch. Tony stays by my side. He just looks confused. Ziva looks as if I said nothing. Tim is looking at me like he doesn't know me.

Tony takes my hand again and wipes the tears off my face.

"Melissa. What are you talking about?"

I don't think I'll get used to him calling me that. "I'm the reason my mother is dead."

I've never said this out loud before. I only ever thought it to myself. James never said anything about it to me because he was always drunk. Drunk or sober, it still would have killed me if he ever said it.

I've been hiding this for years. Sean doesn't even know because he wasn't at the funeral because of his dad. This is something I never wrote down on paper. I've been carrying this my whole life. It feels good to confide in ones that trust me with their lives and personal issues. We all trust each other.

"Melissa." Tim says, and my head shoots up as fast as it can. "You were only eight. That can't be possible."

I sigh. "But it is."

"Hey." Tony squeezes my hand this time. "You're about to deal with everyone's problems for a living, including ours. So, just walk us through it."

He's right. If I can't open up to them fully now, they never will be able to with me. I need them to, not because of my job, but because I love them.

"Okay." I take my hands to shake the stress out. I never told anyone this story either. No one knows besides James. I wonder what he thinks of me when he thinks of her.

"When I turned eight my mom got me a tape recorder. I wanted one because every crime show had it and she knew I loved that stuff."

Their eyes are on me and their heads are shaking. I don't think I've even seen them this focused.

"I was constantly playing with it. It was one of my favorite presents."

I look down at my hands because this story just gets harder to tell. The lump in my throat is back.

Tony rubs his thumb around my hand, and I relax a little. "Okay."

"December came and I had a snow day from school. My mom stayed home while James was at work. He was always working. Then, the doorbell rang as I was watching TV with my mom. She had a look on her face that she knew who it was but wanted it to be a surprise. She opened the door and there was a Santa Claus waiting at the door. I thought it was the coolest thing.

"There was no way it was James. This guy was taller, and you could tell he was wearing a fat suit. But eight-year-old me loved it and told him what I wanted for Christmas. Then, there came a point where I was invested in the show that I wasn't paying attention to what Santa and my mom were saying." I take a deep breath because I've had these memories in my head for so long and had no one to share them with. I feel like the story is all over the place, but I can't help it. It's how I'm feeling.

"My mom told me to go play in the basement. I didn't want to, but she was serious, and I didn't want to get in trouble in front of Santa."

Ziva puts her hand up and I look at her. "You mean your room?"

I shake my head. "The basement wasn't always my room. My room was right by my parents' room when I was little."

Tim puts his hand on Zivas shoulder. "Let her finish." Ziva agrees. He must be eager to hear the ending because he's finding out something about me that I never intended on sharing with anyone my entire life, but here I am.