Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

"No," he heard himself saying.

"Say that again, DiNozzo?" The older man's tone was demanding, furious even. After all, how dare Tony, his mere underling, go against his direct orders.

It didn't matter if said direct orders were against Tony's cop instincts, and who knows against how many rules, even Gibbs' own. Instincts that he'd been forced to suppress for far too long, making him almost forget who he was. He'd made a promise, years ago, to never forget the reasons why he became a cop in the first place. He didn't want to become one of those 'dirty cops' people would talk about with disdain. Didn't want to be what his team had already become. All those times when he'd had to turn his back and shut his eyes whenever people who were supposed to catch the criminals were acting too much like criminals themselves, if not worse. If it were only the Directors or some other big boss using him, then he could deal with it somehow, maybe, but some of them were people he used to think of as his family. People he thought he could trust. Only Ducky and Jimmy—mostly the latter—were still close enough to him. But for how long? Too much had already happened to ignore this situation any longer. Far too long, he had followed his 'team' around like a lost puppy. After taking a beating or a few too many, he now felt used. Ruined. The loyal St. Bernard had become the punching bag. He had reached the point where he could no longer get up. He didn't even try. What was the point?

Tony rubbed his aching forehead with utter exhaustion. He was pretty sure he'd have the mother of all migraines by the time this little 'talk' was over and done with. Looking at the team, and the suddenly silent bullpen in front of his eyes, he knew there was only one thing left for him to do. Ideally, this would've happened somewhere more private, but they had decided to corner him, so this had to do.

"I'm tired, Gibbs," he said quietly, but loud enough for anyone near him to hear it. The evidence of that was the sudden mix of emotions on the older man's hard face; confusion and anger being the most intense. Anger mostly. Deep creases had formed between the eyebrows of doom.

Before Gibbs had a chance to say anything, Tony repeated, loud and clear, "I'm tired. There was a time when I thought we were doing something right. Much as I loved our two-man team, I even liked having a full team. If Kate hadn't died, maybe things would still be how they used to be, or not as we are now. Are you blaming me for her death, or was it Jenny's? Are they the reason? Do you wish it had been me who died? I used to look up to you, boss. For a time you..." Tony felt ashamed when he admitted, "You were like the father I never had. But in the end, you and Senior are not so different."

Gibbs opened his mouth again, but Tony raised his hand and glared at him. "Let me finish."

He knew he had said it with too much sharpness, but he couldn't help it. For once, he wanted to just lay everything out in the open, not hiding anything. To burn all the bridges and never look back. He knew if he allowed anyone to interrupt, he'd just walk away without saying anything, leaving behind too many questions without answers. At the very least, he wanted to have one less weight to carry on his shoulders once he was gone. No things left unsaid. He didn't foresee himself regretting for finally speaking out about the things that had been brewing for years.

"McGee... You shouldn't focus too much on your computers and past education, if you wish to become a proper field Agent. If you do, you might just as well go back to where you came from, which probably is the better place for you anyway. Take it all away, and then what can you offer? How useful can you be?" Tony could almost feel the burning anger thrown his way. The arrogance. After all, why should McStatus listen to anything a mere cop said. "It won't give you the leadership skills that you seem to think you have. It has to be in you. I lay part of the blame of you turning this way on Gibbs, for looking the other way when he should have been the leader, but I also blame myself. And if I were you, I'd be more careful about what I write in my books about real-life situations and people, especially with the kind of work we do. It's going to put you in some really hot water in the future."

Like the burning anger, Tony could feel all their eyes on him now. For a change, he had their complete attention.

"Ziva, our miss Mossad. I pray for the day to come soon when your true colors are revealed to everyone, before it's too late and people get hurt, or worse, dead. You're running your own show, dragging everyone down with you. This is not the Ziva David show. It's the whole team. I guess it's something they never taught you back in Mossad, and neither have you been able to learn that lesson here. Then again, your heart will always be with your father. Nothing wrong with that, but for us and this country, you're a huge red flag."

To his credit, McGee had looked embarrassed, then angry, but he never said anything. Yet. Ziva had no such restraints, looking furious as she moved toward Tony. "How dare you!"

Surprisingly, it was Gibbs, of all people, who stopped her from doing anything rash. He whispered something in her ear, which calmed her down, but anyone who looked in her eyes could see that all she needed was one perfect moment to make her move. She held her head high, and there was a promise of something unpleasant hiding behind the pretty face. There was no telling what the 'former' Mossad officer would do, but the fire in her eyes was a big enough clue.

Tony rubbed his forehead again, trying to gather his thoughts before he lost his only chance to be able to talk with raw honesty to anyone willing to listen.

"My dear Abby. I'm sure by now she's using the security cameras to spy on us. She was like a sister to me, once. Someone I held so dear, and I thought she felt the same way about me. However, after Gibbs' retirement, I realized it was all in my own head. Besides, I'm not you, Gibbs, as she and the other two loved to tell me. It used to hurt, hearing those words, since I looked up to you. I wanted to be like you. You..."

His voice had quieted down to the point where it was hard to hear what he was saying. Tony swallowed the sudden lump in his throat. He didn't break down in front of anyone, much less these people. It wasn't something he did, ever, and he wasn't going to start doing it now. They had no right to see him at his weakest. There was time for that later, when he was alone. Well, he and the full bottle of something he had saved just for moments like these.

"You were my world, boss. Gibbs. As pathetic as it sounds now, you were the kind of man I always wanted to be. Then I realized I had been blinded by the good memories and good times. To this day, I regret not accepting any of those promotions and job offers. If I had, maybe we'd still have something left to salvage."

"What promotions and job offers?" Gibbs finally interrupted. He stood rigid, looking possessive, as if he had the right.

"I'm not done talking yet. You'll have your moment to shine." Tony let out a deep, suffering sigh, and once again he rubbed his forehead. Dealing with this situation had given him a full-blown headache, which showed no signs of getting better. Quite the opposite, actually. He wanted to get away from this place before he had no chance to think clearly anymore.

Too late, he realized, as he found it suddenly hard to gather his thoughts.

"You know what? I could keep talking, but it would change nothing. Not you and definitely not me. I'm not getting any younger, and neither are you, Gibbs. I'm over forty, and I've wasted more than ten years of my life behaving like a good boy, taking in everything and obeying the commands like a good little toy soldier. At work, I've got nothing, and once the work is done, I'm left with the emptiness. Empty apartment, empty life, empty heart, empty soul... I'm so tired. You have no idea how many nights I've spent staring at my gun. That's not who I am. I'm a survivor. I want to die doing my job, or grow old where I get to see my grandchildren, and then die while sleeping in my own bed. This isn't me. You've done this to me. Not this work. You—" His voice broke suddenly, and he had to lean against his desk as everything swam before his eyes.

Once he felt the dizziness pass, Tony looked up to see Gibbs reaching out his hand. To steady him or to give him the mother of all head-slaps? Was that concern in his eyes? Before he even realized what he was doing, Tony slapped the hand away, ignoring the flash of hurt and shock, and then the look of confusion mixed with anger.

"Don't," Tony hissed between his teeth. "I'm done. Done with this conversation and done with you. If you have anything worthwhile to say to me, talk to Ducky or Jimmy. They'll let me know, and I'll think really hard if your reason is good enough to bother listening."

Finished talking, he left his gun and badge on his desk—if it looked like he made a show out of it, then surely he had earned that much—and turned around toward the stairs, instead of the elevator, to make sure nothing stopped him from getting away from there as quickly as possible. He felt a sudden tightness in his chest, and it was hard to breathe. The last thing he looked at was the shocked face of Director Vance.

"You'll have my letter of resignation by tomorrow. I would say it was nice working with you, but we both know that would be a lie." With that, Tony was out of the door. Once he was out of their sights, he started running.

In the bullpen, the silence was deafening. Gibbs stood frozen, seeing flashes of memories. Memories and feelings involving Tony, which he had never gotten back, ever since the explosion. Memories of what they used to be, and where things first started going wrong. Or perhaps he had chosen to ignore them, having never been comfortable with the deeper, softer emotions. Anger was too easy. Had he become the worst kind of bastard by choosing the easy way, to forget what they had? What had he lost? How could he have forgotten?

"Tony!" Gibbs heard someone yelling, not realizing it was his own voice, as he ran after Tony, ignoring the pain shooting through his bad old knee. If anyone thought about following him, the idea was gone when they saw the look in his eyes screaming, 'don't you dare!' For a reason he didn't understand, Gibbs was afraid. He had to fix this.

McGee swallowed and finally dared to speak when their boss was gone. "What... What just happened?" The moment the words were out, it was as if someone broke a dam, everyone in the bullpen talking at the same time.

"What do you mean, what happened? Tony just lost his head."

"Mind, Ziva. Lost his mind," McGee wearily corrected.

"Same thing. Gibbs will bring him back and then everything will be back to normal. Maybe this is a joke. This is Tony; he is always so dramatic."

"I don't know... I've never seen him like that. He was being too serious. This is serious."

"And he will be back to his old annoying self."

McGee didn't know what to say. A part of him was angry, but the other part was feeling guilty, and terrified, at the mere thought of a storm called Gibbs, which was bound to get horrible, without that one person around who usually took it all. Realization hit him suddenly. "You know, he was rarely truly annoying, and even when he was... I didn't mind it that much. Not really."

"You are all crazy, I say. Do what you want, I need food." Ziva shook her head and left, muttering something in a language McGee couldn't understand even if his life depended on it.

Feeling nauseous for no apparent reason, he stood up from where he'd been sitting and left to find Abby, hoping that at the very least she was in a better mood. When he entered the silent lab, he felt any lingering hope vanish. For as long as he could remember, the lab was only silent when Abby wasn't there, or something was wrong. He found her sitting in the darkest corner, hugging her stuffed animal, which made farting sounds every once in a while, weirdly out of tune.

There were tears rolling down her cheeks. "Why did things go so wrong?" Her quiet voice was loud against the silence in the room, startling McGee.

"I... uh... I don't know. Can I..?" He waved his hand awkwardly toward the empty spot next to Abby, who nodded without looking up.

"I want to be mad at someone, scream at someone, but I'm not sure who to be angry at. I never realized... I want it back, Tim. Our family. I want Tony back. And Kate, but I know that won't happen... I can't remember the last time I saw him smiling even one of his stupid fake smiles, or the last time he came to see me for no reason, or the last time he talked about movies, or... The fact that I stopped noticing makes it so much worse."

They were both silent for a while; Abby hugging Bert, the farting hippo, and McGee staring at nothing.

"So Tony was right. You did spy on us through the cameras."

Abby let out a sound that was a half-sob, half-laughter. "He did always know me well... Always notices things that matter, and things no one else would bother to find out. It seems none of us bothered to do the same for him. I should've come, said I'm sorry, but I was too afraid to face him and his reaction. His rejection. Like a coward."

When McGee looked at her, he saw she hadn't stopped crying. It made him feel even worse, and he swallowed. "It's my fault."

"Don't. Let's just share the blame. All of us. I know I want to be mad at someone, but you don't want to face my fury."

McGee swallowed again. "Y-yes..."

"Good. Now, tell me what happened after he left. I stopped watching at that point."

"Ah, he... uh... Well, all I know is that Gibbs went after him."

Abby's face brightened. "Bossman will bring him back. I just know it!"

"I don't know, Abby. I've never seen him look like that. I wouldn't set my hopes too high. Besides..." McGee hesitated and then decided to not add anything. It was better if she didn't know too much about what had been going on between Tony and the team. The way they'd been treating him and the way Ziva had been ever since the Rivkin case. Maybe even before it. The way he had been. It was a wonder Tony hadn't said anything for so many years. So many others would have snapped way before things could've gone this far. He would've.

"Oh, worry not, Tim. Bossman always sets things right. Always. Now, help me up. I've got work to do!" She held out her hand until McGee got up and pulled her to her feet.

By the time he left the lab, the noise called music was back on. He shook his head at the easy way she jumped from one extreme to the other. How much faith she put into Gibbs, even now. "I don't think we can fix this one, Abby," McGee muttered as he walked into the elevator. He did, however, still hold a small piece of hope that their boss could somehow fix everything. If Gibbs couldn't do it, then who else could?

Meanwhile, the man in question was looking for Tony. Although his car was still in the parking slot, the younger man was nowhere to be found.

"Tony! DiNozzo!" Gibbs approached Tony's car, while scanning the area with his eyes. The younger man was sitting next to his car, so he almost missed him. "Tony!" Gibbs felt deep relief as he finally saw the man. It then turned into a concerned frown as soon as he got a better look at the man sitting in front of him. Tony's hands cradled his head, and he flinched each time Gibbs spoke too loud. Noticing this, Gibbs crouched in front of him and gently removed the hands to get a better look. He was met with a pair of unfocused, dazed eyes.

"What's wrong?" Gibbs could only watch helplessly as the obvious pain and confusion seemed to be getting worse. Wishing that he truly was someone who had all the answers, Gibbs took out his phone.

"Whashapp'nin'..?" Tony slurred. It was near impossible getting the words out of his mouth. Just as the world started to fade into darkness, Tony felt panic rising, and he grabbed someone's hand. "Boss..?"

"I've got you, Tony. Ducky is on his way. I've got you..." Although it was oddly soothing, the older man's voice sounded strange. It was as if the man himself was miles away from him, and Tony could just barely make out the words. Rough hands were brushing through his hair, too gently for the owner of those hands.

For a moment, his world was a blur of movement and voices, all mixing together. Flashes of lights. Pins and needles. All he could do was moan helplessly.

"Stay with me."

Tony tried to focus on what someone was saying. Gibbs? No, someone else. Maybe. He didn't know anymore. The world was spinning and his headache had turned into skull-splitting agony.

It stopped, suddenly. Tony found himself lying on his back, using Gibbs' lap as his pillow. It felt nice. So soft...

Too soft, he realized as he sat up straight, gasping for his breath, eyes wide open. A loud beeping noise cut through his panic and brought everything back into focus in front of his eyes. Strong arms pushed him back into bed and someone kept saying something. He was in a white room and there was that smell he hated so much... He must've been brought to a hospital at some point. His head felt as if he was under water, and he turned his head weakly toward the person in the room. Expecting to see Gibbs there, he froze.

"Danny? Did I die?"

His former partner laughed and called out to someone, and then someone in a white coat entered the room.

"Danny?" Tony said again, hardly even noticing the other person when there in front of him stood his dead former partner, looking very much alive. Never before had he been so confused.

"You've been in a coma for a couple of weeks and that's what you ask? Should I feel insulted?"

"All right, Detective. I'm going to ask you a few questions." The man in a white coat was talking now.

Tony gave the two men a blank stare. Coma? Weeks? Detective? He felt the first signs of the panic, because right now nothing made sense.

"What's your name?" The question brought him back to reality. Only he wasn't sure what reality it was.

"Anthony D. DiNozzo."

"Who is our President?"

"Obama."

The silence between his answer and the next question was a few seconds too long.

"How old are you?"

"45."

Again, that silence.

"What do you do for a living?"

Because of the silence, and the looks he received before, Tony hesitated for a moment. "NCIS..."

"NCIS?"

"Stands for Naval Criminal Investigative Service..."

"Oh... I see... Listen, Detective... What is the last thing you remember?"

Tony shrugged slightly. "Not sure... It's kind of fuzzy. I remember I had the mother of all headaches and then Gibbs was there and—"

"Gibbs?"

"My boss." Tony didn't fail to see the strange looks the other two exchanged.

"All right. Why don't you try to relax for a bit? I'll go see if I can find your doctor."

Danny squeezed Tony's shoulder for a few seconds with a small, oddly concerned smile on his face before following the male nurse.

Tony closed his eyes as he sat up again. Something was wrong; he knew that much. Something was very, very wrong. He made sure to shut down the machine before getting rid of who knows what they had attached to him, some of which he didn't want to think about, but they still had to go. He nearly fell on the floor as he stood up on his shaking legs. Using anything he could as a support, he made it to the tiny bathroom. Maybe things would be back to normal by the time he returned. Otherwise, he didn't know... He didn't know.

As he was splashing cold water on his face, and then drinking some, he froze to the spot, staring at the stranger staring back at him. No, not a stranger. He just hadn't seen that face in a very long time. For almost twenty years, to be precise. He was looking in the mirror, looking at his much younger self. His twenty-something self. Twenty-seven? Someone must've been shaving his face, since there was hardly a day's worth of stubble, which only emphasized his youth.

There were flashes of images in his head. Memories? Several gunshots, and then pain.

He felt suddenly faint and, had he not been leaning against the sink, he would've crashed on the floor. The young man in the mirror held horror, confusion, and deep despair in his eyes. "What's going on?" Tony heard himself whisper, and only now realized his voice sounded as if he hadn't used it for a while. He let himself slump on the floor, staring at the tiles in front of him as, finally, the panic rolled over him like a tsunami.

Chapter Text

The darkness in the room was unreal. The loud wind, which made the tree branch beat against the window, barely made it past his foggy thoughts. The pain in his body was all too real, but he refused to let the doctors drug him any longer. A part of him tried to reason that once the drugs were out of his system, his mind would be clear and everything would make sense. Perhaps this was all nothing but a dream, caused by those drugs. Just a hallucination. A bad joke. Soon, Gibbs would order him to wake up, and most likely give him a head-slap for losing it in the first place.

After finding him sitting in the bathroom, completely out of it, and his worst wound bleeding, the Doctor and nurses took him back to bed and drugged him to keep him from causing himself further harm. That was few days ago.

Once he woke up a couple of days later, he was furious and ready to sign himself out AMA. The only thing keeping him there was the fact that there were still too many drugs in his system, and he could barely get on his feet before falling back on the floor. After making sure they stopped giving him anything, he hadn't been sleeping much, and whenever he felt someone in the room with him, he was wide awake. It meant getting no rest while he was in the hospital, as usual. No rest also meant it would take that much longer to heal.

The whole time he was lying there, his mind kept pulling him toward two different realities. If this was the reality, he was happy to see Danny alive and well. However, he felt a sharp pain deep in his heart at the very thought that all those years, both good and bad times, working at the NCIS were nothing but something his mind had made up. He couldn't handle it, so he decided to ignore it. He would deal with it when he was stronger and finally alone.

You're not going to deal with it, a small voice in his head accused him. It sounded like Gibbs, which made him give himself a head-slap. "I truly am losing my mind here."

"You're confused. You were in a coma, and we nearly lost you there. You had some crazy dreams, but if I were you, I'd be careful what I let out of my mouth. Especially around certain people. Which reminds me... You owe me, man. You have no idea how hard it has been trying to stop them from bringing one of their shrinks to you. I know how much you love them." Danny gave him a teasing smirk as he entered the room, holding a rolled newspaper and coffee. With him, the room soon bathed in light. He took the only chair in the room and sat next to the bed.

"Hilarious." Tony grimaced as he tried to find a comfortable position against the pillows.

"I know you fight to the last breath when it comes to hospitals and meds, but you really should stop putting on the brave face. Let them give you something to ease that pain. It won't make you any less of a man. Trust me. If it does, I promise I won't gossip."

"Pain is what keeps me sane." Tony shot a grim look at Danny. He found himself getting angry for no reason that instead of Gibbs, or 'the others', it was Danny who kept visiting him. It was ironic, really, knowing how much pain and sorrow they had caused him. He'd be happy seeing only Ducky and Jimmy, though. He needed stability, no matter how unstable it was.

"You're making no sense, man." Danny shook his head as he turned his gaze back on the newspaper he had started reading. His other hand was holding the coffee mug and, noticing how Tony looked rather longingly toward it, he shook his head again. "Nope. No coffee for you. Take it as your punishment for losing it before."

Groaning at the memory, Tony wiped a hand over his face.

When he first felt that mind splitting agony trying to pull him toward both realities, he had lost it, scaring the nurses and other people near his room when he started screaming in Italian, like his nonna used to, and throwing things. Luckily, he calmed down before he could be forcibly sedated. He explained his behavior as extreme boredom. It was obvious that no one bought his lame excuse, but so far they had let it go, with some serious threat to sedate him next time he lost it. No questions asked. After that, they moved him into another room that had a TV and left him there, but not without giving him some nasty looks first.

TV had caused a whole another list of issues. He found himself ignoring any news and talk shows as much as he could. Even though on one channel there was a James Bond movie on, he found himself unable to watch it. That if anything would have worried his teammates, or it would have before things went down the way they had.

His 'teammates'...

Tony grimaced as he tried his best to push away any thoughts that had something to do with NCIS and the people he had come to think of as his 'family'. Perhaps this was some kind of dream come true. After all, they wouldn't mind not having him in their lives. It wasn't that he really minded this either. Really. He was as happy as he could be. So happy... He felt a sharp pain in his chest, which had nothing to do with the bullet wound near his heart.

"You know, you really don't have to drag yourself here after work. I'm sure you could use some sleep. You look like crap."

"Speak for yourself. Have you looked in the mirror lately?" Danny looked pointedly at Tony, who barely kept himself from remembering the only time he had looked in the mirror, after which his world had tilted and flipped upside down. Ever since then, he'd been stuck in a merry-go-round that was broken; moving painfully slow, but sometimes so fast and unevenly that he felt dizzy and sick to his stomach.

"Besides... I might've been put on hold for a while. Meaning, until the shooting incident has been cleared, we're on vacation." The look on Danny's face told Tony exactly how he felt about that. Normally, Tony would have agreed wholeheartedly, but maybe for the first time, ever, he wasn't sure if he could handle going to work. What did that even mean? Going to work as a Detective or Agent?

"I feel like I'm Alice and I fell down the rabbit hole... And I'm still falling."

Danny gave him an odd look, but wisely didn't comment. He changed the subject. "You know, Wendy has been dying to see you. You can thank me later for keeping her away, so far. You better man up and put on your best charming smile because, ready or not, she's coming tomorrow."

For a moment, Tony's mind went blank. Wendy? Too much had happened ever since she left him. Wait... They were still together? So the wedding disaster hadn't happened yet. Perhaps he had not even proposed to her... "I'm not sure if that's a good idea."

The look on Danny's face was almost comical. "You trying to tell me something? You would much rather spend time with your work partner than your girlfriend?"

"You're the one who keeps coming here uninvited." Tony fought back the boiling anger. It wasn't Danny's fault, this situation. However, since he didn't have anyone to blame, anyone coming close to him ended up getting their share of the overwhelming emotions.

"Easy there. Look, man... I'd be bored at home, so I come here to get my daily comic relief. You're having mood swings like a woman."

"Hi-larious." Tony tried to keep his face neutral, but found himself fighting a smile. Soon though, it was back to grim look as his thoughts wandered to his 'other life'.

"See? That one right there proves my point. What have they been giving you, or is this another one of your strange reactions to the good stuff?"

"Go home. Leave me alone," Tony grumbled, not realizing how very Gibbs-like his tone just then sounded, or how much in general he had been 'channeling Gibbs' for these couple of days when he'd been awake. Ignoring Danny, he turned his back toward the man and pulled the sheets over his head, not caring if he was acting like a five-year-old.

Danny shook his head and went back to reading the newspaper. Not that his brains registered anything he was reading. More often than it was needed, his gaze wandered back toward the lump in the bed that was his partner. He was confused. Surely not gunshots or even a coma would cause such a messed up head as that. There wasn't even a concussion, which was surprising for someone like Tony, who seemed to be getting a few of those now and then like it was nothing. Was it really the drugs then?

Danny held back his grin, when Tony mumbled sleepily, "The old Gibbs would've bullied the hospital staff by now, and he would take me home."

He had no idea who this Gibbs person was, who Tony kept mentioning, usually when he thought no one would hear him. Staring at his partner, Danny wondered how could one man's personality change so much in such a short time. He wasn't used to dealing with this moody version of Tony. The man he had come to know as his carefree partner was almost always smiling and joking around. Flirting with the ladies. Always some perfect movie reference to throw in at every situation. There had barely been hints of smiles, no joking, no flirting, and worst of all... No movie references. Unless you wanted to count the Alice in Wonderland comment a few moments ago. Somehow, though, he didn't think that one would count.

"Get some actual sleep now. I'll make sure no one drugs you. I'll watch your back, man." Shaking his head when he got no answer, other than the silence that somehow had grown heavier, although, he could tell from the breathing that Tony wasn't sleeping, Danny got up from the chair and flipped the light switch off, turning the room dark again. "I'll go see if I can find us something to eat, and then I'll come back. Sorry, no pizza though." Getting no answer, he left.

After waiting for a moment, Tony sat up, pushing away the reminder of the pain that would surely get worse when he was moving around. Once he made sure there was nothing attached to him, he got slowly on his feet. He was grateful that, although still a bit shaky, this time his feet were carrying his full weight. More or less. Finding the clothes, which Danny had brought for him, Tony changed as fast as he could. In his current state, that wasn't happening any faster than what an old man with shaky hands could do. Cursing when he couldn't put on his T-shirt, he gave up on that and simply put his jacket on.

Walking straight to sign himself out AMA, he gave them a very Gibbs-like glare, daring anyone to argue with him. Once outside, he took a deep breath, enjoying his moment of freedom.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Tony took one step back and stared. He had barely made it outside the hospital when another familiar face walked toward him. Once again, he felt as if he had fallen down the rabbit hole, or like he had stepped in a time machine and now his past and present worlds were colliding. In a nasty way. "Hello, Wendy."

"Hello, Wendy? Is that the first thing you say to your girlfriend? I know from what Danny told me that your head is a little messed up right now, but I am hurt. No hugs and kisses?" She smiled teasingly.

In the past, Tony would have answered with some suggestive comment, but looking at this woman now, all he could feel was the deep hurt of her walking away from him. All he could remember was that he had moved on. Forcing a ghost of a smile on his face, he stepped forward and hugged her. If the formal way of hugging her didn't ring any alarm bells in her head, then the even more formal kiss on the cheek did.

"Tony?" Wendy pushed away from the hug and looked at him from head to toe. The confusion on her face brought that little feeling of guilt.

"We'll talk later. I promise." Shaking his head at her unsaid questions, he ignored her calling after him and walked away, hoping she would take the hint to just leave him alone for now.

Dropping the keys on the chair, Tony let his gaze wander around the small apartment. It looked exactly as he remembered it.

When he had started working at the NCIS, he got a better and bigger place to live in, which after a while had started to even feel like home. But before, or now, he didn't care about a place where he would barely even come to sleep, when he was lucky enough to not be tied up to work, or when he was made to take a few days off.

Looking through his clothes in his bedroom, he smiled weakly. His taste in clothes had been much more casual than what it was now. Danny and his teasing. If only he knew... Seeing a pair of tube socks laying on his bed, Tony let out a sound of laughter before it turned into tears. He ended up sitting on his bed with his head between his hands, crying silently as his overwhelming feelings finally caught up with him, and there wasn't anyone around to see him. No one to look down on him because of his unmanly show of emotions.

Eventually, the crying changed into sounds of sleeping. With the exhaustion taking over, Tony allowed himself to be pulled further into sleep, and soon he was dreaming.

"Jethro! What happened?" Ducky ran toward Gibbs, who was sitting near Tony's car.

There was a look of desperation on Gibbs' face as he looked up from the body of someone in his arms. "He won't wake up. No matter what I do. I don't know what happened, but I think he was suffering from a headache. Bad one. He's been unconscious since I called you. I don't know... What's wrong with him, Ducky?"

The older man moved closer to examine Tony. The look on his face was grim. "You did call the ambulance, did you? Jethro!"

Snapping out of his daze, Gibbs nodded slowly. "They're on their way. Should be here soon." There was a flash of fear, and desperation, as he looked at Ducky again. "You don't think that he..?"

Ducky's lips were smiling but his eyes were not. "I'm sure our Anthony will be just fine, Jethro. We should not be making any assumptions just yet." Getting on his aging feet, Ducky gave a gentle pat on his friend's shoulder, and then made his way toward the sudden noise, which meant the ambulance was finally there.

Gibbs closed his eyes tightly before he opened them again, gazing down at his too pale Senior Field Agent. "You'll be fine, or I will slap you so hard you're going to still feel it when you're gray and old. You hear that, DiNozzo? You better wake up soon. If you don't, I..." He closed his mouth firmly, shaking his head. Running his hand through the soft hair, Gibbs paid no attention to his other team members —plus Abby and Palmer—rushing there; all speaking at the same time. If he had been his usual self, he would've growled at them to shut their mouths. Nothing about him was usual.

"Wake up, son... Wake up..."

"Wake up..."

Snapping his eyes open, Tony was wide awake, feeling as if someone had rubbed bitter salt into his wounds and then laughed at his pain. Of all things to dream about... To dream that Gibbs would treat him with such care. "I really was dreaming this time..."

Getting up, he let his hand touch his head. The memory and feeling of the rough hand on his head was strong. It had been strange, dreaming about his NCIS life again. Although it was as if he'd been watching a movie, watching the scene play in front of his eyes. It felt strangely real. 'Felt real'...

"I need something strong..." Finding only a few bottles of warm beer in the kitchen, he sat down to drink. "This could be twenty-year-old beer I'm drinking." The thought made him snicker.

Feeling lost in his own mind, he wrapped his shaking hand around the bottle and went to get his phone. Biting his bottom lip nervously, he almost started calling the number he knew he'd never forget, but then changed his mind. There was no way he could call from his own phone. Not when he was still thinking, 'what if?'

Making sure he was dressed warmly, he took a cab and let the driver take him far enough from his apartment. Outside some shady bar was a rather filthy looking phone booth, but he barely even noticed the way it looked, and even smelled, when someone answered from the number he was calling, causing the world to tilt.

"Gibbs," the familiar voice grumbled, and hearing it, Tony froze. "Hello? Hello! You better start talking or—! "

Tony stared at the phone. He just hung up on Gibbs. More than that, though, it was Gibbs. The number was real. There was no way he could get that from a dream, right? The number just happened to belong to someone with the name Gibbs, who had the same voice and way of talking. It had been, after all, nothing but a dream. All of it. Just a dream.

Chapter Text

Drinking his lukewarm coffee, Tony kept making sure his gun, backup gun, and more than a few hidden knives were there and ready to use. One of the things that his crazy dream had done to him was make sure he always had at least one knife with him wherever he went to. To some, it may have looked like he was being paranoid. And he had thrown away his tube socks.

Two months. That's how long it had taken for him to get his act together. Some more strange dreams, a few more breakdowns, and he finally even lost the fight against his need for shrinks. Obviously, he had played them like the skilled actor he was, gave them what they wanted to hear, and he was back to work soon after.

Having to sit in the same car with him, Danny finally commented on the constant gun handling. "You know, if you're not careful, you're going to end up shooting yourself—or worse, me—in the foot. And what's with all those knives? You're making me nervous."

"You can never be too careful. As for the knives... Rule 9."

"Rule 9?" Danny snorted.

Flashing a smile that didn't reach his eyes, Tony put his gun away. "Never go anywhere without a knife."

"Where did you pick that from?"

The smile vanished for a second. "It's just a rule. Someday you're going to thank me for keeping it."

Danny gave Tony the side-eye. Despite the shrink having given Tony the green light, Danny had his suspicions at times like these. Knowing his partner's undercover skills better than some, he truly hoped what he saw daily wasn't just another of the many undercover personas.

He eyed the coffee Tony was savoring. "How can you drink that?" The smell alone gave him all the caffeine he needed. Not understanding the tight line that had appeared on the man's face, Danny was even more confused. "You didn't drink it that strong before. Besides, you're usually already hyper enough without all the caffeine you're soaking yourself in."

"I just like my coffee strong now. What's the big deal? Now drop it. This isn't the time or place."

The truth was that Tony hated the coffee, but lately, for some odd reason, he had started doing things he would have never done before, like drinking coffee so strong it could very well destroy his stomach, and his kids and grandkids would be born high on caffeine. He had also signed himself up for some woodworking class, and had a sudden liking for black T-shirts with bats and skulls and other odd small accessories, which were really not his thing. To make things worse, after one drunken night, he nearly got a tattoo on his ass. It didn't happen, thanks to Wendy, who found him barely in time. The resulting scolding he received was fairly embarrassing.

He'd been avoiding any 'big talks' with Wendy ever since they met at the hospital, choosing to act as if nothing was wrong. Although, once he found the engagement ring in his apartment, he took it back to the store. Thanks to the crazy dream he had while in that coma, he was not sure if he was ready to propose 'again', ever. Sure, it was stupid, but he was afraid that the reality would imitate his dream.

Besides his other studying, he had also started improving his skills behind the computer. If nothing else, at least his typing skills had improved greatly. With all that overworking, and then his studying, he was sometimes beyond tired, which was why his new coffee addiction came in handy. Then he had started spending much more time at the morgue. After a week of silence, the Medical Examiner in there had actually started talking to him. However, when he asked if the old man ever talked to the dead people, he got a weird look and another few days of silence before they went back to talking. He wisely never mentioned the talking to the dead again. Then last week, while doing some general shopping, he'd walked by a small figurine of a female ninja. He almost bought it, but then realized he had indeed lost his mind. It was McGeek's job to buy stuff like that.

"Someone came out," Danny said, peering out of the window

Tony felt his mouth go dry as he thought he saw a pair of icy-blue eyes and maybe even gray hair. No... Real life would not be the same as his dream. But still, just in case... "You go first."

Danny looked at him for half a second too long before he took off, his partner following him with uncertain steps. Tony kept thinking that this was not his dream and he would not lose himself. Not now, never again. However, the moment he stood face to face with the older man who had that smug half-grin on his face, he let Danny do the talking, since there was no way he could get any words out of his mouth. The world was spinning again, and all he could do was try to keep his breathing calm and even.

Tony finally spoke once the three of them were in the car. He was driving, with Danny in the back seat with their 'suspect'. "So... Navy guy," he said, startling the other two. "What made you come here all the way to Baltimore? No, wait. Let me guess. Undercover?" There was the edge of hysteria that he barely kept from leaking into his voice. "What's your name? Wait, let me guess. George. No? Tyler. Gibbs. Did I get it right?" He put on some fake excitement and flashed them over his shoulder the fakest smile he had ever worn, and hit his foot down hard in anger.

"Tony..! Slow down!" Danny grabbed the door handle as Tony ended up speeding through Baltimore.

The man in question, Gibbs, was more shocked by Tony's straight on point 'guesses'. He didn't even notice the speeding, as his own usual driving was way worse than this. Although, this did have some similarities with his own. There was this odd feeling in his gut, which Gibbs couldn't possibly understand, and he stared at what he could see of this cocky young Detective. He felt the terrible urge to slap the man's head. Unfortunately, his hands had been cuffed, so the head-slap had to wait. He couldn't stop his fingers from twitching, however.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. There was no way his cover could've been blown, and as far as he could remember, he'd never met this man before, and yet from the moment they saw each other, there had been a strange feeling. Something had almost... clicked. Stars aligned, as Abby would say. It felt as if they had always known each other. And looking at the way this Detective behaved, it was as if he indeed did know him. Just who was he?

Tony slammed the door shut after he stepped outside the car. He was filled with unexplained fury and that same confusion was back, which had still plagued him a couple of weeks ago. This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not ever. He had left it all behind him. It couldn't be happening.

"What is wrong with you?!" Danny yelled the moment they were inside the station, having left Gibbs to sit in a chair further away. "If you can't put your head straight, maybe you did come back too soon!"

"I want out."

"What?" Danny took a step back, looking confused.

"I want out of this case. You're right, I need the time off for a couple of days or so. Or maybe I could do some paper work."

"You're... actually offering to do paper work? Tony... Is something wrong? What am I asking... Of course something's wrong. The question is what."

"You wouldn't understand."

"I'll see what I can do about getting someone to pair up with me, while you take that time off. But we will talk about this later. You do owe me that much, man. You nearly killed us all with your driving. I mean, what was that? Who are you, and what have you done to my partner? Who or what possessed you? Did you get kidnapped by the aliens or something? You know, that would explain everything."

Tony knew there was no way he was going to open up his crazy mind to anyone. "Yeah, sure. I'll go get some coffee. I'll be back soon. By the way, that navy guy is working undercover. I'm sure with few phone calls you can make sure that's the case."

"How would you know that?"

Tony just waved his hand as he walked away.

"You didn't answer my questions!" Danny watched with bemusement as his partner threw his arms up in the air as some kind of substitute for a shrug before disappearing from his sight. With a sigh, he took his time before going back to the 'suspect', who looked irate.

"Hey, you. Where's your partner?"

Danny gave the man a wary look before removing the handcuffs. "I know my partner told me you're some navy cop, but if you try something, I will make sure you regret it." He sat down in the chair behind his desk and eyed the older man with suspicion. The man had such sure of himself look on his face. It felt almost like he was mocking him without even using any words. While he was still trying to figure out how his partner would know him, Danny raised his eyebrows when, without asking, the man stood up and helped himself to the coffee. He grimaced when, after tasting it once, the man dropped the mug in a trash can.

"I asked, where's your partner?" the man repeated his question, looking annoyed.

Danny rubbed his forehead. "Coffee run. Look. Could we get on with this? Who are you and what were you doing there? If you've ruined our hard work, I will make sure our boss has a talk with yours."

The man looked amused. "I'm not stopping you. As your partner already told, my name is Gibbs. I work for—"

"NCIS," Danny finished with a blank look on his face. In the car, he had been too focused on praying for his dear life, but now the name brought back a faint memory of all those times when Tony had mentioned it. Especially the first time after he woke up from the coma...

"What do you do for a living?"

"NCIS..."

"NCIS?"

"Stands for Naval Criminal Investigative Service..."

"Oh... I see... Listen, Detective... What is the last thing you remember?"

"Not sure... It's kind of fuzzy. I remember I had the mother of all headaches and then Gibbs was there and—"

"Gibbs?"

"My boss."

"Detective!"

Danny snapped back to the present time. Seeing the pissed off look on the older man's face, he couldn't help but flinch, and dropped his gaze down to some papers laying on his desk.

"Detective. I think it would work for the best for both of us if we didn't waste more time with this nonsense. As I was saying—"

Tony chose that moment to walk back in there with two large mugs of coffee. "There you go, Agent Gibbs. Coffee."

Giving a suspicious look toward the mug, which was given to him, but then after tasting the coffee, Gibbs was suddenly a very happy man.

Danny stared in shock at how fast the man, who had looked like a dynamite ready to explode, had calmed down with some coffee. It must've been drugged, he figured, remembering the other coffee in the trash can. "What's in it?" he whispered to Tony.

"Coffee."

"And?"

"Strong coffee. This kind of coffee." Tony held up his own coffee and Danny grimaced.

When Tony was clearly leaving again, Gibbs asked, "Aren't you going to join me and your partner?"

"No. I asked to be left out of this case. For personal reasons, it's better if I have nothing to do with it. You did speak with the boss, did you?" Tony looked at Danny, who shrugged.

"Not yet, but I will once I've dealt with this one."

Gibbs kept staring at him, which made Tony extremely uncomfortable, but he refused to be the one to stop their staring contest. He kept tapping his fingers against the coffee mug, the only sign that he wasn't feeling as calm as he looked.

"You know, I could use some help," Gibbs started, still staring.

"I won't be working with you, if that's what you're trying to say. If I have to, I will break my leg and be put on sick leave. But I'm sure Danny would be happy to help." That last part earned him a murderous glare from his partner. Tony flashed a grin, which disappeared when Gibbs opened his mouth again.

"I'd like to see you try, but working with me might not be fun with a broken leg."

"You wouldn't dare." Of course he would, Tony realized. He put as much hostility into his attitude as he could muster. Better let the man think he was someone who hated feds. "Look, man. No offense, but I don't want to have anything to do with you. Is that clear?" He then turned around sharply and walked away, to avoid suffering through any other moments of 'Gibbsness'. Right now, he needed a moment alone, away from prying eyes while he had a small breakdown over running into Gibbs.

Danny gave Gibbs an apologetic look. "I hope you can forgive him. He hasn't been exactly the same since he woke up from a coma. He's getting better, but for whatever reason, running into you has messed him up again."

Although his mind was full of questions, and his gut trying to tell him something, Gibbs held himself back as he thought about how he could easily just get people back home to find out everything about these people. From birth to this very moment. Their future if he had to. He'd find out every little detail, even if he had to bring out his second 'b for bastard'. You did not run away from Gibbs with the answers, if you didn't want him to dig them out himself.

Chapter Text

Anthony DiNozzo Junior was not a happy man. The words 'pissed off' didn't do justice to his current state of mind. No, he was beyond angry. 

"How dare he! There's no way he can just march in here with some piece of paper and claim me! What does that even mean?!" He was fuming as he raised his hand to get the waitress' attention. "Another! Make it double!"

"Hey, Tony, man... Maybe you should slow it down. I don't want to have a repeat of you with caffeine overdose." Danny's voice wasn't even heard as his, vibrating with anger, partner kept emptying a coffee cup after coffee cup. Well, at least it was just a cup and not the usual big mug they would buy their coffee in while on the move. Knowing the strength of that coffee made Danny's face twist in disgust and horror, knowing full well how the normally hyper young Detective would behave with such amounts of caffeine in his system. And there was no way it was good for anyone's health. Danny shook his head and looked at his own—still the first and only—drink with disgust. "I'm pretty sure by now, instead of blood, there's coffee in your veins. Maybe we should go back before the storm hits us in here. I may not know the man, but even I can tell he's not blessed with patience."

The mention of Gibbs only added more fuel to the fire, and Tony exploded once more. "What is wrong with him anyway?! If I see one more sight of that piece of paper of his, I'm going to take it and use it as a toilet paper! No. I'm going to shove it so deep in his—!"

"Here's your coffee."

"Thank you." With a charming smile, Tony nodded his thanks to the waitress and went back to drinking. Drinking and fuming. There was no sign of him calming down anytime soon, but while he was drinking his coffee, he was quiet. In his mind, however, he was running through different scenarios of what he could do with the 'direct orders'. Orders from his boss, the boss above his boss, the Director of NCIS, and the worst of them all, Gibbs himself. Who on earth would go through this much trouble to make his life hell? Gibbs would. Of course. He wanted to punch that smug grin off the man's face.

After Gibbs had left the station, he left with a promise to come back. Tony should have known better, to take it as a real threat. Exactly a week later today, Gibbs had walked in and stopped in front of Tony's desk, all arrogant and smug, as was his style.

"I told you I'd be back," was the answer to the unsaid question as Tony looked up from his now forgotten paperwork.

The frown on Tony's face wasn't exactly welcoming, with the open distaste, and even hostility. "Look, Gibbs. I have no idea what you want from us this time, but as far as I know, the case is closed. Both cases."

"Not us. You."

"Sorry?"

"Trouble with hearing, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked. Then he handed over a piece of legal looking paper. "I'm here to claim you. There's more of these, but I'm sure the orders of your own boss should be enough for now."

"Seriously? Are you trying to say that, by using some lame excuse, you're going to drag me around with you? Are you punishing me for something?"

Gibbs was startled. "Punishing? No. I have a case where I could use the help of someone in Baltimore. I just happened to choose you. That a reason enough for you?"

Narrowing his eyes, Tony stood up. "I don't believe my boss would agree with any of this."

"Maybe not, but his boss did." Having said that, Gibbs dropped another piece of paper on the desk.

For a moment, Tony just stared at the paper as the anger inside him grew, and finally threatened to explode. The walls were closing in, and he knew he had to get out of there. "Coffee!" was the only word he got out as he stormed out, almost running over Danny. Following Tony, they ended up sitting down for coffee.

"The nerve of that man! As if he'd really need our help with all the resources and workers they have at the NCIS. What we have is a joke compared to their fancy equipment, and people they can hire to make their job easier."

"Not our help. Yours." Danny looked puzzled by the amount of anger coming from his partner. "Look, Tony. It'll be just one job. Once it's done, you'll be back here, solving Baltimore crimes. Hey, if you're lucky, maybe the navy cop will offer you a job? He does seem rather determined of having you to work with him. If it were me, I'd feel honored. I mean, the pay must be better, right?"

That last statement was finally what put an end to Tony's seemingly endless coffee drinking. Something clicked in his brains, and he looked at Danny with narrowed eyes, until the look on his face softened, making him look almost sad. His sudden change of character confused his partner even further. "You do know that money isn't everything, right?"

"Yeah, sure, but it would grow my wardrobe bigger and better, and I could even afford to have a life. Money might not be everything, but it sure would make our life a whole lot easier." Danny smirked and took a sip of his now cold drink.

"That reminds me. Is that a new suit again?" Tony took another sip of his own coffee, while reading his partner's face and body language. So far, he had ignored his own gut feelings by blaming his crazy dream for messing with his head, and putting such thoughts in there. He couldn't stop the uneasiness torturing him, though.

Danny looked slightly uncomfortable. "Ah. Yeah. I had to use my savings to buy it, but it does look nice. Doesn't it? Totally worth it. It wouldn't hurt you either, updating your wardrobe once in a while. Lately it's been getting even worse. You're starting to look like one of those biker dudes out there."

"Different T-shirts don't make me look any different from before. I don't, however, see the reason for buying expensive clothes with our salary. Sure, one or two would be nice, after saving the money for it." He didn't bother mentioning that after his dream, he didn't really mind the expensive suits. Despite the fact that he'd been mostly using them as an armor of sorts, instead of the general good feel of comfort, or a good sense of style.

"That's why I would run with open arms after a job offer that has a bigger salary."

"Why, I thought you're doing this job because you like helping people and solving crimes." Tony smiled, and Danny's posture relaxed.

"Well sure, but if I can do my job and get a nice pay for it, wouldn't that be even better?" Danny winked, and the men laughed; one relaxed, the other forced, and one of them was none the wiser.

"There's one thing I don't understand. You've got all that money just sitting in your bank, and you never even touch it." Danny couldn't hide the envy in his voice.

Tony rolled his eyes. "I knew I should have never told you about it. In my defense, I was drunk. That money was left for me by my grandparents. There's no way I'm going to use it so easily. If I did, I'm pretty sure my old man would somehow get a sniff of it, and he'd be behind my door faster than the blood hound. I want to avoid it for as long as I can, or at least use it sparingly... If I were broke, then maybe it would be another story."

"You're crazy, man."

"Not as crazy as you. I wouldn't spend my savings unless I really had to. You never know when you might need it. Save for a rainy day and all that."

"You don't spend any money, unless it involves your baby." By that, Danny meant Tony's pride and joy, his car. "And that insane movie collection of yours. You still need to buy yourself at least one nice suit, though. You never know when you might need one."

"I'll think about it, if you think about what I said."

Drinking coffee in his car was Gibbs, with his full focus at the coffee shop on the other side of the street. He could just barely see the heads of the two detectives sitting in there. This had better be worth the trouble.

He couldn't believe his luck when another crime took him back to Baltimore so soon after the last one. Sure, he should feel sorry for the poor dead bastard, but as far as he knew, the wife beating bastard only got what he deserved. There wasn't so far anyone interested in seeing 'justice' happening, so he was going to make this case last as long as he could. He needed all the time he could get to crack the mystery of one Anthony D. DiNozzo Jr.

DiNozzo's file didn't tell him anything, and it was just like the young man himself, where you were made to think you know everything, yet at the same time you knew nothing at all. No more and no less. Even most of the undercover backstories gave more than those useless pieces of information he had of this one.

"What's this? There's nothing in it." Gibbs dropped the file he'd been reading, if it could be called that.

"That's his whole file, though. From his parents to the schools he went to. His work history. All the important details," the young, foolishly brave Agent said. His brave act didn't last long under Gibbs' famous glare.

"I don't want to know about his school or work history! I want to know about him! What's his favorite color! What pets did he have as a kid! Who are his friends and enemies!" Losing his patience, Gibbs stormed out of the bullpen and went to Abby, taking the file with him.

"I have a job for you, Abbs," he grumbled and startled the young goth working in the lab.

"Gibbs! Don't do that!" Despite saying that, she soon had her arms around Gibbs in her usual bone-crushing hug.

Giving a kiss on her forehead, he handed her the file. "Show me your magic, Abbs. I want to know everything."

Abby stared at the picture of the young Detective. "Who's he? Is he going to be working here? He looks like one of those pretty boys. Movie star handsome. You don't really think he'd be fit for a job like yours? I don't want some pretty boy here if he can't even watch your back. What if he gets you hurt, or worse, killed?"

"Abby!"

"On it, Bossman!" Giving him a mock salute, Abby sat down to begin her work. Reaching toward her almost finished Caf-Pow, she was handed a new one. "I knew there's a reason why I love you!"

Shaking his head with a half-smile, Gibbs almost left the lab before stopping for a moment. "Another thing... Try to find if there's anything in his past where he and I might have met. Maybe even people we both know."

"You think you already know him? Gibbs?" Abby turned around in her chair, only to see the older man was already gone. "I hate when he does that..."

In the end, Abby had indeed found a lot about the Detective. Strangely, even his favorite pizza, and that the Detective had been disowned at the age of twelve; a small detail that, for some reason, had made Gibbs angry for the rest of the day. Abby had found answers to many questions and yet even with her special magic, Gibbs wasn't pleased, which in turn made Abby upset, for not being able to fulfill her Bossman's wishes.

Not one to give up when a challenge had been thrown, Gibbs wasn't going to give up now either. Sure, his newfound obsession didn't make sense, but his gut feeling simply refused to give him a moment of peace.

Gibbs felt the corners of his mouth twist in amusement when the detectives came out of the coffee shop and the target of his obsession spotted him. Tony had a spooked expression on his face. He took hold of his partner and shook him, yelling something, looking as if he was high on something. The beginning of a smile fell as Gibbs started to worry about what he was getting himself into.

"He's all yours, Agent." The Detective, Danny Price, had the nerve to look rather pleased with himself as he opened the door to the passenger seat and Tony stumbled inside.

Throwing his patented 'Gibbs-glare', Gibbs started his car and took off as soon as the door was closed, leaving a bemused Danny standing in the cloud of dust.

Tapping his fingers against the door handle, Tony kept twisting and fidgeting in his seat. He was at his limits. Way over. If this Gibbs was the same as the Gibbs in his dream, he knew it was wiser to sit still and keep his mouth shut, but couldn't stop himself from talking or doing something with his hands and feet. And then there was all that added caffeine... By now, they were out of Baltimore, and the older man hadn't uttered one word to him. He couldn't take it anymore.

"Are we there yet?" No answer, but Tony was pretty sure he saw the man's fingers twitch on the steering wheel. "Where are we going anyway?" Still no answer. "You know, a little warning would have been nice. I could've taken my overnight emergency bag with me." Silence. "You're not much of a talker, are you, navy guy?" That earned him the patented 'Gibbs-glare'. Well, it was something. Only in a dream or not, but never having been one to cower under that glare, Tony simply smiled brightly.

After a surprisingly long ten minutes of keeping his mouth shut, he opened his mouth again. "Are we going to be there soon? I really need to use the bathroom..." No answer.

Starting to regret his caffeine intake, Tony changed the radio channel for the third time during the last five minutes, and who knows how many times during the whole ride. His hand began tapping along with the beat of some very loud rap music. Next, his feet joined the beat, and before long, he was singing.

Barely three minutes later, Tony was changing the channel again. "Ah! I remember this one movie I once saw—I was just a kid then—this song kept on playing in my head for weeks. It drew my nanny almost insane. Our housekeeper found it hilarious, though, and then I rewatched the movie with his blessing. I think he was secretly enjoying the torture my nanny went through because of it. I loved the movie back then. Now it seems too silly, but back then it was all I wanted to watch for weeks straight. I think it was because I could relate to the main character, even if it was a girl. Not that I think it really matters that much. It was the story and—"

In the middle of his usual 'Gibbs speeding', the man braked hard, making Tony hit his head. "Get out," was the only thing Gibbs managed to utter between his teeth, and Tony more than happily obeyed. He was barely out of the car, when Gibbs closed the door and took off, leaving Tony standing in the middle of the empty road, bemused.

"He couldn't just slap my head?"

Not the type to expect anyone to come and get him—after all, this was Gibbs' doing—Tony shrugged and started walking toward the nearest bus stop he remembered seeing. Somewhere. For a moment, he was grateful there were no other people around as he rushed to relieve himself behind some bushes. Well, at least he got his 'bathroom break', but of course he had forgotten his phone at the coffee shop...

It was starting to get dark and a little cold as one very annoyed Detective was still walking. He was pretty sure by now he should have found the bus stop. He didn't understand how he had managed to get lost. He wasn't exactly in the middle of nowhere. It had to be the caffeine. There was no other explanation.

"Anthony... You woke up from that coma too soon... You could be resting nicely in a warm bed. Pretty nurses taking care of you. Giving you sponge baths..."

Noticing the first car lights in what seemed like hours—but could be few minutes for all he cared—coming from behind him, Tony almost felt relief for a possible ride back home when, unlike the others, the car slowed down. Knowing his luck, it would be a serial killer. Taking one look at the driver, Tony wondered which would be worse: walking until he found his way back, or sitting back in the car with Gibbs. He'd almost rather take the serial killer. That would be far less unpredictable.

The older man rolled down the window, looking as if nothing was out of place. "Hop in. Don't make me wait the whole night here, DiNozzo."

To the death of him, Gibbs wasn't going to admit that he'd been driving around, trying to find the young man. He had only planned to leave him to use up the obvious extra energy, while he took a break in a small diner not far from where he left Tony. Had Tony kept walking forward, they would have met there. Gibbs broke his own rule by assuming that Tony would go where the sign pointed him to. Instead, he had found himself staring at the loud clock ticking on the wall, with no sign of Tony. Of course, the man hadn't answered his phone either. After all the trouble he had gone through getting the number, which for some reason was hard to get. Why couldn't anything go as he had planned when Tony DiNozzo was involved?

"Well?" He watched as, after a moment of hesitation, Tony walked to the car and started fumbling with the passenger door. Grumbling under his breath, Gibbs reached over and opened the door. He watched as Tony got inside the car, closed the door just a little too hard, and after a couple of failed attempts, managed to put the seat belt on.

Driving just a little slower than usual, since it was getting darker, Gibbs found himself getting annoyed at the silence. "So, how much coffee did you drink?" Silence was the only answer he got. Looking at the man next to him, he saw him sleeping. It was obvious, even in his sleep, that Tony was freezing. Turning on the heat, Gibbs pinched his nose. He was not feeling guilty. He wasn't going to be caught apologizing. No, he was feeling guilty, and had no idea what to do with it. Shrugging off his own jacket, he placed it on Tony. Putting the radio back on, he rubbed his tired face. It was going to be a miserable drive...

Chapter Text

Opening his eyes, the first thing he saw were the bright city lights. Rubbing the back of his stiff neck, Tony let his mind wake up slowly while trying to guess where he was. He was sitting in a car, that was for sure. Looking next to him, he saw the driver of the car, who looked like he could use some sleep as well.

"Gibbs?" Suddenly it all came back. Oh, what he wouldn't give for one nice memory loss. Preferably from the moment he woke up from that coma.

"Almost there," Gibbs finally said. Without his beloved coffee, and after long days of work behind him, he found it hard to stay awake. However, he wasn't one to crash his car with a passenger on, so with a pure power of his will alone, he hadn't fallen asleep. He had even been driving his car slower than he had in years.

"Where exactly are we going?" Although Tony asked, he had a pretty good idea after seeing the familiar road. Knowing where they were heading made the knot in his stomach even tighter. He didn't want this. For a good reason, he had been against going anywhere with Gibbs. Doing anything with the man. He could barely hold his messed up head together, but if he had to face more things from his dream, he might as well sign himself into the nearest nuthouse.

"My place. To sleep."

Please, no. "Uh. Sure. You could drop me off at some hotel on the way. Or just leave me on the side of the road. I can walk."

Gibbs looked annoyed. "Did I say anything about a hotel? I said my place. Sleep." Clearly, the older man's brain cells weren't all working properly anymore, so Tony chose wisely to remain quiet for the rest of the drive.

The house looked exactly as he remembered it, with a few minor differences here and there. For example, the house looked freshly painted. Standing outside the building was hard for Tony, but stepping inside was a whole another issue. Try as he did, he couldn't move his feet.

"Get in." Just with that, a short command from Gibbs, and the spell was broken.

The front door was unlocked, and Tony didn't even bother trying to look surprised. Doing his very best to not look around, he followed Gibbs inside the building. It didn't last long when he tripped over something.

Gibbs barely even looked at him. "Watch your step."

Looking around the room, Tony noticed moving boxes everywhere. Before he could stop himself, he had opened his big mouth again, grinning widely. "Ex-wife number three?"

Gibbs just glared at Tony. Somewhere in his tired mind, he knew there was something very odd about what the young man had just said. "Upstairs. Guest bedroom."

"Right..."

It was as if the walls were closing in around him when Tony slowly made his way upstairs. Opening the door to the guest room, he could only stare. How many memories did he have of this room? It had pretty much become his. During the years, the room had been filled with his belongings, and some of his things ended up in other parts of the house as well. Until everything jumped into the winter zone. He stopped visiting, just as Gibbs stopped inviting him over.

"Yes. That's the room. Now go to sleep. We'll get to work tomorrow morning." Gibbs didn't question how his guest had found the right room without a moment of hesitation. He left Tony in 'his' room and went straight to bed himself.

Sitting carefully on the bed, Tony stared at his hands. It felt so wrong, being here. He felt... At home. Being in this house, he could feel a connection between the dream and reality. Or reality and the dream. He didn't even know anymore. Maybe he never would. He knew that simply ignoring the problem wasn't going to do him any good and didn't make it go away, but the whole idea of acknowledging that maybe, just maybe, he should take his dream and situation more seriously, wasn't going to happen anytime too soon. Perhaps there was something seriously wrong with his brains. Maybe the doctors at the hospital missed something. Maybe... Maybe this reality was the dream, after all.

Closing his eyes, Tony could easily picture himself in the future, before, sitting in this room. Watching some movie from the TV he'd brought with him after one of his longer stays. Laughing at some joke in the movie and trying to explain to the older man sitting next to him why it was so funny.

"Come on, boss! It's funny!"

"What I don't get is how you're watching a movie with a title that sounds like it's some chick flick."

"It's called Princess Bride, boss, and you're like that kid who keeps interrupting during the movie."

"You're the one who has the need to comment on every single thing. And I thought you liked James Bond kind of movies."

"I do like James Bond kind of movies," Tony imitated Gibbs' voice and only laughed at the soft head-slap. "Let's just watch the movie."

By the end of the movie, Gibbs still didn't like the movie, yet he hadn't left even once during the whole time the movie was on.

"You owe me, DiNozzo. You're starting to remind me of my ex-wives, forcing me to watch their romantic comedies and sob movies."

There was a mischievous glint in Tony's eyes as he looked at the older man. "You do realize I didn't force you to stay here, watching it with me? I merely suggested, if you're interested, that you could join me if you wanted."

The gentle head-slap was not unexpected, but the short ruffling of his hair was.

Happy times, before things turned ugly and those head-slaps became painful and all too real. Until even they stopped, and desperate for anything, he missed them.

Tony was startled by the sudden sound of a car driving past the house. Other than that, there was complete silence in the house.

Feeling how it was becoming hard to breathe, just being there, he jumped to his feet. Moving without making any sound, he would have made Gibbs proud. That is, if he hadn't forgotten those boxes all over the floor. As soon as he made it downstairs, he stumbled over not only one, but three boxes. Cursing softly, he didn't bother to check if it had woken up the sleeping man upstairs. With great urgency to get away, he limped outside. Hands deep in the pockets of his leather jacket, to keep his fingers warm, Tony started his slow walk toward the nearest hotel. At least he hadn't forgotten his wallet. But oh boy, Wendy was going to kill him for missing their date...

Morning came with the owner of the house still no wiser that his guest had disappeared sometime during the night.

Walking down the stairs at 5 AM, Gibbs was only half-awake. It was only once he was sitting down in the kitchen, finishing his second cup of coffee, that he realized something was wrong. First, the odd comment from last night came back to him. Then he remembered walking past the guest room. The door had been open, and no sign of the Detective in there.

Taking two steps at once, Gibbs hurried into the room. It was obvious that no one had slept in bed. He didn't bother checking the rest of the house, knowing full well DiNozzo wasn't there.

"My guest room not good enough for you, DiNozzo?" Although he was fuming, Gibbs kept his face neutral. It felt as if the mystery of this young man kept growing the more he got to know him. He'd planned going to work first, then hunt down the Detective to bring him to work, kicking and screaming if he had to. Gibbs found him standing right outside the Navy Yard looking like he owned the place, with relaxed posture and arms crossed over his chest.

Leaning against the wall, Tony flashed a smile. Shrugging slightly, he got in Gibbs' car. "Nah. I went to a hotel. Figured if I wanted to spend the night with a date, I better sleep elsewhere." The head-slap didn't surprise him.

"Feeling better now, Gibbs?" The smile on his face was sorrowful.

"My fingers have itched since the day we met." Gibbs glared and drove inside the building. Once they were at the parking slot, he took the Detective by his arm before he could leave the car. "You can stop the games with me, DiNozzo." Tony's whole body stiffened for a moment, which didn't go unnoticed by Gibbs. "I've seen your files and have done some extra digging of my own. You have a long-time girlfriend. So unless you're into cheating, you better give me a better answer. What's wrong with my guest room?"

"Nothing. It's just that... You wouldn't understand. It's personal, okay? Let's just agree I have some issues with sleeping. I get nightmares, and it's private. That enough for you, boss?" There was coldness in Tony's voice.

Oddly enough, Gibbs was pretty sure he could read a clear message behind that, which was as clear as if the man had screamed it out loud: 'Back off or I'll bite! ' Okay, so maybe not the bite, but it was as if watching some wild and wounded animal being cornered. He should tread carefully with this DiNozzo mystery, he realized. "Fine, for now." He'd spoken automatically and without thinking. He knew he had screwed up, but when he saw the half-smile and a faraway look, it confused and frustrated Gibbs even further. Was there really no way of telling what he should be doing?

"Are we going now?" Tony looked straight at Gibbs, who realized he was still holding the man's arm. The arm finally free, both men got out of the car. "All right captain, Ahab, let's get to work then."

Gibbs stared at the back of the man, who walked as if he already knew where everything was and where to go. "Ahab?" Gibbs wondered, but was met with silence as Tony had frozen to the spot. He smirked when he realized that the man didn't know his way here after all. "Come on, DiNozzo. This way. We don't have a whole day."

It was only in the elevator when he realized Tony hadn't followed him.

Tony had walked with a calmness he didn't feel. Silently praying for just one difference that would prove to him there was a difference between the real world and his dream. Other than the differences that he made happen. He was about to walk past that very familiar parking lot, when everything around him slowed down. He barely heard Gibbs behind him saying something as he stared at the empty spot on the ground. There was a sharp pain in his head; real or the memory of his dream, he didn't know. Rubbing his head furiously, Tony stared at the scene from his dream playing before his eyes.

"Come on, son. You have to wake up..."

"DiNozzo!"

At the sound of Gibbs' voice, it was as if there was an explosion of the two worlds colliding inside Tony's head, from both his memory of a dream and the real one standing in front of him, speaking at the same time. Looking up from that spot on the ground, he felt faint. He had no idea how many times Gibbs had been trying to get his attention. There was an odd expression on the older man's face. Was it concern?

"Hey, Anthony—"

"It's Tony."

"Tony. You okay there?" Gibbs reached out his hand, but Tony pushed it away, feeling as if the brief touch had burned him.

"I'm fine. Just... I think I'm going to be sick..." Barely finished saying that, Tony vomited. All over the shoes. Gibbs' shoes.

"Sorry." It was the seventh time Tony had apologized to Gibbs. The man hadn't said a word. With surprising calmness, he had returned to his car, changed his shoes, and dragged the still pale Detective with him into the elevator. Right before the doors opened again, Gibbs stopped the elevator. Tony didn't even blink his eyes.

"I really am sorry."

"Don't apologize."

"Yeah, yeah. It's a sign of weakness. I know. Rule 6 and so on. Can we move on now? I know it's still early, but someone else might want to use the elevator."

"Rule 6?" Gibbs' eyes narrowed and Tony realized his mistake.

"What?" Tony averted his eyes from the 'Gibbs glare', which he usually had no problems with.

"Did you go through my things while I was sleeping?"

Tony relaxed and thanked God for small mercies. He flashed a smile. "I would say I'm sorry, but I did tell you to take me to a hotel. I was born to be an investigator. I can't help my curiosity."

"Stop it. I know you're lying."

"What makes you say that?" Tony faced the ice-cold stare with calmness.

"My gut."

Of course. There was always that... Tony couldn't help but snort at the answer.

"Who are you? Why does it feel like you know more about me than all my ex-wives put together? My ex-wives, father, and many people closest to me."

"I don't—"

"I'm sick of you playing games with me, DiNozzo! Now start talking! Who are you?!"

"What does your gut tell you?"

Gibbs went silent and let go of Tony. At some point during his yelling, he'd taken hold of the man's T-shirt. "I don't know, and that's the problem. I know you're not a criminal, or I wouldn't have called in favors to make sure you would be here with me right now. I'm sure I have never met you. I don't recognize your name either. You've been pretty much reading my mind since the day one. You obviously know me, know about my ex-wives, and who knows what else. It could almost swear you've even been to my house before. Worst of all, my gut tells me I can trust you to watch my six. So since I have no idea what all this is, and you seem to be having all the answers, then please, answer my questions." There was both pleading and command in Gibbs' voice.

"I'm sorry. You wouldn't understand—"

"Then make me understand!"

"Gibbs... There's no way I could make you understand, while I myself don't. It's just... For years... When I woke up from a coma... It was just a crazy dream." Tony looked and sounded lost. "Things are happening that make no sense, and yet they are. My mind is really messed up right now. I fear I'm losing it. I just... I can't talk about it."

Gibbs stared at the man standing in front of him, trying to read the situation and then decide how to go from there. "All right. We won't talk about this."

"Thank you."

"For now."

"Gibbs..."

"Obviously, whatever is going on in your head, you need to talk about it to someone. It's your choice. Either you talk to me, or I will drag your ass to meet some nice and friendly shrinks to talk to."

"You have no authority to do that."

"Watch me."

Tony grimaced. Knowing full well what Gibbs' threats were. Not threats, but promises.

"Oh no. I really don't need this." Tony backed away the moment he realized which floor they entered.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows. "You don't even know what we're doing here, DiNozzo. No, wait. You already know what my next move is going to be."

"More like, I can read you well enough and I've gone through this same situation too many times. I really am fine. I was feeling sick because of some very intense flashback. I don't need to be looked over."

A lost fight was a lost fight. Gibbs didn't give room for any arguments and dragged Tony with him to the morgue, where an old man was clearly just starting his work. Smiling gently, the man looked with open curiosity at the two men entering the room.

"Well, good morning, Jethro. And who might this young fellow be?"

"Detective Anthony DiNozzo, but you can call me Tony."

"It's nice to meet you, Anthony. I heard so much about you from Jethro and Abigail, so I have been curious and hoping to meet you personally. Although, I must confess, it cannot even be compared to Jethro. Oh, but how thoughtless of me. My name is Dr. Donald Mallard, but my friends call me—"

"Ducky." Seeing and hearing the familiar, friendly old Ducky nearly brought tears to Tony's eyes. He was a man, though. He was not going to start crying with an audience, one of them being Gibbs.

The Doctor's eyes were twinkling with delight. "My, I see Jethro has already told you about me."

"Actually..." Gibbs began, but one sharp look from Tony made him change his mind. "DiNozzo was feeling sick earlier. I'm pretty sure he nearly passed out, looking weak and pale. Then he threw up, all over my favorite shoes." He held back his smile at the glare from Tony.

"Oh my. Let's take a look at you then, my boy. But first, let's find you a chair to sit in..."

"I don't want to see or hear about you before Ducky has given you a full examination, DiNozzo," Gibbs ordered. "I'm sure you know your way to the bullpen once he's done." And then Gibbs was gone, finally allowing a grin to spread on his face. A little payback did feel nice, and at the same time, Ducky would make sure DiNozzo really was okay, perhaps even getting out a few secrets from him. It was another thing how he would get Ducky to share any of that with him...

Back in the morgue, Tony was trying to talk himself out of the situation. "I don't need a full-body examination. I've already had more than my share of those during the past months because of my last injuries."

"I can see that. These must have been quite painful." Ducky gently touched one of the newest scars.

Tony shrugged. "I wouldn't know. I slept during the worst of it. Was in a coma for two weeks."

"It seems to me you are a rather accident-prone young man, looking at these old scars."

"So I've been told..."

"I would be interested in seeing your old medical records. It must be quite thick, I would imagine."

"That'd be fine, but I don't work here and once this case is closed, I'll be back in Baltimore."

"That is such a shame. I believe you would be a great addition in here. I have not seen Jethro quite this frustrated in years, and over something that has nothing to do with a case. It's quite entertaining to see him on the receiving end of that emotion."

Once he was finally allowed to put his clothes back on, Tony was more than happy to do so, but he found himself reluctant to leave the morgue. To leave Ducky. It didn't go unnoticed by the old man.

"You know, Anthony, while you are here, if you ever feel the need to talk, anything you may say would remain between you and me."

Tony's face softened, and he smiled. "Thank you. I'll keep that in mind." He was on his way out when he stopped and turned around. "Would you think I'm crazy if I'd tell you we've already met? In a dream."

Chapter Text

"Would you think I'm crazy if I'd tell you we've already met? In a dream."

Ducky looked surprised, before he walked away, and for a moment Tony thought the man was thinking the worst of him. It made him feel defeated. If Ducky wouldn't take this well, then no one else would either. Well, except Abby, perhaps. But then Abby was just... Abby.

"It is good indeed that I came to work early today," Ducky said, much closer than if he really had been on his way out. Tony looked up and saw the old man walking back with two cups. "I decided to have a nice cup of tea before work, so now I suggest that you and I sit down and drink it before it gets cold. I'm rather interested in hearing more about this dream of yours."

Tony blinked his eyes once, twice, and then he grinned, feeling such lightness at the relief. He had no heart to tell Ducky he'd rather not drink the tea, so he carefully accepted the hot cup. "Well, Ducky... It's rather crazy and a very long story. There is truly no way to tell it all at once."

Both men sat down, since Ducky had brought another chair in there just for that.

"Well, my lad. We can always arrange more time if needed. You do not have to worry about Jethro. When it comes to that, I can handle him."

Tony sighed softly. "Actually, the full story is even longer than that, really."

"And may I ask how long?"

"Way over ten years."

"Oh my... Well, you are right, it is long."

Silence took over the morgue as Tony contemplated what to say. Finally, he shook his head. "I feel like Cris Johnson—played by Nicolas Cage, in the movie Next—when he has lived his life to a certain point, and then wakes up in bed, back in the past, or rather, the present time. It had all been just a possible future, which he saw and could now change. Only I didn't wake up next to a pretty woman, but in a hospital bed, feeling like crap and still more or less looking like one too."

"I'm afraid I have never heard of the movie."

"Oh, you wouldn't have. It doesn't come out until 2007. In fact, you have no idea what you're missing. There are some pretty good movies coming out in the future, for a while anyway." Tony smiled weakly, but then the smile faltered, and he got more serious. "All jokes aside. The fact is... While I was in a coma, I was dreaming that I kept living my life from the moment of the shooting, which was how I ended up in the coma... Many things that I saw in the dream are now actually happening in real life. Even some of the things that I'm trying to change on purpose... I'm meeting the same people. In my dream world, by now Gibbs had already invited me to come to work here in NCIS. In his own special way, of course. I also met you, Abby, Gerald, Jimmy, Kate, McGee, Ziva, and so many others. I would like to try to find some good explanation for this all. I have tried. Frankly, the way my head is right now, I would even welcome a brain tumor as an explanation with open arms."

Tony scratched absent-mindedly at the area with his newest scar, which was still itching sometimes. He wouldn't face Ducky's eyes until he had finished the short version of his 'situation'. Thankfully, Ducky wasn't about to intervene. Thinking about his next words, Tony rolled a paper ball between his fingers, made of the napkin Ducky had given to him along with the teacup.

"I mean, it's crazy, right? It's just some stupid coma induced dream. My partner told me that, my doctors told me that, the shrinks told me that. Every person who has heard of my little 'crazy dream' has told me that. Now even Gibbs thinks I'm some crazy person, or that I'm someone sent to spy on him, since I know things about him that I shouldn't." Taking a sip of his tea, Tony was finally brave enough to look up. Ducky looked plain curious. "The thing is, I feel I'm older than I am, in my head. I suppose I should be glad. From 45 back to 27. It's a dream come true, right?" Laughing bitterly, Tony ripped another piece from the napkin and rolled it into a small paper ball. "I feel trapped. My body may be here, in this reality, but my mind is still stuck in that dream of the future."

Although he knew at the very least Ducky would never laugh at him or treat him like he was mentally unstable, Tony still felt nervous at the resulting silence. Not to mention almost regretting that he had opened his big, stupid mouth.

"I have to confess..." Ducky finally said and Tony flinched, expecting to be told the difference between reality and dreams, or crazy minds. "That is rather fascinating."

Tony stared at him. "I guess I shouldn't be surprised by your reaction, or rather lack of reaction, Ducky..."

Ducky was chuckling and shook his head. "Why? Were you expecting me to sign you up in a mental institution? No. I am old enough to know that sometimes in life, things just happen. Things that do not make any sense, no matter how much we try to understand them."

"I sure have tried to find some way to explain this craziness..."

"Ah, but perhaps that is your biggest problem? Trying to reason with something you cannot. Perhaps you should simply start living your life again? If your dream indeed gives you a choice of taking a different path, you should take it as a blessing rather than a curse. My advice to you is to live your life."

Tony smiled, barely, but it was more real than any other smile for a very long time now. Both in the dream and in 'this life'. "Only you can take such a story as this, not question it, not call me crazy, and even have some advice to give. You are a good friend. A good storyteller and a good listener."

Ducky blinked. "I take it that you and I were close in this dream of yours?"

Tony chose his words carefully. "You were among the last people I still trusted to have my six toward the end."

"Well, Anthony... In that case, to the friendships that go beyond time and dreams." There was a twinkle in Ducky's eyes as he raised his teacup. Tony grinned and held up his.

"Maybe this really is a dream come true." Seeing the question on Ducky's face, Tony sighed. "The thing is... In that dream... Things had gone ugly between me and my so-called friends. You and Ji—someone were the last two still standing behind me. Gibbs was treating me like I was nothing but his worthless underling. Loyal St. Bernard, who barks, bites, or sniffs whenever he tells me to. I used to look up to him. He was like a father to me, or what I thought was the ideal example of one. I thought we were close, once upon a time. I gave him my best years. My everything. He took that and more, and wiped his ass with it. That's why, Ducky, this time, no matter what, there are no second chances. Once this job is over and done with, I'll be out of here."

Hearing such harsh words spoken about his friend, but seeing the truth in the clear green eyes, and knowing some of the less favorable moments from his old friend's past, Ducky smiled sadly and stood up. Walking to Tony, he laid his hand on Tony's shoulder. "Listen to me, Anthony. I'm sure you have every reason for this anger. I may not know the details of your dream, but do not let your anger blind you. That's the only thing I am asking. As much as I hate the possibility of my new friend leaving us so soon, I will accept that. So long as your decisions have not been made while the anger clouds your judgment. Too many bad decisions have been made in that state of mind."

Tony closed his eyes. Ducky's words hit him hard and deep. It was true, though. Ever since he woke up from that coma, he'd been consumed by anger and bitterness. To the point where he had even been a little too hard-handed toward few criminals. "You're right... I can try to not do anything rash. That's all I can promise, while I'm still this messed up in my head as I am."

"And that is all I am asking, Anthony. Now, tell me, do I still look handsome after almost twenty years?"

Tony laughed. "You looked good, Ducky. You looked good."

"You know, Jethro, it's very rude to eavesdrop on a private conversation. A very private conversation, if I may add." Ducky looked scoldingly at the Agent entering the morgue, looking sheepish, but not sheepish enough to feel sorry.

"Sorry, Duck. I had no other choice."

"You could have talked to Anthony. Jethro, I do not appreciate your way of handling this. If I had noticed you sooner, I would have made sure you didn't hear a thing, but I did not have the heart to stop the lad from finishing his tale."

Gibbs sighed deeply. "I know. But I'm pretty sure he wouldn't have told me anything."

"And now that you know?"

"It was just some very insane dream."

"Jethro..."

"That's what I'd like to think, but, Ducky... The thing is, I have a first-hand proof how very not crazy his dream might be." Gibbs thought back to how, like at home, the supposed stranger had been at his place, as if he'd done it many times before. He frowned at his next thought. "Unless he has indeed spied on me, or can read my mind. I don't believe in some future-telling dreams. I believe in gut feelings. But at least now I have a little better chance of figuring out how to work with his case."

"He is not a case, Jethro."

"You know what I mean." Looking weary, Gibbs ran a hand over his face. "He hates me, doesn't he?"

"He does not hate you."

"You heard him. The way he spoke about me, or this dream version of me."

"You heard what you think you heard. While you heard bitterness and anger, I saw sadness. If he hated you, then why the sadness? Mark my words, Jethro, the lad does not hate you."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that, Ducky. I was going to see if my gut feeling is right about him, and then maybe ask him to work here. You know how hard it's been to find anyone I can work with. Steve was the closest I got. Now, he pretty much told you there's no way that's going to happen."

"Are you giving up then?"

"No way."

Ducky smiled and watched as Gibbs left.

He was avoiding looking at those desks in the bullpen. He could hear their voices talking in his head.

"You put superglue on my keyboard?!"

Tony smirked. Well, not all memories were bad. Good times...

"Something funny, DiNozzo?"

Trying to hide his sudden nervousness, Tony covered it with his megawatt smile. "Nothing, boss—Gibbs. Nothing funny at all. I was just thinking about one and a hundred ways to use a superglue."

"I'd rather you think about one and a hundred ways to solve our case."

"Well, I would love to, but I don't even know what the so-called case is."

"You didn't see the file I left on the desk for you?"

"Ah. No. Didn't see the file on the desk. Which you left for me..." Tony moved to take the file, which was, of course, on his desk. His hands were trembling as he took the file, trying not to focus on the memories haunting him like some monstrous dark shadow, trying to swallow him up at every chance it was given.

Their voices echoed relentlessly with the bitter memories.

"You'll go with Ziva and be her backup. If someone later asks where you two were, tell them I sent you on a coffee run."

"Of course..." Tony mumbled something bitterly, meant only for his ears.

"You said something, DiNozzo?" There was a dangerous undertone in the older man's voice.

Tony shrugged and flashed a smile. "I said, on it, boss." Always ready for the dirty work because Ziva runs her own private show again, was his bitter thought, knowing full well how ugly this whole thing was going to end up, as he paid the price while they walked away. And lately, his gut feelings had worked much better than Gibbs' own...

Always so much anger and even darkness surrounding him. It had become overwhelming. It was a wonder he hadn't left sooner, that he let it get to that point of losing himself...

"What is wrong with you, DiNozzo? If you have a problem following the orders, you're free to go!" Meaning, 'you're off my team.'

There were tight lines around Tony's mouth as he shook his head. "No problem, boss." He turned around and walked away from the body. He had been all night with a pretty blonde, having the time of his life. That would be the story the next morning at work. He hadn't just watched some old Marine friend of Gibbs murdering someone in cold blood. Just like ordered, he knew nothing. The longer he kept repeating it in his head like some mantra, he almost believed it too.

It was that familiar head-slap that brought him back to reality. "DiNozzo!" Opening his mouth again, Gibbs took a step back when Tony finally moved and looked straight at him.

Filled with sudden hatred and anger, Tony spat the words out of his mouth like they were poison. "Well, shall we get to work then?"

Without saying anything, Gibbs simply walked into the elevator, Tony following without having to be told. Silently, Gibbs handed over a phone, which Tony took with raised eyebrows. The rule 'never be unreachable ' came to his mind. They didn't speak anything on the way to the car. Even while driving to interview a possible suspect, they still didn't speak to one another.

After some time had passed, Tony kept glancing over his shoulder until he finally broke the heavy silence. "Hey, boss. I think that car has been following us since we left the Navy Yard."

"You think?" Obviously, Gibbs had noticed the car as well. Oddly enough, the driver didn't seem to have any trouble keeping up with Gibbs.

With the speeding and most focus on the car following them, neither man noticed another car. Or they did, but not fast enough. It was the sound of a metal against metal and the taste of blood in his mouth, and Tony knew what was going to happen before it did, and he muttered, "Well, at least this time it's different. My second first day working at the NCIS..."

He saw someone approaching the car. There was a steady hand holding a gun, pointing it toward them, and then there was darkness.

Chapter Text

It was the sound of dripping water that woke him up, but the headache made him wish the unconsciousness would return. Granted, he didn't think he had a concussion, or it was very mild—and if anyone should know, then he was the man—but it felt bad, nevertheless.

"You okay, DiNozzo?"

Tony looked up from where he'd been tied up. Someone had kindly left them a few flashlights in there, so they could actually see around them well enough. A cave. He was sitting in a cold, wet, and drafty cave. For a moment he felt terror when he thought about his weak lungs, until he remembered that it had only been in his dream, his battle with the plague. There indeed was something good in this situation. "Yeah. I'm fine. I feel warm and fuzzy. No concussion either."

Gibbs, who was tied up against Tony, tried turning his head to look at him. "You're a doctor now, DiNozzo?"

"No, but I've had my share of concussions to know the difference between a simple bump on the head and a concussion."

"You hit your head often?"

"Who do you think is behind this? Have you pissed off someone lately?" Tony asked. Not able to see Gibbs, he could feel him glaring anyway, and he chuckled.

How many times had they ended up in tight situations during the years? Yet they had always come out as winners. As much as they'd had other people working to help them, it had been team work between the two of them. They had been able to pretty much tell what the other was thinking and, before Gibbs had completely lost his sight of the difference between right and wrong, they had been the best agents NCIS had; on their own and even better when working together. When they really worked together. He missed those times, painfully so. Even if it was just a dream... He held no illusions, though, that things would be any different in real life. Sure, it was possible, but he didn't feel like taking that chance.

"You telling me you've never pissed off anyone, DiNozzo?"

"You're talking to the master."

"I can see you are both finally awake." It was someone else speaking this time, and they looked toward the sound of footsteps coming closer to them. The one speaking was a stunningly beautiful older woman, holding a flashlight of her own. "I hope you can forgive me for doing this to you." She was not a redhead, but even Gibbs didn't mind looking at her. He kept the look on his face neutral, though. Although it was cold down there, she was wearing a small summer dress and high heels, which no one in their right mind would be wearing in that cave. She, however, seemed to have no trouble balancing herself over the slippery rocks until she was standing where both of the men could see her well enough.

"Depends what it is you're planning on doing to us," Tony answered cheerfully.

For a moment, the woman looked confused, but then she walked over and slapped him hard on the cheek. "You filthy pig! All you men are the same! You're no better than my husband!"

"Norma Miller," Gibbs said, looking at the woman with an almost pitying look on his face.

"Ah, I thought you looked familiar. You're the wife of our victim." Tony was nodding as if everything was now suddenly making perfect sense. The widow didn't look too pleased.

"He was no victim! On a bad day, he would beat me. On a good day, he would insult me."

"So, what? He beat you up, so you killed him?"

"Yes! I killed him! He got what he deserved!"

"I agree. He got what he deserved." Gibbs sounded calm, hiding his worry. The two of them had been tied up well enough, so he couldn't get his hands to the hidden knife. If it were just him, he'd try to force the ropes off of him one way or another, but he couldn't take the chance of hurting the young man tied up to him.

"But we had nothing to do with what he did to you," Tony pointed out the obvious, which only served to piss off the woman even more.

"Nothing, you say! You're going to put me in jail for what he did to me! Now, you two are going to wait here until the water fills this nice little cave. Then no one will come after me ever again. Come, Richard. We are leaving."

The men noticed for the first time that there was someone with the woman. A tall man stood behind her, looking very much like some odd mix of a butler and some secret Agent, or maybe one of those bad guys in the older James Bond movies. It was hard to tell. There were no emotions on the man's face.

Norma stopped and looked thoughtful for a moment. "Oh, and even if, somehow, you do manage to walk, you can't climb, which is the only way out."

"Before you leave, maybe you could untie us? You know, so we could swim our way out."

Norma stared at Tony as if he was crazy—which Gibbs was also starting to wonder about—before she snapped her fingers, and like a well-trained dog, Richard moved forward and hit Tony in the face.

"Now, let's go home. We have some business to deal with." Turning around, she walked away, with Richard following her quietly.

Gibbs spoke only when their captors had been gone for a while "You okay there, DiNozzo?"

Spitting out some blood, Tony grimaced. His headache didn't thank him for opening his big mouth. "Well, I'm pretty sure I just lost a tooth, so I'm going to need to see my dentist, but other than that, I'm fine."

"Say that again. Did you forget you're tied up against me? When he hit you, I could feel it against my own head. If you gave me a concussion, it's on your head."

"What can I say, boss? I've got a hard head." Spitting some more blood out of his mouth, Tony thought of all the ways he could wipe the remaining blood off his chin without using his hands or feet.

Gibbs didn't sound happy when he said, "What was that anyway, DiNozzo? You were pretty much asking to be punched in the face."

"Ah... You're right. I should have tried to get him to aim someplace else instead of my face. It is my selling point, right?"

"DiNozzo..."

"Not wanting to ruin this moment, but I think we have a problem."

"You think?"

"I mean, our time is running out. The water is coming."

Turning his head as much as he could toward what Tony was seeing, Gibbs cursed. It was slow and steady, but still too fast, as the water kept flowing inside the cave.

"I think we're going to need our escape plan, and we're going to need it now."

"Can you stand up?"

"Not without you. On the count of three? One... Two... Three!" They failed miserably. "Oookay. That didn't go so well... I mean, of course that's obvious, but—"

"DiNozzo..."

"Okay. Another try. One... Two... Three!" Nearly falling down, but this time they succeeded. With their feet also tied up, they were still in no better position or closer to getting out of their soon-to-be water grave.

"Well, unless we learn quickly how to swim out like this, or grow gills, we're still pretty much doomed. Unless you find some nice sharp rock to cut our ropes with or something. In movies, they do that, but the rocks I can see here don't look sharp enough..."

Pulling the still talking man with him, Gibbs started doing just that. Or trying anyway. It wasn't like they had any other options.

With his 'memories' of drowning, both on dry land and when he'd rescued Gibbs with that girl, Tony had to focus on keeping his breathing steady, so that he wouldn't panic. "You know, Gibbs... By the time we're done cutting through our ropes, we'll be dead. Fish food. Actually, this reminds me of—"

"You helping me or not, DiNozzo?"

"Helping. On it."

After a while, the ropes started to feel hot, and they had managed to cut more of their own skin instead of the ropes. The water level was at their knees much too soon. The rope was stubborn and slow to cut, and once the water had started coming in, there was suddenly no end to it. The men could feel they were running out of time, and they were both hoping they'd be free before those last couple of seconds, like it would be happening in the movies.

By the time the water was starting to rise above waist, their hands were finally free. In a sudden rush, not knowing how far they would have to go until they could get out, the men got rid of the ropes. Now being able to use a knife, the ropes around their feet were gone easily.

"Let's get moving!" Gibbs grabbed Tony's arm and started pulling him away.

Tony, who was still trying to put his own knife back in his pocket with frozen fingers, heard it fall in the dark water. "You just dropped my knife!"

"I'll buy you a new one! Now let's start moving!"

'Let's start moving' was easier said than done. Running or even walking in the water wasn't so easy once you were trying it against the time, and not even knowing how much. Then there was also the fact that the water was freezing.

Tony tried his best to push away the flashes of images running through his head. Saving Gibbs and Maddie from that car under water. How much it had hurt. His lungs shouldn't have lasted such an ordeal. He should've, rather than could've, drowned there himself. That flashback took him to another flashback. Blue lights, which would haunt his memories for the rest of his life, and unable to breathe, no matter how much air there was around him. It had been nothing but a dream, he kept telling himself. His lungs were just fine. He was fine. Blue lights and water, blue lights and water...

"There! I can see the opening!" Tony pointed in front of them. He tried not to sound too relieved.

The water was getting deeper, but it was not deep enough for them to swim their way out. Feeling a strange mixture of too cold and numb, the men were not willing to wait for the water to rise, and rather took the risk of falling down as they started climbing up. The rocks were slippery, many of them sharp—because they couldn't be sharp when needed—and the water kept pouring at them, as if trying its very best to push them down as they finally made their way into freedom.

Getting out was only the beginning of their problems. Without their car, no money, no ID, no phone, and no car willing to stop to help them, Tony and Gibbs walked back toward the city step by agonizing step. Their movements were too slow because of the cold, and they hoped they wouldn't walk right into the mad woman and her 'trained dog'. It was a long walk, or at least it felt like it.

"And I thought our... victim was the crazy one," Tony said through frozen lips.

"With a husband like hers... it's no wonder if she ends up... losing it."

"I think... it was more than that... Did you... look at her? I mean... really look at her?"

"DiNozzo..."

"Not talking about the looks... which... she obviously had... Like... wow... You would call it... gut feeling... She was strange."

Gibbs smiled as much as his frozen face let him. "Tell me more about your... gut feeling."

"I think... I'll talk later... Can't feel my mouth, boss."

"Good idea."

Gibbs and Tony were barely back in the Navy Yard when Abby ran past the people in the bullpen, and threw her arms around Gibbs in a crushing hug. "Gibbs, Gibbs, Gibbs! You're back! You're okay! I was so worried!" She paused. "You're so cold..."

Smiling stiffly, Gibbs returned the hug weakly. "I'm fine, Abby. We had a little situation, but it's all good now."

Abby noticed the young Detective standing behind Gibbs. "You! What did you do?! First day working with Gibbs, and he almost dies!"

Tony just stared with a blank expression on his face, rubbing his arms absently.

"Abby!" Gibbs interrupted tiredly. "It had nothing to do with him. It was related to our case."

Abby looked a little embarrassed. "Oh. Sorry."

Tony mumbled something and wiped a hand over his mouth.

"Sorry, I didn't hear."

"Shower."

"Oh! You both must be so cold. Sorry, Gibbs. The shower is—" Abby blinked when she looked at Tony, who was already gone. "Where did he go? Did I upset him?"

"Shower, Abbs. Do me a favor. Find him some clothes to wear," Gibbs said before he went after Tony.

"Clothes to wear..." The look on Abby's face brightened. "I can do that!"

When both men were taking their sweet time under the hot shower, Gibbs decided to try being a little less of a bastard for a change. "Hey, DiNozzo!" he yelled over the sound of the running water, not sure if Tony had even heard him.

"What?"

"Good work."

Chapter Text

"I'm sorry."

Looking up from his still wet clothes, Tony was confused. "Sorry?"

Abby stared at the man wearing nothing but a towel barely covering the Junior. She grinned as she appreciated what she saw. "Very nice... Anyway. I'm sorry for blaming you earlier. I was just so worried and upset because I nearly lost Gibbs again. I know with this job it happens all the time, but still..."

"I hope you realize this is a men's locker room." Tony remained calm and not bothered by the goth openly leering over his figure.

"You're using my nickname before telling me yours?" Abby was pouting and Tony flinched.

"Sorry. I might slip once in a while, but I'll try my best. Abigail. Or do you prefer Sciuto?" Man, that sounded so wrong and... foreign.

"No, no, no.. Don't you dare. I want you to call me Abby like you just did. I mean, we'll be friends soon anyway, right? We have to at least get along when work in here, with Gibbs."

"Abby! You can drop the act. We don't have to get along or be friends just because I'm working here. Once the job I'm here for is done, we won't see each other ever again."

Abby looked shocked. "I'm sorry... I didn't mean... Sometimes I just let things out of my mouth before I think. I don't always even mean what I say." Shrugging her shoulders, she dropped the plastic bag she'd been carrying on the floor. "Here. For you. Gibbs told me to get some clothes for you. I hope they fit. I used his credit card." After saying that, she left, leaving a bemused Tony staring after her.

Sitting down, Tony ran a hand through his wet hair, wondering if he indeed was letting his anger cloud his judgment. It wasn't his way of doing things. It was— "Oh no..." It was pretty much the way Gibbs had been, letting his feelings or current mood control his actions. Was he becoming Gibbs, from his dream? Ducky was right... As upset as he was, even if these people turned out the same in the future as in his dream, he shouldn't be laying his anger on them. Not yet.

Looking at the bag, he couldn't help but smile slightly. Gibbs told her to get him some clothes to wear, and she went all the way to buy them? Great. Now he'd have to apologize...

"Where is she?!"

"Took you long enough, DiNozzo," Gibbs answered without looking up from his desk, completely focused on the work, although his ears picked up someone snickering, and some odd sound of jingling.

"Abby! Where is she?! She's not in her lab!"

"Watch your mouth, DiNozzo!" Gibbs snapped and finally looked up, angry at the tone Tony was using when talking about Abby. He was going to add something more, but then he saw the man standing in front of him. "Are those the clothes she found for you?" Gibbs was amused. Of course. He should have known better when asking Abby to do this...

"Bought, not found. I'm pretty sure she knew exactly what to buy."

Tony wasn't exactly embarrassed by what he was wearing—going undercover meant adapting to all sorts of looks—but these were not only doomed to kill any hopes of future little DiNozzos, but also not fit to wear when running after a suspect, or help him to be taken seriously. He was wearing a pair of black skin-tight leather pants, leather boots with some skull shaped bells hanging from them, so that with every step he took, everyone could hear him coming and going. Then there was the almost tame looking black leather jacket, until he turned around and people saw that it came with a huge picture of a vampire skull on the back, along with the text: 'Bite me!' The only thing not black was a green shirt under the jacket.

"And yet, you're still wearing it." Gibbs was looking at him with a quirked eyebrow, still looking far too amused.

"You're not laughing once you see the price tags these things still have on."

"It's her money. She can do what she wants with it."

"Oh, you're really going to be jumping with glee. She used your credit card."

"Abby!" Gibbs stormed into the lab the moment he knew she had returned from her long break.

"Gibbs! Did you see Tony? I took pictures from the security cameras, zoomed, and printed out. They're not good, so we have to take a proper picture. Maybe a full photo shoot? I mean, he can totally carry that look, don't you think?"

"Abbs!"

"Yes, sir! Boss! Yes, Gibbsman!"

"My credit card? Skin-tight pants?"

"Leather pants, Gibbs. That's what they're called. And they didn't cost that much."

Without saying a word, Gibbs held up the receipt with raised eyebrows, and Abby smiled sheepishly.

"Although, when you put it that way... I might have gotten a little carried away."

"You do realize that he has to change the clothes into something fit for our kind of work? I already got someone to find him something else."

"Oh no... I didn't even get a good picture..."

Without saying anything, Gibbs handed her a photo, and a wide grin spread across Abby's face. "Oh, Gibbs. You're so evil. You're the best!"

"Wasn't me. Apparently, Pacci found it hilarious and took a sneak photo. By now, there must be hundreds of copies around the office. I merely snatched one when no one was looking."

"Ah. Pacci. That wonderful, wonderful man. I must thank him." After putting the picture away in her private collection, she turned back to face Gibbs. "Don't worry about the things I bought, Gibbs. Other than maybe the pants, we should be able to return them all."

"You do that, after work is done."

Abby hummed. "If he's really not going to work in here, then I'll be putting that photo on the wall."

"Why do you think he's not going to work here?"

"He said so."

Gibbs was annoyed, which is why he said to her, "If I say he will, who do you think will win that argument, Abbs?"

Blinking, an evil grin spread over Abby's face. "You, Bossman! So what's the plan?"

Gibbs didn't say anything. Instead, he reached out his hand, and with a sheepish look on her face, Abby handed over the credit card.

"No Caf-Pow for you today."

"Aw, but Gibbs..!"

Returning to the bullpen, Gibbs saw the young Detective focused on the work. With his finally dry hair mussed up, it gave the illusion as if he'd been working there for hours already.

"It seems like she's done us a little disappearing act here, Gibbs." Tony looked up from his computer. He had changed his clothes and shoes again, and what he wore now made him look more like a college kid. From one look to another. Not many could pull that off the way he did, which was a good trait for someone who might have to work undercover.

Gibbs shook his head with a smile when the man wasn't looking. "She might have found out that we made it out alive," he pointed out.

"It could be, but there's still something about this, about her, which gives me this feeling like something's not right. I also found out she has a son from her previous marriage. Age 25. Not married, no girlfriend, no job and is living with his friend. He doesn't live too far from here."

"Well, gear up. We've got work to do."

They both had new weapons and phones; the third one for Tony in a short time, which was a little strange, since wasn't it usually Gibbs who seemed to always be needing a new phone?

"On your six," Tony said without thinking as he followed after Gibbs.

Opening the door, Thomas Harris welcomed the Agent and Detective inside the apartment with a smile. Being the very picture of politeness, the young man offered them coffee and some cake, which they both turned down, saying they wouldn't be staying for long. He didn't look like his mother. He was also the very picture of the word ordinary.

"We are here to ask you about your mother, Norma Miller. No one seems to be able to tell us where she is."

The smile on the young man's face disappeared as he frowned. "What has she done now? Another speeding ticket? Or is this still about my stepfather? That drunk got what he deserved."

"Yes, we are aware of that. However, your mother attempted to murder two federal agents." Gibbs left out the fact that she had confessed to murdering her husband, and that it was actually only one Agent, plus Tony.

Thomas looked shocked. "My mother did that? I mean... I guess I shouldn't be surprised. Living with that bastard changed her... I'm afraid I haven't seen her since yesterday. She did, however, call me several hours ago. She had been drinking, that much was obvious, and was ranting something about unfair life. How the police wouldn't leave her alone, and refused to give the body of her husband to arrange the funeral. She did love the man despite everything. But I really have no idea where she could be."

The men stood up and Gibbs gave the man a number to call to. "If she contacts you in any way, let us know. And don't leave anywhere for a while. We might come back later or call you to ask some more questions."

"Of course."

They left with another polite, 'no, thank you,' at the offered cake to go with them.

"He's hiding something," Tony said once they were walking back to their car.

"That's usually the case."

"He knows where she is. We should keep an eye on him and—Who are you calling?"

"Someone to keep an eye on him."

Finished with the call, Gibbs started the engine. Looking out of the car window, he thought for a moment he saw someone staring at them. His gut was telling him that they better be watching their backs.

As the car drove away, a tall man watched after them from the shadows. There were no emotions on his face, covered in blood still dripping down his nose and chin.

"Hey, Tony."

Tony snapped out of his thoughts and looked up, surprised by the use of his first name. "What?"

"Watch your back."

Tony looked away. "You too, Gibbs."

He was back in the cave. He wasn't tied up this time, yet he couldn't move. The flashlights had turned into candles, giving an eerie look to the place. Before he even heard it, he knew the water was coming, and then he saw it, but instead of water, it was blood.

The cave was filled in a matter of seconds, and he couldn't breathe. Looking down, he saw that the candles were still lit and all he saw around him was the color red. Then something hit the back of his head and he slipped into blissful darkness...

"Sleep on your own time!"

Rubbing the back of his head where Gibbs had slapped him, Tony sighed. It was late into the night, and they hadn't had any luck locating Norma, or really getting anywhere further with the case. At some point, she had stepped into a cab, but now they couldn't even locate the driver or the car. Neither did they get any better results trying to find out anything about this 'Richard' of hers.

"Sorry. Wasn't sleeping. Just rested my eyes for a moment."

"Rest later. We have a case here. Something about this whole thing feels out of place and I don't like it."

"I told you so. But if we're going to work through the night, I'm going to need some strong coffee, while there are still some places near us open. I'll bring you the usual?"

"You need to ask, DiNozzo?"

Before Tony left, Gibbs took the man's gun and held it out. "You forgot this."

"Yeah. Sorry. My brains just aren't working too well anymore. Like I said, I need some coffee. Or sleep..." Taking the gun, Tony left.

Not liking to admit he was actually worrying over DiNozzo, Gibbs ignored his gut churning.

Crossing the street to the still open coffee shop, Tony enjoyed the rare moment of silence in the area without too many cars in sight. Entering the shop, he smiled when he saw the familiar face behind the counter.

"Hey there, Laura! Quiet night?"

The waitress blinked before she realized he had seen her name tag. "Yes, it is indeed. I went to take out some trash earlier, and it was spooky. I think I'll take a kitchen knife with me next time."

Tony laughed. "I'll have Gibbs' usual, please. Twice. Actually, make it four of those and add in a couple of doughnuts. If he's going to make me work all night, I might as well get something to eat."

Smiling, the young woman added in a couple of extra doughnuts, and slipped her phone number in his pocket.

With a wink and a smile, Tony was soon out. Making sure to not spill the precious coffee, he ran over the empty street and didn't notice the car coming out of nowhere, speeding, which made it obvious what the intention was. Barely jumping out of the way in time, Tony managed to even avoid spilling the coffee. "What the..?"

"Are you all right?" The few people on the street rushed toward him, having seen the whole thing.

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm fine, thanks."

"That driver was out of his mind! It was almost as if he was driving right at you on purpose."

Probably did... Tony realized. Staring after the way the car had disappeared, he wondered where he had seen it before. Thanking the people for their concern, he returned to the Navy Yard.

"What took you so long?" Gibbs growled, but calmed down after he got his coffee.

"There was a long line," Tony lied seamlessly. "Seems like half of the city wanted their coffee in the middle of the night."

Sitting down behind his desk, Tony wondered for a moment if the incident was worth mentioning to Gibbs, but decided against it.

Chapter Text

Sitting at the morgue, Tony let Ducky take care of his forehead. It didn't really need more than a band-aid.

"You were here yesterday morning, and now this. As much as I enjoy your company, do not make a habit out of this, Anthony."

Tony grinned slightly. "I'll take the elevator next time."

"May I ask how on earth did you fall down the stairs?"

Tony shrugged, unsure how to explain that a lack of sleep and a pretty woman were the reason.

"You seem awfully tense. Did Jethro allow you to get any sleep, or were the two of you working all night?"

"Working, but that's not the reason. Not the first time I end up working all night."

"And what is the reason?"

"Just something stupid that keeps bothering me. Nothing worth mentioning. I'll forget it soon enough. Thanks, Ducky." Walking out of the morgue, before Ducky got a chance to talk him into getting some sleep, Tony slipped inside the elevator.

Taking out his phone and dialing the number, Ducky had to only wait a moment before he said with a stern voice, "Jethro. If you and our young friend will not get any rest, now, I will personally make sure your case is given to another team. Do not interrupt me. Jethro. Listen. Not sleeping does not help. If anything, even a little nap now and then would do you wonders."

When the man started almost yelling at him, Ducky listened calmly, and with patience only he could have.

"Jethro. This is what you are going to do. You will take a break for at least half of the day. Take Anthony with you, and then make sure both of you sleep during that whole time. If I find out you two have not been sleeping, and believe I will know it, I will get you removed from the case. I'll speak to the Director if I must. I know he will be on my side. Now, go home. And get some real food in you before coming back. Both of you. Coffee will not keep you going, no matter what you believe." Not waiting for the answer, Ducky ended the call.

In the bullpen, Gibbs fumed as he was forced to endure his friend's lecture, trying and failing to speak a word or two of his own. "Duck—!" Staring at the phone, Gibbs realized Ducky had hung up on him. Rubbing his tired face, he looked up when Tony returned, looking just as tired as he felt. Gibbs frowned. "What happened to your forehead?"

"I fell down the stairs."

When he was too tired to even react to that, Gibbs realized that maybe he did need some sleep after all...

Tony watched as Gibbs stood up, gathered his things, and walked to the elevator. Taking his own things, he rushed after him. "Gear up?"

"No. We're going to get some sleep. Ducky's orders."

Tony rolled his eyes. Trust Ducky to be able to do that to Gibbs. Actually, to both of them, he realized.

He was sitting in a chair, drinking his tea. When he spoke, it was with a British accent, sounding like his mother. "Thank you for inviting me over."

Norma Miller's smile looked frozen, and her face waxen. Richard stood behind her, like a statue from a horror movie, wearing the clothes of The Fool.

"Pie?" Thomas Harris offered Tony.

"Yes please." The filling of the pie was blood-red.

Wearing the hat of a Mad Hatter, Ducky shook his head. "Don't eat that, Anthony. It's not good."

Looking at his pocket watch, Gibbs said, "We don't have time for this."

It was then that Tony realized he'd been drinking blood and the bloody pie was rotten, with live worms sticking out of it. His stomach churned.

"Eat your pie," Thomas ordered.

Gibbs turned to look at Tony, who was now staring down at his bloody clothes. He was wearing the dress of Alice, and he knew he had long blond hair.

"Wake up, DiNozzo!"

Tony stared at the ceiling. His dreams only kept getting crazier. Looking at the time, he saw he'd barely slept for a couple of hours. Not nearly enough, but he felt a sudden need for a shower, and to wash his mouth.

In the shower, Tony let his thoughts wander aimlessly as the hot water burned his skin. He knew there had been something he'd missed about this case, hence the freaky dreams. His already messed up subconsciousness had to be trying to tell him something. His head had been so messed up for so long that he had lost his focus. It had taken Ducky, to finally make that thick fog in his brains to fade away to start seeing more clearly. Had he seen something that he hadn't paid any attention to?

Opening his eyes, it finally hit him. At least one of the things was clear now. That car from yesterday; he remembered where he had seen it before...

Turning off the water and getting dressed, Tony sneaked to the open door of Gibbs' bedroom. The man was in a deep sleep, snoring, and he had no heart to wake him up. Besides, at least one of them should get enough sleep. Ducky was going to chew him over for this, but he couldn't take any chances.

Writing a short note, he taped it against the guest room's door and left the house, borrowing the car. It was just a little over 10 AM by then.

Parking the car at the perfect spot, Tony could see the car of the two agents 'watching' the apartment and people moving in and out of the building. Shaking his head, he could only wonder what kind of probies those two were, since they didn't even look toward the building. Turning his head toward the car from yesterday, which was now in the parking slot, he wondered if the owner was who he thought it was. Maybe he was overthinking. 'There is no such thing as coincidence.' Rule 39. Right. Plenty of other rules came to his mind, but he chose to ignore them for the time being, since the suspect had just walked out of the building. He watched as Thomas Harris walked to his car, to that car, and the agents still didn't seem to react. Either they were good at playing ignorant, or they really were just that. Waiting until the man had been gone long enough, Tony left the car and sneaked toward the apartment.

He wasn't entirely sure what his plan was going to be, but then he found the door open, like an invitation. Any other time he would have hesitated, but now he entered the deadly quiet apartment, where he could feel it, smell it, and it didn't take long before he found two bodies in the tiny bathroom; a young man whose identity was a mystery, and a woman. Norma Miller. Her beauty was only a faint memory now. Although the two had been brutally murdered, and the bathroom looked as if it was straight from the setting of some B-rated horror movie, the rest of the apartment was clean. Too clean. No matter how much he looked around, there was no other evidence. Of anything. It was hard to tell if someone actually even lived in there, since the place looked the very picture of an apartment ready to be sold.

When he was about to leave the apartment, he realized what he had seen the last time he'd been there with Gibbs. Sitting down in the same chair and same place, he let his mind take him back to that very moment.

They sat down and Thomas was about to go into the kitchen. "Coffee? I have some cake from yesterday."

Gibbs shook his head and Tony said, "No, thank you."

"We are here to ask you about your mother, Norma Miller. No one seems to be able to tell us where she is," Gibbs was saying.

Tony let his eyes wander. Living room, he assumed. From where he was sitting, he could see the door to the kitchen and bathroom, if the picture of a naked showering woman taped against the door was anything to go by. There was one more door, also closed. Bedroom, he assumed again. For a short moment, his eyes were lingering at the red, slowly widening, line under the door.

"My mother did that?" Thomas' shocked voice brought his focus back to the other two.

How hadn't his brains registered such an obvious thing as blood? He'd been working on how many crime scenes by now? No way to count them all, without even adding the years from the dream.

Thomas. He had noticed. He must have seen him looking at the door, the blood. It could have been he who tried to hit him with the car.

Realizing that he had lost his sense of time, Tony stood up and left the apartment, closing the door after him. As far as he could tell, he hadn't left any evidence of having been there.

Walking to 'his' car, he couldn't help but wonder about the two agents sitting in the car. Deciding to say a few chosen words, Tony changed his direction. The closer he got, the more the hairs on his body stood up. Even before he got close enough to see it, before he opened the door, he knew. Taking out his phone, he dialed one of the numbers that he knew from memory.

"Ducky. Wait! You can yell at me later. This is more important. You remember our case..? You know those agents who were sent to watch over the suspect? They're dead... I'm no expert like you, but I'm pretty sure they've been dead for a while... No visible marks, unless they're somewhere under the clothes. Maybe poisoned. They have several empty cups and a half-eaten pie in the car." He made a face at Ducky's next question. "No, I didn't take any backup. I just remembered something I wanted to check, and I didn't want to wake up Gibbs... I know I could've called the Director, but I knew you'd hear about it and stop me from going anywhere." He looked at his watch. "No, there's no way I can leave now. I found other two bodies in the suspect's apartment. He could be back any moment, and I have to make sure he doesn't get away with this. It was brutal, the other bodies." Tony looked around to make sure Harris hadn't returned yet. "Yes, I understand. Stop worrying. I'll call for the backup right after this."

Ending the call, Tony wiped a hand over his face before making the decision. He would call Gibbs first. Perhaps it would lessen the strength of the head-slap to come. Yeah, wishful thinking.

His phone kept ringing, so he finally forced his eyes open. Looking at the time, it was a little over 11 AM. So much for the sleep, as the ringing of his phone didn't stop. Sitting up, he took the phone without looking at who the caller was. "Gibbs." There was silence, and then it was cut off. Cursing the people for hanging up on him lately, Gibbs rolled over to go back to sleep when the phone was ringing again.

"What!" he answered with a shout. Calming down for a bit, he said tiredly, "What is it, Ducky? Weren't you the one who told us to—? What are you talking about?" Listening silently, he cursed loudly once the call was over. Looking at the last caller before Ducky, he now knew who had been the one with the first call. "I will kill him myself!"

He ran to the guest room, which was obviously empty. The note on the door wasn't helpful.

'I remembered something,
possibly important and maybe case-related.
Will be back soon.
—Tony'

Cursing louder, and with the gut feeling more awake than he was, Gibbs barely even put his shoes on as he stormed out, only to realize he'd have to call a cab since his car was gone.

The place was now officially a crime scene. The bodies of the two agents from the car had been taken out, but the bodies in the suspect's apartment were still waiting, with so much more work involved. The neighbors and curious people walking by were crowding around the people working at the crime scenes. By the time Gibbs finally made it there, he got out of the car before it had even stopped. He had cursed the law-abiding cab driver all the way there, more than once close to kicking the man out, to drive himself.

"Hey!" the driver was shouting after him.

"Pay him," Gibbs ordered one of the agents, who didn't dare to argue and obeyed meekly. "Duck. Talk."

"As I told you over the phone, Jethro, I do not know enough yet. There is no sign of him here. As much as I tried to get him to leave, he refused in such a foolish and stubborn manner, which reminds me of a certain someone. I know there is no way he left on his own, and they also found some blood, which could be his."

Gibbs looked weary and showed the note to Ducky. "He should have woken me up. Why did he come here alone? He of all people should know not to go without a backup! He's a cop! That should be the very basic rule to always obey!" He ignored the fact that it was the very rule he himself loved to break.

"To be fair, perhaps he thought he would have his backup with our agents in my body bags?"

"I don't know, and I don't care. This case has gone wrong from the beginning."

"If I may say, Jethro... I know there is no way you are going to hand over the case to another team—"

"Don't you even—!"

"Jethro! Let me finish. I know there is no way you're going to do that, but, Jethro... For not your sake alone, but Anthony's, let another team at least help you. You cannot do everything on your own."

Gibbs knew Ducky was right. He hated it, but he knew he had to accept the help. His pride would not end up being the thing that would seal Tony's fate.

Pleased, seeing he had gotten through to the stubborn old Marine, Ducky nodded. "I'll be going to the Navy Yard with the bodies. Gerald and I will have our hands full today. So many cases all at once, so many bodies... But we will put this first on the list, Jethro."

"Thanks, Ducky. His life could depend on it."

"Our young friend has wormed his way into our hearts, even yours. So, if I have to, I will borrow your second b in order to do our end of the job to the best of our abilities and more."

"He hasn't—"

"Do not even dare deny it. Some people fall in love at first sight, but you... Well, you recognized the boy as yours from the moment you saw him."

Leaving with the bodies, Ducky left Gibbs standing there, staring at the scene and people working. "Where are you, Tony?"

Chapter Text

Waking up was slow and painful. He knew he had a concussion from the moment he tried opening his eyes, groaning softly. He tried covering them with his arms from the too bright light, but once again he'd been tied up. At least he was sitting in a chair this time. There were no lights on inside the room, but the bright evening sun coming from the window was already more than he could take. For a moment, he felt nausea threatening to overwhelm him. At least being tied up kept him from moving too much, which would probably make that feeling even worse.

He knew he had screwed up. He knew it from the moment he'd seen those two agents dead. And then he'd been knocked out before he could even try to fix that mistake by calling Gibbs.

Forcing himself to ignore the splitting headache, Tony kept his eyes open as he looked around the room with wood furniture and a cheap rustic look... The whole building seemed to be made of wood, which was something Gibbs would probably approve. From the window, he could barely see a hint of sparkling water, and trees. Lots of trees. A cabin. That's what this place looked like. It was pretty likely that there were no other people anywhere near. No one would hear him.

He didn't need to see it to know that he didn't have his belongings with him anymore. Hello, phone number four... If I'll even make it back in one piece, he mused, remembering those two bodies in the bathroom, and that unfinished chopping someone had started on them. Remembering the bodies, Tony couldn't help but wonder about his own sorry fate. He wasn't going to die without a fight, but by the time Gibbs and company found him, he could be dead.

'That's not an option. You hear me? You will not die. That's an order, DiNozzo!' He heard the voice of the old Marine in his head, almost as if the man were standing right next to him, and without even noticing it, his whole posture changed into more relaxed.

"Wow, boss... No matter what, I can't get away from you, can I? Be it in dreams, real life, or my own head. I have two words for you: personal space."

'You got that right, DiNozzo. Now, focus. You better be still alive and breathing on your own by the time I find you.'

"Trying, boss... The concussion, and being tied up again, makes things just a little harder, you know."

'You'll do fine. And keep your mouth shut.'

Grinning, Tony answered, "You know that's not possible." He could almost swear he heard a snort.

Looking around the living room—slash kitchen—Tony tried to listen to if he was alone, when the front door opened, revealing Thomas Harris carrying a couple of Walmart shopping bags. Well, that wasn't going to help him figure out where he was.

"Did you sleep well, Agent DiNozzo?" Thomas turned the lights on.

Flinching involuntarily at the additional bright light, Tony flashed a smile, hoping it didn't look more like a grimace. "It's Detective. I could use a little fluffing of the pillow, and my bed feels awfully uncomfortable. Not that I'm complaining, of course. Just something to remember for future guests."

Thomas laughed. "You're a funny man, DiNozzo." 

"You seem to be in an awfully good mood today. With your mother dead, I thought I'd be seeing tears, or something. You know, to make things look more genuine."

The smile faltered for a moment. Putting away the food from the bags, Thomas sat down to eat some pie leftovers. "Hungry?"

Remembering his dream and the unfinished pie in the dead agents' car, Tony felt his nausea increase. He could only hope that if he puked his guts out, it would land on his captor. "No, thanks. I'm good. You seem to be having a thing for pies. Is that why you poisoned those two with one?"

Thomas had a crooked smile on his face when he looked up from his pie. "You're good, I'll give you that, but even you don't know everything."

"It was you trying to drive the car over me, wasn't it?" Since that gave him neither the answers nor a reaction, Tony kept pushing. "Why did you kill your mother? She didn't hug you enough when you were a kid?"

Thomas looked tense as he sneered, "No, she didn't, but a spoiled rich brat like you would never understand. The moment she remarried into that wealthy family, I was forgotten, handed over to the relatives. Eventually, even they forgot about my existence. She only got what she had earned."

"I can see you've done a little background search on me." Even if it was a hit-and-miss. "Tell me something. Your stepfather. He wasn't really the violent type, was he? Sure, with him being a former Marine, he might have had some PTSD, but that's not it." It was getting harder to ignore the growing headache and nausea. The smell of the pie didn't help.

Thomas acted as if he hadn't heard him while he finished eating.

"Did your mom ever make you pies?"

Thomas threw the plate against the wall, breaking it into pieces. "She never made those for me! Only for that filthy little thing!"

"Your brother, Charles Miller. He went missing a year ago on his tenth birthday. Everyone thinks he is dead, but the body was never found."

"That little vermin only had to ask once, and he'd have her attention!" Thomas started whining in a child-like voice, "'Mommy, I want to see a movie.' 'Mommy, read me a bedtime story.' 'Mommy, I want you to make me a pie for my birthday.' That miserable little creature!"

It was always shocking to see just how much hate some had toward the innocent, and even blaming the innocent rather than the offender.

"He's just a child, and your mother is sick. She couldn't afford the help she started getting only after she met your stepfather. It was only when your brother went missing that she started having more breakdowns."

"He's not my brother!" Narrowing his eyes, Thomas walked in front of his captive. Putting his hands on Tony's shoulders, he leaned close, so that Tony could smell the pie. Cherry pie. He wouldn't be eating that for a while. Thomas held Tony's face gently between his hands as he said, "You are very good, Detective. You almost got me. But you don't know anything."

Tony had prepared to be beaten up, stabbed to death, or even poisoned. He wasn't prepared for strong hands to start choking him. He saw the crazy gleam in Thomas' eyes. "Your mother... wasn't the... crazy one... You are." He knew it had been a foolish thing to say, since the hands around his windpipe got stronger and angrier. He really had a problem with his mouth sometimes... The moment Tony was sure he was about to pass out from the lack of oxygen, he felt the grip loosening. The buzzing in his ears nearly blocked it out, but after gasping for the much-needed air for a while, he heard talking.

"...bodies. Can't be helped then. Good work, Richard. It'll keep them busy for a while."

Squinting his eyes, he looked up and saw Thomas, and with him that tall man with no emotions, Richard, as Norma Miller had called him.

"Look, Richard. Our guest is back with us." Thomas' voice was mocking. Richard, on the other hand, was perfectly still; not a hint of what he was thinking or even feeling. "Are you thirsty? Want some air?"

Raising an eyebrow, Tony opened his mouth with a perfectly sarcastic retort on his lips, but discovered his voice was barely above a whisper, and it hurt to talk, so it fell woefully short. "You're not very... guest friendly."

Thomas smiled at him. "I really do like you, DiNozzo. It's a shame we couldn't have been friends. Maybe in another life."

"No one would want... to be friends with... a madman."

"Don't call me that!" Thomas exploded and hit his hands against the table, making Tony flinch at the sudden, loud noise. Then the man laughed. "Got ya! Nice try, but you can only try that little trick once. Look after him, Richard. I'll go see if this place has a TV or a radio. I'm bored." He left, and soon Tony heard things crashing on the floor and against walls as the man went through the things in the house. Clearly, he wasn't the only first-time visitor in this place.

Turning to look at Richard, Tony was surprised by how close the man suddenly was. Back in that cave, it had been a little hard to be sure what the man looked like, but now he could easily see the charcoal suit, which he was pretty sure was covered in blood. Richard just looked at him as if he could see right through his head, or then it was just his regular face. The haircut... Well, at least the haircut was a big giveaway.

"Marine?" He wasn't surprised when he got no answer, so he tried to see which one of them would win the staring contest. With the concussion, it was no easy battle.

By the time Thomas returned, carrying a small TV, he found the two men staring at each other and barely blinking their eyes. He burst into laughter. "Oh, you are just killing me here!"

As was his way, when things didn't go well, Gibbs was biting people's heads off. "Go back and search the apartment again! Everyone makes mistakes, so there must be something we missed! No one cleans up a crime scene that well!"

"This guy did... Other than the bathroom, there are no signs that anyone even lives there."

Gibbs answered his ringing phone with a thundering voice. "What..! I'm on my way!" Not listening to what else the other person had to say, he ended the call and stormed into the elevator. Another Agent, on his way to the elevator, opted to take the stairs instead.

"Man... I've seen Gibbs during his worst days, but this takes it to a whole new level."

"I heard he made some guy in the gym cry and beat up another."

"Really? I heard he killed our new vending machine."

"I heard from a friend that his father used to work with him. He told me there are rumors about how he hunted down some guy in Mexico and shot him dead. They say he left no evidence..."

Director Tom Morrow stood, watching down at the bullpen, displeased at the loud gossiping. Already having had to deal with Gibbs personally, he was rather short-tempered himself. "Are we in high school?! Get back to work!"

For a moment, there was a complete silence in the room, until someone dropped a pen.

"Perfect. Now we've got another dragon to deal with," someone whispered, and there was a sound of very quiet laughter to be heard over the sounds of diligent working.

With a sigh, Morrow returned to his office. He had to make a phone call, which he'd been hoping he would not have to make. After all the trouble Gibbs had made him go through in order to bring in the young Detective, he'd now have to explain to DiNozzo's people how it was possible that they lost him in the hands of a possible murderer.

Gibbs stormed into the lab. "What do you have for me, Abbs?"

"I'm not talking to you until you apologize for yelling at me, Gibbs." Abby was pouting.

"Abby!"

"Sorry. It's nothing much, really. Our agents were poisoned, which we already knew."

"But?"

"But it's hard to get kind of poison. You don't just walk into some store and buy it. You have to buy it straight from the people who make it. Hardly legal, but they usually sell it as something else. These are some of the few known places where you can buy it from." She gave a piece of paper with the information on it to Gibbs, who stormed off with barely a thanks. "You owe me weeks' worth of Caf-Pow, Tony," she muttered.

It was later, while sitting in a car, that Gibbs finally took a few long breaths to calm himself down. It hadn't even been a full day, but it felt weeks long. They weren't getting anywhere. They knew how the victims had been killed, and so on. They even had identified the unknown man as the missing owner of the apartment. Possibly a friend, or a close acquaintance, of Thomas Harris. The apartment had no fingerprints, nothing. There was no way to prove the murders were done by Thomas Harris. It was frustratingly obvious that the man was guilty, but other than the bodies in the apartment that wasn't even his, there was no actual evidence against him. In reality, gut feelings only got you so far, if you didn't have anything to back them up with.

The time was running out. He could feel it.

Putting away the paper that he got from Abby, Gibbs took out another. After looking through it for a moment, he started the engine. It was time to pay another visit to the family members. All of them.

Moving slowly, Tony tried to stand up again, holding his hand against his shoulder. He knew he would be easy to find, and the blood loss was starting to take its toll on him.

'Stand up, DiNozzo,' the voice of Gibbs inside his head was commanding and, gnashing his teeth together, Tony got back on his feet. It was a slow and agonizing walk. 'Attaboy, Tony. Forget the pain. Let it come later. You don't have time to rest. Keep moving. Don't close your eyes. If you fall asleep, all is lost.'

Opening his eyes, Tony let out a shuddering sigh. "On it... boss."

'Keep moving. That's an order. You hear me, DiNozzo?'

"I hear ya... boss... Lo-loud and clear."

He had managed to drag himself a little farther, when he felt someone's eyes on him. Turning around slowly, he froze, seeing the man standing there, only a few long steps away from him. Just staring at him with that blank expression, covered in blood from head to toe, holding a kitchen knife. It was Richard. "You're still alive, I see... Good-good for you... Hard to... kill."

Tony saw the man jumping forward, and not a moment later, he felt the fight leave his body as his feet refused to carry him any farther.

Chapter Text

Staring up from where he lay, Tony closed his eyes for a moment. The concern, or emotions in general, was too strange to see. It was almost as if he'd get to watch Gibbs jump on the desk in the bullpen and do the squat dance, with a wide, sunny grin on his face. He glared at the man holding him. He was still trying to understand what happened.

Thomas was channel surfing between the few channels the TV had. "I'm disappointed. There's barely even a mention of us in the news."

"What..." Tony paused to swallow. "What do you want... from me..? Why not just kill me?" He still had a hard time getting the words out of his mouth, his voice hoarse and weak. It felt even worse, though, and he barely got enough air. Somewhat alarmed, he wondered if his throat was swollen, and if that wasn't the end of it.

"Maybe I'm lonely? You see, Richard here is not much of a talker. You entertain me, DiNozzo. Maybe I'll keep you alive for a day or two. We can make some good memories, so you will always be remembered by me. If you're good, I'll make your death so peaceful you won't even notice before it's too late." Thomas laughed at the look Tony gave him. "I'm impressed. You don't even have to speak to tell me what you think. But I'm afraid I have to punish you. No TV before bedtime." He carried the TV to the only bedroom with him. His laughter, along with the laughter of some sitcom, was heard from the room every once in a while for almost a couple of hours before there was silence in the house.

So there Tony sat, with only Richard and his stare keeping him company. It wasn't even fun to try talking to the man anymore, plus it hurt, so he had given up on that.

Several hours later, it was dark. He felt horrible, hungry and thirsty, and he needed to use the bathroom, but at least he was still breathing, or wheezing. Richard was asleep in his own chair, so even if the man would take him to the bathroom, he wasn't about to test his luck by raising his voice in the middle of the night.

Now that there wasn't anyone keeping an eye on him, and he was desperate enough, Tony tried slowly putting more weight on his feet. Once he was sure he could do it, like a turtle, with his knees bent uncomfortably, he carried his chair on his back. With his feet also tied up, it was a challenge getting to the kitchen area, quietly, and not just because of his uncomfortable situation. It was dark, and he had to keep avoiding crashing into anything. Somehow, by some miracle, he eventually made it.

He needed a knife. Looking around, he saw the moonlight from the window hit against something shiny. Finally! he thought with relief, until he saw it move.

"Need some help?"

For a moment, Tony froze. The owner of that quiet yet deep and thundering voice moved him so that he was sitting again. He then felt and heard a knife cutting through his bindings. Finally able to stand straight and free, Tony turned around to see the dark silhouette. He realized who it was only after the man stepped into the moonlight. "Richard?" He could hardly believe his eyes.

"No time to talk. Thomas sleeps like a dog. Hit me on the head with something, and leave. I'll be punished, but he won't be questioning my loyalty."

"Why?"

"He has my brother. His and mine. Dead or alive, our family needs a closure."

"You're Thomas'... step-brother... There was... no mention of you."

"I was a child born outside of marriage. Not something our family likes to brag about. But we don't have time for this. You have to go."

There was a familiar sound of a handgun, and both men froze and turned around. Thomas turned the lights on and didn't even blink at the sudden bright light in the room.

"I can see that you've been bonding while I looked away, leaving me out of this beautiful moment. Aren't you glad I decided to skip the sleeping?" Holding the gun, Thomas moved slowly forward. He was pointing it at Tony, but it was clear he wouldn't hesitate to shoot Richard. "So, suddenly, my mute right hand can speak more than a few words at a time."

His body tense and ready to move, Tony kept his eyes on the gun. He would rather he died than someone who had just tried to help him.

Thomas spoke with a coldness that fit perfectly the air in the room. "Richard. Is that even your real name? Why did you betray me, and for what? And I really did like you, Detective, so no offense." He pulled the trigger.

Tony was expecting to drop dead right then. Instead, he did feel pain, but it was only his left shoulder. 'Only'. At least he was still alive.

"How dare you!" Thomas screeched furiously in the midst of a violent battle for the gun between him and Richard. Although Thomas was much smaller, he had hidden strength, and he was filled with rage.

Tony took a shaky step, when Richard yelled at him, pleading, "Go! I'll be right behind you!"

It was the overwhelming feeling of lightheadedness, and tightness in his throat, that forced him to agree. "Semper fi," Tony finally said, feeling frustratingly powerless.

He hadn't wanted to go, but arguing about it could have cost Richard his life, while the man was still risking his own life to save him. And he was unsure how much help he could have been when he couldn't even see straight, much less move his left arm. Tony had ended up walking for what felt like hours, not seeing any people, cars, or houses anywhere. Just the forest on both sides of the dusty road.

"I'll slow us down... Leave me... You can... call help."

"No man is left behind," Richard said and hauled Tony to his feet and started walking, pretty much carrying the younger man.

"What happened?"

"He's dead. Unless he can fix a hole in his heart and put back in all that blood he lost," Richard said, looking calm. When he noticed that he was still holding the knife, he dropped it.

"Your brother?" Tony asked. He felt sorry when he caught the brief flash of something that could have only been pain.

"I asked Thomas. Charly... He's been dead for a long time. Starvation." Richard was looking stone-faced again.

"I'm sorry."

"I knew that he's probably dead. Now I just have to find his body and bring my brother home."

After a long walk in silence, Tony said again, "Should have... taken the car."

"No gasoline."

Gibbs was sitting behind his desk in the bullpen, alone, since the team helping him had gone home to sleep two hours ago. Ducky had also finally left home, after making Gibbs promise to call him if there was anything he could help with. Abby was still at work, taking power naps in her lab.

Despite all the hard work, and even with Gibbs' 'second b for bastard', they hadn't been able to learn anything new. Nothing that was useful. Criminals who were too smart and knew what they were doing were hard to work against. The family on both sides didn't know anything helpful, or if they did, they were having the time of their lives by making the agents do extra work, thanks to all the false information they gave. Some of those people—Norma Miller's and Thomas Harris' side of the family—Gibbs had simply thrown in jail for a night. That had ended the episode of 'let's make them run around for our amusement.' On the husband's side of the family, he kept getting blank stares and people who knew nothing and said nothing.

Looking through the papers on his desk again, Gibbs sighed. His gut had stopped giving him any signs. Was it too late? That's when his phone rang. At 3 AM. Closing his eyes for a moment, trying to prepare himself for the worst, he answered, "Gibbs."

"Gibbs." The voice was barely loud enough, and it sounded strange. He was immediately on full alert, although he did feel relief course through him.

"Tony? Where are you?"

"Hospital." The young man started coughing, and even that sounded odd. Gibbs heard a faint, "Richard," and then it was another voice speaking. Deep and thundering.

"Agent Gibbs. We are at the..." Giving the name of the hospital and address, the man gave the phone back to Tony.

"Tony! What happened?! We've been working all day trying to find you! What was going through your head anyway, going there alone?! DiNozzo! Are you listening?!"

"Later... Sleep." With that, Tony hung up, leaving Gibbs in a stunned silence.

"Anthony DiNozzo."

The nurse looked at Gibbs with raised eyebrows. He knew he wasn't at his best. He hadn't shaved since before he and Tony started with the case, there was a huge coffee stain on the front of his shirt, and he looked threatening. It was too easy to intimidate her into compliance. Choosing wisely, the nurse decided to show him the room herself, after checking his ID, which he'd barely remembered to take with him before leaving the Navy Yard.

Gibbs entered the room, anxious over what he was going to find. It wasn't a good sight, but it wasn't as bad as it could have been. Remembering those two bodies in the bathroom, Gibbs relaxed. He let his eyes wander over the sleeping man in bed. There was obviously a head injury of some kind, since the head had been wrapped up. And the breathing, just like Tony's voice on the phone, sounded strange. Kind of raspy and slightly wheezy.

"He was shot in the left shoulder, lost a little too much blood, and he has a concussion."

Gibbs had almost forgotten about the nurse. "But he'll be okay?"

"He will be just fine. It sounds and looks worse than it is. He won't be speaking too much for a little while, though. After the choking, his throat and windpipe have been a little—"

"Choking?"

The nurse looked as though he was meant to know that little detail already. "I'll bring another chair." She left, and only then did Gibbs realize he wasn't alone with Tony in the room.

"What are you doing here?"

Richard, who was only slightly patched up, stared at him without saying anything. Gibbs' hackles rose at that. He was done with that kind of attitude, and with this case.

"You lay one finger on him and I swear—"

"Gibbs... He's okay. We... talk later. Sleep... Look horrible." Tony sounded tired as he spoke from under the blankets, his voice barely audible.

"DiNozzo... Say one word, and I'll throw his ass out, or in jail."

"Owe him... my life."

Gibbs sat in the chair when the nurse brought it into the room. Sensing the icy mood in the room, she gave a warning glare before leaving again.

"Pretty, but... ice queen... You should date... Richard... Stone ice... Stonice?"

To Gibbs' bemusement, the stone-faced man snorted, and then he spoke. It was that deep, thundering voice from the phone. "Get some sleep, Tony. I promise I won't leave anywhere before we have talked."

"Marine promise..? Promised me... cotton candy."

"Just sleep. I'll be watching your six." There was slight amusement evident in Richard's voice.

"Horseback... riding..." Mumbling something else, Tony fell asleep.

Balling his hands into fists, Gibbs did his very best to keep his calm appearance. It was his job to watch DiNozzo's six. At the same time, he couldn't believe he was feeling like this, jealous, of all things.

Richard responded to the glare with the usual stone face before returning his gaze back to the man separating him from Gibbs' fury.

It felt good to know Gibbs was watching his six, just like in the past... dream. He couldn't possibly admit that to the old Marine, though. Keeping his eyes closed, Tony listened to the quiet voices in the room.

"Jethro. You are not going to make things better by giving Richard a black eye."

Wait, what? Black eye? What on earth happened while he was out? Tony dared to open an eye, only to shut it quickly.

"That slimeball asked for it."

"Jethro... I understand your feelings, I really do. However, the hospital is not a proper place for some Marine pissing contest."

"It was not a pissing contest," Gibbs grumbled.

"You're right. The man didn't even return your punch. He was the very picture of calm as the nurse took him. So, now that you have successfully marked your territory, as it were, have you calmed down or do I have to let them bring in the security next time?"

"Ducky..." Gibbs sounded embarrassed.

"Once the nurse brings him back, I do not want to see or hear more of such incidents, Jethro. Anthony needs to rest."

"Little excitement... livens up the place... Tone down... the colors, though." Tony's hoarse mumbling brought the attention to him.

"Anthony... You are in for one big scolding and a couple of head-slaps. Once you are well enough, that is. So do make sure you will be healthy soon."

Tony cringed and then blinked. Ducky's face looked weird. Gibbs' too. "Couple?"

"One from Jethro and one from me. Now, tell me. How are you feeling, my boy? I heard you were throwing up half the night, until they changed the medication. Seems you are reacting a little differently to the usual drugs than most people."

"Thirsty."

Giving him some water to drink, Gibbs looked curiously at Tony waving his hand around the air, through the colors only he could see.

"Are you in pain? Do you need more pain medication? Another pillow? I know the one you have cannot be comfortable." Unlike Gibbs, Ducky was openly worried.

Shaking his right hand, Tony chuckled. "No more meds... Duckman... They don't listen... bad doctors... Drugs, drugs... make me nuts... You look funny." And he most certainly wasn't giggling now. Right? He wasn't sure. Everything was too funny, and kind of scary. Upsidy down, the walls went. And the colors were noisy. Feeling sick, he closed his eyes. "Walls falling... Take me home... Please." His 'trippy' experience was turning into a bad one.

Clearing his throat, Ducky was finally able to speak again. "I'm afraid that would not be wise yet, Anthony. You have a bullet wound and a concussion."

"If it's fine by the doctors, he can stay with me." That was Richard speaking as he returned. His bleeding nose had been taken care of, but there wasn't much to be done to his soon-to-be black eye.

Gibbs spoke out before he had time to even give it much thought, and the tone of his voice was only as polite as he was able to muster out of himself. "That's unnecessary. DiNozzo is staying at my place."

Richard stared without saying anything, and then he simply nodded. Ducky had an amused smile on his face, and Gibbs' glare was practically screaming at him, 'don't say it!'

Chapter Text

Walking toward the room, Abby prepared the speech in her head. She was going to say a few chosen words to the Detective. Disobeying Ducky's orders, going around behind Gibbs' back, getting into trouble, and then turning Gibbs into such a... Such... Well, she didn't have a word for it yet, but Gibbs didn't straight-out yell at her. Ever. Not before this. And she had never before heard him talk like that to Ducky, even if Gibbs had later apologized. In his own way. The whole building had been in chaos, with Gibbs upsetting and scaring anyone unlucky enough to get in his way. She would much rather bring back Stan Burley than keep this Detective who had started turning everything upside down before even stepping into the building. Yep, she was going to stop being nice to this DiNozzo guy and put on her mean Abby face.

Nodding her head, she took a deep breath and opened the door to Tony's hospital room.

No word left her mouth as she just stood there. It was unfair. He was too much. Someone had brought a huge teddy bear next to him. Add that to the—clearly high on the pain medicine—goofy look on his face, and she had already lost the fight. How could one grown up man pull off two so completely different looks? From the tight leather pants to this.

"Abby?" Gibbs looked up from the newspaper he'd been reading, confused when she was just standing at the door.

"I'll be back." And she was gone.

Finally drug-free, as per his demand, Tony sent Gibbs home to get some rest. After a warning glare toward Richard, Gibbs let Abby drag him away. She had been snapping photos of Tony with her camera whenever she thought he didn't see it. It was true that he had not seen, but he sure had heard it.

"Should we talk now or..? You need sleep."

Richard stood up and made sure the door was closed. "I'm not sure where to begin."

"How about... go with the flow?" Rubbing his throat, Tony tried to ignore the memory of not having been able to breathe. He was already scarred for life from his dream under the blue lights, and all the repercussions.

"Richard is my last name. People assume it's my first name, so they call me that, even after they find out the truth. My full name is Jonathan Richard. I am—was a Marine. I joined the Marine Corps as soon as I could, but by the time I was thirty, I lost my leg, which ended my career. It's been a little over ten years from that."

"Wait..? Your leg?"

Richard sat down and rolled up his left pant leg, revealing a prosthesis.

"Couldn't even... tell." Tony was impressed.

"Took years of practice."

Covering the mechanical leg again, Richard looked quietly at Tony. "I wish we had met a couple of years ago. Before Thomas."

Opening his mouth, Tony closed it again when Richard held up his hand for silence. "I know it hurts, so try to refrain from speaking too much. Let me do the talking this time."

Tony nodded and leaned back against the pillows.

With open regret on his face, Richard took a deep breath. "I hate to say this, but I don't want to put you in the position of having to arrest me, or to have to testify against me. I haven't known you long, but I know your moral code as a cop is strong. I don't want you to break it in order to pay back the debt of me saving your life. There is no debt to pay. Just because I didn't kill them, I let it happen under my watch. I hurt you. I was in that car with Norma following you and Agent Gibbs, while Thomas hit your car with someone else's car. I had no idea he was going to do that, but once I knew, I still didn't do anything about it. I helped him carry you two down to that cave. I helped Thomas cover up his crimes. I changed Norma's drugs into his when he told me to do it."

"You left... the bodies."

"Only because I couldn't even look at them long enough. Having seen it all happen was too much for me. I stood right next to him as he killed Norma. I did nothing! Her blood was all over me. I stood in the bedroom while you and Agent Gibbs came for the visit. I sneaked outside after you two, and I could have said something then. I did nothing. I'm no better than Thomas. I deserve to be punished for many things I did or didn't do, but I can't go to prison. Not yet."

"Charles."

"My family despised me, the child born outside the marriage. Yet from the moment that little boy came into this world, he smiled at me. He was your very typical Miller who didn't show emotions, but he smiled whenever he saw me." Richard almost smiled then. "Being a Marine was everything I ever had in my entire life, and it had just been taken from me in the form of one lost leg. He gave me a new will to live, and now he's gone. That little boy who could even make Norma feel some form of love in her black heart. I knew it was Thomas who took him before she found out. My reason was pure when I joined Thomas, to feign loyalty as I tried to find out what he had done to Charly, but as time went on... I lost myself. Then I met you."

Tony was confused, and the next words made him feel uncomfortable. Unworthy.

"You are the kind of man I could imagine little Charly to grow up to be. You have that same look in your eyes at certain moments. Your smile... It's his smile. The fact is, you opened my eyes to see what I had become. To remember what I once was with Charly. Now he's gone to a happier place, and although I don't think I deserve such grace, I've seen through you a glimpse of what might have been."

Tony stared at the man, looking older than his age, every line on his face standing out like they hadn't before. "Now what?"

"I still have one last thing to do. I have to find his body and bring him home. It can take days, or it can take years. I will personally hand myself over to the police the moment I have finished what I started. I swear to you, this time I won't lose my sight. I'll give you my word."

"Let me know when... your job is done... So I can visit you... and bring flowers... on your brother's grave... You did save my life."

Richard stared at Tony, and then the face made of stone broke into a smile. He never explained the reason behind his mirth. He spoke so softly, Tony almost missed the words. "Thank you."

"You won't... give yourself up... So, what?"

Richard stood up, and then he sat down on Tony's bed. "You're not fit to be arresting anyone or yelling for help. You have no phone near you either. When people start asking questions, you tell them the truth. I left while you were sleeping. There's another thing... I don't know what's going on between you and Agent Gibbs, but let him watch your six for me. Promise me that."

He wanted to say no. That it was the one thing he could not possibly promise to do, but he saw the serious look on the man's face. "I promise, Jonathan."

Richard smiled again as he said gruffly, "Now, give me a hug."

Laughing, Tony pulled the man into a brotherly hug. "First the smiling... now the..." Tony froze. He knew what was happening and tried to pull away from the hand, but it was too late as he felt the pressure. "Don't—"

"Sorry, Tony. I promise I will never forget you, or the promise I made." Richard made sure to not hurt the young man, and then he stood up. Looking at the sleeping face in bed one last time, he left the room.

Much later, Tony woke up cursing those sneaky Marines with their sneaky skills... Well, those he was close to anyway. Rubbing his numb half of the face, he looked around the room. He was alone. Looking at the chair, previously occupied by Richard, he stared in awe at the biggest cotton candy he had ever seen, sparkling in all the colors of the rainbow. Man, that thing looked so unhealthy. It was like one big sugary death. Ducky was not going to be pleased.

"Where is he?" was the first thing Gibbs asked as he entered the hospital room. Sure, he was glad that he didn't have to deal with Richard again, but something about the look on Tony's face made his gut churn.

Tony shrugged, eating an enormous cotton candy. He was starting to look a little ill. "Gone."

"Gone. What do you mean, gone?"

"Left while I... was sleeping... Not coming back."

"That little..."

"He has... something to do... Important."

Gibbs sat down silently, trying to read Tony and his mood. "That sugar thing from him?"

Tony looked embarrassed. "Yeah... He promised."

"You know, Ducky is going to be watching over your diet like a hawk if you get caught eating that."

"That's why... I'm eating this now."

"You better not start jumping on the walls high on sugar after this, DiNozzo... I don't think anyone can finish that in one day."

"Feeling kind of... sick, actually."

"Then why are you eating it?"

Tony didn't answer and just kept eating silently. The realization, why, hit the older man. Gibbs felt the black cloud of jealousy looming over him again.

"Try to eat faster then. Ducky is coming in less than an hour from now. He decided that Gerald can deal with the remaining work today."

Looking almost green, Tony forced himself to eat faster.

"Here, my boy. I know you are going home, to Jethro's that is, but I figured you might want some real food instead of what they offer you here in the hospital."

Gibbs, pretending to read a book he had no real interest in, glanced at the two men. Ducky for now didn't notice anything out of ordinary, and DiNozzo...

Tony felt sick to his stomach, and he was sweating. He couldn't even think about eating anything sweet, ever again. After having finished eating the cotton candy monster, he had just been lying in bed, feeling utterly and completely full, and so sick that he was afraid to move.

Ducky worried. "What is it, Anthony? Are you not feeling well? Did they take you off the medication too soon? Jethro. Be kind and watch over the boy for me while I'll go and find his doctor."

"Wait. Ducky..." Tony face-palmed when Ducky left the room in a hurry. He couldn't even raise his voice right now. He turned his face toward Gibbs, who was still pretending to read that book. "Gibbs," he started.

"Not a chance, DiNozzo."

It didn't take too long for Ducky to return with the Doctor. After examining the red-faced young man, the Doctor laughed. "He's fine. It's just a little thing called overeating. Cotton candy maybe?" Of course, he had seen the thing in the room...

Ducky narrowed his eyes and turned to look at the young man, who looked anywhere but at him. "Something you wish to tell me, Anthony?"

Tony willed the floor to swallow the bed and him with it. Didn't happen.

Ever since that day, Tony started having cotton candy delivered to him at random, and he always ate the thing. There was always a card with the candy. It didn't say who it was from, but it always had the same words:

'I will never forget.'

Chapter Text

"You know, the case will be officially closed now."

"What makes you think that, DiNozzo?"

It would be Tony's third night spending there after his visit to the hospital, which was a time he could barely even remember. Just a few moments from here and there, depending on how heavily he had been drugged, before he finally took back his autonomy. He even had a strange memory of an old man in his room...

Sitting on his bed, Tony was having a huge argument with the Doctor. He was still under the influence of the medication, but at least his mind had cleared enough before the next dose. He was getting agitated, being cornered by people trying to manipulate him while he had his guard down. "No drugs, or I swear... I'll sign myself... out!" He wheezed painfully.

Ducky, looking calm as ever, spoke before the Doctor did. "Some of those medications are for your own good—"

"They all are," the Doctor interrupted, displeased. Ducky ignored him, as did everyone else in the room.

"Anthony. At least lie down and calm down before you hurt yourself. You have a concussion and a bullet wound. If you won't do it for yourself, then do it for me."

There was a moment of silence in the room, and everyone held their breaths, waiting to see what the cranky and more or less disoriented patient would decide. They all looked relieved when he lay down. Richard was the only one who didn't show that emotion wide open on his face. It was hard, as usual, to tell what was going on in his head.

"Fine... For you." Tony agreed, and then he frowned. While he was no longer flying high, things were still looking at times rather... odd, from his point of view. He stared at his fingers as if they were the most fascinating thing he'd ever seen. "Wiggly toes." He waved them around.

"Is he in immediate danger without the drugs right now?" Ducky was talking to the Doctor.

"Well, no, but to make sure there are no complications, he needs to—"

The door opened and as they looked, a gray, balding head peeked inside. An old man with a wide, toothless smile, possibly in his early nineties, entered the room carrying a huge teddy bear. Squinting his eyes, he walked to the bed and dropped the bear over Tony's feet. He reached over to ruffle Tony's hair, who was at this point starting to look creeped out, trying to disappear further into bed, away from the offending hand. "You've grown, Annie. Did your momma cut your hair again? You had such a pretty hair."

"Mr. Clifford!" A nurse ran into the room. She didn't give the people in the room a single glance as she took the old man with her, who promised to come again.

"We, ah... probably should...return this." Tony held the bear, and seeing what he was doing, he dropped it quickly.

Gibbs reached over to take the bear and then, with a smirk, he put it next to the young man. "Until we find the man or that girl, you can look after it, Annie." Ignoring the glare, Gibbs turned his attention back to the newspaper he'd been 'reading'. When the door opened again, he looked up and saw Abby standing at the door.

Later, they had another argument when Tony was ready to leave the hospital with or without help. Despite having Gibbs' promise that Tony would stay with him and that both he and Ducky would be keeping an eye on the young man, the Doctor had fought to keep Tony there for at least one more night.

'It's still too soon,' he had kept telling them.

While Gibbs and Ducky were still talking to the Doctor, or arguing, really, Tony had finally had enough of waiting and disappeared when no one was looking at him. Sneaking out of his hospital room had been easy, since none of the people in there had yet been dealing with his tendencies of escaping from the hospitals and doctors the moment he got the chance. Living through the plague did that to a person, especially if one was not a fan of the hospitals in the first place... With his bare behind for all to see—which wasn't that hairy, thank you very much, Ziva—Tony had walked proudly and unashamedly across the hallway.

By the time he had been found, signing himself out AMA, the Doctor finally gave up with his arms up in the air. 'I wash my hands of this,' was the last thing he said to them.

Distracted, Tony took his time answering Gibbs, which caused him to nearly choke when he tried to swallow a piece that was too big. It was a miracle he didn't start to panic.

"God gave you teeth, DiNozzo. Use them." Although Gibbs said it with his usual gruff manner, he kept a watchful eye on the Detective, looking worried.

Taking a sip of his water, Tony gave a hopeful look at the bottle of beer, which Gibbs had taken from him. Didn't matter if he refused to take his medicine, alcohol was right now off-limits. Seeing the look, Gibbs took the bottle, opened it, and for a very short moment Tony actually thought the man was going to give it to him. Instead, as if he hadn't seen his guest eyeing the bottle now and then, Gibbs took a big sip himself, looking smug. Bastard... Tony rolled his eyes.

"You are an evil man, Agent Gibbs. You know, I'm not a child and I can take perfectly good care of myself. I don't need to see you first thing in the morning as I open my eyes either. My heart doesn't thank you. Some people would even call that a little creepy." For all that he complained, Tony was grateful that he was finally able to talk properly, even if it was still a little uncomfortable.

"You need me to chew that for you?" Gibbs responded dryly, pointing toward the next piece of the steak Tony was about to put in his mouth.

"Very funny. Beyond hilarious." Tony looked at Gibbs, to show the man that he could chew his own food just fine. McGeek and Ziva would be having the time of their lives had they seen him and Gibbs right now— Tony froze, and he dropped the piece of meat back on the plate, swearing inwardly. For a few days, he had hardly even given it a thought. Would he ever be free from that curse of a dream?

"Tony, you okay?"

Tony flashed a smile. "Everything's perfect, boss—Gibbs. Sorry. I've no idea why I keep slipping on that one."

"I don't really mind. I kind of like hearing it, actually. Wouldn't hate hearing you call me that more often." Gibbs had an odd look on his face, as if he was trying to tell something more with what he had just said.

Tony looked away. He could see what the man was trying to do, to say. Just speak out if you want something, he thought to himself. It was true that he had promised Richard to let Gibbs watch his six. However, there was a loophole in the contract. He hadn't said anything about joining the NCIS... So, Tony decided to play ignorant. Let the man think he wasn't a mind reader, just like all the other normal people. "So, as I was saying... The case. It'll be closed now. Although I wasn't able to help much, my job here is done."

Gibbs looked frustrated, although, to other people it would've looked like a glare. Unfortunately, Tony wasn't a normal person. He could read the true emotion all too well. Still, even while knowing what was really behind the seemingly obvious look... "You know. It's hard to eat when you're glaring at me like that, Agent."

"The case is still open."

"Look... Was that mysterious evidence box sent to you not enough? I mean, it did have all you would need to at the very least prove that Harris murdered three people. One of them being our victim. Case closed."

"Like you wouldn't know where the box came from."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

Even knowing that Gibbs knew, Tony enjoyed keeping up the facade of complete ignorance. After all, he had always been a man of masks. Always hiding behind a different one. Sometimes he even had several masks on at the same time. So whenever there was someone who was sure of having revealed the real Anthony D. DiNozzo, they couldn't be more wrong. Gibbs got close—too close—before that explosion and memory loss. Before Kate.

Closing his eyes, Tony remembered, the 'past' that wasn't...

Tony sat playing the grand piano, which was a little too big for his apartment, but he didn't mind. He needed this now and then, his 'alone time' away from people. Away from the crime scenes in his head. He knew that it wouldn't last, but for that little moment, he was free from everything. There was nothing. There was—

"Boss." He had felt the presence behind him before the familiar scent of sawdust mixed with coffee and bourbon hit his nose. He turned around to see the sheepish look on Gibbs' face, before it was gone.

"I rang the doorbell and knocked."

Although he was feeling uncomfortable, Tony flashed his smile. "So you broke in. You know, I could get you in trouble for that."

Gibbs shrugged and held up his steaming cup of coffee. Drinking from it, he seemed surprised to find out it was good.

"Go ahead. There's some fresh coffee in the kitchen. Help yourself," Tony muttered.

"You obviously knew I was coming."

"What makes you think that?" Standing up, Tony felt nervous that his boss had just walked into his home—his sanctuary—as if it were the most normal thing to do, but he hid it behind a smile.

"It's real coffee," Gibbs muttered as he took another sip from the slightly cracked cup. It was always the one closest to grab, which meant Gibbs took the first thing he saw. At least it'd been washed. Probably.

Tony cast a slightly resentful glance toward the cup, feeling almost violated. It was his favorite cup. His. "There's nothing wrong with the coffee I drink." Shrugging his jacket off, Tony went into the kitchen and started looking through the fast-food menus. He needed comfort food, but also something simple, so it had to be pizza. Then he had to find a new favorite cup to use, and keep it somewhere Gibbs would never even think to go looking for anything.

"Why do you bother looking through those if you're only going to order that same pizza every time?" Of course, the older man had followed him... and was now opening the cupboards as if he owned the place. Finding both sugar and honey, he took them out and set on the table, ready for the young man to use.

Setting the menu aside, Tony looked at his boss. "I don't know. Maybe I just like doing it... What do you want, Gibbs?"

"Was worried you might do something stupid. I saw your face, DiNozzo, when we found the body." Studying the blank look on Tony's face for a moment, the look on Gibbs' face softened. "We can't save them all. You know that better than most people. We were late even before the case started. Always two steps behind. There was nothing anyone could have done."

"Say that to the boy's family. Oh, I forgot. He didn't have anyone." Tony poured some coffee for himself. Only some, because then he filled the cup with so much sugar and honey that even he wouldn't be able to drink it.

Wincing at the sight of a ruined coffee, Gibbs' eyes snapped to Tony's hands. It was barely there, but of course he saw it. Standing up, he gently took the cup from the shaking hands.

"What?"

"There was nothing you could have done to save him. Nothing. I know deep down you do know it. You were a cop. You are a cop. You've seen more crime scenes than most people. More than even most agents. Maybe even more than I have." After waiting for some kind of answer, or maybe a reaction, but getting none, Gibbs sighed. "Stop beating yourself over this. Come on now, son."

And that's when Tony finally broke down. He would never talk about how he had wept, and Gibbs would never talk about how he had for a moment put aside his 'second b for bastard'.

It was maybe after that incident when they really started to get closer, maybe sooner, but the fact was that Gibbs had slowly started finding the real Anthony DiNozzo. He had gotten so close. Perhaps closer than anyone else before. How easily things changed, even with the people who you thought would never let you down...

He looked up when Gibbs' phone rang. Work call, Tony was sure of it. Although Gibbs had very reluctantly agreed to share most of the work load with his 'borrowed team', no one was stupid enough to not keep him updated. Standing up, Tony took both of their plates in the kitchen. While he was making more coffee, Gibbs joined him, looking as if he didn't know what to say.

"Well, don't look like that. I can make perfectly good coffee. You should know that by now."

Gibbs sighed and ran a hand over his head. Seeing the serious look on the man's face, Tony frowned. Had the phone call been bad news? 

"What?" he finally asked.

"Richard. He..."

Tony felt fear rushing through his veins. No...

"They put out a search warrant on him. There is new evidence that puts him on at least a couple of the crime scenes with Harris. He at the very least witnessed some of those murders. Maybe more."

Tony blinked his eyes, relief washing over him. So he wasn't dead... "Oh."

"Oh? DiNozzo..."

"Thank you for the food, Gibbs. If it's all right with you, I need some sleep."

Staring after the man leaving the kitchen, Gibbs shook his head. Whenever he thought he had taken one step forward, he found himself stumbling back a couple of steps. The mystery of this Detective remained unsolved.

Chapter Text

Entering the bullpen early in the morning, Gibbs shook his head when he saw the young Detective sitting behind a desk—papers scattered all over it—with a faraway look on his face and chewing at the other end of the pen he was holding.

"You collecting head-slaps, DiNozzo?" He was referencing to Tony's little stunt from the first full night at Gibbs' place when he tried to sneak out and go to a hotel. He'd made it so far as the front door before Gibbs dragged him back and threatened to call Ducky, or take him back to the hospital. Although Tony hadn't tried to escape again, Gibbs barely let the Detective out of his sight after that. He was also the one to take Tony to his dentist's appointment. Somehow, he had still managed to sneak past Gibbs this morning, which was more than a little impressive. Thankfully, Abby had snitched. She'd come to work early and found their patient sitting in the bullpen, working hard.

While Gibbs was standing there, waiting for an answer, Tony kept staring in front of him as he went through all the case-related moments from day one. Other than a few minor details, the case was pretty much closed now, or it would be, with Richard on the run. Still, for Tony it was over, with mostly paperwork left to be done. Thomas Harris' body had already gone through the morgue as well. Without knowing it, Ducky had confirmed Richard's story of how he had killed the man. The more he went through the case in his head, the more he noticed small little unanswered questions here and there, although probably not that important for the case in question. He hoped. And maybe trying to think so hard with a concussion still giving him a bit of a hard time wasn't the brightest idea.

There was a gentle tap against the back of his head, and he flinched. More out of surprise than pain. He looked up, taking out the pen from his mouth. Hiding a wide yawn behind his hand, he said, "Morning, Gibbs."

"How long have you been working?" Gibbs sat down behind his desk, sipping his coffee.

"Didn't look at the time."

"I can ask Abby to look it up. Try again."

"3 AM." It was almost 7 AM now and Tony was exhausted. He hadn't slept all night. Not that he hadn't been trying.

"DiNozzo..."

"Who do you think was the true bad guy in this whole thing?"

"What matters is we got the murderer, even if he is dead. Lucky him." There was a dark tone in Gibbs' voice as he said it. "We did our part. There's nothing else we can do, especially since they are all dead." The unspoken words, other than Richard, were left hanging in the air.

"I think Harris was the craziest, but that could be because of his DNA and the way he grew up. Then there's the stepfather. What do you think of him?"

"I think you should give your head a rest. They all had their secrets. Finish what you were writing, and then I'll take you back home. Did you take your medicine?"

"You know I don't take them, or have you forgotten what they do to me? Drugs and I do not mix."

"I haven't noticed." Gibbs was being sarcastic. After that, they were silent, both looking contemplating.

"Gibbs."

"DiNozzo."

They spoke at the same time, and Gibbs looked at Tony, waiting for him to speak first.

"The case is closed, and I've been ordered to go back by my boss. He wasn't exactly thrilled that he wasn't informed. I mean, talk about an unpleasant surprise, coming back from your day off to find out one of your star players has been kidnapped. I knew you can be a real fox in a henhouse, but I was still a little shocked to discover you didn't even tell him about borrowing me." Tony couldn't help but feel the irony of this whole thing. Whether Gibbs was the same now or not, in the dream he used to always be so angry whenever people borrowed Tony for their undercover missions or offered him jobs. Personally, Tony didn't like being treated like some kind of possession without a mind of his own, or used in their personal power games like a pawn, where he had worth only while he was useful.

Gibbs shrugged. "Didn't see much need for that."

"Of course you didn't. By the way, your Director wants to see you."

Gibbs scowled. "Right... We'll continue later. Don't go anywhere." He left, grumbling something.

Tony waited until he was sure the man was with the Director. He had a reason to come to work so early. Although Richard did send that evidence box and the case looked pretty solid, he wanted to go through the papers once more, just to make sure he had nothing else keeping him there. But it wasn't the only reason. Standing up, Tony made his way to the elevator, where he hesitated for a moment as he tried to decide which place he should visit first; Abby or Ducky? Knowing he'd been avoiding this long enough, he chose the lab. But first, he needed to get something as a peace offering...

He couldn't help it. Try as he did, he couldn't hold back the smile forming on his face when he entered the lab, overtaken by nostalgia, even while he could tell he'd be leaving with a splitting headache. Loud 'music' was blaring and while the machines did their work, Abby was snoring. Looking at her brought back so many 'memories'. It was hard to believe they used to be close. With Gibbs, it had been more in your face. The tricky part was figuring out when had the simply gruff attitude turned into flat-out hostility. Even cruelty. While she hadn't been yelling and handing out full-on abuse 24/7, it didn't take long for her to pick up on Gibbs' new attitude, and follow it without hesitation. Not quite in your face, but just as hurtful. She had been the sister they all had more or less spoiled. Maybe that was the problem? Maybe if they had done things differently...

Schooling his features into something more neutral than his mix of emotions, Tony turned off the music. The silence had never felt so good as then.

"I wasn't sleeping!" Abby bolted up straight in the chair. Looking around groggily, she spotted the Detective standing in her lab.

Tony held back his smile. "Sure you weren't."

Abby narrowed her eyes, then her eyes spotted the Caf-Pow. For a moment, she hesitated, but then she glared. "I was only taking a nap. Big difference. I'm waiting for Gibbs to bring me my Caf-Pow."

Tony frowned. He hadn't missed the not-so-subtle, 'this is Gibbs' job' and 'you're not Gibbs'. This was different, he realized with abashment. Sure, even 'back then' they hadn't been friends from day one, but... It was almost as if his dream Abby from those later years had jumped into the real world. Unless he had a selective memory when it came to those 'golden first years'... Forcing a smile on his face, Tony held out the Caf-Pow. "I know. Gibbs had to go see the Director, so he sent me to bring it to you. I'm the delivery boy."

Hesitating again, Abby snatched the Caf-Pow and took a long sip. "Ah... Bossman always manages to save the day, even when he's not here."

Tony turned around to leave, before he remembered his reason for being there in the first place. "I almost forgot. I've been meaning to apologize for my attitude when you got me those clothes. I'm sorry, and thank you for going through the trouble, even if I couldn't wear them."

Abby stared at him with a dark look and didn't answer.

"That's all. Have a good day, Abigail." Tony nodded uncertainly and left the room.

"...so no matter what I told her, it didn't matter at all. She had become like a woman possessed. That's why, do not ever underestimate a woman who wears red shoes." Ducky finished his long-winded tale just as Tony entered the morgue, where Ducky and Gerald were doing an autopsy.

"I thought the story was about a box of chocolates? Where do the red shoes fit in?" Gerald was confused.

"It's because Ducky has a theory over his years of experience with women," Tony answered for Ducky, who smiled at him.

Gerald still looked confused, so Tony introduced himself. "I'm Tony. Detective from Baltimore."

"Ah. Ducky told me about you. I'm Gerald Jackson, his assistant. I would shake your hand, but..." He held up his hands, which were more or less covered in blood.

"That's all right."

"Anthony." Ducky shook his head. "You shouldn't be back to work yet, young man," he scolded.

"I know, Ducky, but I had to come. I'm going back to Baltimore. Today."

Ducky looked wistful. "I hope this isn't goodbye for good."

"No, and I promised you not to make any decisions while I'm angry, so that's not what this is. I just won't be working here. Too many bad memories. Can hardly keep my head on straight."

"I understand it, Anthony. Although, I cannot say I completely agree with your decision. Does Jethro know?"

"No. Well, he'll know soon enough. He can't even say clearly that—if he wants me here. Does the man have some issues with simply asking? I even heard once from Kate how—" Tony closed his eyes and took a deep breath. Once again, he almost forgot that they didn't even know her. About her. Did she even exist? "Anyway. I wanted to say goodbye, or rather, see you soon." Not caring that he'd get some blood on himself, Tony awkwardly hugged the old man, who was more than happy to return it now, as Tony's shirt was stained with blood anyway.

"Please tell me you're not going to be driving. With your concussion and that bullet wound..."

"No need to worry. I'm taking a cab."

"Would that not be too expensive? Surely, I could find someone willing to drive you there."

"That's too kind of you, Ducky. Really. But the money isn't a problem. I mean, I can afford it. Thanks anyway. I'll be fine."

Ducky studied the young man's face for a while, and then he sighed, nodding. "All right then. Have a safe ride back home. Be sure to call me the moment you are there, so I don't have to worry."

"I will. Thanks for everything. Despite what I told you before about you-know-what, you have been more than great. I fear to even think how Gibbs would have handled it."

For some reason, Ducky looked guilty, but then he smiled. "Have a safe journey."

Casting a final look around the familiar room, and the familiar faces, Tony offered them a smile of his own and he walked out.

Gibbs was in a bad mood as he left the Director's office. More like furious. Tom Morrow had just given him the ultimatum.

"Sit down, Agent Gibbs," Tom said as soon as the door opened and Gibbs entered the room. Well, crashed through the door was much closer to the truth.

Raising his eyebrow, Gibbs remained standing. "I have things to do, so let's get straight to the point."

Oh, he wasn't going to like it... "I can't let this go on any longer. I was told to give you the ultimatum 'or else'."

Narrowing his eyes, Gibbs crossed his arms over his chest, looking tall and intimidating. "And exactly what is this ultimatum?"

"You need your own team. You can't go running around solo, or keep borrowing other agents and teams. Frankly, while I'm in charge, there won't be anyone going lone wolf anymore."

"I'm doing just fine."

"Gibbs, times are changing. Some people want to get rid of people like you and me. In their words: 'we have to move to the next century'. The only way to ease that in your case would be by taking younger agents into your team. All the other team leaders have been successfully training new agents. Why can't you?"

"Is that your way of telling me we're getting old? I don't need to work with someone who needs constant teaching or watching over. This isn't school anymore. Besides, you and I both know that none of those probies could handle my training and leadership. I don't do any hand holding."

"We are getting old and everyone else has done just fine, training their agents into some of the finest we have. Your problem is that you ask for too much, too soon. Not everyone can become the next Gibbs." What Tom wasn't going to say out loud was that they didn't want or need more people like Gibbs. Not if they came with as much trouble and headache as this one did. Way more trouble than he was worth.

"I can still beat up people much younger than me if I have to. I don't need clones of me either. I work better alone. You know that."

"Don't I know it... I never said you are weak." With a weary sigh, Tom stood up. "Look, Gibbs... The thing is, the world is changing and we are, as some like to say, 'from the last century'. This is the deal now: you will choose your first team member by the end of this month, or I will send someone to you. This is not a debate. They're orders. Surely you still remember how to follow them, Agent? After you have chosen the first one, we will talk about getting another."

"That's not gonna happen!"

"As I told you, this is your ultimatum. Unless you want to end up with someone chosen by me, or worse, by someone else, you better start looking. You're dismissed."

Tom flinched when he heard the door being forcefully opened and then slammed shut. He really didn't need this kind of morning. Usually it meant the whole day was going to be less than pleasant...

Gibbs grumbled and cursed both the Director and SecNav as he stormed down to the bullpen. The agents near him visibly shrunk away from his attention. Seeing the empty working area, Gibbs looked up. "Where's DiNozzo?"

"He, ah... He went somewhere," one Agent said, swallowing hard at the glare that was now directed at him.

Chris Pacci shook his head and said calmly, "He seemed to have a clear mission, wherever he was heading. He had his things with him."

Gibbs nodded curtly and stormed into the elevator. His gut was churning again, and he had a feeling he was running out of time.

Once at home, he wasted no time trying to find his guest, but then in the guest room, on the perfectly made bed, he found a letter, a phone, and neatly folded clothes and boots.

'Gotta go. Here's the phone you gave me. Give the clothes back to Abby.
Try to remember that other people are mere mortals and you'll be fine. Be nice, Agent Gibbs.
—Detective DiNozzo'

Of course he got the hidden message behind the use of 'Detective', instead of just the name alone. Growling, Gibbs dropped the piece of paper on the floor, and left the room. He was about to leave the house, and he already had his hand on the door handle, when he stopped, smelling fresh coffee, which he could swear he hadn't smelled when coming home just a moment ago. Making his way quietly to the kitchen, Gibbs stopped when he saw what was waiting for him. Snorting in amusement, he walked to the coffee maker and saw the note.

'Was my timing right?'

Shaking his head, Gibbs looked once more at the odd timer system Tony had done to his beloved coffee maker. He was going to kill the kid! But first, he had to find him...

Taking out his phone, he barely hesitated before he made the call. "I'm taking time off from work... A month... Yes, it has everything to do with the ultimatum!" Fighting back the urge to roll his eyes, Gibbs finished the call at Tom's, 'keep your phone with you and on, so that—' something. He didn't hear the rest of it. Gibbs smirked, as he could imagine the look on the man's face right now.

Calling the next number, Gibbs had to wait only a moment before it was picked up. "Abby, I'm going—Abby!" Obviously, someone had given her the morning dose of her Caf-Pow. It made him feel slightly less guilty for not visiting her that morning. "I'm going to take time off, and I'm leaving right now, so your next Caf-Pow from me will have to wait... No, I didn't send that... No, you can't yell at Tony right now. He went back to Baltimore—Abbs! There's no reason to get upset. I'm going to bring him back... No, you can tell that to him yourself." He ended the call, hoping the next one would be less of a hassle.

Trying to reach Ducky, he knew his prayers had been answered. "Gerald? Where's Ducky..? No, that's fine. Tell him if he needs me, I'll be in Baltimore." He ended the call just in time to hear Ducky's, 'Is that Jethro?' in the background.

In almost no time, Gibbs had packed up the few things he might need. The rest of the things he could buy. Finding a huge thermos, a gift from Abby, he took the coffee with him on the road. If Tony thought he could get rid of the 'problem', that was Gibbs, then he had better be prepared to deal with that problem face to face.

Chapter Text

As he made his way toward his apartment, the hairs on the back of his neck stood up. When he saw the person standing in front of his door, he almost groaned as he watched Wendy crossing her arms over her chest.

"You have some explaining to do!"

Tony sighed. Well, maybe it was better now than later. "Do you want to come in? We need to talk."

"You're telling me that? Of course we have to talk, DiNozzo!" She was using his last name, which was not a good sign... "You didn't show up or answer your phone. You have no idea what kind of thoughts were running through my mind. I thought you're hurt or even dead. Then I was told you took off to D.C. and I find out you've been kidnapped. You didn't think for once to give me a call? Just what am I to you?" By the end of her speech, her voice had been raising again.

They were obviously starting to attract the attention of his neighbors, so Tony opened the door and pretty much pushed Wendy inside his apartment. Closing the door after him, he said, "Look, I'm sorry and you're right. I should have called you. I forgot my phone, and you know how I can be with the work, but that's not important right now. There's something we have to talk—" Tony was almost knocked over when she jumped on him, kissing and mumbling things like, 'I forgive you.' She hadn't even heard him hiss in pain when she took hold of him in that less than gentle manner, like a lover who was after only one thing.

"Wait." Tony pulled away and a part of him hated himself for doing this, but it would be way too easy to give in. Not to mention unfair when they obviously had no future together. Or maybe this was just the easier way out for him, to protect himself. To protect his own poor little heart. Although, who could blame him? Dream or not, it had made him see things about her and their relationship in a way he hadn't before the coma. He had been blinded by love. Maybe it hadn't even been love, and he'd simply needed to feel loved by someone. And look how well that had turned out... As for her true feelings, he didn't know. "We really should talk first."

Wendy finally looked at him and when she saw the serious look on his face, she nodded slowly.

While Tony bought himself some time—to figure out the right words—by making them coffee in the kitchen, she suddenly said with a quiet, defeated voice, "Danny told you, didn't he? He promised to not tell you, but you are close... I guess I shouldn't be surprised."

"Told me what?" Tony kept his voice and the look on his face neutral.

"About Dylan. It's over and it never meant anything. It's just that you're always working, and I rarely see you. I missed you. And he was always there and..."

Tony felt nothing, although it was strange how things had turned out, as if the universe was trying to tell him something. Better yet, this was making everything almost too easy for him. Wendy looked hurt when Tony couldn't help it and laughed. "I'm sorry. The thing is... What I wanted to talk to you about is that I want to end this. Us. I never thought how easy this would be. I guess I should thank you."

Wendy visibly paled when she realized what she just did. Said. "Wait..."

"We did have a great time, once, even if it was a tad creepy for us to be together in the first place; I can admit that now. Perhaps that's all what it was in the first place? A little excitement between a teacher and her student, which was never meant to last in a real world."

Now that he'd said it out loud, it was also for the first time that Tony realized just how wrong their relationship was. To make things even worse, he'd been that kid without any support system and someone to protect him against the bad things in this world. There had never been any hope for anything better. Not for him, not with his track record. But it was a little too late to feel any regrets now. He almost wished he'd woken up while he was still a child. At least his memories and the mind of a much older man could've protected him from all that and more. Although, could his young mind have been able to deal with this mess in his head, when his twenty-something self almost couldn't?

"That was never the reason, Tony. You know that."

"You could be right, but the fact is, I really can't be sure anymore. I've never had anything I could compare it to. Besides, since you have no trouble sleeping around, and I have truly no feelings about it, those speak for themselves." Tony looked at her with almost pity when it was obvious that she was hurting. He also knew that she would get over it and find someone else. Whether the knowledge was from his dream or it was his gut feeling, didn't matter anymore. "I think you should go home. We both need some time to think."

Nodding mutely, Wendy slowly stood up from where she had ended up sitting when the shock became too much.

"I did care about you." But it still was wrong. He didn't say that out loud, though.

"Tony..."

"Just leave. Please," Tony said quietly and after looking like she wanted to say something more, she finally left. His apartment felt strangely empty, but the weight on his shoulders was less heavy. He stared at the closed door for a while, before shaking his head at the absurd situation—life he had found himself in. The whole thing was bizarre even by his standards.

After calling Ducky with a borrowed phone, he found himself digging out the files that were a little too dangerous to bring with him to where certain people might see them. It was something he had started working on only a few days before he'd been 'Gibbsnapped'. Even when knowing what to look for, it was hard when he had to keep it silent and not have the kind of help he'd like to have. Even so, he wasn't going to ask Gibbs to help him... This was his case and trouble to deal with. If it was proven that reality was indeed copying his dream, then he would hand the case over to the higher authority. Just thinking about the possibility that Danny might be a dirty cop made him feel betrayed all over again, and didn't hurt any less the second time.

Leaving the papers on the kitchen table, Tony made his way to the bathroom. Staring at his reflection in the mirror had become less of an obsession than it had still been a few weeks ago, but it still felt strange seeing his younger self staring back at him. He would most likely only truly get used to it once he would turn forty. Maybe the time would also start moving again, and he would stop feeling so trapped.

Stroking at his stubble covered chin, he chuckled softly. "Better start taking extra good care of my looks and health now." Shaking his head, he left the bathroom. His bed seemed awfully inviting right then, and he wasn't in the mood to try to resist. Thanks to the lack of sleep last night, Tony could barely even hold his eyes open, which was why he fell asleep the moment his head touched the pillow.

He was standing in a white room that could only be a hospital room. As he looked around, he saw several people in the room. Feeling somewhat disoriented at first, it took him a while to recognize them.

"I'm sorry, but you should prepare for the worst. There's nothing else we can do for him."

"You don't know him!" It was Gibbs, looking like a man who hadn't slept, eaten, or taken care of himself in a long time. Anguish was written all over his face, looking older than ever. Even more shocking, however, was to see fear as the most intense emotion constantly present. Being angry was one thing, but this couldn't be his boss. Gibbs didn't allow such emotions to be so wide open for all to see. Such weakness.

"Jethro," Ducky said, looking grim and heartbroken at the same time. "I know you are upset. We all are. But the doctor is right; only a miracle could save our Anthony now."

Walking closer to the bed, Tony saw an older version of himself, head wrapped up and attached to far too many machines. He finally understood the feeling, 'walking over my grave,' as he stared at himself.

"Honestly, you would need a double miracle—" the doctor started.

"You're not helping!" Abby was hysteric, looking up from where she held the sick Tony's pale hand. She wore no makeup, was dressed in pajamas, and her hair was a complete mess. She even wore fluffy slippers that looked dirty.

The doctor looked at them with a pity, and then left the room.

"Jethro, have you heard anything from Anthony's father?"

"He's too 'busy' to come," Gibbs spat, and Tony snorted. The only reason his old man would remember his only son was if the man wanted something.

"What about David and Timothy? Have you had any contact with them yet?"

Gibbs snarled, with a dark look on his face, "I don't care anymore. If her personal business is more important than her dying partner, then perhaps it's time for her to move on. Her biggest mistake was dragging McGee with her. This is going to ruin him for good... Why did this happen? How could I let it happen?"

Ducky squeezed his old friend's shoulder as they watched their younger friend's last moments alive.

"He never woke up, Ducky. I never had the chance to apologize, to try to make things right. He'll never know that he's... That I... To me..."

"I'm sure he knows, Jethro."

Gibbs didn't say anything to that and sat down on the bed. Carefully maneuvering Tony's head to his lap, he was handling it with such care as if it were the most precious and fragile thing on earth. "I know you're mad at me, Tony, but this is too much. Our team is broken, and I'm too old to waste my time with some new agents. Come on now... Show those doctors once more how you can beat the odds set against you." Gibbs let his vulnerable side show as he kept talking, and stroking Tony's face and hair like it wasn't the most unnatural sight.

Breena had her arms wrapped around Jimmy as she tried to comfort her husband, who kept wiping his eyes. "He's my friend. I should've noticed something was wrong."

Tony, who was watching this all with mixed feelings, took a peek in the hallway outside the room, and saw more grim faces. People grieving. There was no way they were all there for him... When he looked back inside the room, he realized how everything was starting to fade away.

As he woke up, for a moment he was confused, and horribly disoriented, but then came the cold feeling all the way to his bones. It had been a while since he dreamed about that 'other life'. This one had truly been almost like watching his own funeral.

"Walking over my grave..." he mumbled and then groaned when he realized he'd been sleeping on his left shoulder. The injured one. Unable to even think about sleeping anymore, Tony abandoned his bed. It was time to go out and get some good coffee.

The coffee in the kitchen remained untouched and forgotten.

Sitting in the coffee shop, Gibbs kept his eyes fixed on the door while he was drinking his coffee. It was his third cup and still no sign of DiNozzo. He'd figured that this place was the man's favorite and knowing how tired he'd been that morning, Gibbs had decided to take the risk and just wait here. There was obviously a big chance that instead of getting coffee, DiNozzo had gone home to sleep.

The door opened again and this time, finally, the young half-Italian entered the busy room.

"Antonio!" the owner welcomed him with a big smile and a hand wave, which Tony returned with a wide grin of his own. "The usual, right?"

"Nah... Give me the other usual and something to eat." Tony nodded and flinched when one of the customers leaving bumped against his left shoulder. Looking around for a place to sit, he spotted Gibbs, who didn't even try to hide, smirking at the bemused look on Tony's face.

"You followed me?" Tony asked, sitting down at Gibbs' table. It didn't take long for the owner to bring Tony his coffee and a huge piece of pie. He was grateful it wasn't a cherry pie.

Gibbs looked with interest, as the coffee obviously wasn't the type of coffee he had seen the young man drink before. Instead, it seemed to be something sweet with a name he couldn't even pronounce.

"You do realize that following me all the way here in Baltimore is kind of creepy? And don't even try to come up with another excuse of a case that is somehow tied up to Baltimore. I did look it up, you know. That case had nothing to do with Baltimore. Just because the victim's old girlfriend lives in here, doesn't give you any reason to drag my ass all the way to D.C. for your own amusement."

"I'm on vacation."

"Vacation. Gibbs, you never..." Tony shook his head. "So why did you choose Baltimore, of all places? I know plenty of places where you could enjoy a sunny beach, some bourbon, and hot chicks. I heard from a friend of mine about a place that has the best-looking redheads and, trust me, he knows the women almost as well as I do." Tony gave Gibbs a look that could only be described as, 'I know what you're up to, so start talking.'

"I followed you," Gibbs said, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

Tony ran a hand over his face. "Why would you do that? Let me set this straight. There is a reason why I came back as soon as I could. I needed some time to think. Alone. Solo. Me. Nobody else."

"Then think. I'm not stopping you."

"You must be enjoying this..." Tony frowned. Gibbs simply gave that half-smirk of his.

Staring and studying the older man before him, Tony finally shook his head and stood up. Digging out the money from his wallet, he left it on the table. "I can't stop you from being here, but stay out of my way. If I find that you're giving me trouble at work, I won't hesitate to arrest you, Agent." Waving his goodbye to the owner, Tony left with his coffee and pie.

Gibbs chuckled and took his time finishing his coffee. He wondered about his next plan and what it needed to be. When he left the shop less than ten minutes later, he walked right in the middle of a drama between a desperate woman and one very uncomfortable looking young Detective.

"I know I've made a huge mistake, but we can't just throw it all away like we're nothing because of it!" the woman cried.

Tony, looking like he wished to be anywhere else, barely even mumbled his answer, "Wendy, there is no we. Did you not listen to me at all? Although what you did gives us every reason to end our relationship, it was not the reason. We simply were not meant to be together. I don't think you want me to spell out the reason, with everyone listening."

Wendy opened her mouth to speak again, only to be interrupted by another voice.

"Female trouble, DiNozzo?" Gibbs wasn't sure whether he should be amused or worried. He, of all people, knew how dangerous an angry or upset woman could be. Just remembering it made his head ache... Cursed ex-wives and their seven irons and baseball bats.

"You could say that."

"Need help?"

"Nah. I've got this."

"You sure?" Gibbs watched as Wendy opened her mouth again.

Tony flinched, and he practically jumped inside Gibbs' car when the man opened the door for him with a smug smile on his face.

It was only after they were driving away that Tony turned to look at Gibbs. "You realize that was not a parking spot? I could get you in trouble for that."

"Yet here you are. Saved by my unlawfulness."

After a few more moments of driving in silence, Tony started feeling uncomfortable. "You can drop me off here."

"I'll take you home. You obviously need your meds and sleep."

He could see what Gibbs was doing. Obviously, with some good old-fashioned police work, the man could find it out anyway, but that didn't mean he was going to let Gibbs know where he lived. Knowing Gibbs, it was practically a full invitation to 'come in and make yourself home.' Then again, it was a full invitation whether he'd let Gibbs find it out from him or not. The man was that much of a bastard. "That's all right. I already had a little nap before, and I can walk."

Gibbs glared and Tony grimaced. Then again, he could let this painfully awkward car ride go on until he opened his mouth or then Gibbs would call Abby or someone to find it out... After this, he'd have to move to a new place again. It was as if moving apartments every once in a while because of his work wasn't enough. He'd have to find a place that even Gibbs and his little minions couldn't locate too easily. He needed it, now more than ever; his own safe place where he wouldn't bring any work partners, no friends, and definitely no women. He could already envision the sign on the door that said with big bold letters, 'NO GIRLS ALLOWED!'

"Turn left here..." he said with resignation.

Gibbs didn't show victory or relief on his face, but truthfully, he couldn't take any longer of this slow driving around. Slow to him.

"What?" Tony asked when they stepped inside his apartment.

"It's small." Gibbs was almost shocked. If there hadn't been a few things like that huge TV and even bigger movie collection in the living room area, a microwave and some fancy coffee maker in the kitchen, he would have thought that this place belonged to someone quite poor.

"It serves its purpose. With my work, I barely get the chance to even come home to sleep. Our workload is much bigger than yours, plus we don't have fancy equipment and all those extra helping hands around. No time for anything else besides work and sleep; sometimes only work. No time for girls either, which in hindsight might be a good thing... Anyway, there's some coffee in the kitchen. Not sure how good it is since it's been there for a while." Tony walked into the kitchen, with Gibbs following closely behind.

"You should sleep. You look like crap."

"That hurts. I look fine. I don't want to sleep, and I'm kind of afraid to deal with another moment of walking over my own grave."

Gibbs raised his eyebrow in question, but said nothing. Instead, he let his eyes wander around one of the tiniest places called 'kitchen' he had ever seen, in his mind making a list of all the things he could see from the first glance alone, like the things needing to be repaired and even some clear dangers for both the general health and even life, until they stopped on the files scattered all over the small kitchen table for two.

Tony tasted the coffee and sighed as he poured it out. "I guess I'll make new coffee. Strong enough so that it pleases your delicate palate."

"I thought you drink the good stuff all the time."

"Doesn't mean I like it. Good stuff? For your information, that's not coffee. That's tar, at best."

Gibbs ignored the commentary. "You bring work home too?"

"What do you mea—?" Tony started and as he turned around, the words died in his mouth. Seeing Gibbs looking through the papers, like it was no one's business, made his blood run cold.

Gibbs looked up, unsurprised, as Tony snatched the files and any remaining papers from the table. "You know, if you need any help..."

"It's nothing. Just some extra homework from one of my cases." The lie came easily and Tony hurried into his bedroom, to hide away the papers before returning to the kitchen, where Gibbs hadn't moved since he left.

"My offer stands if you change your mind."

"Thanks, but I'm pretty sure I can handle this," Tony said it with tightness in his voice, having forgotten for a moment his promise to let the man watch his six. Even knowing what he knew from his dream and what had happened to Danny, he wasn't about to go and ask Gibbs to help him. Not liking the way the man already was sticking his nose into his business, Tony let his pride, of all things, cloud his judgment. He didn't want to be like Ziva and Gibbs, in the dream. His problems were his, and he would not drag anyone down with him. He didn't see that accepting or asking for help were completely different from the actions of those two.

Ignoring his gut feeling, Tony took out two cups for the coffee, unaware that he would have to relearn the importance of having a partner watching his back, and that once Gibbs got something in his head, there was no stopping him. The line between the right and wrong could be very thin indeed. Pride goes before a fall, and all that.

Chapter Text

Frank Raimey—the Major of Baltimore PD—sat nervously behind the table at a one lone diner just outside the Baltimore, chosen by his 'contact'.

"Frank. You're early," the man walking toward the table said. He was tall and looked harmless, but looks could be deceiving, as Frank knew from experience.

"Don't use my name, dumbass," Frank hissed between his teeth, and the man gave him an unapologetic grin. "You know I don't like meeting this way. This better be for a good reason," Frank grumbled, and kept his eyes fixed on the man sitting before him. As much as his little 'side business' with the criminals were fattening his wallet, he wasn't stupid enough to trust them, or turn his back on them, which was why he had chosen the table and chair from where he could keep an eye on anyone coming in or out, or anyone already in there. Not to mention, he never went anywhere unarmed.

"The boss is unhappy," the man said, and threw a short flirting smile toward the waitress old enough to be his mother.

"What's his problem this time?" Frank huffed, because when wasn't there something the old devil wasn't happy about.

"Well, it seems as though there is a curious cat among your men. Too curious. Someone is investigating not only you, but everything involving your little business deals and anyone involved in it."

To his pride, Frank didn't let it show how worried he was. "No one has a clue about anything. I've made sure of it. Besides, even if it does come out, I can guarantee we won't be the ones taking the fall."

"We don't know how good the cover you have built up is, or isn't, but the fact remains that one of your detectives is snooping around where he shouldn't be. You know how the saying goes; curiosity killed the cat. In this case, that's anyone who will endanger our boss and his business. You know how much he hates it when it happens."

"Tell him I'll take care of it." Frank grimaced. He didn't like it, but he would do anything to protect himself.

"He thought you'd say that." The man grinned and brushed a hand through his blond curly hair, which obviously wasn't his natural color.

"So who is it?"

"One Anthony D. DiNozzo. Such a shame. A young pretty boy like him. Clearly good at what he does. Don't kill him yet. First, let's see if he would join us. I saw where he lives. Surely he could use some extra cash."

Of all people... Frank sighed. "You can forget him joining you, Teddy. Hell will freeze first before that stupid kid with his ideals would do something against his morals. He's too good for his own well-being."

"I thought we weren't using names." Teddy laughed at the red face of the man sitting in front of him. "Relax. There is no one here to listen to us. Isn't that right, Dorothy?" He looked at the waitress cleaning the tables. "It's just the three of us."

"My name is Olga and you know it, Theodore," the older woman answered with a heavy accent.

"Could've fooled me. You look like Dorothy to me."

"Like I said, I will deal with it. Tell him that," Frank snapped. He stood up, realizing that he had walked into one of the places owned by the 'boss'. Making sure to be ready for any sneak attacks, he couldn't get away from the place fast enough.

He was standing in front of the door with a heavy heart and as he was about to ring the doorbell, the door opened.

"Tony, man! You're back already. You should've called me and—Oh, right. Your phone. Come on in then. I've got it for you."

Tony followed his partner inside, trying to figure out how to deal with this. Should he do it the same way he had in the dream? That hadn't ended well for Danny...

Danny was searching around in his living room. "I know I put it somewhere in here... Ah!" With a victorious smile on his face, he gave the phone to Tony, who tucked it in his pocket without a word. The smile on Danny's face died a second later as he took in the pained and almost bitter look on Tony's face. "What's wrong? Did something happen?"

"You could say so." Tony started pacing around the room.

"You're scaring me... Did something happen with that Agent? Or is it Wendy?"

Tony barked a laughter. "No. It's not Wendy. We're not together anymore."

"What? Since when?"

"Don't look so surprised. You obviously knew about her little side adventures when I wasn't there. That wasn't the reason for our breakup, though. Although it would've been nice to know sooner."

"Man... Look. I'm really sorry. I knew how much you loved her, and as far as I know, she stopped seeing that guy. I know you must be angry right now, but I only thought what would be best for you."

It was at the tip of his tongue to let the man know exactly what he thought of 'his best', but Tony held his peace. "You're right. I am angry and disappointed in you. But it has nothing to do with Wendy."

Danny looked confused, and taking a swig from the drink in his hand, he sat down on the couch with an uncertain smile on his face. "Well, now I'm worried."

Tony stopped pacing and stared down at his partner with his arms crossed over his chest. "I know, Danny."

The man frowned. "Know what?"

"I mean, I know. I guess you couldn't fight the temptation of easy money, could you? Don't get me wrong, I do understand the temptation and how strong it can be. With our paycheck, it can sometimes get a little hard living a comfortable life. But the fact is, you're a cop and people put their trust in you to keep those scumbags off the streets."

Danny listened with a stony face as he played with the glass he was holding. He looked pale and almost ill.

"I don't know. Maybe it's just me. Am I so stupid that I miss something this important when it's happening right under my nose? Twice. You'd think I would have learned my lesson by now. Why would you do it? Please don't tell me it indeed is just that; the money."

"It is what it is, Tony. You wouldn't understand my position. Sure, you don't use it, but you've got the money. You were given the choice. I don't have it. Never had and never will."

"What's really going on that you need so much money? You're right, I don't use the money I was given, but that's how I've done just fine. I don't live over my needs, and every once in a while I can let myself have something nice." Danny didn't even look at him, which both frustrated and angered him at the same time. "Or is it about something else entirely? Do you like joining the bad guys? The ones we're supposed to lock up, to make the world just a little better."

"It's nothing like that. You wouldn't understand."

"You keep saying that. What is it that you think I wouldn't understand?" Tony softened the look on his face, although it took some effort. "What's really going on? I know there are others involved in this."

"Others?" This time, Danny showed confusion, and somehow that was what finally killed the heat of anger.

"You really don't know..."

The men stared at each other in silence. It felt like after the truth was out, each word was heavy and exhausting.

"So, what are you going to do?" Danny finally asked. "I assume you've got some type of evidence, or we wouldn't be talking."

"24 hours. I will give you 24 hours to turn yourself in, and after that, I will send the evidence forward. I've looked the other way in the past, and I know it never ends well. I can't do it again. I can't leave you just hanging there on your own, until you get in way too deep, and it really is too late."

"Tony... I really can't..."

"24 hours. If it wasn't you, I would have done it already. I'm giving you the chance to redeem yourself before it's too late, and possibly receive a lesser punishment. I will even talk for you in front of the judges if it goes that far. And if you're really in some kind of trouble with money, I will personally use my own money, that money, to help you out. 24 hours, Danny."

Danny stared at the glass in his hands silently before standing up. "I'll... take a walk. I'll think about it. If you're still here by the time I come back, I'll give you my answer then." He finally faced his partner's eyes properly, shame written all over his face. "I'm really sorry. I didn't want this to end like this. It wasn't supposed to go this far."

When the man left, Tony stood by the window and stared after Danny until he couldn't see him. He hated how much this ending reminded him of his dream. Rubbing his left shoulder gently, as a substitute for scratching it, he sat down on the couch. He would wait this time. Full 24 hours if he'd have to.

Much later, still sitting in the living room, the clock on the wall showed that Danny had been gone for nearly an hour. Starting to get both worried and angry, Tony stood up and started pacing around the room again. He truly hoped the man wasn't about to run away or anything. It was starting to get late. "Don't do this, man... Don't run..."

Hearing something, Tony grabbed his gun out of reflex. He had to hold back a groan at the way the sudden move made his shoulder hurt. Hoping that his reflexes were working just fine, Tony pointed his gun at the door. Maybe it was Danny, but in his gut he knew that would not be the case. Slowly, as if trying to see whether it was open or not, the door opened. "You followed me again?" Tony lowered his gun and finally put it away.

"Something like that."

"This must be some strange hobby of yours, Gibbs." It was strange. Although the timing was different and the situation had its differences too, it was like so many times before, watching as the two realities collided. At least he didn't throw up this time; all he got was a passing headache. "I know you don't lock up your door, and you let pretty much anyone just walk in as they please, but I don't think Danny would be too happy to know how you're just marching in like you own the place."

"Saw you come in and your partner leaving an hour ago. Started getting worried that something had happened to you."

"You're actually stalking me. Why would something have happened to me?"

"My gut."

"Is that the reason why I keep running into you?"

"I'm never one to ignore what my gut is telling me, DiNozzo."

"You'd be surprised," Tony mumbled. He hesitated for a moment before asking, "So how much did you read before I stopped you?" He was referring to those files Gibbs had seen in his kitchen.

"Enough to know that this case can become much bigger than you think. My gut agrees with me."

"Is that why you've invaded my couch, for two nights now? So what does your famous gut tell you then?"

Gibbs didn't get the chance to answer as they heard a sudden noise, just barely before the first bullets hit through the window to where they'd been standing. Dropping to the floor for some kind of cover, they both had their weapons out before either had time to even take their next breath, waiting for the shooting to stop long enough to make their own move.

Gibbs was crouching behind the bookcase, which he had at some point moved enough from the wall to give him a temporary hiding place and a small cover. He looked to where Tony had stood, letting out a breath of relief when he saw him crouched down behind the couch. He then frowned when he saw the look of pain. After a moment of observing, he realized it had to be the shoulder with the bullet wound, which he hoped wouldn't give them any trouble. Once more, he cursed the stubborn man for not wearing his sling either.

Tony looked at Gibbs, and when he got the man's attention, he held up his gun and pointed toward the window where the shots had come from. It was suddenly dangerously silent, with no way to tell where the enemy was now, or how close. Gibbs was surprised how easily he could understand the message. Nodding his head in agreement, he started half-crawling toward the window, with Tony following him closely behind. They had barely even peeked outside the window, when the shooting started again.

"You doing okay, DiNozzo?" Gibbs asked, and then he flinched, seeing how another bullet barely missed Tony. They were lucky that those shooters obviously didn't know how to handle their weapons. By now, the whole neighborhood had to be awake.

"Terrific," Tony answered tersely, and as he started getting tired of staying low because of some invisible shooter, he saw the look on the older man's face. Nodding his answer to the unsaid question, he crawled to the backdoor with Gibbs. It was hard with his other arm out of the job. Opening the door, they were prepared to face another shooter, and their suspicions were confirmed almost immediately. They were surrounded.

"On the count of three?" Tony asked, but Gibbs simply dashed outside, avoiding bullets as if his bad knee wasn't giving him any trouble at all, while Tony covered for him. Although he was no sniper and his left shoulder was giving him a hard time, every shot of his was accurate and soon enough there was heard a cry of pain from somewhere in the darkness. The moment Gibbs was safely outside in a much better place for cover, and where he could see the surrounding area, covering for Tony, he made sure the other man made it to his own spot farther away.

Suddenly the shooting stopped again, and it was almost deadly silent, if not for the dogs barking and the crying baby. Both of those sounds were a reminder of where they were.

Tony pointed with his head toward the barely visible trashcans in the dark alley. Gibbs answered to it by simply aiming there with his weapon, since he had the best chance of hitting the 'target'. Sure enough, as soon as he fired his gun, another cry of pain was heard, and they heard someone crashing against those trashcans. It was soon followed by the sound of several police cars finally arriving on the scene.

A young police officer shook his head, looking at Danny's place, which was now looking more like a Swiss cheese than a place to live. "How on earth did this happen?"

"You tell me. Have you seen or heard from Danny?" Tony asked. Now that the whole thing was over, he was starting to wish for some painkillers.

"No, I haven't. Should I?"

"I'm really getting worried now..." Tony murmured, turning toward Gibbs, who had somehow managed to find himself coffee. "I haven't heard from him since he left for a walk, and he left his phone home. Some guys show up to most likely kill him, and he is still gone. I really don't like this."

A sound of a long whistle was heard as another, much older, Detective stepped over the broken glass on the floor. "Someone sure brought the big guns with them. I think this is where people use the word overkill."

"They sure did. Sorry if this ruined your plans for tonight, Mark."

"Oh, who needs sleep. Right?" Mark smirked. "My wife is going to kill me, though. Our daughter is visiting us with her husband and our first grandchild."

"Ouch. I'm so sorry... Hey, have you heard anything from Danny?"

"Not since he left work few hours ago. Why? Did something happen? Other than someone murdering his home."

"I don't know. And that's the thing; I haven't heard from him since he went for a walk. Sure, he's a cop and hopefully armed, but... I hope we won't end up finding his dead body. Our dead guys are not going to be much help either, with their generic prison tattoos, and looking like the kind of men you'd want to hire to take someone out for you."

"There were two of them?" Mark asked and watched as their people finished their job inside the house.

"Three or four as far as the shooting goes," Gibbs answered.

"Who is this?" Mark looked from Gibbs to Tony.

"He's my bo... He's Agent Gibbs from NCIS." Tony had nearly bitten his tongue off when he almost called Gibbs his boss.

"NCIS? I suspect there's a story there, but for another time... Detective Mark Walter Booker." Mark held out his hand for Gibbs to shake, but when he was ignored by the Agent, he let his hand fall. Giving his young colleague a questioning look, he got an apologetic shrug from Tony.

Gibbs seemingly didn't even blink his eye, but his unhappy frown was telling. It was obvious that he wanted to bark out his usual orders and do things his own way. Tony was amused by how Gibbs kept fidgeting, and impressed how the man had a surprising amount of self-control for not trying to bark his orders around. Then again, perhaps Gibbs knew if he'd do that, Mark would simply laugh in his face and then cuff him outside the crime scene, if he really started giving them trouble. Gut feelings and all.

"This reminds me of the Hitchcock movie The Birds," Tony muttered when they finally stepped outside in the dark and creepy atmosphere, as a huge crowd of birds flew out of nowhere, barely missing their heads.

"Don't jinx us," Mark said nervously, even as his eyes were twitching and moving around almost frantically. He was known for having a small fear of those creatures. Owls being the worst of them all. 'Creatures from hell', he called them.

Walking back to his car, Tony kept running the events of the night in his head over and over again, trying to think if he had missed something. He came back with nothing. When he sat inside his car, he couldn't miss the taped note against the steering wheel. Knowing for sure that he had locked the car doors, Tony felt wary as he slowly took the note. There was an address written down to it and a short but very telling message.

'Do you care about what happens to your partner?'

"What have you gotten yourself into, Danny..?" Turning the note over, he saw another message; even more ominous than the first one.

'Curiosity killed the cat.'

Was he meant to be the cat? Or Danny? Well, in that case, it was good that cats had nine lives... Although, how many of those had he already used, without counting his dream?

There was knocking against his car window on the other side. Tucking the note away quickly in the safety of his pocket, Tony reached over and unlocked the door.

"You telling me what's on your mind, DiNozzo, or do I have to become a mind reader as well?" Gibbs asked as he sat next to him.

"Why are you trying so hard to make this into your case, Gibbs? Can't you simply stop avoiding the subject and just tell me what you want? You know, this reminds me of something. How did it go... Oh yeah, I'm sick of you playing games with me. Now start talking. Does that sound familiar?"

Gibbs grimaced. Using his best glare, which Tony faced without so much as blinking an eye, he agreed, "You're right."

"I am?" Tony faked his shock.

"Don't make me repeat myself, DiNozzo. You're right. I should have said this while you were still in D.C. Maybe even sooner. I want you to come back with me."

"Back to where?"

Gibbs looked annoyed. "Back to D.C.. I'm asking you to work with me. I don't trust many to watch my six." 

"Aww. Isn't that sweet. You want me to be your partner," Tony cooed, which ended with a rather gentle head-slap. "Hey. My head is still not in top condition, you know."

The older man looked somewhat startled by that. "You still have plenty of those waiting for you, though."

Tony rubbed the back of his head. "You're a cruel man. I thought you wanted me to come with you."

"You coming then?"

"I'm honored that you want me, of all people, to watch your six, the invincible Gibbs, but the answer is no."

"DiNozzo..."

"The thing is, I have a good reason to not go back in there. Things you couldn't possibly understand. I'm protecting myself. Figured it was about time... You're a good man, Gibbs, but that's not always enough. Sometimes even the good men get lost on their way."

Gibbs looked confused by the cryptic answer. "You know I'm not about to give up."

"I know that. Like I said, you're like a fox in a henhouse. Worst-case scenario, you'll just keep trying to find excuses for me to be thrown into your loving care."

"You can bet your ass on that one, DiNozzo."

When Tony kept rubbing his shoulder, Gibbs said, "You have two options. Either get in my car and I drive us back home, or I'll drive yours."

"In your dreams. I'm not leaving my baby here, and there's no way I'm handing her over to you."

"Ducky knows you're driving around with your car already? With your current condition and all. Does he know you're not using your sling? Again."

"That's playing dirty, Gibbs... Fine. But if you kill her, there'll be a heavy price to pay," Tony muttered as they switched places. Just to get a little payback, Tony decided to press that one button he knew would make the older man snap. "So, I heard the FBI is looking for new young agents—"

"No!" Gibbs growled.

Chapter Text

His heartbeats sounded too loud in his ears, and he was almost sure it was going to wake up the man sleeping in the living room. Not going to take any chances, Tony quietly opened his bedroom window and climbed out. He was grateful he only lived on the second floor. Even if he fell down, he'd hardly die from it. Maybe. Although, he had to admit that this wasn't as easy as it looked on TV, and with only one arm. He was pretty sure James Bond would have succeeded without his arms or legs.

Focus! he commanded himself when he almost fell down, his muscles protesting the sudden movement. He nearly whimpered at the sharp, burning pain, which faded away much too slowly for his comfort.

"You all right there, Tony?" his next-door neighbor asked curiously as she looked out from her window. It should maybe worry him that his neighbors were used to him doing crazy things like using his window as a door. He was no Spider-Man, so it was something of a miracle he was yet to get seriously hurt during one of his many stunts. Then again, his 'not seriously hurt' was pretty much the same as his 'I'm fine'.

Wishing Gibbs would not wake up from any of this, he wheezed out, "Just fine, Mrs. Hayden. Good night and don't worry. Make sure your door is locked."

The moment his feet touched the steady ground, Tony didn't stay to kiss it, although he very nearly did. Instead, he ran to his car, with the note almost burning a hole in his pocket.

It was dark and quiet, but Tony wasn't fooled as he stepped inside the dark diner with his gun out. Another few steps, and the room was bathing in a sudden bright light, blinding him for a moment. It was a moment too long as he felt someone hitting the weapon from his hand with a painful smack that left his fingers tingling.

"Tony!" It was Danny's voice. At least his partner was still alive. When he was finally able to see again, Tony was horrified when he saw Danny, tied up to a chair, with a ticking bomb attached to him.

"Well. Isn't this a touching moment for all of us? He does care," a man said. He looked like he was thirty-something. As far as Tony could see, he was the only bad guy there, but even if that was the case, he wasn't about to think they were that 'lucky'. If nothing else, then the bomb was the very definition of unlucky.

"Tony, I'm so sorry. I didn't know this would happen. I swear, I wasn't going to get you involved in my mess," Danny blabbered nervously.

"Danny, it's not—"

"He thinks this is about him. Why don't we explain the situation to him, Anthony. What do you think?"

"Who are you?" Tony turned to look at the man who had his gun.

"I suppose that it's only fair. You can call me Teddy."

Right... Tony snorted. "What do you want from us?"

"It's simple, actually. You really should've kept your nose in your own business. My boss is very unhappy and wants you gone."

Danny became more agitated, and sweating, as he stared at the timer over his chest. "Tony... man..."

Tony could barely keep his eyes off his partner, but the steady hand with the gun made sure that most of his focus was given to this Teddy guy who kept talking without a care in the world.

"I've been watching you for a while, Anthony, and I hope we can come to an agreement. You're being wasted as a cop. If you join us, you could have way more money than whatever is left of this job once you've retired. If you even make it that far. You could buy yourself a nice little house to live in, instead of that small little dump."

"I've sent men like you to both prison and hell long enough to know not to make a deal with you. Now get that thing off of him!" Tony was about to lose what was left of his self-control. There was barely a little over a minute left, and the man just kept talking. Did he have a death wish?

"What's the rush?" Teddy patted Danny's chin affectionately, and then he walked toward Tony. "Last chance to change your mind. No? Well, don't say I didn't warn you... Once you do change your mind, which you will, I'm sure you'll be able to find me. If not, I'll find you."

Before Tony realized, Teddy grabbed his hurt shoulder and squeezed, making him fall on his knees in deep, agonizing pain that turned everything dark. "I hope you're not too attached to that old fool."

"...ony! Tony!" Danny's voice brought Tony's mind back to focus, and he forced his shaky feet to take him to his partner. Seeing the time, all he could do was swear as it went down to zero.

There was nothing. They were alive and nothing had happened. No flesh and bone tearing explosions, not even a concussion. In Tony's case, not another concussion.

"It's not real." Tony let out a breath of relief as he quickly got rid of the 'bomb' and untied his partner, feeling faint and sick to his stomach.

Danny's voice shook slightly when he was finally able to speak again. "I thought I was going to die. I really thought that this was it. This isn't anywhere near as cool as they make it look in the movies."

"Yeah, well... We both almost did die and..." Tony paused with a frown. "Technically, we did."

After that, they couldn't have made it away from that place fast enough, which was why Tony barely even noticed and picked up his gun from the floor.

The car drive was almost too silent. Danny kept turning his head toward his partner, to say something, but he always changed his mind. Finally, he said, "I've been thinking about what you said to me. Of course, my near-death experience was also kind of an eye-opener... You're right. We're supposed to keep the streets clean from people like that lunatic."

Tony didn't say anything. He wasn't even sure what to say.

"I'll do it... I'll turn myself in."

"That's all I wanted to hear." Tony smiled sadly.

"Right now, however, all I want and need is some sleep in my own bed."

Tony's smile turned into a grimace. "Yeah, about that... We have a little problem."

"Problem?"

"It might be better if you come to my place for now..."

"I still don't get it," Danny started as they parked near the building where Tony's apartment was. "Why go through all the trouble and in the end not even do anything?"

Making sure the car doors were locked, and even double-checking them, Tony frowned and stopped to think about that again. He'd been wondering about that same thing, once his head was fully functioning again. "I don't know yet, but it sure wasn't for nothing."

"Hey, you could give a call to your navy guy. Maybe he could help. He did practically kidnap you and made you work for them. What do you think? Tony?"

Tony had gone pale as it all suddenly clicked, and then he took off running, not hearing anything but the beating of his heart. There was a faint taste of blood in his mouth. "Not this, not this!"

While he was still running, there was a sudden explosion, blowing up about one third of the building, and for sure, his entire apartment. Although he was too far to get seriously hurt, he was still thrown back when the explosion went off. Getting on his shaky feet, the pain was the last thing on his mind as he ran toward the burning building and would've made it inside, but he was stopped by Danny. On a normal day, that wouldn't have been enough to hold him there, but right now he was trapped in another time and place, when another explosion went off with Gibbs in there and almost dying. He remembered how everything had changed after it, for good. How close they—he—had been to losing him. Then he was thrown back to the present, and it felt as if there was a cold fist around his heart as he stared at the hot flames where his living room window was.

"No!" Forcing his way into freedom, Tony ran toward the flames. "Boss!"

Chapter Text

He ran like a madman. Only a moment ago, he had seen the car disappear under water with Gibbs and that girl in it. He barely registered the two dead guys behind him as he threw away his gun. If someone would later ask him what he was thinking then, he wouldn't have any answer to give. Did he realize that his lungs should—could—not handle this? Nothing mattered. Not all those times when he got nothing but indifference from his boss. Not the cold words and looks. Not all the times he wasn't even head-slapped anymore, and when he was, it was harder than it used to be. Without even a pretense of fondness behind the already violent act.

Jumping in the freezing cold water, he barely even remembered to take a deep breath before diving. All he knew was that he had to save them. Had to save his... his boss. When he finally saw the car and those piercing blue eyes, he knew that his own life didn't matter. The reason he even existed had to be because of him. For Gibbs. He'd do anything for him.

He didn't feel the burning heat of the fire as he ran. He didn't hear any voices; there were no sounds in his world right now. He only saw the angry flames as he jumped to dive in, but he was stopped by something. That invisible force had an iron grip on him and started slowly pulling him away from the flames. Didn't matter how much he fought back. "Let me go! He's in there!" he demanded hoarsely.

Something hit the back of his head hard, and with that, it was as if he was thrown back into the world of sounds and pain. "Snap out of it, DiNozzo!"

Still in a slight daze, Tony blinked his eyes and stared wonderingly at the man looking at him with confusion and concern. "Gibbs?"

Furrowing his brows, Gibbs looked at the Detective. He still held Tony's arms with a strong grip and there would surely be huge bruises by tomorrow, but even with the healing wound, Tony was stronger than he looked, and Gibbs had to use all of his Marine strength he could muster out of himself to stop the idiot from running to a certain death. "What is wrong with you!" He was worried, but he knew he sounded angry. Tony only stared at him with a blank expression on his pale face.

There was confusion in Tony's voice when he said, "But you were... I thought... you died."

"Well, someone disappeared in the middle of the night, so I went out to look for you." Gibbs almost expected to see embarrassment or maybe even some smartass comment, but instead, Tony just kept staring at him with those glassy eyes. "Do I have to hit your head again?"

"Get your hands off me." The low voice startled Gibbs, and although he still hesitated, he let go.

With some heavy choice of words, Tony turned around and walked away from the scene with long, angry steps. He was stopped again, this time by Danny, but he pushed away the hand on his arm and kept going, leaving his bemused partner staring after him. A moment later found Tony sitting on a park bench where he could barely hear the first ambulance and fire truck driving toward the building. He didn't have to see it to know there wouldn't be left enough to save it. Or at least not enough for it to be worth the trouble.

It had happened so easily, as if it was written down in his DNA or something. 'Save Gibbs and his unthankful ass, even if it means you'll end up in a body bag.' It seemed that as far as the dream went, nothing had changed in the real world. Tony rubbed his head with a sigh and grimaced when pain shot through his head like a bullet. "Seems like that's going to be your fate one day, whether you like it or not, Anthony."

"You talking to yourself now, DiNozzo?"

Giving the older man a sideways glance, Tony shrugged. "Not losing my mind, if that's what you're thinking."

Sitting next to him, Gibbs stared at the young couple kissing farther away, though he wasn't really seeing them. Seeing how Tony kept rubbing his head made him feel almost guilty for slapping the head of someone who was still recovering from a concussion. Almost. "You gonna explain to me what you were trying to do, running in that building?"

"Not like I haven't done that before," Tony mumbled with a haunted look of someone who had seen too much.

Gibbs raised his eyebrows. "Something I should know?"

"It's my fault. It's my fault this happened."

"What happened?" Gibbs finally asked when no answer was forthcoming.

It took Tony a moment to decide before he finally gave up with a suffering sigh.

"When we left Danny's place... There was a note in my car for me." Ignoring the scowl he got from Gibbs, Tony took out the note and gave it to the man. Too deep in his thoughts, he didn't notice how it disappeared in the man's own pocket. "I wasn't going to put anyone else in danger and I don't exactly trust anyone at work right now, but I didn't have any time to waste. So I waited... As soon as you fell asleep, I left. I found Danny tied up, with a bomb." He swallowed, pushing away the memory for now. "There was this guy... It was his words that made me realize you were supposed to die in that explosion. As some sort of warning, I guess. As if that bomb strapped to my partner wasn't enough. Thank God it wasn't real, or he and I would both be nothing but bloody pieces." Tony avoided looking at Gibbs, knowing what kind of look he would see if he did. "You really should go home, Gibbs. It's not your problem, and I don't want you to get involved in our problems."

"Not my problem?" Gibbs growled. "Not my problem, when you just said that I was meant to die?"

Frowning, Tony turned to look at the man. There was that familiar glint in the older man's eyes, which made him almost visibly shiver. Gibbs was ready to murder the bad guy. He sure didn't want to be the one the former Marine was mad at. Again. This time. He hoped he wasn't the one. Although he knew that there was no use trying to talk the man out of stalking him around, Tony was willing to push his luck further. "That's the very reason you have to leave, Gibbs. Before you get even more involved. I don't want to explain to Ducky and Abby how you ended up dead because of me. Your little goth girl already has something against me."

"DiNozzo..."

"I know it was stupid of me to do stuff like that in the first place, with no backup and all. My gut told me it would not end well had I called my boss. What matters is that none of us ended up dead."

"DiNozzo!"

"What?"

Gibbs gave him his infamous glare. Even worse, he was positively seething.

"Shutting up." Tony flinched at his meek and almost submissive tone. He had barely stopped himself from adding, 'boss.'

"If you had let me come as your backup, we might've gotten the bastard who did all this. Had this guy wanted you and your partner dead, you would be. So you better start listening to me now."

Not looking at Gibbs, Tony rolled his eyes, feeling almost petulant and not in a mood for any lectures from Gibbs.

"DiNozzo!"

"I'm listening." Again, that meek way of responding. Tony cursed inwardly.

"Never do anything so foolish, with no backup, ever again. I'm starting to wonder how you got your badge if you do things like this."

Tony flinched at the words. Of all things to hit him with... He answered without thinking, "Like you're one to talk."

"You said something?" Gibbs narrowed his eyes.

"Oh, I don't know. I've heard how you go running into dangerous situations, with no backup, all the time. A true lone wolf," Tony said with bitterness. Several moments like that came to his mind. Dream or not, it was obvious that this Gibbs was no different in that regard, and he had heard how the man did some one-man Marine gone crazy stunts. It was now obvious that just like in the dream, Gibbs could do whatever he pleased, but if someone else did the same... He was indeed, 'do as I tell you and not as I do,' man.

"What's your problem with me, DiNozzo? I mean, really, what is it?" Gibbs snapped and Tony found himself getting lost once again in another time, another place.

"What's your problem, DiNozzo?!" Gibbs demanded as soon as the elevator stopped moving. He looked at the younger man, who showed no emotions and had arms crossed over his chest in a defensive manner.

Tony didn't look at his boss. He couldn't. Maybe because he felt betrayed, once again. Or maybe it was because of the very public stripping down Gibbs had given to him in the bullpen. Or maybe it was the fact that once again this man—his sort of father figure and the man he used to look up to so much—had gone on his own without any backup on some one-man mission, and almost got killed. Both he and the girl. Or maybe it was this new case with the little child. Or maybe it was something completely different. It wasn't like he wanted some public attaboy from his boss. Just a simple, ' thanks' or ' good work,' when no one else was looking would have been enough for him. Instead, they kept going on with their daily lives as if nothing had happened. Well, almost.

"DiNozzo!"

"Look, Gibbs... Can we not do this now?" Tony finally said. His voice was hoarse, and he hoped, prayed, that he would not start coughing in front of Gibbs. If he did, he would not be able to stop it anytime soon. He'd most likely be blamed for trying to gain some pity points for rescuing the man and the girl Gibbs had supposedly been protecting.

"I asked, what is your problem!" Gibbs hit his fist against the wall and Tony flinched at the booming sound. "If you defy my orders like that ever again, I might find the need to start looking for another Senior Field Agent!"

With his mouth sealed, Tony refrained from saying a few chosen words himself. He knew, he hoped, Gibbs didn't mean what he said. This case was hard on everyone, as was the nature of any case involving children. "I hope you're not punishing me for going after you and Maddie, Gibbs. I did save you two."

Gibbs refused to meet his eyes, but that did seem to take some of the wind out of his sails. "If you're expecting me to thank you..."

Yeah, boss, that would actually be kind of nice. If not for you, then for the poor girl you almost got killed because of your stubborn pride, or who knows what else... Tony said that to the man in his head only. He didn't have the energy to keep feeding the fire, not now. Not while that energy was needed elsewhere. "Not talking about that. I'm only saying that I hope you're not mad at me for fixing what should have never happened in the first place. And it's you who has a problem with me. I wasn't treating you like some probie in front of the entire bullpen."

"DiNozzo..."

"I don't expect you to be all of a sudden the perfect boss or anything. I know you're a bastard and you're not going to change, so I'm not asking for it. You should, however, at least try to respect me as your SFA in front of the other people. That's all I'm asking. If you don't, why would they?"

The only reply he got was a grunt, a sideways glance and a long silence. "Let's get back to work."

Knowing that those words, and the almost gentle hand against the back of his head, were the best kind of 'apology' he'd get, ever, Tony sighed and decided to forget the whole thing. The work was more important. There was no time for any personal feelings. He made his voice sound lighthearted. "I bet probie and Ziva are starting to wonder whether you finally killed me and are about to hide the body."

Gibbs had a lopsided smile on his face, shaking his head almost fondly. Four hours later, he took off again. When he returned, Tony said nothing and Gibbs didn't look him in the eye.

"Let's just say that I don't trust easily," Tony finally answered, seeing the almost frustrated look on Gibbs' face.

Opening his mouth to speak, Gibbs scowled in irritation when he was interrupted.

"Let me make this short. Very short, believe it or not." Choosing his words carefully, Tony started talking in almost monotone voice, or else he'd end up talking with a little too much 'passion'. "I once had a hard time trusting people. Whenever I did put my trust in someone, they would betray me. Partner, fiancée, friends, family... All of them. One way or another, they would always find a way to do it. Then I met this old Marine bastard who always watched my six. He became closer to me than anyone else had ever been. He made me trust someone again. For a very short while, it was all too perfect to be true."

Then things started to turn sour after Kate joined them. When she died and Ziva came... Well, things went from the occasional bad moments to downright cruel and dangerous. Messed up wasn't strong enough expression.

"But if it seems too good to be true, it usually isn't. Without a reason that I was ever aware of, he suddenly turned his back on me. He became cruel, and I was singled out. So now, here you are, one old Marine bastard who, for some reason, tries to force himself into my life. When I walked away from those people in my past, I promised myself to never again trust anyone. It was the lesson I learned the hard way. If you can't trust for anyone to watch your back, it makes no difference whether I take some backup with me or not. I may have learned to do a few stupid things, but I'm good at what I do, and not that easy to kill. I knew what I signed up for when I decided to become a cop. I know I can die any day, any moment, and I'm fine with it. I made my peace with that possibility a long time ago. I may be a dead man walking, but I'm prepared to face the death when the time comes. The only thing that matters is that I do my work to the best of my ability. There are people who count on me. I could be one of those people, had I not decided to become a cop."

"You done?"

"Yeah, I'm done—" Tony yelped and rubbed the back of his head. Gibbs didn't hold back now that he had gotten the sweet taste of it, but it would be nice to not get another concussion so soon. "What was that for!"

"Never," Gibbs started, holding his finger up. He looked pissed off. "Never talk like that again. I don't know who has gotten such thoughts into your head, but never think your life isn't just as important as one of the victims'. For that reason, it's worth even more. If you end up dead, then it's also at the cost of someone else's life because you weren't there. Whoever made you think that running around with no backup is such a good idea, is the biggest fool I've heard of in a long time. Rule 5: 'you don't waste good.'"

For a moment, Tony did feel like he was twenty-seven, instead of that forty-something. He stared at Gibbs, and then he snorted. Of all people, to say those things to him, and then to add the Rule 5. Man, it hurt.

"Hey!" Gibbs barked.

"Sorry. It's just that... You have no idea." Tony snickered and started imagining Gibbs meeting his dream self. 'Hey, Gibbs. Meet Gibbs. Try not to kill each other.' It would be epic... and possibly scary, but there would be no way he'd want to miss seeing the outcome. "Oh, you really have no idea."

"You think? If you don't stop doing that, I'm going to end up in ER for injuring my hand if I have to keep slapping your head."

The head-slaps. There would be twice the amount... Tony kept snickering, even though the very thought of that made his head hurt. Oh, right, his head did hurt... He rubbed his head with a sigh. "Sorry. I was just imagining you meeting him. You know, the other Marine guy. It's never going to happen, but the end result would not be pretty. Knowing you two, it would probably end with a World War or something. Like in the movie—"

"He's that much of a bastard?"

"Oh, he's so much worse. Let's just say it would be like you meeting yourself."

There was an unreadable expression on the older man's face, and then his eyes narrowed. It couldn't be about that, could it? All this because of some dream? No... No one would be holding such a massive grudge against anyone because of a dream. Right? Gibbs raised his eyebrows when Tony, who was obviously deep in his own thoughts, kept snickering and smiling like a fool, and then at times frowning, only to get that stupid smile on his face again. His fingers were itching for a slap again, but he wasn't about to be the reason for another concussion. Not so soon.

"Come on, let's go... It's cold outside and we both need some real sleep. Tomorrow we will look into all of this with fresh minds." Gibbs made it clear that he wasn't going to stay out of this.

Tony stared, as he hesitated before saying, "Gibbs... Would you think I'm crazy if I told you..?"

"If you told me what?" Gibbs asked, hopefully. He knew that look and tone. He had seen and heard it before, down at the morgue, right before Tony told Ducky about that dream of his. To his great disappointment, Tony shook his head.

"Never mind. It's nothing."

Gibbs was then almost shocked to see it for a first time happen like this, right before his eyes. One moment, Tony was looking down at his hands on his lap, with an almost anguished expression. Then, between his next two breaths, he looked up, looking almost like a completely different man, smiling, with a slightly mischievous glint in his eyes, as if that previous look hadn't been there in the first place.

"So, I wonder what Danny thinks right now. I pretty much just took off after trying to barbecue myself and almost gave him a black eye. He's already thinking I've lost my mind, so this had to be the icing on the cake." Standing up, Tony took few steps away from the bench, but then he stopped. Without looking at the man following him like a shadow, he prayed for strength for what he was about to do. "I can't trust you and I can't do what you want, but... I'll think about it." He hoped Gibbs understood the message behind those words.

As he kept walking, Tony didn't have to see it to know there was a smug smile on the older man's face.

Chapter Text

Returning to the scene, Gibbs walked farther away to make a phone call. Far enough so he couldn't be heard, but where he could still see Tony, who was making his way to where Danny stood looking frustrated.

"Tony!" Danny put away his phone. "I've been trying to call you."

Tony waved his good hand uncertainly. "Hey, man. Listen. I'm sorry how I... When you tried... You know."

"It's cool." Danny smiled awkwardly. "I was starting to wonder if I should start calling for help since you were gone for a pretty long time and didn't pick up your phone," Danny finally said.

"Battery is dead."

"Oh." Danny nodded, fidgeting. He finally gave up and turned his back on Gibbs, who kept staring at them with that piercing look of his.

Leaning against his car, Tony watched as the firemen tried to put out the fire. Seeing an ambulance driving past them with the sirens on, he realized something. "Hey... Did—did anyone get hurt?" Or die... He felt sick for only now realizing that there were others besides Gibbs.

Danny looked at him. "Few died and some are badly injured... The rest have surprisingly only minor injuries."

Closing his eyes, Tony took a few deep breaths. "It's my—"

"This happened because I got in way too deep without even knowing, and you found out. You were right, man. We are supposed to try to keep things like these from happening. I forgot who I was and now look at what happened. I'm the one who let all these people down. Their deaths, injuries and loss are on me, Tony. Not you. Me."

He knew he could easily let his partner blame himself, but even if he did have a small part in it, Tony knew better. Not just from his dream, but from the evidence he had managed to gather so far. Frank Raimey was the bigger fish here and by the looks of things, this thing was starting to be far bigger than it seemed at first glance. He couldn't help but wonder if it had been that way in his dream as well. Ducky was right; he had to stop letting his messed up head, mixed with anger, control his actions. He had to start thinking like a cop again. Before anyone else ended up dead or hurt. "I think you should know something. It's about Frank..."

While the detectives were talking, Gibbs took out his phone. Oh, how he hated himself for having to do this, but he wasn't going to let Tony go and do anything on his own again. He had to wait a long time for the man he was calling to pick up his phone. Ignoring the angry, "What kind of time is this to call a working man who needs his sleep," he said, "I need a favor..."

Meanwhile, observing the action going on from farther away, was Teddy. Smoking his cigar, he almost looked like your classic villain if you ignored the hair. Sitting on the roof of someone's car, he watched the building burn. Even from there, he could feel the heat. It was a thing of beauty.

His boss was not going to be happy with him. Not only did he not kill the threat, but he also failed at killing the one man he actually had been trying to kill. But then he'd also seen something interesting. Having observed Anthony, and by extension the older man with him, Teddy had been so sure that they weren't close, but now, after the Detective had tried to run to his own death for that man... Not even his own partner with a bomb strapped on had gotten such a strong reaction. He had no idea what type of relationship those two shared. They didn't seem to be getting along at all, and yet, the older man followed the younger around like some watchdog, and the Detective would lose his mind the moment something bad happened to the other man.

Watching another police car drive past him, Teddy felt growing disdain. All these people and no one even noticed him? All those cops and not one of them saw anything off about him. He might've as well walked around carrying a bomb, and they would've still walked past him. He was feeling irritated until his eyes landed on the three people standing away from everyone else. He felt that familiar excitement fill him again when Anthony's eyes spotted him. Grinning, he waved his hand. His mood improved greatly.

He had just finished talking about the evidence he had against their boss, when Tony felt someone's eyes on him. Someone other than Gibbs. He turned around sharply, and there, in the darkness, he could barely see a man sitting on a car. Call it his gut feeling or whatever, but he knew without even seeing who it was. Of course, the ugly blond hair against the dark background helped. Like a beacon designed to stand out and lure the unsuspecting, or the foolish, into a trap.

"Tony?" Danny stared as his partner took off running. It didn't take long for him and Gibbs to follow.

Ignoring the pain that shot through his shoulder, Tony used his arms to gain more speed. Being much faster than the other two could ever hope to be, Tony made it to the man who was now standing next to the car, smoking and not in a hurry to go anywhere.

"You have some nerve," Tony hissed under his breath while pointing his gun at the man, who looked far too amused for his own good.

"You're not going to kill me."

"Give me one reason why I wouldn't! Shockingly, I can't think of any!"

"You won't kill me because there's still too much of naive morality in you, and after I left your gun on the floor, did you take time to check it? I would imagine with all the excitement today, you forgot. It's empty."

Tony aimed the gun at Teddy's left shoulder to shoot him, only to realize the man had told him the truth. Of course, he should've known just from the weight alone... Cursing inwardly, Tony took one step back when there was suddenly a fully loaded gun pointed at him.

"Relax. I don't want you dead. I need you."

"I'm not joining you."

Teddy chuckled and pushed the gun hard against the left shoulder, making Tony involuntarily wince as things went dark. Only for a second, but that was all Teddy needed. When he was able to focus again, the man was gone, and both Gibbs and Danny had finally made it to him.

"What happened?" Danny asked, gasping for his breath.

"Teddy," Tony said, and his partner paled.

"Who?" Gibbs asked, looking around and trying to spot whatever had made Tony run there like that.

"The slimeball who kidnapped Danny and tried to kill you."

"Calls himself Teddy and for some reason he wants Tony to—"

Tony interrupted before Danny went on to say more than he wanted Gibbs to know, yet. Not when he was already feeling more than a little uncomfortable with the whole situation. "How did he kidnap you in the first place?" He eyed his partner curiously.

Danny looked ashamed. "It was embarrassing. Got distracted by a pretty woman and the next thing I know I'm waking up in that place."

Seeing the look on Gibbs' face, Tony decided to compromise and give part of the truth. "Seems that both Danny's and our boss' case links directly to Teddy's boss. Whoever that is. I'm supposed to stay away from investigating even further, but I already know too much. There's no way I'm going to close my eyes and walk away." Looking at Gibbs, Tony grinned cheekily. "I suppose we should go and find some place to sleep or get you some coffee, before you start going through withdrawal and committing murder."

Gibbs' reply was to throw a pointed glare at Tony, which made Danny shift nervously, but the cocky looking partner of his only grinned wider.

"Coffee it is, then." Tony chuckled. He knew he was stepping on a dangerous path, to be even considering NCIS and working with Gibbs 'again'. Maybe he'd give it a couple of years and then move on, which was something he should've done the 'first time'. It would've been the smart thing to do. Somehow he'd forgotten, but many of his old quirks and habits had been born as a coping mechanism. Things that not only worked, but they had also turned out to be useful. Such as his movies. Or the type of clothes he wore. And why he never stayed in one place for too long, always on the run. Somehow, somewhere, it had all gotten so twisted up, or he'd just forgotten about it. He should have left after those two years. And he really should have run screaming by the time Gibbs returned from his 'hiatus'.

Ah, Rota. What kind of fool turned that down? Tony shook his head out of the depressing thoughts, and so many regrets.

As they walked back toward his car, Tony walked few steps behind them. The previous laughter in his eyes and smile on his face were gone, as if someone had put the lights out. It was always too easy to take on a certain role, and he was automatically starting to assume his role as Anthony DiNozzo, the goofball. "You never learn, do you?" He didn't realize he spoke out loud until he saw Danny looking at him over his shoulder. Grinning, Tony shrugged and kept walking. With his good hand holding his hurt one still, he stared at the back of one Special Agent. The older man's whole posture was tense for some reason. Looking over his shoulder, Tony thought he saw someone watching him again, but when he looked closer, he saw no one. He must be getting paranoid, not that anyone could fault him for that... Even so, he felt safer when his fingers brushed over one of the hidden knives of his. He should get another gun soon. Lord knew in what condition his backup gun was in that apartment of his...

Danny shifted in his sleep restlessly before he continued his snoring. No doubt, the poor guy went through the traumatizing events of the day—or night—in his dreams.

Once again, making sure his weapon was in perfect shooting condition, Tony went back to polishing one of the knives. He'd been sharpening a couple of them earlier, which had made Danny nervous, but Gibbs merely raised his eyebrows before disappearing somewhere. Most likely to find some 'real' coffee to satisfy his 'delicate' needs. Seeing the first rays of sun from the cheap motel room window, Tony held back another yawn. He had felt it to be pointless trying to get any sleep with only few hours left of the night, so here he was. Sitting on his bed, ready to jump on anyone trying to kill him or those with him.

As he held the now overly shiny knife against the light, Tony was thrown back in the many memories from his dream again. By now he was used to it, so he simply went back to polishing his knives, letting the memories wash over him like it was the most normal thing to happen.

"You do realize I can kill you—"

Tony finished the sentence with an eye roll. "Using nothing but paper clips. I think we got the memo years ago, Ziva."

For a moment, the Israeli stopped playing with the knife she was holding in her hands as she stared at him. Putting it down, she stood up and sashayed to Tony's desk, like a wild beast moving toward her prey. With both her palms against the desk, she leaned over him. "I was saying, I do not like how you left me deal with that disturbed woman."

"Distressed, Ziva. The poor woman was distressed. And you know very well I needed to go to the bathroom. Since we could not leave our witness without protection and there was no one else around, and I am your boss whenever Gibbs isn't around, that meant you were the only option. It's called following orders and doing your job."

Narrowing her eyes, she smiled dangerously. "Ah. So you are telling me it wasn't for revenge?"

Looking up from his paperwork, Tony finally looked the woman in the eye with a blank look. He knew it irritated her to no end how, after all this time, she was still not able to read him. "Revenge for what? Are you referring to some specific moment? You should know by now that my kind of revenge is using superglue or something much more creative. Unlike some people, I can be professional while doing my work." His unsaid accusation didn't go unnoticed by the Israeli, who was at this point looking like she'd want to straight-out strangle him. Thank God they were in the middle of the bullpen or who knows what might have happened. Remembering several other moments where they had been alone, which usually ended up with him getting hurt, Tony had to fight to not show how much he hated having this woman towering over him. Inwardly, he laughed. Anthony DiNozzo, the ladies man, was scared to death by some woman. Okay, maybe not to death, but he did feel uneasy whenever he had to deal with Ziva alone.

"I'm talking about the little joke McGee and I did. You can be such a child sometimes, Tony."

Making a show of putting down the papers he'd been reading with a dramatic sigh, Tony leaned back in his chair and raised his feet on the desk. Taking out a doughnut, his first proper meal that day, he started eating while talking with a calm voice between the bites, "And I was laughing. It was the joke of the year. Why wouldn't anyone laugh when your partners leave you without a backup? It was so funny."

"It's been weeks now. Will you stop sulking?"

An older Agent walked past them, looking at Tony worriedly and asking without using the words whether he needed some help. Tony returned the gaze and during those few seconds they held a conversation, which was almost as good as it used to be between him and Gibbs. Turning his attention back to Ziva, Tony put down his half-eaten doughnut.

"We have gone through a couple of hard cases, and you only notice how I'm not in a happy mood. Should I be worried? I mean, Gibbs has been more of a bastard than usual, McGreen has looked rather ill lately, and Abby is in a funeral mood. You know I don't mean that in a good way. Even Ducky hasn't been sharing his stories with us for a couple of days now, and yet it's me you're focusing on instead of solving the case. Don't get me wrong, I am feeling flattered." Tony flashed his trademark grin and waggled his eyebrows.

Leaning farther over the desk, Ziva almost purred as she was about to say something, but Tony didn't miss the dangerous glint in her eyes. Hell would freeze over before he would date this woman.

"I would rather have you put all that extra attention and energy on the case instead of harassing me, miss David. Unless you want Gibbs to kill both of us."

Ziva's eyes narrowed, and Tony didn't miss that for a split second her eyes spotted the paper clip on one of the papers on his desk.

"If you two have time to flirt, you have time to solve the case."

When had Gibbs and McGee returned? Tony blinked out of his half-daze. Moving his feet off the desk, he went back to reading the papers. "On it, boss," he said and didn't look up when Ziva returned to her own desk, with a muttered, "Yes, Gibbs".

He didn't have to look up to know that his boss was standing behind him; his looming presence was all too obvious. "Rule 12, I know it, boss." Not that it is any of your business, he added in his head. Contrary to popular belief, he knew better than to even try anything meaningless with someone he worked this closely with. It was already hard enough at days such as these without any added stress, and it was always easier to not have to see the women he used to date if it, for some reason, didn't work out and ended badly.

"Good," was Gibbs' grunted reply before he returned to his own chair.

Tony smiled at the steaming hot coffee he now saw on his desk, and he took the mug with a nod of thanks to Gibbs. 

"Tony!" It was Ziva's angry voice as she desperately tried to pull her superglued knife off her desk.

As they all turned their accusing eyes on him, Tony had the most innocent look on his face and shrugged. "Wasn't me. You saw it, Ziva. I was sitting here the whole time when that could have happened."

"I know it was you! I don't know how, but it was you!"

"Back to work! All of you!" Gibbs barked. For a moment, there was heard angry muttering in Hebrew before silence took over their working area.

Taking a sip of the coffee, which was exactly the kind he liked, Tony hid his smile behind the papers. When no one saw, he winked at that older Agent walking by again, who had a grin of his own. The man held out a tube of superglue for Tony to see, and he had to hold back a laugh. Not even Gibbs understood how good it was to get allies among the least noticed people, the ones many looked down on as insignificant. At the end of the day, they were the most useful, the ones who more often than not made things work, so that the 'big guys' could do their jobs and look good, and not someone with a high fancy degree in his pocket. After Tony nodded his thanks, both men went back to their work, leaving a furious Mossad woman trying to get her knife off the desk every few minutes, only to stop at Gibbs' barked orders.

Looking up, with a smile still on his face, Tony said, "Hey, boss. I think our witness is lying to us. Big time. Think Mount Everest."

Back in present time, Tony wasn't smiling. The next day, the tires of his car had been slashed, and he didn't even have to start looking for the culprit. The overly smug grin on Ziva's face had been a clue enough. When women wanted revenge, it was rarely pretty, but with Ziva in question, he had been lucky it was his car that had been stabbed.

Pausing his polishing, Tony frowned. What if she was just as real as Gibbs was? Would he meet her also? Squeezing the knife in his hand, another face appeared in his mind; Kate. What about her? As much as she had been able to cut deep with her words and behavior sometimes... He had actually liked her. Most of the time. She was like that annoying older sister he never wanted, but wouldn't trade away if he could. Or the girl next-door you grew up with and couldn't help but tease, and she would be one who would fight dirty to not lose in that game. Very dirty.

Another realization hit him as he stood up and walked over to the window. Had the sunrise always looked so beautiful? "Fate has a nasty way of popping up and waggling its long, bony finger under your nose. Sometimes it's a squeaker at 70 miles an hour. Sometimes it's a plane you missed that never makes it back from the Bermuda Triangle. But whatever it is, you always get the message: It's time to stop taking your good luck for granted. It's from Magnum P.I., Gibbs. But of course you have no idea what I'm talking about." Tony chuckled, turning around to face Gibbs, who had entered the room with two mugs of steaming hot coffee.

Raising his eyebrow, Gibbs shrugged and handed the other mug to Tony.

"No coffee for Danny?"

"He's sleeping. Doesn't need it."

Shaking his head, Tony turned his face back toward the sunrise. "I've been thinking. I've now been in Baltimore for a couple of years... Might be time for me to move to someplace new."

"You afraid of something?" Walking next to Tony, Gibbs glanced at him with that half-smile on his face. He wasn't expecting to get a straight and honest answer, so he was surprised when Tony spoke again.

"Yeah. I'm kind of afraid to put my trust in anyone right now."

"Hey, whatever happened in your past, I will watch your six." Gibbs knew he meant every word, and hoped that he was given a chance to prove it.

Tony smiled sadly. "I know you will watch it, Gibbs. But sometimes bad things hit us when we least expect it, and someone or something comes along and destroys everything. You may not have a choice but to leave me without the safety of a partner watching my back."

"It won't happen. I won't let that happen," Gibbs promised, and lowered his voice when Danny let out a distressed sound in his sleep. "There's no way I will endanger the life of anyone working with me, DiNozzo." As much as Gibbs tried to show how much he meant what he said, that sad smile didn't disappear. He could only wonder what had happened to put that look on his face. Looking at the young man, who looked more like a college kid than a man, a mere few years from turning thirty, Gibbs was once again surprised when he looked into those eyes. They were the eyes of a much older man. Then there were also those rare moments when there was something childlike about them, and times when there was nothing but pure emptiness, like a body without a soul residing in it. Never the eyes of a young man, though. It was yet another puzzling thing to ponder about.

Right now, there was a faraway look in Tony's eyes, and Gibbs realized that the man might not have even heard his last words to him. Delivering a soft head-slap, like it was second nature, Gibbs stared as Tony blinked slowly. "I said, I will be watching your six. Are you listening to me, DiNozzo?"

There was a flash of pain in the too bright green eyes, before it was transformed into a brilliant smile. "Yeah. I'm listening, boss."

Chapter Text

It was strange to be here, even now. Ever since the coma, each time he entered the Baltimore PD, it felt as if he were undercover, which in a way he was. No matter how unreal his other life had been, he was playing the part of his 'past' self. He was the actor on the stage, but then, he'd been playing different roles since his childhood. Sometimes he wasn't even sure who he really was.

Sitting behind his desk, Tony stared at the pile of unfinished paperwork and cursed Gibbs for kidnapping him in the middle of his work. Or maybe he should be grateful. Few people liked doing paperwork, which had to be the most mind-numbing thing a man had ever invented. While he pondered over the meaning of life that was a slave to a system that slew men with boredom and paper cuts, Gibbs made a beeline for the coffee, like the addict that he was. All it took was one taste, and the coffee went among the trash. It was a mystery why he bothered tasting it if he already knew the coffee wasn't up to his high standards. Looking around the room, Tony saw people staring at him curiously. It could be because he was back so soon after his latest calamity. Or maybe it was the smell of smoke on him, and they had heard what had happened to his apartment. Or perhaps it was the white envelope, which he held.

"Hey, Tony. Good to have you back, kid."

"Morning, Mark." Tony smiled, and the old Detective frowned as he took a closer look at him, and then the white envelope between Tony's fingers.

"Tony..." he started.

With an overly bright tone, Tony said, "Guess what. Agent Gibbs offered me a job, and I accepted."

"Is that so?" Giving the Agent his deadly glare, Mark received an equally evil look from the man.

"Try to behave, you two." Tony grinned as he stood up, holding his arm, which was now in an almost too tight sling. All thanks to a certain bastard...

Tony was ready to leave the motel room, while Danny seemed somewhat reluctant and hadn't said another word besides, 'morning,' when he woke up, looking subdued. He was getting more nervous and depressed the closer the time came to keep his promise. When Tony picked up his last knife, Gibbs looked satisfied, knowing that rule 9 wouldn't be an issue, but he frowned when he saw the tight lines of pain that Tony had a hard time covering up. "Sit down."

"Why?" Tony was confused when Gibbs disappeared from the room without an explanation. He sat down with a sigh. When Gibbs returned, he was carrying a piece of fabric with him; a scarf, maybe. Tony frowned when he realized what the man was going to do with it. "I really don't need..."

Gibbs merely glared at him before he started making a makeshift sling for the arm. "It's either this or I'll drag your ass to the nearest hospital and make you stay there until you can't do more damage."

"Gibbs..."

"Or then I can let you go through Ducky's tirade about how to take care of yourself. Trust me, you don't want to go through that."

Tony grimaced and then flinched as Gibbs finished wrapping up his arm nice and tight. "It's too tight."

"Good."

Forcing the smile to stay on his face, Tony removed something from his desk, holding it close to his chest with the envelope.

"Where's Danny?" Mark asked, remembering Tony's worry.

The question made his smile disappear and Tony leaned closer to whisper, knowing he could trust the man, but he wasn't so sure about the rest of the room, "He went to turn himself in."

"What?" Mark frowned.

"Please, Mark... He made a mistake, and now he's paying for it. Can you look after him for me if he remains in the area?"

The old Detective smiled for a bit, if uncertainly. "Of course. Tony... Watch your back. Frank has something against you today."

Tony grimaced. "I see... Thanks. Where is he anyway?"

"Stormed into his office as soon as he came to work and hasn't left ever since."

Nodding his thanks, Tony left, feeling a heavy burden over his shoulders as he walked toward the room. He wondered if the man already knew he was being investigated. Maybe not, as it was still early in the morning. Not even that many cops had come to work yet.

As soon as Tony was out of earshot, Mark turned to glare at the old Marine. "You watch that kid's back or I will personally hunt your ass down. You got that, Agent?"

Gibbs felt the corners of his mouth twitch, and he covered the beginning of a smile with a yawn. It was still early in the morning. His only answer to the Detective was to raise his eyebrow incredulously.

Meanwhile, Frank Raimey sat behind his desk in his office, holding his head between his hands, wondering what he should do now. Everything had gone wrong ever since his meeting with Teddy. Those useless men he had hired to take care of the problem had failed, and then he got a call that Danny had turned himself in. Of all things... And now even the FBI was involved. Sooner or later, the investigation would find him, he was sure of it. As if all that wasn't enough, the 'boss' was sending threats to him with those men of his. Walking free or in jail, he knew he was a dead man. He had no other options...

Hearing the door open and someone entering the room, Frank looked up and narrowed his eyes as he looked at the young Detective. "DiNozzo. I was wondering when you would show up."

"As you well know, I'm on sick leave," Tony answered with a blank stare of his own. Stepping forward, he dropped an envelope and his mighty mouse stapler on the desk. "My resignation. Effective immediately. Where I am going, I'm not going to need any reminders, so you can keep that." He pointed at the stapler.

"I won't accept it, DiNozzo." If the man left, then there would be no way for him to keep an eye on him.

"I didn't ask for your opinion or permission. I know, Frank. They know. Soon everyone will know. Teddy came to me. I handed over the evidence to the right people, and you're going down hard. Should something happen to me or Danny, or those close to us, you will be one of the first people anyone will suspect." Tony cast one last look at Frank, who now looked pale. "You're just a dirty cop. It's so... disappointing."

When Tony made his way to the door, Frank laughed bitterly. "You're playing a dangerous game, DiNozzo. These people are not something you can win against." As Tony turned to look at him, Frank shook his head. "You're right; I'm in way too deep, but you still don't know half of it, and it's best if you let things be. Stop digging around. Leave and never look back." He hesitated. "Watch your back."

Tony looked at the man for the last time before leaving the room. He had nothing more to say to his former boss.

As the door closed, Frank took out his wallet and then a photograph, gazing at the picture of his loved ones. Next, he took out his gun. There really was no other way. With a gun in one hand and the picture in the other, he went through the big moments in his life, the good and then all the bad ever since he went to the 'dark side', as his former Detective would have put it. Although he took his sweet time making that final decision, there was no hesitation when he finally put the gun barrel in his mouth.

Outside, walking back toward the room where both Gibbs and Mark were waiting, Tony stopped and leaned against the wall. He needed a moment before facing Gibbs and his need to know everything about him again. Few officers walking past him looked at him with sympathy. He probably looked like he could fall asleep while still standing on his feet, which was a feeling they would know all too well.

They all looked up when they heard a gunfire, coming from Frank's office. Tony swore and he, among the few officers, ran back to the room. Opening the door, they froze, seeing the bloody scene. Tony watched it happen like in a dream—a nightmare—as Mark pushed past them and went to check for the pulse. No one was surprised to see the headshake.

Turning around, Tony left the room and kept walking until he was outside, sitting in his car. That's where Gibbs found him.

Standing outside the car, Gibbs observed his new Agent. Of course, he still had to clear that one with his Director, but he wouldn't be known for his 'second b for bastard' if he didn't get the man to accept Tony. Opening the car door, Gibbs sat inside, waiting, and hoping, for the man to speak.

"You know, it's funny. You try your best doing the right thing, and then... What's the point?" Looking up, Tony leaned his head against the car seat. There were unshed tears in his eyes. "This makes me wonder if I can't do even one thing right. If I can only mess things up so badly that when one person doesn't end up hurt or dead, someone else will." Hitting his good hand against the steering wheel, Tony turned to look at his new boss.

"He pulled the trigger. It was a choice he made," Gibbs said quietly, and put his hand against the back of the young man's head. In his mind, he cursed the choice Raimey had made, seeing how hard the kid took it. Closing his eyes, Tony nodded slowly. "His choice."

"I know," Tony finally said, irritated, as he turned his head to look at Gibbs, who gave him the look, 'oh really?'. Tony shook his head and ran his good hand over his face. "No... It may have been his choice, but it could have as well been those people pulling the trigger."

"Teddy." Gibbs guessed, and Tony nodded.

"He told me to watch my back... Those will be his last words." He sighed when Gibbs didn't say anything or remove his hand. "Now what?"

"Coffee," was Gibbs' one-worded answer as he got out of the car and Tony snorted, following him. With no sleep and after such a morning as this, they'd need all the coffee they could get. Neither noticed the man looking at them in the shadows or when he turned around and left.

Abandoning his police uniform in a trashcan, Teddy walked to the car waiting for him and took out his phone as he kept his eyes on the now former Detective and the man walking with him. "It's me. Tell the boss that Frank couldn't handle the pressure and took care of our problem himself." While listening to the other person talking, Teddy smiled as he saw Anthony going to that favorite coffee shop of his. "Yes. I'm looking at him right now. Tell the boss he'll have guests coming."

Inside the coffee shop, Tony felt a shiver run through his body and an unpleasant feeling in his gut that made him glance uneasily over his shoulder.

"DiNozzo?" Gibbs looked at Tony questionably as he finished paying for their coffee.

"Nothing. Just... You know. Gut feeling or something."

"What is it about?" When Tony hesitated, Gibbs guessed, "That Teddy guy?"

"I think so."

"We'll figure it out," Gibbs said it as a matter of fact, before it turned into a glare. "Together."

"Wouldn't think otherwise, boss." Tony smiled weakly and took his coffee as they left the place, walking side by side.

Chapter Text

Death was rarely pretty. The most ideal way to die would be when you're old and in the comfort of your own bed, surrounded by your loved ones, with a peace of mind, acceptance, and understanding that, 'this is it. It's my time. No regrets. I've lived a good life and I wouldn't trade it for anything. I've done my part, and finally I will get some rest.' There was nothing pretty or peaceful about the bloody body of Frank Raimey; the way his unseeing eyes stared at him with accusation and anger.

Tony stood farther away, watching as the people in the room worked with the scene as they would with any other crime scene, any other body. Having seen more than enough, he finally turned away, and walked straight into Gibbs.

"You okay?" Gibbs worried, but covered it up with his usual gruff tone of voice.

"I've seen crime scenes worse than this. I'll be fine. Let's go." Tony's face was perfectly neutral as he walked away past the onlookers.

Gibbs turned around to see the body himself. Unlike Tony, he felt angry. Finding the body would've been bad enough, but to leave such a gruesome scene for people who had known him... Never mind what this was doing to Tony, who was eaten by unnecessary guilt. Shaking his head, Gibbs hurried after Tony, who was at his desk.

"Need some help with that, kid?" Mark asked, watching as Tony put in the small box the few things he wanted to take with him. The old Detective looked like he had aged ten years, but he offered a small smile.

"Can't wait to get rid of me, huh?" Tony teased.

"Hey, now. We're losing our star player, and I'm losing a good student. How can I be happy?"

"I was a prankster way before I met you. You know it, old man."

"Your favorite kind of pranks involve superglue," Mark growled, but there was a playful glint in his eyes. 

Tony grinned, but then he frowned. What if everything from his dream would happen in real life? He could still remember that phone call... He barely left the work for a week after the funeral, and even then it was only after Gibbs had threatened to fire him if he didn't go home to sleep.

"Hey, Rachel! How's Mark?"

"Anthony... Tony, he's dead..."

"Tony?" Mark worried.

Tony shook his head. "Sorry... Did you say something?"

"You spaced out. I thought you were past doing that." By that, Mark meant all those moments for about a month after Tony woke up from the coma where he would space out in the middle of a conversation, which was why he hadn't been allowed to work 'outside' for a while. Much to Tony's annoyance. "Hey, kid," Mark said. "Rachel and I... You know she loves you like one of her own. If you ever need someone to talk to or a place to escape to... You know where to find us."

"I sure do. Thanks, Mark." Tony smiled, thinking about the woman who kept trying to feed him whenever she saw him. She was almost as bad as Ducky when it came to his health and diet. "Say hi to your wife when you get home and... Do me a favor, old man."

Rolling his eyes, Mark smiled. Only Tony got away with calling him an old man. "Anything. As long as it doesn't involve giving your superglue a chance because that's not going to happen."

"No. Not that. It's about your fishing trips. I know how much you love and need those times alone. Just... Promise me to find someone to go with you. Don't go alone. Ever."

"Kid..."

"Promise me. I don't like you being on your own in a place like that, with no other people around when you might need some help or..."

"All right."

Tony wanted to say more, but by then, Gibbs started to get impatient. "DiNozzo! You done yet?!" he growled. He stood at the door, looking rather grumpy.

"Gotta go. Don't want to piss off the bear." Tony rolled his eyes, not one bit scared by Gibbs' worsening mood. If anything, he was amused.

"Call me. Maybe even visit me and Rachel. You haven't seen our grandchild yet."

"Of course." Tony put down the box and wrapped his good arm around the old Detective. Before the older man had time to return the awkward hug, Tony took his box and hurried away.

Later on, the entire Baltimore PD cursed the name of one Anthony D. DiNozzo for a week when they were plagued by pranks involving superglue. Although there was no evidence of who did it, everyone knew the culprit. Mark was the only one who laughed and even made copies of some of the best reactions, caught by their security cameras, and one of the copies found a way to Tony's mailbox.

Entering the mansion, Teddy could feel the heated glares from the men standing on guard. His only response to them was to grin widely and keep walking. He was the outsider, the plain old American. Not one drop of blood in him was Italian, as far as he knew. He didn't look like one or speak the language, other than a few clumsy phrases and words, so he couldn't even pretend to be Italian. Yet here he was, the boss' right-hand man.

"Teo," Paolo, one of the boss' sons, murmured disdainfully when they met on the way. His twin brother didn't say anything, didn't even glance at Teddy. None of them were happy about this, but he refused to even speak to him. He was bitter, angry, and made it no secret.

"Paolo." Teddy had to hide his smirk, since he wasn't about to start another fight so soon. Not when he needed the old man's blessing more than ever. It was incredible how much the man trusted him, how a man like Angelo seemed to be completely oblivious to just how much everyone else in the family hated Teddy. Perhaps the man really was getting too old, which only made things easier. Old fool. "How's the boss doing?" He enjoyed the look of fury at his use of casual tone when talking about 'the boss'.

"Watch your—"

"Teo!"

Teddy turned around and smiled widely at the old man walking toward them. "Boss. It's good to see you."

"You are early." If the heavy accent wasn't enough, then the way the man looked was a complete giveaway. He was the very image of an Italian male. 

"I am trying, boss." Teddy let the old man lead him to his own private room. The man even went so far as letting him sit down in the big armchair next to his own.

"So, tell me..." Angelo started.

"His name is Anthony D. DiNozzo Junior; although I don't know what the D stands for. He is half-Italian and I believe he does speak the language, and possibly others as well. He is—was a Detective here in Baltimore, but he quit today after some guy offered him a job. I don't know where, yet. I've watched him for a while now and I'm sure he's the right choice." Teddy took out a small photograph he had taken of Tony and gave it to the old man. It was hard to tell what the man was thinking, but he had a positive feeling about this, so he kept talking. "He is very much against joining us, but I have ways to make him more agreeable. Plus, he's still young. Twenty-seven. Just a kid, really. It'll be easier to mold him into the kind of man we need." Angelo had been brushing his thumb over the picture with an almost gentle look in his eyes, but at this, he stopped and looked up sharply. Teddy cursed inwardly. "I meant, the kind of man you need, boss."

Angelo moved his gaze back to the picture. "I am sure you know who he looks like, Teo." He sounded calm, but there was a dangerous undertone to it.

"Yes, I am aware of that. Believe me, it was not the reason I chose him." Not the only reason, but he knew better than to say that. "I'll admit that his looks were what first caught my interest, which was why I looked into him, but it really is just an amazing coincidence."

His boss gave him a long, hard stare. "If you let me down, you know what the price is."

"I know."

There was a long silence, which was broken only by the sound of the fire dancing in the fireplace.

"Bring him in."

"Thank you," Teddy said, and stood up when Angelo did, and he watched as the man walked away.

"Do not let me down, Theodore." The man never called him by the full name. This was serious business, and Teddy knew he was gambling by bringing in Anthony DiNozzo.

As he was about to leave, Teddy realized that the old man had taken the photo with him, and he smiled. It was worth it. Had to be. He didn't believe in God or anything else, but right now he thanked his luck for literally running into the young Detective about a year ago. It almost disappointed him that the man didn't even remember him.

It was pouring rain from the heavens, but he didn't really mind. If anything, the heavy rain was better than a shower, washing away the blood and any remaining evidence of what he had done. He never thought he would go this far when he first started working his way up the 'food chain' to become the right-hand man to Arcangelo Voltolini, the mafia boss whose name was known by a very few people. But to murder a man for the old bastard was better than anything else he could do. The most exciting discovery had been how easy taking another life was. Who would've known when he started to worm his way in that he would end up selling his very soul. He was almost there. So close... There was something more he had to do that would fill the missing gap. It would be so much easier had he been born Italian. He cursed his parents for failing him.

Pulling the hood of his jacket over his head, Teddy started jogging. It was dark and still raining, so he didn't notice the dark figure running toward him. The moment they noticed one another, it was too late, and they collided.

"Oh man... Like I didn't already have a concussion... Just perfect... Sorry. You all right?"

Teddy let the young man help him up, and he couldn't help but notice his face, even if it was a little hard to see behind the heavy curtain of rain. Thankfully, he had good eyes, and the streetlights helped. That face, those eyes; he knew he had seen that same face before.

"Hello? Anybody home?" The man grinned when Teddy finally nodded, still staring. "Good. Sorry, but I can't stay chatting. I'm kind of in the middle of a work right now."

Teddy grabbed the man's arm as he was about to leave. "Wait. What's your name?"

"My name?" The man looked confused, and then he hesitated, looking suspicious. "It's Alan. Look, I really have to go now. Take care, man." Then he left, running again.

Ever since that day, he'd been watching him. As soon as he found him first, of course, which was not easy. After that, he learned everything he could without letting himself be known. He found out that his real name was Anthony, not Alan, and that he was a cop. The universe had a weird sense of humor. Then the day came when he was going to approach him with his offer, only to find out the young Detective had ended up in a hospital. He nearly missed his chance again when Anthony disappeared, only to reappear with that old man in tow.

Walking to his car, Teddy took out his gun and smiled pleasantly. It was time. The boss wasn't known for his patience. He was running out of time, and it was now or never, before Anthony disappeared again.

Stopping his car, Tony waited for Gibbs to get out. They were back at Danny's place, where Gibbs' own car still was.

"DiNozzo. I'm telling you this again; leave the car in Baltimore and get it back later. You can't drive all the way there with only one arm."

"Watch me."

"DiNozzo..."

"Look, not everyone drives the way you do. I can drive just fine with one good arm. I'm not going to crash or anything. I will not leave my baby here again, and I will not let you drive her either."

"What's wrong with the way I drive?" Gibbs growled.

"Never said anything was wrong with the way you drive." Tony gave the man his big wide eyes of innocence.

"Ducky will have my head for this."

"Not if you don't tell him."

"He's going to find out."

"Not if you don't tell him."

"He'll know when he realizes both our cars are in the city."

"I'll figure out something if he finds out. If."

Gibbs looked like he was going to start tearing his hair out. "Stop being so stubborn and listen to me for a change!"

"So, who did you call?" Tony asked smoothly.

"Don't change the subject."

"What will happen to Danny? I mean, I hope it was worth it to bring in the FBI. Are you sure they'll help?"

"He'll be fine. Obviously, they can't completely overlook what he did, and some cases will have to be reopened, but he'll be fine. No jail time."

Tony let out a breath he hadn't noticed he'd been holding. For a cop to end up in jail, even a dirty one, was the worst possible thing to happen, so it had been his biggest fear. "Thank you."

"Don't mention." Gibbs had that half-smile of his and an understanding look in his eyes.

"So. When will I meet this guy? This friend of yours."

Gibbs growled something under his breath. It was obvious that, after Tony's 'threat' to join the FBI, he wasn't fond of the idea of letting them meet.

"Go to your car, Gibbs. We'll get you some coffee first and maybe something to eat for our long drive. You can go crazy Marine on me later. Right now, I really would much rather hit the road already."

Gibbs looked like he'd argue some more, but changed his mind and walked toward his own car, after one last pointed glare.

"He can glare all he wants..." Tony muttered and rubbed his left arm. It was both hurting and itchy to the point where he wanted to either weep or scream. Or punch someone, usually Gibbs. The sling really didn't seem to help either, and so he kept 'losing' it whenever he could.

While he waited for Gibbs to drive past him, Tony kept tapping his fingers impatiently against the steering wheel of his car. Did the man have trouble with the car, or why did it take so long? Finally getting out of his car and locking it up, just in case, Tony went toward where he assumed Gibbs would be when suddenly he knew. Without really thinking about it, he took out his gun and turned around.

"I wouldn't do that."

"Teddy." Tony stared at the man in front of him, standing behind Gibbs with an awfully big gun firmly against the older man's head. It would leave a really big mess, Tony realized, and then winced. He didn't need that mental image. Especially after what happened to his boss. The former. "He has nothing to do with this. Let him go."

"DiNozzo..." Gibbs growled.

"See, that's where you're wrong, Anthony. Now, be a good boy and put your gun on the ground and then kick it here. No tricks, both of you. I might accidentally pull the trigger. We wouldn't want that."

Seething in anger, Tony carefully dropped his gun and kicked it toward Teddy, who barely even looked at it as he somehow managed to pick it up while still holding his own gun against Gibbs.

"Now, your knives. I believe there were five of them."

Tony took out his hidden knives and dropped them on the ground one by one, trying to buy them some time. It was no use. The steady hand holding the gun was a hand that was used to pulling the trigger. Looking into those eyes, Tony couldn't help but think that this guy had more than a few screws loose. You didn't reason with someone like that.

"Good. Very good. Now turn around. Good. You see that car over there? The blue one. Start walking, and no funny business."

Trying his very best to think of a way for both him and Gibbs—or at least for Gibbs—to get away, Tony found no other option but to do as he was told, for now. He could hear the other two following him.

"Open the door. See those handcuffs on the seat? Take them."

Tony gave Teddy his blank stare, then nearly flinched as the gun was pressed harder against Gibbs' head. The older man himself didn't look too impressed. With calmness he didn't feel, Tony picked up the handcuffs, already able to guess what he had to do with them, and he didn't like it.

"Good. Now, come out and handcuff your friend. No tricks. Both hands behind his back and make sure they're nice and tight. I'll be watching." There was an almost predator's look in Teddy's eyes. "Perfect. Now get in the driver's seat. You're driving. Your friend and I will take the back seat."

Looking Gibbs in the eye, Tony could see that the older man was over his limits, prepared to snap someone's neck, or die trying. However, with the gun still firmly there in the hands of a man who had no trouble murdering innocent people, they couldn't take any chances. Not yet. Tony shook his head and Gibbs sighed, getting in the car when he was pushed.

Once they were on the road, Tony berated himself for not taking this guy more seriously before.

Chapter Text

The massive house looked intimidating. His big childhood home was nothing next to this palace. Not that he'd spent too much of his time at home, with all the different boarding schools and other places his father would send him to. All of that before he'd been disowned.

"Step out of the car and keep your hands where I can see them."

Snapping out of his reverie, Tony got out of the car, the other two joining him soon after. He could almost hear Gibbs' grumbling, but he knew it was only his imagination. Some things you didn't need to hear or see, to know what Gibbs did, or wanted to do.

"Keep moving."

The moment they entered the building, they were faced with stern-looking men. For a moment Tony could only blink, stunned. It was almost as if he'd stepped right into The Godfather movie. The only thing missing was the theme song. He had to fight against the sudden urge to start humming the theme song. "Seriously? You don't look like a mafia gangster." And he didn't. Teddy was like oil trying to mix with water.

Ignoring the comment, Teddy's pushed Gibbs into the hands of one of the men in there, who looked even more unhappy then, but didn't say anything. "Make sure he doesn't do anything stupid."

"What is this, Teo? Why are these people here?" It was a woman's voice.

As Tony turned around, he saw an older woman who held herself with graceful dignity. You didn't see many women like that around anymore. Clearly, time had only done wonders for her classic Italian looks. She was also very much taken, if the man holding his hand on her back possessively was anything to go by. That and the ring on her finger. What a shame. Glancing toward Gibbs, Tony wasn't surprised to see that there was hardly any reaction on the man's face. She wasn't a redhead.

"Carolina. Where's the boss? He's expecting to see this man. The other one," Teddy waved toward Gibbs, "can wait elsewhere. Take him to the waiting room."

"Listen..." Tony started protesting, but one look from Gibbs silenced him, which lasted until the man was gone from the room. "What do you want from me? At least let him go. He has nothing to do with this."

Teddy smiled. "Thanks to you, now he does."

When Carolina finally turned to look at Tony, she gasped, her fine features turning pale. "Gasparo?" The woman sounded shaken, the look on her face as if she'd seen an actual ghost.

"His name is Anthony DiNozzo."

"Gasparo..." Carolina wasn't listening as she moved with long, hurried steps. As tall as Tony was, she towered over him with her high heels. To make it worse, she took his frowning face between her ice-cold hands.

"Let the young man be, Caro," a man's deep voice said.

"But, father... Gasparo." Carolina's choked up voice was full of emotion.

"I know. We will talk about this later. Now go. He and I have things to discuss."

It didn't look like the woman wanted to obey, but one stern look from her father had her leave the room with her husband following like a shadow. The man looked more like her bodyguard, not a husband.

Tony crossed his arms over his chest, determined to do whatever it took to get Gibbs out of there, and then do what he could to walk out as well, alive at least. But if he had to die, at least he would make killing him as difficult as possible.

Angelo held out his hand as he walked closer. "My name is Arcangelo Voltolini, but you may call me Angelo. It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Anthony."

Narrowing his eyes, Tony ignored the hand, which earned him more than a few hard looks. "I can't say I feel the same way, Mr. Voltolini, when I'm here against my will and I don't know where or how my friend is."

Angelo didn't seem to mind the cold response. He even smiled. "Do not worry about your friend. Now come."

Seeing no other option, Tony followed the old man to a large room with a fireplace in it. The door closing behind them felt like a prison door. Despite the warmth coming from the fire, Tony felt cold.

Meanwhile, Gibbs gave his very best glare to anyone looking at him. He was fuming, and mad for letting himself be caught so easily. While the goons avoided looking at him, he studied his surroundings, until he was thrown into a room barely big enough for him to lie down. The room was bare of furniture, there were no windows and the only door was now being locked up, leaving him standing there in complete darkness.

Once he was sure no one was going to return, Gibbs tried to slip his hands free from the cuffs, and then he used force, to no avail. Eventually, he had to give up. They were much too tight. His hands hurt, and he was pretty sure his wrists were bleeding. If only Teddy hadn't completely emptied his pockets, then he'd have a better chance... Gibbs froze, and then berated himself for not noticing it sooner. There was something in the pocket of his right jacket. He was sure of it.

It took some time, but finally, he got the keys out of the pocket. While he was picking them up from the floor, he imagined Tony slipping them in his pocket while he put the handcuffs on. "Attaboy, Tony."

Once he managed to free himself, Gibbs felt his way to the door, already knowing he couldn't find any suitable weakness that he could exploit. All he could do was wait for someone to come in.

"...and this is my youngest, Italia."

"Mr. Voltolini," Tony finally said. This whole situation didn't make any sense and was starting to feel awkward at best. "As interesting as your family photos are, what do they have to do with anything?"

Tony had expected some 'offer that he couldn't refuse' from this Arcangelo Voltolini guy—a real mouthful of a name—but from the moment they had sat down, the man started showing him family albums, one by one. A huge pile of them. Tony was bored to tears. But hey, at least he now knew that the man had six children; three boys and three girls. All except the two youngest daughters were married. 

The eldest child was forty-two-year-old Alonzo, and his wife Maria.

The second oldest was forty-one-year-old Carolina, and her husband, Beppe.

Then there were the twins; thirty-seven-year-old Paolo and Peppino, with their wives, Maria and Cosima.

Then there was thirty-three-year-old Maria, and the youngest of them all, thirty-year-old Italia.

Alonzo had three sons, Carolina had one son, Paolo had three sons and two daughters, Peppino had four daughters and two sons.

Angelo's wife was dead, but his almost ninety-year-old mother was still alive and thriving, whose name was also Maria. Oh yes, and grandchildren. You can't forget the subtle bragging about the grandchildren. In fact, most of the bragging seemed to be about how fertile the Voltolini men were, with how much focus there was on the expanding family tree... Then, of course, after the immediate family came the long list of cousins and their families... There was no end in sight, and they hadn't even made a dent in the albums. As far as torture methods went, this one was effective. Tony was ready to be put out of his misery.

At first, he had been mildly interested, since he figured they'd be useful information in the future, if he got away. Now he wished he didn't have his good memory, as his mind was full of names, faces, and other information he didn't care to know about. This almost seventy-year-old man was way worse than Ducky with his storytelling... He was getting tired of pretending that he cared.

Angelo smiled. "Forgive me. I am an old man and family is close to my heart. There is one more picture I wish to show you."

Tony barely held back a sigh. He regretted not sleeping those few hours last night. Leaning closer to see the black-and-white picture of two young men, he frowned. One of them looked like it could be Angelo, but the one Angelo had his arm around... "That's..."

"Yes, he looks like you."

"Who is he?" Tony stared at the picture. Creepy... Had he not known better, he would've thought he was looking at himself. Or his clone.

"Gasparo Voltolini. He was my younger half-brother."

"Was?" Tony hadn't missed the way the old man's eyes darkened. It made him almost shiver. This man was a killer.

"He was killed," Teddy answered. He had been quietly watching the torture session. Drinking his glass of wine, with a small frown on his face.

"He was murdered," Angelo growled. "Leave us, Teo. I may call you later."

"Boss..." Teddy started protesting, but changed his mind when the man looked at him. "I'll go see how our other guest is doing."

Tony looked up sharply, but before he had a chance to do more than worry, Teddy stood up and left with hurried steps.

Angelo stared at the young man. The way he furrowed his brows was so much like his brother. Although, the way that emotion was wiped off his face, as if it had never existed, wasn't anything Gasparo could've done, with his fierce temperament and a face unsuitable for a good poker game. This one, however, held a guarded expression on his face, and even his body language didn't say what he was thinking. A blank, white piece of paper. That's what he was. Angelo found himself wondering if the man was a good actor. His late father's words came back to his mind...

'We are all actors. Each of us is playing a role, and the world is our stage. Sometimes, however, comes along a few people who hide their true character, and the world can only guess. Those people are the most dangerous because you never know for sure what their true intentions are. Are they your enemy, a friend, or something else? They are the true lead players, sometimes even the directors of the show. They can manipulate the situation and no one would ever know. I met a man like that once. It did not end well for anyone. Be careful of such people.'

Angelo smiled, looking at Anthony playing with his wine glass. This young man could be dangerous, but that only made him more interesting. Even with Teddy's interference, it was not a coincidence he had met Anthony. It could not be.

"My brother Gasparo was a fine man," he finally said, breaking the lengthy silence. "He never wanted any part of our family business, but he never left us. Too loyal. He knew you never betray the family. The same thing cannot be said about most people in these days. They have no honor. I kept him away from the business, I kept him from harm's way, and I kept his hands clean. It was all in vain. One day the police came. My father was weak, and my brothers were away doing their business. A proud man as my father was, he did not surrender. Gasparo managed to persuade him, but one policeman opened fire, and that was the end of it. Everyone started shooting at one another. Both my father and brother died on that day."

As sad of a tale as it was, there was one thing Tony couldn't help but notice; the slightest emphasis on the 'I,' when Angelo spoke about keeping his brother safe. It wouldn't surprise him if Angelo had elevated the brother into sainthood, with a literal altar. Some kind of pedestal anyway. One he, Angelo, created.

"He was thirty-eight when he died. How old are you, Anthony?"

Tony hesitated, but then he realized it didn't really matter. He wasn't undercover, with an alias that had been carefully crafted, and he was pretty sure Angelo could easily check it out. There was also a high possibility that he already knew. In that case, lying could be a really bad idea. "Twenty-seven."

"In about ten years, and you will be thirty-eight, just like my dear Gasparo."

If it was even possible, Tony felt even more uncomfortable. "Mr. Voltolini... I might look like your brother—what do I know, maybe I even sound like him—but I am not him."

Rather than being put out, or worse, Angelo looked serene. "No, no. I am sorry if you misunderstood. Gasparo isn't why you are here, even if I do like looking at you."

Well, that didn't sound creepy... Tony knew he should have been far more careful from the very beginning. This man's eyes... They were the eyes of an observer, of someone who was dangerously good at reading people. Someone who was used to stripping down every defense. His natural enemy.

"What do you want from me then? You know I'm a cop and nothing will change that."

Angelo stood up and walked to the fireplace, where he stood staring at the fire. "In the old world, people like me were treated as the leaders. With respect. Now, times have changed, and we must find different ways to survive. Different ways to keep our people safe."

"So you kill people and do some illegal business." When Angelo looked at him, Tony flashed him his brightest fake smile and said mockingly, "Don't tell me that you're innocent. Because it insults my intelligence, and it makes me very angry."

There was a moment of surprised silence, and then Angelo's chuckled. "The Godfather. I like you, son. I really do."

Tony hated being called son by this man, but he responded with a half-grin. "I'm not stupid. I can smell the death all over this place. Definitely on you."

Angelo nodded appraisingly. "So tell me, Anthony. You are a cop, drinking good wine in the company of a man who you believe to be an evil person, a criminal. How does it make you feel?"

Tony shrugged as if it was nothing. "I've had worse company. But I would still like to know why I am here."

"Of course... You see, my generation was strong, just like the ones before, but the new one is weak. My own children are an embarrassment, which I am sure they would argue is the opposite, as would most others coming out of this weak generation. Until now, we have kept things hidden and between our own people. Now we may have no other choice but to take in outsiders. We need new blood."

"You mean people like Teddy?"

"Teddy? Ah, Teo... Teo thought we use strange nicknames when he first came here... Only the young ones do. Too much TV."

Tony blinked as it finally clicked. The one thing that had been bugging him for a while now. Angelo's voice brought him out of his musings, and he pushed away the new revelation.

"Teo is new. He has been with us for only three years and has done well, even if he looks and acts strange. But it would be better if he were an Italian."

"What's wrong with him not being an Italian?"

"My people do not like the idea of an outsider being their leader. They will not follow him."

"What does any of this have anything to do with me?"

"He chose you. Perhaps he thinks that by bringing in someone who looks like Gasparo, it will make people like him more. Trust him more. He is not wrong. My brother was loved by many."

"So you think that by kidnapping me, and threatening my friend, is how you gain my loyalty? If anything, I would be waiting for the perfect moment to shoot his sorry ass." Tony sighed and asked, "Do you trust him?"

"As much as anyone in my position trusts anyone," Angelo said.

"From what little I managed to see, your men don't seem to even tolerate him. You say you keep all of this between your own people, and yet, there he goes, causing trouble big enough to end up in the morning news. He seems more like a weak link, someone bound to bring the destruction to you all. You also let him bring in another outsider, a cop, of all things. It's almost as if..." Tony paused to think. "You want things to go bad. You want him to be the bad seed, one you planted, for the destruction of this beloved family of yours. Why?"

"It took my mother much longer to figure that out." Angelo looked pleased. "Now... 'I am going to make you an offer you cannot refuse.'" Before he could enter full 'Godfather', he paused as the door opened. Angelo raised his brows. "It seems that a friend of yours has come to join us."

Tony looked over his shoulder and stood up, putting away the wine glass. "Gibbs."

Gibbs pointed his gun at Angelo, and growled, "I saw some interesting things on my way here. He's a murderer. The worst kind."

Chapter Text

Moving closer, Gibbs kept an eye on the old Italian, whose relaxed posture had turned rigid. They were two predators in the wild, sizing up one another. And Tony felt like the prey they were about to fight over.

"How did you get in here? Where is Teo, and the men guarding the door?" Angelo demanded. It was completely different from his previously almost laid-back attitude, but Tony preferred this. Anger was easier to deal with, and it was rarely faked.

Gibbs had that smug half-grin on his face. "I walked. Handcuffed and gagged in your waiting room. Sleeping on the floor."

Tony grinned. "He's Gibbs."

"DiNozzo. What are you still standing there for?"

"Well, you kind of came in the middle of something."

"Good. The slimeball has a room full of torture devices, and frozen dead bodies." From the tone of his voice, it was obvious that whatever Gibbs had seen was horrific enough for some of that horror—and fury—to get through his mostly stoic Marine appearance.

Tony wasn't surprised to hear that. It also explained why he could literally smell death on Angelo.

"It is all right, Anthony. We may continue our talk some other time," Angelo said.

"No, you won't. DiNozzo. Now."

Tony felt torn. Angelo had really gotten to him with this whole Gasparo thing and that last part before Gibbs had interrupted... He felt a shiver run through his back when Angelo squeezed his shoulder in a friendly manner. Gibbs looked murderous and very trigger friendly, more than he had so far.

"You would let me go, just like that?" Tony wasn't a fool. He knew there was no way it would be that easy. Angelo's smile pretty much confirmed it.

"Sooner or later you will return, and then we will continue our little talk."

Tony shook his head and was about to go to Gibbs, but stopped when both doors to the room were kicked wide open. It was Teddy, leading men with their weapons, who barged in. When Teddy took out his own gun, the way he did it was the moment Tony's suspicions were pretty much confirmed. Some old habits were deeply rooted... Too bad Teddy hadn't realized how important that little detail could be.

"Do not shoot," Angelo ordered as he sat down. For a moment, time was frozen.

Tony made up his mind then. Turning around, he faced Angelo. "Hey, Voltolini. Those trust issues I mentioned? I have one more movie quote for you." He leaned closer to whisper into his ear, and aware of the audience watching his every move, he shot a quick glance at Teddy.

Angelo's face didn't reveal any of his thoughts as he gave the order to his people. "Leave." He looked at Tony when he said, "I have a little family matter to deal with." Angelo hesitated. "Are you sure?"

Tony shrugged. "I could be wrong, or I could be lying to you in order to get rid of the thorn under my skin."

"But you are not."

"I'm pretty sure you can find it out yourself if you do some digging around." Tony took hold of Gibbs' arm with his good hand, and he had to almost drag him from the room, before the man could say anything to ruin their easy escape. As he closed the door, Tony heard Angelo speaking.

"Not you, Teo..."

The moment Tony and Gibbs were sitting inside one of the cars that the stolen keys fit, Gibbs snapped, "What was that all about?"

For a good while, Tony didn't speak a word. He ran a hand over his face.

Gibbs spoke gently, almost like to a child, much to Tony's annoyance. "Talk to me. I have no idea what's going on, and contrary to what people think, I can't read minds."

"Those people..."

"Yes?" Gibbs was getting impatient.

"Teddy. He's some undercover Agent gone wrong; FBI, I think. There were so many signs. He looks like one of their not so bright agents trying to look like some kind of badass gangster, only to end up looking like extreme makeover gone wrong. Those shoes... The shoes don't usually lie, and it's a detail many, for some reason, fail to remember. The way he uses his gun. The handcuffs... The envelope I saw on the car floor, but it didn't really bother me at the time, since I was too busy hoping he wouldn't kill you... Small little details here and there."

"You're sure of it? What you did there... If you did what I think you did, sooner or later the Feebs are going to give us a visit." Gibbs sighed.

"He murdered all those people. Who knows what else he's done that we don't know about. The FBI would cover up the whole thing, and he'll never be punished. I merely revealed him to another criminal."

"I'm not judging."

"I know. I mean, you're not the only one doing background check on people they start to work with."

Gibbs stared at him with narrowed eyes again. "One of these days..."

As they were driving, Gibbs kept glancing at Tony. "You know he might end up dead."

"Maybe, but I don't think he will. Angelo—Voltolini has some kind of plan, which could very well benefit from this. Unless he lied to me, of course, or betrayal is just too much for him to accept."

"Plans you care to share with me?"

"No. Before you get all Marine angry with me, Gibbs, it's because I don't really know what they are. I barely spent time with the man for one hour or so."

"DiNozzo..."

"Right. I'm rambling. It's just... I still don't know what he wants from me. He honestly didn't seem to mind that I'm a cop and could very well start investigating his business. Although, I'm pretty sure I won't find anything. It can't be that easy. Probably even those bodies are long gone by now."

Gibbs didn't say anything. He only spoke after they stopped next to Tony's car, which, much to the young man's heartfelt relief, was untouched. "I'm not going to pretend I understood half of this, but I want you to understand something."

Tony looked up only for a moment as he was digging through his huge first-aid kit that he kept in his car. "What?" he asked warily.

"You're not going to deal with things like these alone anymore. I'll watch your six."

Taking out the first-aid kit, Tony started cleaning up Gibbs' wrists—which the man had tried covering up with the sleeves of his jacket—and then he wrapped up the painful looking wounds. Once he was sure there was nothing else he could do, he finally said, "That sounds nice. Does it mean you will let me do the same? I mean, watch your six. No running off on your own, unless it's truly the only opinion you have."

"You need to ask the obvious?"

"Yeah. I am asking the obvious, because the thing is, if I sign up to do this job and I let you watch my six, it works both ways. You let me watch yours. You won't go on some dangerous one-man Marine gone rogue missions, or anything. I understand if it's a need to know case or something, but anything else..." Tony put away the first-aid kit. The sling long forgotten somewhere, he rubbed his aching shoulder. Leaning against his car, he waited for Gibbs to say something, anything, but instead the older man was somewhere deep in his own mind, staring at the moon. "Gibbs... If you screw up, I'll be gone before you get a chance to slap me. I won't tolerate being used, or worse. Like being sent to some assignment without knowing all the details, without knowing I could end up being killed for it."

Gibbs finally looked up, but this time it was Tony who had gotten lost in his mind. Or rather, in those memories of his again.

Walking into the room, Tony felt a tightening in his gut, the alarm bells in his head screaming at him relentlessly. Letting his instincts to take over, he pulled out his gun and turned around, shooting at the gunman before the man could get another chance. It was over so fast, it took a moment for everything to really sink in. After he had made sure the man was dead, Tony stood up and stared at the body. This was supposed to be a simple case of them picking up some witness who wasn't involved in anything dangerous. Certainly not a possible gun fight situation. He hadn't even worn his bulletproof vest. Surely Gibbs wouldn't send him in unprepared like this. Who was he kidding... He didn't know this Gibbs.

Thinking—hoping that this was just his usual bad luck, Tony turned around.

"Are you okay, Tony?" Ziva stood up from behind the bed, where she had disappeared the moment Tony had taken out his gun. She didn't look surprised or even startled. There was not even a hint of surprise on her face or body language. During the years, he had become good at reading her.

Tony narrowed his eyes, seeing red. Not again. Please, not again... Was it possible that they had completely stopped sharing any information with him? Since he had made it very clear after the last time that he would no longer fight her battles and be the walking target for the bad guys, and then the justice system when it all would come back to them. What was going on between this woman and Gibbs that they seemed to be going rogue and supporting each other all the time now?

"It won't happen," Gibbs said, all serious, and Tony could read it in his eyes that the man meant every word. The problem was that he probably knew the man better than Gibbs knew himself... Maybe. Only time would tell.

There was a bitter half-smile on Tony's face as he looked at Gibbs. "I want to believe you. Just promise me you won't lose your memory, and please avoid any explosive situations." Then he hesitated. "And never, ever, use the words 'you'll do' with me. You do that, I'll just shoot you."

"You'll do." And with that, he was gone. Leaving the team behind in complete shock.

The most shocked one of them was Tony, although it didn't show on his face. Holding Gibbs' badge and gun in his hands, he was feeling confused and lost. Abashed. Numb. Why? Why was this happening? Looking at the faces of the others, he had no idea how hard they were going to make the next months for him. How hard just surviving each day would become, and how he would find out the hard way who were his true friends and who would hold this against him. Who would use him.

As if it had been he who left them all behind. Instead of standing behind him, or with him, they stood against him. Tony rubbed his forehead. Just thinking about that whole time gave him a headache. And then there was the way Gibbs had returned. He had felt like the unwanted stepbrother who had to take up the role of the father when the man himself was gone. To be the man in the house while the younger siblings resented him, thinking themselves more worthy. "And never throw my crap from one desk to another without discussing it with me first."

Gibbs looked completely bemused, and the look on the man's face almost made Tony laugh. Perhaps he was taking this too seriously. Still... He was terrified to even take this step. Scared of following Gibbs 'again', like a lost puppy. Loyal St. Bernard all over again. It was not something he felt proud of. And yet, here he was, back on the same road he had sworn he wouldn't take again. He just couldn't help himself, could he?

"DiNozzo..." Gibbs paused with a sigh. "Let's get going then," he finally said as he stood up.

Running his hand through his hair, Tony felt too tired to even think. "I think we should get some coffee before going anywhere."

"You think?"

Following Gibbs' car, Tony was almost shocked to realize that Gibbs was driving barely under the actual speed limit. It could be because the man was also tired, or maybe his wrists were giving him a hard time. There was no way it was so that he could keep up with him... No way, no how.

Sneezing hard, Tony's hand went to his pocket for some tissue. Instead, he took out a piece of paper. After wiping his nose clean, he looked at the paper closer. It had a phone number on it. Angry, he opened the window and threw the paper out. Few minutes later, he almost regretted it when his phone started ringing. Picking it up from the passenger seat, he was prepared to hear Gibbs. The man was such a menace without his coffee. "I don't have any coffee left, Gibbs. I swear."

"I gave you that number for a reason."

Thanks to the surprise voice, Tony didn't realize he had left the road, until he hit the nearest tree. "Mr. Voltolini..." he gasped, trying to ignore the pain that shot through his arm when his car had kissed the tree.

"I am terribly sorry, Anthony. I did not think my call would cause an accident. Are you all right?" The man sounded genuinely sorry.

"What do you want?" Tony rubbed his head. He heard someone running toward his car. Gibbs, most likely. He hoped it was Gibbs...

"I meant it when I said we will continue our talk later. Save this number or write it down, but do not lose it. It is my private number."

Tony sighed. "Please, don't call me again." He ended the call just as the door on his side was yanked open forcefully.

Gibbs looked frantic as his eyes darted over his body and face. "What happened? Did you fall asleep?"

Tony stared at the man, wondering what he should do, or say. "Not exactly. More like dozed off."

Letting out a long breath, Gibbs pulled Tony out of the car. "Take whatever is important and then get in my car."

"Your car? Why? Wait..." Tony paled. "My car! Not again!"

Without saying anything, Gibbs picked up all the things he could find from Tony's car, which luckily wasn't much.

"I'm not leaving her here!" Tony protested when Gibbs started dragging him away, barely allowing the moment to take the keys and to lock the doors.

"Call someone to pick it up."

"In the morning! I'm not leaving her here to be stolen or violated beyond repair!"

"DiNozzo..."

"I'll call someone," Tony muttered bitterly. As he sat in Gibbs' car, he tried to see if anyone was watching them.

"You sure you're okay?" Gibbs asked, noticing how silent Tony was.

"Yeah. I wasn't driving fast." Just fast enough to damage his beautiful car.

"Please tell me you know you can trust me..." Gibbs sounded tired.

"I know. I'm sorry."

"About what?" Now that it was just Gibbs' car, the man threw away his careful driving all too happily.

"Just... I kind of trust you."

"Kind of?"

"I got a phone call and... I don't know. I guess I'm not ready to share everything with you. Not yet." Tony glanced at Gibbs uncertainly and saw the man frowning.

Finally, breaking the long silence, Gibbs sighed softly. "Fine... You talk to me when you feel ready. Just don't wait until I have found it out on my own, because I will try to find it out on my own."

"I know. You wouldn't be you if you didn't."

"Get some sleep."

"What about you?"

"I'm not the one who crashes my car because I haven't slept enough. Just sleep. I'll wake you up when we're home. Won't take long."

"Not with your driving..." Home. Tony felt all warm and fuzzy, thinking about it, and then cold.

"You said something?" Gibbs growled, only to get silence as the answer. Tony had fallen asleep as soon as he closed his eyes. Deep sleep, by the looks of it. Reaching over his hand, Gibbs brushed away the unruly hair over the young man's forehead and he sighed, seeing there the red mark caused by the crash. "You need a haircut," he muttered. He couldn't help but wonder whether Tony had even noticed hitting his head, again. Hopefully not hard enough to get another concussion... "I've got a feeling I'll be having my hands full, with you around, DiNozzo."

Chapter Text

When he woke up, Tony blinked several times to clear the haze in his tired eyes. It took a moment for things to settle down in his head, but the bed felt familiar, so it didn't take too long to realize where he was. Gibbs' guest room, again. Strangely, he had no memory of how he had ended up there. His last memory was of staring outside the car window before he fell asleep in Gibbs' car... The car! Tony sat up fast, trying to find his phone, which wasn't there.

"Calm down before you hurt yourself. Ducky is already going to chew out both of us. Especially when he finds out you haven't been using the sling."

Tony stared at the older man standing at the doorway. Gibbs was sipping his coffee calmly. From the looks of it, it had to be the third one. "My car..."

"Called an old friend of mine. He'll bring it here later tomorrow, and then you can look over the damage all you want, after your arm is better."

Tony couldn't stop the relieved sigh coming from the depths of his heart. "My phone?"

"On the floor. You must've hit it down during the night."

Tony frowned and glanced at the floor. Indeed, there it was.

"Get up. Ducky and our Director are waiting for us."

"Wonderful." Tony grimaced.

"There's coffee and pancakes in the kitchen, so get up before it's all gone."

Tony stared after the man as he left. Pancakes. Like Gibbs ever made them for himself... Then again, Gibbs would drink all the coffee if he didn't get down in the kitchen. Now. Struggling to get free from the sheets around his feet and trying to get up, he crashed down on the floor. Luckily, on his unhurt side. Still trying to escape from the strangling hold of the sheets, he heard Gibbs running up the stairs and back into the room. Staring at his young guest, who was in a rather questionable position on the floor, he released a long-suffering sigh and left the room.

"Could've used some help," Tony muttered as he kept fighting for his freedom until his sleepy mind finally figured out how to untangle himself.

When he entered the kitchen, smelling both the coffee and Gibbs' pancakes, it brought back so many memories, which he tried to ignore. He wasn't in the mood for that so early in the morning. "You know, just plain toast would've been fine."

"You complaining?" Gibbs glared at him, although it was lacking its usual strength, or maybe he was still not awake enough to pay too much attention to it. He eyed his young guest's bed hair with a small twitch of his lips.

"No. Not me. Pancakes sound great." Tony yawned. Sitting down behind the kitchen table, he watched behind half-closed eyelids as Gibbs prepared him both the pancakes and coffee. What a shame that the man didn't take this Gibbs to work.

Gibbs frowned as Tony, still half-asleep, covered the pancakes entirely with the maple syrup. He finally took the bottle from him when the plate wasn't able to hold more. Shrugging, Tony started eating. Gibbs visibly shuddered, and he had to ask, "That enough syrup for you, DiNozzo?"

"Too much."

"Well, you better eat it, or I'll feed you myself."

"Didn't say I wouldn't eat it." Once he had finished his second plate of pancakes, with much less syrup, and coffee, he felt much more awake.

"You finally with the living now?" Gibbs sounded amused.

"You're one to talk. It's like coffee is your brain or something."

Ignoring the comment, Gibbs finished his last cup of coffee. "Get dressed. We'll be going in fifteen minutes."

Only now Tony realized that he was wearing a pair of clean briefs and a T-shirt. Trying not to think about that too much, but hoping he'd done it half-asleep, he shrugged. "All my clothes burned in the fire, remember?"

"There are clothes next to your bed, if you didn't see them already. We'll go do some shopping later. Take a shower first. You stink."

Tony sniffed at his arm. Right, he got smoked pretty good. It was a wonder Gibbs had allowed him to go to bed without washing up first. "You should realize that my taste is completely different from yours. And when I shop... Well, some people claim that on my worst days I can outdo at shopping even some of the women."

Gibbs frowned even more, not understanding how women could spend hours after hours shopping, and even less how any man could do the same. A pair of pants and a shirt, and maybe some socks and shoes. What else did you need?

Reading the unsaid questions on the older man's face, Tony's grin became even wider. "You'd be surprised, Gibbs, by the difference between clothes and... clothes. You should give it a try sometime. It would do you wonders."

The look on the older man's face told the former Detective exactly what he thought of that, and Tony had to make himself stop grinning as it was starting to hurt his cheeks now. It was nice to know that some things hadn't changed. It made him feel... oddly nostalgic. Although, how do you even feel nostalgic over something that wasn't real? How was he going to live his life from now on? What if he'd repeat the same mistakes and go through the same hurt and feelings of betrayal as 'before'? What would he do then? Those were the questions he'd been asking himself over and over again in these days.

Tony frowned, and without realizing it, he raised his hand toward his head and touched his temple. With the memory so fresh and vivid, he was still not completely sure if it truly had been nothing but a dream...

He closed the door, and the keys slipped from his hand, but he didn't even bother picking them up. He was fairly sure he wouldn't be standing up anytime soon if he'd get too close to the floor right now. Walking slowly toward the living room, he leaned heavily against the walls and anything that he could use to keep himself upright. Finally making it to the couch, Tony let out a weary sigh and sat down. He knew he should use this chance to get some sleep or at least order in some food to eat, but he simply sat there numbly staring at his hands, which were more steady than they should be as they held the gun.

At times such as these, he wondered how he should do it. In the head, or maybe he should put it in his mouth instead? He wouldn't do it using any pills; couldn't take the chance of something going wrong and failing. Using the knife? Too dramatic and still not fast enough. And he sure wasn't going to hang himself when he was already traumatized enough by not being able to breathe. It wasn't how he wanted to go. He felt his mouth twist into a grim smile. Perhaps he should take another one of Jenny's many undercover missions and let the bad guys do the job. At least then he'd go down with style and no one would be any wiser.

Pressing the gun against his temple, and just like so many nights before this one, Tony closed his eyes and simply enjoyed feeling the cold metal against his skin . Maybe one of these days he'd go to the next level and start playing 'Russian roulette'...

It was strange how even their bad guy today became completely creeped out when he urged the man to kill him and later that same criminal told him to, 'go and get some help,' and yet Ziva and McGee hadn't been any wiser. Then again, they did come to the scene late, which was something that kept happening far too often. Even Lee seemed confused at the way those two—and even Abby—behaved. Lee tried questioning it once, but found out the hard way that it was better to stay out of Ziva's way.

He almost missed Vivian... As much as the woman had been a pain in the ass to work with, it was nothing compared to his current 'partners'. Thank God for Jimmy and Jeanne. Those two probably held the remains of his sanity, even if the latter relationship would be sooner or later shot down to hell...

His phone rang and Tony opened his eyes. It was the other phone. Jeanne. Putting the safety on, he let the gun fall on the floor. He'd do it tomorrow. Or the day after. Someday. Soon. He knew he wouldn't last long, and with Gibbs gone... The old Gibbs would have slapped some sense into his head by now, but this Gibbs didn't even remember him, nor would he be shedding a tear had he walked in to find his cold dead body.

Picking up the ringing phone, Tony spoke with softness only reserved for her. "Jeanne... Now..? No, of course not. I just came home. Long day at work... Sure. I'm on my way."

"Tony? Does your head hurt?" Gibbs asked.

Tony shook his head and moved his hand away from his head. "Can you promise me something?"

"Depends."

"Don't become my lifeline."

"What?"

"Ever."

To Gibbs' credit, his bemused look was gone sooner than it had appeared on his face. "DiNozzo... What on earth..?"

Tony shook his head. "Forget it. It's stupid. I'll go put on those clothes." He left the room before Gibbs had a chance to say anything else. Knowing that this was a lost case, he didn't really want to talk more about this. The former Marine was and would always be his lifeline. Even if he had never told it to the man. Dream or reality, it didn't matter, since this would end up badly. He just knew it. It always did. The truth was, his biggest fear wasn't his messed up head getting someone killed. He was pretty sure he could do his work just fine by now. He was more afraid of getting hurt all over again. It sounded so pathetic even in his own head, but he was afraid his father figure from a dream would let him down. That he would end up trusting the man, only to be betrayed. Yet he hadn't been able to stop himself from following Gibbs like some lost puppy. Just like 'before'. But the idea of Gibbs not having anyone to watch his six right now... That Gibbs could end up dead because he hadn't been there... When he thought that Gibbs had died in that explosion—which had brought back too many bad memories—had made up his mind for him.

Tony finished changing into his borrowed clothes and only then noticed he was wearing that same pair of pants and shirt he'd been borrowing so many times before...

"Hey, boss! On your next birthday, I'm going to get you some real clothes," Tony said as he walked down the stairs.

Gibbs looked up and hid his smirk at the way his old clothes from his late teenage years fit the kid. This almost thirty-year-old child... "You don't know when my birthday is, DiNozzo."

"Of course I do. I mean, how else had I known to..." Tony bit his lip, but the secret was already out, and he knew it when Gibbs smiled. So that's where the anonymous gift on his desk had appeared from during his last birthday. "Never mind... Hey, boss."

"Hmh?"

"We should have a slumber party. Abby would love it, don't you think? Some popcorn, a good movie or few. Scary stories, so none of us can sleep for a week. Oh! And pizza. You can't forget pizza."

Gibbs had to hold himself back to not call Tony a kid, but his thoughts were clear on his face for Tony, who was fast learning how to read him. Before Tony had time to feel offended, Gibbs growled out, "DiNozzo. Go to sleep."

Rubbing his head at the imaginary head-slap, Tony grinned sheepishly. "On it."

Brushing his fingers over the shirt a little too gently, Tony smiled sadly at the memory. Although he had not mentioned it to anyone else, a week later, Abby arranged a little 'slumber party' at Gibbs' place for the three of them, with popcorn, movies and pizza. They—he and Abby—fell asleep soon after the scary stories. During the whole time Gibbs had growled this and that, but it was obvious the older man was only acting annoyed and he was many times caught trying to hide his smile.

"I should have never come..."

Gibbs stood at the doorway and observed his young guest, hoping the man would be able to keep up his good Agent act, or they'd be both in trouble. For the first time, he was starting to doubt his gut feeling and if he had done the right thing, bringing Tony with him.

Chapter Text

The moment Tony entered the morgue, Ducky was almost ready to throw a fit and take Tony to the hospital himself. The Ducky now, in this reality, had no idea yet what kind of trouble magnet his new friend was.

"It's really not as bad as it looks," Tony complained as he kept wriggling on the cold autopsy table, wearing nothing but his briefs, as Ducky insisted on making sure there were no other injuries hidden from him. How had he forgotten there were times when Ducky could be as scary as Gibbs if he ever got into such a mood...

"I must say, dear Anthony," Ducky said peevishly, "I'm starting to wonder what your definition of the words, 'not so bad as it looks,' and most of all, 'I'm fine,' really are." Ducky shook his head. He wasn't angry anymore, but he was upset how the arm was worse than before, when he had seen it last time not too long ago. "There, all done. I think you should still go to the hospital. It could end up getting even worse. I would hate to see you losing your arm."

Tony rolled his eyes. "Ducky, I really am fine. Fine, as in F-I-N-E. Fine." Ducky seemed unconvinced, while Tony was more than happy to put the clothes back on for some much-needed warmth, which wasn't the easiest thing to do with only one hand and Ducky had made sure the other one was now tightly and unmoving against his body.

"And where is Jethro? I must admit that I'm very curious indeed to find out his secret of getting you to come back."

"He went to see the Director," Tony answered, and was silently grateful when Ducky had mercy on him, and helped to put the clothes back on. "As for how I'm here... Where should I even begin... My partner turned out to be a dirty cop, but he's paying the price now, which is much better than ending up in your body bag. I quit my job and my boss killed himself because he was about to be exposed to everyone what type of cop he really was, and then a bomb destroyed my apartment, along a huge part of the whole building. People got killed and hurt... There were some bad guys involved here and there, and Gibbs and I were kidnapped, only to have their boss let us go. I don't know. Somewhere, somehow, I ended up coming here." Tony left out his little crash with the car, not to mention that he had been driving the thing in the first place.

Shaking his head at the story, which he was sure only touched the surface, Ducky smiled with a twinkle in his eyes. "Does this mean I'll be enjoying your company more often now?"

Tony's mouth twisted into a slight smile. "Perhaps, Ducky. Perhaps. I'm sure the final word is up to the Director though. He was always my favorite Director."

"In that case, I shall be expecting to hear more about that dream of yours."

"I'll keep that in mind, but I would much rather listen to you and your stories, even if I have heard them already."

The two men chuckled at their shared little 'inside joke'. Then, just as Tony was about to leave the room, he suddenly remembered why he was there in the first place. Gibbs had forced him down there.

"Oh. I think you might want to know the real reason Gibbs didn't come to see you himself. That coward could himself use a doctor. You might want to take a look at his wrists; they looked pretty bad, and although I did my best at cleaning them up and wrapping up the wounds, it is as you've been saying, between me and you, you're the doctor."

Tony left the morgue feeling satisfied, knowing full well Gibbs would not be leaving the Navy Yard without Ducky finding him first, and even if he did somehow manage to escape, Ducky would make it into a 'home visit'. Revenge was sweet and if he had to and was pushed into it, he could be just as much of a bastard as the Mr. 'second b for bastard'. After all, he had learned from the master.

Ducky shook his head bemusedly. What was he going to do with not only one but two of the probably most stubborn men around?

Gibbs made sure his sleeves covered the bandages around his wrists. He really was not in the mood to explain the wounds, as that would lead to a whole another discussion of what had happened while he'd been away. Satisfied that you could hardly notice anything—unless you knew what to look for—Gibbs opened the door without knocking and stepped inside.

"Ah... Agent Gibbs." There was a hint of sarcasm in Director Morrow's voice as he looked at the man entering his office.

"Tom." Gibbs simply nodded, crossing his arms over his chest.

"So..."

"The ultimatum. I've made up my mind."

Tom's eyebrows almost disappeared somewhere up on his forehead in surprise. Gibbs wasn't one to give in to any kind of ultimatums, but now he had, and it happened way under the deadline. There had to be some kind of catch...

"DiNozzo."

Tom blinked, and then it dawned on him. "You chose that Detective?"

"Yep." Gibbs raised up his chin in a stubborn manner, and the look on his face dared anyone to argue with him.

"Okay then."

"Okay?"

"Okay." Tom was smug, and he didn't even try to hide it, much to Gibbs' annoyance. Oh, he had gotten one on Gibbs... Maybe he should celebrate it. "The truth is, I was going to offer him a job anyway. I just wasn't sure what would have been the best way to do it, seeing as he's been turning down offers since he became a cop. One problem solved then. Assuming you got him to agree with this, and you're not doing this behind his back?"

"He knows."

"Good. Since he's still on sick leave, and you're not working right now either, we can deal with the paperwork and any other work-related details later."

Before Gibbs could leave, Tom spoke again. He just had to know... It wasn't every day that Gibbs would choose someone to work with. Someone he most likely hardly even knew yet. "So tell me, is this one of those infamous gut feelings of yours or what? Is he going to be the next Agent Gibbs?" God, he prayed that wasn't the case. He didn't need another Gibbs to deal with.

There was a smug half-smile on Gibbs' face as he answered with unwavering certainty, "No. He'll be the next Agent DiNozzo."

While Gibbs was with the Director, Tony walked into the bullpen and looked at the steady working that was going on in there. Leaning against the wall, he almost laughed at the movie quote popping in his head; 'Oh yes, the past can hurt. But from the way I see it, you can either run from it, or learn from it...' Children's movie or not, that quote did have some wisdom in it. That and Ducky's 'don't make any decisions in anger '.

Hearing the elevator's 'ding' sound, Tony didn't think much of it, until he recognized the sound those shoes made. He grimaced and put on a neutral mask on his face before he turned to look at the young lab goth spotting him and then running toward him. 'Well, there are some things a man just can't run away from...' Still, it wasn't easy when Tony was overwhelmed by flashbacks of Abby. Many of them with her running toward him, giving him her bone-crushing hugs, jumping on him, hugging some more... She really had always liked hugging and physical contact in general. Whereas he had always both craved and feared it at the same time. For a second Tony almost feared the woman would indeed give him one of those bone-crushing hugs and as much as he had told Ducky that he was fine, he really could do without one of those right now. Even Abby seemed to be very uncertain, and her arms looked almost like nailed to her sides, as she had to hold herself back and to not give a hug.

"Abigail." Tony nodded, and Abby's eyes filled with tears. "Gibbs is with the Director. I'm sure he'll be out soon enough."

"No, that's not what I... I'm..."

"What?"

"Thank you. You know."

"Not exactly." Tony frowned.

"Caf-Pow. I know you brought it to me. I know Gibbs never told you to, and I was... I was bad. No, that's not right. I was horrible. Can you ever forgive me?"

"I wouldn't go that far. I've met people way worse than you."

"Oh!"

Tony was completely unprepared, which was why he let out a loud and somewhat high-pitched yelp, as he not only felt but heard his bones making a cracking sound when Abby finally jumped on him, hugging him tightly.

"You finally called me Abby! Don't ever call me Abigail! It sounds so... So... So formal," she finally decided with great distaste. "And cold."

"Abby... Abbs... Abby!"

Abby looked horrified as she finally let go of the man, seeing how pale Tony was. "Oh no! I totally forgot your arm! I'm so sorry!"

Tony didn't whimper, but it was close. "It's fine... I'm fine... I just... Kind of would like to sit down for a minute..."

It was as if all her hesitation was gone, and she wrapped her arm around Tony's waist and put his good arm over her shoulder.

He gave her a funny look. "I'm not going to faint. DiNozzos do not faint. I just need to sit down for a moment."

"Don't start arguing with me, Tony-boy. We'll go to my lab where you can lie down or sit, whatever feels the most comfortable, and then we can talk."

"Abi— Abby. I'm not exactly in a mood to talk with anyone right now, and as soon as Gibbs comes, we're leaving." Tony decided to leave out the fact that they might stay there a little longer if Ducky got his hands on Gibbs. When, not if.

"Please, Tony..."

Tony grimaced at the theatrical pout, not fit on the face of a woman her age. It wasn't cute. At least she wasn't in her forties... Even so, he was powerless against it with his current mental state and with the painful wound giving him a hard time. "Fine. But let me walk on my own. I've already gotten kidnapped and injured during my last, very short, stay in here when I was supposed to be helping with the case. I would at the very least very much like to keep my remaining dignity if I'm going to start working here."

Abby looked at him sharply at this, but didn't say anything as she let go of him. They made it to the lab in complete silence and despite the heavy atmosphere, Tony was relieved when he was finally able to sit down, even if he was sitting on the floor with his back against the wall. He felt surprisingly tired. Ducky must've slipped a little bit of something in the tea he had given to him before... He felt angry, and yet he could never hate Ducky.

Tony sighed, feeling her eyes on him even without opening his eyes, which he had closed the moment he sat down. "I can feel you staring at me... What is it?"

"Is it true? You'll be working here, working with the Bossman?"

"So it seems. I figured I could try out another place for two years."

"Two years... Guess I can live with that..." Abby grinned and Tony opened his eyes with a snort.

"Don't get too happy. As you probably know, I am very accident-prone. Always have been and always will be. I don't think that's going to change if it hasn't so far. Don't ask me why. I almost got Gibbs killed in a bomb explosion, and then again because of some bad guys who were after me and he happened to be there. He injured his wrists because of it. And we can't forget those big bad guys trying to kill us with their big bad guns, way before any of those things happened. Oh, and I also crashed my car. Lucky that Gibbs wasn't in it. I might have forgotten something, but that pretty much sums it up."

Abby was chewing her bottom lip, looking uncomfortable. A part of her wanted to tell this newbie that she could kill him without leaving any evidence behind, but... "I know. Gibbs already told me when I called him." And her Bossman had actually warned her for doing anything 'stupid' like threatening this new golden boy here— Stop it! she scolded herself. She had already been scolded by Ducky for acting like some spoiled brat. However, she was still wondering what it was about this man that it made her beloved Gibbs act so not like Gibbs. Even her deeper than deep background check—or few—hadn't been able to solve all the mysteries. If any. Surely Gibbs wasn't interested in DiNozzo because of the past full of unanswered questions? It wasn't like the man was the only one with some secret past and full potential to become a good Agent that had come across them. Or was it truly because of Gibbs' gut feeling? Not that she would ever doubt Gibbs, but still...

Tony rolled his eyes. "Figures... And don't ask me why Gibbs felt the need to drag me here with him. Once he sets his mind on something, he becomes obsessed. So I agreed to give it a try. He's like... like a mad dog with a bone he's unwilling to give up."

"Don't compare Bossman to a dog!"

"I've been nicknamed loyal St. Bernard by some. Besides, I compared myself to some dead bone between his teeth, so I don't see the reason to get upset. Also, we all go a little mad sometimes. Although when he gets mad, he gets Captain Ahab mad... Trust me, I know... Don't ask me how I know it. That's a secret."

Abby grinned widely. "That was from Psycho, wasn't it? Alfred Hitchcock."

"Maybe." Tony flashed his trademark smile, and seeing the full megawatt for the first time in person, Abby was blinded by it for a moment.

"Okay. Maybe I kind of could like you... I mean, really? Psycho. Captain Ahab."

Hidden from their eyes was Gibbs, who chuckled inwardly as he stood at the door. He had almost walked in when he had heard the two of them talking. What he heard, didn't make him happy, to say the least. Annoyed was more like it, at best.

"...figured I could try out another place for two years..."

"Two years... Guess I can live with that..."

Two years? Was the, now former, Detective really going to set such a timeline as that? Stay for two years and then skip the town. Not on his watch. Gibbs was also feeling rather dismayed at the way Tony had mentioned their little 'adventure' back in Baltimore. And what's with those nicknames; Bernard and Ahab? Comparing him to a mad dog? He almost missed the fox in a henhouse parable. Almost... At least the enmity between the two 'kids' seemed to be forgotten. From the sound of their enthusiastic chatter, maybe they'll even get along. What were they talking about anyway? Movie quotes and names Gibbs had never even heard of. Not that he'd really been watching too many movies during his whole lifetime anyway. He couldn't help but smile as he observed those two, both almost thirty-year-old big children. He wasn't sure yet which one of them was the biggest one...

Gibbs was so focused on observing the two that he didn't notice anyone behind him, until he felt the hand on his shoulder. Startled, he turned around. "Ducky. Morning..."

"Good morning, Jethro." There was that special kind of odd gleam in Ducky's eyes, and the man's voice was full of the sweetest honey. Hearing the all too familiar tone of voice, Gibbs frowned. Then he noticed someone observing them with a smug and full 1000 megawatt grin on his face.

Still talking with Abby, who hadn't noticed anything, Tony felt the day had suddenly become so much better when he saw Ducky taking full control of the situation in less than few seconds.

That... DiNozzo! Gibbs growled in his mind. This was truly a head-slap worthy action from the young man.

"Do not be hard on our dear boy, Jethro. He's only making sure you're being taken care of."

"Oh, I'm sure he is."

Ducky didn't let Gibbs argue and somehow managed to 'sweet-talk' his friend into following him. It would be a couple of hours later when Tony and Gibbs could finally leave the Navy Yard—since Gibbs' other wrist had needed some serious tending—which worked just fine for Tony, who finally couldn't keep his eyes open any longer, and he took a nap in the lab.

As soon as Ducky wasn't around anymore, and it was just he and one very smug DiNozzo, Gibbs delivered the head-slap.

Chapter Text

Stepping outside into the sun, Tony took a deep breath of the surprisingly fresh air in the city. Even the sky was clear, and the sun was shining, and he was now finally officially cleared fit enough to work in the field. Too bad, he had still hours of extra studying waiting for him before he would become officially NCIS Agent. Or not really studying, since it was at best refreshing his memory of things he already knew, so he knew he would pass that thing with his eyes closed and hands tied behind his back if he'd have to. Unless it was that one detail that was different from his dream, which would be just his luck, and then he'd be majorly screwed. Still, he never imaged he'd be 'back to school' where he'd be bored to tears over the identical, dryer than dry lessons.

He had been in D.C. for a couple of months now and still living with Gibbs, who for some reason hadn't kicked him out yet, even if they did have their fair share of arguments and one or few of them involved epic levels of stubbornness, but he wasn't going to test his luck any longer, which was why he was going to see a few apartments to either buy or rent. At this point, he wasn't too picky. As long as it wasn't any of the apartments he'd been living in the dream and the apartment was close enough—but not too close—to the Navy Yard, he was pretty much willing to live in a complete dump, or even use some of 'that money' he never touched to buy some fancy place. Frankly, right now he couldn't care less what kind of place it was. The only problem was how he'd keep his apartment a secret from other people. Especially Gibbs, since he knew there was no way Gibbs would be okay with any kind of place he'd be fine with.

"Oh no..." Tony sighed when he saw the familiar car and the person leaning against it. The car was parked in such a place that he had no way to sneak away. He sighed again and forced a bright smile on his face as walked toward the car. "Gibbs. What are you doing here? Waiting for someone?"

Gibbs glared and waited for the young man to be close enough to deliver the head-slap he had wanted to give since morning.

"What was that for?" Tony whined and rubbed the back of his head. It sure hurt when the old man wanted it to hurt.

"What did I tell you yesterday?"

"To not leave my socks all over the house?" Tony sighed at the glare. "To let you know when I was going to the doctor."

"So why then sneak out while I was sleeping?"

"Ah... It's just... Gibbs... Listen..."

Gibbs gave him his impatient 'I'm waiting ' look.

"I figured I've been living in your place and eating your food long enough. Too long, let's be honest. You taking me everywhere with your car and me driving you crazy when I can't keep my mouth shut. You haven't slept a whole lot lately, and look like you really need to get some rest. Besides, I can drive my own car just fine by now, which is finally completely fixed by the way."

Gibbs frowned, not understanding why this talk was bothering him so much. "DiNozzo..."

"I'm sorry you had to come all the way here, but I've got my car and I have some things to do. You really, really, should go and get some sleep while you can."

Gibbs ignored the needing to sleep comment. Instead, he perked up at the, 'things to do,' part. He'd noticed how DiNozzo had been awfully restless lately and obviously hiding something from him. "What things?"

Tony cursed himself for opening his big mouth. "Ah, you know. Need to buy this and that, and enjoy my last days of freedom before the real work begins. You know, other than going through the cold cases and studying."

For a moment Gibbs looked as if he'd say something more, but to Tony's great relief, he nodded. "Fine. Just let me know if you need anything. I mean it, DiNozzo!"

"Sure thing, boss," Tony lied cheerfully. He wouldn't call Gibbs if he could help it. "See you later, then," he said and hurried to his own car, before Gibbs decided to change his mind. He didn't see the look on Gibbs' face or the stubborn narrowing of his eyes.

Several apartments later and more tired than he cared to admit, Tony finally smiled. "This is it."

The guy who had been unfortunate enough to be the one showing him all those apartments during the last five hours or so, sighed with relief written all over his red face. His once neat hair was sticking up in places where he'd been running his sweaty hands over more than once in great frustration. His tie was loose and the first button of his shirt had been opened after the first two hours. His skin was covered in sweat, which really didn't look good on the shirt. "Really? You're sure?" the man asked. He had been in this business for almost ten years and had never come across such a demanding client as this DiNozzo guy. Everything seemed to be wrong; the kitchen was too small, there were holes in the wall, the wiring didn't get the approval, the toilet made strange noises, the neighbors were either unlikable or too friendly... The guy went through everything!

Tony turned around to look at the man and couldn't stop the Cheshire cat smile spreading on his face. "Well, now that you mentioned it..." he started and then chuckled as the poor man had a pure look of desperation on his face. He looked like a man about to burst into tears. Tony was many things, but he wasn't cruel. "Just kidding. This is perfect. I'll take it."

"Great! I mean... Good. I'll... make few calls, and make sure all the paperwork is done and you'll have the keys before you know it."

Tony nodded, knowing the man was more than happy to get rid of him as soon as he could. "That's fine. I'll go get something to eat while you do that. Call me when it's done." Without waiting for an answer, he left the apartment and then the building, rolling his eyes when he saw the car parked in the middle of the street and the driver completely ignoring the angry yelling from someone. He hoped that wasn't going to become a habit, or he'd have to use up all of his charm to keep his new neighbors happy. As he walked past his own car and toward the coffee shop that he'd seen on his way to the apartment, he wasn't surprised to hear the sound of a car door opening and then closing or the footsteps following after him.

Ordering two cups of coffee and sandwiches, Tony sat down at the darkest corner table there was and chuckled when the man following him entered with a frown, looked around and finally spotting him there, marched toward the table.

"In the middle of the street?"

Gibbs glared and sat down. "All the other places were taken."

"You mean all the places where you can keep your eyes on the door."

Gibbs' only answer was to glare even harder, so Tony nodded toward the other cup—the bigger one—which Gibbs happily took. Even happier was he when it was just the way he liked. The men enjoyed their coffee and sandwiches in silence. Meanwhile, Tony paid attention to the rather stiff way Gibbs sat, and he finally broke the silence between them. "It hurts to sit after the five hours of sitting in the car, doesn't it? So did you get Abby to check out all the places, or did you do it yourself?"

Ordering another cup of coffee, Gibbs finally looked at him, properly. "Was it so bad?"

"What was?"

"Staying with me."

Tony watched in bemusement as the former Marine was actually nibbling at his half-eaten sandwich. And sulking. It could almost look cute, except it didn't. "No. That's not it... I've already been living too long with you. As grateful as I am that you offered me a place to stay, I think you and I can both agree that I should get my own place. My arm and shoulder are in perfect condition and you'll get your home back for you only. And no offense, but wouldn't it be kind of strange if someone asks me where I live and my answer would be with my boss? Not to mention, if you want to bring a woman there. That would be just... awkward. Again, no offense, but that's something I really don't want to witness." Tony couldn't help but wonder how, while obviously uncomfortable, he hadn't felt the same kind of awkwardness toward Senior's unashamed in your face relationships with the many women while he still lived with the man as a kid. It was yet another curious aspect of the many similarities and differences between Senior and Gibbs, and his relationship with them.

During their weeks together, Gibbs had slowly started to see the difference between real and fake smiles, and now he noticed how the grin on Tony's face looked forced. Or he would like to think that he was able to tell the difference, having seen the real smile only few times. And no matter how small it might have been, he somehow preferred seeing that smile over any dazzling DiNozzo megawatt smiles...

- FLASHBACK -

Sitting down in the living room, Gibbs let out a weary sigh. Ducky hadn't gone easy on him for trying to hide his wounds. Didn't matter that the wounds weren't such a big deal anyway. DiNozzo had done a surprisingly good job, wrapping up his wrists, which made both older men question whether it was a good or bad thing that their young friend knew so well how to treat such wounds. Looking next to him, he frowned slightly as Tony joined him. There were clear lines of pain on the young man's face, and his eyes were closed. He kept brushing his hurt arm with his good hand.

"Ducky gave you anything?"

Tony opened his eyes and shrugged. "Most likely."

"Most likely?"

"I think there was something in that tea he made me drink. Made me really sleepy."

"Ah..." Gibbs chuckled. Of course Ducky would do that. The man could sometimes be almost as bad as he when it came to breaking the rules.

Tony didn't look even remotely amused. "Not funny, boss. I told him I don't want anything. That was wrong on so many levels."

Gibbs couldn't deny the happy feeling when he was called boss. Even more when, unlike the other times, DiNozzo didn't flinch or look like he had said something wrong either. It came so naturally.

"Did Ducky give you anything?" Tony returned the question, with that smug grin again, and Gibbs narrowed his eyes.

"Never do something like that again."

The kid had the nerve to shrug, without losing the grin. "Can't promise something I can't keep, boss."

Giving a soft head-slap, which was becoming more like second nature to him, Gibbs stood up. "Make some coffee. We'll go shopping later." And he wasn't going to complain too much if they'd indeed end up spending hours going from store to store. Not that he would say it out loud.

Tony didn't move from his spot, and Gibbs opened his mouth to speak again, but Tony was faster. "Why didn't you ask me?"

"Ask about what?"

"When I first came here. Our talk in the elevator."

Gibbs grimaced inwardly. How could he tell DiNozzo that he had heard the talk with Ducky? "I forgot." Wrong answer, he realized when he saw the look on Tony's face, obviously not believing him. "I'll figure out the answer on my own. I always do and always will. Unless you want to tell me yourself?" he challenged.

Tony shook his head, and for a moment, he seemed to be lost in his mind, which was something he'd been doing now and then. There was a soft yet sad smile on his face, as he stared at something only he could see. Swallowing at the sight of that barely there smile, Gibbs couldn't help but compare it to any other smile he had seen on the man's face.

"DiNozzo?" No answer, and Gibbs was prepared to slap again. "Tony!"

Blinking, Tony finally snapped out of whatever reverie he had been in. "What? Ah... Right... The coffee."

Shaking his head, Gibbs let the case drop and went to the basement. Soon after, the smell of coffee filled the house and lured him out of his basement.

"Boss?" Tony gave Gibbs a funny look, since it was usually he who had to be called back to the land of the living. Gibbs glared at him as soon as he snapped out of it. "What did I do this time?"

"I didn't hate it," Gibbs finally said. "I wouldn't have minded if you had stayed longer."

"What?"

"Something wrong with your hearing, DiNozzo?"

"No... I can hear just fine."

"Good."

Tony waited for a while to see if Gibbs would keep talking, explain, but he wasn't surprised when he realized there would be no explanation.

Gibbs knew he should say something more when he saw the question on the former Detective's face, but it wasn't like he knew what to say. He didn't know why he felt so moody right now. He could hardly even admit to himself how much his house had started to feel like home during the weeks with the over grown kid living in there, even if it had been more than a little annoying at times. Well, a kid or a puppy; he wasn't always sure which one was more accurate... And secretly, he had even enjoyed their arguments. A part of him felt like he was betraying his family—Shannon and Kelly—for allowing himself to feel like it. Strangely, he felt so even more than with any of his ex-wives. Why? He wouldn't know what answer to give if someone asked.

When it seemed like the silence wasn't going to end soon, Tony said, even if it was mostly to end the awkwardness of it, "So... Danny called me the other day."

"And?" Gibbs had heard that DiNozzo's former partner was doing pretty good. Well, as good as one can do in the situation the man was in. Although there wasn't really anything the now former Detective could possibly give, somehow it had been still arranged that the man had been put in witness protection. He wasn't even given the chance to see or talk with DiNozzo before it. Gibbs was glad. Personally, he felt like Danny was that kid who, no matter how important to your own kid, just wasn't good company to keep around.

"And that's basically it. He's all right and has some new job and told me he met someone there. Doesn't regret choosing to do this and doesn't want me to feel bad for him, and gave me his best wishes. Short call. I bet he had written it down on paper or something. He didn't give me a chance to say anything in return." Tony didn't sound happy about it.

"At least you know he's doing okay."

Tony gave him a sharp look. "No I don't. For all I know, someone could have made him make that call with a gun held to his head."

"DiNozzo..."

"And don't say I'm overreacting."

"Wasn't gonna say that."

"Oh..."

"I'll try to get you some better proof that he's safe and doing okay."

"Thanks..." Tony muttered, feeling embarrassment coloring his cheeks. Dropping his gaze back to his now cold coffee, he rubbed his forehead, trying to ignore the beginning of a headache. Probably from all the reading he'd been doing lately.

He'd been trying to find out more about the Voltolini family and Teddy, but came up with nothing. Although Gibbs hadn't said anything, he was pretty sure the former Marine had tried doing the same thing without any results. For people with apparently quite a lot of power in their hands, there was nowhere near enough information. The name Voltolini was known well in the business world, but the family itself seemed much older than that. They were the elite, the old money; related to the other elite families in the world. Smaller branch in the old big fat tree of devils, but a part of it, nonetheless. And that was where the information ended, or at least the kind of information he needed to find out. On paper, the family was so clean and pure that it would put your general mega churches with their smiley Joels in the deepest possible shame. Everything was... too nice. Teddy, however... Tony was still pretty sure the man was FBI or some other undercover Agent gone bad, but so far the man didn't seem to even exist. Obviously, he didn't even know the man's real name and had no actual pictures of him, so it made things even more complicated.

Looking up from his coffee, Tony noticed that out of nowhere there had appeared a small wooden box on the table. Gibbs stared back, waiting, so he opened it. "This is..?"

"Told you I'll get you a new one."

Tony admired the knife. It was beautiful and couldn't have been cheap either. "You didn't have to."

"I keep my word, DiNozzo." Gibbs sounded strangely gruff. "If you're carrying a knife, it better be a good one."

Tony smiled and put the knife and box safely in his pocket. "Rule 9," he said without really thinking, and once again Gibbs could only stare at him, wondering just how much he knew. "Thanks. I'll take good care of it, boss."

"You better, or I'll kick your ass."

Tony flashed a smile and leaned back in his chair. "So tell me... Are you happy with the apartment I chose?"

"It'll do."

"Well, it better be good enough, after all the growling and glaring you did toward all those other places, before I had even set my foot in."

"Would you really have lived in that place surrounded by criminals, day and night? Or the one with the leaking roof, not to mention pipes? If you had told me you were looking for an apartment, you should've told me, DiNozzo. I could've helped you."

"And let you shoot down even more places?" Tony rolled his eyes just as his phone started ringing. "DiNozzo... Hey, Rachel! How's Mark?" His whole face lit up, but then he froze before he even heard the full answer, as it felt for a moment like he was again thrown back into that dream reality. It was like a slap in the face.

"Anthony... Tony, he's dead... He... He went on that usual fishing trip of his and... He... His heart... He was dead when they found him... Tony..."

Tony could barely hear the woman's broken voice as, for a moment, everything around him went black. He didn't pass out—DiNozzos don't pass out—but for a while his mind went completely blank. "I'm... I don't know what to... I'm so sorry, Rachel," he finally choked out the words, and the woman started sobbing again.

"Thank you, Tony... You know Mark really cared about you and... and..."

"I'll be there... Let me know if you need anything," Tony answered softly. They ended the call soon after that when Rachel obviously wasn't able to handle it any longer.

Gibbs looked at the pale young man, feeling concern. Hands shaking and with a shallow breath, the man looked like he could pass out any minute. "Who was it? You look like you're gonna pass out."

"DiNozzos don't pass out..."

Gibbs took the seat next to him, blocking the view in case anyone looked toward their table. "Talk to me." Gibbs shocked even himself with the gentle tone and his hand that he raised against the back of Tony's neck.

"Mark is dead..."

It took Gibbs a moment to realize which Mark Tony was talking about, since it wasn't an uncommon name. There were at least five at the Navy Yard alone. "Ah..." He had no idea what to say and just squeezed gently Tony's neck from where his hand still was. To his surprise, it seemed to have a calming effect, and Tony even leaned against the touch.

"I tried, Gibbs. I told him not to go fishing on his own. I told him... Why didn't he listen?"

"Sometimes... We can't stop things from happening. We can't save everyone."

Hearing the cries of a child in his memory, Tony closed his eyes. Sometimes he could still feel the heat of the burning hot flames all around him. Now was one of those times, and he opened his eyes as he shuddered. "I know."

While Tony wasn't paying any attention, Gibbs took out his wallet and put money on the table, more than enough to cover their coffee and sandwiches. "Come on. Let's go take a closer look at that new place of yours."

Tony stood up and gave him a weak smile. "You're only going to complain about everything." Gibbs gave him 'the look' and Tony dropped his gaze. "On it, boss."

By the time they were walking toward Tony's new home, Tony felt the weight of the world on his shoulders, but at the same time he still felt that strangely fresh air around him that had surrounded him since the morning. It took him a while to realize what it was. No, the air wasn't more fresh than usual in the city. It was the air of changes, and the air of the new beginning.

Chapter Text

Gibbs was ready to kill someone, but he wasn't sure if that meant himself, the Agent sitting behind the desk, the Director for forcing him to take yet another Agent or Tony for being late. Few more months and it would be two years. Two years since he had been working with DiNozzo, and although he had more than once lost his nerves over the young man's antics, he wouldn't change him for anyone or anything. He was worried, though... They were around the timeline where the former Detective usually left the town, which was why he had been lately even more of a bastard.

"Hey! I asked for some results two hours ago!" His annoyed bark startled the Agent sitting behind her desk.

Vivian Blackadder's eyes threw flames at her boss, or she would have if she could. She had tried and done her best at work, but for some reason her boss seemed to hate her, despite the rumors that Agent Gibbs had a thing for women with red hair. Oh, she had a red hair indeed, and maybe during the first day or so her boss did give her a couple of once-overs, but that was where it ended. She no longer wondered why all his agents ended up begging for a transfer or even changed careers. All but one that is...

As if hearing her thoughts, the elevator made the 'ding ' sound and one Very Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo—as he called himself—entered the bullpen. Because his attention was elsewhere, for a moment it looked like he was about to stumble, but he regained his balance. "I come bearing gifts!" Tony flashed his trademark smile as he put coffee and a small paper bag on each of their desks. For Gibbs, it was two big mugs. With Gibbs, when it came to his coffee, the size did matter.

"You're way over an hour late," Vivian snapped. She didn't even look at or touch the food and coffee.

Gibbs was starting to cool down, as most of his attention was on the coffee, which he grabbed as soon as it touched his desk. "You're late, DiNozzo."

"Sorry, boss. My car broke down. Won't happen again."

"You better make sure it won't," Gibbs said gruffly, and just like so many other times, Vivian couldn't help but think how she would have gotten a public dressing down for being late. No matter what the reason, or how good the coffee that she would bring. After trying that trick herself for that one now infamous time, she had given up. Apparently she couldn't even bring the right coffee and that mistake had only made things worse, until their SFA got some new coffee for them, which of course had been just right and perfect, making their boss happy again.

"And how is your morning, dear Viv?" Tony grinned, having noticed the deathly glare the woman threw at him. She had always been one of the few women to not fall for his charm, claiming he reminded her of her brother or something... Then again, having spent enough weeks with her and having those memories from his dream, he honestly didn't even want to go into full flirting mode with her.

It had taken almost one full year before he had started to be able to start living his life again, without his dream giving him as hard time as it did during the first year. Sure, he still got flashbacks here and there, daily, but they weren't strong enough to pull him under anymore, which would have been rather bothersome and dangerous had he been working in the field while in the middle of one of those. While he had managed to change some things from the way it had been in his dream, too many ended up happening anyway. More often than not, it was the human nature that did it. He could change events, but he couldn't change the people against their will. That was something he just had to accept and let go, but he wasn't sure if he could.

"Was better before you showed up."

"Ouch. That hurt." Tony chuckled, completely unfazed by the snarky and mean-spirited comment, which only served to make the redhead angrier.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs said, and Tony sat down behind his desk.

"On it, boss."

Vivian shook her head, bemused. She never understood how those two men seemed to be able to read each other's minds and often when they did talk out loud, it was as if in some language only they understood. She had heard from other people how it was already legendary after they had been working together for only a year or so.

"Ah. Before I forget..." Tony stood up, and walking to Gibbs' desk, he dropped a few papers on it. "I found out our suspect number four isn't who she claims to be. There are several aliases, but I don't know yet which one is the real one. Still no picture of her anywhere, though. For all we know, we could be looking for a man dressing up as a woman. Wouldn't be the first time."

Gibbs stared at him curiously for a moment and then nodded. "What are you waiting for, then? Find out."

"I'm already on it." Tony returned to his desk and had someone looked at Gibbs now, they would have seen on his face a small smile that was proud and slightly amused.

"How did you do that?" Vivian grumbled. She had tried finding new information since last night, without any results. As far as she could see, DiNozzo hadn't done a whole lot.

With a huge and dazzling DiNozzo smile on his face, Tony answered, "Work smarter, not harder, Viv darling."

"That's bull—"

"If you two have time for arguments, then you must not be busy enough?" Gibbs questioned with a threatening tone of voice, making it clear that he would get them plenty of more work to do.

"If he'd just—"

"Working, boss," Tony said cheerfully, despite the deathly glare thrown toward him. Man... The woman had been in an awful mood for a couple of days now. Must be that time of the month...

Gibbs' ringing phone interrupted the work, and after answering it he gave his usual grunted reply, as he stood up. "Gear up. We've got a fourth victim."

Tony was following Gibbs before the man had even finished with the phone call, and Vivian followed them, after taking the coffee with her.

"Clear!" Tony shouted as he made sure the kitchen in the house was empty. He heard the same word repeated by both Gibbs and Blackadder.

"There's no one here. Haven't been for a while," Tony heard Vivian saying as he joined the other two.

"Boss."

"Found anything?"

"Only the body. There's something strange about it, but I don't know what... Maybe when Ducky gets to look at it, we'll find out why."

Gibbs nodded. "He should be almost here. Get to work, you two."

Holding his camera, Tony walked away with Vivian. "Wanna bet our victim wasn't killed here?"

"You heard the boss. Get to work." Vivian rolled her eyes and hid her amusement at the way DiNozzo pouted. How could one grown man be such a child?

They made it so far as to the bedroom door when Tony heard a sound. It was so faint, no one else had heard it. Turning around sharply, his hawk eyes scanned the room, windows and doors. "Gun!"

Gibbs had been following his agents when DiNozzo suddenly turned around, looking rather paranoid. He was about to bark out his annoyance, but then the Agent opened his mouth to shout. He had no chance to see and barely even heard anything as the heavy mass of his SFA fell on him, making them both fall hard on the floor just as the shooting began. Taking cover, they returned the fire.

"We need to get closer. Viv. Cover me. Vivian!" Tony turned to look at his partner and he froze to the spot. Vivian Blackadder sat awkwardly slumped on the floor, with her back against the wall next to the bedroom door. Her eyes were half-open, and she was covered in her own blood, as was the wall behind her. Tony stood up slowly, staring without really seeing. Instead of the redhead, he saw Kate. It was like living again your worst nightmare, and the hole in her face was mocking him.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs yelled, and he pulled Tony down, barely in time to stop him from getting shot. He too only then saw their partner, with a hole right between her eyes. There was almost surprised look on her face. As much as he felt bad for Blackadder, Gibbs knew he would've felt much worse if this had been Tony instead of her. He wasn't sure what that said about him. He looked away and saw that Tony's face was white as a sheet, and he started to show obvious signs of shock.

"Now isn't the time to pass out, DiNozzo!" Gibbs barked and flinched when another bullet flew right past them. Pulling the other man with him to get better cover, he gave a head-slap, wincing at the sound. Doctors might not be too happy with his way of dealing with DiNozzo, but the man wasn't just anyone. Normal methods didn't seem to work on him. That was one of the things Gibbs had learned about DiNozzo early on. Although maybe it should worry him more how Tony reacted to an act of violence, no matter how small, and often smiling at his boss after one of those slaps.

Gibbs was relieved when Tony finally blinked and was seemingly all right. He watched the man clearly pulling out some of his undercover personas, and he thought how interesting it would've been to know what went through his head. He would probably never get tired of seeing DiNozzo do this, and he doubted most people would even be able to notice that moment when it happened.

Few deep breaths later, Tony opened his eyes again, without showing any signs of his previous condition. Holding up his gun with a steady hand, he nodded. "I'm good, boss. Cover me, and I'll take down the bastard."

Gibbs opened his mouth to protest and point out that he was the boss here, maybe even give another head-slap, but the idiot was already on his way out. Cursing strongly under his breath, Gibbs almost flew forward to the door and returned the fire toward their shooter. Not a moment too soon, the shooting stopped. He worried when there was no immediate sign of Tony anywhere.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs called out, feeling fear running through his veins when he got no answer. Hesitating only for a moment, he carefully made his way outside, holding his left side where one of the bullets had nicked him.

"I'm all right, boss," Tony finally answered, stepping out from behind their car. There was a dark look on his face when he met Gibbs halfway to the house. When he saw Gibbs, his eyes widened. "You've been shot!"

"I'm fine. The bullet barely even touched me. I've had paper cuts that are worse than this. Apparently you've had even worse than that, if your dramatics have any truth in them."

Rolling his eyes and seeing the truth in the older man's eyes, Tony relaxed, but not without a glare thrown toward the car.

"Our shooter?" Gibbs had to ask, although he knew the answer even before he asked, since he had seen the look on DiNozzo's face.

"Not a problem anymore," Tony muttered.

Gibbs decided not to ask whether he had first asked the shooter to surrender before shooting. This might after all have been an important case-related bad guy they had here. Dead bad guy now.

As if hearing Gibbs' thoughts, Tony said, "He had two guns and I swear he could've shot me too had he wanted, while still shooting at you. Didn't give me a chance to say two words to him."

Gibbs relaxed, hearing that, and watched a little warily as Tony checked his gun before finally putting it away. There were rare moments like this one where he felt almost nervous, seeing his SFA holding a weapon. Almost, because he wasn't one of those people who got nervous. "Where is he?"

Tony smiled unhappily. "Behind our car, so don't be surprised to see a bunch of holes in it. The car, I mean."

Gibbs swore the moment he actually noticed their car. "That's gonna be so much paperwork again..."

"You tell me," Tony said dryly, since it was usually he who did most of their paperwork. Not that he complained too much. It just was faster if he did it himself. He wasn't simply joking around whenever he gave people his trademark 'work smarter, not harder '. He had his system, and it worked. Of course, he could teach that system to others, but... It was his system. No one else smart enough gave away their secrets of work and business, so why should he, only to find out he'd been used again... Maybe he could teach those secrets to the kids when he retired and started his own special 101 law enforcement classes... The DiNozzo method, because why not go all the way and piss off all the future Gibbses and Directors... Maybe add some footnote to it that said something like, 'not to be associated with Anthony DiNozzo, the Senior '... It was quite intriguing idea and one he'd been giving some serious thought since before waking up from or into the coma, whichever it was.

Walking around the car, Gibbs stopped. Looking at their shooter on the ground and then at Tony, he couldn't stop that half-smirk of his. "I thought you said you killed him."

"I never said that." Tony shrugged and then he grinned. "Wasn't it one of your own rules to never assume?"

"Being a smart ass with me, DiNozzo?" Gibbs raised his hand and when Tony closed his eyes for the head-slap he thought he'd get, Gibbs brushed his fingers gently through the soft hair at the back of the young man's head. "Attaboy."

Tony blinked and as Gibbs turned away from him, he suddenly had a hard time stopping himself from completely forgiving everything the 'dream Gibbs' had done. He was almost ready to throw away his current carefulness, all because of some petting on his head and an attaboy? Man, he was such a loser...

"Good job, DiNozzo," Gibbs said, looking at their shooter. The man was passed out, but so far in no obvious danger, and Gibbs found himself admiring the two perfect holes in each of the man's arms. Talk about disarming someone.

The sound of another car coming there made them look up again.

"Duck! Took you long enough."

"Good heavens, Jethro," Ducky said the moment he stepped out of the car. He made his way to Gibbs, who took a step back when his old friend got a little too close for his comfort.

"It's not as bad as it looks. This guy here has it worse than I do. Tried to kill us, and he did kill Blackadder, so I'd say he got less than what he deserves."

Ducky looked shocked. "Oh, Jethro. I am so—"

"Later, Ducky," Gibbs interrupted, throwing careful glances toward Tony, whose features had darkened the moment Gibbs mentioned Vivian.

"I understand," Duck said. Meaning, he and Gibbs would talk about this later. After tending Gibbs and leaving Gerald to take care of the shooter, Ducky made his way toward the house where both bodies were.

"Oh dear... You poor girl," Ducky sighed, seeing Blackadder first when he stepped inside the house. It never became easier when they lost one of their own people.

"I almost lost it."

Ducky nearly jumped, hearing the voice out of nowhere. The boy was just as bad as Jethro, sneaking around, if he truly wanted to, or forgot not to be. "Anthony... Do me a favor, would you? Do not sneak on me like that. My poor old heart doesn't take it too well." He chuckled, but Tony only frowned.

"Sorry..." Tony mumbled and this time his hands actually did tremble before he got into his work mode, holding the camera as he started taking pictures. "Seeing Viv like that... I saw her... I still do."

"Her?"

"You don't know her. Maybe you will, or maybe you won't... Her name was Kate, although you called her Caitlin. In my dream, she was killed just like that." Tony pointed at his now dead partner on the floor. "She was laughing with us after surviving another gunshot, before being shot in the head. I had her blood all over me. Her blood and... and that."

Seeing how agitated his young friend was starting to become, Ducky took hold of Tony's arm, stopping him from taking another picture. "Anthony, my dear boy... Perhaps you should go home? Jethro is wounded, so maybe you could call for another team?"

Setting his mouth into a tight line, Tony shook his head. There was no way they'd hand over the case to anyone else after working weeks on it, and now this. Neither he nor Gibbs would be willing to do that. "No. I'm good."

"Anthony..."

"I'm fine."

No other words were shared, and they went back to their work. That's how Gerald found them once he joined them. "Tony, Gibbs told me to tell you to go back to Navy Yard with us once we're done. He's taking the guy with him to a hospital." Gerald looked somewhat uncomfortable and worried. Maybe for the bad guy, who would be left alone with Gibbs and no one to see if something happened.

Tony nodded. He was almost done anyway.

"Now, this is interesting..." Ducky suddenly said, getting their full attention.

"What is that?" Gerald wondered.

Walking closer to their original reason for being there, the first dead body in the house, Tony leaned to look at it over Ducky's shoulder. It looked like someone had done some surgery on their victim's stomach, after she was dead. Not to mention, the work done on her was not pretty.

Ducky confirmed what they all could already see. "It looks like it was done shortly after this poor woman was killed. I'm afraid, however, that I cannot say more until I cut it open, so let's finish the work here and leave."

Not much later, Tony followed after Ducky and Gerald as they carried the dead body to their car, where Blackadder's body already was. He had a nagging feeling of uneasiness at the back of his mind and the longer the time went, his gut went almost wild. He couldn't take his eyes off their victim. Clenching and unclenching his fists, Tony suddenly decided to take the risk of becoming a fool, instead of taking the chance of being right and not having done anything when he could.

"Run!" he yelled, grabbing the arms of the two bemused men and forcing them to run with him away from the car where the two bodies were. They had barely made it far enough, when suddenly the car exploded.

Sitting heavily on the ground, Tony let out a shuddering breath. Just one moment longer of hesitation and they'd be all... One very short moment of hesitation was all it could've taken.

Gerald looked pale and terrified.

Ducky was the first one to speak. "Oh dear..."

Chapter Text

There were agents guarding at the door, and the patient was handcuffed to the bed. As bad as it had looked at the crime scene, their shooter was doing pretty well. Much better than what Gibbs had been hoping for, and he almost wished Tony had indeed 'finished the job'. Since there had been so far no way to identify the man, and there was no guarantee that the picture of his face in a computer would give them anything either, that's what he was being called as at the moment; 'the man', and not in a flattering manner. Gibbs himself had some much more colorful ways of addressing him. He could be shockingly creative when he really wanted to be.

"You're finally awake," he said as he entered the room. The man glared at him, but Gibbs had no problem facing it without blinking an eye, and soon enough it was the one in bed who blinked first. Gibbs took the only chair in the room and sat down on it, knowingly making even that look intimidating. He studied the man silently and was pleased to notice that his silence was starting to make the bastard nervous. The man looked like he might be from the Middle East, which didn't make a whole lot of sense how he'd have anything to do with their case. Unless this was now a whole new case altogether, and they just happened to walk right into it.

"Who are you?" Gibbs finally demanded after a long and agonizing silence. He wasn't surprised when he got no answer. "Hey! I'm talking to you!" That made the man flinch. Trying to calm his constant anger and to keep down his urge to shoot the man, Gibbs took a deep breath before speaking again. "Do you speak English? Do you understand English?" It had barely been there, but his trained eyes saw the answer on the man's face. "So you do understand me. Good. Now, I'll ask one more time. Who. Are. You?"

The occupant of the bed laughed humorlessly, which was cut short when Gibbs finally lost it and hit the bed with his fist. "Answer me!"

One of the agents opened the door and looked inside the room cautiously, but seeing as both the criminal and Agent Gibbs were doing just fine, he closed the door.

With a sigh, Gibbs ran a hand over his face. This case had taken its toll on him, and although he would have been more than happy to get rid of Blackadder, her death wasn't something he had wanted. Not literally. Not only did she die, but he or DiNozzo could have very well ended up dead as well. Now that he thought about it... Tony would have been the first one to get shot, had he not jumped on him. Had Tony taken the first bullet, Blackadder might still be alive. Gibbs prayed in his mind that the kid wouldn't realize it. However, after almost two years of working together, he knew that the thought was bound to find its way inside DiNozzo's head also. Knowing just how easily the young man took blame on himself over things that were not his fault, Gibbs was suddenly in a hurry to finish this business and get to the Navy Yard.

Standing up, he stepped closer to the bed. The man in there stared back at him with a sneer as he was hovering there without a word. After a long silence, a dark smirk rose on Gibbs' face. All right then. If the bastard wanted to play it this way... Just as Gibbs was about to say something, his phone rang. He tried ignoring it for a moment, but answered it finally when it just kept ringing. "Gibbs... What! I'm on my way." He finished the call and ran a hand over his head, cursing silently. He should have never left the crime scene. So close... It had been so close again.

Looking at the man in bed again, Gibbs said, with an edge to his voice, "I find out you had anything to do with this, you will pray that my Agent had killed you. Do you understand?"

The man chose that moment to play ignorant or deaf and averted his eyes. Leaning closer, Gibbs pressed his hand hard over the closest injured arm, and the man gasped in pain, despite the pain meds he was on. "Do. You. Understand?" He squeezed with each word, and finally he heard the first spoken word coming from the man's mouth.

"Yes. I understand," the man snarled in his broken English.

"Good. I'll be back, and then we will talk some more." Gibbs let go of the arm and left the room. Although Ducky had told him they were all just fine, thanks to DiNozzo, he wouldn't be able to get his peace of mind unless he saw them with his own two eyes. "Keep guarding him," he said to the agents.

As he walked toward the elevators, one of the nurses walked past him. During some other time, he would have noticed something was off about her, but right now his mind was too occupied with other things, and so they both went on their own way.

Her eyes didn't look left nor right as she kept walking. She kept her face low enough and made herself look busy, so that in the already busy area full of people, no one really paid any attention to her. She stopped at the door and let the agents guarding there check her ID and the female Agent checked to see if she was carrying any weapons et cetera. The usual thing. Those had been the orders given by Agent Gibbs. Not finding anything suspicious, they allowed the nurse to enter the room.

The man in bed looked up, and seeing the woman, he became agitated. She only smiled and walked closer to cover his mouth with her gloved hand. Leaning closer, she whispered in his ear, while her other hand pulled out something from her hair. The man let out a muffled cry as he felt that something stabbing him. He was drugged and weak, one of his wounded hands cuffed to the bed, and there was a hand stopping him from screaming for help. He didn't struggle for very long.

Only a few minutes later, the nurse left the room, the agents barely giving her a second glance. Her work there was done.

Storming into the morgue, Gibbs finally let himself relax when he saw Ducky and Tony in one piece and alive. Breathing. He didn't see Gerald though. "What happened?"

"Ah. Jethro. Now that was fast. Too fast. How many speed limits did you break this time to get here so soon?" Ducky tutted. He was hands deep in what seemed to be human remains of some sort. Surprisingly, Tony was also wearing scrubs, and he gave Gibbs a sheepish look as he was in the middle of holding something that Gibbs wasn't even going to try to guess what it was or rather what it used to be.

"DiNozzo? What do you—"

"Jethro. I hope you don't mind that I am borrowing young Anthony here. I'm afraid I need the extra hands."

"Well, where's Gerald then?" Gibbs growled half-heartedly. Tony and Ducky shared a look.

"Gerald..." Tony started. How to say it without saying too much? He liked Gerald and knew the man would not thank him if he did. Any normal person would freak out after almost dying in a bomb explosion, right?

Ducky took over the explanation. "The poor boy did not take it too well, so I ordered him to go home."

Gibbs nodded and looked closely for the first time at what had to be the remains of their victim and Blackadder's body. Just what they needed. Now they didn't even have a body to give to her family... "So exactly how did this happen?"

Tony shrugged. "Ducky saw someone had done surgery on our victim's stomach area. Turns out there was a bomb hidden inside her. We had to call for another team to help us out. That reminds me... Director wants to talk to you as soon as possible."

"How did that go unnoticed?!" Gibbs barked without thinking. He was thinking about all the possible worse case scenarios. The 'what ifs'. Looking at the autopsy table where the remains were, a cold chill ran through his body when he realized that Ducky, Tony, and Gerald could be there right now. Had things gone any differently, he would be looking at their remains. He himself could be there.

"Well, excuse me if none of us mere mortals have the ability to see inside the human bodies with our bare eyes," Tony said calmly.

Gibbs felt that awful feeling of guilt creeping over his shoulder, but he pushed it away for now. "You aren't hurt?"

"Oh, we are just fine, Jethro. And may I add, I said it and not Anthony." Ducky chuckled, making Tony roll his eyes. After almost two years of working here, most people there were familiar with what the words 'I'm fine' coming from his mouth meant. He made a big deal about being sick or hurt? Ignore it. He was 'fine'? Call the ambulance and clear the way for quick access.

"Ducky..." Gibbs wasn't amused.

"A few bruises and scrapes and slight ringing in our ears, that is all," Ducky assured and cleaned up one of the bones. He and Tony hadn't stopped working even after Gibbs had showed up. "Although I must say that without our Anthony here, we would not be talking now. His gut feelings are rivaling yours, Jethro."

"Is that so?" Gibbs said, although he had learned that a long time ago. Having been working side by side with the young man for as long as he had, he couldn't have not noticed it.

Tony looked uncomfortable, and he shrugged awkwardly. "I just had this feeling that wouldn't leave me alone... I could've been wrong."

"Or you could've been right, which you were," Gibbs returned, glaring daggers, which made the man grin for some reason. "Does Abby know what's been happening today?"

Tony's grin disappeared, and he shook his head. She would be pissed off for sure and then cling to him whenever she could, like an octopus. His whole body was far too sore from the explosion, so he really didn't think he could handle it right now.

Gibbs' lips twisted into that half-smile of his when they heard someone running toward the room. "You really thought you could keep this from her? You know she keeps up with anything going on in the Navy Yard, and not all of them are gossips."

Tony sighed. "Not really..."

Storming into the room on her dangerously high heels, one could only wonder how she managed to not hurt herself. She was yelling as soon as she saw them, her voice already hoarse, "Why didn't anyone tell me!"

"Abigail..."

"Abby..."

"Abbs..."

"Don't Abby me! Why do I have to hear from Agent Hill—who heard from Agent Nelson from the Evans' team, who heard from one of the computer geeks—that you guys almost died today! Twice! And that Viv is dead! I mean, sure, she was never my favorite, but I'd never want her dead. I mean, not literally... Oh, now I feel so bad for threatened to kill her and leave no evidence, and now she really is dead! And... Why didn't you tell me!"

"Abby! Breathe!" Gibbs hugged the trembling goth. Trembling from fear or rage, he didn't know. Maybe a little of both.

"I apologize, dear Abigail. We should have come to you, but instead we got caught up in the work." Ducky smiled sadly.

Abby hugged her Bossman, before stepping back. Turning around, she pointed her finger at Tony. "And you, mister! What reason do you have!?"

Tony smiled sheepishly and held up his gloved hands when Abby started approaching him. "Uh... I was helping Ducky. Wait! Blood, Abby! I'm covered in blood and... other... stuff. Remains. Human."

Glancing at the autopsy table with the body remains, Abby's eyes were filled with big fat tears, and she stepped closer. Ignoring the blood and everything, she hugged the fidgety Senior Field Agent.

Tony sighed, and after taking the gloves off, he wrapped his arms around the now crying woman.

When his phone started ringing, sharing a look with Ducky, Gibbs walked outside the room. "Gibbs." The smile on his face fell off. "Poisoned! I didn't leave agents guarding him so anyone could just waltz in and murder our suspect!" Listening to the stuttering at the other end, Gibbs felt like throwing his phone against the wall. He felt extremely short-tempered right now. After another few heated words and orders, he ended the call, and then he threw the phone against the wall, breaking it into pieces.

Leaning against the wall, Gibbs ran a hand over his face, which was something he had done a bit too often lately. Now he wondered about this latest mystery. Unlike the other three bodies, this one had been in the middle of nowhere and the caller wasn't there when they arrived at the scene. A man with a gun tried to kill them, and then someone killed him. A bomb inside their victim. He didn't believe in coincidences, and he wasn't going to start now. Rule 39.

Peeking inside the room and observing the three closest people, alive, in his life standing there, Gibbs made up his mind. If someone was after him, then he wasn't going to let that someone hurt those he cared about. And if it was simply a case where they had gotten too close... Could he take that kind of risk? Gibbs sighed, watching as Abby slapped Tony's arm and then wrapped her arms around him again, then Tony begging for help from Ducky, who only smiled and started telling a story of what this reminded him of. DiNozzo would be after his head if he'd ever find out, but he would never again take the chance of losing anyone else because he hadn't done anything...

"I'll be with the Director," Gibbs said as he stepped inside the room again. "Abby, let them finish the job."

"But Gibbs..." Abby was pouting.

"Abby."

"Yes sir, Bossman, sir." Abby sighed dramatically, letting Tony finally free from her death grip, much to his relief.

Gibbs smiled at her. "DiNozzo."

"Boss?"

"Once you're done here, go home."

"Boss..."

"We all need some rest. Come back in the morning and not a minute late."

"Got it..." Tony stared after Gibbs' retreating back. He knew that look on the older man's face. He knew it too well and no matter how good Gibbs was hiding it from anyone else, which he was, seeing how both Ducky and Abby seemed to be completely ignorant. "If I let him do this to me again..." he muttered under his breath.

"Anthony?" Ducky said as Tony pulled another pair of gloves on, with a somewhat angry snap.

"Nothing. Where were we?"

Chapter Text

By the time Gibbs returned to the bullpen, it was late. Most people had left the building and those who still remained, were on their way out. Only DiNozzo was still sitting behind his desk, wearing his spare clothing and working.

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs barked. He was surprised when the man didn't even flinch.

Putting down the paperwork, Tony leaned back in his chair. He kept the look on his face neutral, like a clean paper. So clean that even Gibbs wouldn't be able to read him, no matter how good he was at reading him lately. "Yes, boss?"

"Didn't I tell you to go home?"

"You did."

"Then what are you still doing here?"

"Working."

"DiNozzo..."

Tony sighed and stood up. "Boss... Here's the thing; I won't be played. I've had enough of that to last several lifetimes. I won't be pushed aside when, as your partner, I'm supposed to watch your six. If you start doing some needless one-man missions here, I'm out. Unless you have your orders to not say anything, I won't tolerate it. So either we both do our work or I'll go up there and ask for a transfer. I assume Morrow is still in his office."

"What are you talking about?"

Tony let the blank look on his face fade away for a moment and showed Gibbs his, 'don't mess with me,' look. "I know, boss."

"You know?"

"I know," Tony repeated, and then turned the monitor on his desk so that Gibbs saw what he'd been working on. It was the security footage from the hospital. "I spoke to the agents who were guarding our suspect at the hospital. Imagine my surprise."

"DiNozzo..." Gibbs growled.

"So don't mess with me. What's going on?"

Gibbs sat down behind his desk. He was torn between feeling angry at DiNozzo for doing this and then feeling proud of him for doing this, even succeeding without trouble as it seemed. "Figured I'd be keeping you safe this way," he finally admitted.

"Keeping me safe? Boss... You know our job—"

"I know. But I realized we were lured to that crime scene, in the middle of nowhere, so that we could be taken down. We already lost Blackadder and then almost the three of you. If this happened because someone wants to get back at me..."

"You're an idiot."

Gibbs' eyebrows went up with that. Few people were brave enough to talk like that to him, and even less got away with it. DiNozzo was one of them. "You asking for a head-slap?"

"No... Listen. You're an idiot. If it's true and someone wants to hurt you by killing people you're close to, then do you honestly think sending me home will keep me any safer? If anything, I'll be in even more danger than at work where I would not only be armed, but with a partner watching my six."

Gibbs actually looked startled, and his whole form slumped in the chair. DiNozzo was right. "Didn't think that far," he reluctantly admitted.

"Of course you didn't."

"Hey!" Gibbs growled affectionately and beckoned Tony to move closer, which the young man did, although hesitating. Standing up, Gibbs held his arm over Tony's shoulders, squeezing the other shoulder. "You're right."

"I am?" Tony grinned. The head-slap wasn't unexpected, but the soft caressing of his head after that was.

"But if you tell anyone, I will deny it and bring you down with me." He shook his head as he thought how, to almost anyone else, he wouldn't even admit such a mistake. He didn't get things wrong, because that didn't do good to his reputation. Looking at the monitor with the frozen picture from the security footage, Gibbs had a hazy memory of walking by a nurse as he left the hospital. "So, how did you get it so fast? I've had a hard time getting anyone at the hospital to cooperate with me."

"Some ass kissing now and then will get you far, boss," Tony pointed out smoothly. "Works better than threatening to kill people. For the normal people anyway. Honey for the normies, and bitter vinegar for the crazies."

"Smart-ass. Nice and pretty little nurse helped out? Or a female doctor?"

"Hey! I'm insulted. Why couldn't it be male?"

Gibbs stared at him. "Something I need to know, DiNozzo?"

"What..?" Tony sputtered. "You know that's not what I meant!"

"I know. Was talking about how you always have your way with women. Figured you're starting to lose your charm and had to give up charming your way around."

"Very funny. It was a very nice nurse, Isabel, who has her own special way of getting what she wants."

"Oh really?"

"Boss..." Tony ran a hand over his face. "I'm really not in the mood for word plays here... Haven't slept for over 24 hours."

Gibbs smirked. "Well? Did you find anything useful?"

Tony frowned. "Nothing so far... She obviously knew her way around and knew where the cameras were. That's the best picture of her. I'll keep trying to see if I can get a better one, but so far all we have is a picture of her back and hair, which could very well be a wig or something. Those agents are useless too. They can hardly remember her, each one of them giving a very different description."

"How is that possible?"

Tony smirked. "Let's just say that they were busy watching something else instead of her face. So I'd say that Agent Parker's description would be the most accurate. She did also search the woman for any weapons and such."

Gibbs nodded. He was feeling frustrated, but they were both also starting to feel the lack of sleep by now. "Well, let's go home for now, both of us."

"Boss..."

"And you're staying with me."

"Got it, boss." Tony smiled hesitantly. Glancing once more at the unknown nurse on the screen, he turned off his computer and cleaned the desk. Taking his things, he hurried after Gibbs, who was already in the elevator, holding the doors open for him.

- DREAM -

He looked around and felt cold. The darkness around him was strangely creepy, and reminded him of the times from his childhood, all alone in a big old mansion, in his big and scary room where darkness made things even more difficult when he believed there were monsters all over the room. And his huge bed... To this day, he hated canopy beds.

Sitting up on his bed, when he thought he had heard something, Tony shivered again. It really was so cold. Hearing it again, he stood up, taking his gun with him.

Opening the door, he peeked outside the guest room and swallowed at the darkness waiting in there. The darkness became overpowering the moment he left the room. It felt like billions of dark hands were all over him, touching him. That's when he realized, with much horror, that the darkness was alive, and it was whispering to him all the things that scared him.

With much difficulty, he made it downstairs. Feeling as if someone was pulling him backward, he had to give his all to slowly keep moving forward. Then he stopped halfway down the stairs. If the darkness had been dark before, then what was waiting him down there was something even more sinister; a bubbling sea of darkness. He had no other way of describing it. Wanting nothing more than to hide away and maybe even cry a little, Tony kept moving forward until he was downstairs. Stumbling, he dropped his gun and watched with almost fascination how the darkness opened its dark mouth and swallowed it.

"Boss..?" Tony was shocked by how small his voice sounded when he spoke. He even felt small. Touching his face, he was pretty sure that his face felt soft, smooth and slightly round, like a child's. "Hello..?" he whispered, and then he heard it again, the sound that woke him up; something breaking against the floor. A plate maybe? Then he saw it, a hint of light, in the middle of the darkness. Desperate to get there, Tony started running. Or he would have if he could, but instead he moved in slow motion. Reaching out, he was able to get hold of the door frame, and somehow he managed to pull himself inside the room. Free from the hold of the darkness, his body felt light, and he could move normally.

Looking around the bright room, Tony noticed that he was in the kitchen. All the kitchen cabinet doors had been opened and on the floor there was a growing pile of broken plates and glass. He spotted Gibbs' favorite cup among the shards and felt pity.

"Boss?" he said, seeing there was someone standing in the kitchen, head inside the cabinet and pulling out endless amounts of plates and then dropping them on the floor. Hearing Tony's voice, the person stopped and closed the cabinet door, turned around to face him, and then smiled at him.

"Hello, Tony."

Gasping for his breath, Tony sat up on his bed. His T-shirt was wet from sweating, and he felt cold. He rarely saw those crazy dreams of his anymore—compared to how for a while it was almost a nightly thing—and this went on his top list of craziness. He'd figured out it usually meant his subconsciousness was trying to tell him something, but with dreams as crazy as that... He could hardly even want to start analyzing it over.

Shivering from the cold, Tony left the bed to get another blanket, when he noticed that the bedroom window was wide open. He knew he hadn't opened it, and he knew Gibbs wouldn't be opening it either. Not when the nights were cold, and especially not the window in his room. With the dream still fresh in his mind, Tony hesitated when he walked closer to the window, taking his gun with him just in case... Looking out, he saw a dark figure running away from the house. Without a second thought, he climbed outside and somehow made it safely to the ground.

"Hey! Stop!" he yelled as he was running after the dark figure. Running outside in the darkness and without shoes or even socks on wasn't the most exciting thing to do. Although he was good at running, but with nothing covering his bare feet and still somewhat groggy from the sleep and crazy dream, Tony was having a hard time keeping up with the unknown person who had already enough distance between the two of them. Ignoring the slight pain and cold shooting up from his feet, he ran faster. For a moment, he thought he was catching up, but then the darkly dressed person turned around the next corner and disappeared.

Meanwhile, Gibbs sat in his basement drinking bourbon. Almost as soon as they had made it to his house, DiNozzo had fallen asleep in the guest room bed. It still bothered him how the young Agent never came over unless he told him to come, and sometimes not even then. Usually, he had to order him to come. Didn't matter that he had given the man an open invitation, a rare thing when it was coming from him. Really, what was wrong with his place..?

The sound of the front door opening made Gibbs look up, and as little as he cared about his own safety to keep the door locked, he had a guest, so his hand went automatically to his weapon. He listened to the footsteps and relaxed when they were coming to him. Seeing his Senior Field Agent, covered in sweat and some dirt, sure wasn't what he thought he'd be seeing. "What are you doing up? You look like crap."

"Thanks, boss. You always know the right words." Tony sat tiredly next to Gibbs on the floor, taking the offered bottle of bourbon and drinking from it before handing it back.

"How come I didn't hear you going out?"

"I used the window." Seeing Gibbs', 'try again,' look, Tony sighed. "Really. I did."

"Door too easy for you?"

"Wish it was just that... This may sound weird, but did you open the window in my room?"

"Of course not."

"Thought so... Boss... I think someone was in my room, or at least tried to get in, using the guest room window. Don't ask me why that window of all others. Maybe he or she didn't know that you don't keep your door locked. That's kind of funny, actually."

Gibbs was up on his feet by the time Tony had finished saying 'someone was in my room '. "Why didn't you tell me sooner?!"

"Maybe because I was busy chasing the suspect down the street."

"Well?"

"Didn't get him. Was too far and too dark to see enough to tell anything useful. I swear, it was like trying to catch some ninja. Went around the corner and poof." Tony gestured with his hands. "Vanished into thin air. I did try to look for some clues, but doing that in the dark while I'm not exactly at my best... Well, let's just say it didn't work out." He glanced at his knees, which were peeking through his ruined pants. Actually, the pants that Gibbs always gave him to wear when he stayed over. "I'll buy you new pants... Sorry, boss."

"You're not buying me anything. Knowing you, I'll end up with some Gutsi pants... Didn't you just lecture me about letting you watch my back?"

"Gutsi... They're not..." Tony rolled his eyes. "Sorry. There wasn't any time. Won't happen again."

"You bet it won't." Gibbs, blaming it on the alcohol later, pulled the shivering young man into a hug and sighed, hugging a little tighter for a moment and thinking how badly things could have ended.

"Um... Boss?" Tony felt uncomfortable, and Gibbs let go, tapping the back of Tony's head with his hand.

"Go take a hot shower. I'll bring you something else to wear."

"On it, boss..."

Once Tony was gone, Gibbs rushed into the guest room. Without touching the window, he saw that it had indeed been forcefully opened from the outside. Taking out his phone, he pressed one of the speed dials. "I know what time it is, Tom, but we have a situation at my place. Might need a little help while the trails are still hot and fresh..."

Chapter Text

After he woke his Director, the man hadn't asked too many questions before sending a team to his house, which was the reason Gibbs now stood at the front door and observed the people working in and around his house. He quenched his irritation at the sight of them all, roaming around his place and touching his things. It was a necessary evil, he kept reminding himself, to find any trails from where their mysterious intruder had disappeared.

So much for getting any sleep last night, Gibbs mused as he took another sip of his hot coffee. At least he didn't have to tell the people to not touch his coffee, almost everyone very much aware how strong the stuff was. Then there was the fear factor, which usually helped.

"Agent Gibbs..." Gibbs watched in amusement as the young and very nervous Agent was trying to obviously somehow tell him to move away from the door, so he'd be able to leave. "I... Uh... I need to go outside, sir."

"Don't call me sir."

"S... Sorry, sir."

Gibbs eyed the frightened probie for a moment, and decided to leave his bastard attitude for later use. It was too early for this. Even for him. Stepping away from the door, he couldn't stop smiling that amused half-smile of his when the kid nearly fainted out of relief and couldn't get outside fast enough.

Walking into the kitchen for a refill, Gibbs sat down and observed his own Agent, who sat behind the table with papers scattered all over it. With the young man's hair up in all odd angles and directions and dark coloring under the eyes, DiNozzo wasn't exactly at his best, although the hairstyle made him look years younger. "Did you get any sleep at all?"

Tony looked up from the picture he'd been staring at for a while now, the picture of that nurse from the security footage, or rather her back and brown hair that looked just like a bunch of other nurses. "Some." After that nightmare, there was no way he could have gone back to sleep. "Boss... I know you didn't get to sleep, so you really should try to sleep while you still can."

Gibbs shrugged. "Can't. There's too much coffee in me now."

Tony shook his head. "You know... Perhaps the intruder was just some secret admirer of yours. Or more likely, maybe it was one of your ex-wives." He laughed and barely avoided the head-slap, but then he got more serious as he went back to staring at that picture.

"Figure anything out yet?"

"No. Well... No."

"Well?"

"It's just a gut feeling, if anything, but I can't read it well enough to go anywhere with that. I feel like I maybe know her, but for the life of me, I can't figure it out with only a picture like this. I hope the sketches help..."

"Come on. Let's try to get some sleep for a couple of hours." Gibbs stood up, leaving no room for arguments.

"Didn't you just say you had too much coffee in your system?"

"I said I would try."

"Fair enough."

Cursing softly, the darkly dressed figure walked away from the house. There was no other choice but to gather the information some other way. It would not be this complicated in the first place if the old man had started living in this century, like the rest of the modern world, which made finding out their personal life and secrets so much easier...

How had no one known that Agent Gibbs' little underling was staying there? Not only that, but also capable of ruining the smooth, simple plan to get in and out without anyone ever knowing. Not to mention Gibbs himself had been home, when, according to the sources, the man lived for his work. This also brought out another set of questions, such as why was the other man there? He did not seem to be injured either. Or drunk. Or whatever the reason was for him to be there. What was their relationship? It surely went deeper than that of a normal boss and subordinate.

Walking toward the car waiting, with a slight limp, one thought was stronger than any other; even if the weak link was now dead, father was not going to be pleased...

Entering the bullpen later that same morning, Tony felt weary and tired to his bones; he could almost feel his 'old' age again. The whole week it seemed as if everything went wrong, from falling down the stairs while chasing after a suspect, to trying to catch their unknown serial killer and then losing a team member. It would make anyone feel ten years older.

Sitting behind his desk, Tony looked up when Gibbs strolled into the bullpen, holding the foremother of all coffee mugs. Tony wondered absent-mindedly if the strength of the thing was also worse than usual. If such a thing was even possible. The smell was even less pleasant than usual, and it made the whole area reek of something that could only be used to poison something. "Thanks, boss." Tony eyed the coffee that Gibbs gave him; half the size of the one that Gibbs still held, which the man was now both inhaling and drinking at the same time, like a thirsty beast who hadn't seen any water for days. Or a drunkard who had his first drop of alcohol after too long wait.

Gibbs looked up, having sensed DiNozzo's eyes on him. He was pleased to see how one glare from him made the young man drop the gaze, although there was now an amused smile on his face. Most people wouldn't have the guts to be that fearless around him, which was something that he both loved and hated about DiNozzo. "You getting to work or do you need your daily head-slap, DiNozzo?"

Tony looked up, startled. Wonderful. Gibbs was back to his bastard mood, which had plagued their team for a few weeks now. Whatever bug there was in his boss' ass, he at least didn't have anyone to protect from it this time. "Already working, boss." Tony gestured at the few papers already scattered on his desk, which his boss was now staring at, feeling certain that none of it had been there only a moment ago. While Gibbs was trying to solve yet another puzzle, Tony's thoughts wandered elsewhere, and without really thinking much, his gaze went to the two empty desks. After two years, he could still see them, hear them. They were the ghosts from his dream, tormenting him.

There was McGeek, furiously trying to hide his new book chapter from his teammates, who did everything they could to see it. Who told the idiot to write it at work anyway? Or to use them in his book? It was asking for a well-deserved trouble, and not just from them.

He couldn't bear to see Kate sitting there, so he always tried to block the sight of her, which didn't always work and neither did it now, after what happened to Vivian. It always started the same way; Kate was smiling or laughing about something, teasing and sometimes taunting him. Then it ended with her sitting there, slumped against her desk and glassy eyes staring at nothing, with the always present bleeding hole in her face.

Now, Ziva was one of the loudest voices speaking to him, always sizing him up and throwing some snide remarks and taunting. Always taunting. Always using wrong wording, and he had to fight back the urge to correct her out loud. She was a ghostly reminder to him, to never let someone like her get too close to him ever again.

Surprisingly, Vivian had joined his collection of ghosts. There were too many of them. Most were born of guilt, regrets, sadness, longing, fear, anger... Guilt.

Dropping his head against the palms of his hands, Tony took several deep breaths. Breath in, breath out... In and out, in and out... It didn't help; he still found himself reliving that moment, from where he heard the all too familiar sound, to when he saw Vivian. Dead. His traitorous mind kept revisiting it, in slow mode, zooming in and zooming out. Focusing on the smallest details. Analyzing. That short moment of surprise on her face that he hadn't noticed back then, the flash of something flying past them just as he pushed Gibbs down on the floor with him, the sound of the bullet hitting her; another thing that he didn't remember hearing back then. Why hadn't he pulled her down with him? Why couldn't he have been slow enough to take the bullet instead? Anything but this. As always, the weight of the guilt was much too heavy on his shoulders.

"What are you doing, DiNozzo?"

Tony looked up, startled and then surprised when he realized he was holding his coffee in one hand, which he didn't remember picking up, and his other hand was typing something on the computer; the report? It was a good thing he was able to work on 'automatic setting' or he'd be chewed thoroughly by Gibbs. The only problem was that he couldn't remember writing this, or even when he had started the computer. There it was, however, almost perfect description of the crime scene incident. In perfect order and everything. Not too little and not too much. Yet he had no memory of writing any of it. Frowning inwardly, Tony wondered if there was something wrong with him. Maybe he should actually let his head be checked... Or perhaps his brains had been invaded by aliens or something. That made him think of a bunch of B-rated scifi and horror movies, which he never wanted to see again. "Um, my report, which is done I think." He eyed it for a moment. "Yep. It's done."

Gibbs had kept his eyes on the troubling Agent of his and didn't like what he saw. The man had spent half an hour staring at something with a vacant look in his eyes, while his hands kept working, obviously writing something. It was like watching a sleepwalker at work.

After printing out the report, signing it, Tony handed over the report to Gibbs. "I'll go see Abby." In fear of Gibbs stopping him, Tony rushed to the stairs, as fast as he could without actually running. Using stairs instead of the elevator had become something of a habit, whenever possible, wanting to keep in shape. Well, more than usual. And sometimes it was to avoid any impromptu 'elevator talks' with Gibbs. Now was one of such moments.

Gibbs was in no way going to stop his second from leaving, hoping that perhaps Abby could cheer him up. Although, he really had to talk to Tony, and soon. Looking over that report, Gibbs furrowed his eyebrows. The report was too perfect, and he didn't like it. Clinical. It was as if one of those computer geeks had written it, minus the 'geek talk', which he wouldn't even understand. This report had no Tony in it. Although he would never admit it, he liked reading those reports DiNozzo made. They were perfect, DiNozzo way.

Staring at the empty desks, Gibbs wondered what the man had seen. He'd seen the distant look whenever Tony even glanced toward the desks. Had he looked only at the desk where Blackadder used to sit, he would've automatically guessed her to be the reason, but Tony's eyes kept darting between both empty desks whenever his eyes wandered there, and there was the way he moved his head to his side just a little, as if listening to something. It was quiet in the morning, and mostly there could only be heard the computers and a few soft 'good mornings' here and there. A thought occurred to Gibbs, and he had a flash of memory of Tony talking to Ducky. That dream; he hadn't given it much thought after DiNozzo started working with him.

Shaking his head, Gibbs looked up as Tom Morrow came out of the elevator, with a storm at his heels, looking grim. Seeing the questioning look Gibbs was giving him, Tom shook his head and formed, 'later,' with his mouth. Can't be good. Gibbs frowned and nodded, watching the Director taking two steps at the same time before disappearing in his office.

Meanwhile, walking into the lab, the first thing Tony saw was Abby holding a huge envelope against the light and squinting her eyes almost painfully, obviously trying to see through it. Shaking his head at it, Tony wondered what Gibbs would have done if he had walked into the room right then. Probably nothing as, just like in the dream, the former Marine had a soft spot in his heart for the young woman—too soft—which meant letting her get away with far too many things and perhaps unknowingly teaching her some bad habits with his own actions and non-actions. Not that Tony had anything against Gibbs being close to Abby, but he worried how it would affect her in reality, hating the possibility of seeing the woman turn out the same way as in the dream, which was one of the reasons he had done his best to keep a certain distance between the two of them.

Tony turned off the loud music, making Abby jump and screech guiltily, "I'm not doing anything!" Turning around, she hid the envelope behind her back. "Tony, you scared me!"

"Abby..." Tony sighed and stepped forward, holding out his hand.

"Gibbs already brought me my Caf-Pow, but obviously you aren't here for that, since I can't see any Caf-Pow on you. Well, unless you did the mysterious appearing trick, which, by the way, I'm still trying to figure out how both Gibbs and now you are doing it. I even tried to see if the cameras caught anything, but—"

Her rambling was frozen with a sharp, "Abby."

Dropping her gaze to the floor, Abby gave the envelope. Chewing her bottom lip, she dared to raise her eyes and watched nervously as Tony looked it over, and then he looked at her again, with a deep frown and unsettling look in his eyes that made his handsome face look harsh and quite scary. Yep, Tony was mad at her. Abby couldn't help but squirm a little under the hard look. "This is addressed to me. Want to confess?"

"It's just... You know... When you mentioned last week that you are scared of opening envelopes..."

"I was drunk. I could tell you a bunch of stuff that makes no sense when I've had too much to drink. You certainly do, Ms. 'Look, a fairy,' and then proceed to cling to me and cry that it's come to steal you away."

"The thing was scary; Disney got it all wrong..." Abby muttered and then shook the memory away. "Well yes, but... I wanted to find out what could have made you feel that way."

Tony sighed as he swallowed down a few choice words. He had noticed how lately some of his mail showed up randomly at odd times. "Have you been going through my mail every day since then?"

Abby at least had the decency to look guilty. "Well... Sorry... It's just that you never share anything about yourself. Aren't we friends?" she worried. "I mean, I think of you as one. Do you really not..?"

"Abby!" Tony had a flash of a memory of that plague filled envelope, and he almost shivered. "Friend or not, you crossed a line you had no right to cross. I shouldn't have to explain to you why I don't like people getting their hands on my mail. If something happened to you because of me, I could never forgive myself. Gibbs wouldn't forgive me. He'd shoot me himself."

Abby frowned. "He wouldn't do that."

"Wanna bet?"

"Well, as a matter of fact—"

"Promise me, Abby. Never touch my things without permission."

Abby studied Tony, trying to see if there was any hint of humor in his eyes, but all she saw was a dead serious, almost intense gaze. Mean look. "Fine. I won't do it anymore... But I really wish you wouldn't keep everyone at arm's length."

It was his defense mechanism, born out of all the past hurts and mistakes, and now his dream, which really complicated things even further. Tony smiled slightly. "You already know me better than most people."

"Better than Gibbs and Ducky?"

"Better than most people."

Abby was pouting childishly. Leaning closer, Tony head-slapped her, shocking the woman speechless for a good few seconds. To be fair, it was rather gentle, especially compared to the real thing. "Did you..? Tony! You Gibbs-slapped me!"

"It's for doing what you shouldn't be doing."

"I'm telling Gibbs!"

"You wouldn't do that."

"Would too."

"Would not."

"I would."

"You wouldn't. I mean, we're friends, right?" Tony walked away before his words hit Abby. When they did, the goth smiled widely.

"Friends..." Taking her Caf-Pow, Abby smiled even wider when she saw a second Caf-Pow there. It was too far from where Tony had stood. "A mystery..."

She could hardly imagine how she had ever almost hated the former Detective. It had taken Ducky to point out to her that she had been childish and immature, jealous of the suddenly shared attention and affection when it came to her beloved Bossman. She felt her cheeks flush red when she remembered that day again...

- FLASHBACK -

Abby stared at the monitor in front of her. For some reason, the Caf-Pow tasted bad in her mouth, but she couldn't figure out why. It didn't taste any different than usual.

She was stuck with the image of the look on the young Detective's face and his retreating back as he left without looking back. Why did it bother her so much? It wasn't like she cared about the man, no matter how good he may have looked in those leather pants, and boy did he look good... Shaking her head at the image, she had to admit that had they met during some other circumstances and not with Gibbs bringing him there, she could easily see them being friends. He was special like that, once you got past the first impression. A friend material. Good friend material. Loyal friend material, unless her Abby instincts were all wrong. None of that mattered, though, when the man could put Gibbs in danger, and not when Gibbs had his head full of this DiNozzo. Not even bringing her Caf-Pow himself.

"Abigail."

Startled, Abby looked over her shoulder, smiling when she saw Ducky standing at the door of her unusually quiet lab. Her smile faltered when, instead of a gentle smile, the old man was frowning. "Duckman! You don't come here often."

Wordlessly, Ducky moved forward and held out some sample, which she took with a curious look on her face. "I thought Gerald was supposed to bring it?"

"He had a family emergency."

"Wait," Abby said as the man was turning around to leave. "Ducky, are you all right?"

Ducky shook his head. "I'm afraid not."

"Oh..! You're not hurt or sick, are you? Does Gibbs know?"

Ducky smiled finally, but instead of happy or even amused, it looked sad. "No, I'm not hurt. How foolish of me, not thinking how it would sound like... I'm worried about Anthony. He should not be going back to Baltimore in his condition, not on his own, when I cannot trust there to be someone to look after him."

"Well, it was about time."

Ducky stared at her. "Care to explain, Abigail?"

Abby wondered for a moment if she had said something wrong. "It's just that ever since Gibbs met Tony, everything has been about him. It was all right, though; I knew it was just another obsession for Gibbs, and it would pass once he found something more interesting. I didn't think he would bring Tony here. And at first it was okay, but now Gibbs has spent too much time with him and so even when he's with me, he's still thinking about him. I can tell. I feel so... so..."

"Abigail... Are you not perhaps being a little unfair? Childish even."

"What?" Abby was gaping.

"There's no need to feel jealous. Jethro has not stopped caring about you. Surely you must know that."

"That's not it. Ducky, he's dangerous! I've seen enough of his files and seen him to know that he's a walking accident! If Gibbs gets hurt or killed because of him..."

"I hardly think that would be Anthony's fault. You know that. It's the work that is dangerous. If anything, they are perfect for each other; two stubborn, pigheaded fools who do not care if they get hurt or what it would do to us who have to worry all the time, but if someone they care about gets hurt... Well, you know how Jethro is like, and I have a very good reason to believe Anthony is not much different. And I'm sure you know how Jethro keeps asking for trouble all by himself, or do you like it better if he keeps working on his own, without someone watching his back, or have someone much less qualified than Anthony with him? Much as we love Jethro, he is all too good at making enemies, rather than friends, who would care about him."

"He's no Stan Burley," Abby stated stubbornly.

"No, he's not, and that's only a good thing. Isn't it?"

Abby frowned. "Stan was good. He made it that long with Bossman. Longer than anyone else."

"He was good indeed, but do I need to remind you why he left?" Abby shook her head slowly and Ducky looked almost pleased, perhaps finally getting her to see it. "And do not tell me you had nothing to do with how fast some of the agents left. I know Jethro himself never made it easy for anyone to stay either, but your jealousy could have cost his life, with no partner to watch his back. You know that having no backup doesn't stop him from going out there."

Abby's eyes went wide, both at the realization that she'd been caught and what her actions could have cost. "But I didn't... I only..."

"I had my hopes that Anthony would not only watch Jethro's back, but that he would also do it better than anyone else."

"But he's not—"

"Abigail! You are a very smart girl. Too smart to let some petty feelings of jealousy dumb you down."

Abby wiped away the lone tear rolling down her cheek. "I swear I didn't... I wasn't thinking... You're right, I am jealous. Whenever some new and young Agent comes to work with him, getting to spend so much time with him and more than I ever could... I've seen the look in Bossman's eyes when he looks at Tony. This is huge. He's different from the others, almost like... But I always thought I'm the only one. I don't like it."

Ducky's grim look softened for a bit. Perhaps he had gotten through to her. Patting at her shoulder, he said gently, "Maybe it's not too late to fix things."

Abby looked confused. "What do you mean?"

There was a twinkling in the old man's eyes as he handed Abby a hundred dollars. "For that office bet you started on Anthony."

Abby's face turned red. "But... He already left."

Ducky had a strange, wondering look on his face. "Has he? If I were you, I would call Jethro."

"But, Ducky, no one has bet a hundred dollars."

"I will take my chances."

One of her machines made the sound, letting her know the work was done, ending the flashback.

Abby made a face. On the day Tony officially became the Agent, Ducky had collected his money with a smug look on his face, which was something you didn't see the man wearing very often. Then he took surprised Tony out for a couple of drinks and bought himself a new hat, which he still wore. And now there was another bet going on, since almost everyone knew about Tony's habit of leaving after two years or so. Come to think of it, many of the bets in these days had something to with Tony; from who he would date next to when he'd receive his next work-related injury.

Both Tony and Gibbs were admired, feared and respected, but Tony was also well-liked. It was something Gibbs couldn't claim to be even on his best day, and his respect was based on fear of some level. Abby could finally fully admit the reason, if only barely. As much as she loved him, Gibbs simply wasn't cut out to be friendly enough with just about anyone, even if it meant simply faking it. It was also one of the reasons why he could never become the Director, no matter how much Abby loved the idea of her Bossman barking orders as their Director. At least she could still daydream about that. In her fantasy world, everything was perfect...

With a huff, Abby shook away some unsavory thoughts. One didn't magically be free of every past habit, or feelings for that matter. It was a work in progress, but she was getting there.

Sitting behind his desk later that day, Tony finally opened the big envelope that contained the sketches of the nurse. "Boss. The pictures are here."

"Any good?"

"No... Not really. They look too different."

Deciding to focus for now on the sketch made from Agent Parker's description, Tony found himself staring at it for a long time. It really was too vague and could be almost anyone. Also, for some reason, none of the pictures had eyes. He brushed his fingers over Agent Parker's sketch, or rather the lips and the smile, tracing it with his fingers. It was a little odd that she'd remember the woman's smile, but not her eyes. He had a flash of memory of someone else with a smile just like that. It was uncanny how alike they were, the picture and the smile from his memory.

- DREAM REALITY FLASHBACK -

"Ziva!" Tony yelled as his partner pointed her weapon toward their suspect, who was holding a gun of his own, which almost immediately he had noticed was not a real weapon, but a children's toy. Very realistic, but definitely not real. Someone with Ziva's training should have been also able to see it was not a real thing. So then why..?

"Ziva, don't shoot!" he barely let the words out of his mouth when she smiled and shot their guy, killing him with a single bullet to the heart. "I told you to not shoot!"

"Oh. I didn't hear." Ziva shrugged as she walked closer to their now very dead suspect. Tony cursed and could hear Gibbs and probie running toward them.

"What happened?" was the first thing Gibbs said when he made it to the scene and saw their guy dead.

Ziva turned around and out of nowhere there was a tear rolling down her cheek and she looked almost broken. "I thought the gun was real, Gibbs."

Tony could only stare as Ziva went through what happened, in her own words. During the whole time, she seemed to be honestly distraught and Gibbs had his arms around her in a hug, comforting her.

"McGee! Take her back to the Navy Yard. We'll meet you there."

"But..."

"Now."

"Yes, boss..."

Silently, Tony went to his work. It was then that he realized he wasn't the only one with undercover skills that could fool those who think they know you best. Or then it was just a weakness of Gibbs, who had everyone else under his thumb, if ever they dared to question the man. He wasn't sure what to think of it, or maybe he did, but he wasn't yet ready to fully acknowledge the realization and the thoughts that came to him with that piece of knowledge.

"DiNozzo."

"Yes, boss?"

"Was that what happened?"

Tony actually looked, really looked, at Gibbs, and realized it was only his word against Ziva's. Why would Gibbs listen to him over his little favorite, who kept pulling the 'poor little daughter' card? It sounded petty and childish, and maybe it was, but there was no denying that the thing was real and serious. There was also something more to it, he was sure, something that was able to hold Gibbs captivated. Secrets that had enslaved Gibbs much too soon and easily.

"Yes, boss."

Dropping the picture on the desk, Tony had a sudden need for some air. "Coffee run," was his only explanation before he left the bullpen.

Walking to the desk, Gibbs took the picture, wondering about the odd reaction and trying to see what had caused it. As far as he could see, the sketches were useless. Before he could ponder more, the Director called him, and for a while he was distracted by other thoughts and a strong feeling that the morning was only going to get worse.

Chapter Text

"Give me one of your non-alcoholic drinks. Doesn't matter which one." Tony was sitting in a bar close to the Navy Yard, which was thankfully almost empty in the morning.

"Why come to a bar?" The man speaking didn't seem annoyed, only curious. He looked almost as old as Gibbs, had a dark complexion, and his face was full of laughter, even when he wasn't laughing. After thinking for a moment, he started putting together some fancy drink, adding too many things for it to taste all that good, although his movements were fast and sure.

Tony flashed his badge. "I'm on duty. Needed to get out for a while."

"Ah. I see, although I thought you guys usually hang around places that serve coffee. There is no coffee in here, per se." The man contemplated for a moment and then with a shrug, he added something that made the drink hiss and puff a green smoke, like some kind of witches' brew.

Tony stared at the drink, trying not to give in to the sudden urge to flee. "Usually, true, but I wanted to avoid my boss, and this isn't the kind of place he'd look for me first. Buys me some time, I hope."

Dark eyebrows rose, but the man made no comment on that. He poured the drink in a tall glass. Some of that green smoke rolled over the edges and down on the counter. It was either like some potion designed to cause some serious damage or something an illusionist would create just before some big reveal; like smoke and mirrors. "Ah. So, tell me, son; what brings a navy cop to my humble bar so early in the morning?"

Whatever the bar was, humble wasn't the word one would use. Tony almost laughed at the 'navy cop'. "Life."

The man chuckled and handed over the bright-green drink, which Tony eyed suspiciously. "Go on. Trust me, it's good."

"You've tasted it?"

"First time I made it."

"If this turns me into a frog, you better find me a beautiful princess to kiss me." While the older man grinned with amusement, Tony cautiously took a sip of the drink and then looked up, surprised. The fruity drink was sparkly and perfect, and it had so many flavors in it that he had a hard time figuring out what it must have been made of, even if he'd tried to keep up with the creation of it. Yet at the same time, the flavors were in perfect balance. Although no alcohol, there seemed to be some caffeine in it. Strong kind. Perfect for him, and maybe even good enough for Abby. It certainly had that kind of 'kick' in it, as it made his skin tingle with energy from the first sip alone.

"Told you." The man looked pleased to see his obvious enjoyment. Pleased and more than a little smug.

"What's it called?"

The man looked thoughtful. "What's your name? I'm afraid I didn't catch it."

"Anthony DiNozzo."

"Anthony DiNozzo."

"Yes."

"Anthony DiNozzo."

"Sorry?"

"The drink. It's called Anthony DiNozzo. Or maybe A.D. for short, or just DiNozzo. I haven't decided yet."

Tony stared for a while, and then he laughed, feeling suddenly much better than when he came to the bar. "I don't think I've had my own drink before. I'm honored."

"Is it really that good?" the man suddenly wondered as he watched the young man humming with pleasure as he sipped his drink, eyes closed. Making himself the same drink, he sat down to taste it and then swore like a sailor. "It is good. Must be the best one I've created so far. Maybe I'll start selling this; the Agent DiNozzo special."

"You're funny, man," Tony chuckled.

"You can call me Isaac."

"Fitting. Laughter; isn't that what your name means? You know, in Hebrew."

Isaac looked thoughtful. "I never knew that. I was named after Isaac Newton."

"I was named after my father." Tony grimaced.

Figuring that talking about the young Agent's father might be a little too early and too much right now, Isaac decided to take the conversation to another, safer direction. "You speak Hebrew?"

Tony snorted. "No, but I might have to start learning."

"Work?"

"Not really. Kind of. No. Maybe. I don't know. Let's just say that I want to be prepared for the storm if or when it hits."

"Want to talk about it?" Seeing the look Tony gave him, Isaac grinned. "Believe it or not, but working in a bar makes you a really good listener and usually the people aren't sober enough to make any sense of what they're saying, so I don't mind if you don't either. I'm rather used to it. Besides, during this time of the day I don't usually have many clients, so now would be a good time to use this chance to unload whatever is on your mind."

Tony mused how much he should say and what words to use. After all, he didn't know the man, even if he was instantly likable. And the best part was that they didn't work together or even in the same profession.

"I have this... enemy who looks from the outside the perfect Agent and partner to work with, for some people anyway. She fools them with her deception and for whatever reason, I am usually her victim, much as it pains me to admit it. Some even seem to think that we should become partners outside work as well, if you catch my drift. It's not happening. She'd murder me after mating and would probably get away with it too. She's dangerous, and if there has ever been a woman I'm scared of, then that would be her. Pretty pathetic, huh? A big federal Agent like me is scared of a woman." Tony tried lightening up the heaviness in his heart with a soft, bitter laughter.

Isaac shook his head. "I disagree. Women can be scary, scarier than us men and much more dangerous. I mean, not often would you imagine a fragile looking woman able to beat you in a wrestling match. And then try proving that to the others if she decides to pull the 'weak woman' card. At best people will mock and laugh at you, at worst nobody will even believe you."

"Old girlfriend?"

"Ex-wife. One of them. She was sweet as a cupcake when I married her, but was actually a devil in disguise."

"Oh, you can't be..." Tony laughed.

"What?"

Still amused, Tony shook his head. "You just reminded me of someone."

"So, this woman, she's someone you work with?"

"Not yet, but I might. No one at work knows her yet, and neither does she know me, which I hope she doesn't, but... I know it all sounds crazy, and it's not making any sense, just trust me, it's very bad news if she becomes a part of our team and personal lives. That's without even counting the whole issue of letting her anywhere near things and information that in the wrong hands could put all of us in danger... I'll fight tooth and nail to keep that from happening."

Isaac stood up reluctantly when another customer entered the bar. "That does sound crazy, but not in the actual crazy way so far. But don't worry, even if it is, I still like you."

Tony smiled weakly and finished his drink while Isaac was with the other customer. Taking out his wallet, he was about to ask for the price of his drink, only to get a firm headshake from Isaac.

"It's on the house. It's thanks to you I created that thing in the first place."

Hesitating, Tony put away his wallet. Smiling and giving his business card instead, he was given one in return.

"I hope this means I will see you again."

"Certainly. Thanks." Tony meant by the thanks much more than 'thanks for the free drink '.

From the bar to the coffee shop and then on his way back to the Navy Yard, he felt much happier and his steps lighter, filled with sudden energy. By the time he was back and sitting behind his desk, Tony was wondering how he could keep this secret from Gibbs, who made it his business to know everything. Especially if he wanted to search out any information about Ziva, that she was real and not only someone from his dream. He would obviously have to use some of his contacts, but even then he would have to figure out some answers to give when the questions came up...

With his hand hovering over the phone on the desk, Tony dropped it when Gibbs returned, looking mad and barely noticing the new coffee on his own desk. "We have a problem, boss?"

"Our case, and the incident yesterday, they're both linked." Gibbs glared at his desk as if it had personally offended him.

"And that's a problem for us because?"

"It seems that we got too close to something we weren't supposed to get."

"FBI? CIA?"

"None of those."

"Then who?"

"Mossad."

Tony froze. Okay. That was a little—way—too much of a coincidence, and he too believed in the rule 39; 'There is no such thing as coincidence.' Not in his life. "Mossad? As in the Mossad in Israel?" he asked carefully.

"Yes. That one."

"Why would they have any say in our country? You're telling me one of their people murdered those people, our people, and now it's us who are stepping on their toes?" Tony wasn't even trying to hide the deep disdain leaking from the tone of his voice. Whenever he forgot why he sometimes hated his job, the bloody politics of it and worse, he was always reminded of it with clarity that made him want to hit something hard enough to cause permanent damage. He didn't hate Israel; he knew many good people from there and even one of his frat brothers had been born there, but too many bad thoughts came to his mind when Mossad was brought up. Namely, anything that had something to do with Ziva and her family.

"Seems that one of their people switched sides and went on a murdering spree around a few countries, and now they are trying to cover it up. Someone owed a favor, and now we are ordered to drop the whole thing."

"And Director just lets it happen?" Tony couldn't believe it. Jenny and Vance, sure, they would do it without a backward glance. But Morrow, that wasn't his style.

"He is just as mad, but his hands are tied, which is why he told me that as long as we don't get caught, we can continue looking into it, and he will pretend to not know a thing. Of course, we have to do it while working on any other cases we may have at the same time. To treat it like one of our cold cases."

Tony grinned. "I knew he was always my favorite."

Gibbs finally saw his coffee and some of his bad mood evaporated. "Oh, and if I even smell any alcohol in your breath, you'll be working behind the desk for a month." He then grabbed his coffee and gulped down hungrily almost half of it.

How did he..? "No. Didn't drink any alcohol."

"Good." Gibbs felt relieved and then guilty for even thinking that. Then the phone rang, and he gladly answered it, hoping for something else to think for a while, to distract him. "Gear up. We have a dead Marine in a strip club."

Tony perked up. "Ooh, I like the sound of that." Naturally, that comment earned him a head-slap. "Sorry, boss. Will keep my focus on the work, boss."

Chapter Text

Tony faltered at the steps, and wondered not for the first time why he was doing this when he'd avoided showing up uninvited, but somehow almost without conscious thought, his feet had taken him there and now he was stuck, somewhere between going down or leaving while he still could.

"You coming, or are you waiting for an invitation, DiNozzo?" Gibbs called from the basement, having been listening to the footsteps until they stopped. It had taken him a while to figure out who it was; this being the first time DiNozzo came without an explicit order. While a part of him was happy that they seemed to have crossed another obstacle between their slightly hesitant—on Tony's part—friendship, but at the same time, he worried what this unexpected visit could mean.

Tony hesitated still and just as Gibbs was about to bark an order, he finally moved and made his slow way down, eyeing the boat with curiosity. "Wow. You've made some progress." If he was honest with himself, Tony wished he could come here more often, just to watch his boss working on a boat, and occasionally some smaller project. It used to be one of his favorite pastimes, in the dream, which was something their teammates would have never believed had they seen it with their own eyes; him sitting there quietly and happily as he watched Gibbs working with a skill he could only admire, listening to the calming sounds. For a while, he'd associated the smell of wood and sawdust to home and safety. For a time. Losing that part of their relationship meant he'd also lost the better, kinder side of the man, until there was left nothing to save; even the sometimes inept gruffness had turned into downright cruelty. It was too much to bear, even now. So, as much as he yearned for those good times, he didn't feel ready to let go of the unforgiveness.

Gibbs made a sharp gesture, an order to sit down. "What do you want?"

Tony flinched at the tone; a painful reminder of what a bad timing and idea this was, since Gibbs was obviously in a lousy mood. Again. "Never mind. Sorry for bothering."

"Sit down." Gibbs glared and waited until Tony sat down on the lower steps. A few idle thoughts later, he inclined his head at the boat. "Wanna help?"

"Wha—? Oh no. No. Wouldn't want to break something and then get slapped or worse." Just because he had memories of having done this before, it wasn't the same as having actually done it. He didn't think Gibbs would be happy if someone stole his right to destroy his hard work. He'd prepared a few more arguments against doing this, but of course, Gibbs refused to acknowledge the show of insecurity before the words could even leave his mouth, staring piercingly until he yielded and made his way to the boat, eyeing it as if it was going to fall apart on him, no matter how sturdy it looked. In his defense, the seemingly sturdy, unmovable and trustworthy things in his life tended to do just that. Tony hesitated before picking up a tool and started working on the boat in a manner that was all too familiar for this being his first time and after a while, he finally relaxed as his body took over, allowing his mind to wander aimlessly. When he wasn't looking, Gibbs allowed a small, pleased smile to caress his face.

Time went on, and neither man knew how long they'd been working. Gibbs was almost shocked at the silence and lack of the usual chatter, string of words and the most random topics.

"You know, it's kind of hard to know what you really want when first you tell me to sit down and then right after that you make me work on your boat."

Ah. There it was. Gibbs allowed a smirk, knowing DiNozzo couldn't see him from behind the boat. "Work. No talking."

"On it, boss..."

It was three in the morning when the need for either sleep or coffee became too great to ignore. Knowing that there had to be a reason for the surprise visit and since he had a few things to say himself, Gibbs decided to make coffee. Sleep was for the weak.

While the coffee was on the way, Tony stood in the living room, wondering about his past, the dream and future. He barely had a faint idea of how to deal with the reality VS the impossible dream, especially since by now he knew there was no way to change everything, at least not the way he wanted; he was only one man, not God. Carrying such a burden on his mortal shoulders didn't feel fair, but he wouldn't wish this on anyone else either, a fool that he was. He was also not sure if he was happy with the way things were, that his dream was just that, a dream. All that pain and hurt, which still felt raw and very much real. It was entirely possible that he wasn't being fair with his feelings of anger and hurt, since they didn't know about his dream, what they had and hadn't done in it, but whenever he thought about letting go and to live his life like the dream didn't even exist, he was hit by those flashbacks that made him realize and remember each time that no, he could not just let it go, take the easy way out and close his eyes from everything he knew. Even if his dream hadn't been the reality he believed in, so far at least the people from it had been very much real. Ziva was still a bit of a question mark, which wasn't that much of a surprise since she was most likely somewhere in Israel anyway, but he now had solid proof that not only did McGee, Kate and even Jimmy exist, they were in the same exact position where they had been before becoming what he had learned to know them as. He was unsure what to do with all that knowledge or even how to feel, but for now, he would just file away the information among many others.

Seeing an old and worn photograph on the couch, Tony picked it up reverently. Gibbs must have forgotten it there... Shannon and Kelly; they were beautiful, even if the photograph itself looked like it had gone through much handling over the years. He felt that twinge of envy again, that same ugly feeling of envy, which would become shame. He had no right to feel that way when those two were taken from Gibbs in such a cruel way. Still, he would have much rather lived a life that was short and happy, with loving parents, instead of a life that was long and full of misery, always left feeling inadequate. He wondered what Gibbs would say if he knew just how messed up his Senior Field Agent really was. He could all too easily picture the disapproving look.

"You were so blessed, Kelly. I hope you knew that." Knowing that the girls were a secret Gibbs wasn't ready to share, Tony was about to hide the picture under the likewise old and badly worn book laying on the coffee table. He glanced at the title, 'Bedtime stories ', and felt another twinge of envy and pain twist his insides, cutting him even deeper with the visible reminder of what he'd never had.

"What do you think you're doing, DiNozzo?"

Startled, Tony looked up. Trust Gibbs to show up unnoticed at the worst possible moment; he'd rather be caught with his hand in the cookie jar. "I saw this, and I figured you wouldn't want anyone seeing it, so I was going to—"

"You figured you could just touch it without permission." All Gibbs saw was red, and the picture, still being held gently by DiNozzo.

"Boss..." Tony tried not to show his hurt as he spoke softly, and a little uncertainly. "I won't tell anyone, if that's what's bugging you. I wasn't snooping around. You must've forgotten it there."

"Right, you weren't snooping around, when it's in your nature to stick your nose where it doesn't belong!" Fuming, Gibbs stepped forward and snatched the picture from Tony, hiding it in his pocket over his heart. He was angry, but unsure why he was angry. Distantly he knew it wasn't DiNozzo he was even mad at, but not willing to dwell on those thoughts, he furiously returned to the kitchen to calm down, failing to see the shuttered look on the young man's face.

Once he was much calmer and even feeling like making up for his bastard behavior, although not outright apologizing, Gibbs poured a generous amount of coffee for them both. "Coffee is done. I've got some leftover cake; if you want, we could..." Standing in the middle of the living room, Gibbs finally noticed how silent and empty the house suddenly was, and no DiNozzo in sight. Going outside, he saw that the man's car was gone. Had he just ruined his chances of making DiNozzo want to stay longer than those two years..?

After feeling like he'd driven long and far enough, Tony found himself leaning against his car, looking at the stars he couldn't see in the city, although his thoughts weren't focused on how pretty they were, rather it was self-deprecation and what an idiot he was; a proper jester. Hadn't he learned anything yet? Shannon and Kelly were a painfully sore subject to Gibbs, a wound that never heals. He just had to find and then pick up that photo. He should've known better.

"Did I do something wrong? I mean, other than torturing people with my movie references and playing pranks on the few lucky ones, but surely they're not bad enough for all this. Or is it because I'm my father's son, and so I must carry the sins of my father?" Rubbing his tired bloodshot eyes, Tony sighed when he heard a car nearing his hiding place, behind some convenient bushes, and finally coming to a screeching halt next to his. "You know what? I'll stop complaining if you keep him away from me. Okay, deal? No?"

"You talking to yourself, DiNozzo?"

Without even looking at the former Marine walking closer to him, Tony snorted. "Yeah, well, gotta talk to someone and I would feel bad waking up anyone."

Gibbs leaned against the car, next to Tony, who frowned and side-eyed his boss unhappily. "Hmh... It's quiet in here. Peaceful. Beautiful. Didn't think of you as a nature lover."

"People think many things about me, and usually they don't get anything right."

"Tony..."

"So who did you wake up in order to find me?"

Gibbs grimaced at the memory of the foul language at the other end of the phone, for waking up the man to help him track down his Agent.

- FLASHBACK -

"Jethro! It's almost four in the morning! I only fell asleep one hour ago!"

"Need to find my wayward Agent." Gibbs was completely unapologetic.

"What has he done this time?"

"Nothing."

"Then why—"

"Just find him for me, will you?"

"Oh, for..." There was silence at the other end, and then he could hear the man putting clothes on, with some more cursing. "Can't your own people help you out with this?"

"Already pissed off our Director today by giving a black eye to one of our suspects. Figured I'd take DiNozzo's advice and keep a low profile for a while."

The other man was chuckling at the mental image. "What he do? Make you drop your coffee?"

"Was hitting on my Agent and got a little too aggressive."

There was a shocked silence. "I never knew you'd be hitting a woman, Jethro. Not even someone like Diane."

"Never said it was a woman."

The silence this time was heavy. "Oh." There was an awkward clearing of a throat. "Well, I'll be... That the reason you need help to find him?"

"No. Get to work. Call me when you find him."

"I swear, Jethro, one of these days I won't—"

After cutting off the call, Gibbs didn't have to wait too long for his friend to call him back, having made someone locate Tony's phone. Now it was almost six in the morning, and they were outside the city, far enough to be away from the polluting lights.

"Please don't tell me you called him." Tony almost groaned, knowing full well how the two men were always collecting favors from each other. Seeing the answer on Gibbs' face, Tony sighed. "Great... Now he's got more ammo against me. Thanks a lot, boss. Couldn't you just find me using your gut or something? Or even better, let me have my moment alone. Next time I'll break some rules if I have to, to make sure you can't find me."

Shrugging, Gibbs held out the bottle of bourbon he had taken with him. Eyeing it dubiously, Tony accepted it, taking a sip before handing it back. "I hope you realize we have to drive back after this."

"Not gonna get drunk. Are you?"

"No..."

After a while they sat down on the damp grass, staring silently at the sea of stars against the dark sky; one was unwilling to talk, and the other tried to figure out what to say.

"It wasn't your fault," Gibbs finally said.

"Huh?"

"Vivian."

"Boss... If I hadn't..."

"Not your fault. She should've known better. She froze. Doesn't matter if it's for a minute or a few seconds, in this job we have to work fast and sometimes act faster than we can even think."

"It wasn't her—"

"Didn't say it's her fault either, DiNozzo. She knew what she was signing up for when she chose her career; the minute she did that was when she accepted the possibility. Just like you and I did."

Tony took another sip of the bourbon, before giving it back to Gibbs. "Thanks."

"Don't thank me. Not after that. Before."

"Boss, it's okay. I und—"

"How did you know?"

"Know what?"

"Them. How do you know about them?"

Tony was quiet. Not knowing what Gibbs knew about his dream, he tried to figure out what to say. "You're not the only one who does research on people you end up working with, and you're certainly not the only one who has people who can do some really deep digging for you. You've got Abby, I've got my own people."

For a moment Gibbs felt the need to be honest and admit his eavesdropping, that he knew, but decided against it. It didn't feel the right moment for that when he had other things to talk about. "Right."

Wondering what the man meant by that, Tony actually looked at Gibbs for the first time since he had showed up there. He didn't see in the darkness anything he could read on the man's face.

"I wasn't mad at you for finding that photo. I was... I wasn't really even mad, I think. I can't explain why I was feeling the way I did."

"You were angry at the world."

Gibbs hummed. "Sounds about right."

"You're not the only one hating the world for how unfair and cruel it is. I don't hold that against you."

"I know. Still, I'm sorry."

Tony's eyes widened dramatically. "Rule 6, boss."

"Doesn't count between friends—between us—so let me say it; I'm sorry."

Ignoring the pleased fluttering of his fool's heart, Tony blinked away the sudden wetness in his eyes. "So are you finally going to say it or do I have to say it, boss?"

Gibbs didn't say anything. He couldn't find the right words, no matter how much he had tried.

"So... Almost two years," Tony finally said.

"Hmm..." Gibbs frowned; just thinking about it made him cranky.

"I was wondering for weeks why you've been acting even worse than your usual bastard, and then it hit me. It all started when we heard those two morons talking about that bet. You know, the 'two-year mark DiNozzo,' bet."

Gibbs remained quiet, pursing his lips. DiNozzo hadn't seemed upset once they found out he was the target for all too many of the bets in the office, which reached even the FBI. Gibbs, on the other hand, had felt, and still did, like having a private 'chat' with anyone involved.

"Twenty. That's how much I put in."

Gibbs froze and turned to look at the young man. "You did what? I didn't know you can do that."

Tony shrugged and flashed his trademark smile, which was obvious even in the darkness, with nothing but the moon and stars giving them some light. "It was probably assumed, but there were no actual rules against it. I mean, I guess there is now, but you should have seen the look on Abby's face when she realized I knew about the whole thing."

"Abby?"

"Well, yeah. She's the one who started it all with the very first bet against me."

Gibbs grumbled in his mind, unprepared and unsure how he could ever have that 'chat' of his with Abby.

"You know, she and I had a rocky start back then. It's not a big deal. I'm used to it." That he was used to it, probably wasn't helping his case.

Gibbs looked at Tony curiously. "People often make bets about you?"

"Almost as much as I pull my pranks on people. I guess people find me and my life interesting, so usually I'm flattered. You should've seen me in college; the bets back then were much bigger and much... much different, mostly. I'm also not likely to back off from a challenge thrown at me. I've done some unpleasant things, just to spite someone, which in hindsight was probably the goal." Tony grinned with much regret over past actions.

Gibbs didn't point out that these were agents—adults—they were talking about, not a bunch of frat boys. "And? What are you going to do?" He almost regretted the question.

"Don't know... I admit I've looked at my options, and I have some standing work offers."

"What? When? Who?" Gibbs was suddenly on full alert, his posture straightening, the look on his face darkening and his every possessive instinct awakening.

Tony grinned, secretly enjoying seeing this side of Gibbs. Not always, since it could get horribly overbearing, but sometimes. "Most are from before my time with NCIS; only a couple of them are from the time I've been working with you and, honestly, I'm not sure if I like them. It would be too much like stepping on the dark side. Being here is already at times teetering on the edge." The grin faded at the many memories, and 'memories,' of such times.

"You're not going anywhere," Gibbs stated stubbornly, an order, albeit born of desperation.

"Oh? Then why are you so afraid that I will?"

"Because..." Gibbs muttered curses under his breath, realizing he'd been played.

"I'm not going anywhere, yet. I haven't fully made up my mind on what I'll do in the near future, but for now you don't have to worry about that two-year curse of mine."

That meant nothing was permanent, and so Gibbs knew that still couldn't relax. It frustrated him, not having any control. The two went back to the silence between them, both more than happy with it.

"You know... I came here so I could be alone. To think stuff. Alone."

"You think too much."

"Ha-ha..." Looking at the time, Tony closed his eyes for a moment, disbelieving. "Hey, boss."

"What?"

"We have to get to work. We're going to be late and we both need some coffee..."

Stepping out of the car, Tony stopped to admire the sniper rifle. Now that they had an entire weekend off, he had all the time needed to start taking lessons from one of the best. Once he would've asked Gibbs and possibly the man would've been happy to teach him, but there was still too much preventing the trust and courage needed to take that step. It had been no surprise that they couldn't do anything with the case of that mysterious ninja either, but it made Gibbs beyond mad, making this also a perfect time to get away from the firing line.

"My boss would either be proud of me or hit me for even thinking about doing this."

"What did you tell him?"

"The usual; I'm going on a date with some girl I met and so on. You know, something that's believable."

"Right. Less talking, kid, and more action."

"I'm on it, X."

"X?"

"It sounds way cooler than calling you Eugene. No offense," Tony rushed to say, seeing as the old man had that dangerous glint in his eyes, which he knew too well. Although old, Eugene's trigger fingers were still very good indeed, and he wasn't going to test his luck with the retired policeman.

"Let's get going then. Move it, move it!"

"We're not in the army..." Tony complained, but found himself obeying. What else would he do with a man crazy about his guns, rifles and even explosives, and who knows what else he had hidden somewhere under his clothes? Not to mention that the guy tilted just a little on the loony side... A good man, but crazy.

While jogging toward the area that Eugene had declared adequate for the rifle training, Tony wondered what on earth was he doing. He was more than adequate with his handgun and did just fine with his knives when the situation so demanded, but a rifle and a sniper rifle, of all things, was a whole another game to play. But right now it was the only thing he could think that might stop those nightmares from torturing him day and night. The closer they got to the 'Kate timeline', the worse they became. Seeing her in his dreams, all so different, but each one of those dreams ending with him staring at her face with that bleeding hole mocking him. One of the worst so far was the one he had at Gibbs' place, triggered by the death of Viv, so similar to Kate's that it was just plain creepy. And then there was the car explosion, like the universe was just throwing middle fingers at his face from every side and corner it could think of.

Taking his position with the sniper rifle, Tony took a few deep breaths to calm down his nerves. He was no sniper and never would be, but all he would need was one perfect shot when the time was right... Much as he'd enjoy learning from Gibbs, Eugene was perfect for this. He had met him years ago, and the man had helped make the final decision that being a cop was what he was born for. He also didn't ask any questions when Tony had asked for help. This way, no one would know what he was doing or ask too many questions.

"Well, Ari." He took a few more deep breaths, not sure if he was nervous or excited. "Till we meet, you bastard." He pulled the trigger.

Chapter Text

Opening the door to his apartment, Tony grabbed the shirt from the floor, using it to wipe off some of the sweat from his face and neck. Running usually cleared his head, but today nothing helped. It was one of those days; he felt far too restless and nervous. Today was the day.

After a quick shower, he slumped on his new couch and put his feet on the coffee table. He had found the couch on the Internet, and it cost just as much as it looked like it would, and then some, but it felt so good to sit or even sleep on after a long day—or days—at work. Worth all the money. Perfect for when he was too tired to get himself to bed, which meant he used his couch more often than his bed, which he hardly even saw anymore.

It had now been months since the last time he had been to Gibbs' place. Sure, the man had apologized, which in Gibbs language meant 'when the pigs grow wings and fly over the moon, twice, to be sure it really happened '. And they had become closer since the incident, so much that they were much more in sync at work, which didn't go unnoticed by other people, since their solve rate had jumped even higher than before. Everyone was happy, mostly. He knew it was confusing and frustrating Gibbs the way he kept coming up with excuses to stay away from his house, but it was a step he was not ready to take, again. Not too soon. He knew he was being a coward and that he needed to stop avoiding the place. He knew it, and yet...

Glancing at his phone next to him, Tony took a shuddering breath. If the phone call didn't happen, then most likely the rest of the day wouldn't either. Then it would also prove that his dream was just that, a dream. As crazy as it had been.

Standing up, he walked to his grand piano and sat down. The poor thing had been collecting dust lately. He only got halfway through his somewhat manic rendition of 'Hit the road Jack', when he heard the phone ringing. Rushing to answer it, he was oddly disappointed when it was Eugene, calling about their next 'lesson'. While the lessons had—all but one—gone well, he found himself wondering whether he should tell Gibbs something at least. Maybe say he was interested in learning new skills. He sure would have to figure out something before Gibbs found everything out himself, and then they would both be unhappy...

- FLASHBACK -

"What happened?" Gibbs stood up abruptly when he saw Tony hopping in the bullpen with a pair of crutches.

"Just a little accident."

"A little. Ducky seen you yet?"

"Good heavens, no." Tony answered, imitating Ducky's voice and grimacing as he slowly sat down behind his desk.

"DiNozzo," Gibbs said with a warning tone, demanding to be given a proper explanation.

Oh, he was never going to hear the end of this now. "I shot myself."

"You did what?" Gibbs stared at Tony with disbelief. "Try again, DiNozzo. Accidents like that don't happen to you."

"Well it did."

Gibbs tried spotting a lie there, but as he found nothing, he gave up. For now. "So, how did it happen? Did you just point at your feet and shot at yourself?"

Tony almost blushed. Not that he did it on purpose, but that was pretty much how it happened. After his first victorious and near perfect shot with the sniper rifle, he got a little too sure of himself, and ended up shooting through his right foot. Such a rookie mistake. Although, he would surely now be too paranoid to ever let that happen again... Didn't matter though how much he was bitching and moaning, Eugene had simply patched him up war style and made him continue. Giving up simply wasn't an option. Sometimes he wasn't sure whether he hated or loved the man... Just like with Gibbs, although nowhere near as bad. Did he actually attract crazy people..?

"Something like that... Look. It's nothing. I went hunting with a friend of mine and this is the result of it. Looks worse than it is. Will be as good as new in no time. It's mostly just my pride that got hurt."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "I thought you were meeting some girl."

"It was a double date, with me and her, a friend and his girlfriend."

"You took your date on a hunting trip?" Gibbs sounded incredulous and possibly slightly impressed.

"Well... She's that kind of woman. Got a good laugh over my little accident."

"Hmm..."

"Boss... Don't tell Ducky. I've already seen a doctor."

"You really think you can keep this from him? I thought you're smarter than that, DiNozzo."

"No, but it would give me a moment to prepare before he gets his hands on me."

Gibbs gave a small, evil grin. "Fine. But it's still desk duty for you, until Ducky says you're okay for more."

"Boss..." Tony shut his mouth at the look his boss gave him.

"And, Tony... Be more careful next time. At least let me know if you're going to do some more hunting."

"Why? So that you can stalk me around?"

"Yes."

Tony shook his head and didn't promise anything. He didn't want to lie if he could help it. Plus, he knew Gibbs would already try to find out the truth, the whole truth, with or without his help.

"DiNozzo. If we're done early, cowboy steaks at my place."

"Actually... I've kind of already promised to be somewhere else. You know, that girlfriend. She wants to go all mother hen on me. Maybe some other time." Tony could feel the icy gaze on him. He did not want to see what kind of emotions those eyes held right now, so he kept his eyes on his computer screen. "You could invite that redhead you've been meeting in secret."

"Yeah. Maybe..."

By now Gibbs had to know that he was that he was fighting a losing battle. Didn't mean the man was giving up though, and a part of him liked it, while at the same time Tony wondered when would he be brave enough to accept one of those invitations. More for his sake than Gibbs'. He did miss those cowboy steaks...

Having had enough of waiting, Tony put on his best suit, feeling the need for stronger than usual armor today. After a while he had gone 'back' to wearing the suits, although not so much as he 'used to' and mostly whenever he felt the need for protection, like today. He was in such a hurry to get to the Navy Yard that he barely remembered to grab his phone with him, and he was almost at work when it rang again. Without taking his eyes off the road, he answered, "DiNozzo." It was the dreaded phone call. With a heavy weight on his shoulders, he ended the call only a moment later. He had to book a flight for them...

Gazing at the airplane, Tony let out a weary sigh. They were in Kansas, and he was exhausted. Too exhausted to make a joke out of it. Out of all the reenacted moments today, the most annoying were probably still the looks they got at the airport. Not many people knew NCIS, no surprise there. It was a good thing Ducky had been there to save the potentially explosive situation between Gibbs and the security guard, since Tony wasn't in the mood to act as the buffer between Gibbs and the rest of the world. At least 'this time' he had managed to use his magic, lots of it, to get them on a better flight, which hadn't been easy, and now he owed a favor to his ex-girlfriend...

"Well. It looks the same..."

"It's Air Force One, DiNozzo. You haven't been there before," Gibbs grumbled. After all the trouble they'd been having on the way, he was in a bad mood. Not that he was being 'Mr. Sunshine' on a normal day.

"Right. Actually, I was talking about this movie—"

"Start moving, DiNozzo," Gibbs interrupted gruffly. "Don't want to miss our pissing contest with whoever else might be there already."

"Oh, I'm sure we'll win the fight, boss." Tony said with a promise as they moved closer.

"You bet we will."

"Although... Er, boss, maybe it's better to let the FBI handle this one."

Gibbs looked at him as if he had lost his mind. "You on drugs, DiNozzo?" Seeing the obviously rude reply that was coming, Gibbs moved before he had to hear it.

Once they made it inside the plane, it was that déjà vu all over again. "Ducky..." Tony turned to face his friend, while Gibbs started arguing with pretty much everyone else on the plane. A pissing contest indeed; one he'd already seen before.

"What is it, Anthony?" Ducky was concerned at how pale Tony looked.

"Today is kind of a bad day for me. I'm sure you'll find out soon why, but... Could you please make sure I don't make a massive fool out of myself in front of everyone?"

"Are you feeling ill? Perhaps you should lie down for a bit." Ducky touched Tony's forehead, feeling how damp it was.

"No. Ducky, no. It's not that. Just... You'll understand soon. Just make sure I don't—"

"Make a fool out of yourself. I doubt that will happen, but I will keep that in mind, Anthony."

Giving a grateful smile, Tony joined the others, and he would have almost enjoyed seeing Gibbs and Fornell growling at one another, had he not seen her. Kate.

- DREAM REALITY FLASHBACK -

"Come on, Kate. Don't tell me you've never seen it? Not one episode? It's Magnum we're talking about!"

Sure, she knew it, but if she'd admit it, he would most likely go into another Magnum quoting spree. Rolling her eyes, she pointed at him with the chopsticks and made sure there was no food in her mouth before speaking. "Look, not everyone is a movie buffoon like you, Tony."

"It's not a movie, Kate."

"Right..."

"It would be amazing to be like him," Tony said, with a dreamy look on his face, ignoring the irritated look Kate gave him.

"Who?" she asked anyway, immediately regretting it.

"Magnum."

"Oh, for the love of... I really don't understand how you are the Senior Field Agent, Tony."

He blinked slowly, to keep outward control over his emotions, since that one actually hurt. It always did. "Well, Katie. I'm sure you can ask Gibbs why he wanted me here in the first place."

"Gibbs wanted you? Now I know you are lying, Tony." Kate grinned. Maybe she was joking, maybe she wasn't. It was hard to tell sometimes.

Trying to change the subject, Tony again put on his goofball mask. "Hey, do you know the movie where..."

- DREAM REALITY FLASHBACK -

He was coughing so hard, he must've coughed his lungs out by now. It would explain the inability to breathe. He felt dizzy and worse than he had ever felt during any of his other work-related injuries, and he'd had a lot of those. There was just something desperately horrifying about not being able to breathe. It would bring the proudest man to tears. Not that he was in any condition to worry about his tough-guy image in the midst of putting all of his nonexistent energy into survival. He was finally ready to give up, call for Brad and agree to anything he'd so far said no to, just to get some relief. Distantly, he was aware of someone brushing hair off his face, and then he was somehow moved into a better position, to help him breathe. It didn't do much, and yet it made all the difference. He could weep again, and he did.

"Come on, Tony. You can do it. You wouldn't dare to go against Gibbs' orders, would you?" Kate spoke to him softer than she ever had during the whole time they had known each other.

"Ka... Kate..." Tony gasped.

"Don't speak. Just breathe."

"Wh're... 'ere..?"

"Well, somebody has to make sure you won't try to sign yourself out AMA again."

"Was'n... leav'n..."

"Sure you weren't. But I'm impressed. You made it so far as two steps from the bed. You're lucky I was here."

He mumbled something. It really was hard to talk, and he was so tired and done being used as a pincushion. He wanted to sleep, but it was near impossible, unless he passed out.

"What?"

"...nurse... outfit... for 'e..?"

"You're such a pig!"

Trying to laugh, Tony started coughing again and by the time he finally got enough air in his lungs, he was slipping into darkness. The sweet merciful darkness, his best friend in these days. Before it completely took him again, he felt gentle hands caressing his face and heard a soothing voice speaking to him.

The woman hadn't changed a bit. She still held her head high and looked important; after all, she did work for the Secret Service, and surely you couldn't get much more important than that. It was still amusing.

The two of them had played cats and dogs, but despite the hurtful moments, they had somehow gotten to that brother and sister type of relationship level, where it was hate mixed with love. It may have headed toward something more, but they never got the chance to find that out... Now it would never happen, if only because he was much too different from who he had been back then. Tony wasn't sure if he wanted to let her know him as a goofball this time since she'd had such a hard time taking him seriously the first time, but at the same time, he wasn't willing to give up his masks either. He wasn't sure if he even wanted Kate to join them again. Would she be safer without NCIS?

Holding his head up, Tony surrounded himself with the 'cool air of professionalism', and walking to her, he held out his hand. "Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo. NCIS."

She looked confused. She had been mostly forced to stand in the background and ignored, while others kept arguing over who's got the rights to what. She sized up the young Agent who, despite the dark suit, didn't really look like an Agent. He looked more like some movie star trying to look like one. Not impressed, she figured she might as well be polite, and so she shook his hand. "Agent Caitlin Todd. Secret Service."

Tony nodded and walked away without another word, leaving the woman staring after him even more confused than before.

"Anthony?"

Grief-stricken, Tony looked at the old Doctor, who had kept an eye on them. He glanced toward Kate and then back at Ducky. "It's her, Ducky. That's Kate."

Chapter Text

It was only by the time he found himself standing behind the door that he actually thought about calling instead, but he'd probably needed the excuse, and without thinking about it, he'd taken it. Taking a deep breath, Tony entered the house. He found Gibbs from the first place he looked; the basement. It wasn't surprising, but although he sort of knew the why, he still couldn't help but wonder why was it always the basement. There was plenty of room around the house and outside it.

To prevent startling Gibbs while he was at the shooting distance, Tony spoke in time, while descending the stairs. "Boss."

Gibbs looked up, strangely happy when he saw that he hadn't heard wrong. He might have even smiled. "I was beginning to think you would never show up. Although, there isn't any food in the house right now, but I'm sure we could order in something for now and leave the cowboy steaks for another time."

"Um... No. Not here for the cowboy steaks, boss." Tony felt guilty for telling the truth. The flash of disappointment that he saw there, didn't make him feel any better. "We've got a case. Got a call from Quantico."

Gibbs nodded absent-mindedly, the smile only a distant memory now. Putting away the tool he'd been working with, he walked past the young man without a glance. "You coming, DiNozzo?"

"Uhm... Yeah. I'm coming. I got the lights."

After a quick change of clothes, the pair of them walked outside when Tony suddenly made up his mind. "Boss."

"What?"

"As soon as we're free from work and hopefully not too tired... Cowboy steaks, maybe?" he finally said it, almost too quietly to be heard, but Gibbs did hear him. Loud and clear.

"You'll bring something to drink," Gibbs ordered gruffly and cupped the back of Tony's neck, who felt a shiver run through him; uncertainty most certainly and some relief.

He had 'missed' this. No, he needed this. In the midst of all this and more, he had forgotten why he had followed Gibbs in the first place and why he had stayed through all the storms—mostly storms—and sunshines beside the man, like loyal St. Bernard. Even if it had all been just a dream, which he was getting tired of, always correcting himself. Always reminding himself that it had been just a dream. It was almost as if there were two of him; the one in the dream and the one from before the coma, having a constant battle of pulling the rope from one end to the other. Would he ever find that much-needed peace in his own head? It was much too crowded in there, having two sets of memories and all the many conflicting emotions. After two years, he was so tired, and sometimes he wished to... He wished that he hadn't woken up from the coma. Sure, he'd be stuck in the dream for however long, but one where he had done the best decision ever by finally walking away. He was so tired...

"Tony?" Gibbs' voice seemed to be coming from far away as Tony stared at the man's face, swaying dangerously.

"Your face looks funny. I don't feel too good..."

"DiNozzo!" Gibbs watched helplessly when that glazed look in Tony's eyes didn't disappear, instead, the eyes rolled back, and he fell against the waiting arms. Dragging Tony inside the house, on the couch, Gibbs called Ducky.

"Duck. I need you here."

- DREAM REALITY -

He heard a steady beeping noise, steady and unpleasant. He desperately wanted to make it stop or ask someone else to do it for him, but there was something down his throat and he wasn't sure it wouldn't hurt trying to speak, or if he could. He tried to open his eyes, but his eyelids didn't even flutter. It took him a moment to feel a hand holding his hand, the one that had something attached to it. After a while, the beeping faded into the background, and he heard a voice speaking to him in a soothing tone.

"...they say it's because you're brain-dead, but I told 'em to stick it. They don't know you the way I do." The voice hesitated. It was Gibbs, but the man sounded so strange; beyond tired and... so gentle. "At least I used to know you, Tony... Why did this have to happen? Why did I let it happen? Come on. Please wake up. Yell at me, scream at me. Anything... They keep telling me to 'let you go', that it's only the machine doing the work for you... I don't care what they or that father of yours is saying. It's good he has no legal rights over you or anything that you own. God knows he's been trying to get his hands on everything even without those rights."

Heavy was the silence when Gibbs wasn't speaking, and it was a relief to have him fill it with his voice again. "You should've told me, Tony... Anything... Everything... Like what kind of bastard your father really is. Even I was fooled. Guess once a conman, always a conman, eh, Tony..? Or maybe you tried to tell, but I was being my usual bastard-self and I wouldn't listen. Is that how it was..?"

Tony tried moving his hand, the one being held, but his whole body felt so heavy. There was nothing he could do, but listen. Was this a dream again, or did he end up in a hospital? Again. And wouldn't that just make his day, or whatever it was right now... They should just give him one of those stamp-cards where every tenth visit was for free .

"I'm sorry, and I know I keep saying that, but I can't let go, even if that thing is what's keeping you alive... I need you to come back. I can't..."

Crying... Gibbs was crying. This was way worse than he thought. Had he passed out and woken up in the apocalypse? Slept through it, apparently.

"I've let such a mess happen, and now your probie is dead. Ziva is—was—in prison. No one knows where she's disappeared to... Abby's a wreck; you wouldn't know her now, looking so... ordinary. Blames me, blames her and blames everything. She gave up Caf-Pow and hardly goes anywhere in these days. She even has her own assistant, if you can believe it... Ducky has never looked so old, but then again, they say the same 'bout me..."

McGeek was dead..? So this really was that 'dream' or whatever again... It was all so confusing and the new revelation cut deep. Even if they weren't friends, he'd never wished him dead.

"Palmer is doing Ducky's job now... He's also got his own assistant. Someone to read the map for him, so he rarely gets lost on the way to the crime scene now... You'd be so proud of the kid; he's done Duck so proud... Even grew a backbone when I wasn't looking. Yelled at me... And I swear he's channeling you sometimes, it's bizarre. He's here almost as much as everyone else, but he's got another baby on the way now, so he can't be here as much as he wants to..."

Way to go, autopsy gremlin! Tony cheered inwardly. At least something went right, even if he wasn't there to witness it... Aaand he was back to feeling sorry for himself and morose.

"They really hope it's a girl this time. A little sister for little Anthony."

Oh... Tony felt self-conscious and some unnameable emotion swelling inside.

"You've... You've left such an impact on so many people, Tony. I swear, there must be tons of babies named after you during these few years... Anthony... Antonia... Antonius... And whatever other variations they come up with."

Hah. It's going to be so confusing if all those kids end up spending time together in the future.

"Jack. My dad... He really wants to be here, but he's too old and sick to travel, and I can't... Can't leave my own... Even retired for you, but that's not the only reason why... Couldn't do it anymore. You made me look at the things I've done, and now I can't look people in the eyes anymore... No more 'second b for bastard' in me, DiNozzo," Gibbs tried growling the last part, but he failed miserably, letting out another anguished sob as he squeezed Tony's hand so tightly it hurt. "Come on, Tony. Wake up already. Can't do it without you... So quiet, and it's just me talking day after day, and even some nights when I can't sleep... Wake up... You beat the plague of all things, you can beat this... I know you're not really gone yet. Can't... Won't believe in that. Won't..."

After that, after waiting silently for some movement perhaps or a sign that Tony was waking or aware, Gibbs went to another topic. He kept talking until his voice became hoarse and Tony couldn't believe he was actually witnessing it, that this was actually Gibbs. As mad as he still felt, he wanted to somehow ease the pain this now broken man was feeling. Give him a little sign that he had heard... Something.

Between Gibbs speaking about the new apartment he had bought near the hospital and how he could barely keep his coffee inside his stomach in these days, Tony moved his fingers.

"There we go. He's back with us now, Jethro; you may stop pacing."

Tony blinked his eyes dazedly. It took him several minutes to gather his disoriented thoughts to be able to put two and two together. Once it came to him, he almost groaned. He hadn't seen a dream like that in a very long time... Moving his hands—which he was so happy to be able to move—he touched his face and hands, to make sure there wasn't anything attached to him.

"Welcome back, Anthony."

"You have no idea, Ducky," Tony finally sighed and then looked around. He was in Gibbs' living room. "What happened?"

"You passed out," Gibbs stated harshly, but there was concern in his eyes.

"DiNozzos don't pass out," Tony grumbled, and it made Gibbs' frown turn into a smile.

"I've heard that story more than I'd like to hear, DiNozzo. I would like it much more if it were a true story."

Sitting up, Tony suddenly found himself with a pleasantly warm box of pizza on his lap. He looked at it with curiosity as he inhaled the scent. "What's the occasion?"

Ducky stared. "When was the last time you ate and slept?"

Tony looked surprised, and he tried to think. Really think. To tell the truth, he didn't have the faintest memory. Between the long days at work and then his little sniper training, which Eugene was taking far too seriously, and all the extra, he sometimes had barely time to go home to change his clothes before heading straight back to work. On the worst days like that, he could only take short naps here and there, if he was lucky. As for eating, whenever Isaac saw him, the man kept trying to make him eat whatever his elderly mother had made on that day. It would work much better if he would have also slowed down a little, but instead he kept burning the food faster than he had time to eat.

"Ow!" Tony rubbed his head at the head-slap, which wasn't really a surprise, but he'd been thinking so hard he wasn't prepared for it.

Gibbs was muttering something. Then he took a slice of the pizza and handed it to Tony. "Eat!"

"Well then... I will meet you two at the crime scene. Take it easy today, Anthony," Ducky ordered, knowing full well that telling his young friend to take the day off was a fight already lost. He left with a nod of his head toward Gibbs.

Tony forgot his hunger as he remembered, "The crime scene... Oh no. How long was I out?"

"Not long. If I drive, we'll be there on time."

Tony made a face, knowing it had to have been long enough for not only Ducky to arrive while he was out, but also the still warm pizza that probably had arrived not too long ago. "I'm not sure if I should eat anything before the drive." He saw the glare and silent order and rolled his eyes. "I'm eating," Tony mumbled, and started eating under the watchful eyes of his boss. They only left the house after he'd eaten more than half of the pizza.

After the little, 'just closed my eyes for a little nap, boss,' as Tony called it, Gibbs had refused to let him drive anywhere on his own and when he tried to find his keys, he knew from the smug look on Gibbs' face and the emptiness of his pocket that Gibbs not only had his keys, but also his wallet.

'You're under my mercy now, DiNozzo.'

Keeping his eyes on the road in front of them, Tony found himself analyzing his dream again, wondering why here and why now. Why did the dream reappear again? "I guess my brains simply gave me what I asked for."

"What?" Gibbs said, confused.

"Nothing... Hey, Gibbs. When we'll be eating those cowboy steaks later... I need to talk to you about something..."

Chapter Text

Gibbs had a hard time trying to even pretend that he was listening to what the man—Sergeant Gregory Nutt—was telling them. He was counting on DiNozzo to keep both his ears and eyes open for them both. His own mind was elsewhere and kept going back to what DiNozzo had said to him in the car. Whatever this something he wanted to talk about was, it hadn't sounded good; it sounded serious. Tony refused to talk about it then and now, which probably meant he needed time and a better place to say it. Was it for comfort or security; both?

At least Gibbs received another offhand promise that it wasn't about leaving NCIS. At least that was something he didn't have to worry about, not that it helped much, because then Tony admitted that it was something he'd kept from his boss and thought he'd want to know. The whole thing both frustrated and worried Gibbs.

He was also starting to have doubts about offering the now former Secret Service Agent the job.

With Tony, it had been a once in a lifetime opportunity, as Gibbs was starting to slowly understand. Without digging any deeper or even knowing all there was to know about the former Detective, it was enough to compare team Gibbs' solve rate before and after DiNozzo, to make it clear how much of a difference it had made. As much as Gibbs himself hated admitting it... After DiNozzo, Gibbs might have put too much trust in his ability to choose well. He had been so sure of what he was doing by taking Kate with them, but then what Tony had said to him the next day...

- FLASHBACK -

"So, you offered her a job?" Tony asked, studying the smile on Gibbs' face.

"I did," Gibbs admitted, unsurprised that the man had already found out. Or perhaps he truly was that transparent to him.

"Hmm..." was the only sound coming out of Tony's mouth, and the expression on his face was unreadable.

"Something wrong with that, DiNozzo?"

"No. Just... Are you sure it's the right thing to do?"

Gibbs was confused. That was honestly not what he had been expecting to hear. "What do you mean?"

Tony's mouth became a straight line, and he shrugged. "It's just... She..."

"Rule 12?"

"Not a problem, boss."

"Then what is it?"

"It's..." Tony sighed and smiled sadly.

"What? Don't tell me you're jealous." Gibbs smirked, trying to make a joke out of it, only to realize he had said the wrong thing. Seeing the flash of anger, Gibbs prepared for some huge explosion. Instead, Tony took a deep breath and smiled again.

"No. That's not a problem either, boss."

"Then what is it?"

"It's nothing. I was just worried about something. I'm sure she'll make a fine Agent." As if suddenly in a hurry to get away, Tony stood up and 'accidentally' knocked his coffee into a trash can. "Oopsie. Coffee run. Be right back."

"Tony..." But Tony was gone before Gibbs could finish, or even start, the sentence.

He wondered what it was about Caitlin—Kate—that made Tony feel so worried. Sure, the woman was a little green, but surely with some hard work they'd get a good Agent to work with them. Other than goofing around with Ducky on the President's chair and taking pictures of each other sitting on it, the young man had been beyond professional during their time around Kate. There had been nothing to indicate that Tony wouldn't support his decision to offer her the job. Besides, Morrow was being extremely pushy about filling the empty spots in their team; a real pain in the ass. This way, they would all be happy. Or so he thought... It couldn't be because Tony had to play the body to fool the FBI, right? Tony had been in a somewhat snarky mood after that, but he did apologize to him later, sort of... By buying Tony that extra large coffee and a doughnut covered in sugary sprinkles.

"Boss?"

Gibbs realized suddenly that the other two were staring at him as if expecting him to say something. Obviously, he hadn't heard a thing.

Taking one good look at his boss, Tony noticed how absent-minded the man looked. As worried as he was, he knew they had a case to solve. With that dream of his, he was hopeful that perhaps he'd be able to work through everything faster, and then they could talk... "Boss, why don't you go and get Agent Todd. I can start things here with Ducky."

Gibbs nodded, although he was only mostly listening. "Call me if anything comes up." He was grateful that DiNozzo was so good at picking up his moods and then acting according to them, although he wasn't too pleased by the almost commanding way the kid had spoken to him. Which one of them was the boss here?

"Will do, boss." Tony started walking toward the couple waiting to be interviewed, but then he stopped and turned around at the sudden head-slap. He rubbed the back of his head with an almost patiently amused look on his face, knowing full well what it was for. "Oh, and you might want to make sure she's got proper shoes on." He smirked, remembering Kate on the crime scene with her high heels and all... Gibbs was, however, already gone to his car, having heard none of it. Making a face, Tony turned around and resumed his walk toward the couple. He hoped to get through this case better than 'last time' since there was no way he'd fall off the airplane again... Once had been more than enough. But more than that, he hoped Gibbs wasn't going to treat him like some dirt on his shoes...

He should've known better than to hope for such things.

It was starting to get light outside by the time Tony finally opened the door to his apartment. Staying up all night and, in general, not getting enough rest nor food lately guaranteed that he felt even more tired than usual. Ducky would be after his head if he found out... Despite his lack of energy at the moment, Tony felt like giving certain someone one or several head-slaps of his own.

Although he had managed to avoid the whole 'falling off the plane' incident—which was something he was proud of—Gibbs had been acting like a pissed off bear who was shot in the ass, showing off his second 'b for bastard' with far more liberty than was needed. There almost never was a need for it. It didn't matter how hard Tony had been thinking over everything he had done 'wrong' the last time and did his best to be the perfect little Agent, Gibbs still found ways to throw insults at him. Either on purpose or then it indeed was just in the man's nature, and he had been the perfect victim, as usual. They were all such little things mostly, but together they became big enough to make his blood boil, as it did right now. The worst part was that their new Agent had been there to hear it all. Had Gibbs been a man enough, at least he'd do those things in private where other people wouldn't witness everything.

At first, the day had started off surprisingly good, not counting the time when he didn't pass out at Gibbs' place. He even got a few secret laughs, seeing again how Kate arrived at the crime scene with her high heels and skirt. Then the dressing down she received from Gibbs more than enough, especially when she tried to bring out the fact that she was a former Secret Service Agent and didn't need to be told how to do her job. Their probette had so much to learn, just how different this job was to her previous one.

All had been good, and he had almost relaxed, until Gibbs started snapping at him and throwing those small yet hurtful little snide remarks at him. He swore he saw Kate grinning a few times, and then she joined in the, 'let's make sure DiNozzo knows his place,' act. He really had to find another way to bring Katie down from her high horse, and soon. He couldn't go through the long and painful road anymore, to wait for people like her and McGee to respect him as their SFA, if nothing else. At least he had gotten his revenge... From that moment on, he had decided that no more. He wouldn't stand between Gibbs and their other agents anymore. So, as much as he hadn't enjoyed being around Gibbs, this time, Kate had shared his fate.

And then Gibbs had forgotten about their cowboy steaks...

Sure, he knew that Gibbs' ex-wife was bothering him with those phone calls that he didn't answer and thus making his bad mood even worse, but the man really was starting to make him wonder what he had been thinking when he accepted the job offer again. He was so close to start giving the boss a taste of his own medicine, but that might be a little too much and as so many people used to tell him, he was not Gibbs. Like that's an insult... In these days, in this life, and for the him now, hardly.

As Tony pondered these things, meanwhile in a house of a certain Special Agent was Gibbs, about to be reminded how his priorities were really not where they should be.

Opening the door to his home, Gibbs sighed tiredly and then smiled softly. He had spent all morning with the young Billy Fuentes—the son of their victim—building that tree house of his, which the boy's father could never finish. He even spent the early breakfast with the boy and his mother. Although saddened by the loss that the boy now had to live with, he couldn't help but feel like he had done something good. It felt good to do the right thing.

And that reminded him of how he had behaved toward his two agents during the case... Especially Tony, the one he didn't want to lose. He really had a lot to make up for.

Gibbs walked into the kitchen, hoping he hadn't finished the last bottle of beer that he knew should be in the fridge. He opened the door and froze. There were several bottles of beer in there, with a note attached to one of them. Unsure what it would say, he took it and squinted his eyes, trying to read it.

'Came by, but you weren't home.
Waited for a while. I guess you forgot?
It's fine, Gibbs, I'm sure it was important.
The beer is yours. I'll see you at work.'

"No way is it fine..." Gibbs growled and slammed the door closed. How could he have forgotten? Had they taken one very small step forward, only to take several big jumps back? Grabbing his car keys, Gibbs ran outside and to his car. He couldn't believe himself. He had to fix this.

Hearing the knock at his door, Tony wasn't going to open it, didn't bother even looking away from the TV. Then he heard Gibbs yelling, and if he could hear the yelling, so could his neighbors.

"DiNozzo! Open the door, or I will let myself in!"

Feeling a sudden white-hot fury, Tony stood up and marched to the door. Yanking it open, he faced the man standing there. He crossed his arms over his chest and leaned against the door frame, blocking the way inside his apartment. "What do you want?"

"Tony. I'm... sorry." Gibbs swallowed at the stony mask. It was hard, cold and distant. It made his heart ache with the realization that he cared about this young man, enough to not want to see all those different masks on his face. Not between the two of them. He wasn't sure what that meant. "Can I come in?" he asked when Tony didn't say anything and kept blocking the way in.

Tony stared at the man in front of him; almost as tall as he was, somehow the older man seemed to have shrunk. And Gibbs had apologized... He still wasn't in the mood to listen to anything right now, though. If only he could have gotten some sleep and one huge pizza before any of this... Letting the man in, Tony closed the door.

"What do you want?" he asked again once they were sitting in the living room, with the TV playing silently in the background.

Gibbs sighed. He had really messed up, hadn't he? "I forgot. And I treated both you and Kate unfairly. Treated you like some probie, which you have never been during your time as my Agent, as my partner. Or even when we met."

"Then why did you?"

"I was afraid, wondering what it could be that you want to talk to me about. Then all kinds of thoughts were taunting me during the case. It was hard trying to focus on solving it like that. You did a fine job, by the way."

Tony stared at him, allowing himself to relax, but only a little. "That's lots of talking, coming from your mouth, boss."

Gibbs smiled weakly, before it turned into a frown. "Your dream... Is it about your dream?"

Tony froze. "What dream?" he asked carefully, afraid to know the answer.

Gibbs rubbed his forehead before looking Tony in the eye. "Tony, I know. And I... I should have told you sooner."

"You know what?"

"Two years ago, I heard something I was not meant to hear. You were talking to Ducky."

Tony stared at him. It felt as if the room was turning upside down, and he felt sick. "Gibbs, I don't know what you're—"

"I know, Tony," Gibbs said again.

Chapter Text

"I know, Tony."

The blank stare was unnerving. After waiting for a reaction of any kind and receiving none, Gibbs was almost ready to admit defeat, when Tony finally stood up.

"I'll make some coffee," he muttered and disappeared into the kitchen, leaving Gibbs to stare after him with his eyebrows furrowed. Worrying. Confused.

It took a while before Tony returned, with two cups of coffee; the kind of coffee that Gibbs loved, and while he didn't think he'd ever grow to love it, he'd grown to tolerate it. For all the poison that it was, it certainly gave a proper energy boost, which had lately been in desperate need of. Taking the offered cup, Gibbs kept his steady, careful stare on Tony, who sat down far enough from him. The kid was calm, too calm, but in his gut he could feel that it was just the calm before the storm.

"This reminds me of a movie," Tony finally said. Whatever the movie was, he never finished that sentence. Taking a sip of the scalding coffee, he put the cup down on the coffee table. Then he laughed and stood up again, this time to pace the room. "Are you for real?" he spat out and finally turned around to face Gibbs. "Do you have any idea how hard I've tried keeping it to myself? Always making sure I don't slip by accident; worrying daily that I'll mess up something, worrying that maybe at some point I already have. Now you're telling me that all this time, you've known. Have you been secretly laughing at me behind my back?"

"I'd never—"

"Is that why Fornell has been giving me odd looks whenever we meet? I know how you two share your ex-wives and secrets like a pair of gossiping old women who have nothing better to do. I caught you two in one of those moments myself."

Gibbs flinched, but kept his peace for now. He's just upset, he reminded himself, and then kept reminding since his own temper was ready to be unleashed.

"Do you really have to know everything about me? It was my secret to tell, or not to tell. Besides," Tony sneered, "you're the last person to share your secrets with anyone, hypocrite!" His eyes narrowed suddenly, remembering a certain look he had seen on Ducky's face a couple of times. "Does Ducky know you know?"

"It's not his—"

"Does. He. Know. Or does he not? Did he know?"

It wasn't supposed to go like this... Gibbs sighed inwardly and admitted grudgingly, "Yes."

Tony laughed again. "I should've known... Why do I trust people so easily?"

"It was one time only... He told me to tell you, but it was my choice to not say anything."

"You don't get it, do you, Gibbs? I would have wanted to know, yet he kept it from me. I had the right to know. All this time I've made a fool out of myself, not knowing what you heard. All those times when I talked about my trust issues, and he kept that from me. I trusted him. He should've told me the moment he found out. You should've told me."

"Tony..."

"I'm going out for a run. You know where the door is, show yourself out. For your sake, I hope you're gone by the time I return."

"Tony..." Gibbs' pleading voice wasn't heard as Tony disappeared to change his clothes. Then, grabbing the keys, he left the apartment without even glancing toward the older man.

Gasping for his breath and trying to keep the nausea away, Tony staggered upstairs. Feeling dizzy, it took him dropping the keys several times before he finally managed to open the door. To his great relief, the apartment was quiet, with no sign of Gibbs, as he made his unsteady way toward the bathroom. He'd been gone for a long time, so maybe the man finally got the message...

Neither the run nor the shower made him feel any better; he felt betrayed, and wasn't that just grand. How many times did he have to go through this, feeling this way? He had trusted Ducky, and now he had no idea how to deal with him now. He'd trusted enough to even share a few details from his 'dream'. Not all, or even the big things, but some. It would be so much easier if he didn't care. Didn't matter how much anger he still had in him—and occasionally hatred—he would never stop caring. He just couldn't. It was against everything he was, against his nature.

Holding his hands against the slowly warming tiles, he let the water run over his head and back, letting it wash away some of the anxiety. Even if it was just a momentary relief, he needed it.

God, why did he have to be this way..?

- DREAM REALITY FLASHBACK -

"Come on, DiNozzo. I know you can do better than that," Gibbs said, observing his new Agent while the kid was shooting at the target.

Scowling at his boss, Tony took his position again. He had shot perfectly; what more did he want from him?

Several shots and one slightly mutinous smiley face later, Gibbs smiled proudly. "Attaboy."

Tony couldn't help beaming at the rare praise.

"Do it again with your left hand."

Bastard...

It took several hours before the man was finally pleased.

"That'll do for now. Let's find something to eat. It's on me. What do you want?" Gibbs said as they walked outside, side by side, which happened so naturally and like it was always meant to be this way.

Tony hesitated for a moment, and then he glanced toward the man. He was pretty sure he'd end up with a head-slap, which he was starting to get used to, not that he would ever admit it. After all, as he had learned, the man only slapped his head when he actually deserved it. Right? "Pizza? And hot chocolate?"

Gibbs shook his head, looking amused for some reason. "Pizza and hot chocolate it is... And coffee for me. I know just the place for that."

They ended up spending the next hour together again; eating, drinking and talking. As if it was something they'd been doing for years, instead of months. It took few more months for Tony to realize how rare seeing such a side with Gibbs really was. Although he kept denying that to ever be true, he found himself thinking how it had to be the kind of relationship a father would have with his son. Thoughts like that were too dangerous, especially if he slipped and spoke them out... It would be crossing a line, which he couldn't risk.

Stepping out of the shower, Tony wiped away the steam on the mirror, staring at his pale reflection, at the stranger staring back at him with dull, tired eyes. When he smiled, the man in the mirror returned it. He wore on one of his flirty faces, and it did the same. He put on his stone hard, cold face, and then he got mad. It shouldn't be this easy.

By the time he came back to his senses, he didn't see his reflection anymore. The mirror was broken—what was it, seven years of bad luck? With his usual 'luck', he might just believe it—and his fist was bleeding. He almost laughed at the realization that even in the midst of his loss of control, he had used his left hand instead of the right one, which was his best shooting hand. Taking one of the towels, he wrapped his hand in it. "I wish I was cold as a stone..." he murmured.

After a while, after having dressed up and with his hand patched up, Tony realized he really had to eat something, or he'd end up passing out. He regretted it. Walking into the kitchen, he saw Gibbs, sitting behind the table and calmly reading a newspaper. There was a box of pizza on the table, which was most likely cold by now, or he would have smelled it.

"You were gone for a pretty long time. Was starting to wonder if I should go out and look for you," Gibbs said and looked up, glancing once at the sloppily bandaged hand, but didn't comment on it. It made Tony realize that the man most likely had heard him beating the crap out of his mirror. He wasn't sure, but he might have even yelled some. He felt mortified, and it was by sheer willpower alone that he wasn't blushing.

Crossing his arms over his chest, Tony glared. "What are you doing here, Gibbs?"

"Waiting for you. We still haven't finished that conversation."

"I have nothing else to say to you."

"Well, I have."

"Do whatever you want; I'm going to bed."

"Sit down!" Gibbs growled and Tony glared even more, but found himself obeying it without even realizing it at first. Like a good puppy, learning to obey his master. Cursed be it all... He was nobody's dog or a slave. Least of all Gibbs'.

Putting away the newspaper, Gibbs pushed the pizza toward Tony. "Eat."

"Not hungry right now."

"Not negotiable. You eat, or I will feed you myself."

"I'd like to see you try."

"Don't test me, DiNozzo."

Slowly, Tony reached his hand out and took one slice of pizza. One bite was enough to show him how hungry he truly was. Before he knew it, he had already finished five pieces of it. To make it even worse, it was just the way he liked it, even if it was cold. He really hated the bastard right now. It would be easier if that's all he felt.

Gibbs was pleased. At least something went right for a change. "Don't be mad at Ducky. He only wanted me to be the one to say it."

Frustrated, Tony grit his teeth. How hard was it to understand simple words because they had to keep beating the same old, probably dead horse? "I trusted him."

"And he didn't betray it. It's all on me." When Tony didn't say anything, only ate some more pizza, Gibbs took it as his cue to keep talking. "I don't claim to understand this dream of yours. A part of me is still trying to find some other explanation, but then you know things about me that only I know. Stuff that's not written anywhere and things I have never told anyone... I know you're mad at something, at me, over something I've done in some dream of yours, of all things. I'm not telling you to not be mad, but... could you try to go a little easier on me, see it from my perspective? I don't even know what it is this dream version of me has done to you. To me, it is just a dream. Maybe it is something more, I don't know."

Gibbs was silent for a moment, giving a moment for the words to hopefully sink in, and by now Tony was actually listening. He glanced at the emotionless mask, which, as usual, didn't betray whatever the young man was thinking about. "Come on, Tony... Talk to me. What did I do? For two years I've tried to figure it out, but you never let me close enough. There's always this... All those different masks on your face; a wall between me and you. You treat everything like it's some undercover situation."

Tony returned one of the last pieces he had been eating, in the box, and contemplated whether the consequences of shoving it in the man's face would be worth it.

"Is your whole life just some act, a movie script you follow? Aren't you getting tired of it? What kind of life is it?"

When Tony spoke, the bitterness in his tone was cutting. "What do you know? I mean, you're Gibbs, the mighty badass Gibbs who can do nothing wrong. Everyone seems to follow your lead, no matter what you do. Us lesser beings can't keep up with you. With the way things are, I'm sure there has to be an altar somewhere, built in your honor. I bet Abby knows where it is, if she didn't build it."

"That's not true..."

"And me? I'm the loyal servant who makes you look even better and fixes, sometimes hides the crap for you, keeping your rotten reputation as clean as I possibly can, to make sure that everyone thinks your bite is no worse than your bark. God help me if I don't do my duty. 'Let's hand it all to DiNozzo; he can take it. Let's use him until he ends up dead, quits, or goes mad.' I can't do that anymore, Gibbs. I don't have that kind of reserves anymore; I'm all out. You need to find another fool to take the part of the Jester in your court."

Gibbs was silent. The sharp, cutting words were full of wounded anger and hurt, and he couldn't help but wonder, "Is that now the dream you talking?"

Tony laughed. "The dream me? There is no dream me! Even if it's true that my dream and the reality are two separate things, there is only one me. Be it just a dream or whatever else, to me, it's all very much real. Whether in my head or not, I lived it. I don't know, maybe it's meant to be a lesson of some kind to me, a warning to not let certain things happen. What do I know; maybe I am crazy."

"You're not crazy."

"I'm not so sure about that, Gibbs," Tony said with weariness, not a hint of anger or bitterness anymore. He sounded just so plain tired, and it scared Gibbs. He had heard that tone of voice before and seen that same look in those eyes; seen it on, in people who had ended up taking their own lives or tried to. He hoped and prayed that he was overthinking, and that Tony really was just too tired to talk about this, nothing else.

Hesitating, Gibbs reached out his hand over the table and took Tony's good hand in his; he frowned at how cold it was. To his relief, the young man didn't pull it away. "You're not crazy."

"I'm tired, boss..."

"I know, so talk to me. You don't have to tell me everything. Just let me help you share the burden. At least some of it. I don't care how crazy it might be. You said it: to you, it is very real, doesn't matter what I think." He smiled ruefully. "It might even prevent future explosive moments between us, if we talked." He grimaced, functional mute that he was. "If we tried at least."

Tony frowned and almost pulled his hand away. "It matters to me."

"I wouldn't, couldn't think any less of you. I wanted you as my partner from the moment I met you. I couldn't understand why, but now I do. Do you honestly think that after two years, I would be willing to let you go without one big fight? Have you forgotten what a bastard I was just a little while ago when I thought you'd be leaving soon?"

Tony smiled slightly at the memory, but the frown was back before it could become a full smile.

"Don't worry about what I may or may not think. You may be good at reading me and know some secrets about me, but you can't read my mind. Just like I can't read yours, no matter what people may think. Don't write us off so soon. I know I'm not easy to deal with, but I'm not willing to give up so soon. It may be easier to give up, but what if you end up regretting it later? I know I will."

He knew the man was right. Of course he knew that. Tony closed his eyes for a moment, his shoulders drooping. Why couldn't he just not care?

"Talk to me, son... Talk to me."

Tony's eyes flew open.

Chapter Text

The temperature in the room had dropped several degrees. Before Gibbs realized the cause of it, the hand he was holding was pulled away; more like snatched. Gibbs furrowed his brows as Tony suddenly stood up. He could feel the anger radiating off the young man, and it confused him.

"Don't. Don't call me that."

"Call you what?" Gibbs' eyes widened slightly when it came to him. "Don't call you son?"

"Don't say it!" Tony reached out his hand toward the almost empty box of pizza, and for a moment Gibbs thought he was reaching for what was left of the pizza, but instead the whole thing was wiped off the table in a fit of rage. "Don't you ever call me that..." Just as suddenly as they appeared, all the energy and anger disappeared and Tony sounded tired again.

"I didn't mean anything by it." Gibbs frowned, trying to fix this, whatever this was, but obviously he had said the wrong thing. Again.

The anger flashed in the green eyes again. "You really don't get it, Gibbs? What am I even saying, of course you don't get it."

"Well, if you'd finally explain things to me, DiNozzo, then perhaps I would!"

With his palms flat against the kitchen table, Tony leaned closer and spoke with a low voice so unlike his, even he didn't recognize it. "Do you want to know what it is you did to me, Gibbs, in what to you is nothing but some crazy dream?"

The look on Gibbs' face was saying, 'you think? '

"You weren't that different from the you now. Dare I say, many of the differences are there because I'm making the difference. I refuse to let you just walk all over me and get away with it anymore. I know where it leads when you're allowed to do as you please. And I swear, Gibbs... I can't do it for the second time. Dream or reality, none of it matters when those memories are there in my head and the memory of how depressed and lost I became... Before I met you, I never knew that you could both hurt so much and feel numb at the same time. I swear, Gibbs, I can't do it again. It'll kill me this time. I know it will."

Gibbs flinched at the deep hurt he saw; so deeply rooted that he couldn't help but wonder if those feelings were there to stay, with no hope, no way to heal it away.

Tony started pacing around the kitchen. "I'll admit that you and I had a much better start in the dream. We became closer much faster, and while usually there's nothing wrong with that, this being us, maybe that was a part of the problem; you got what you wanted too easily. You brought me from Baltimore like some lost puppy, and for the first time, I started to trust someone. Really trust. And it was great, even if not perfect, but then I became a fool and let my guard down. Repeatedly. I was happy, you know. Happy with you, Abby and Ducky in my life. I finally felt like I had a family, a home I could go back to. And then..." The look on Tony's face became pained; saying that word almost physically hurt him. "You started treating me like your son. We never talked about it, you know. It was just always there in the little things and moments. You didn't often call me son, but when you did, I was so happy. And then that two-year mark came, and we were closer than ever. For the first time, I didn't get the usual need to move on. I was finally right where I belonged; at home."

Tony took the chair he had been sitting on before and sat down. He didn't look at Gibbs, knowing that the moment he would look in those sharp blue eyes, calculating his every move, he would be done.

"Then Kate came along, which was fine. Really. Even when you started distancing yourself from me and started to question my authority as the SFA for the first time. First with Kate, and it was fine for a while; I was still young and hopeful fool. First trusting, then hoping, that it would pass, and you would remember why you chose me. It never happened... I would lie in my deathbed, and while you did show in your own way that you cared, it was all forgotten as soon as I seemed all right. And Kate had an attitude problem then too, but she still had potential to become a fine Agent, if she was willing. But your lack of respect really didn't help there... Then probie joined us, and he was so green, and I'm still not sure if he was fit to be working in the field with us... If he would survive in the real world, where he had to remember that he was no Elf Lord."

Elf Lord? Gibbs opened his mouth to ask, but then closed it when Tony kept talking.

"By the time he came, it was like once you got the taste of it, you just couldn't stop it. I was the perfect whipping boy; both strong and weak enough to take it for as long as I did. There were some hurtful moments between all of us, and maybe I was just a little bit jealous too that I had to share your attention with the new kids." Tony smirked bitterly at the memory. "Besides, we weren't exactly given the best choice in agents. Could've had something to do with the fact that very few people were willing to work with you as their boss. But back then, I didn't really mind. As much as we could be mean and horrible to one another, in our weird twisted way, we were like a family, or so I thought, but I don't exactly have much experience of a real family. And then... Then it all went down to hell." Tony looked up to see the blue, unreadable gaze. "Kate was killed. After that... I really should have just left the NCIS."

"Killed?" Gibbs finally said, and with that he thought he finally understood at least something; Tony's reluctance to accept Kate on their team. "And then?" Gibbs said again when the silence between them became heavy, with Tony perhaps lost in some memories again. The glazed look in his eyes told as much.

- DREAM REALITY FLASHBACK -

Her blood was all over him and no matter what he did, he couldn't get it off.

Four years. It had been four years now since she was killed on that rooftop. Whenever he thought he was finally getting over it, something happened, which triggered memories he was still trying to forget. Memories that made him dream of that day again, like some broken record that kept going through that same moment over and over again, until he woke up, gasping for his breath and covered in sweat.

Whenever it happened, all he saw was her blood all over him again. So here he was, once again, in his shower in the middle of the night. Trying to wash it off. Trying to scrub it off, until his skin was almost bleeding red, raw and too tender to touch.

He'd seen plenty of deaths in his life and horrible ways to die, some even before he became a cop. Starting from his own mother, when he was just a small boy. So why this, why now, why her death?

"Tony?" Gibbs started to get worried, seeing the glazed look in the young man's eyes.

"I'm fine," Tony finally said, blinking slowly as his mind was slowly coming back from the box of memories inside his head. "You know, it doesn't even matter. Why should I have to explain anything to you? After all, it seems you have all the answers, just like you always do. You sure act like it anyway. Here you are, in my home, wanting me to explain something to you, when it's you who screwed up."

"DiNozzo..." Gibbs growled in warning.

"Let me finish, Gibbs. It's my home, my rules. Not yours." Tony held up his hand when Gibbs opened his mouth again before the man settled for an annoyed glare, unable to really say anything against that. "The reason why I lost it when you called me son is because it hurt so much more when you forgot what we had. It hurt so much more when you started treating me like I was worth nothing, not even my Senior Field Agent status. And not in your bastard Gibbs is only joking kind of way, but in ways that really hurt. To make it even worse, you made sure everyone knew just what you think of me. Call it petty or childish, and maybe it was partly my fault too, for letting things go that far in the first place, but I don't care anymore. You let me believe in something. You let me feel safe and wanted. Happy. Then you took it away, just like that." Tony snapped his fingers. "Like it had never been there in the first place. By the end of it, I myself could've just as well not been there. That's how much I was worth."

"Tony, I'd never..."

"I'm not going to share my deepest secrets with you, Gibbs, and do you know why? Because as much as we may have gotten closer since we met, maybe even friends, but moments like these prove to me that I still can't trust you."

"I'm sorry..."

Tony smiled sadly, almost pointing out Gibbs' own rule about apologizing. "No, you're not. Don't say you're sorry if you don't mean it. Maybe I'll start using that as one of my own rules..." Gibbs frowned, looking confused, and Tony stood up again. "How can you be sorry when you don't even know what to feel sorry for? Gibbs, I don't need that. I just need... I just want... For me, this is a new start, a chance to do things differently. I won't let you or anyone else to ruin it for me. Fool me once, shame on you. Fool me twice, shame on me. I'd like to go by that rule from now on."

"Is there really nothing I can do?" Gibbs asked quietly. "I don't like this. I can see how this whole thing is eating you up, your head filled with all this. Let me do something. Anything."

"It's my fight, Gibbs, whether you and I like it or not. My dream, my head, my problem. Obviously, there has to be some reason why I'm the one who ended up with it. We're not good, yet, and it's up to you if we ever will be." Clearly finished with his speech, Tony walked to the kitchen door, where he stopped again. "There is one more thing I want to share with you, though." Gibbs nodded encouragingly when he hesitated. "I need you to never forget two names; Ari Haswari and Ziva David. If you do ever hear anything about them, run as fast as you can and don't go all Captain Ahab, Gibbs. You don't know them the way I do, and if it's up to me, you never will... All I can say is that they destroyed what we still had, like slowly working poison."

"Tony..." Gibbs hesitated when Tony looked at him. "Thank you. And I'm sorry." This time he knew what he was saying sorry for, and he meant it. He knew from the small smile on the young man's face that he saw it too.

"Apology accepted," Tony said finally, but Gibbs could hear the unsaid words loud and clear, 'But we're still not good.' He listened as Tony took his keys and left the apartment again. He wondered just how badly he had screwed things up.

Leaving the apartment after a while, Gibbs went back home, thinking about the 'battle plan' he was going to have to make. He would never forgive himself if he'd let this ship sink before they even got to the sea. He almost laughed at his sudden realization. He was pissed off. At himself, at this dream version of himself who obviously was between everything he was trying to make right with DiNozzo and himself.

"I'll make it up to you, Tony. Somehow. I promise you..."

"Bad case?" Isaac asked when his favorite customer entered his bar. It didn't matter that there were other bars much closer to his home; this was where Tony would always come to. It was his special place, which he wasn't going to share with anyone else. Not before they passed a certain level of trust. He liked that he didn't even have to share it with his coma-self, although who knows, perhaps it would've done him good to have that. There was no way to know.

Tony sighed as he sat down. "You could say that... Give me something with plenty of mind-numbing alcohol in it. I feel like getting so drunk I won't even remember my own name for a while."

Isaac frowned. He had better keep an eye on the kid today... "All right then, I'll let you taste my new creation then. Someone said it tastes like crap, but they buy it anyway, so it must be good."

"Alcohol in it?"

"Plenty."

"I'll have that then," Tony muttered, and held his head in his hands. He sighed again when Isaac gave him one of those worried looks of his. "Don't look at me like that... I grew up with alcoholics; not gonna end up like them. Just need to not think anything for a little while..."

Isaac relaxed slightly. He made the drink for Tony, who, after tasting it, nearly spat it out.

"What did you put in this?" Tony coughed, while Isaac laughed. It was never boring to watch people taste it for the first time. "Calling it vile is a joke."

"I call it Dark Soul. People who wish to forget for a while, they love it. I mean, first they curse the taste and the man who made it, but soon they're dead to the world and only remember just how bad the taste was."

"Fitting..." Tony muttered and dared to drink more, albeit with the utmost care and shuddering at the offending taste. Strangely, it was pretty mind-numbing after only a few sips. Surprised, he looked up.

"Told you. It's becoming quite popular."

"In that case, be ready to make more of it."

"Oh, you won't be needing more. But if I were you, I'd pay up before you're too out of it." Isaac held out his hand and wiggled his fingers. Rolling his eyes, Tony threw the money on the table. Looking around to see if anyone else needed him, Isaac sat down. His usually happy face was now frowning with worry. "That bad, huh?"

"That bad..."

"Want to talk about it? You know I'm always ready to listen."

Tony shook his head. "I appreciate it, but I really don't feel like talking about it... I already opened my big mouth a little too much today. That's all."

"It's about that dream of yours, isn't it?"

Tony cursed Isaac's way of getting him to talk with some special tongue-loosening drinks of his. There was nothing else like it, he was pretty sure, and he'd faced Saleem and his truth serum, among other things. That was nothing next to Isaac. "You know... You really should've been hired by the government to make their truth serums and other magic potions for them. They could seriously learn a thing or two from you. Then again, maybe we're all better off this way. Take it from me; if you can help it, never work for the government. They're a nasty bunch, that crowd."

Isaac chuckled. "What, and leave you here on your own, with no one to make sure you at least eat once in a while? You're finally starting to get some meat over your skinny little bones. Can't let all my hard work go to waste."

They both became serious again, while Tony kept taking small sips of his drink, never without a grimace and a small shudder. "I was going to tell my boss about my sniper lessons since I figured he might want to know, maybe even give a few lessons of his own. I don't know what I was really thinking... Then he throws the bomb; he's known all along."

"He knew about the lessons?"

"No. Although, at this point, I wouldn't be surprised... I meant my dream. Turns out he heard when I told Ducky, two years ago. Then he has the nerve to... The nerve to call me son." Tony found talking suddenly so hard, and he had to think really hard before trying to form the words with his mouth. His tongue felt like it didn't belong in his mouth at all.

"You never seem to mind when I call you that."

Tony shrugged somewhat bashfully, but it took a while before the answer came, the words forming so badly that Isaac had a hard time understanding them all. "You're 'saac..." Tony mumbled and drank some more. He now understood why the drink was so popular; it was hard to think about anything. How dangerous, he thought. If Isaac had been his enemy and there he was, completely under his mercy...

He had to speak fast if he didn't want his words to go to waste, Isaac knew, so he went right into it. "You really care about your boss, don't you? You're afraid he's going to break your heart again."

"Ma'ing me'soun' li'e... girl."

"You don't have to be some love-struck girl to love and care about people. He's like a father to you, isn't he?"

Tony mumbled something and shrugged joylessly, blinking his eyes heavily, trying to focus.

Isaac smiled ferally. "Well, if this sniper boss of yours hurts you again, I'll mess with his coffee so that he can never drink any coffee again. Once I'm done with him and his taste buds, he'll never even look at coffee."

Tony laughed softly. "'at's... worst 'ing ever."

Isaac's fingers brushed through the young man's hair as Tony's head hit the table with a 'thud ', having just missed catching the head before it fell. He was feeling a little jealous, he had to admit. The kid reminded him of his son, his bright, sweet boy, who had died too soon. "That boss of yours is a lucky bastard indeed..." he muttered as he stood up. For a man of his age, it was with surprising ease that Isaac managed to carry the young man in the small room behind the bar. "Get some rest. I'll drive you home later."

Tony's only answer was to sigh and curl up on the old and worn couch. He wouldn't be having any dreams this time, and he could never be grateful enough for that short moment of calm.

Chapter Text

Gibbs felt pretty good after the night spent thinking on how to win over DiNozzo's trust. It also made him feel a little odd that he bothered when he hadn't done that with anyone else since Shannon, which made the whole situation even stranger. His good moment crumbled when entering the bullpen that morning, he saw the young man sitting behind his desk with his head between his hands, barely even glancing up when Gibbs sat behind his own desk. There wasn't even the usual, 'morning, boss,' or the many variations of it.

Sipping his coffee as a way to buy some time to come up with the right words, not that he ever needed a reason to drink coffee, Gibbs finally said, "Rough night, DiNozzo?" He was so close to start preaching about drinking on a school night, but since he was pretty sure what the reason to get drunk was, he decided to keep his mouth shut for now.

"You could say that," Tony muttered carefully. He'd woken up early in the morning in his own bed, with no memory of how he ended up in there. The last very foggy memories were of Isaac, his bar, and drinking something that tasted like... something indescribable. He might never get the foul taste out of his mouth. As far as he could remember, he never even finished that one glass of the drink.

"Don't make it a habit."

"Yes, boss. No, boss. I won't, boss..."

Kate entered the bullpen looking equally hangover, although she did try her very best to look as normal as she could. Of course, Gibbs' eyes didn't miss anything.

"You drink on a school night again, don't bother coming to work," he growled.

Kate flushed red, and she sat slowly behind her desk, every movement causing additional discomfort. "Yes, Gibbs..." She glanced at her partner, who looked at least just as miserable as she felt. She thought gleefully that at least she wasn't the only one suffering today. The saying 'misery loves company' was very fitting in this case.

"DiNozzo."

"Yes, boss?" Tony glanced up from his desk with a pinched look on his face.

"Go get some coffee. You're gonna need it."

That's it? Kate frowned, and then even more at the gentle tone Gibbs had used when talking to the young man.

"On it." Tony stood up carefully and left the room.

"Gibbs..."

"Not now, Kate," Gibbs snapped.

Drinking his coffee, Tony stepped into the elevator. Just the fresh air alone had made him feel better. It was nowhere near enough, but still much better than before. Pressing the elevator button to take him to the morgue, he leaned against the wall, rubbing his forehead. His head was still trying to kill him, and he hoped everything would go well. He was mad at Ducky, but he still liked the old man and didn't want their friendship to end up ruined because of something like this. By the time he finally walked into the room, he looked much more relaxed than what he really was.

"Anthony, my boy." Ducky smiled when he noticed the silent man standing there by the door.

"Can we talk?"

"Of course... Gerald," Ducky turned to speak to his assistant, "would you please be so kind and get us some breakfast?"

"Sure thing." Gerald nodded, and smiling at Tony, who barely returned the smile, he left, leaving the two men to stare at each other.

Finally, breaking the silence, Tony walked closer, leaning against the clean autopsy table. "You ever think about redecorating this place? I mean, it still looks just the same when I walked into this room the first time. Maybe add some color on the walls or something, you know, to make this place look a little happier. Not that there's anything happy about dead people, of course, unless it's some bad guy who killed other people."

"Anthony."

"Right. I'm rambling." Tony chuckled nervously, and then he bit at his tongue, hoping it would stop him from rambling again. "You remember that day I walked in here? You know, the day."

"How could I forget?" Ducky smiled gently. Patiently.

"Yeah, you're right. I did end up telling you this crazy story about how we had already met." Setting his coffee mug on the autopsy table, Tony started playing with one of Ducky's tools on the table, wondering how many bodies it had been cut open with. He then picked up the 'scissors'. Of course, he had seen Ducky use them before, but he was mentally preparing himself for whatever outcome their talk would lead to, which was why he asked, "What's this for?"

"To open the intestines."

Dropping it back on the table, Tony walked around the table and stopped next to Ducky, where the man hadn't stopped working on the body. Staring at the bloody mess unseeingly, Tony finally asked, "You know how big my trust issues are, right?"

"I certainly do, my boy... Could you please hand me the toothed forceps?"

Walking to where the tools were, Tony picked it up. "This?"

"Yes. That one."

Handing it to the man, Tony stepped back to watch the work being done. "Gibbs and I had a little talk yesterday."

"What was it about?"

"He... revealed me a few things. Things that didn't exactly make me happy, and I might have even snapped at him because of it."

Ducky stopped working for a moment, looking at Tony. "I see... So Jethro did indeed finally tell you the truth."

"What? How?"

"He told me."

"Of course he did."

The silence between them was painful. It almost never was silent when the two of them spent time together, and yet right now Ducky was waiting for Tony to say something, and Tony tried to ignore the suddenly growing headache. Doing this with a hangover might not have been such a good idea after all. All he really wanted to do right now was to go home and sleep.

It was Ducky who finally spoke, with a hint of shame and looking concerned. "Anthony... I apologize. I know I should have let you know the moment I found out Jethro had been listening."

"You're right, so why didn't you?" Tony forced his voice to remain calm. As upset as he was, he didn't want to yell at Ducky, like he'd scream at Gibbs. Not to mention all the times he actually even felt like punching his boss in the face. Although that reaction was mostly all thanks to the 'dream Gibbs' and the memories he had of him. His random flashbacks certainly didn't make things any easier.

"I had been hoping that Jethro would have told you himself, although much sooner than this. I didn't want to be the one you heard it from. Certainly not after you made it clear how easy it is to make you leave. I am sorry, Anthony... If it ever happens again, you have my word I will not keep it to myself."

Tony sighed and closed his eyes for a few seconds. Forgiving Ducky came much easier than forgiving Gibbs. "You're forgiven... if you do me a favor."

"Certainly. What do you need?"

"Do you still have those pain meds you usually give to me?"

"Of course. They are where I always keep them. What did you do yourself this time?" Ducky frowned, wondering how he hadn't noticed any injuries.

"Just a hangover. And my head feels a bit... floaty." At least it wasn't as bad as it had been when he woke up, plus he was able to think again.

"Anthony..."

"He didn't tear me a new one for drinking during school night, and I already promised to not make a habit out of it."

Ducky chuckled. "You misunderstood me... I was going to ask if you are all right."

"I'm fine." Tony shrugged. He then decided to not let there be left any other misunderstandings. "You know how big my trust issues are, Ducky. I get it why you didn't tell me, but I'm still not sure how much I can share with you after this; how much I'm willing. It will take a while to build up that level of trust again..."

"I understand." Ducky smiled sadly, knowing he would have to earn it back.

"I know it's stupid. It's not like you actually told people my secrets behind my back or anything."

"No, Anthony. It's not stupid."

Tony sighed, rubbing his forehead. "Thank you for... For understanding."

"No, thank you."

They shared a short moment of understanding; very short, since that's when Gerald rushed back. "I didn't interrupt something again, did I?"

"No. You came just in time." Tony gave a friendly pat on Gerald's shoulder as he left, picking up his somewhat lukewarm coffee on the way out.

Gibbs sat behind his desk, not doing much, other than glancing at the time now and then. He was starting to feel a little worried when DiNozzo still hadn't returned. His hand went more than once toward his phone, but he stopped it each time before he did. He couldn't believe how one man made him worry so much and the way he preferred knowing where DiNozzo was or else he became agitated. It was not something he would freely admit to anyone though.

The elevator doors opened, revealing three men. Like most people in the bullpen, Gibbs didn't pay much attention to it, although now was one of those times when he probably should have. As it was, he barely even glanced and when he saw that it wasn't Tony, he lost whatever interest he may have had. Two of the men were their own agents, but the one in the middle looked old enough to retire. The man between the agents didn't follow them, instead he stood there for a moment, until he finally moved. What happened next, happened too fast to give anyone time to stop it.

Pointing his gun at Gibbs, the man screamed, "Leroy Jethro Gibbs!"

The whole bullpen was suddenly deadly silent, as if someone had pressed the 'freeze button' to freeze time around the man and his weapon.

Gibbs stared at the man and tried to think if he knew him, but he came up with nothing. Truth be told, he had made far too many enemies during the years to remember all of them. He kept his voice steady and calm when he said, "Look, why don't you put that thing down, and we can talk."

"There will be no talking, Agent! I came here for one reason only; to kill you, you bastard!"

"It's my middle name," Gibbs stated calmly. In his mind, he was cursing himself for spending too much time with Dinozzo, since it sounded just like something that fool would say in a situation like this. It had been a reason for several head-slaps.

"Shut up!" The man didn't give anyone another chance to talk or stop him. He knew how they would try to buy some extra time and try to talk him out of this or take him out before he made his move. He knew all those trick; he had been doing this work much longer than Agent Gibbs, the man whose backup his son had been weeks ago, only to be killed in a shooting between the 'victim' and the agents. This so-called victim had then been sent to live in some fancy crazy house, with the blessing of Agent Gibbs. There was no justice in that. It was unforgivable!

Gibbs stood frozen. Not that he was scared or anything, he wasn't, but he worried that now he might never get the chance to make things right with Tony. From the corner of his eye, he saw movement; one of the agents, he assumed. There were two gunshots, one just a split second sooner than the other, and Gibbs felt one of the bullets graze his left arm. He barely even flinched, staring at his shooter, who was screaming in agony as he held his right hand, now covered in blood. A bullet had gone through it, taking one of the fingers with it.

Tony stood there with his eyes cold. He had fully intended to shoot to kill, but changed his mind right before shooting, knowing that killing in cold blood wouldn't do him any good. Not when he didn't have to kill. He was a killer, not a murderer. Even if no one else would find out, he'd know the difference, and it would haunt him later. So instead, the bullet had hit the hand holding the weapon, which wasn't something he had aimed for per se. The people staring at him didn't know it, since there were some looks of awe. Others were either impressed or calmly professional, the latter being the first to deal with the situation. The weeping and cursing man was taken away without fight, leaving the finger somewhere where it would be found much later.

"Boss, are you all right?" Tony rushed to where his team was, leaving his gun on his desk. His worry was written all over his face, and he wasn't trying to hide it.

"Ah, Tony..." Gibbs walked forward and almost pulled the man into a hug. Since it would have ruined his bastard image doing it in front of everyone and Tony probably wasn't ready for that either, he simply laid his hand over the shoulder. "That was some shot, DiNozzo. And from that spot... Should shoot like that more often. If I find out you've been holding back..."

Glancing around the room, Tony looked at Gibbs. Feeling uncomfortable. "It was a lucky shot. I was aiming for someplace else. It could've ended up much worse. You could've... I should have shot in the head or something."

Gibbs hit the back of Tony's head, leaving his hand there. He said again, "Some shot, DiNozzo. Although, next time it better not be just a lucky shot." He grinned evilly. "Now that I know what you're capable of, I'll know exactly how much more I can expect from you at the shooting range."

Tony swallowed. "Couldn't let him kill you, boss."

"Oh, really?"

"Boss... We're not okay, but I'd never..."

"I got it." Forgetting his previous decision, Gibbs pulled Tony into an uncharacteristic hug, not hearing the shocked gasp coming from his other Agent.

Although he froze for a moment, Tony allowed himself to relax. Just for this one time, he told himself. Just for now. He tried to keep his mind calm, but from the corner of his eye he saw where the bullet had grazed Gibbs, and the memory, and the moment of understanding that this was it, finally reached his emotions. The moment when he realized that Gibbs was going to be killed, and no one was doing anything. Surely there could have been one person with the brains and opportunity? Maybe he was being a little unfair... And Gibbs was still alive. That was the most important part. He still had to let off some steam later, though.

"You did good," Gibbs whispered as he felt the slight tremors.

A little too soon, Tony pulled away, catching a glimpse of Kate staring at them with a thoughtful look on her face. He knew that he couldn't keep avoiding her attempts to talk with him. She obviously had noticed how he kept calling her, 'Agent Todd,' and never joined in the playful banters that she tried to start with him. A part of him would have loved to jump in since arguing with Kate had been one of his favorite things, when it didn't go too far, of course... But he couldn't trust himself or her enough to allow that to happen right now. He liked her, really did, but he was just too worried and focused on making sure 'history' didn't repeat itself. Maybe he was a bit too focused. At this rate, he'd never start actually living his life. This life. The real life. Not the dream and always thinking about it and what could happen and how to stop those things from happening... No wonder he was so tired all the time. He could not possibly keep doing this much longer without finally losing it and ending up with some sort of mental breakdown.

"You know we're never going to live this one down... You won't be able to live it down, boss."

Gibbs grumbled and glared at the few agents still staring at them, making them squirm and leave the scene. "Watch me."

Some things never changed, and with some of it, Tony was glad to have it so. He needed the change, the difference, but he also needed the safety of something 'old' and familiar. However, much as he needed that, his biggest and constant fear was that Gibbs would let him feel and see his caring side, only to snatch it back the moment he would get used to it.

Please don't do that to me again, Gibbs...

Chapter Text

"Kate! Don't move!"

Kate froze and turned around to stare at Tony, who had yelled at her out of the blue. She was glad he had finally gone from constantly calling her, 'Agent Todd,' to using her nickname, but she didn't appreciate it being used in such a manner and place as this; at the crime scene, with a bunch of curious onlookers as their audience. And there seemed to be way too often someone with a video camera recording everything they could. "What?" she snapped.

"Don't. Move," Tony repeated and walked next to her with careful steps and keeping his eyes down. Crouching down, he took a picture of her feet.

Kate huffed with indignation. "Tony, I worked for the Secret Service. I think I know what I'm doing. I can't say the same about you, though. What are you doing?"

He looked up with an unreadable expression on his face. "That's great. Good for you. You just stepped on the evidence."

"What? Oh..." she gasped as she finally looked down and saw something that looked like a partial bloody footprint. It was hard to tell for sure now, since she was covering most of it with her foot. From the corner of the eye, she saw Gibbs striding toward them with fiery eyes. The boss had obviously seen and heard the whole thing. Looking down where Tony was working around her shoe, trying to salvage what he could, Kate tried sending silent pleas for help to him. She had heard many stories about the fury of Gibbs and having already been around Gibbs on a 'normal day', she really didn't want to find out the worst of him.

Tony could feel her eyes on him and recognized Gibbs' angry footsteps getting closer, so he didn't have to guess to know that she was anxious and trying to get his attention, maybe thinking that he would help her out. No such luck. Tony kept his eyes on the evidence, even as he could already hear Gibbs' angry huff of breath, the angry beast eager to be let loose. He wouldn't be surprised if Gibbs had actual steam coming from his nostrils. "I'm going to need your shoe, Kate."

"What?"

"Your shoe. It's got some evidence on it, so I need you to give it to me."

"Oh. Right," Kate mumbled. Her mind was right now occupied by the thoughts of her boss, feeling like a dog with the tail between her legs as her very angry master had caught her breaking something precious to him.

Walking away from Kate, who still didn't even dare to move from her spot, Tony kept his face neutral. It was much harder than it looked to not jump between her and Gibbs' wrath. This was against his very nature, and the inner struggle was serious. It was one thing to stop being the wall between other people and Gibbs on a normal day. This, however, was stepping into a whole new level, and he was having a huge battle within himself. He knew that most people would not tolerate someone like Gibbs as their boss, but he was used to being treated like someone's piece of rag, something that was used to wipe the dirt off the floor when needed and then tossed back in the corner until next time, if he didn't end up being completely forgotten.

Done with saving the evidence, Tony quickly disappeared inside the building where the body was. Ducky and Gerald were already there, and they looked at him inquiringly, when they heard Gibbs' roaring outside. Seeing a glimpse of Gibbs and Kate facing each other, Tony turned away. Although he could hear the very loud chewing out, he preferred to not watch it. He had decided to no longer take Gibbs' temper on himself, and to no longer consider it as his duty to take care of it and whatever mess it left behind. This was going to be the first real test for him. As he listened to the anything but professional screaming, he was starting to fear he wouldn't last. Unable to stop himself, Tony walked to the window. After observing the two for a while, he smiled. Sure, he felt bad for Kate, and he didn't exactly enjoy this, but he couldn't help but feel a little proud of how she was taking it all. Why hadn't he done things this way before?

"Where's Kate?" Gibbs asked when he returned to the bullpen, after having been 'summoned' by the Director to talk about his recent behavior toward his subordinate.

Tony looked up from the paperwork. "She went to see Abby."

"There's no time for her to be wasting it on some gossip!"

"Actually, it was something case-related. She found a link between the Lieutenant and our sweet innocent Colonel, which she went to confirm with Abby's help."

"I never ordered her to do that."

"I did, boss," Tony said calmly, silently daring Gibbs to piss him off. Like, using his own personal favorite, telling how it was he, Gibbs, who was the boss. Not Tony. That his second-in-command or not, Tony had no right to be placing any orders. The 'old Gibbs' surely would have told something like that or given his nastiest look and then head-slapped his Agent all the way to the next week and beyond.

After watching for almost a couple of days how his boss had gone all-out fury of 'someone drank the last drop of coffee on the whole earth and that someone wasn't Gibbs ', Tony was way over his own act of 'just sit back and relax '. Not that he couldn't do it, but the whole thing was starting to not only affect their own team as a whole, but also those around them. Although, it was just a little amusing how, for the last days, the area around them always seemed to be void of other people. Even he himself hadn't realized just how much difference it could make when Gibbs' attention was lured toward something else. Even if that something was the poor head of one Senior Field Agent. With some humor, Tony wondered if that's what this all was; Gibbs had head-slapped his SFA all the way into the past.

Gibbs stared at him for a while and then finally grunted something unpleasant under his breath and sat behind his desk without another word.

"Hey, boss. I think we would work much better after a break. If you go ahead, I'll join you as soon as I have made sure Kate knows. What do you think?"

Gibbs hesitated, as a part of him wanted to keep punishing Kate by denying that extra break, but he wasn't in the mood for another visit to the Director's office. "All right."

When Tony made his way to the lab, he stopped outside the room when he heard the two women talking. Well, mostly it was Kate talking and releasing some of the steam from her system while Abby listened patiently.

"...and then he made me go down into the sewer. There were plenty of other people there who could have done it, but of course Gibbs just had to make me do it. I wasn't even dressed for such activity. I swear, that stench won't leave my nostrils for weeks."

"You wouldn't believe how many designer outfits I have ruined in this job, Kate. I've wept over so many old and new favorites." Tony startled the women as he spoke and entered the room with a cheerful smile. "It's something we must always be prepared for if you don't wish to carry a spare set of clothes everywhere you go to. There's no way to know for sure what kind of day is waiting for us. I blame the bad guys and Gibbs. It's hard to both look professional and be practical because of them."

Abby had only one thought in her mind, and she put on her upset face. "Tony! Both you and Gibbs have forgotten to bring me my Caf-Pow today!"

"Do you remember how many Caf-Pows you had yesterday?"

"A few."

"Well, that explains it." As it often seemed to be the case, Abby's few meant a 'mild' case of a caffeine overdose. "You know that Gibbs hasn't been in a good mood lately. With you high on caffeine didn't exactly make his mood any better."

"Gibbs would have told me if I was annoying him. Right..?"

Tony shook his head, hiding a smile, but his eyes were twinkling. "If you promise that Gibbs won't find out, I'll bring you one after I come back from our coffee break."

Abby made a gesture of zipping her mouth close. "No one will ever know."

"Did Gibbs send you to look for me?" Kate asked, looking like she would really much rather remain where she was.

"No. We decided it's time to take a break. That's what I came to tell you about. We could all use a moment without thinking about the case... So once we're back, you can let Gibbs know all about what you found."

"What I found?" Kate was confused, but Tony was already gone by the time she understood what he had meant. "I don't know how he does it," she said after a moment of silence in the lab that was usually never without some kind of loud music on.

"Get along with Gibbs?"

"That's one way to put it, but yes."

"It's not that they get along or anything..." Abby pursed her lips. "It's more like Gibbs keeps trying to earn the trust of a sad, hurt little puppy who doesn't trust anyone and bites if you get too close. His bark is not worse than his bite; trust me. Tony can be just as scary as Bossman if he wants to... Or maybe Gibbs is trying to adopt him or something. At this point, who really knows anymore."

Kate had a flashback from some weeks ago. The two grown men in their terribly awkward hug after the shooting incident in the bullpen, which even she knew was way out of character for both of them. "They... Gibbs... What?"

"I didn't say that. Even Gibbs doesn't know it yet, so you heard nothing. Okay?"

Kate smiled. "I got it. I won't speak. My lips are sealed."

"So, where were we?" Abby was referring to the talk before Tony had walked in.

Kate had a surprised look on her face. "It's strange, but I don't feel anywhere near as mad anymore. Actually, I don't even remember what I was talking about."

Gibbs was already sitting and drinking his second cup of coffee by the time Tony finally joined him in the coffee shop.

Drinking the good coffee, and being surrounded by freshly made coffee scent, had calmed him down, and he'd had time to think. Perhaps he was being a little too hard on his newest Agent, but why should he treat her any differently than he had been treating all the other agents who had been working with him? In fact, she hadn't even seen the worst of him yet. He was also feeling rather disappointed in himself since it had been he who chose her, which likely added to his anger. Sure, it had been under the pressure put on him by the Director, but still... At least he should have talked with Tony—his second-in-command—before deciding anything. Actually, the real question might have to be why was he treating DiNozzo so differently compared to everyone else. In reality, he did know the answer, but he wasn't ready to acknowledge it yet. Although, he was pretty sure that they would be okay with this, possibly even happy for him. At least, he hoped they would be.

"Hey, Laura," Tony greeted the waitress with a charming smile as he sat down.

"Tony. What does your heart desire today? The usual?" The young woman returned the smile. It didn't matter that there was now a ring on her finger. The young Agent was still her favorite customer, even if the man had never done more than some flirting with her in the past.

"The usual and... I think I'll be brave today and try some of that cherry pie you have there. It looks so good." Once he had both the slice of pie and coffee in front of him, Tony sighed with pleasure, taking the first sip of the still too hot coffee. "I think she'll spend her coffee break with Abby," he said to Gibbs.

"Good."

"Hmm... I also think she's received her punishment by now."

Gibbs scowled without much heat. "She screwed up. Her mistake could have cost everything."

"I know it, you know it, she knows it, everyone knows it. She even apologized, didn't she? I mean, it's not like she completely ruined our crime scene or anything. It wasn't even a string of bad mistakes."

Gibbs remained silent, but he was listening, although it took Tony to notice it. Most people would just think the older man was completely ignoring everything.

"I don't know if you've noticed it, but lately the atmosphere in our team has been really bad, and even the other people are being affected by it. I've worked far too many years in such toxic environment, and I am not going to go down that road again."

"Is that a threat, DiNozzo?" Gibbs snarled, not liking to be given any ultimatums. No matter who gave them to him.

"No, boss, not a threat. It's a promise."

The corners of Gibbs' mouth finally twisted into a smile. "You're quoting me a little too much sometimes, DiNozzo."

"I do learn some good things from you every once in a while, and you know how I love my movie quotes, so don't expect me to not use yours." Tony raised his eyebrow and then turned around to ask for another plate, cutting the already generous piece of pie into two. He gave the other half to Gibbs, who had been eyeing the thing. "She's new, and even older agents like yourself still make mistakes for years to come. Don't look at me like that; you know I'm right. My point is that she has plenty of time to screw things up. Save some of your wrath and punishments for a future use."

Gibbs looked amused. "When did you become so smart, DiNozzo?"

"I've always been smart." Tony grinned cheekily.

Kate watched as Tony actually stood up after Gibbs had ordered them to go home, before some redhead had come to take the boss somewhere. The case was finally closed, and they would have the next day off. She felt like she could breathe again.

"You know, it's good to have you as Gibbs' Second. I don't know how many others would have done what you did."

Tony looked over his shoulder. Seeing Kate looking at him with her 'profiler mode' on, he mentally rolled his eyes and then smiled guilelessly. "What are you talking about?"

"I know you did or said something to Gibbs. I'm obviously still not his favorite person, but at least he stopped treating me like someone who can't tell the difference between my right and left hand."

"It would be great to take all the credit, but you're thanking the wrong person; I have nothing to do with it. I know better than most people that Gibbs is a tough boss to work with and more demanding than most, but even he can show some mercy now and then. Maybe he thinks you've been punished enough. Although if I were you, I'd pay from now on more attention to my surroundings. Especially on a crime scene."

Tony walked to the elevator, and while he waited for the doors to open, Kate joined him. She obviously had learned her lesson from Gibbs because she waited until they were inside the elevator and the doors had closed before she spoke. At least she didn't stop the elevator. "Tony... Thank you."

He never said anything, but the faint smile caressing his lips eased a little of the worry she had been carrying for weeks now. Perhaps now they could finally become proper partners. It was hard to work with people you didn't get along with. They could help you get through a tough case, or they could make your life a living hell. Gibbs had done far more than his share of proving that to her. Rarely did some rumors around most people end up being complete truth. Without Tony, she couldn't see herself remaining on this team for too long.

"There's something that's been bothering me for a while now. Do you hate working with me? Do you hate me?" When he didn't answer, there was a sinking feeling in her stomach.

Tony remained silent until they stepped out. Once outside, he stopped to finally look at her properly. "I would stop the bullet meant for you, Kate. That's all you need to know." He walked away when he saw her opening her mouth again. "Enjoy your day off, Kate. I know I will."

Chapter Text

It was the first time since... Actually, he couldn't remember the last time. It was the first since forever almost, when he'd had his last peaceful day, and also had a whole day off to enjoy it doing whatever he pleased. And he wasn't injured either. Even his mind wasn't chaotic for a change, or at least it wasn't waging war against him. It was so nice, he could weep, if he were the type to cry easily.

So maybe he shouldn't have tested the joy of it all and just stayed at home, doing the whole, 'sit back, watch some movies and just relax', as he had told everyone. But then, instead of ordering some pizza, he decided to go for a run and maybe stop by for some of that 'DiNozzo special '. Surely Isaac would've been happy to have his company while he wasn't in need of some distraction.

He hadn't been completely clueless; that's what made it so annoying. Although life sometimes felt close enough to being normal again, but then that phone call happened...

- FLASHBACK -

Walking out of the elevator, side by side, the two men were refreshed and ready to get back to work. Seeing Kate already there and working, Tony cleared his throat loudly while looking at Gibbs, who held back his urge to roll his eyes.

"Make sure there's enough real coffee for me, and I'll behave."

Kate looked up tiredly when she saw them. She was stressed out and hadn't dared to use her coffee break. Instead, she had been working on the case for almost the whole time the other two were gone. "What's so funny?" She asked, seeing the amused grin on Tony's face. Hopefully, that amusement wasn't for her... She was already dreading the whole idea of more long hours of working under Gibbs' watchful, merciless eyes; a slave driver if ever there was one.

"Nothing. Boss was just being himself."

"DiNozzo..."

"On it, boss. Getting back to work now, boss. Kate, why don't you share what you and Abby found?" Tony suggested pleasantly and sat down behind his desk. He then tuned out both Kate and Gibbs when his phone rang. Glancing up, he saw that neither one of the two paid any attention to him now; both trying and failing at speaking the same language. Seeing the familiar number, his mind went numb. He had hoped that somehow this day would never come... Hope wasn't for fools like him.

And perhaps that's why he now was in this situation: sitting in the car, blindfolded, and a gun held against his head. Had he not tried to keep his life as normal as possible, he wouldn't be here right now. Eugene was going to be so mad at him. After all that training... And Gibbs was going to kick his ass for not answering his phone if the man decided to call him.

"So, all this for not answering one phone call? A bit dramatic, isn't it?" The answer was to have the unknown weapon holder push the gun harder against his head. Someone swore loudly in Italian.

"Peppino! We were ordered to bring him back alive!"

"Father never said we couldn't toughen him up. I swear, Paolo, this guy has a mouth too big for his own good. If he keeps using it, my trigger finger might just slip."

"Then keep it off the trigger."

"Sure, why not just hand him the gun while we're at it."

Tony kept his mouth firmly shut, this time. Obviously, the two didn't know he understood every word they were saying, and he liked to keep it that way. For now. Meanwhile, while they were loudly arguing, Tony slowly worked on freeing his hands, which were tied up behind his back. It was almost too easy, with these two failing being criminal masterminds. They had taken from him everything that could be used as a weapon, true, but he was prepared to improvise. He always was at his best when improvising and working under pressure. Once his hands were free, he listened closely, trying to figure out whether anyone was looking at him right now. At least the gun wasn't about to drill a hole in his head anymore. Mentally feeling Gibbs slapping his head, Tony muttered his reply silently, "Not like you wouldn't take that chance, boss, so please shut up while I'm trying to think."

Knowing that his next move could be his last, in one swift move, Tony removed the blindfold and grabbed the gun from Peppino, whose eyes widened just a moment before he let out a choking sound. Paolo, who was driving, hit the brakes, stopping the car in the middle of the empty road. "I would say that we're at an impasse, but that'd be a lie. Thank you so much for the weapon; very considerate of you. Not exactly what I would have chosen, but it'll do," Tony praised them cheerfully, while they remained speechless and clearly not prepared for their prisoner to both break free and take over the control of the situation. His one arm was firmly around Peppino's throat, just tight enough to make the man panic, while the other was pointing the small handgun at Paolo. The weapon was shockingly small; the trigger almost too small for his finger. A proper young lady's weapon in a purse, one in preschool. How embarrassing, for the owner of the weapon, and him for having to use it. In all honesty, it looked more like a replica of a children's toy, and not the other way around.

"So, which one of you tells me what the old Voltolini wants?" He couldn't see the look on Peppino's face, but Paolo looked startled, while his twin brother kept struggling; gasping for his breath, the man didn't realize it was his own panic causing his distress.

If he wanted, he could've made them drive him all the way back to D.C., but he had been listening to them talking on the way toward the Baltimore area, and now he was too curious for his own good. Curious and almost like Gibbs on a bad day, when the man was ready to shoot someone over one cup of spilled coffee. What he did know was that they were likely heading to the same place where they had been taken last time by Teddy. So he could also just tie them up, leave them on the road somewhere and drive there himself. For the first time, he truly realized just why there wasn't any warm and fuzzy feelings from daddy Angelo toward his children. While he had no idea what kind of people the others were like, these two certainly acted all tough, but when it came down to the real deal, they were cowards; one scared to death when he himself was causing the misery, the other afraid of a tiny handgun, which wouldn't necessarily even cause too big of a damage, from that distance.

"I guess this leaves just you then, Paolo," Tony finally said in Italian, when no answer was forthcoming.

"Father, he..." Paolo swallowed, his eyes never leaving the tiny weapon in Tony's hand, making the hand look positively gigantic. "We don't know what he wants from you. He gave us orders and we are following them. That is all."

Tony narrowed his eyes, studying the man about ten years his senior, who had gone from his tough, 'get in the car if you don't want your brains decorating the streets,' to almost ready to wet his pants. Why would Voltolini send these after him? Was it to insult him? Shaking his head, Tony searched from his memory the face of the old man. Finding it, he looked Paolo in the eye and with his best 'daddy Voltolini' act, he snarled, "Take me to him." When Paolo was clearly bemused by the request, Tony raised his voice, using Italian again. "Now."

Standing by the window of his study, covered in tall cypress shelves, massive desk, and dark decor, stood Angelo. Mostly because from there he had the best view of anyone coming to the house, but it was also his personal 'safe room', should anything happen, complete with a secret door and room. When he saw the car screeching halt in front of the house, he had to laugh. Perhaps he had made things too easy for the Detective, no, Agent. That was a nice upgrade, and he felt quite proud. So, yes, he had made things too easy, but he had known the young man would come; either because of curiosity or anger, didn't matter. Watching as his sons—embarrassment to the family name—allowed the barely even a man to order them around, Angelo shook his head and went to the phone laying on his desk and called the kitchen, giving an order to bring something to eat and drink for him and his 'guest'.

It took a mere four minutes and seventeen seconds for Anthony to find his way in the room; he timed it. In a house this big that was impressive, which was what Angelo said the moment the door nearly flew open, with Paolo almost falling inside the room, "Impressive, and close to the record, which is still held by myself from my younger days."

"You two. Scram," Tony said, and finally released Peppino, who couldn't get lost fast enough. Together with his brother, they disappeared like water in the Sahara. Then Tony waved at Angelo with the gun in his hand. "And you. Talk."

Angelo took one look at the weapon, and he snorted. "You do not scare me with your toy, Anthony."

"Not my toy; your son's. Figured that it won't, but I needed to check that stupidity doesn't run in the family. It's not even loaded, as I found out. Small or not, bullets aren't weightless." Seeing the big chair, Tony put away the 'toy' and then sank into the heavenly leather throne with a sigh. It was way better than the President's chair in the Air Force One. "You made me come all the way here, on my very rare and much-needed day off. My time is limited, so talk." While Tony was still speaking, the food and drinks were brought into the room. He didn't even glance toward any of it. He preferred the chair of the king. "I'm marrying this chair."

Angelo's lips twitched. He didn't seem to mind that his seat had been taken, despite the fact that Tony was pretty sure that was uncharacteristic behavior. He took the smaller chair and sat down with a dignified sigh, a king tolerating his lowly subject, and rolled his thumbs. "Two years, Anthony. I was hoping you would have called me by now. I am hurt."

Tony hummed at the pleasant way the chair supported his ass. After the tormenting, numbing car ride, it was too wonderful for words. Speaking of which, the car hadn't been good for his long legs either. He squirmed for a moment and then finally raised his feet on the desk. Now it was perfect. "I never had any intention of calling you. And my phone number is private, not to mention I keep changing it at least once per year. I'm surprised you had it."

Angelo frowned at the feet. "I have my ways."

"You've done a background check on me," Tony stated blankly, while the old man smiled and leaned back in his own chair.

"And you have done it on me, so I believe we are even. Now, I know that there is some information you have been unable to find. Am I correct?"

Tony kept the look on his face neutral, wondering which information Voltolini was referring to.

"Ziva David. I believe that is the name?"

Even while startled and more than a little worried, Tony kept the mask firmly on his face. "What do you want? You're not handing over any information freely, or you would've just phoned me."

"I could have, if you had picked up your phone."

"Or sent the information to me through some other ways. Enough with the games, Voltolini. Why am I here?"

"I want to make a deal with you. Please, allow me to finish explaining before you stop me."

Tony gave him a blank stare. He had a bad feeling, rolling deep in his gut, which, of course, wasn't surprising. It shouldn't take a genius to figure out that everything about the man was only bad news. One way or another.

"Thank you... I am an old man. While my own generation is still strong, we are slowly dying and our children are weak. As you know, my hands are not clean, and they never will be, but I will let you know a secret. My children are weak because our blood is not what it used to be, but also because I raised them weak. They chose their ways, but it was I who allowed them to be, as a revenge against my own father, but that is a story for another time."

Tony briefly glanced at the door when one of Voltolini people stepped inside the room, a woman who looked strangely familiar. She glanced at their sitting arrangement with slight surprise on her otherwise unreadable face.

"I want you to marry my daughter." Coming from Angelo, it sounded more like 'you will '.

"What?" Tony gaped, and the woman walked next to the old man, standing tall. Tony then remembered where he had seen her before, and it finally clicked why the old man had shared all that useless information about his family, and those photo albums, way back when they first met. This one had to be the youngest child, Italia. While she didn't look like her father, she resembled the man far more than the twins. It was in the way she carried herself, and she seemed to have the same 'spirit' as her father.

"I want you to marry my Italia. Whether you two have a divorce after my death or not, it is out of my reach; I have no power from my grave. I want you to become a son of this family. In return, you will be a very rich man."

Tony snorted. Somehow, he didn't think it would be that easy. "I don't need your money, Voltolini." There was a very short moment of surprise in the old man's eyes, which told Tony that however deep Voltolini's background search on him had been, it hadn't been deep enough. "You're a cold-blooded murderer. Why would you want to risk everything? You know who, and what I am. You must know I'm not one to continue your family tradition."

"I want redemption. Every once in a while, even a man like myself finds that the life beyond this one is... uncertain."

Tony tried reading any lies from the awfully sincere look in the man's eyes, but came back with nothing. Though his gut wasn't ringing any alarm bells right now, he still wasn't going to trust a man like this. A man who had most likely even killed children, or at the very least some of his people had done it with his knowledge, if not his blessing. There was no redemption for people like that. Even the way he spoke of the redemption was tinged with arrogance. "Why?"

"Like I said, I am an old man. I do not have much time left. I wish to do one good deed before death comes to collect me, to pay my dept so that the afterworld may be kind to me."

Somehow, he didn't think that's how it worked, but Tony didn't voice his thoughts. "Why not just help the poor or something? Isn't that what you're good at?" he asked instead, remembering the squeaky clean image of the family, which would turn the Pope green with jealousy. The cleaner the image was, so much worse was the truth, usually. It didn't matter how white and pure looking it was, if inside it was full of dead men's bones and all manner of unspeakable evil.

"It does not satisfy me. I need something more. Something grand. If I die doing nothing, my legacy will be a name long forgotten, and a new generation that has no control and is are lacking in discipline. I need you, Anthony. It will not only make my blood strong once again, but it will also give all of us what we want. I am giving you this family on a silver plate."

Tony abandoned the comfortable chair, to put some distance between him and them, feeling slightly creeped out and like he was some breeding dog or horse. Very much like his own father would've been had the man not disowned him before he was old enough to be married off to some rich man's daughter. The situation couldn't have been more ironic. Despite being cut off from the family, he still was in that exact situation. Or the threat of it. "I'm flattered, but I'm not exactly planning to get married."

"It would be in name only. Of course there would be children, but that is all I am asking." Somehow, that didn't sound anywhere near as reassuring as the words probably tried to make it be.

Glancing at the outwardly emotionless woman who had barely even looked at him, other than maybe through him, Tony's mind automatically rated her looks from head to toe, causing him to slap his own head, shocking the other two into looks of bewilderment. Sure, the woman looked pretty and very Italian, so her name was appropriate, but after Wendy and Jeanne, added to his current life and situation, he really did not care to even think about settling down anytime soon. Especially not with her.

Hearing a sudden commotion coming from outside the room, loud enough to be heard through the thick walls and heavy door, Tony listened for a few seconds, and then he grinned widely. "I'll think about it," he lied easily.

Angelo studied him for a moment, then nodded his head. Italia took a CD from her father and she had barely given it to Tony, when the door slammed wide open. There stood Gibbs, with a furious look on his face and a weapon held against the head of Paolo as he snarled, "Let him go!"

Paolo whimpered when Angelo didn't so much as glance at his son, "Father..."

Tony slipped the CD inside his pocket as he spoke, interrupting Gibbs from any further brawling. "Boss. It's fine. I was already on my way out."

"DiNozzo, what..?"

"I'll explain later. You can let go of Paolo now. I think he's had enough excitement for a while." Tony moved closer, and he had to practically pry open the hand still holding Paolo. The hand was almost white from the raw force that had been used to hold the man up and close. Gibbs blinked few times, and although he hesitated, he finally lowered his gun. A real gun, not a toy. He was too baffled to really argue with Tony anyway.

"I will see you again, Anthony," Angelo said with a promise.

With barely an uneasy glance over his shoulder, Tony left the place with Gibbs hot on his heels. It was only then that Tony started wondering where Teddy was.

"You have some explaining to do, DiNozzo," Gibbs was growling at him almost as soon as when they were in his car and safely on their way back to D.C. Of course, he wasn't yelling because he was actually mad at Tony, but because he had been scared and worried. Anger was simply the emotion he was more comfortable with. "I call you, and you're not picking up your phone, and I knew something wasn't right. Then some kids tell me they saw men taking you."

Tony furrowed his brows. "How did you find me anyway? No, wait. Let me guess. Your gut."

Gibbs shrugged and kept his eyes on the road this time, much to Tony's relief. "That watch you're wearing."

Tony glanced at the expensive thing around his wrist. "The one Abby gave me last year. What about it?"

"There's a tracker in it."

"There's a... what!"

Gibbs looked unrepentant. "We figured it was needed after you kept getting in trouble in the most bizarre ways and often with no one around. It was actually already made during your first month." Gibbs conceded at the glare, "Fine, after the first week, it was more than an idea. We just had to find a reason to give it to you."

"The Harris' case... But Gibbs, this is low. Even for you."

"Sorry." Gibbs shrugged again and not feeling sorry at all.

Tony completely ignored the fact that Gibbs had just apologized. Sort of. Glancing at Gibbs and the stubborn set of his jaw, he snorted, "So that's why Abby made such a big deal of to 'never take it off, unless you're taking a shower '. I hope you realize I won't be wearing this again. I'll probably tie it around some bird flying to the south, just for fun."

"So..." Gibbs decided to change the subject, "What did the devil want?"

Tony looked thoughtful. "He wants to make a deal with me."

"And? Did you make one?"

"No."

Gibbs frowned. "But you're thinking about it. Why?"

"I'm not... Look, let's just say that the deal isn't any of the things you probably think it is. I promise to think very carefully and let you know if I decide to suddenly join the dark side."

Gibbs snorted dryly. Daring to finally look at the young man, he saw him staring at one of the tiniest guns he had ever seen. "What on earth is that..?"

"A souvenir."

Much later than he was comfortable with, it was such a relief to be back home, alone, and Tony sighed as he slumped on his couch, which, although not as nice as the leather chair, was all his. It had taken all of his energy to stop Gibbs from following him to his place, and then even more to stop Gibbs from dragging him to the older man's place. What was it with everyone always wanting to control him?

Removing his shirt, he was about to go and take one much-needed shower to wash away the now dried sweat from his morning run, when his hand stopped at the pocket of the pants, he forgot how filthy he felt. Instead of the bathroom, he took the CD and made his way to his laptop, feeling suddenly nervous. "It's now either yes or no. Either you are real or just the creation of my own imagination..." Much as their lives would be better off without her, somehow he worried more about his brains creating her. He felt guilty and conflicted, but that was nothing new.

The moment he opened the first file with nothing but a brief summary and a photo, he felt something like relief flooding through him when he saw Ziva's face, name and everything matching what he knew about her. Seeing her, he felt slightly less crazy, and he allowed himself to bask in that feeling. Tony wiped a hand over his face, feeling like a weight had been removed. "Well, look who's finally here..."

Chapter Text

Tony sighed heavily as he leaned against the wall. He hated this, all of it. Hated this moving coffin on the sea, which brought back other far too many unpleasant 'memories', and he hated this situation with Stan. Then the Petty Officer Wilkes had died despite him trying to change the outcome, since it had been almost like some higher power kept stopping him from doing anything, literally stopping his every move aimed toward trying to change the outcome. Afterward, for a while, Gibbs hadn't been fun to be around either.

He chose to ignore it when the door opened and Kate peered inside, obviously looking for something or someone. Unfortunately, that someone being, "Tony."

"What is it? Gibbs needs another bucket to dump his soil in?"

"That's not..." Kate made a face, unable to come up with anything smart to say to that, and moved to stand next to Tony where they stood staring at the wall in the small room. "I don't think you need to worry too much. Stan—"

"Stan was an amazing Agent and people miss him so much. I got it. In fact, Abby made it mighty obvious." It made him feel embarrassingly pitiful, but man, he had feelings too, and right now those feelings were hurt.

"You know why she reacted that way, don't you?"

"Because she can't wait to get rid of me."

"No! Tony... You know she likes you. Really, really likes you. You're like... Her favorite number one. Well, right after Gibbs, of course. It's just that... she's also jealous. Because while she puts you second after Gibbs... Gibbs..." Kate glanced around, as if afraid that their boss might be listening. Knowing him, that worry was all too valid.

"She shows it so well to me then; I feel all the love... What about Gibbs? You mean, he slaps me in the sea next?"

"No..! For Gibbs, you come first. Like... When you're not there, he can't focus. He just stares at your desk or door or whatever, until he sees you. I don't know why, but for some reason he seems to think you'll disappear or something."

Tony laughed. "Okay, what have you been smoking?" When Kate reached her hand to slap his head, Tony grabbed her wrist. "Don't. I don't hit women, and I don't wish to change that. So... Just, don't."

She swallowed and tried to ignore the sudden feeling of dread. When he let go, she rubbed her wrist. "I'm not on drugs or anything. Despite what you may think of my skills as a profiler, some things are way too obvious."

"He just feels bad because of something, Kate. That's all."

"Now who's the one not seeing things that are right under your nose... When you were taken—which, by the way, is something I still don't know what all that was about—you wouldn't believe what an actual tyrant the boss became, demanding that we track you down yesterday. He was like... I've never seen anyone go that crazy. I swear, he was this close to even attacking the Director when he dared to ask what was going on... He calmed down when Abby mentioned that watch of yours, until he found out where you were heading. After that, he might have as well taken out his gun and shot down anyone even thinking about getting in his way. He was like... Like..."

"Captain Ahab," Tony said softly, almost wonderingly. Kate was surprised she hadn't thought of that.

"Yes! That one! You were the whale he was after, and he was prepared to take everyone down with him. It was madness, I tell you. It's not normal, the way everyone either runs in circles around him, or they run with him."

Shaking his head, Tony smiled bitterly. "Trust me. It's nothing like that." He'd never been the whale, nor did he want to be that; he shouldn't.

"Tony..."

"Maybe it wouldn't be so bad after all if Stan did come back. Maybe it's time for me to move on again."

"Think again, DiNozzo."

Both Kate and Tony were startled by the sudden third voice. Neither of them had noticed Gibbs opening the door, and now the older man stood there with an unreadable expression on his face. Kate blushed with embarrassment, while Tony hit the back of his head wordlessly against the wall.

"Gibbs..."

"Not now, Kate. Go." Gibbs nodded toward the door and walked next to Tony, who refused to look at him.

Kate only took few steps before she stopped to watch with pure fascination Gibbs moving slowly closer, until his hand was finally resting on the young man's shoulder, where it then slowly moved up to the neck. It was all done in a shooting manner, like handling a wild horse ready to jump away and escape, all the while giving those looks that were screaming for both the need to get away and to stay right where he was. Few tense seconds later, Tony's eyes closed with a soft breath and his rigid form relaxed as he allowed Gibbs to pull his head to rest on his shoulder. Deeply moved, Kate suddenly felt like she was invading something very private.

"Why are you still standing there?" Gibbs said suddenly with a soft voice, but the look in his eyes was dangerous.

"Sorry..." Kate blushed and hurried outside, closing the door after her. For a while, she just stood there, replaying the moment in her head.

Back in the room, Gibbs had moved them to sit down. With Tony's head still on his shoulder, the older man felt the slight tremors running through the young man.

"What's going on? Don't try to tell me my bad mood is the reason. I was yelling at everyone."

"I got a phone call... Before we came here."

"And?"

"Voltolini," Tony sighed.

Gibbs felt fury grow inside him again, but he forced himself to calm down, even if his control was fragile at best. "What did the devil do this time?"

"He told me he'll be collecting the debt soon."

"Tony..."

"I know, okay! I know, I was an idiot. I didn't think it further. But I... I needed it. Needed what he was offering me." Selfishly as it was, he really had needed it.

Knowing that this was something that still hadn't been shared with him, Gibbs took this chance to ask, "What did he offer you?"

"Information. I needed to know that someone is real and not the result of my own imagination. For the sake of my sanity, I had to know, Gibbs." Tony looked up pleadingly, begging for understanding.

Gibbs realized that once again it had something to do with the 'dream'. What little he knew of it, he understood the need, kind of, and would have likely done the same, but it didn't stop him from cursing that dream in his mind. "I get it, Tony."

Tony relaxed and sat straighter, but didn't shake off Gibbs' hand that was still resting on his neck. "I told him that I'd think about it. I wasn't actually going to, honestly, neither did I promise anything for sure. I suppose that by accepting the information in his world meant I had accepted... I don't even know what to think of him, really; there's hardly any real information about him out there, and gut feelings can take you only so far."

"Listen, no matter what, I'm with you on this."

"Boss... I don't want..."

"Together, Tony. We'll deal with everything together. Got it?" Gibbs tried to not blink as he looked at Tony until his eyes almost watered, smiling when the man finally nodded, even if it was with some hesitation.

"I just don't want you to end up in trouble because of this. Because of me," Tony murmured silently and flinched, startled, when the hand at the back of his neck gently squeezed him.

"We'll deal with those things as they come. So, what was the deal? Your end of it."

To Gibbs' surprise, Tony looked royally ashamed and uncomfortable as he flushed deep red. "He wants me in the family."

"What?" Gibbs fumed. If the man thought he could convert his Agent as one of them...

"It's... It's not what you think, boss. He, ah, he wants me to marry..."

"He what?" Gibbs stared, thinking back to those odd looks he'd caught the old Italian giving Tony. Tony's eyes nearly bulged out as he caught up with what his boss was thinking.

"His daughter!" Tony screeched, horrified. "He wants me to marry his daughter!" He shuddered, muttering to himself, "Now I've got that in my head, thanks."

At first, Gibbs was relieved that it wasn't what he had thought it was, but then the look on his Agent's face and the more serious reality of the situation settled in.

"I would much rather shoot myself than have anything to do with those people," Tony said way too seriously. He didn't even blink at the gentle head-slap.

"Don't say that. If he calls again, you give the phone to me, and I'll say a few chosen words to him myself. In fact, I'm looking forward to it."

"You can't follow me around."

"Why not?"

"Boss..."

"Then you'll come to my place until this thing has been dealt with."

"No."

"I would feel much better if I didn't have to spend my nights in a car outside your apartment. I've been told that lack of sleep and not enough coffee to go with it can make me a real bastard."

Tony hesitated and weighed his options, but realized then that it was exactly what the old bastard would do, and so he nodded his agreement. Although, he was feeling irritated. "Fine."

There was fluttering in his chest, which Gibbs chose to ignore. "Get some rest. We have a long day tomorrow."

"Aye, aye mother—Captain," Tony added quickly, not seeing the grin as Gibbs walked to the door, where he stopped for a moment.

"And just so you know. You are the best Agent I have ever worked with, DiNozzo. So don't think I would just let you walk away from me. Not without a fight. Besides, who else would stand up to me? Stan was terrified of me. Actually, I think he still is."

Tony chuckled as he remembered the uncomfortable looks Stan had been throwing at Gibbs. And who could blame the man? "I got it, boss."

Case closed meant it was time to head back home. Tony stood on the deck with yet another moment and feelings of déjà vu. He was distantly aware of his partners walking away and that someone's eyes were on him.

"There's no way I'd be coming back, you know."

Tony turned around and looked at Stan Burley with narrowed eyes. "Kate."

"Actually, it was Gibbs— Wait!" Stan put his hand on Tony's shoulder just as he was about to storm off. "Wait. Let me finish talking first, okay? He didn't really get into anything personal, just... Well, let's just say that he made it awfully clear that if I wish to return, it would have to be some other team, since he could not risk losing the best Agent he's ever had."

Tony felt himself blush, as he felt both embarrassment and secret happiness. "Oh."

"Just between you and me..." Stan said, looking around them as if he was telling a big secret. "The wild dogs couldn't drag me back. I mean, don't get me wrong, I guess he's good at what he does, and it's good to be known as someone who has survived working with him for so many years, but my declining health couldn't handle it anymore. I'm serious. I wish I was joking."

Tony had a small, regretful smile on his lips. It was indeed a miracle he himself hadn't left sooner. If not willingly, then because of his ailing health caused by Gibbs as his boss.

"And he actually calls you by your name; not just DiNozzo, but your first name. It took two years before the old bastard even looked me in the eye, or at me, when speaking to me. Who does that? And three years before he called me by name. Four to get it right. I'm still wondering if he called me Steve on purpose..." Stan looked at the young man with a thoughtful look on his face. "Don't get me wrong, but I can't help but wonder what it is about you. He must really like you."

Tony rubbed the back of his head. "Yeah, sure..."

"But anyway, it looks like it's time for you to get going. I hope we meet again." Stan held out his hand, which Tony took with a small smile.

"We just might."

Inside the plane, just before it took off, Gibbs looked at Tony, wondering if the man was mad at him for talking to Ste—Stan. He still had trouble remembering the name. The man could've been called Smith, for all the difference it made...

Seeing the question in the sharp blue eyes, Tony grinned. "It's private," he said, just because he could. And he was still feeling slightly miffed that Gibbs spoke to Stan. Not much, but still.

Rolling his eyes, Gibbs looked away and started explaining to Kate how the plane would take off. It was still funny, and Tony couldn't help feeling cheeky again as the plane took off, and Gibbs yelled at him to see how Kate was doing.

"She's smiling, boss!" he responded over the loud noise.

"Tony! I'm so glad you're back!" Abby jumped on Tony almost as soon as he got out of the elevator with the other two, early in the morning. He looked around, confused, but Kate only shrugged and Gibbs had that small amused smile on his lips.

"Of course I'm back. Why wouldn't I be?" He pulled free and the woman squirmed under his stare.

"I... I got told off by... Um... By Ducky."

"Ducky? Why on earth would..?"

"And Gibbs, although I think he didn't really mean to. And Kate canceled our girls' night out..."

Kate was confused. "I told you I was too tired."

"And then Stan called me."

"Stan?" Tony was completely at a loss where this conversation was going, if it was.

Abby squirmed even more. Now under the stare of all three. "I may have started some rumors in here and... I swear I didn't mean to! I do miss Stan, I really do, but I don't want you to leave either, Tony. I swear!"

Tony sat down behind his desk. "Abby... What on earth are you talking about?"

Chewing her bottom lip and moving around on her dangerously high 'break a leg' boots, she finally stopped to look at them again. Taking a deep breath, she started speaking. Fast. So it took a moment for them to understand what she was talking about. "It seems that some people completely misunderstood some of the things I said, panicked, and then went to talk to other people, like the Director. One or two of them went even further and higher than that, and... It all went back to Stan, who's been replying all morning to phone calls and questions about if he's going to return."

The agents stared at her, and then Tony started laughing just as Tom Morrow stormed out of his office, red-faced with anger. "Agent Gibbs! In my office! Now!"

Gibbs sighed, but obeyed, with a smirk on his face. Kate had a confused smile of her own, and Abby... Abby didn't know how to be. She wanted to smile too, but she wasn't sure if she was allowed to.

"It's... It's fine, Abby... Get to work now. I'll come by later." Tony chuckled and Abby finally allowed a small grin on her face before she ran off. She was relieved that Tony wasn't upset, but worried that he would be.

Kate sat down, still smiling. "Does this finally prove to you that your place here is pretty secure?"

"Oh, leave it, Kate."

"Why? I don't know any other people who would get the whole place in chaos at the mere thought that you might be leaving."

Tony rolled his eyes, but he did feel a small happy feeling somewhere deep inside him, although he didn't trust himself with it. "They're just afraid that with me gone, they'll have to deal with Gibbs themselves. In two years they've become spoiled, when they've been able to come to me instead of the big scary boss."

"Whatever you say..." Kate took out an apple. She saw the way he kept looking at it. "When was the last time you ate?" she asked suddenly, startling the man.

"At home," he mumbled, but she noticed he had told where, not when. She didn't know that Gibbs had dragged Tony to his place straight from work, and neither had yet found the time to eat.

"You want one?" She took out a second apple.

Tony sighed, but before he could say no, Kate had already thrown the apple to him, which he caught out of reflex. "Thanks."

Eating in silence, they kept glancing toward each other when the other wasn't looking.

Tony wondered about this 'nice Kate', which he wasn't used to. Not to say she had been nasty and mean all the time in the 'dream', but most of the time they'd been bickering and teasing each other. Even most of the nice moments happened near 'the end'.

Kate wondered about a whole list of things, and they all had something to do with DiNozzo. She was slowly starting to feel like she was a part of the team, but there still seemed to be some invisible wall there that only let her as close to him as he allowed. The profiler in her was confused when she wasn't able to read him so that she could know how to break that wall. She saw him taking out his music player and then soon after he was humming along with it softly as he waited for his computer to start. She realized for the first time that she didn't even know such things as what were his favorite movies and music. That had to change.

They both looked up when the elevator doors opened and two men stepped outside.

"Fornell... And FBI. Well, I did think what a good morning I was having," Tony muttered, putting away his music.

Fornell glanced around, and not seeing Gibbs anywhere, he went straight to Tony. "DiNutso. We need to talk."

Eating his apple calmly and with no hurry, Tony leaned back in his chair. "So. Talk."

"It's... Can we go somewhere a bit more... private?"

"I don't know. Depends on what this is all about. Give me a hint?"

Fornell held up his hand when the other Agent who was with him opened his mouth. "Voltolini."

The look on Tony's face remained neutral, and he finished eating the apple before saying anything. Fornell looked awfully impatient, but then he was being surprisingly patient as he waited. "I'm sure there's a free room we can use. Kate, keep things rolling while I'm gone." Tony stood up, and with the men following him, he disappeared toward the stairs. While he was at it, might as well make the FBI work for it...

By the time Gibbs returned, he looked annoyed. It had taken much longer than he thought it would before Tom finally believed he wasn't about to chase away yet another Agent. An Agent who the Director wanted to keep with them. Much to Gibbs' fury, the list of people and alphabets who were after his Agent, kept only growing. The surprise name on the list, however, was one he had never even imagined seeing there. Fornell. The two of them were going to be having a very long talk about that later... "Where's DiNozzo?" he demanded and something about the way Kate looked at him, or rather didn't, brought a strange feeling in his gut. "What is it, Kate?"

"The FBI... Fornell came here. They had something they needed to talk about, so they went to find a room that's free."

The feeling in his gut didn't ease. "Any idea what it was about?"

"I'm not sure, but when Tony asked for a hint, Fornell said 'Voltolini', and then they left. About ten minutes ago and... Gibbs?" Kate stared as Gibbs stormed away before she had even finished speaking. With a sigh, she glanced at the empty desks, wondering just how long it would take before she was allowed to know the team's secrets.

Chapter Text

Taking the last few steps, Tony stopped and looked at the two older agents, who were both gasping for breath. He didn't bother hiding the Cheshire smirk spreading on his face. Oh, he had made the FBI work for this. Had made them work hard indeed... His habit of almost always using the stairs instead of the elevator had really paid off. The same couldn't be said about the other two. "Come on. I don't have a whole day."

"You..." the other Agent started as they made it to him, but Fornell silenced the man with a shake of his head.

Leaning against the wall, Fornell took out a handkerchief to wipe off sweat from his face. "DiNutso... Enough. As you said, we don't have a whole day."

Tony shrugged and led them into an empty conference room. Once the men were sitting down, he made himself busy by doing whatever odd little tasks he could think of. "Anyone want some coffee?"

"DiNutso..."

"Oh. Wait for it... Wait for it..." The small smirk on Tony's face grew wider and wider as he looked at the clock on the wall. Then they heard the sound of someone running, and suddenly the door flew open.

"Fornell!" Gibbs growled, looking like someone who had just been running all over the Navy Yard, trying to locate them, and had deemed the elevator too slow.

"What? I didn't call him," Tony said when Fornell shot an accusing glare toward him. "You were with me the whole time, and not once did I speak to anyone about this. No sneaky glances either."

Fornell opened his mouth a few times, but in the end he just shook his head as he gave up. "You take one, you get them both," he answered his companion's unspoken question. "I did try, but as you can see, they both seem to be developing some sort of radar that goes off as soon as the other is in trouble or gone from the safe zone, whatever that may be."

Gibbs glared and sat down with Tony. "What is this? You take my Agent somewhere like this again, and I'll—"

"Sooo, let's get to the point," Tony interrupted swiftly, stopping his boss from saying something any normal person would later regret. Of course, Gibbs wasn't a normal person, so this was more for the sake of everyone else.

Fornel sighed heavily. How he hated dealing with these two. Hard to tell which one was the most annoying, although right now DiNutso was starting to win the golden medal. At least with Gibbs, he usually knew what to expect. "Voltolini," he finally said, and while Tony kept his cool, the look on Gibbs' face was even stormier. While he spoke his next words, Fornell wisely didn't look at Gibbs. "It would seem that you've gotten quite... close to him."

Gibbs looked predatory, while Tony snorted, "Close? Although he might like to say otherwise, I assure you, unquestionably, that we are anything but close."

"So you do know him."

Tony rolled his eyes. "If you didn't know that already, you wouldn't have come to me in the first place."

Fornell frowned, feeling annoyed when he saw the small and annoyingly pleased half-smile and raised eyebrow on Gibbs' face. Tony, on the other hand, was a firmly closed book, no way to read what he was really thinking or even what his current mood was. With these two men in question, one was bad enough, but two of them together was asking for trouble, which was why he had tried to avoid this. "Our inside man told us that you are marrying his daughter. Is it true?" He wasn't one to judge poor life decisions, shared ex-wives and all, but come on; this was no Romeo and Juliet. This was real life, and if Gibbs wasn't going to beat some sense into the young Agent's head, it might as well be him then, unwelcome as it no doubt was.

Tony shuddered. "So the rumor is already spreading. You know what, boss? I bet the next time I go to sleep, I wake up at my wedding. Wouldn't surprise me if there was a gun involved, to get me to agree. Talk about a real shotgun wedding."

"Not gonna happen, DiNozzo. Not on my watch."

"You keep saying that, but we have no idea what the devil is up to next."

"Actually," Fornell interrupted with a loud voice, to get back their attention. "We want you to do it."

"Excuse me?" Tony stared.

"Over my dead body, Tobias!" Gibbs growled out his disapproval, and he seemed to almost grow in their eyes, reminding either one big grizzly papa bear, or a rabid dog. Hard to tell which one would be worst, since most people were only familiar with Gibbs the rabid dog.

Fornell ignored Gibbs. "DiNutso... The truth is that we've been trying to get this man and his people for several decades. Whenever we think we are close, something ruins it. Either our undercover agents go missing or we find their body parts all over the country. What's worse is that the family is protected by who knows who, likely even by some of our own people. Many higher-ups would not take it kindly if they found out what we the smaller fry have been up to... The family or one of their allies can easily buy off the whole country if they so wish to do. You've been openly invited to join the family, knowing who and what you are. There's no better chance than this. Something like this doesn't happen, and yet it did." DiNutso was a walking contradiction.

"Don't you have your own people who could do the dirty work for you, or am I so expendable that my body parts and life don't matter?" Tony asked. Seeing the uncertain looks shared between the two FBI agents, he chuckled. "Let me guess. You've lost your contact with him. And let me guess again... He has this hideous looking blond haircut, tries to act like a gangster, but he couldn't act to save his life, and he calls himself Teddy. Although, I assume that's just his cute and cuddly undercover nickname."

"You've met him?" Fornell looked surprised and slightly hopeful. Tony shared a look with Gibbs. Oh yeah, that was their guy. So the first guess—FBI—had been correct.

"It's been a while since we last saw him, but yes. And I must say... This Agent of yours is a loose cannon. He's one of them."

"What's that supposed to mean!" the other FBI Agent finally exploded.

"Fred. Calm down," Fornell hissed, and the bigger man took few uneven, angry breaths before he went back to simply trying to kill the NCIS agents with his eyes. "DiNutso... Please explain."

"Where should I begin? From the time when he tried to kill us, and murdered all those people? Last I heard, at least one child died because of his actions. Or should I talk about the time he kidnapped us and took us straight into the slaughterhouse?" Staring at them for some time, studying them, Tony snorted. "Don't you even wonder why, after all this time, he hasn't been able to get even one evidence against that family? I was there, you know. Gibbs was there. Even without digging out any dirt, what we saw was bad enough to give at least something to work on. Did it never seem strange to you how someone who is so bad at undercover work, hasn't gotten himself killed so far? Unless he wasn't acting. When exactly did you lose contact with him anyway?"

"Last year," Fornell muttered with a deep frown.

"Ah. Who knows, perhaps Voltolini finally had enough of his games. I mean, I might have accidentally slipped that the guy is FBI, but since he's been gone only since last year, I'd say I had nothing to do with it. Either Voltolini had enough of him or your man decided that the FBI was no longer worth his time."

"You son of..!" Fred jumped up, and had it not been Fornell and Gibbs holding him back, he would've attacked the young man. "Terence is not a criminal!" Fred raged, while Tony remained calm.

"So that's his name. Then ask yourself this: why a guy who is not a criminal has no trouble watching those people murdering people in cold blood, doesn't bother to at the very least try to save the innocent, and instead seems far too comfortable in his shoes as the right-hand mind for Voltolini, and has no trouble planting a bomb where innocent people and even children are? Before you go telling me about how that can't be the truth, I was there. We were there." There was no way he'd ever forgive Teddy for what he did and whoever had allowed it to go on for so long. "I knew the FBI would have only covered up for him, to save the face or whatever. Wouldn't be the first time. It was the only way to make sure a criminal like him was punished and hopefully off the streets."

Fornell paled. "A bomb?"

"I'm sure you've heard of it. It was on the news for a while. You know, the one in Baltimore where half of this building was destroyed. Including my entire apartment."

Fornell looked at Gibbs, who nodded his affirmation. They had all seen the news; the one behind the bomb had never been found. In fact, what hadn't made the news was that the only leads went all back to the FBI.

"But to get back to our original discussion... I have a feeling that if I were to agree, my life would never be the same. There is no way it would even work; I know that much. My life is not for sale, never again. So you better find another way to deal with this. But if there is some other way I can help you, then let me know; I'd be glad to. Now, if you'll excuse me... Voltolini is not the only bad guy out there." Tony left the room without a second glance.

"Jethro," Fornell said after they let go of Fred, who pretty much fell in his chair. Fornell and Gibbs walked to the other side of the room and lowered their voices.

"He going to be a problem to my Agent?" Gibbs demanded with underlying threat to his voice.

Fornell glared, feeling annoyed. "He won't. I'll personally make sure of it."

"If you don't, I will. He so much as looks at him the wrong way..." Gibbs glared back and between the two of them, there was no doubt who was the winner of that contest.

Shaking his head, after looking away, Fornell rubbed his forehead between his eyebrows. Why was it that almost each and every time he was around these two, it gave him a headache? "Look, Jethro... Terence was his long-time partner, but I'll make sure he won't do anything. I need you to understand that I can't just go back with this. And with a claim that one of our own has turned bad... You know as well as I do how those high on the food chain don't like any dirt being made known."

"Not a claim, Tobias."

"I know, I know... But you can't expect everyone else to just believe his word on this."

"Our word. I was there too."

Tired of hitting his head against the metaphorical wall, Fornell agreed, "Yes... But I at least need his written statement, for now. I'm pretty sure I will come back. You know how it goes; the boss barks and I must run back and play a good game or someone else will come, and you know that others won't be this understanding."

They looked at the door when Tony returned with a bunch of files in his hands. Handing them over to Fornell, Tony glanced at his boss with an apologetic expression.

"What are these?" Fornell started reading through the first paper, looking surprised the more he was reading.

"That's your copy of everything I know and have found out so far." Tony barely refrained himself from stressing the word 'copy '.

"When did you have time to do this..?"

"Tony likes to be prepared," Gibbs answered for Tony, sounding awfully smug and proud. Tony beamed at him, while Fornell looked almost pained at the combined power that was set running against or over anyone daring to go against them.

"Tony?" The last time he had seen these two men together, there had been a bad atmosphere between them... Almost hostile even. Fornell narrowed his eyes as he looked, really looked, at them. He wasn't sure what was going on, but he was surely going to bring this up next time they met outside the work. Perhaps while drinking something stronger than coffee...

"I'm sure mine's too somewhere. In fact, Tony might know where."

"It's with mine. I hope you don't mind, boss, but I had a copy ready for situations like this." Tony worried. Both of them ignored Fornell's, 'dying to know your deepest secrets,' looks. "Oh, and, boss, we just got a call. Dead Marine. Sorry, Toby. Work calls."

Gibbs nodded, and the two left the room without giving the FBI agents any time for protests. Fred was still too full of anger, grief and denial anyway to see anything past those feelings, to do anything, and Fornell stood there staring after the closed door.

"So, where's the crime scene?" Gibbs asked when they were standing in the elevator.

Tony didn't look at his boss. "I, ah... I made that up."

Gibbs slapped the back of Tony's head, only to turn it into a pat on the head, making Tony squirm uncertainly. It was much later when they finally had another new case to work with, and by then they were sick of working on cold cases.

"No. Don't do anything... Just secure the scene and wait for us, Agent McGee," Tony said patiently. He was feeling nostalgic and while old feelings of deeply rooted hurt were still there, he couldn't wait to see the probie, for old times' sake, if nothing else. To see the man who was so different from the one McGee turned out to be... While already at the point where he was so full of his education, he was at the same time so green and still unsure in certain situations. Tony actually missed the Elf Lord.

After ending the call, Tony just sat there for a moment, reminiscing, feeling something akin to heartache. While still deep in his thoughts, he stared at the coffee on boss' desk, seeing it fall down in his flashback of another time, another life... Remembering Kate's super nice behavior, to the point it almost creeped him out, Tony decided to pay it back. Standing up, he walked to the coffee and moved it for a bit. Looking up, he noticed Gibbs staring at him. Only a moment later, Kate swung her backpack right over the place where the coffee had just been. The look on Gibbs' face was almost comical, and not one you'd expect to see on his face. Not in a million years.

"Tony..." Gibbs started after he got over the worst of the shock, but Tony ignored it with a small, self-satisfied smile on his face.

"Are we going now?"

Shaking his head, Gibbs followed his agents in the elevator. He kept glancing at the coffee in his hand and then at Tony, who seemingly didn't even notice him staring. Gibbs knew better, of course.

"It was nothing, boss," Tony finally said, proving that indeed he had noticed the looks. "Don't worry about it too much. Just think of it as a gut feeling if it helps."

"I don't know, DiNozzo. I'm starting to think I might have to start keeping an eye on you and your... actions."

Tony smirked. It was amusing, seeing the mighty Gibbs so genuinely baffled. "Why? It can all be nothing. Like I said, could be just a gut feeling, or I got lucky."

"What are you two talking about?" Kate said from behind them.

"Boss is curious how I saved his coffee."

"Saved his coffee?"

"Yeah. Coffee. By the way, a friendly advice: don't ever knock over boss' coffee. Especially his morning coffee. Rule 23. Remember that one. It can save your life one day."

"What's rule 23?"

"Never mess with a Marine's coffee if you want to live," Gibbs answered in a miffed tone and took a sip of his coffee. For some reason, his mood was getting worse now, even with the coffee.

"You heard the boss, Kate."

The little trip to the Norfolk was spent in silence and while usually in these days Tony had to force himself to not speak about all the movies and whatever else he could think of, for a change he wasn't even in the mood for it. He was anxious and still a little unsure how he was going to deal with seeing the 'green McGee' who was still like a puppy, so eager to please. The one who had just met him and hadn't yet found a 'reason' to feel superior. It turned out he didn't even have to worry about it. The moment Tony saw McGee, he felt himself going into automatic setting, caused by his 'last memories' of the younger man. Perhaps it was for the best...

Barely even focusing on what Ducky and Gerald were doing with the dead body, Tony saw it all as if he were standing outside, watching it all play out like a movie scene; familiar and disconnected from him. He really didn't care about revisiting these memories. Not that he couldn't handle remembering and seeing them now, he just... didn't care. Or so he thought. It was only after McGee spoke that Tony realized he had once again taken the man away from the crime scene, just like he did 'last time'. A sarcastic part in him wondered whether he should have just left him there to deal with it, but the other part in him gave himself a mighty head-slap. This probie wasn't the spoiled version, yet.

"I don't know how you can deal with that kind of thing, Agent DiNozzo... The way it looks... That smell..." McGee removed his mask, still looking like he was going to puke.

To play it safe, Tony took a step back, eyeing the greenish tint on the pale skin. "He, not it. He."

McGee looked at him with genuine interest and shrugged. "Right..."

"You'll get used to it, McGee."

"I doubt that..."

"Well... Don't worry about it too much, Agent." Tony smiled tightly. Putting on a pair of sunglasses, he strolled back to the crime scene.

As the crime investigation moved forward, Tony played his part like the pro he was; unless you knew him, you could in no way tell that he was being too professional, too much like someone who was reading a script. Someone who could read it well, but was still just acting his part. It was only after Gibbs had given him several concerned glances that Tony put much more effort into his act, and the old Marine relaxed and focused on solving the crime. One thing was sure... Gibbs with his morning coffee was much nicer than the Gibbs who didn't have his morning coffee. And coffee or not, he really had no patience with McGee and his geek talk. Some things never changed.

And some did. At one point, Tony had almost been expecting Kate to start her rant about how much more qualified she was for the job. So seeing just a flash of anger in her eyes, but not a word of complaint and simply doing what she was told to do, it had left Tony speechless. He repaid her good behavior by not mentioning anything about waxing this time.

"Agent Dinozzo..?" McGee hesitated. The two of them were now standing in front of the house, and Tony stood there, frozen to the spot and holding a rock in his hand.

"You ever feel like repeating yourself gets really old, McGee?"

"Um... I don't know... Maybe..?"

Dropping the rock, Tony scowled. He hadn't even been thinking about it as he picked it up, just like he did last time; so ingrained it was. "That's how I feel right now. Almost feels like I'm in the movie Groundhog Day. I think it's time to rewrite that scene."

"Agent DiNozzo..? Uh... Sir..? What are you..?" McGee's eyes went wide as Tony ignored him and simply kicked the door wide open.

"See? It was already open."

McGee's look was a mix of awe and horror. "Isn't that..?"

"Let's not make it a habit, though. Are you coming?" Tony walked inside, and after glancing around himself, McGee followed quickly.

It was only after the case was closed and McGee entered the bullpen with his report, full of geek-speech, that Tony finally knew how he was going to treat their future probie this time. When he walked him to the elevator, Tony decided to use at least this one chance to leave the man speechless, and so he spoke before McGee ever got the chance to drop the proverbial bomb. "So... You got a tattoo on your ass, huh. Way to go, Agent. I bet Abby will be proud. I hope it's a good one, so you won't end up regretting it someday." Tony smirked and walked away, leaving McGee staring after him with an open mouth.

"How did he know..?"

Chapter Text

It was one of those days when he wasn't feeling too companionable. Too much going on in his head meant that anything on the outside wasn't welcome either, if he could help it. He rarely had such moments where he could actually get away, or hide, long enough for it to be of any use. It probably made him rude at times, but when it became too exhausting and certain people overbearing with their presence, he needed a time away to be miserable alone. Which was why he now sat in a dark corner of the bar, his chosen spot, just for those moments when he wished to be alone. The guy behind the small table on the other dark side of the room had given him a low empathetic grunt for a hello when he'd walked past him earlier. Tony wondered whether the man thought him to be a fellow drunkard, drinking away his sorrows; seeing that they both happened to be regulars.

He probably would be, Tony mused to himself. If he hadn't grown up with a couple of drunkards, he'd probably be plastered to the bar stool, close as possible for the refill, and then drink until there'd be nothing left of his liver. But as it was, he neither had the luxury nor did he wish to give his father the satisfaction of following in his footsteps.

Looking up from his glass, Tony could see Isaac looking at him worriedly every once in a while. He could tell how much his friend wanted to come and talk to him, but one of the reasons he chose this time of the night to be there, was because he knew how busy the man would be with the other customers, barely even having time to sit down. Taking a sip of some fancy drink, Tony dropped his gaze down to the picture on the table. "Well, Ziva... Let's hope you'll make your move soon rather than later. Can't get too comfortable in this life before you do. Can't stop looking over my shoulder." Taking out a ballpoint pen, he started drawing on the picture; a moustache, a beard, an eye patch and two angry eyebrows. He was starting on the devil's horns, when a voice startled him, badly.

"Well, that's not nice."

Having pulled out his gun out of reflex, Tony sighed in relief when he saw no threat. For obvious reasons, he almost never went anywhere without his weapon and at least a couple of knives. He indeed couldn't stop looking over his shoulder, and not just because of Ziva. "You want to give me a heart attack?" he muttered as he put the gun away. "I'm pretty sure that wouldn't be good for your business."

Looking the very picture of composed, Isaac chuckled and sat down next to him. Nodding at the picture, he asked, "Who is she? Ex-girlfriend?" There was a trace of humor in his voice.

Anything but that... Maybe once upon a time he could have been foolish enough to fall for her tricks. Not likely, but maybe... Tony was all too aware of how he was deep down just a man in need of some loving every once in a while, to keep his head in a working condition. Although it left him feeling even emptier and with women came different kind of dangers. He couldn't risk his heart anymore, so he didn't. Time would tell whether he'd been entirely ruined for lasting relationships.

Instead of answering the question, he asked, "Aren't you busy with work?"

"The others will survive without me for a while. Did you really think you can avoid me by coming here during the busiest hour? You've developed a pattern. Don't think I haven't noticed it. Whenever you need something stronger to drink, but don't want company, that's when you show up. Isn't it a little too careless for someone like you?"

Shaking his head in amusement, Tony tapped at the picture with the pen. "She's your worst nightmare if you ever become intimate with her, or even if you allow her to think there is something there. Actually, even if you make sure she knows you're not interested. Now that I think about it... There are no good reasons to get close to her. You ever see her, run and never look back."

"Ah. The infamous Ziva David."

"The one and only." Taking another sip of his drink, Tony grimaced. "And pattern, you say..? I suppose I have been a little too careless lately. Can't help it though, with all the excitement going on in my life in these days. But thanks for reminding me. Can't be too careful. Especially after the last little... mishap."

"You know I am always ready to listen if you feel the need to talk to someone," Isaac reminded, and glanced up when one of the customers started causing trouble.

"I know you are. Whether I am willing to talk or not. I've said it many times before, and I'm saying it again, Isaac: you have a dangerous skill. I should be really worried whenever I spend my time around you. Especially if I can't remember anything the next day." Tony chuckled and finished his drink. "But I really need to get going now before my boss calls the FBI—or even worse, Abby—to track me down."

"And yet you trust me enough to keep coming and drinking what I give you." The look on Isaac's face turned serious. He didn't have the best image of the former Marine, all thanks to the many things he had heard from Tony when he was drunk and out of his mind. Didn't happen often, but when it did, it wasn't good. "Why would he track you down? You're still working at this hour, again?"

Trust... Tony wondered about that, he who had possibly some of the worst trust issues out there. "Of course not. Not with the alcohol I've been drinking. He... I've been staying at his place for a while now." The older man stared at him as if he had lost his mind. Tony rolled his eyes. "I know. I know... There's just this stuff that's been happening lately. And before you ask, it really is better if you know nothing about it. Especially since even the FBI hounds are sniffing at my rear end. They would love nothing more than to use me for their little games, and if it comes down to it, sacrifice me for the better good. Been there, done it; too many times and it never ends well."

"I hope you won't let it happen."

"Nah. I'm done being used." Standing up, Tony staggered for a moment. Had he really had that much to drink? He couldn't remember, which was probably the answer. He'd refrained from drinking enough to start slurring, but there was a certain kind of numbness settling all over him. It was quite pleasant actually, for now.

"Whoa, kid, I hope you didn't come here with a car. I'm not going to let you drive."

"I'm good. And no, I didn't. You don't have to worry about me. I'll see you later." On his way out, Tony put an end to the fight between the troublemaker and another man before it could turn into a bloody fist fight. Thankfully, it wasn't anything too serious.

Shaking his head, Isaac stood up. He wished there was something he could do to help. Although Tony hadn't really told him anything, he could tell his young friend was under a great deal of stress. Maybe too much stress. While Tony seemed to be doing better with all that was happening inside his head, at the same time it also seemed like each time that he saw him, Tony looked just a little more worn out. Well, to say that he looked like it, would not be telling the truth, but Isaac was somehow still able to notice it. It was just one of those things you knew without having to see it when you've become close to someone.

As he was returning to his work, Isaac stopped suddenly. Although he had barely seen the picture, he was pretty sure he wasn't seeing things. There, in the corner and talking to someone, sat a young woman. With sharp and calculating eyes, she noticed she was being looked at, and Isaac moved his eyes away and acted as if he hadn't just stared at her.

"I'm taking a break," he announced to his closest employee, bringing a look of pure desperation on her face. It was one of the busiest night of the year, and they needed every hand available.

Disappearing into one of their backrooms, Isaac made sure the door was locked before he slipped inside another room. In there he had small TV screens, showing the security feed in the bar and outside it. Before he got to know Tony, he only had two cameras and one screen for them both. One in the bar and one just outside, close to the door. After being told all manner of tales from the crimes the young man had seen and heard of during his career, he soon found himself getting a few more, along with some other security measures he'd never even thought about before. Turned out it had now finally paid off.

While he made a copy of what he had so far, Isaac observed the young woman, wondering about all the carefully chosen stories he'd been told and then all the things he hadn't been told, imagining the worst possible things. It was probably why he froze, and his imagination went wild and scary, when someone knocked at the door.

"Boss? You in there? We're out of lemon." It was the voice of one of the youngest kids working for him.

Isaac relaxed, feeling stupid for letting his imagination take over his mind like that. "Tell Christine to take the car and get some from my mother. She always has extra supplies ready for me."

"Got it, boss."

Sitting in the silence for a time that felt like forever, Isaac finally saw both the woman and her companion leave the bar. Reaching over, he finished copying the security feeds with her and the man on it. He wondered just how had he gotten so lucky for that woman to step into his bar of all bars in D.C. "Well, son. Seems I may be able to finally have a proper reason to pay you a little visit. Maybe I'll also get a chance to take a look at this boss of yours..."

By the time Isaac had finished making the copy, Tony had barely been home—Gibbs' home—for forty minutes since leaving the bar and, as usual, he had managed to avoid the old man. There wasn't exactly any bad blood between them, compared to how it was before, and while things had been relatively okay, and at work they could even joke with each other on a very good day, but at home things just became too awkward and complicated.

Although they had been living under the same roof for some time now, they rarely saw each other in the house. Gibbs always disappeared in the basement, and Tony mostly came to this place to sleep and use the shower. It was funny almost, since it had been Gibbs who hadn't really given any options and who wanted to have his Agent where he could make sure the Voltolini people or FBI couldn't just kidnap him. Fornell had promised to not let it happen on their end, but while they did trust his word, they couldn't be so sure about that Fred guy. Or the rest of the FBI for that matter. Tony knew he was partly at fault, but he couldn't help but wonder why after all of those attempts to get him to come in the house, Gibbs suddenly shut him out and instead disappeared into the basement. Was the man being simply cautious and trying to give him the space he thought he needed, or was it something else?

When his phone started ringing, Tony glanced at the name on the screen and was surprised to see that it was Isaac. Remembering the fight at the bar, he felt sudden fear. Maybe something went wrong after he left. Why did he leave so soon? He should've stayed there or done something more or... done something. He answered the phone, making sure to keep his voice calm and steady. "Isaac?" His tongue felt swollen in his mouth, but he didn't feel that drunk, which was good in case he had to go on a rescue mission and, or beat up some drunkard for killing Isaac. Then again, it was Isaac calling him, so he allowed himself to feel reassured by that.

"Hey, kid! Hope I didn't wake you..."

Glancing at the time, Tony was surprised to see just how late it was. Was it really already way past the midnight? Where had the time gone..? "Nah. I was too busy thinking." He rubbed his suddenly aching head at the reminder. Thinking was painful.

"Listen, this won't take long. I have something for you. I need to know where to bring it, and then I'll be back to work for a few more hours."

Tony sat up on bed, where he had been trying to get some sleep. Usually, whatever Isaac had for him was worth it. "What is it?"

"It has something to do with the... Er... Moustache woman."

It took a second and a half for Tony to realize what the man was talking about. Now fully alert, he stood up and tried pulling on his jeans with the hand not holding the phone. "What are you talking about? Isaac, are you all right?"

"Relax, son. Everything's fine. I just have a little something for you. Figured you might want it. I know I'm in the right area, but I don't know the exact address."

"All right... I'll give you the address and wait outside."

Ending the call after giving the address, Tony hurried downstairs. While still pushing his other foot in the other pant leg, halfway down the stairs, he tripped and stumbled the rest of the way. As he landed on the floor, he heard something crash in the basement and a moment later, he heard Gibbs practically fly upstairs.

"Tony!" Gibbs kneeled down next to the young man who had lost his jeans.

"I'm fine!" Tony flushed red. Ignoring the helping hands, he made his way back to his jeans. As he put them on, he winced slightly at the nasty pain in his hip. He'd have one big bruise there by tomorrow. Lucky him; this time he hadn't managed to crack his skull open. Thank God for small mercies.

"You need help?" Gibbs looked so unsure of himself that it was just so... So not Gibbs. If Abby saw the man now, she'd be freaking out. After all, Gibbs always knew what to do.

"I'm fine, boss. You and I, however, need to have a little talk later... But first, I have a friend to meet."

"At 2 AM?" Gibbs looked suspicious, and then there was that strange, sharp stab of jealousy. Sure, maybe he had been kind of avoiding DiNozzo at home, but he felt oddly irritated at the thought of having to share him and their rare time together outside the work. He didn't know why he felt this way and why he again felt the sudden need to escape to the basement. Maybe it had something to do with the feelings of uncertainty after dreaming about his girls lately. Dreaming of Kelly. Gibbs was confused, and right now it was the only feeling he was willing to acknowledge.

Tony snorted. "What, are you my mother now? Forget I said that. I'm still a bit drunk, and I'm really tired. Tired. Really tired." He frowned and shook his head to clear the haze.

"Drunk?" Gibbs frowned, wondering when he had managed to do that. Then again, he had learned early on that DiNozzo could sneak out and back in the house without him noticing it, which made the reason Tony was staying at his place useless.

"Yep. Drunk. So drunk. I mean, not that drunk. It's not a school night and last time I checked, I'm old enough. Go get some rest. I'm fine. I'll meet my friend and then go back to sleep. Promise."

Instead of going anywhere, Gibbs followed the young man like a shadow, suddenly worrying that this so-called friend was something else. For all he knew, his Agent could have taken matters into his own hands. Voltolini. Gibbs would never forget the look on the man's face whenever he looked at Tony... Like someone with plenty of money and power, someone who was used to getting what he wanted, and for some reason the man seemed to be fixated on his Agent. His— Never mind. He wasn't going there... He still remembered the last time he had used 'the word' in Tony's presence. Called him son of all things without thinking, and it hadn't ended too well. He hadn't really meant anything too serious by it back then. To use it now would be... It would.

"I didn't ask you to join me, boss," Tony sighed, when Gibbs stepped quickly outside before he could shut the door to his face. Tony knew from that stubborn set of his jaw that his boss wasn't going anywhere. Whatever the old man would have said to him was yesterday's trouble, since that's when Isaac's car stopped in front of the house.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes as he studied the man who opened the car door. He had a dark complexion and judging by the wrinkles on his face, he spent most of his time laughing or smiling, the complete opposite of Gibbs. Something about the man just ticked Gibbs off the wrong way.

"Son. You look even worse than before," Isaac stated as soon as he stepped out. "After this, you better get some real sleep."

It was obvious to Gibbs that Tony didn't even react when he had been called son by this man. By this stranger. It was spoken casually, as if it was a word that was being used very often. Gibbs gritted his teeth. Nope. He didn't like this man. He glared at them both when Tony glanced around the street, and then pulled both older men with him inside the house.

Looking at Gibbs with a suspicious look, Isaac gave Tony the copy that he made. The two of them shared a look that spoke of secrets, and Gibbs would've had to be blind to not have noticed it.

"Thanks, Isaac. I owe you one." Tony smiled with ease, that irked Gibbs all the way through his already prickly mood.

"What's that?" Gibbs finally asked when no explanation came.

"It's a movie. You wouldn't like it, boss."

Gibbs scowled, impatiently. "And why is that?" So he didn't watch movies, but that didn't mean he couldn't be interested. Somehow. Okay, probably not, but he could try at least.

"Chick flick. And before you ask, the answer is no. I'm not going to watch it alone." Tony grinned, shrugging. Sensing the heavy atmosphere between the two men, he cleared his throat. "Oh, I almost forgot... Gibbs. This is Isaac, one of my dearest friends. Isaac. This is Gibbs, my boss."

Isaac, who was rarely seen without a smile of some kind, even if it was only his eyes that smiled, he now had the ugliest look on his face when he looked at the other man. Gibbs, not one to lose, glared back. You could almost see the charged air and evil energy around them. The saying 'if looks could kill' didn't suddenly sound all that impossible.

For a moment, the youngest of the three men gaped, not believing his bloodshot eyes. If he had been more sober and not so exhausted, he would have found this situation almost hilarious. Now, he suddenly felt like he was the only adult in the room. "You've got to be kidding me... I'm too tired for this now. Tired." Tony held up his hands in surrender and backed away. "I'm out of here to get some fresh air, to clear my head. You do whatever you want, I don't even care anymore. If this is some sort of pissing contest, which I know nothing about, then please go ahead; there's a perfectly good-sized back yard. Don't bite and bark too much. Wouldn't want to wake up the neighbors." Grabbing his cellphone and keys with him, Tony slammed the door closed and left, leaving the remaining two stare after him.

The men stood there for a few more minutes without saying a word and just wasting their time, sizing up each other. Then, with looks of pure distaste, they finally shook hands.

"Jethro Gibbs."

"Isaac. Just Isaac."

Chapter Text

Halfway on his impromptu walk toward the Navy Yard, Tony changed his mind and turned around. Rather than return to bed, he decided to go to his own place. It was only when he was almost home and starting to be sober enough to think clearly, that he wondered why he had decided to walk, especially if someone truly was after him. He might have as well walked around with a big and flashing red arrow pointing at him. He felt foolish, but hopefully it was the only consequence he had to deal with. Once he finally entered his apartment, rather than wanting to see what was on the CD, he felt sleep pulling at him. If he'd been tired before, it was nothing compared to how shaky he and his feet were after the long walk. But as inviting and like a magnet the bed behind the closed door was, he forced his tired feet to take him in the smallest bedroom of the two, which he had turned into his home office. Between the actual work and his personal work, it had become increasingly useful.

Sitting behind the cluttered desk, Tony pushed aside the papers covering his laptop and grimaced, seeing how close he'd been to knocking over his half-full cup of coffee, right over the papers he could not afford to ruin. He didn't even want to remember how long the coffee had been sitting there, but judging by the white layer of something forming on top of the thick black liquid, it was too long. Using his fingerprint to gain access to his laptop, he hummed along with the start-up sound and automatically took the cup in his hands, hoping that coffee would wake him up. He froze just as his lips touched the cold cup, and he stood up with a shudder. He needed some fresh coffee first, before he did something he would regret, something that could potentially put him in a hospital. Since it was him, anything was possible.

Armed with strong, fresh and hot coffee, Tony felt much more alert to his surroundings, knowing he'd be later paying it back with interest. He ignored any lingering feelings of his exhaustion and instead spent the first early morning hours going through the security feeds, which Isaac, in his blessed wisdom, got for him. What were the odds? Isaac's bar, as good as it was, and she chose that one. "Of all the gin joints, in all the towns, in all the world, she walks into mine..."

Saving and then printing out the best picture he could, of the mystery man who had been in the bar with Ziva, Tony put it on the wall and just stared at it for some time, blinking at his heavy eyelids. It had all started with one picture, and now the walls in the room were looking even more cluttered than the desk. It started with the picture of Ziva, which he had put on the wall right above the desk as some sort of reminder and motivator for himself. He was so close he could feel it in his bones. It made him both anxious and excited. Jittery, if he was tired and had too much coffee in his veins. He folded his arms tightly against his body in a vain attempt to control the tremors running through him.

"You can hide, but not for long..."

Standing up, he started pacing the room, while the program in his laptop was doing the magic of hopefully finding out who the man was. He never took his eyes off the picture, until he finally stopped as a flashback hit him, like a head-slap.

- DREAM REALITY FLASHBACK -

Gibbs stood in the bullpen and stared at the picture of the man whose name he would learn only much later. There was an intense, almost mad look on his face, and he clenched his teeth together as yet again he remembered how the man who had fooled them, fooled him, got away with that smug attitude of his. Even the sound of the elevator didn't make Gibbs lose his focus.

Tony entered the bullpen, and then he stopped, seeing the boss standing there and with his finger tapping restlessly against the huge mug of coffee he was holding. The look in those piercing eyes was so intense and unwavering, to the point it made him apprehensive. "Boss? What are you still doing here?" When the answer wasn't forthcoming anytime soon, if ever, Tony looked at the time; 1 AM. Sure, he himself had come back to do some paperwork, but that was beside the point, which was what was Gibbs doing? "Boss?" he called out again. Walking closer, Tony looked at the picture, and almost flinched when he realized what was going on. "Boss..."

Gibbs finally noticed his Agent, but with the way his eyes looked through him, his mind was clearly still elsewhere. "Go home. It's too late to be at work."

Ignoring the order to go home, Tony removed his jacket and started working on his paperwork. " You know that staring at it won't make any difference, don't you?"

Gibbs didn't answer and instead kept his eyes on the picture. It was obsessive, for sure, but at least he wasn't out there running after the man on his own. For now. Only time would tell what he would do later... Tony hoped the old man would trust him enough to let his Second know what was going on in that head of his...

Slumping down on the chair, Tony groaned, "She's my Ari... I'm turning into Gibbs." It figured that his version of the 'great white whale' would be a woman... Someone somewhere out there had to be laughing at him right now. Standing up, he reached toward the picture to tear it down, but he found himself hesitating a moment too long before finally doing it. It was then that Gibbs finally called him. He almost glared at the phone before answering the call. "Yeah?"

"Where are you? You're not at work." The old man sounded almost anxious. Tony didn't even have the energy to feel bad about it.

"So, who won?"

"What?"

"The pissing contest. You and Isaac." There was a long silence after that and, for a moment, Tony could almost swear he felt the man's embarrassment through the phone. He was pretty sure that even the phone felt warmer in his hand.

When Gibbs spoke again, he sounded more like himself again. "Where are you?"

"Just doing some stuff. Will be back soon."

"DiNozzo..."

"I won't be gone for long. I'll see you at home." Tony hung up. "Mother," he added, with a small grin tugging at the corners of his lips. Casting one last look toward Ziva's face on his desk, he pushed it in the trashcan under the desk. Feeling irritated, he closed the laptop. He really didn't fancy the idea of turning into his boss, much as he did care about him. Once upon a long time ago, he would've maybe been thrilled by that, but now... Now he knew better.

His phone was ringing again, and he rolled his eyes, seeing that it was Gibbs. "What?"

"You got any beer left at your place?"

He didn't even bother wondering how the man had found out where he was. "A few... Why?"

"Bring them with you." And Gibbs hung up on him.

"Always has to have the last word..." Tony shook his head almost fondly.

Stepping out of the cab, Tony balanced the five bottles of beer in his arms as he reached over to open the front door when he thought he heard something, like the kind of sound when someone brushes a hand over a fabric, accompanied by something else. Already on edge, he turned around sharply and scanned the area under the glowing streetlights. Nothing caught his eyes, and maybe he was being merely paranoid, on top of being tired, but he couldn't just let it be. 'Never assume'. Quietly leaving the bottles next to the door, he carefully made his way toward where he thought he'd heard it. Just as he was thinking that he'd just imagined the importance of the sound, he saw it, a dark shadow moving close to the backdoor. His hand went to where he usually kept his gun, only to remember he had left it in the guest room. Mentally head-slapping himself, Tony was about to change his plan when the shadow froze and turned around.

"Why are you always where you should not be, Agent?"

"I guess it's my famous luck, Ziva," Tony answered dryly, while keeping most of his focus on the weapon in her hand. As he'd hoped, he clearly startled her. Unfortunately, it wasn't enough for her to make a mistake so that he could safely make his move.

Ziva stepped out of the shadows, both annoyed and confused look on her face. "Do I know you?" There was a razor-sharp edge to her voice.

Seeing her like this brought back so many painful memories, but as he had learned to do in most cases, he pushed those images away for later observation. With a charming grin, Tony shrugged. "No, but I know everything about you, miss Mossad." Ziva's eyes narrowed dangerously and while Tony knew that he had just put himself in an even worse position by revealing he was a potential threat, he regretted nothing. If he lived through this, perhaps with some luck she'd keep a low profile for a while, which was a time he'd need to be more prepared next time.

The tension in the air was so thick you could almost cut it with the dagger she held. Before either of the two had time to think about their next move, the front door opened and Gibbs' voice came from the other side of the house with a worried, "Tony?"

Taking the chance, Tony jumped forward, barely seeing the flash of the dagger flying behind him, a mere few inches from actually hitting him. They fell on the ground in a heap of swearing and angry wrestling. While Tony was stronger, she had other kind of tricks in her sleeve. His advantage was knowing most of them, but since she wasn't exactly playing it fair and the sound of running feet distracted him for a mere second, he let out a sharp intake of breath as something sharp pierced his left arm. From when Gibbs stepped outside to when Tony's focus finally returned, only a few seconds had passed, but it was still enough; Ziva had disappeared again. Tony stood up slowly, and as he looked at his bleeding arm, he made a face. It was his own belt knife. How embarrassing. Carelessly pulling it out, he was glad to discover that it had looked worse than it was.

"What happened?!" Gibbs demanded with a growl, more worried than angry, but you couldn't see the difference unless you knew the man well.

"Had a little wrestling match... While normally the idea of that with a woman sounds hot, I'd rather not have this memory." The image of Ziva actually finding this knife, of all things, made Tony shudder, and he resisted the instinct to cross his legs and cover his groin with his hands. Just one wrong move and... No future DiNozzos.

After throwing few angry glances around, Gibbs dragged Tony inside to take care of the wound, which was more painful than serious. He didn't seem to care that the blood was ruining his couch. "DiNozzo. Talk."

"Someone was spying on you. I think she was even going to get inside the house, but I ruined the plan, so she took it out on me."

"She?"

"Yeah. I saw her well enough to know it was a woman." Saw and felt, he didn't add. He wasn't in the mood for smartass comments, shockingly enough.

"You would be able to identify her?"

You have no idea... "I think so."

After the wound was taken care of, Gibbs stared at Tony, obviously trying to read something from his face, so Tony kept his face as normal as he could. "You're okay? She didn't hurt you anywhere else?"

"Just my pride. I got my ass kicked by a girl." He grinned. Okay, so perhaps he wasn't entirely out of his smartassery.

Gibbs cracked a smile before turning serious again. "You'll... tell me if it's something serious?"

Tony hesitated. "It's... complicated. Let me sleep on it?"

"It's morning."

"You know what I mean."

Gibbs nodded and glanced at the bottles of beer he'd brought inside. "I've got cowboy steaks."

Tony stared, and then he looked at the time, yawning. "At—wow—almost 7 AM? Really, Gibbs?" Gibbs shrugged and Tony grinned weakly. Well, normal wasn't their style anyway. "Fine... And then we'll talk."

"We will."

"And, boss, I still want to know who won."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes, but he didn't say anything.

Outside, where the dagger had been, a hand of the owner silently took it back.

She had to somehow make sure this DiNozzo person wouldn't be ruining any of her plans again. Father was already not happy with her, thinking that someone else should have been given this task... But this was her chance to prove that she was more than just a killing machine. However, since DiNozzo seemed to know her, he could be warning Agent Gibbs, and it would ruin everything, if he hadn't already. Perhaps it was time to forget Gibbs for a while and study his young Agent instead. After all, his personal information should be much easier to get...

Chapter Text

"I've been taking sniper lessons."

The piece of meat Gibbs was about to eat was forgotten as he stared at Tony, but the dead serious look told him it was no joke. "What?"

Poking at his steak with a knife, Tony shrugged. "For a while now."

Gibbs wasn't sure what to say. He was disappointed, because Tony hadn't come to him. He did know that his boss was a sniper, right..?

Sensing the question, Tony answered, "I didn't think I should come to you. Too many trust issues and then when I decided to tell you about it anyway, you told me that you knew about my crazy dream... I kind of lost my will to tell about it then."

"Tony..."

"We've already been there, though, so let's leave it for now. You know... Eugene is a good teacher, when he's not trying to kill you with his love for the weapons and explosives. He kicks your ass like you're in the army or something, but he's good." Tony swallowed hard, and now it was Gibbs who was poking at his own steak. Tony glanced at his boss and saw the disappointment he had tried to not look at. "But he's not you, boss. You could... show me a few tricks sometime?"

Gibbs looked up with a surprised look on his face, and maybe slightly hopeful, but Tony was afraid he had grossed a line when Gibbs just kept staring at him. He was about to take back his words, or turn it into a joke or something, when Gibbs smiled. "Yeah. I'd like that. Want to see how good you are."

Tony grinned proudly. "I haven't shot myself again."

Gibbs froze. "Again?" he demanded.

"My very first lesson with Eugene. I did so good that I got too sure of myself, and before I know it, he's yelling at me something and I end up shooting myself in the foot. Haven't made that mistake again."

"The hunting date incident..."

"Yeah. That one."

"You know, you could've just told me the truth, DiNozzo. Way better excuse... I never really bought it anyway; you don't seem the type to go out with women who love to go hunting on their date."

"I know. Just wasn't at that point ready to tell you. And for the record, I have dated a woman like that. Although it didn't last for very long. We didn't need both of us wearing the pants and carrying a gun. It brought way too many issues. Even if the fights were kind of hot when we made up."

"Been there myself before." Gibbs nodded, and both men shuddered. It just didn't work. Not for a long time anyway.

The silence took over again as they finished eating. It was 8 AM, and neither had slept all night. For a change, it had nothing to do with work. They'd probably regret it soon, once the sleepless night and the long days at work caught up with them again.

Gibbs finally broke the silence, "That woman who attacked you... She someone you know?"

"We... have a shared history. In a dream." Tony chuckled humorlessly. Was there any good or better way to say it? It sounded so ridiculous, even to his own ears. "I don't know if I'm finally getting used to this insanity, or I'm finally losing it."

"If you do, I'll just whack the sanity back in your head," Gibbs promised.

"Great..." Tony rubbed the back of his head; the phantom feeling of his head being slapped almost all too real to his tired mind.

"So, what kind of history? I bet Isaac knows all about it." Gibbs sounded bitter, and Tony cast him a look with raised eyebrows. He took out a folded paper from his pocket and gave it to Gibbs.

"Ignore the drawings on it."

Gibbs stared at the picture of Ziva, which Tony had drawn on. "She did something to you?"

"This..." Tony hesitated, "is Ziva David. The woman who attacked me and the woman from my dreams, which sounds way nicer than it is." Tony watched as Gibbs studied the picture with a deep frown on his face. "You can keep it. Just don't let anyone else see it. She might come forward and try to be 'friends'," he made air quotes, "with you or kill you. Hard to tell at this point. Maybe some big sob story to try to get close to you, possibly using her daddy card... I want you to be prepared."

"Who is she?"

Tony wondered about that for a moment. How much should he tell? Then again, Gibbs would be looking into it himself, so at this point it didn't matter. "She's from Mossad."

Gibbs looked up sharply, but Tony shook his head. They wouldn't be talking about this anymore, when his mind wasn't at the sharpest. It was time to change the subject. "You still haven't told me who won the contest. You or Isaac?"

"There was no contest," Gibbs denied irritably, and Tony flashed a knowing smile. Ah. So Isaac won... No surprise there; the man was used to dealing with bastards worse than Gibbs, and that was saying something.

- FLASHBACK -

The two men stood there, still glaring at one another. The Marine and the bartender. A bit of an odd pair if you really started to think about it, but right now neither of those two titles mattered. While Gibbs was unaware or in denial about the real nature of the situation, Isaac was very much aware. They were two alpha males who had both, in a way, adopted the young man. And neither was willing to share nor back off.

"So you're the infamous Gibbs, the boss," Isaac finally said, not at all impressed. Not after nursing back Tony's spirit so many times since they met, and all those drunken confessions about this Gibbs and his dream version.

Gibbs had a faint memory of having heard Tony mention the name before, once, maybe few times. "Funny. I've never heard of you. So you're a friend of his?" For some reason, he felt the need to add emphasis to the 'friend'.

"Sure. A friend. A caretaker. Shrink... Whatever title suits best at any given moment." Isaac's sardonic smile was so different from his usual warm and happy smiles. This one was all sharp edges of cutting steel.

"DiNozzo is a grown man. He doesn't need to be looked after." Gibbs held back his growl, barely. It wasn't anyone's business, and he'd never admit or let it be seen, but he felt paternal feelings rise in him whenever Tony so much as had a paper cut.

Isaac chuckled. "DiNozzo? Well, Tony and I have become quite close. Close enough to be sharing secrets, so I'd say that with all that I know so far, he sure does need someone to look after him."

"If it comes to that, I'll be sure to watch his six," Gibbs grumbled.

"Sure... I guess that's why he so often shows up at the bar injured."

"Getting injured happens in our line of work." Bar? Gibbs had barely started worrying about Tony having a possible drinking problem, when Isaac scoffed.

"He doesn't have a problem with alcohol. I own the bar, so it's only logical for him to spend his time there when he needs some friendly company."

Gibbs glared, and although he was relieved, that still didn't mean he liked or even trusted this man. Even his gut was trying to tell him something, but he didn't know how to read it, which was unusual. Or it could be his denial at work again.

"Let's be honest with each other, Agent. You don't like me, and I really don't like you. However, for the sake of that young man who, for some bizarre reason, cares about you, we should remain civil while in his presence. But know that if you break his heart again," Isaac looked the other man in the eye, "I'll come after you with a rusty blade."

Again, Gibbs felt that nasty feeling of jealousy mixed with anger. "He told you about his dreams?"

"Why wouldn't he? For some reason, he trusts me and I won't break it. I will take any of his secrets with me down to the grave."

"I know how to handle my own Agent." Honestly, Gibbs was still learning, but Isaac didn't have to know it.

"Right..." Isaac snorted, and after giving one last look, he turned around to leave. Before he reached the front door, he turned around one last time. "Mark my word, Agent, I will find the rustiest blade I can find and come after you if you hurt him."

"You're close with everyone else but me?" Gibbs had to know. The thought bothered him. At some point, he had slipped the picture in his own pocket. When he had the time, he would try to find out more.

Tony stared at him. Just what had the two men talked about? "Boss... Whatever it is..."

"You talk to him. Isaac."

Staring at the beer bottle in his hands, Tony took a swig before putting it down. "I needed someone to talk to, someone who isn't a part of our world. Since becoming a cop, I haven't had a lot of those; people who don't live in our world. And I think that's one of those things I've been missing in both this and the other life, a balance of some kind. A link between the work and normal world. Dating doesn't count, because most of those women come and go and there's usually not much talking involved." Tony grinned and didn't mention how most of those stories about his wild dating habits were only rumors. As if he had time to even meet all those women.

"As close as I still am with some of my frat brother, I rarely have time to see them anymore, and they too have their own lives most of those times when I do find that time. So when I met Isaac, things just sort of clicked. He both lives and works close to me, and he's just what I needed." Someone who hadn't broken his trust yet. "Someone who is just a normal guy. While Isaac can make you sometimes question just how normal he really is, he has a big heart. He helps me forget when I need to forget, and doesn't force me to talk. I only talk about my secrets when I've had too much to drink anyway, and even then I don't tell him everything... But I much rather talk to him than to some shrink."

Still more than you talk to me... Gibbs thought bitterly.

"And, boss... It was your idea for me to stay here, and you know how much I've been avoiding doing it. It's your house I'm living in right now, not Isaac's. So stop hiding in the basement and talk to me if something bothers you. I can always go back to my own place. You claim that I don't talk, but it's you who doesn't want to listen. Not really... As usual, your words and your actions don't go hand-in-hand."

Gibbs sighed, and he stood up. "I'll go put some more coffee on."

"Boss..."

"And if you're not too tired, we'll put our day off to good use. If you think this... Eugene? If you think he's a tough teacher, you have seen nothing yet." Gibbs had a lopsided smile on his face.

When the man was gone in the kitchen, Tony made a face. What was he thinking, letting Gibbs teach him..? The man who had no problem making Kate shoot her PDA and his beloved hat, which was so wrong... He had finished making a quick mental check up to make sure he didn't have anything with him that he couldn't bear to lose, when Gibbs walked back with two cups of coffee.

"Drink up." Gibbs handed Tony his coffee, and while drinking, the young man nearly spat out the hot liquid when he saw what else Gibbs was holding.

"Where did you..? That's the first edition..! Do you have any idea how rare it is?"

Gibbs smirked and took a sip of his coffee. He knew it would pay back to buy the stupid movie... Although it was supposed to be a gift to his Agent, not be used this way. "Don't worry, DiNozzo. I won't make you shoot at it. The question is, can you shoot at the target without hitting this?"

"Boss..." Tony whined, staring at the treasured DVD with wide eyes. He automatically started thinking about the possibilities of missing the target and... What if there was a sudden strong wind? Or anything else he hadn't been prepared for.

"Don't worry. If you manage to save it from any damage, it's yours to keep."

Chapter Text

Gibbs stood in his basement, staring at the old photograph. Although he had promised Tony to not keep escaping and hiding down in the basement while the young man was staying with him, he still found himself occasionally doing just that and not even working on his boat, but just staring at the picture of his girls. And talking, either out loud or just inside his head. Like Tony, he wasn't a fan of talking to shrinks about his 'feelings', but sometimes even he needed to have things spoken out loud.

With the inner battle going on whenever work wasn't occupying his mind, a part of him was perhaps hoping for some sign, which he knew would never be there. Anything that would take away the guilt that was eating at him. Lately it had been even worse, and it didn't help that he enjoyed being able to teach Tony what he knew about being a sniper, passing on his skills and knowledge. Not that being a sniper was something he wished for Tony to ever consider doing for a living, but it was perhaps a good excuse for both of them to spend more time together outside work. He still hadn't found out the real reason for the need to learn such skills, but Gibbs hoped that with some time, Tony would trust him enough to tell him. He didn't buy the explanation of 'hearing stories about you as the sniper, made me want to try this '.

"You know I'm no good with these things, Shann. You were always the one who could talk about feelings and understood them much better than I ever could... You were so much better with the big words."

Looking up as if to make sure no one was standing there and listening, Gibbs sighed. Was he betraying their memory? Did he have the right to feel this way? With his ex-wives, he had never felt this way. Even with Abby, who was as close to a daughter as anyone could be, he had never felt this amount of guilt and even shame. With Tony, he... He felt the same way he had felt toward his girls. It was almost like they were equals, but it didn't make sense. Since when had his strange obsession, which even he could still not really explain, turned into a relationship that was an odd mix of a friendship and almost hate on Tony's part, and from that to this strange longing a father would feel toward a son who kept pushing him away.

"Maybe I should talk to Ducky about this, but then he'd never forget it and would go way too deep. Not sure I'm ready to even want to understand all the deep meanings of life... Again, that was your part in our relationship. I was the stubborn mule who didn't care talking about the deep and meaningful things, and you had the perfect answer for every situation. You were my perfect partner, my better half."

"Boss, it's 3 AM. Get some sleep. We don't need you to be a bastard to me and Kate at the shooting range tomorrow... Or should I say today?"

Gibbs almost jumped when he heard the voice speaking at the stairs. Almost. Only his Marine training helped him keep his 'cool Marine boss' act in front of the former Detective, who could be just as bad as he when it came to sneaking around without anyone noticing before it was too late. Hiding the picture, he turned around to see Tony staring at him. With his bit too long hair at every odd angle, he looked like he just woke up.

"What are you doing up then?" Gibbs challenged, wondering how much he had heard.

Tony shrugged, rubbing his eyes tiredly, he yawned. "Bathroom. Heard some noise and figured either the ninja was back or you're down here again." Ignoring the glare and obvious desire to be left alone, Tony made his way down the rest of the way and glanced around, obviously looking for that someone Gibbs had been talking to. Not seeing anyone, a knowing look crossed his face. "Oh... Sorry, boss. I'll just... You. Ah. Want to be alone?"

"You think?" Gibbs snapped, and only a second later he regretted his harsh tone. Especially when he saw the way those green eyes became darker for a split second. An old dog doesn't learn the new tricks that easily, and some never did. For an old dog like Jethro Gibbs, the fact that he was willing to even try was a big deal.

Tony nodded and slowly backed away to the stairs. "Yeah. I could tell you were kind of in the middle of... something. Just didn't realize that... I'm sorry. Carry on."

"Wait. I..." Once again, Gibbs found himself hoping for Shannon to be there and do the deep heart-to-heart talking for him. He knew by now, more or less, that Tony could read him pretty well, so there were not many words needed between the two of them. Still, he hoped to be able to speak out for a change.

"It's fine. You don't have to explain anything." Tony looked about just as uncomfortable as Gibbs felt. He knew how private those two were to his boss. It wasn't something the man willingly shared with people.

Gibbs grunted something and pointed at Tony to sit down with him. For a while they just sat there in the basement in silence, and it was only after Tony was almost half-asleep, that Gibbs held out something for him to take.

Blinking his sleepy eyes and trying to keep them open, Tony frowned. "You really don't have to. I understand. I really do. It's not like I'm sharing or going to share my every personal secret with you."

Gibbs kept holding the photo until Tony finally took it, carefully and reverently, as if he was afraid that just touching the picture could make it disappear. Frankly, knowing his luck, he wouldn't be surprised if somehow he would manage to mess things up. Didn't make it any easier to remember the last time he held the photo and what his boss' reaction had then been. "They're beautiful."

"They were," Gibbs agreed softly, not ignorant to the thoughtful if unnecessary avoidance of using the past tense. He feigned ignorance when Tony held the photo back toward him, fully aware that Tony knew what he was doing and that he knew Tony knew. As Abby would say, it was one of their creepy moments of knowing what the other was thinking about. 'Creepy' and 'secret power' were possibly some of the most used words she used when describing it. If only their shared 'secret power' would work when Gibbs was trying to figure out his young Agent when the man decided to completely block out any attempts for anyone to read him.

The corner of Tony's mouth twitched upwards in amusement, and he glanced at the smiling redhead in the photo. "He's a real piece of work, you know? I mean, of course you know. You married him."

"What?"

"Was talking to your wife, boss."

- DREAM -

"Jethro... If you're not careful, you will lose your last chance to live with happiness. True happiness and not a substitute this time."

Gibbs frowned in confusion, and he looked at the redhead sitting next to him, but his wife only smiled at him gently. He knew this was just a dream, of course it was. It always was, and it had taken a long time for him to learn to accept it. The dream was one of those that he often had when he did sleep and had dreams that weren't nightmares. Sitting on a beach with Shannon as they watched the sunset painting the water and sky in many colors, while their daughter played in the water nearby so that they could keep an eye on her. This time, it seemed that his daily worries reached even his happy dreams.

"You need to let go of us."

"No." Gibbs frowned at the mere thought. His dreams and his fading memories were all he had left. If he let go...

"You won't forget us, Jethro. These dreams will stop, but it's only a good thing."

"I can't, Shannon... If I let go, there's nothing left for me, of me. Of you."

Now it was Shannon's turn to frown, and she looked at him scoldingly. "You know that's not true. Why else do you keep escaping in your basement and in these dreams more than you have before? Be honest with yourself, Jethro... It's not that you are afraid of betraying our memory. You know it's not going to happen. Not with him. Unlike the others, he's not a replacement. You know I would have liked the kid just as much as you do. You know Kelly would have loved him."

Gibbs smiled sadly and brushed his fingers softly over her cheekbone, which he knew was nothing but a creation of his own memories, which would fade away as soon as he woke up. "So what is it then?"

"You're afraid to care about anyone that much again. You're afraid of going through the same pain as you did with us. But you don't know if that will ever happen."

"Our job..."

"There's always a possibility, but if you knew what would happen to me and Kelly and that there was no way to stop it from happening, would you choose to walk away from me and to have never had Kelly?" Gibbs looked horrified and Shannon smiled. "Well, there you go. There's your answer."

They heard the now familiar sound cutting through the evening, and Kelly looked up from the waves with sadness that was a reflection of the sadness Gibbs felt.

"I don't want to wake up..."

"We'll never be truly gone. Corny and cliché it may be, but we'll always live on in your heart and memories." Before everything began to fade away, she said again, "And, Jethro... Don't wait too long or you will risk losing it all. You can't always be that stubborn mule. There's a time for everything, and this is not it."

It was almost 6 AM. Not early for him, but either he was getting old, or he wished to keep dreaming of his favorite moments with his girls, because waking up was so hard. Glaring for a few long seconds at the phone, which had woken him up from the dream, Gibbs finally answered it with a few choice words.

A moment later, he stormed to the guest room while still changing his clothes. It seemed that Tony had some kind of inner alarm system, since almost the moment he opened the door, his Agent sat up, still looking half-asleep. Truthfully, Tony had barely even slept after going back to bed only a couple of hours ago. "Get ready, DiNozzo. Fornell called to warn some people from the FBI are coming this morning to try to force you to work for them. That Agent Frod something is one of them."

The image of the Voltolini family and him at the wedding, with a gun held against his head, flashed through Tony's half-awake mind, and he shuddered at the thought. "Think I should just run for it while I still can, boss?"

"If it comes to that, we'll deal with the situation as it is," Gibbs said darkly. He could already feel this day would be one of those where no amount of the best kind of coffee in the whole wide world could fix. He might need his entire bastard personality to get through this, since there was no way he was letting the FBI bully his Agent into being their little puppet in their games, and especially when his gut told him it would not end well. "Not gonna let them walk over you, DiNozzo," Gibbs promised softly, when he saw the worried look that didn't leave Tony's face, which he surprisingly wasn't even trying to hide it from his boss.

"I know better than you think how some people can make others do what they want."

"DiNozzo. I— We won't let it happen."

Tony smiled a smile without amusement, a 'whatever you say, boss, but I know better,' smile. "I'm a big boy. I know one way or another I'll leave them empty-handed. I'm more worried about the outcome after it. Usually when I truly piss off someone, it's going to come back and bite me when I least expect it."

Gibbs didn't say anything, but he chose to ruffle the young man's hair. Such overly affectionate action froze them for a moment, but in a silent agreement, they decided they were still half-asleep and needed some coffee to feel more like themselves again.

Chapter Text

When they made it to the Navy Yard, they were grateful to find out that, since it was still so early, the FBI hadn't arrived yet. It gave them time to prepare themselves.

"I called Morrow. He's on his way."

"Don't tell me you woke him up, boss. You know how much he was looking forward to getting some much-needed rest on his day off. If he comes here, pissed off, I won't be the one giving explanations," Tony grumbled unhappily.

"And it's good I did. He wasn't pleased to hear that someone is trying to use one of his agents, without him even knowing it. He would have been even less happy to find out we kept it from him." Gibbs gave Tony a firm pat on the shoulder. "Sit tight. I'll go get us some coffee."

"Wow. Did you get up on the right side of the bed this morning, boss?"

"Smartass. If they show up while I'm gone, don't let them take you anywhere without either me or the Director with you. Shoot them if you have to. I don't trust these guys. Wouldn't be the first time they kidnap someone to do their persuasion at their own headquarters. Their territory, their rules. Or even worse, some secret location where we wouldn't even know to look from."

"Sure thing, boss. I'll set up the alarm on the rooftop, so you'll know to come running," Tony answered dryly. Gibbs stopped halfway to the elevator to stare at him with raised eyebrows. Tony shrugged. "I got up on the wrong side of the bed this morning."

Gibbs shook his head. "Behave. And call me if they come. I mean it, DiNozzo. Can't keep you safe if you won't let me."

"I'll be fine," Tony muttered once the older man was gone. Staring at his phone, he decided to text Kate. This had nothing to do with her, and he did let her know there was no need to come to work earlier because of this, but since they had pretty much kept her outside their own little 'inner circle', he figured it wouldn't hurt to let her at least know about the situation in case she walked in while it was happening or heard about it later from someone else. He knew how much he'd always hated being left out 'just because they could', especially when he found out about it later.

Few minutes later, he received a text from her saying, 'I'm on my way'.

As much as they 'back then' had spent their time bickering and arguing, they did almost become real partners they could count on. It was a shame she had to die just when things were starting to look good. Not that dying wasn't bad enough... Even before he'd finally had enough of Ziva, who had her own set of rules and ninja assassin ways, he would have chosen Kate over Ziva any day. With all her faults and mistakes, Kate was the one who at least had the potential to be an Agent. Ziva never understood what it meant to work with someone as partners and under a certain set of rules. Sure, there were times when those rules could and even should be stretched, but to know when and how was a skill not many possessed, and she was not one of those people. That Gibbs never bothered to fix anything that was wrong with their team, made it all even worse. He should've been the leader, instead of encouraging those things to fester until it was too late to fix anything, only to purge it all out.

Remembering that moment, when Kate was shot in the head, was all it took for Tony's resolution to return with vengeance. She would not to die. It was yet another thing he never truly got over; to have the sister of Ari in their team. Ari, the man who murdered Kate. It felt like betrayal, the easy way she'd been accepted, but he had kept his mouth shut. No matter how much it hurt every time he saw her sitting behind Kate's desk. So he did what he could do best and put on his mask, upped his game, did his best at even trying to accept her, despite everything. He'd always regretted it.

Tony glanced at the elevator doors when he heard the arrival of someone who he hoped was Gibbs, but he knew it wasn't possible, unless the older man had decided to skip the coffee. And if that were to happen, he would have to write it down: 'The day the world stopped turning '. Tony gave the arrivals his calm and polite, but in no way friendly, smile. It was one of those smiles you reserve for the family member or the friend of a friend whose company you didn't enjoy but were forced to tolerate. Or in this case, the three agents from the FBI; Fred and his two buddies. "How can I help you?"

"Agent DiNozzo." Fred nodded as his greeting. He looked too calm and sure of himself, as if he knew without a doubt that one way or another he would get what he came here for. Tony smiled. The man hadn't yet met the unmovable force called DiNozzo.

By the time Gibbs returned, Tony was still sitting behind his desk, much to the older man's relief. However, he was being surrounded by three FBI agents. "What's going on?" he growled, and only Tony heard another question in there and saw the flash of hurt in his eyes. Why didn't you call me?

Tony looked calm and nonchalant, but there was anger in his eyes. "Ah, boss. My new friends here think I have no need of a phone."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes when he noticed one of the men holding Tony's mobile phone, and another had his hand over the phone on the desk. "Is that so?"

The other two agents looked uncomfortable, but Fred didn't even look at Gibbs to see the danger in there. Instead, he kept his eyes firmly on Tony, thinking he was looking intimidating. For Tony, who had faced many much more intimidating people in his life, one of them being present, to him this was like a baby tiger trying to imitate the real thing. Throw the FBI Agent in the wilderness, and he wouldn't last a day around the truly dangerous beasts.

"On what grounds are you here, holding my Agent a hostage?" Gibbs demanded, with tense muscles of someone ready to pounce. He moved to stand next to Tony, handing him the promised coffee. He noticed for the first time something that Tony already knew. At first, he had thought it was Fred and two agents, but now he could see it was just Fred and two very green and fresh kids with him. A very foolish move that could get the man himself in trouble, but he'd had the nerve to drag in two young agents whose entire careers could be put in jeopardy because of him.

Correction: would, not could. Gibbs would make sure of it...

"I am here to offer Agent DiNozzo a deal." Fred was so sure with the something that he had, it would guarantee the Agent's agreement. He knew it. Still, his tall posture crumbled a bit under Gibbs' murderous glare.

Tony turned to look at Gibbs, saying, "And I keep telling him I don't care what the deal is. There's no way I'm going to jump when he tells me to. I'm not his dog to order around."

The elevator doors opened again, this time to reveal Tom Morrow, Kate and a few of their own people coming to work. While Kate looked slightly disheveled, Tom looked pissed off and sleep-deprived. Besides Tony, only Gibbs saw them coming. Blissfully unaware, Fred kept digging himself that much deeper hole to fall in, now with the Director himself having joined them.

"And I'm telling, once you finally hear me out, that you will agree to cooperate with us." Fred looked irritated. He had wanted to get this over and done with much faster, but DiNozzo had made no move to go anywhere, looking unimpressed.

Tony glanced at the Director with an apologetic look, for having ruined the man's day off. "Well, go ahead. Tell me what you want. I don't mind the others listening." Despite his outward calmness, Tony was just a tiny bit worried about what Fred could possibly have to make the man so sure of himself. He couldn't think of anything.

"As my Agent told you, go ahead. We're all ears," Tom's voice boomed in the almost empty bullpen, and the FBI agents were startled, only now noticing the others who had joined them. "Does your Director know you are here?" Tom asked, and Fred licked at his suddenly dry lips. "Let me answer for you... Yes. Yes, he does. I called him on my way here, and I guarantee you, this doesn't end well for you. So you might as well use your last chance to speak out."

Fred swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. "It's between me and him—"

"That's Agent DiNozzo to you," Gibbs interrupted.

"Between me and Agent DiNozzo."

"Really? I thought this was an FBI matter, not private," Tony wondered with wide amused eyes and Fred took one angry step closer. There was no way to know if he was an actual danger to Tony or not, but Kate looked alarmed and joined his partners with few long strides. Standing next to Tony, she looked tall and threatening, while Gibbs still hadn't left his spot on the other side. Then there were few of their own agents, plus the Director, which meant the FBI men were surrounded. You didn't go to a beehive with a stick, but with smoke and some proper protective gear on, unless you were prepared to get stung. They really hadn't thought this one through.

"We're waiting," Gibbs growled, and Fred swallowed again.

"It's... We are here to offer Agent DiNozzo a deal. If he agrees to cooperate, his father may have his sentence reduced. He is currently under heavy investigation over some bad business dealings and could potentially face some jail time." As he kept talking, Fred started to look and sound much more sure of himself again. It had been almost like a gift sent from heaven when he found out whose father that charming old man was. And the old man was just as eager to have his son cooperate, in order to get his own ass out of the line of fire.

The other three looked a mess of emotions at this, that Fred dared to use the young man's father against him. Tony himself was amused, although his eyes looked like dark green pools of danger and something else they couldn't identify.

"And I'm sure your boss agreed with the deal." Tony smiled sweetly, and he knew he got it right, seeing the way Fred's eyes shifted away from him for a moment. "Let me make something very clear to you, Fred, my friend. The relationship between me and my dear old man is a bit..." Tony's lips twisted in a way that wasn't quite a sneer. "Complicated. I'm not going into all the gory details, but I hope that telling you how it ended will be enough. Besides, I'm sure if you bother digging just a little bit more, you'll find it out on your own. I was a twelve-year-old when my father disowned me. That should be enough. But add that to everything else the old man ever did to me, and as far as I'm concerned, I owe him nothing and I never had a father. Without a mother and him as my father, I might as well be an orphan. We may share the same name and blood, but to me, he's a stranger at best."

Kate had gasped at the, 'my father disowned me,' part, which Tony ignored. He kept his eyes on Fred, who was now frowning as the realization was slowly starting to sink in; he was not going to get any deals out of this. "Since you are here, sir." Tony finally glanced at his Director, who looked openly horrified at the thought of a parent disowning his own child. A twelve-year-old child. What could a boy that age possibly do to deserve it? What could any child do to deserve it? An adult was one thing, and usually even then it had to be an extreme case. But a child?

"In case situations like this one happens again, you might as well make a note about it in my files or something, I don't care. Senior is a conman whose only interest is what he benefits. If he needs my help when he's in trouble, because of something he did again, then I don't even want to know. I really don't care." Not anymore. "It's none of my business, just like my life is not his. He's ruined way too many lives already and deserves more than just some little jail time for his crimes."

Tony's next words were mostly for Fred again. "For the sake of everyone, don't let him charm his way out of it this time." And indeed, Senior was like a charmer who could charm a snake, and once he no longer needed it, he would turn around and kill it. The only way to not fall under his spell was to keep reminding yourself what kind of man he truly is. As his son who had lived to see the worst of him, Tony knew better than anyone what the true face of Anthony DiNozzo Senior was like. "If you see Senior again, let him know that if he ever again even thinks about pulling me into his own mess and schemes, I'll suddenly remember all his past deeds and the people who would gladly turn against him, and throw them all out in the open. And I guarantee he won't see the light of day. Until then, I neither remember nor know him. He's dead to me." Something in him hurt saying that last part, despite everything, but he ruthlessly stamped it down.

Tony realized then that even with the few people listening, this would spread and possibly grow and change as gossips did. He didn't care, though. Not anymore, not this time. As long as people knew he had nothing to do with Senior the next time the old man's true colors came out, that's all he desired out of it. With the way he had allowed Senior back into his life in the 'dream', he couldn't even believe how stupid he really had been. Sure, he could forgive the man. But why did he allow his abuser back in his life, without so much as any regret from the old man? He of all people should've known how good an actor Senior was... After all, it wasn't just a skill you were born with it. All the acting and masks he always used, they all came from what he learned from his father first and when protecting himself from the man and the world in general.

Gibbs broke the silence, "What are you still doing here?"

"It's what I was wondering too," Tobias Fornell said suddenly. No one had noticed him coming from the stairs.

"What took you so long?" Gibbs growled and Tobias simply shrugged, turning his focus on the three FBI agents, who were suddenly looking very small.

"Let's go. We have a mess to clean, and you three are in a hot enough water right now, and I'm not sure I can do a whole lot for you. Frankly, I don't know if I want to."

Before the agents left, Tony cleared his throat and held out his hand. The man, who was still holding his phone, hurriedly returned it to the owner. Once the FBI was gone, Tom looked at Tony curiously. "They made sure I couldn't call anyone."

Tom growled. "I'll make a few phone calls. This shouldn't have happened. Especially not here." Tom stormed into his office, and then it was just team Gibbs and some other agents, who left in a hurry after one look from Gibbs. Silence took over again, until Tony finally sighed and took a long sip of his coffee.

"You know, I could have handled them on my own just fine."

"That's not the point, DiNozzo."

"And, Kate, it is nice that you came, but like I told you, you didn't have to."

"Oh, shut up. Just say thank you," Kate snapped, but her eyes were warm. She had been worried.

"Thank you." Tony chuckled, and he became serious again, staring quietly at his desk, making Gibbs and Kate share concerned looks over his head. As much as he acted like this whole thing with his father didn't bother him, it did. He was sad and angry at the same time. And once again, he found himself wondering if he would know how to be a father if he ever got the chance. "Boss... Could we hit the gym for a while?"

Gibbs blinked and then, squeezing Tony's shoulder, he nodded. "Sure thing. And then the shooting range. Kate. You too."

For a change, Kate didn't show her displeasure, but simply picked up her things and hurried after her partners as they left. She couldn't be sure, but whatever it was that happened today, however subtle it may have been, she felt like right now she truly was a part of the team. Maybe not close enough to know the deepest, personal secrets these men shared between each other, but it was fine. Both of them were very private, and when Tony had informed her of this situation when he didn't have to, she'd known that whatever she would choose to do, it would underlay a lot of things when it came to the growing partnership, and maybe even a friendship between them. Whatever came later, be it more trust and closer relationship, that would only be an added bonus.

Chapter Text

"Kate, please listen to me. I wouldn't say this without a good reason. Don't trust her. You'll get too emotionally involved and when things go wrong, this will haunt you for the rest of your life," Tony pleaded for her to listen to him. Even though he knew it wouldn't make her change her mind, he had to try.

After the visit from Fred and his buddies, life had been pretty normal for Tony, which wasn't saying much since this was his life and his normal. While it worried him why he hadn't suddenly heard from Voltolini for a while, he had enjoyed the normal routine. However temporary, he was almost at ease with his memories and the knowledge from the dream, and he was by now so used to being able to change some events from happening. Not all or even most, but some, which had to count for something at least. He had not once given it a thought of how he would stop Kate from bonding with Suzanne McNeil again. With Ari looming in the background, he hadn't even remembered Suzanne. He and Kate had been having a much better start this time round, so much so that they'd already started to form a slowly growing bond between them. He had wanted to spare her from this, from what was coming.

"Tony, I know what I'm doing. I know I've made a couple of mistakes, but just like you and Gibbs, I also trust my instincts." Kate was frowning, angry and hurt. Sure, she trusted him, but she couldn't understand what had gotten into him; suddenly, in not-so-subtle ways hinting that perhaps their Jane Doe was not as innocent as she looked.

"Kate—"

"That's enough!" Kate snapped and when Tony opened his mouth again with a slightly wounded look shining through his eyes, she turned around and left, feeling guilty for snapping at him, but she didn't have time for this. She would apologize later.

Tony stared after her with sorrow. He wasn't startled when someone suddenly had their hand on his shoulder, the weight of it comforting. Without looking at Gibbs, he said bitterly, "I can't just go around telling people the real reason why they should or shouldn't do something, so all I can do is watch as she makes that same mistake again. It's really going to hurt her, boss... All I wanted was to spare her from a lifetime of guilt and trauma, but she's already way over her head and she just won't listen. I should've been faster. I should have made my move before we even saw that woman."

"Maybe she needs to go through it?" Gibbs suggested gently. "Didn't you say that some things can't be changed?"

"It's easier to alter than change things and the bigger the change, so much more difficult it is. It's like working against a current refusing to change its way... Doesn't make it any easier to just stand by and watch." Tony frowned. "This is going to be ugly."

Gibbs hummed and pulled the young man closer for a quick and awkward hug. With a pat on the back, he pulled away. "Let's get back to work."

"Maybe I should get straight to the problem, so that no one has to die." Like he's planning to do with Ari, even if at times a small part of him worried just how much that was going to change things, for better or for worse. There was no way to know.

Gibbs froze. "One of us?"

Tony hesitated, unsure if he should tell. He had also learned not too long ago the hard way that it was best to keep as many details to himself as possible. Especially after that one unfortunate event where someone died, all because of his a little too generous sharing of details. The person would've died anyway, but that had been like an extra push toward it. More like a shove. "No. Just a couple of bad guys." And a few injured agents and other personnel, and some damage to the building.

Gibbs wondered if he should make DiNozzo tell him more, but he had seen what happened the last time he did share too much. It had taken plenty of head-slaps to snap the young man out of his feelings of guilt and misery. And a few chosen words of how he couldn't have known, not even with all that he did know. "Then let's just see how the things go, and then we act accordingly."

"Sure thing, boss..." Tony agreed listlessly.

At first, it looked like he would succeed; Tony managed to get Brauer away from the woman, hoping that he could change the events that way. Unfortunately for them all, Suzanne had noticed something was off way before they could react, and now they had her backed to the corner in the bullpen. With that bomb in her hands once again, she had a wild look in her eyes. The agents had their weapons out, but one way or another, someone was going to die. They all knew it.

"Suzanne... Don't do it..." Kate looked a mixture of hurt and disbelief as she tried to reason with her new 'friend', or rather, someone she thought was a friend.

"Sorry, Kate," Suzanne whispered, and then she let go of the bomb. Without thinking about it, Tony lunged forward. Instead of reaching the woman, he was thrown back, not by the bomb, but by the strong mass of Gibbs, a heavy protective shield. By the time they were sitting up, they no longer saw Suzanne. The bomb had done its job once again. They stared at the flames. At least this time it had claimed only one life. Not that it would be much comfort for Kate, Tony knew.

It was later, when they were all outside, that Gibbs exploded himself. "What were you thinking!" He was finally starting to regain some of the color he had lost when he saw Tony moving forward and to certain death. If he hadn't noticed it...

"Obviously not much," Tony mumbled, staring at their partner, who was staring in the distance quietly. Kate hadn't said a word yet. He failed, unable to stop her from going through this again. Sure, she would never know, but it was enough that he knew.

Gibbs swore softly, seeing the barely hidden agony in Tony's eyes. "Tony..." Not caring that anyone could see them, he pulled Tony into a tight hug and just barely brushed the soft hair with his fingers, almost like he was unsure how to.

"I'm not the one who needs comfort right now," Tony muttered softly, but with a heavy sigh, he dropped his head against the comforting shoulder. He felt a soft breath against his head as Gibbs exhaled. It felt odd and warm.

"I told you before that maybe this was meant to happen. Don't dwell on it too much; won't do you any good. You did all you could."

"Could've done more."

"Tony..." Gibbs slapped the back of Tony's head, so softly that he almost missed it.

"I know, I know."

The men spent the next few minutes staring at their partner from the distance. The snow and the wind were freezing cold, but they barely even felt it. Kate probably didn't even notice it.

Kate sat on her couch. In her one hand there was a glass of wine and in the other one she had the remote control, which she kept abusing in numb anger and grief. Not even seeing the TV, she kept changing the channel every few minutes or less.

The scene kept playing in her head, and she closed her eyes as tears began to flow down her cheeks again. The guilt was eating her up. And she didn't think she could look her partners in the eyes again. How could she have been so blind, so stupid? Why did she constantly allow her emotions to overwrite the logic? Work had once again become personal, too personal, to see what had to have been there all along, right in front of her eyes. And maybe some of it had been about her pride, because she called herself a profiler. She wasn't sure, because as a profiler, she couldn't have been so dreadfully wrong.

Kate opened her eyes when someone knocked at the door. She really wasn't in the mood for company, so she decided to ignore it.

"Kate! Open the door!" It was Tony. Kate froze in confusion. She hadn't shared her address with anyone at work. "I know you're in there!"

Realizing that the lights from the windows must have given her away, Kate sighed wearily and stood up, walking slowly to the front door. With the wine glass still in her hand, she opened the door with a frown. "How did you..?"

Tony smirked. "I have my ways."

Kate shook her head. "What do you want?"

"I have something for you. Can I come in?"

Hesitating for a moment, she let him in. Following him back into the living room, she reclaimed her spot on the couch, while Tony took the chair.

"I'm sorry," she finally said quietly, when Tony didn't say anything, her voice cracking slightly. The TV was on mute, so he heard it..

"Kate, you didn't know—"

"Yes I did! You warned me! And I... I didn't listen... it's my fault. What kind of partner does it make me when I don't even give you a chance to explain? We need the trust for us to be able to work together properly, I know that, and yet..."

"So you knew she was going to kill herself and anyone close to her?"

Kate emptied her glass and reached toward the wine bottle to pour some more, and realized Tony had at some point taken it and was now studying the bottle with curiosity, filing the information away.

"Do you trust me?" Tony suddenly asked, and Kate flinched. Last time he asked that, she had thrown it back in his face by not trusting him and his gut feelings about Suzanne. Actually, she had trusted him, and yet, she chose to ignore it, in favor of a woman she didn't even know and who would have killed them all in cold blood.

"Yes," she answered sincerely. If there was one thing she knew she could trust her instincts to be right about, then it was this. It was time to prove it.

Tony nodded, with a faint smile on his lips. Leaving the wine bottle on the floor, he stood up and took the spot on the couch next to her. Taking a small bottle out of his pocket, he emptied it inside her empty glass. "It's called Dark Soul. A friend of mine created it. Tastes like literal crap, but trust me, it's worth it. You'll end up with a hangover, but you'll still thank me in the morning, I hope. Although, from my own personal experience, I can tell you that you won't want this again unless you really need it."

Kate looked at the drink with narrowed eyes. "You want me to drink this. You're not going to poison me or something?"

"Cross my heart. I'd never do that." He turned serious. "It allows you to sleep without dreams. You need that kind of rest now. Tomorrow you'll start the healing process, but not tonight."

She almost spat out the drink as soon as she tasted it, much like Tony's reaction had been when he tasted it for the first time. "What is this!? Sheesh..."

Tony smiled serenely. "Some alcohol mixture, with something. I don't want to know. I have the most horrible feeling that we're better off not knowing. My friend—Isaac—is good at making these. It's a dangerous skill, really. From this to his own versions of a truth serum. I swear, if he wants to join the dark side, we'll be in major trouble." He was not even joking, despite the relaxed way he presented it.

While Kate stared at the silent TV and forced down the rest of the crapcohol, she started feeling sleepy to the point she was unable to keep her eyes open. She almost fell on the floor, had Tony not pushed her back on the couch when she started to fall. "Tony..." It was almost like she was becoming one with the couch. Strange, but not exactly bad or scary.

"What?"

"'m sorry... Really." She was starting to slur, and knew she should feel frustrated by how it didn't even bother her. However, her ability to think was getting weaker and near impossible. For a split second, she panicked, but that feeling was soon replaced by trust. How easily it came. Really, the drink should have a second name: The ultimate trust.

Tony reached out his hand to pat her head awkwardly. As he moved to stand up, Kate spoke again. One word, as it felt easier to keep things as simple as possible. "Stay?" She didn't know what made her say that, but somehow she felt she needed some company, even if she would be too out of it for it to really even matter.

Tony sat back down. "Okay... I'll watch your six."

She slurred her thanks with closed eyes. She was already asleep by the time Tony answered, "No problem..." Tony rubbed his tired eyes and took the remote control and chose a channel with some movie on. It was going to be a long night for him...

The next morning, Kate felt much better. Her memories from the last day weren't as clear as they had been when she came home. They were still there, but not as vivid flashes. Even the feelings were slightly muted; still there, but not overpowering her entirely. While Tony wasn't there when she woke up, there was a glass of water and a bottle of painkillers on the coffee table, and some fresh coffee in the kitchen for her. She knew he had kept his promise and had watched her back. Next to the glass of water was a note saying that they would now be even and, 'No need to fret over this '.

While she was glad she didn't have to go to work with her hangover from hell and even think about work for a few days, she swore to take gut feelings from now on much more seriously...

Chapter Text

"My name... is Anthony DiNozzo. How is your... day?" Tony glared intensely as he focused. He would get it right this time. He frowned and fought against the urge to look down at the textbook on his desk. "I... I work for the NCIS... and I..." What was the word again? He also had a feeling that he'd used some words in the wrong context, and then there was the spelling, which he was pretty sure he got wrong more often than not. The irony... He could imagine what a laugh Ziva would get out of this situation. All those times when they had to correct her English... But at least he wasn't trying to become a master of anything in here. All he needed was to understand. So with a frustrated sigh, he started all over again. He had finished his work an hour ago and while at first he'd thought it a good idea to spend the time studying while he waited for the other two to be done, he now wished he hadn't so that his embarrassment would be his alone.

Kate glanced between her partner, her latest case-related paperwork, and her boss. She finally had to ask, "What is he doing?"

"Hebrew," Gibbs answered without looking up. It had surprised him when DiNozzo had one late evening joined him in the basement, and then told with a determined look on his face what he wanted to do, despite the fact that his time was already limited. Between their work and sniper lessons, adding some online studying class on the list, could not be good for anyone. Gibbs had a pretty strong feeling that there was even more on the list, which the young man had yet to tell him about.

"He's studying Hebrew? Why?"

"Ask him if you want to know," Gibbs muttered, and by now Kate had worked with the man long enough to know she would be asking for trouble if she kept asking about it.

Kate glanced at her struggling partner again, and while a part of her found it amusing, the other part scolded her. He had obviously started not too long ago, days maybe. One could hardly be expected to be on the master level from the get-go, and it was a little impressive that he was willing to even try. With his stubbornness, she had no doubt Tony would master it one way or another. Even if it took the rest of his life. He wasn't one of those people who gave up easily.

When Kate had stopped looking at him, Gibbs allowed a small smile on his lips, listening fondly as his Second struggled to form the words that his mouth was not used to. English, Italian and Spanish; while it was already more than impressive and enough to know those, Hebrew was an entirely different language. As he kept listening and sometimes glancing at the frustrated frown, Gibbs found a long-forgotten feeling fill his chest. It was that same feeling he had felt years ago when Kelly was learning how to speak her first big words or riding the bike. The proud smile that took over her precious little face when she got it right. Just like Tony. It was strange to compare a fully grown man to his little girl. Oddly, with Tony in question, it fit.

Tony chose that moment to have a look of triumph on his face as he managed to get an entire sentence right. He glanced around the room with a beaming smile, as if looking for cheers and 'attaboys'. When he returned his focus back on the book on his desk, Gibbs said it in his mind only. Attaboy, Tony. You're doing good.

After that dream he'd had of his family, Gibbs stopped feeling guilty over his feelings. Stopped trying to deny them. Even though he hadn't seen his girls in his dreams since then, he was finally finding the strength to let go, one step at a time. He was finally learning that letting go didn't mean forgetting or even betraying their memory. The only real problem now was that Gibbs had no idea what to do next. The sentimental voice in his head—which sounded strangely very much like Shannon's—kept telling him to 'just go for it' and share all the feelings, come what may. The father in him agreed, however, the 'second b' in him was telling that things were fine just the way they were. He and Tony; they didn't need any heart-to-heart talks. Neither one was comfortable with that. Of course, there was some truth on both sides, but that was the problem. Gibbs had no idea what to do.

Forgetting himself and his paperwork, Gibbs gazed at his SFA with a soft look in his eyes, forgetting that they weren't alone and that someone's curious eyes were all too happy to memorize everything.

Kate glanced between the two men. For once, she felt like she was beginning to understand something about these two men who had been impossible for her to understand, much to her chagrin. Well, Tony still was. But there was no denying the close relationship between those two, imperfect as it may have been. She could bet her next day off that it was closer than they were willing to acknowledge. Perhaps they never would... She wasn't sure yet if it was just a close friendship or maybe even something like a family, but she hoped she would find out.

Kate was surprised that the boss, who seemed to notice everything, hadn't noticed her staring at him. Instead, the man seemed to be lost in thought.

- FLASHBACK -

"Why Hebrew? You're already speaking three languages. That not good enough for you?" Tony's posture stiffened and Gibbs knew immediately he had said the wrong thing, or he'd said it the wrong way. There was an angry flare in the young man's eyes, but it was gone quickly and replaced by the cheeky grin. It always unsettled him how easily Tony was able to pull out any emotions, moods or even full personas without blinking an eye. Sometimes it worried Gibbs how it was affecting the young man's psyche. Especially when he couldn't even tell how often that double-edged skill was being used.

"I guess I just want to expand my set of skills, boss. It could come in handy someday. You'll never know."

"DiNo—" Gibbs sighed and put down the tools he'd been working with. Running his hand over the boat, which was yet to look like one, he chose his words carefully, "Tony. I didn't mean it like that. It's just... First sniper lessons and now this?"

"I have my reasons."

Gibbs found suddenly the faint layer of sawdust on the boat awfully fascinating. "Isaac knows those reasons?"

Tony hid his smile behind his hand as he scratched at his stubble. "No. Even the mighty Isaac doesn't know. I told you, I don't share everything with him. I thought we already put this behind our backs."

"Hmh..." Gibbs pursed his lips.

"Oh, come on, boss. My reasons... They... I just want to make sure I have more weapons for any given situation around my enemies, and why not friends too. Plus, it will look nice on my resume."

Gibbs was alarmed. "You're leaving?"

"What? No. Gibbs, I promise to not just take off without letting you know first, as long as I can help it, of course." The boss didn't look too happy with that explanation, and Tony found himself grimacing, and then ignoring the smile tugging at the corner of his lips only a moment later. The older man looked like a sulking teenager. It was such a bizarre look on him, but apparently Gibbs did bizarre quite well when he set his mind to it. "And no. I'm not leaving."

"Okay." Gibbs nodded as he relaxed.

"Okay?"

"Good."

Tony rolled his eyes. That obviously was as good as it was going to get, but that's Gibbs for you. As much as the older man could surprise you and come up with some big words when you didn't expect it, now wasn't one of those times. It was enough, though. It had to be. He could see the smile in the eyes, and in his own way, the old man was talking to him with his body language alone.

With a sigh, Tony leaned back on his chair and closed his eyes. Rubbing his forehead, he tried to force away the beginning of a headache.

"Had enough?" Gibbs asked.

"Taking a break before I end up with brain damage..."

"Go home. Get some rest."

"Really? I thought you didn't like me wandering outside on my own, while there are big bad bogeymen out there," Tony pointed out wryly, thinking about the yelling that happened, when Gibbs had found out just how much he wandered outside on his own.

Gibbs stared at his unfinished report, now regretting his 'daydreaming'. "I'm almost done."

Tony raised an eyebrow. He may have feigned ignorance, but he knew the boss hadn't written a word since they started on their reports. "I'll go stretch my legs for a bit then."

Kate waited once Tony was gone from the bullpen, and she asked, "So, what's the story of you two?" She knew Gibbs wouldn't tell her anything, but it was still worth a try.

"Kate..." Gibbs started with a warning tone.

"Are you best friends or what? The way you behave around or away from one another, can't be normal. Not that there's anything wrong with it, I just..."

"You just what, Agent Todd?" Gibbs snapped and Kate swallowed. She felt like she was poking at a sleeping bear, with a sharp stick.

"I'm curious. We're partners, and spend most of our time together, so we're almost like a work family of some sort. I'd just like to know. I wouldn't share it with others, if that's what you're worrying, but I do have eyes and I am a profiler. It's obvious and—" Kate smiled nervously at the angry look she got. "And you don't have to tell me anything. Like I said, I'm curious. I was only asking, not forcing you to tell."

Then Gibbs surprised her, shocked speechless. He rubbed his forehead in the same exact way Tony had done before and leaned back in his chair as he finally admitted, "We... I care about him."

Kate stared at him with wide, unbelieving eyes. She had been so sure Gibbs would not answer the question. Both Tony and Gibbs kept surprising her.

"We've had a connection since the beginning. If I'd ever had a son..." Gibbs' voice trailed off, but Kate knew what he wasn't saying. "That enough for you?"

Kate finally got his voice back, but it was small and weak. "Yeah. Thank you."

By the time Tony returned with coffee and half-empty water bottle, he could tell that something had occurred while he'd been gone, but since it didn't seem like something he had to worry about, he shrugged it off and set the generous mugs of coffee on his partners' desks. He got one grateful smile from Kate and the usual grunt and nod from Gibbs. Tony sat down and after staring at one ink stained spot on his desk, he decided that rolling his thumbs wasn't a good way to spend his time, but he didn't want to distract the others with his so-called Hebrew either. He had been learning for only a few days, and he could only hope he'd be much better by the time it mattered the most, if such a situation occurred. With these thoughts in his head, he took out his cellphone.

Playing games on his phone and looking like a kid playing with his toy, with his tongue sticking out when he concentrated really hard, Tony didn't notice the amused looks. He was distracting them again.

Chapter Text

- DREAM -

"Kate!"

He was late again. It didn't matter how many chances he was given, he failed each time. It never changed either; the rooftop, the laughter, the gunshot, the shock, and then that hole in her face. So much blood and brain tissue. It landed on him each and every time, in that same exact moment and same places, and all he could do was just stand there and keep staring at her body. Carving it even deeper into his memory. Burning it with fire. Making it permanent. A painful reminder of his failure.

Ari walked toward them with a smile. "You are never going to succeed. Give up or you'll join her. You will find yourself in the gutter."

Tony looked at him with desperation, unable to move or speak. What could he say anyway? It was the truth, and he knew it. Of course he knew it.

Gibbs wasn't looking at Ari. His eyes were on Tony. Disappointment. "You failed her."

There was no escape. He knew it when the scene flew away from him, and he was thrown back to the beginning.

"Kate!"

He was late again...

Tony had barely even taken a bite of his sandwich when, looking green, he pushed it away. Instead of eating, he spent his time doing the first thing that came to his mind, not that it helped. He rolled up a piece of paper and threw it in the trashcan farther away, rolled up another piece of paper and did it again, repeating that same motion over and over again, until he'd been doing it for almost half an hour. Paper, ball, aim and trashcan.

"What's wrong with him?" Kate voiced her concern uncertainly, her own half-eaten food forgotten.

Gibbs moved his eyes from Tony to her. Not answering the question, he spoke with a warning tone, which told her to drop it. "Eat your tofu, Kate."

Kate chewed on her bottom lip and observed her partner, who hadn't been mister sunshine since coming to work that morning. Tony wasn't exactly talkative either. Since he was still staying at Gibbs' place, she wondered if the boss knew something... Who was she kidding? He was Gibbs, and if there was anything she had learned, it was that Gibbs was all-knowing.

"Kate. Don't," Gibbs ordered, and she finally looked away. But just because she wasn't looking at Tony, didn't mean she wouldn't be thinking about him. If anything, her mind was full of him and what she should do about this situation, since as far as she could see, Gibbs wasn't going to do anything either.

Gibbs glanced at the abandoned sandwich on Tony's desk. For a moment he wondered if he should just send him to Abby, to get some rest since lately it seemed like he never slept; going to bed after Gibbs and even getting up before his boss, or so he claimed, whenever Gibbs asked him if he got any sleep that night. The dark circles under his eyes didn't exactly help his case either. Gibbs opened his mouth to say that the break was over, but Tony was faster; as suddenly as the paper ball game had started, just as suddenly it ended, and he went back to work. Shaking his head, Gibbs stood up. "I'll be with Ducky if you two find something."

Tony stopped his mechanic behavior for a moment, and he stared after Gibbs with narrowed eyes, knowing full well that going to see Ducky had nothing to do with the case. The case of Colonel William Ryan was barely closed, so for now they were all drowning in paperwork and cold cases.

The reason for his increasing restlessness was no mystery to him. In fact, it was pretty simple, and not just because of the all too obvious dreams. The time he'd been trying to not think about too much was finally here, which also meant that it was time to make some big decisions, and he was in the middle of mental arm wrestling between what he wanted and what was right. He hated to be put in this situation now more than ever. Just when he'd come to the point in his 'new life' where he had made his peace with the fact that he would forever be carrying two worlds in his head.

"Tony..." Kate started, but after one nasty look from Tony, she let it go with a shudder. Sometimes, Tony could give you a look that put Gibbs' own infamous glare to shame...

Tortured by his recent nightmares, Tony put all his focus into his work. Any distraction wasn't good, and seeing Kate's face didn't help when he always saw the bullet hole in her face, even when it wasn't there. It was like a ghostly reminder of where he stood and the unpleasant power he was now holding. It was the strangest thing to feel simultaneously powerful and powerless. Whatever he chose, it could destroy lives either way. Take Ari out of the picture too soon and it could mess up the entire house of cards. But could he truly trust that things wouldn't go even worse than in his dream if he just let things happen? It was a dilemma he hadn't even really thought about that much before, and now that he did, it was trying to eat up his entire brain capacity.

Wanting to distract her partner from whatever it was that had put him in this mood in the first place, Kate decided a little teasing wouldn't hurt. "So... Abby showed me her private collection." She frowned when Tony ignored her and kept typing.

Close by, Chris Pacci had observed the situation, and seeing the determined look on the woman's face, he grimaced. While her intentions probably were good, now was not the time. Unless you were someone like Gibbs and could handle Tony in his bad mood. Gibbs in his bad mood was expected and people were used to it, even if many weren't prepared to face it. Tony—if I could, I'd be friends with everyone—wasn't that simple. "Kate."

Kate kept talking, still hopeful that she could get Tony's attention. "She's got some interesting photos. One especially caught my eye. You. Leather pants. I heard that one has reached even the Hoover building."

Chris, feeling mad at himself for having taken the photo in the first place, delivered himself a head-slap. That was what finally got Tony's attention, and his mouth twisted into a small, amused smirk.

"What'd you do, spill Gibbs' coffee? Misplace files? Told Cassie to redo her report?"

"I wish," Chris answered with a smile devoid of any humor.

Tony frowned, and now fully focused on Chris, he quit typing. "That can't be good."

"Ancient history. Something I did, and I thought was in the past, but it's come back to bite me in the ass. In the form of a guilty conscience."

As Kate was wondering whether she should let it be or get her word in, Chris moved so she and Tony couldn't see each other, hoping that she got his silent message to back off. With a frown, she finally did.

"Can I help you with it?" Tony asked, his mind now full of flashing images of the day Chris died. It was one of the events he wanted to change, so he'd already offered his help whenever he knew team Pacci needed it, hoping that when it came down to the serious business, Chris would know it was all right to ask for his help.

Chris shook his head. "Doubt it. Unless you wish to shoot me for taking that infamous photo back then."

Tony smiled painfully. That picture had gotten him plenty of attention, and not all of it was desirable. "It wasn't you who decided to make all those copies and then spread them around to anyone wanting it... You never found your camera either, did you?"

"Gone for good," Chris said regretfully; it had been a good camera, his favorite. "We still going to Isaac's after work?"

"If the work doesn't stop me, yes."

"Good. You've been talking about that place for such a long time, it's about time you let me join. My expectations are high."

Tony chuckled. He was tempted to ask Isaac to make Chris one of his failed drinks, which the old man had made him test for him. For a genius, when Isaac did fail, he failed big and with style that was so very his own... Puking his guts out was nothing next to some of the things he'd had to taste. At least he'd learned fast to never accept free drinks from Isaac, but unfortunately as a friend and law enforcement, he felt rather obligated to take one for the rest of the mankind...

"I know that look, DiNozzo. You've got something on your mind, and I'm not going to like it."

"Relax. It won't kill ya." Then again, he liked Chris, so maybe he should save it for the people he didn't like or for revenge...

Listening to the men talk like old friends made Kate realize that as close as she and her team had finally become, there were still places she wasn't allowed. It made her sad as she'd come to realize she really liked her team, liked working with Tony. The man could come up with ideas like no one else and solving cases in a way no one else could.

"Kate."

"What?" she snapped, still a little hurt when she'd been ignored before. She looked up and saw that Chris was gone.

There was a strange look in Tony's eyes, one she couldn't identify. When he spoke, he sounded calm, but that look still gave her the chills. "Wet T-shirt, Kate. I know all about it. I've seen the pictures."

That was not what she'd been expecting to hear, and her eyes nearly bulged out as she squeaked, "What?"

"You heard me. And if I find you doing something stupid like... Oh, I don't know, like getting Abby to photoshop pictures of me for your own twisted amusement and then sharing it with people, without so much as even thinking what it could do to me both personally and professionally, I'll sue your ass off. Both of you."

Kate stared at Tony. Feelings of both confusion and anxiety were hanging over her. How did he know about the wet T-shirt? No, the biggest question was, what on earth was DiNozzo even talking about; why would they photoshop anything? Whatever it was, this was serious business, and she had no doubt in her mind that you did not burn Tony DiNozzo and not get yourself burned.

Tony rubbed his temples with a sigh. Maybe he'd been overreacting a little; he was more than a little on edge over the smallest things right now... "Sorry. This isn't the time to test or tease me. So don't."

"Got it... You know, if there's anything I could..."

"I'm serious. I really don't want to talk right now. So, unless it's work-related, don't talk to me."

Trying to not feel hurt or show that she did, Kate nodded. She was disappointed that he didn't feel like he could trust her enough to talk.

"Kate."

"What?"

As much as the ghostly bullet hole in her face was still mocking him, he forced a small, grateful smile on his face. He even crinkled his eyes just enough to make it look more genuine. "Thanks. I'll keep that in my mind if I do want to talk."

She smiled warmly, her countenance gentle as previous feelings of hurt were forgotten, unaware that it had been the intention all along. "Good."

Tony kept smiling until he was sure she wouldn't be suspicious. Smiling hurt. Moving his focus back to his work, he could hear in his mind the sound of a bullet hitting someone's head and the heavy sound of a body falling down. His tortured mind kept replaying his latest nightmare even when he was awake, the evidence of how deeply involved he was becoming and how big the responsibility was on his shoulders. Even if it wasn't his to bear, in his mind, he couldn't see it in any other way.

He was late again...

What if the dream was just a foreboding of what was to come, a sign that Kate was among his, 'sorry, but you can't change it,' category? Would he have to once again stand next to her body, feeling hopeless? The first time had been bad enough, and now the memories and dreams didn't let him move on. He wasn't sure what it would do to him if he had to go through that one again...

"I'm worried."

"Yes. I have noticed that our boy has been showing signs of depression lately... I hope you'll talk to Anthony, Jethro."

Gibbs glared. "Why me? I came here to ask if you knew something and if you'd talk to him. You know I'm no good with this talking business, Duck."

"Yes. I do know that, Jethro, but even you must admit the boy thinks highly of you and your opinion. Perhaps it would do good to remind him it's all right to be human and that showing weakness now and then does not mean he's weak. That, coming from you of all people, could make a world of difference."

"Ducky..."

"You know I am right. Once you have done a little reassuring, you'll tell him that you will be there for him if he wants to talk to someone. Do not bully him into talking to you, Jethro. If this is serious, it can do much more harm than good."

"Neither of us are good at this talking thing, Duck. Especially talking about feelings. I'm sure it would be much better coming from you," Gibbs tried again, hopefully, and Ducky glanced unimpressed at his friend over the body he was working on.

"Jethro... Why are you so scared of talking to Anthony?"

"Not scared," Gibbs denied with a rigid posture. Really, he wasn't.

Ducky shook his head with a sigh as he side-eyed his friend. "I will, of course, offer my listening ear and even a shoulder to lean on, if he is willing to let me in, but I'm afraid I still have a way to go before I have earned back his trust."

Gibbs flinched at the sharp tone and accusation in Ducky's voice, and felt guilty for causing that in the first place. "Duck..."

"I think he needs to know he has the full support from all of us. I'm not sure if you have noticed it, but as strong as Anthony is, there is also something vulnerable in him."

"He's not—"

"I'm not saying he's weak, Jethro. He is anything but weak, and he has more than proven it to all of us. But if I were you, right now I would treat him almost like porcelain, without making it obvious, or he will pick it up and shut you out. What I mean is, no growling and slapping his head."

This was starting to become such a headache and too much trouble to even think about. Gibbs wasn't pleased; to think that he came to see Ducky, hoping that the man would have a solution, or at least something to say that would take his mind off his worry. Where were those infamous long rambles when they were needed?

"Do not give me that look, Jethro. It will go fine. As long as you won't make him talk against his will, you can do it your own way. If no new cases show up, give your team a day off and spend the day together. Do something relaxing. Maybe watch one of his movies with him."

"We do that, and I'll be listening to movie quotes till my ears bleed," Gibbs complained. It was easy for Ducky to make it sound so easy, when in reality he would be the one suffering. "One time was enough for me." Endearing as it was to see Tony enjoying it.

"If I remember correctly, he let you choose the movie."

"Oh, come on, Ducky. Not that again..." Gibbs muttered with a small secret smile, which was gone as soon as Ducky looked at him with his own, knowing, smile.

Unfortunately, none of them ever got the chance to talk to Tony. As soon as Gibbs made it back to the bullpen, they got a new case that ate up all of their time, and for a while even Tony's nightmares left him alone.

Chapter Text

Gibbs sat on the hospital bed. His team—plus Abby and Ducky—was in the room with him, and he studied them silently. They were all quiet. He was pretty sure he knew what was going on inside the heads of Abby and Ducky, because they had known each other for so many years, and neither one was exactly a mystery he had to solve. He wasn't too sure what Kate's problem was. As for Tony...

Tony was leaning against the wall, his back toward the others in the room, so they couldn't see his face. Although he was seemingly looking outside the window, with the lights inside and the darkness outside, he couldn't see anything. Not that he would see anything even during the day, with his mind on this day and his actions, or rather lack of actions. He'd finally made the decision. The decision to do nothing and just pray and hope that he could count on his dream. Thankfully, everything went just like 'last time' and he knew he'd done the right thing, the only thing he could have done, but it didn't make him feel any better. Not with Gibbs already slipping into his Captain Ahab mode, ready to chase after his Moby Dick, without seeing anything else. Not when he knew how guilty Kate was feeling again for not having killed Ari when she had the chance. Not when Abby looked like a shadow of her usual self. Not when Gerald was afraid of his own shadow and Ducky... Ducky looked so old and tired.

"Go home and get some rest. All of you," Gibbs finally said. After a few murmured complaints from the exhausted people, they finally started leaving one by one. "Tony, wait."

Tony stopped at the door and turned around. "Boss?"

"I need to ask you something, and I need you to be honest with me. Can you do that?"

Chapter Text

They said, 'what doesn't kill you, makes you stronger.' That was hardly the case right now, if things were not about to change and soon.

As the days after the first meeting with Ari went by, Gibbs stubbornly refused to admit that sometimes he was wrong, and he really wasn't the all-knowing SOB, which he so proudly liked to be called as. That, in turn, had dire consequences on his SFA, who was a little too used to suffering alone through the worst of what the man could throw at him. Only this time he had in his head all the memories from his 'other life' and too much was just a little too much.

"Come on, man... I think you've had enough."

"Shu'up... don'noww me," Tony slurred. While his speech was getting harder to understand, it got even worse when he kept changing the language to any of the languages he knew, no matter the amount of that knowledge. When they were all mixed up together, and added to the usual drunken speech, there was no way to understand most of what he said, when he did speak. Mostly he preferred to stare at his glass, when he wasn't emptying it.

"Seriously. You're gonna end up with alcohol poisoning," Chris Pacci tried again as he shared concerned looks with Isaac over Tony's bent head.

"Ya'nnnow... I'nnnevver as'fo mu'h... Nevvvvrrrrr." Tony blinked owlishly and scowled. One moment he was raising the glass toward his mouth and next he was out like a light, head meeting the counter heavily and the now empty glass rolling on the table.

"All right then. That'll work too. Help me?" Chris looked at Isaac, and together they carried the man to Chris' car. Once Tony was safely inside, they leaned against the car with a sigh escaping both of their lips.

"What's going on?" Isaac finally asked what Tony had refused to answer, even with all the 'magic potions'. Clearly the kid's willpower was much stronger when he really wanted, or his tolerance had grown after tasting so many of those 'special potions' Isaac made him test out for him... The kid was a bit of a daredevil when it came to tasting almost any suspicious looking invention of his.

Chris snorted, an edge of bitterness so clear even before he said, "Might as well tell you, before you find out from someone else another version of it... There was this guy who got away. Gibbs has turned into a real bastard, and he's never been so mad at Tony before, as far as I know. People are talking that he's blaming Tony, but there's no way he could have done more than what he was already doing. If there's anyone who could have done more, then it's their other Agent."

Hearing finally the reason for his young friend's tormented eyes, Isaac's eyes flashed dangerously, but he didn't let his thoughts show up on his face until Chris was driving away. Only then did he scowl.

The next day, Gibbs found an envelope in his mailbox and inside it a big and rusty blade. No fingerprints or any other such things. While Isaac's threat to Gibbs was still valid, he gave the bastard a chance to fix things and redeem himself. For Tony's sake.

Waking up the next morning, Tony groaned at the pounding headache, which was in sync with his heartbeat. He tried to move, just his arm, and decided that not moving was, if not good, better. "Just kill me..."

"It can't be that bad." The voice belonged to Chris Pacci and Tony groaned again, seeing the man sitting next to his bed and looking amused.

"Please tell me you didn't have to drag my drunken ass to... Wherever I now am. Where am I?" Tony croaked.

"I did. You're at my place."

Tony groaned again. "I hope I didn't give you a hard time."

"Nope. You've been out like a light since we left the bar."

"Wonderful... Isaac must think I've really hit the bottom now."

"He's only worried, and so am I."

"I'm fine."

"Oh, sure you are." Chris stood up and walked to the windows, pulling the curtains away to reveal the bright morning sun.

Tony covered his eyes with his arm and uttered a shaky curse. "You're killing me..."

Chris chuckled. After bringing Tony a glass of water and a couple of painkillers, he resumed his seat. He saw Tony eyeing the small pills suspiciously. "They won't mess with you."

Tony wondered how Chris knew about that, since he'd been careful to not show up at work while high on the drugs that made his body betray him, but he wasn't going to ask the question now. Instead, he sat up very slowly and downed the pills and water.

"I'm really sorry you had to see me like that, and now this. Isaac called you, didn't he?"

Chris nodded and then crossed his arms over his chest. He made a great disapproving parent act. "We need to talk."

"Can't it wait till these start working?" Tony complained. The headache made him wish he could whack his head off, just until the pain was over, and hide it in a closet somewhere. Dark and soundproof closet...

"I could, but I know you. You'll talk yourself out of this, one way or another, so I'm sorry, but no. This is my best shot, and I'm taking it, so start talking. What's going on?"

Tony sighed and lay back down, covering his eyes from the bright light again. "Gibbs... I made the mistake and trusted he could be better this time. My bad, I guess."

"This time?"

"After everything we've been through together and what he knows about me. How we were getting closer and are supposed to trust each other. You'd think he would know better, but no, he'd much rather turn into his Ahab persona and destroy all the work we have done regarding our friendship." How easily Gibbs was willing to burn down and just generally destroy everything getting in his way; friendships be damned too. At least the ones he didn't deem important enough to protect.

"The word is out that he's blaming you for what happened with that guy."

Tony snorted softly and was brave enough to expose his eyes to the light again. Bad idea, but he could live with it. He could. Once the pills started working. "Oh yeah, at blaming he is really good at, always pointing fingers at anyone but himself, but being nice to those he claims to care about? He really sucks at it. Or maybe it really is just me... Yeah, I guess it's always been mostly me."

"Tony... Look, if you need some help or just someone to talk to, I'll be glad to help, but you still need to find other ways to deal with this."

"I'm not a drunk. I can count on one hand all the times I've gotten this drunk in my lifetime."

"I know you're not, or you'd be in a hospital by now... I'm more worried about alcohol poisoning, with the amount you kept drinking."

"I just wanted to feel numb for a while, that's all. To get small relief from the daily troubles that follow me even at home. And Isaac wouldn't give me his special potions himself, so I had to sweet-talk his workers when their boss wasn't looking."

Chris stood up. "Well, you better find another and healthier way. I've got some coffee in the kitchen and breakfast waiting for you. I need to go to work now."

Tony realized Chris would likely be late because of him. His level of guilt rose. "Man. I am so sorry."

"The only way you can prove to me you're really sorry, is to not let this happen again." Chris looked serious, and somehow Tony felt even guiltier. He hadn't thought he would bring trouble to anyone else when drinking on his day off.

"Yeah. You're right. I'm sorry..."

"I know you are." Chris sighed, and then he looked at the time.

"What are you working on?"

"Difficult case, but I'm sure I'll manage somehow." Chris smiled reassuringly when he saw the troubled look.

Tony felt cold chills running through him. He stood up so fast it made his head spin, and the pain blinded him for a moment, but he refused to let it beat him, even if he was probably looking a little cross-eyed for a moment. "You need any help?"

Chris was about to decline, but then he saw the hopeful and determined look on Tony's face. Maybe helping with the case would give him something else to think about. "If you think you can work with a hangover."

"I've had worse."

"Right..."

Putting on his best, 'I'm not about to die from the hangover from hell,' act, Tony refused to back off. If this case was the one that took Chris' life, then he had to do something, even if Chris wouldn't accept his help. He'd had enough of losing people and always feeling like it was somehow his fault. Logic could tell anything, but it didn't help with the way he felt after each time. The only shadow hanging over his shoulders, though, besides Gibbs, was worrying who else might end up dead or hurt. There was one clear pattern; either someone else died instead, or that same person died anyway. Of course, it didn't happen every time—that he knew—but still way too often to ignore. He hadn't paid much attention to it in the beginning, but the more it happened, the more he realized how dangerous it was to change things carelessly, especially when it was a matter of life and death. It was as if Death himself wasn't pleased, until he took what was his or the next best thing. "So tell me about this case."

"Well, it's like this..."

Tony knew that he could help with this case, and not just because of what he already knew of the case and Hamilton Voss—aka Amanda Reed—but by eliminating certain events, they would walk in unfamiliar territory, which meant anything could happen. If only Gibbs would understand and let him explain that it was even more dangerous with the case of Ari. Too many people were involved in that case. That he knew.

A few days later, both men had managed to fool the Death, one time each, and then there was Voss. Perhaps that's why Death got so mad at him... Tony wished he could say that he would've done something differently, but he couldn't.

"Voss. Let him go." With a gun in his sweaty hand, Chris wondered how he'd messed this up. They had solved the case, which was something he at one point hadn't even dared to hope for. It still baffled him how this woman had turned out to be a bad guy; literally a guy who now looked like a woman, so anyone could've been fooled, but he still blamed himself for not noticing anything sooner. One wrong move was all it took... He had looked away for just a moment. Not even looked, but just glanced.

Voss held the gun tighter against Tony's head and screeched, "He ruined everything! He wasn't supposed to know! How did he know!?"

Chris kept his calm, although he also wondered. "He's a cop, that's what they do, find out things."

While the two were exchanging pleasantries, Tony took his chances. In one move, he first pushed the hand holding the gun away, then he tried to disarm Voss. What he forgot was that while Voss may have looked like a woman now, he was still born a man, plus there was the previous training from his days as a Lieutenant Commander. Voss was much stronger than one would think.

"Tony!" Chris could only watch in horror as the young Agent and Voss ended up on the floor. There was a big struggle where Tony first tried to get the gun and then to get away. While they struggled, the gun went off.

"You all right?" Chris kept his eyes on Voss, who was still holding the gun and now stood up slowly, while Tony slowly backed away.

"I'm fine," came the patented reply.

Chris frowned, hoping that it wasn't anything too serious. His worries were forgotten when, faster than he could react, Voss moved a gun to his own head and pulled the trigger, not willing to be caught, no matter what. The moment it happened, however, the weapon flew on the floor. Tony had seen the desperation first turn into resignation and then determination, a certain kind of look he'd seen too many times before, and once again, he acted without hesitation.

"No..!" Voss screamed furiously. Tony held the struggling, but very much alive, Voss against the floor with his body weight. Holding out his other hand, he accepted the handcuffs from Chris and cuffed Voss none too gently. The knowledge of what would've happened, and the memory of them kissing before that knowledge, was all too raw in his mind right now. "Get off me!"

"Don't worry. You're not my type," Tony answered dryly, and Voss hissed at him. Even with that, Tony was glad he had not only saved Chris, but also kept Voss alive. Maybe it wasn't a case of life for a life this time.

"Let's get going then," Chris muttered. Having picked up the weapon from the floor, he helped Tony up, and together they dragged, still struggling, Voss to the car, leaving the terrified and curious onlookers at the bar to stare after them. Tony sat on the back seat with the resentful looking Voss and kept his eyes on him. He wasn't taking any chances.

Later, they saw the news of the bar they had taken Voss from. The entire building had collapsed, killing two people and injuring many. Apparently, there was something wrong with the foundation of the building. Tony felt nauseous and guilty. Although he didn't let the urge get hold of him—he wasn't going to become his parents—going to the bottle had felt all too tempting again. The relief over his victory of saving two lives, without any other human lives taken, had turned into bitter self-hatred that wouldn't be gone anytime soon.

The first thing Kate noticed the next morning was Tony's patched up forehead. "What happened?"

Looking up from the paper plane he was making, Tony smiled wryly. "I fell."

Chris snorted behind the woman, startling her. "Don't believe him. He was grazed by a bullet. Bull—as in bull—let."

"Thank you very much." Tony threw the plane at Chris, but it merely flew right past the man's shoulder, and Chris looked something between amused and irritated.

"Next time, don't hide a serious injury. Or don't get injured at all."

"It was a graze."

"I'm not talking about the graze, but all that blood you left on the back seat."

"Head wounds, Chris. Head wounds."

Bemused, Kate was about to ask more, like when had DiNozzo found the time to almost get killed, when they hadn't even worked on a case for a few days, but just as she opened her mouth, the elevator doors opened. The playful banter was gone in an instant when Gibbs entered the bullpen. It was like he was the bad energy or a black hole, sucking in everything positive, leaving behind only the heavy atmosphere.

Saying a quiet, "Good luck," Chris turned his back on Gibbs, who merely raised his eyebrow at the flash of anger he saw just a moment before Chris turned away from him.

Stepping on the paper plane on the floor, Gibbs picked it up and glared at his team. Seeing both his agents hard at work and not even looking up to greet their boss, Gibbs threw it in the trashcan next to his desk and sat down. Seeing DiNozzo with his patched up head, he frowned for a moment and almost started worrying, but then dismissed it quickly. He wasn't ready to forgive the man or to listen to his excuses. Like a stubborn old fool, he was blinded by his fury toward Ari. He didn't understand yet the damage this would leave behind.

Seeing a new email from Kate in his mailbox, Tony opened it, having no trouble at all making it look like he was still doing his work. With their boss, you could never be too careful. When he read the message, he almost rolled his eyes.

'Are you sure it's nothing serious and you're not lying to me about it?
I'm sure Gibbs would understand if you took a day off. Was it really just a graze? '

Tony held back his urge to respond with something especially witty and clever, but settled for only slightly sarcastic as he sent a response quickly, after making sure Gibbs wasn't paying any attention. Again, you could never be too careful.

'Sure, he'd understand. He'll kill me himself. Yes, I'm fine. It really was just a graze. I'll explain later.
Get back to work now. I have a feeling this is gonna hurt us both if 2nd B.F.B. catches us unawares.'

Unlike Tony, Kate didn't hold back her urge to roll her eyes, which, of course, didn't go unnoticed by Gibbs, who had kept an eye on them without making it obvious. Never knew when he'd catch them doing something they weren't supposed to. "Something wrong with your eyes, Kate?" Gibbs growled, startling Kate, who smiled nervously.

"Just something I read."

"Less talking and more working."

Kate frowned, but before she could get back to work or write Tony her reply, she received another email from him. She was almost afraid to read it under the watchful eyes of their boss, but somehow managed to cover up what she was doing.

'I'll be fine. Work hard. The bear has its ass on fire today.
Trust me. Follow my lead and we'll be fine. Maybe.'

She marveled at how he could look so normal while she was pretty sure Gibbs could see what they were doing from where he sat, even without looking at them. Praying for Gibbs to not notice anything, she sent one more response to Tony.

'I'm worrying, but it's your own fault. You're the one who hides or tries to hide the injuries from everyone.
If you say it's 'just a graze', I can't help but worry you're going to die while doing paperwork.'

Tony looked at Kate wearily, hoping she would just let it go for now. Gibbs would sooner or later find out about their little pen pal activities, and then all hell would break loose. He wasn't looking forward to that. At least she had bought his explanation about the conversation between him and Gibbs...

- FLASHBACK -

"Tony..." Kate was uncertain what the odd look on Tony's face meant. It was one she hadn't seen before, and then it was gone too soon for her to try to study it.

"How much did you hear?"

She hesitated to answer. "Everything."

"So? Was it worth it?"

"I'm sorry... No, really. I am," Kate added, when he snorted disbelievingly at her apology. "I guess I... I wanted to understand. You two have some big secrets, which you don't tell me about, and to a certain point, that's fine. I don't like it, but I can accept it. But now Gibbs is so... He's such a... He's never treated you like this before."

"Sure he has. You've just never been around to see it."

Kate frowned, confused. If this wasn't the first time, then why..? "Why are you still working with him then?"

"Loyalty?" Tony offered, but he knew that while it had been true in the 'past', now he had no such chains holding him back. While the chains were there again, this time they were there for a different reason.

"I'd say you're an idiot if that really is the case. No one deserves that kind of loyalty."

They sat down on the stairway, and it took Kate several attempts before she got her next question out. "What did you mean by your dream? Why is he blaming you? You did more than almost anyone else, right after Gibbs. Certainly way more than I did... If Gibbs wants to blame someone, then he should blame me."

Tony shrugged. "He's Gibbs. Our bastard of a boss. Although, to be honest, I'm not sure what to think when even he proudly calls himself that, like it's a badge of honor. Sometimes he acts like a dimwit, but those are his own parents he's dishonoring."

"I've never thought about it that way... But don't try to change the subject, DiNozzo."

"Wouldn't dream of it." Tony batted his eyelashes mockingly at her. Before he even knew what he would tell her, ironically, Gibbs' Rule 7 came to his mind: 'always be specific when you lie.' "All right. Before this happened, I had a dream... One of those scarily similar to what later ends up happening. Well, you know I was staying at Gibbs' place. He was around when I woke up from a nightmare, and I told him about the dream. Of course, no one else would think much about it, but now he has this idea in his head that I could have done something to stop the guy. Then there's also the fact that I have seen his picture once and have heard of him, but because the guy works for the people who wouldn't let us do anything about it, my hands are tied... People like the ones we work for. This is a special kind of need to know. Gibbs doesn't understand, or care, about the position I've been put in with this. He won't accept that I simply can't do anything. I want to, but I can't." Tony narrowed his eyes at her. "And this is the only time I will explain myself to you. That conversation was none of your business. I hear you so much as mention this to anyone, and you will find out I can be scarier than Gibbs. I've had plenty of practice."

Kate had a feeling that there was more than what he told her, but since he already explained more than he even had to, she decided to play it safe and drop it. It was enough that Gibbs was in a lousy mood. With a small shudder, she nodded. "What are you going to do now then?"

"Do my job. That's what I was hired for, Kate. To do my job. If Gibbs wants me to do more, he needs to find a new SFA."

"You wouldn't leave, would you..?"

Tony stood up. "Go home, Kate. Don't let work become all you are. Go watch a movie or go out with your friends or go on a date. Spend time with your family. Do something—anything—that has nothing to do with this damnable place."

"Tony..."

He walked away, knowing there was more she wanted to say, and maybe more he could've said too, but frankly, he was fed up. He was getting tired of 'dancing' around people and always worrying about what they think and feel. Had it not been for Ari and a few other things to come, he would've left the moment Gibbs so much as looked at him the wrong way.

And as much as he wanted to leave, he knew he couldn't do it. Not just yet. There was still too much at stake. So for a little while longer, he would allow himself to slip back into the Tony from his dream. He would use one of his numerous masks, do his work and live his life the way only he could, and tolerate Gibbs. But by the time he felt it safe enough to leave, he wouldn't hesitate this time. Because God help him if he did...

Chapter Text

James Palmer—Jimmy to his friends—had wondered what kind of people worked at the NCIS. Asking anyone questions about it hadn't really helped him either, as it seemed very few even knew what NCIS was. The only image he had somehow managed to form in his mind was that it was something like the FBI, but then on his first day alone, all the neat and institute-like images were gone.

The first thing that he had seen when he stepped inside the building was a goth, but he figured that she was probably someone's daughter, or maybe she was part of some case. He then later discovered that she was their lab goth called Abby. He thought he'd really seen it all by the time he finally met doctor Mallard.

While still a little uncertain how to be around the man, he was already starting to like doctor Mallard, or Ducky, as the man was called by most people. Even his endless stories and the way he talked to the dead, while odd indeed, were all so fascinating. As happy as Jimmy was that doctor Mallard had accepted him so quickly, seemingly without any reservations, it made him just a little wary at first. Especially with the way the old man was treating him like an old friend, instead of someone you just met. He didn't know much about the previous assistant, only that he had been injured and wasn't returning. Jimmy wondered whether the other assistant had also been accepted this easily.

And then there was that strange moment when he met doctor Mallard for the first time...

- FLASHBACK -

Entering the room, at first Ducky didn't notice the fidgety young man standing there, with slightly hunched shoulders and uncertain look on his face. He removed his coat with a sigh, wishing for the umpteenth time that his old friend would finally pull his head out of the land where no sun ever shineth. For all Jethro's faults and growling when he ought not, Ducky was used to the man being who he was, and he'd learned how to maneuver around most of it. But when the infamous bastard had made up his mind on something, he rarely—if ever—changed it.

"Um... Doctor Mallard..?"

Startled by the nervous and young voice, Ducky finally turned around and saw another person in the room with him. One who was alive, thank God. Even he wasn't prepared to see one of the corpses to one day start talking and moving around. The young man's round glasses made him look even more awkward. Still, looking at the kid, Ducky could tell he would like him. Gut feeling, as Jethro would say. "Ah. And you are..?"

"James Palmer. I... Uh... I am your..." the kid stuttered nervously. Ducky waited patiently and was finally rewarded when, after taking a deep breath, Palmer finally got it out, "I'm your new assistant, doctor Mallard."

Well, he'd guessed that much, Ducky mused with a small smile. "It's Ducky to you, James."

"R-right, doctor— Ducky. You can call me Jimmy."

Ducky's eyes widened with surprise as he remembered hearing Anthony mentioning that name before, many times, before the trust had been lost. His smile faltered for a moment, but then he smiled wider than before. The name had never been mentioned with any bitterness or hurt, unlike with almost all the other names from the 'dream'. Moving closer, Ducky took Palmer's hand in his hands and gently shook it. "It is my pleasure to finally meet you." Leaving a bemused Palmer to stare at him, he walked away. "Now, if you don't mind, we have work to do. Our guests can wait forever, but the living will not."

Jimmy looked up when the door opened and a man with piercing blue eyes entered the room. The gentle look in Ducky's eyes disappeared and Jimmy watched with amazement as the old doctor straightened up to his whole height and, by some miracle, maybe even more.

"Jethro." Ducky pursed his lips. He wanted to say so much and more, but with his new assistant eagerly listening while trying to not appear doing so, he wasn't about to get into a shouting match with Jethro.

"You got anything for me?" Gibbs asked, nodding at the body on one of the tables.

"If I had, I would have called you."

"Ducky..."

"I will call you," Ducky said and turned around, ignoring the Agent.

Gibbs glared at his back, but when it became clear that he wouldn't be getting anything else, he sighed, "What's wrong with you? Will you finally stop this?"

Ducky slammed an organ against the table with a loud smack and turned around. Jimmy flinched at the sound and silently retreated to the other end of the room, now trying to not listen to anything, which didn't work when both men raised their voices.

"You know perfectly well why I am mad at you, Jethro! You're doing the poor boy a great injustice and there is no telling what damage this will do to him, and to your relationship with him!"

"He's been coming to you? He got something against me, he better say it to my face!" Gibbs growled.

"Oh, I marvel what a big fool you have turned out to be, Jethro. You swore to me in this very room that you will do whatever it takes to get him to open up to you! To get him to trust you!" Ducky spat out the word 'trust' as if it had personally offended him. "I find it marvelous indeed that it happened only a couple of days before that madman entered our lives."

"He—"

"Do not even try to tell me that Anthony could have done more! You know it—if you are willing to admit—that this is far more complex than either one of us can even begin to imagine! Did you even allow him to explain? No, don't answer that; I know you."

Gibbs shook his head wordlessly. He turned around and left the room without another word.

"Jethro!" Ducky was furious, but instead of following after the man like he clearly wanted, he muttered something about him, with a very brutal choice of words, ending it with a harsh, "Coward."

Once it seemed like it was safe again, Jimmy returned to the body, which they'd been working on before Gibbs entered the room. "Um... Doctor Mallard..? Who—?"

"Not now, James," Ducky snapped.

"I'm sorry, doctor Mallard..."

Ducky sighed, and then he smiled tiredly. "I'm so sorry, my boy. That was not nice of me... It's Jethro I am mad at, not you."

"It's okay, doctor Mallard," Jimmy eagerly reassured. If anything, that other man had given off the vibe of 'in the wrong' and 'mean personality'. "I understand. And it's not my business to know what that was about. I promise I won't mention it again."

"Did I not tell you to call me Ducky?" Ducky smiled gently and Jimmy blushed.

"Sorry, doctor Ma— Ducky. It's hard to remember..."

"That's all right. I'll just keep reminding you until you get used to it."

They went back to work and while there was still a slight tension in the air, Ducky was back to his gentle self, which was a huge relief.

Later that week, Jimmy was alone at the morgue as he cleaned up after the work they had done on several bodies. Ducky had been called somewhere, so this was his chance to try to impress his new boss by making sure things were as clean as he could make them be. Even if there was always a big chance that even before he could enjoy the results, they'd get another body... With his earphones on and fully immersed scrubbing at one stubborn bloodstain, which refused to cooperate, Jimmy didn't notice when the door opened.

Tony entered the morgue hoping for some solace in Ducky, but when he saw Jimmy, he felt comforted. Walking closer, he touched Jimmy's shoulder. "Jimbo."

Horribly startled, Jimmy screamed, "Don't hurt me!"

Maybe it was because he was so tired and hadn't had any good reason to smile lately, or because it felt so good to see Palmer again; leaning heavily against the squeaky clean table, Tony started laughing.

Holding a hand over his heart, Jimmy removed the earphones and turned around. Slowly, the color returned to his face. His frantically beating heart took a little longer to stop trying to jump out of his chest. "No offense, but could you please not do that in here..? I know they're dead, but just the very thought..." Jimmy shuddered and Tony still laughed.

"I'm sorry... I didn't mean to scare you. Honest."

Shaking his head, as the embarrassment was finally settling in, Jimmy smiled. "It's fine... It was my fault that I didn't pay any attention to my surroundings. For all I know, I'll be murdered in here if I don't pay any attention."

The smile looked suddenly frozen on Tony's face. "Don't even joke about it. Especially not here."

"Sorry?"

Shaking his head, Tony held out his hand. "I'm Tony."

"Oh. Right. I saw you with Agent Gibbs. You're Agent DiNozzo." Jimmy took the hand in his, and they shook hands.

"Tony," he reminded Jimmy. "So, tell me, what's the movie?" At Jimmy's confusion, he smiled widely. "The movie that got you into the mindset of a horror movie."

"Oh, how did you know?"

Sitting on the floor, Tony listened fondly as Jimmy talked about the movie with wide gestures and expressions. However short the moment may have been, for a moment, the heaviness in his heart disappeared, and he allowed himself to relax.

Chapter Text

"Clear!" Their voices echoed through the house as they made sure it was secure.

"The whole place has been cleaned out, so I think it's safe to say that clear is pretty accurate. Looks like the only thing that was left behind is the dust," Tony jested when he joined Gibbs and Kate in the living room.

"You think? Say something I don't know," Gibbs grouched, and Tony barely hid his wince. The longer the case of Ari went on, the worse things became. "Do something productive for a change, and make sure he hasn't left anything behind."

"Boss, I swear I looked, and even triple checked every—"

"Do it, DiNozzo! Turn over the house if you have to, but get me some results! I want this bastard!"

"With all respect, Gibbs, you're not the only one who—"

"Today!"

Glaring daggers, Tony left the room, leaving an uncomfortable Kate standing in the room with their fuming boss. Since there was nothing else to throw, Gibbs threw his hat on the floor.

"Gibbs..." she finally said when Gibbs started knocking at the walls, hoping to find something.

"What?" he snapped, and she cringed.

"Were you lying to me?"

He stopped what he was doing, but instead of repeating himself, the look on his face screamed it with irritation. She hoped he would go back to speaking out loud, however unpleasant that was...

"I thought you said he's like a son to you, but the way you treat him lately... You've way nicer to some of those criminals we've been after. He's done nothing to deserve this. If you do this to Tony, then I should receive tenfold. I... I let him go, Gibbs. I could have killed him, but I didn't."

Gibbs stared at her silently. He never got the chance to say or do anything, because that's when they heard a loud crash. Running into the kitchen, they saw a hole in the floor. They couldn't see Tony at first, but then heard his breathless voice.

"So, you were right, boss. There is more to this house than what you'd think at first. But still, it's empty even down here."

"Tony... It's so you to find something like this. Isn't it?"

Tony coughed and then sneezed several times when some dust, and God only knew what else, tickled his nose and throat. There was something in his eyes too. "Ha-ha. Very funny, Kate. Would you mind..? I could use a hand or two."

The smile gone, Kate rushed to help him, but Gibbs was faster. Moving past her, he kneeled down and reached out his hand. Luckily, the hole wasn't too deep.

For a while, Tony only stared at the hand. He went through all the available options in his mind and, unsurprisingly, there wasn't many for him to choose from. He could try to get out on his own, but he had managed to at least twist his ankle; it really hurt. He could ask Kate to help him, but he was a little unsure how well she would do. No offense, Kate... He could let Gibbs help him, but then who knew if the bastard decided to drop him and then leave him to rot? Then there was always option number four; he could stay where he was and wait till—

"Just take the hand, DiNozzo!" Gibbs growled when his Agent kept staring at the hand with a deep frown on his face. He felt foolish for jumping into this so eagerly. Plus, his bad knee was starting to hurt. Looking from the hand to Gibbs, Tony looked suspicious, and Gibbs felt a strange aching at the sudden realization that he was being looked at as if his hand was attached to a bomb. As if to accept help meant he was to be punished.

"Boss, I think I'll—"

"Take the hand. We don't have a whole day," Gibbs said almost softly, but Tony figured that to be only his imagination.

"Actually... Never mind," Tony muttered, and stood up carefully. The moment he even tried to put some of his weight on the hurt foot, he nearly fell over, the pain being much worse than what he thought it would be. Gibbs wasted no time and as soon as Tony took hold of his hand, he pulled him up without any warning. Tony hadn't been prepared for the sudden movement, and a pained hiss left his mouth.

"DiNozzo?" Gibbs frowned and wondered at first if he had pulled too hard, but then he saw the way his Agent was careful with his foot. "Did you hurt yourself?" Gibbs moved closer, but Tony pulled his foot out of his reach, despite the pain such sudden movement caused him again. Looking at Kate, Tony was grateful when the woman got his silent and even desperate plea.

"I'll help him to the car, Gibbs," Kate said, and with her help, Tony managed to stand up on his good foot, although he was leaning heavily against her. Neither saw the pained look as they left Gibbs standing there, feeling useless.

"Thanks," Tony said to her quietly once she had helped him inside the car. With some painkillers, which Tony promised he'd take, he could wait for Kate and Gibbs to finish first and only then return to the Navy Yard. He wasn't doing good, but it wasn't that bad either.

Kate nodded and then pointed at her bag inside the car. "If you get hungry, I've got some food in there."

"Not tofu, is it..?" Tony's face twisted in distaste. As healthy as he had started to eat, despite the occasional pizza now and then, which was still too often probably, he'd never understand tofu. It couldn't possibly be meant for human consumption.

"No, not tofu, you pizza freak. I've got some fruits in there. I'm sure you'll like them."

"Yeah, yeah..." Tony waved his hand dismissively. "Thanks, Kate."

"Behave. I'll go see if Gibbs has started removing the floorboards yet... And please don't try to play the tough guy; if you start hurting too much, let us know. Or just let me know. I'll deal with Gibbs."

"Right. Good luck with that."

She glared. "I'll think of something."

With Kate gone, Tony had plenty of time and silence to think, and he hated it. He did feel a little hungry, but moving to reach toward the back was too much trouble. With the painkillers forgotten, he tried to find a somewhat comfortable position, and he sighed. The truth was that he had noticed the floor disappearing under his feet. It was just a second or two before he went down with it, but it was enough. He could have avoided falling down... It was rather telling that he was willing to get hurt, just to get away from his boss. Even if for a moment. Although he hadn't counted on twisting his ankle; maybe some cuts and bruises, few small breaks if he landed badly... Well, he got what he ordered, so he might just as well suck it up.

"What have you done to me, Gibbs?" he muttered softly.

As time went by, Tony had a strong and increasing feeling of being watched. He'd had the same feeling ever since leaving Gibbs' place, but this was the first time he had it while working on a case. Like all the other times before, he didn't see anyone or anything out of place, but he took out his trusted SIG. Only then could he relax again, or at least lie to himself that he wasn't so bothered by it.

"Does he hate me?" McGee whispered to Abby as Tony barely even acknowledged them.

It was a few days later, and they were all working on the case of Ari again, and now the man had Kate. It didn't make Gibbs any nicer to those around him, since one of his own had been taken. Tony, of course, knew how things would go—he hoped he did—but it didn't make him worry any less. Especially now that he wished he hadn't willingly let himself get hurt, or he could be out there, watching Gibbs' back. With him stuck here and Gibbs out there, some things were already changing. Almost anything could happen now... He was starting to go crazy with worry, and the constant whispering between McGee and Abby didn't help him relax one bit. Did they honestly think he couldn't hear them?

"I wouldn't worry about him. It's the Bossman we have to worry about if you don't have something for him soon," Abby answered.

Since in Abby's eyes Gibbs was the most special and loved of them all, and could do no wrong and basically shot rainbows out of his you-know-where, when the man went on the rampage, Abby had happily joined him. Her blind loyalty overrode simple logic. Meaning, if Gibbs didn't like DiNozzo, then neither did she. Not that she was straight-out letting it show, especially around the others, but Tony knew her well enough to be able to tell what her small changes in their 'friendship' meant. He wasn't surprised. In fact, he had been expecting it. So it didn't even hurt this time. Well, not as much as it used to in the 'past-future'. Instead, he gave her just as much as she gave him, which wasn't 'I'll punish you for your childish behavior ', but not rewarding her either. He knew better than to try either one of the two with her. If it didn't come from Gibbs, it wouldn't matter what he did. It would be a complete waste of his time and energy.

While the other two kept doing their loud whispering, Tony was sitting behind his desk and staring quietly at the flashing images of the computer, still trying to identify Ari. He knew it was only a matter of time now. With dread, he wondered how Gibbs was going to react this time, knowing for sure now that he had known Ari's identity all along. Oh, why did he have to mention the name to the old man before..? Such a moment of hopeful weakness was simply not acceptable. He should have known better.

Abby looked at Tony with a frown, wondering why he was acting like Gibbs. Did he think he would gain some good points in their eyes? Well, it was too late; he should have thought about it before Gibbs became all growly and scary. And now Kate was gone. If either one of the two got hurt, or, or... She couldn't even think about the worst possible scenario. The important thing was, if things turned nasty, she would never forgive Tony.

"I can feel you staring at me, Abby. What do you want?" Tony said calmly. What he really wanted to do was to adopt Gibbs' growling and snapping at everyone for a while, but if he did that, he'd be lucky to not get fired. After all, 'he was not Gibbs'. Thank God for that. It meant he was still able to see the tree from the forest.

Abby crossed her arms over her chest with a scowl that tried to be intimidating. "Look. Whatever you did or said to Bossman, apologize. We all have to suffer because of this, whatever it is that's going on between you two. So let go of your stupid pride and just give him what he wants. Please. It's destroying our family. It's hard to focus on doing my work when he keeps snapping even at me. Gibbs doesn't do that." In other words, 'Gibbs doesn't do that to me '. Only apparently he did. Well, that was different. Whether it was a good different, or bad, was unclear at the moment.

Tony finally looked away from the computer screen. Something in his eyes made her take a startled step back. Only the desk behind her stopped her from going any farther. McGee was still the new guy and not even working there yet, but even he could feel the ugly atmosphere and the sudden warning signals going off. "We're not a family, Abigail. Never were. We're just coworkers, barely even that, you and I. I don't know where you got the idea of a family from, but since when have we been anything like that? Maybe you and Gibbs are, but I've certainly got no room in that little world of yours, and that's fine by me. But if you for even one moment think that we're anything more..." Shaking his head, Tony stood up. He couldn't do this. Couldn't even look at her anymore.

"Tony... But I thought we're..." Abby sounded so hurt, but he ignored her doe-eyed look. It held no power over him anymore. He wouldn't let it.

"I'm going to see Ducky. You have anything new, Agent McGee, you call me. Other than that, don't bother me."

"Y-yes sir," McGee stuttered.

"And stop calling me sir."

"Yes si— Agent DiNozzo."

Once Tony was gone, McGee looked at Abby, who was frowning again. "Is it always like this?"

"Hm. What is?"

"DiNozzo. The people in here. The work. Agent Gibbs."

"No. Not at all. They are just having a bad day, that's all."

He didn't look convinced. "Okay."

Meanwhile, Tony entered the morgue, where he found Ducky and Jimmy working on some dissected bodies. With a flashback, he recognized them to be the ones that would eventually lead to a case Ducky had been part of. For a moment, he calculated his next move again, but then decided against it. It wouldn't do any good if he just gave out the answers without anyone having to work for it. Still, it made him feel a little guilty, just like always when he had the 'power' to do something, but chose not to.

"Anthony. You shouldn't be walking around; I told you to rest your foot. That running around you did today certainly didn't help"

"Sure, but it's much better already, so you can stop worrying... How's it going, Jimbo? The work getting mundane yet?"

Jimmy smiled uncertainly. It still baffled him how friendly Agent DiNozzo was with him. Not that he minded; it was nice. "I'm getting used to this. Even if this one is a little more bizarre than what I thought I'd be working on." He indicated at the piece of macabre puzzle in his hand. "At least it's not mundane."

"Ah. Good luck with that." Tony smirked and then sat down on a chair, when Ducky glared at him pointedly.

"Jethro still hasn't returned yet? Or called you?" Ducky finally asked. At Tony's slow head shake, he tutted. "That fool. When I get my hands on him..."

Glancing at Ducky's hands, Tony was tempted to give him his blessing for it, and secretly he was all for it. But he didn't want to be the cause for the two old friends to be forever walking circles around each other, when they didn't argue instead. "Ducky. It's fine. He made his choice, and now we just live with it. Let it go."

"Anthony..."

"Please. I really don't want to dwell on this more than I already do."

Ducky opened his mouth again, but Tony was saved by his phone ringing. It was McGee's excited voice telling him they finally knew the name of the mystery man, aka Ari Haswari. "I'll be right up... Stay in your pants, McGee. It's just a name. When Gibbs returns or calls us, he's going to want so much more than that. He wants to know everything; what he had for breakfast and what's his favorite color. Get back to work." Ending the call before McGee could say anything else, Tony sighed and counted to ten, slowly, before calling Gibbs.

By the time the case was over and done with—almost identical to how it went 'originally'—they all felt the weight of it on their shoulders, and needless to say, the way it ended left a bitter aftertaste. There was no joy in catching the bad guy when you were unable to do anything about it. Once again, Tony found it difficult to keep his mouth shut, wanting to blurt out everything he knew. Thankfully, Ari hadn't changed his plans this time, unfortunately for Marta, the woman whose body now was at the morgue. But much rather her than Kate, like it had been in Gibbs' nightmares and Tony's very real 'nightmares'. Of course, neither man knew about the other's nightmares about Kate and her death.

As he stood there looking at his white whale, Gibbs almost shook with rage. How could he let this man go? He'd love to put a bullet through the scumbag's brains. Instead, he had to tolerate that self-pleased look and have the man act like nothing could touch him. A true bastard who knew they were powerless. That he, Gibbs, was powerless. He was so deep in his angry thoughts and daydreaming about how to end this that he barely even listened to whatever nonsense came out of the man's mouth.

"If not pride then what? Love of country? Sense of duty? I'm sure they exist in you, but what burns is pride, my friend," Ari said with amusement. It was never a good sign when a bad guy said some words of truth.

Gibbs had to clench his teeth painfully as he looked at the man he'd been after for so long, the man who had made him forget the things that were much more important. Caused him to forget the young man who mattered much more than Ari Haswari ever could. Gibbs didn't dare to think what could have happened had Ari chosen to go after DiNozzo instead of Kate. It put fear in him and regret at the thought that if something worse would've happened, he would've had to live the rest of his life with the knowledge of how he had treated Tony before his death. What would Shannon do or tell him, if she were alive? He kept taking for granted the people he cared about and look where that got him, each and every time... What would the price have to be for him to finally learn his lesson?

Thanking silently whoever had looked after Tony, and all his people, Gibbs glared at Ari. It would be so easy to kill him now. So easy... Surely it would get rid of several problems at once. But as he remembered Tony's words to him, the hint of something and that there were reasons for why he'd allowed things to happen as they had, and another name he'd mentioned; Ziva David. Gibbs had, of course, looked it up, and when that didn't work, after calling in a favor, found her to be the daughter of the Mossad Director, Eli David. Unsavory type, the both of them, the man he'd contacted, warned him. Much as he hated to admit it, this clearly was bigger than his personal feud with Ari.

It was with the deepest regret when Gibbs shot Ari in the left shoulder. What he wanted was to do something much more permanent and painful. "Just wanted to help you convince Al-Qaeda," Gibbs sneered and left the room. Ari's laughter made it that much harder to keep walking, instead of turning around to put another bullet between the eyes, just like the man had done to the dead woman in the room. But he had another mission, well, two actually; first, he had to deal with Fornell, and then he had to find Tony. He had amends to make, but he was afraid to discover it may be already too late... God, he prayed he wasn't too late.

Making sure that his car doors were locked, Tony walked toward his apartment. His phone was ringing in his pocket again, but he ignored it. Gibbs had been calling him almost nonstop since they got Ari; he'd even been leaving him text messages! On another day, another situation and another life, Tony knew he would've just laughed at it and happily accepted whatever the man was going to say to him. Just as the ringing stopped, suddenly the feeling was there again, the feeling of being watched. This time, he knew there was someone standing in the darkness, somewhere near his apartment building. Tony pulled out his gun, hoping that it was just a cat or something equally embarrassing. Embarrassment rarely got people killed.

"I know you're in there!" He heard the familiar sound as a shot rang out. Barely moving out of the way, Tony returned the fire. A pained grunt and a heavy sound of a body falling down told him he hadn't missed his near blind shot. Carefully making his way to the fallen body and then quickly kicking the gun away from his attacker, he could see the man for the first time. "Teddy?" he wondered with some confusion, having almost forgotten all about the man, with Voltolini and everything else that'd been going on in his life.

"You... You ruined everything," the man whispered through his clenched teeth.

Tony crouched down. "By not letting you kill me?"

Teddy took a weak hold of his jacket and Tony leaned closer to hear his quiet words, "I... I had the perfect plan... He betrayed me... That bastard... He promised... He lied."

"Voltolini?" He'd enjoy pointing out that it was his own mistake of trusting a criminal like Voltolini, but Tony refrained.

"I thought... I could be one of them... But they're all mad... Thought I had 'im," Teddy whispered something more, sounding half-mad himself, but by then his words started to become unintelligible, and he lost his consciousness. The man looked nothing like he used to. He was pitiful. By the looks of it, he'd been homeless for some time. Even most of his real hair color had grown back. A redhead. Who knew.

Watching the dying man, Tony knew any ambulance or a doctor wouldn't get there in time. He almost called Gibbs out of habit, but then he hesitated; what good would it do anyway? And while he could call Kate, he didn't want to put her in an uncomfortable situation either, to stand between him and Gibbs. His mind made up, he finally knew who to call. The FBI was going to just love this, but maybe he could try to soften the blow... And hopefully Gibbs would never know. "Fornell..? Yes, I know what time it is, but I've got a little situation here..."

Chapter Text

Tony was honestly not sure why he was doing this. Sure, the man didn't deserve to live, after all the innocent blood he'd spilled without any visible sign of remorse. And yet, there he was, hating himself again because he couldn't stop being the bigger and most foolish man he knew. If he didn't have to kill them, he preferred not to. At least he hadn't grown to like this one, only to discover later his true nature and then end up having to kill him. He hated that type the most.

Jeffrey White... Knowing that he was most likely going to have to face that man again, made him really uncomfortable.

Pressing harder against the bleeding wound, Tony felt movement, and he looked down. The look in Teddy's pain-filled eyes was almost surprised, and then he stared curiously at the man above him, like he was trying to solve a mystery. Ignoring it, Tony looked away. For a moment, he thought he could hear the ambulance, but then realized it was only his mind playing tricks. It was cold, and his body was getting tired from the constant holding of his hands against the bleeding wound, turning them frozen and finally numb. His knees didn't like the kneeling position either. The smell of blood would've been nauseating, had he not been so used to it by now. Still, it was unpleasant.

"You... You know... It's fu-funny that... I would die like this," Teddy finally coughed out, pulling the other man back from his private musings.

"Save your breath," Tony muttered, and maybe it was a payback for putting him in this position, but he forced his stiff hands against the wound with maybe too much anger, causing the wounded to let out a pained moan, and he closed his eyes for a few seconds before opening them again. "Why is it funny?" despite what he'd said before, Tony finally asked. It wasn't that he cared what the man had to say, but it was better than waiting and listening to the sounds of a man dying.

It took a few shaky breaths before Teddy said, "Years ago when... coma... Bad case... Almost died... I think... It's funny the... kind of dreams you have some-sometimes... And they seem so... real." Of course it wasn't the same, but hearing the all too familiar description made Tony's insides turn cold. Teddy didn't notice his reaction, but then again, his life was literally bleeding out of him, while the wistful look in his eyes was growing more distant with each spoken word and breath he took. "I made a choice... Live my life as I want... No one..." he swore intensely. "No one telling me what to do... Do you think I would... another chance..?" At this, Teddy looked almost hopefully at his enemy, who would likely be the last thing he would see before Death would come to collect what was rightfully his.

Tony smiled tightly. "I think you already used that second chance. Time is up, Terence; I'm afraid you used up all that was given to you. Many don't get even that much."

"Haven't been... that name... long time..." Teddy smiled with an almost dreamy look on his face. His glazed eyes turned to look at Tony again. The smirk on his face was uncertain and if Tony cared to admit it, it may have looked even a bit scared. "I don't... I don't regret... Any of it... It's just... too much... Thought I'd gone... mad."

"Good for you," Tony muttered. When the dying man looked at him again, he knew it would be the last time. It was a miracle he had been able to keep up with his sorry tale for as long as he had.

"I... I... I don't want... to... die."

Tony never bothered to answer; he had nothing to say. He watched as, for only a split second, there was raw fear in the man's eyes. Then it was as if someone had turned off the lights and Teddy was gone. Just like that. Of course, it was then that Tony could finally hear the ambulance coming. He cast one last look at the dead before he backed away and sat down heavily on the ground; his pants were ruined anyway. Brushing his bloody hand over his forehead, he sighed tiredly and cursed Voltolini for not taking this one under his own name. It would've been more fitting had either he or one of his men done the job. "I hope that hell was worth it, Terence." While Tony didn't quite mourn for the death of a bad guy, he didn't rejoice either.

Tobias Fornell rolled his shoulders and stretched his aging bones. Old age certainly didn't come alone... And long working hours did him way more harm than good. Hearing the shower turned off, he poured coffee in the two waiting cups and carried them to his living room. Sitting down, he looked up just in time to see his young guest entering the room. With amusement, he saw the way his borrowed clothes looked on the usually so well-dressed young man. Unfit clothes were still better than the man's own blood covered clothes from before. "Say what you want about my clothes, it's much better now, DiNutso."

"Right... Thanks. At least your taste in clothes is better than Gibbs has, so that's something." Tony snorted and glanced longingly toward the cups of coffee, which he practically inhaled as soon as Tobias gave him his.

"It's still hot..." The warning came too late, and Tobias watched, half-amused and half-concerned, as Tony shot out a few pained curses when it burned his mouth.

"I'm fine," Tony said quickly when Tobias opened his mouth. It was too unnerving seeing such open concern. Almost as bad if it had been Gibbs. And this was Fornell.

"So... Are you ready to tell me what happened?"

"I already told you."

"I meant unofficially. Just between you and me— What?"

There was a funny look on Tony's face as he stared at the older Agent. He finally shook his head slowly at the question. "No... Nothing... Just that... Well, it's you."

Should he be offended? Tobias wondered. "Am I really so untrustworthy?"

"Well... I'm pretty sure Gibbs would sniff it out if I shared something with you, of all people, and leave him out."

That was too easy to picture. Tobias snorted into his coffee. "You could talk to both of us, or I can call him? It's only 3—No, wait, 4 AM? I'm sure he won't mind."

"If you take the first blow, sure, go ahead." After that, neither man made another comment about calling Gibbs, and they finished their coffee in silence. It was only after getting their refill that they broke the tired silence. Tired being the keyword, with an emphasis.

"Things haven't been great between us lately," Tony admitted. A part of him knew he would regret this later, if for no other reason then simply because he wasn't sharing your feelings type of person. Even less now than in the past.

"I've noticed. Never thought that would happen. Figured if anyone, then you'd be the one the old bastard would work hard to keep close." Tobias looked at Tony with a meaningful look, but the younger man looked away with a slight grimace.

"You'd be surprised."

"What happened?"

"Well, he came out of nowhere—"

"I meant with Gibbs."

"I know that. I was hoping you'd let it go."

"What happened?" Tobias asked again, almost gently this time, and Tony found himself feeling spooked because it was so not... Fornell. Then again, they hadn't exactly spent time together outside work; it was more of a thing between Gibbs and Fornell. And wasn't this such a strange situation, him acting like friends with a friend of Gibbs. But it could always be worse...

Rubbing his head slightly at the memory of Mike Franks, Tony sighed when he answered, "Captain Ahab. That's what happened. He sets his eye on one goal and forgets everything else, and God help anyone who gets in his way. I just happened to be the one in the way. As usual. I just never learn."

"Ari?"

"That'd be it. And I'm running out of forgiveness, but still I'm trying to make things work. Trying to do the right thing, even if I'm left alone feeling that way. I've always been too quick to forgive people, so I guess I only get what's natural to happen if I let people walk over me all the time. Can I really blame them if I myself allow them to learn that kind of behavior around me?"

"Tony..." Tony, not DiNutso. Again, spooky. Almost as spooky as that worried look on the older man's face. Whatever Tobias was going to say, he never did. Maybe it was something he saw on his guest's face or a gut feeling, but he smiled. "Jethro doesn't know or appreciate what he has. My offer still stands."

"Join the dark side? That'd be the day to see. I'll think about it..." Tony took a sip of his coffee, reaching for the cookies on the coffee table with his free hand. At Tobias' surprised look, he smiled tiredly. "Really. I will think about it. You did say it's a standing offer... So if it comes to it, it's good to know there's always a plan C."

"Why plan C?"

It felt like since forever since the last time when Tony flashed his cheeky smile, eyes sparkling with mischief. "You're not the only one with a standing offer."

Tobias scoffed, feeling a little annoyed, but there was amusement in his own eyes. "Well, in the meantime, don't let Jethro burn out all of your potential, or hold you back."

Meanwhile, the man in question—Gibbs—sat in his car, outside Tony's apartment, waiting for Tony to come home. The deep and worried frown on his face was the only visible sign of his inner turmoil.

Chapter Text

Focusing on the target, the only things allowed to enter his mind were the almost comforting weight of the gun in his hands, the target's vital points and keeping his breathing calm and steady. And if the target had the face of a certain blue-eyed Marine, then no one at the shooting range dared to utter a word about it. Watching as the last bullet pierced the groin area, Tony finally lowered his weapon and took a step back. If only Abby knew why he had asked for a copy of Gibbs' picture all those weeks ago... She would not be happy. Not with all the worshipping she did when it came to her beloved 'Bossman'. No one else could ever measure up, not even her friendships with other people.

It was rather worrisome; if Gibbs would ever start hating her, what would that do to her? Of course, it would never happen, but just the mere thought was unsettling. What about when Gibbs had to retire, or he died? Because not only was the job dangerous, he wasn't getting any younger either. She needed to start growing up soon, or she'd just again end up being that forty-year-old who was painfully immature and unable to see the straight line, which was the difference between right and wrong. And to think some people would call him the immature one...

"Same time tomorrow?"

Tony turned around to look at the man who spoke to him. As usual, the man looked wary of him whenever he came to unleash some of his hidden fury against his boss. But it was either this or keep everything locked away inside, until he would finally burst and do or say something really stupid. The other option was to hit the gym, but lately, for some reason, he never seemed to get his time alone in there. "If I have time after work," Tony answered, and after throwing the destroyed target in the trash, he left the shooting range.

As he saw the familiar car waiting for him outside, he almost escaped back inside. How long had this been going on now? A week, two? Gibbs had become like some kind of leech. And of course, the more Gibbs tried, the more he was pulling away. With the two of them so painfully stubborn, it was like watching some strange battle dance or a game they were playing; hide-and-seek, maybe. Since it was impossible to avoid walking past the car, Tony moved fast, hoping against hope that he would be left alone. It was all still too raw and painful. Fearing that he would reveal more than he should, he also knew he wasn't ready for that kind of talk. He'd done it before, and look where that got him. Gibbs had turned against him.

"DiNozzo!"

"Go home, Gibbs." Tony kept walking without looking back. It was the silence that got him. For a very short moment of foolish relief, he thought his boss finally got the message and left him alone. It lasted a few long steps and then, out of nowhere, Gibbs was standing there, holding his arm. Sneaky Marine. The bastard... The strong Marine grip didn't let him pull away, so he gave up after trying it few times.

"Tony—"

"I don't want to hear it. Didn't Isaac make it clear to you that outside the work, I have no wish to talk to you?"

Gibbs scowled. He and Isaac certainly didn't like each other and sending Isaac, of all people, as the messenger, was truly maddening. It should be him. He should be the one watching Tony's back. He should be the one Tony could turn to. It should be his place, standing there and bullying away anyone trying to harm his 'kid'. And yes, Gibbs was willing to fully admit it to himself why it hurt as much as it did to have this ever-widening gap between the two of them. He was scared that soon it would become too wide for him to close it. And now on top of it there was that unmovable force standing between them, making this moment a rare one, where it was finally just he and Tony. Deep down, Gibbs knew that had the roles been reversed, he wouldn't have had Isaac's self-control.

- FLASHBACK -

It was now day two, or night, seeing as it was already dark, and only the city lights kept the dark outside their bright and glowing halos.

Since he didn't succeed in getting Tony alone yesterday, Gibbs had decided to try his apartment one more time. However, as the hours went by and once again there was no sign of Tony coming home, he was starting to get more frustrated. Just where did DiNozzo spend his nights in these days if it wasn't at home? Somehow, he didn't think it was at some woman's place either.

He got his answer sooner than he thought he would...

Another car pulled next to him, but he didn't pay to it any attention. It was only when the driver walked toward the apartment building that Gibbs caught a glimpse of a dark complexion and... Was that furious glare meant for him? Shaking his head, Gibbs took another sip of his coffee. He knew he desperately needed some sleep after the last sleepless night and then the long days at work, but he couldn't even think about closing his eyes, in case he missed seeing Tony coming home.

Sometime later, the driver returned, this time carrying a bag with him. As the man walked closer, the streetlights illuminated his face. It was Isaac. What was he doing here? Gibbs frowned, but his frown was no match for Isaac's furious sneer. Despite his gut feeling not agreeing with it, Gibbs thought for a moment that the man was leaving without anything else happening. Instead, after throwing the bag inside his own car, Isaac walked to Gibbs' car, and then he stood there. Waiting. They had a short stare-down, and despite knowing that it might not be a good idea, Gibbs finally opened the door and stepped outside.

Standing as tall as he possibly could, Gibbs refused to feel threatened by the other alpha male. "What are you doing here?"

"What am I doing here? I should ask you that. You have no right to be here." Isaac was furious and clearly wanted to attack him, but was holding back. The threat of 'rusty blades' came to Gibbs' mind, but he refused to be intimidated.

"Where is he?" Gibbs asked instead. He had finally put two and two together; the absence of his Agent, Isaac showing up and then leaving with a bag full of something, maybe clothes.

"None of your business. It's because you act this way that he can't even come to his own home! Go home, Agent."

" He's at your place?" Gibbs was angry. Or maybe it was jealousy, but he chose to focus on the feelings of anger. Anger he could deal with. Jealousy? Not so much. He was a possessive bastard, but this went even beyond that.

"It's none of your business. You're not going to get unlimited second chances, Agent Gibbs. I've warned you. I swear, if the kid hadn't asked me not to, I would just bash your head into the pavement without a second thought. As it is now, I'm still really tempted, so do all of us a favor and don't show your face around here and don't look for him outside the work. The kid deserves a break and time to put himself back together. You've done enough harm. I see you anywhere near him outside work, I won't hold back anymore. I'm still strong enough to beat up one aging Marine if I have to, don't think I couldn't; I have my own reputation from my more youthful days."

Gibbs glared. He wasn't that old yet, and Isaac wasn't looking any younger either. And how dare he speak like that? The man didn't own Tony. How else was he supposed to fix things if he wasn't even allowed to be near his own Agent? The way Isaac kept calling Tony 'kid', like he was actually talking about his own child, really pissed Gibbs off even more. Tony was... He didn't dare to finish that sentence. Inwardly, he scoffed at his own cowardice. That 'kid' was his! His Agent, his friend and his family, if he dared to be bold enough to go that far, and if he would get another chance to prove it. It couldn't have been just he who had sensed the strong connection between them since day one. However fragile it now was, it still existed. He was sure of it.

"Go home," Isaac was saying again, and then he returned to his own car.

This time it was Gibbs who had to hold back his anger so that he wouldn't do anything stupid. Despite the mutual feelings of hatred between the two of them, he had to remember that, for some reason, Tony liked this man. It would do him no favors to forget that. Watching the car driving away, he could only think how Isaac was a man he would never grow to like. Sticking his nose where it didn't belong... Sure, he could listen and leave Tony alone, but in his gut Gibbs knew that if he did it now, before a word of apology, it might be soon too late...

Why hadn't he listened to Ducky? Why hadn't he listened to Tony, while the young man still spoke to him without this open resentment? At work, it was all cool professionalism, with no heart in it as it had been before, and, oh, how he missed that. It felt almost like someone had washed his eyes with soap and while it hurt, it made Gibbs see everything differently from the haze he had been in when he was hunting down Ari. The mist had finally cleared away, and now he saw the world around himself again. The truth wasn't a pretty thing to look at. The worst part was knowing that this was all on him. His own fault. This one he couldn't fix with a head-slap or with his 'second b'. There were no favors he could call in to fix this kind of mess. It was all on him. What was it that Tony had called him? Captain Ahab. He hadn't truly understood the comparison before, he'd ignored it, really. Admitting it would've meant admitting a whole bunch of other things. And indeed, he had followed after his white whale without a second thought, demanding the same and more from his 'crew'. All-consuming madness had taken control over him, and not for the first time either.

"I'm sorry. I know what I did was wrong. I made a mistake. I had no right to treat you and—No, to treat you that way. I should have listened to you. I'm sorry, and I will keep saying it if that's what it takes."

Tony glared and Gibbs finally let go of the arm. He felt almost hopeful when he didn't immediately run away from him, but of course, nothing worked out that easily. When Tony finally spoke, it wasn't with kind words, or a cheeky smile and sparkling green eyes with laughter in them, which Gibbs had started to miss so much. "I need to spend time away from you, Gibbs, but because we see each other at work every day, sometimes all day, it's not easy... I knew this time would come. I know you too well. Just because you are now ready to put the past behind you, I'm not. I need time to think, without anyone trying to influence me."

"You saying Isaac isn't doing that?" Gibbs muttered.

"I'm not staying with Isaac." Tony looked almost amused if it weren't for the remaining anger.

"Then where..?"

"It's my business, and I'd like to keep it that way. I am begging you, Gibbs; leave me alone, if you truly care about what I need. If I am ready to talk, I will come to you. Until then, let me be. I'm way too mad at you even now. We'll only end up hurting each other if we keep this up. And I think you need this just as much as I do. I don't think you truly realize the damage you've done."

The blue eyes softened and just like that, Gibbs finally got it. Well, maybe not everything, but enough, which was a start. He didn't like it, and God knew he was painfully stubborn. He hated to even think about leaving it all in the hands of someone else, while he would be left hanging out in the wind, just waiting for what would come next, waiting for the unknown and not knowing if it would even come to him, or if it was good or bad. To be honest, it scared him to lose control, to be so powerless. "Tony..." Reaching out his hand toward Tony's head, but seeing the flinch, Gibbs pulled it back. He felt hurt, but once again he knew that he had brought it on himself. Those angry and undeserved head-slaps during the chase of Ari surely didn't help either. "I understand... I'll stand back."

Tony was surprised, wondering if the man really meant that. He neither saw nor sensed any dishonesty, though, so he nodded. "Thank you."

"Just... Don't think too long. This goes against my nature, I'm sure you know that," Gibbs' weak attempt at humor fell flat as Tony simply nodded again and walked away unhesitating, leaving Gibbs struggling with himself. In his gut, he felt like he should follow Tony, but he had made a promise...

As full of resentment as Tony still was, he was also grateful. For once, Gibbs was actually the one giving in, but for how long? Only time would tell. Either way, this kind of thing didn't just happen every day, so it had thrown him completely off balance for a moment. He knew that in his 'past life' all this would've been fixed with a smile and maybe some bourbon in the basement. Or some backhanded apology from Gibbs, which most people wouldn't accept as an apology. And so that's why when things back then might have been seemingly fixed, it had been without fixing the foundation first. That's how it always was; he was always giving in and taking it for granted that Gibbs wouldn't start taking him for granted. The older man had always been taking for granted that the loyalty of his St. Bernard would never be broken, no matter what, and how he'd tested that loyalty... Tony knew he had been willingly ignorant, hoping that things would be good soon. 'Soon' never happened, though, and he had been too afraid to admit the truth to himself. Until he finally did, which had been the turning point of everything.

"I'm trying to bury the Loyal St. Bernard, boss..." Tony said out loud, not sure if his words were meant for the Gibbs in his dream or the Gibbs now. Just like Abby had to grow up, he knew that he too had to become truly his own man again. Not a servant to any man, because men failed you. Whether they meant to do it or not, they always did.

While unlocking his car door, Tony felt the sudden presence of someone behind him, but before he could react, there was pain and then the world around him went dark.

Chapter Text

He had a concussion. Again. He was pretty sure it wasn't the worst he's ever had or even close to it, but the keyword here was 'again'. He could already see the look on Ducky's face, and Isaac had threatened to take him to visit the man's mother if he got hurt too soon after the last time, which didn't sound so bad, but from the evil look on the man's face, Tony just knew the woman had to be either scary or... really scary. Scary old ladies brought many flashbacks involving his old nanny. She had been terrifying just as much as loving and caring. Where DiNozzo Senior had neither love nor parenting skills in him, she was a natural. After disowning his son, Senior had fired her and Tony never saw her again.

Tony shook away the depressing thoughts, mentally, since he didn't think his head would like it if he tried moving it around too much and too fast. Just opening his eyes was such a hard thing to do and when he finally did, he closed them fast and decided to never repeat that mistake again. The bright lights pointed straight at him were inhuman. He had been tied up to a chair, which in itself wasn't anything new, but it was so tight he could hardly feel his arms and legs. Someone had to be either really mad at him or wanted to make sure he didn't get away. Or both. Maybe Gibbs had changed his mind and decided to lock him up and scare him into submission. Listening closely, Tony heard a sound he soon identified as fans of some sort. It was then that he realized how hot it was. Had to be those cursed lights...

"I know you're awake. Open your eyes." The voice sounded familiar, but through the pounding in his head, it was hard to remember why. It came to him slowly, and Tony almost cursed his own stupidity for not having prepared for something like this. Of course, he should've known this might happen sooner or later. He'd known it from the moment Fred didn't get his way. And now Fred's partner was dead. Although Fornell had promised to keep the details of the death closed from those who didn't need to know—and Teddy's undercover mess helped—it was no surprise that Fred would still feel resentment. After all, Tony had refused to throw away his own life again because someone decided that he was useful for their dirty work.

"Fred. I thought we already went through this once? Or was it twice, thrice? I think this one should count." Tony forced his eyes open, just enough to see the other Agent. The man was pacing around the room with a deep frown on his face.

"Shut up."

"It's hard to remember. Maybe you could see if moving those lights away from my face would help? It's a little hot in here." Too hot. Those cursed lights... Tony was willing to bet they were extra bright, just for him.

"Shut up!" Fred stopped, and he shoved his gun against Tony's shoulder. "It's your fault, DiNozzo," Fred spat out, and Tony almost flinched when some of that spit landed on his face. What was it with people always pointing their accusing fingers at him?

"I have feelings too, you know, and they are hurt."

"Be quiet and let me think!" Fred started pacing again. He was looking nervous, and certainly not like some criminal mastermind. Fred and Teddy. What an odd pair of two idiots, who were neither good agents nor even all that great at being criminals. Well, not good enough to be on top of the food chain. No wonder they were so into each other. Well, Freddy was; he wasn't sure about Teddy.

"You don't have to do this, Fred. You can still walk away and no one has to know. Don't ruin your life." Had he not been tied up and in pain, Tony would've found it amusing how an FBI Agent had kidnapped him without a plan. Impulse actions could either work in his favor or then be his doom and gloom.

Fred gritted his teeth in anger. "Why couldn't you just do what you had to do? You're an Agent, it's your job to do what you've been told to do, not question it."

"It's not your place to decide what's my job and what isn't. I have my boss and others telling me when to jump or dance, you have yours. Besides, I could ask you the same question. Aren't you an FBI Agent? Is this something you should be doing?"

There was an odd look of realization on Fred's face. In that moment, Tony knew the man had made his decision, and in his gut he knew it wasn't a good one. Unless, by some miracle, Gibbs had decided to dismiss his request and followed him, there would be no one coming to save him. A part of Tony wished that Gibbs would be his usual bastard and do things his own way, but then the other part didn't want that either. He needed to know that for once in his life, Gibbs could actually stand back, instead of trying to bully his way through every obstacle. This was a test to see if there was even a small chance that the old dog could learn new tricks, or at least be willing to try.

"Fred..." Tony started, seeing the firm resolve settling on the Agent's previously conflicted face.

"All I needed was for you to do your job. Instead, you turned everyone against Terence. Now he's gone and everyone believes he was one of the bad guys. His own family thinks so." Fred held his gun without the uncertainty from before.

"Were you in love with him or something? Don't you have a life? A family? Friends?" Tony refused to show his panic. Not panic for himself, but if he was dead, then who else would be able to look after the people he cared about, when only he knew about those dangers waiting for them? What about those people only he had been able to save the first time, in the 'past'?

"Shut up. It's none of that, but someone like you wouldn't understand. A pretty boy with a rich daddy. Can you guess how many people there were at his funeral? Four. Four people. One of them was the priest, and one almost didn't even come. I'm sure he would still be alive if you had done something. I know it."

Tony barely kept his mouth shut. On the bright side, at least it wasn't the plague that would kill him. So perhaps his end would be quick and easy. He looked calmly into Fred's eyes, thankful that at least the man was blocking some of the bright lights pointed at him. For a moment, he thought he saw uncertainty flicker in the man's eyes again, but it was gone before he could be sure of it. "Goodbye, Agent DiNozzo," Fred said, and then he pulled the trigger. Tony felt something hit him, and then he was falling backward. As his head hit the floor and the darkness claimed him, his last thought was, 'not again...'

He wasn't dead, that much was sure, because the pain was still there. When he woke up again, Tony noticed he was lying down on his back, with something under his head like a pillow, and he was no longer tied up to the chair. The lights were still on, but not on him. It took a while for the room to stop spinning and settle down, so for a while, he didn't realize someone was talking to him.

"Anthony, I am so sorry... I did not want you to get hurt." The voice sounded worried. Once Tony saw the man kneeling above him, he sat up fast; only the still moving room stopped him from doing anything rash. He was pushed down when he started tilting sideways.

"Take your hands off me," Tony muttered, and wondered how long he had been out. He shuddered at the thought of being unconscious with this man around. Voltolini of all people.

"That is no way to talk to someone who just saved your life." Angelo looked disapproving, like a father who was scolding his son. That thought sent almost a violent shudder through Tony, and he only felt worse when the old man took off his long coat to cover him with it. It was long and black. Somehow, it brought pictures of vampires in his head.

"My life?" Tony frowned, and turning his head, he noticed for the first time the body of Fred. With his eyes open and lying in a pool of his own blood, the FBI Agent looked like something that had been tossed aside as if he was nothing more than a piece of garbage. Despite the man's actions, it sent a sharp pain of regret through Tony, and he looked away.

"I barely made it here in time and shot him before he could kill you. Unfortunately, he fell on you and knocked you down. I apologize; I promise to be more careful next time."

"Next time?" Tony narrowed his eyes as he suddenly realized why he had felt someone following him around lately, and why Voltolini had seemingly left him alone.

Angelo smiled patiently and when he spoke it was like he was explaining something to a child. "Of course. How else do I make sure you are safe? It turns out it truly is a full-time job. Unfortunately, today my men were caught by surprise by that FBI Agent and I had to track you down myself. Do not worry. They have been punished and replaced."

"What?" Tony didn't like the sound of that, even if the men probably deserved whatever they got, just for working for a man like Voltolini.

The old man looked unhappy. Almost angry. "They did not fail only once, but twice. We almost lost you to Teo, but thankfully you got him first. Not that I would expect anything less from you."

Tony almost shuddered again. It was one thing when Gibbs was proud of him, but he did not want to be on this man's good side. Not like this. "I won't say thank you."

Angelo didn't look disappointed, quite the contrary; he smiled. "I was not expecting it. Now, stay still while we wait for my men. They will do the cleanup while I am taking you to a doctor."

"What? No!" Tony protested, and sat up again. This time, he managed to stay that way.

"I did not ask. You are hurt, and I want to make sure there is nothing more serious." Angelo looked stern. If it wasn't the words and the look on the man's face, then it was the gun still being held by Voltolini, which stopped any unplanned actions. Tony stopped speaking and instead focused on making his escape plan. For all he knew, 'doctor' could be a code name for something else. He didn't want to stick around to find out.

When the old man showed no signs of stopping his creepy staring, Tony finally snapped at him, "Stop that."

"My apologies." Despite his apology, Angelo didn't stop, and he didn't look sorry. "You and I have much more in common than you think, Anthony. And it is not that you look like my brother, which you do. I knew it almost from the moment you came inside my home for the first time. You had that look in your eyes, that air around you. You have the potential for things far greater than wasting it on people who do not deserve it. I was like you once; similar background, loss of many people I cared about and lost dreams, loneliness of a young boy. Betrayals. Even our fathers were much the same way. I can help you. Help you cope and move on with your life, before it eats you away like some disease."

Tony snorted. "You? Like me? I highly doubt that." He hoped.

"I had a feeling you would say that..." Angelo took out a picture. Without even seeing it, Tony knew it was the picture of Gasparo. "I know you are confused, and I know there is something you are trying to do, whatever that may be. I do not know, and I do not truly care. But I know enough to tell you that the more you fight against fate, the more it will change you. You need to give up. Stop fighting it and let me help you. You are looking for answers and I can give them to you. And if not, I can find them for you."

Let me guess, my fate is to do whatever you want, was what Tony couldn't help but hear from what the man wasn't saying. "You don't know anything."

"Anthony..."

"You don't know anything about me." Pushing away the helping hand, Tony stood up. "I am sorry that you lost your brother, I truly am, but I am not him or you. I never will be. Whether you admit it or not, but I know you see him in me. But he is dead and I'm not. You need to stop this or everyone will start thinking you've lost your mind. I don't care what you have planned. I'm sure you can't afford people to start thinking you have gone crazy. Am I wrong?"

There was a dangerous look in Voltolini's eyes, but then his men finally arrived, and the conversation ended there.

Hours later, Tony finally returned home, his home, because no way was he going back to Chris' place now that he knew for sure he was being followed. He couldn't risk anything happening to Chris, or that somehow his friend would figure out what was going on, and then he'd have to explain the people following him. Or any other questions he couldn't answer. Thankfully the doctor had indeed been just a doctor and nothing else, and he did indeed have a concussion, but by the time Voltolini was about to shove him inside his fancy car and take him to his mansion, so he could 'take care of him', Tony managed to escape and even made it safely back home. It gave him satisfaction knowing that he still got it. Even against someone like Angelo Voltolini.

Feeling paranoid, Tony did a throughout search in his entire apartment, looking for anything suspicious, like some hidden cameras spying on him. Thankfully he didn't find anything, but it did little to calm him down, which was why he ended up sitting in the living room, holding a full bottle of bourbon, which was supposed to be a gift for Gibbs before things went sour between them. After a while, Tony picked up his phone and stared at the number of his boss on the screen. He needed... No, he wanted to talk to Gibbs. Maybe get drunk and then talk about things he never would when he was sober; liquid courage or stupidity. Things weren't right between them, but he didn't want to burden Isaac or Ducky with this either, or anyone else for that matter. And the less they knew, the safer it was for them... He'd already spoken too much for his own good. And now there was Voltolini with his odd words and... Tony didn't know what to think. Maybe it was a trap... Somehow, it all seemed a little too convenient.

Almost as soon as he put it away, the phone started ringing. It was Gibbs. It was always Gibbs. Tony rolled his eyes at the man for breaking his promise. Although, to be fair, it could be about work. Feeling almost grateful that the man was calling, Tony answered the phone, "What?" For a long time, silence was the only answer, and so he almost hung up. "Gibbs?"

"Are you... Are you all right?"

"What kind of question is that?"

"Gut feeling. Wouldn't leave me alone... Can't sleep, so I had to call you. I'm... sorry."

Of course it was a gut feeling... When Tony spoke, the tone of his voice was almost gentle. He wasn't in a forgiving mood per se, but he felt almost sorry for the older man. Gibbs and his gut feelings... It must have been driving him crazy to not do anything about it. "Yeah. I'm fi... I'm okay. Get some sleep, boss."

"Hmh..." Gibbs sounded like he wanted to say something else, but he only sighed with relief clear in his voice, and then he hung up.

After the phone call, Gibbs could finally get some sleep. Tony, however, spent the night watching his movies, without really watching anything. Too afraid of his dreams, he couldn't sleep. At least the call from Gibbs had calmed him down enough, so the bottle of bourbon remained unopened. Rule 39; 'there is no such thing as coincidence '. He had to do something. He could disappear and start a new life. No Voltolini. No Gibbs. Maybe even no more flashbacks and crazy dreams... Tony felt the memory hit him again and knew that he could run away, but he'd never be free.

Kate. That bloody hole in her face. Blood. Too late. He was always too late. He was trapped... Between past and present. Dreams and memories. He had no way out.

Picking up the bottle of bourbon, he threw it on the floor, breaking the bottle into pieces and spilling the alcohol all over the floor. Then he finally let go, and before he knew what or how it happened, he was crying quietly, just a few tears rolling down his cheeks. He was just so... tired and frustrated. So tired.

Chapter Text

Going to Morrow had not been his plan, since he'd figured it was enough that he called Fornell and told the man what happened to their missing Agent. Although Fred's body had so far not been found—most likely never would—thankfully, Tobias took him seriously. Especially after he mentioned the name Voltolini. He didn't tell the whole truth of why Fred had been with him in the first place, but he had a strong feeling Fornell had been able to read between the lines anyway.

It was two days ago when Tony saw his 'bodyguards' for the first time. It happened while he was working on a crime scene and since then it seemed like he saw them everywhere, even if he tried not to. It was a case of 'can't be unseen'. It would only be a matter of time before the word got out, and he didn't want to leave that as yet another unpleasant surprise for his Director to find out. If the Director had been either Jenny or Vance, he most likely wouldn't have told them anything; both of them having proved more than enough not to be the kind of people who could be trusted with something like this on a good day, let alone on a bad day.

And that was the reason why he had come to work early, and on a day when he knew the Director would be in earlier than usual.

"Sit down." Tom Morrow nodded at the chair when his Agent entered the office. The young man seemed to be debating something with himself before he finally sat down. He waited patiently when DiNozzo was clearly unsure what to say at first, until he finally let out a resigned sigh.

"I guess there is no easy way to say this. Before I say anything else, I have it under control for now, somehow... But I think you should know, in case that's no longer the case or someone else finds out and misunderstands the situation, or decides to use that information for their own gain." Tony rubbed his forehead, the remaining effects of the concussion still there, and finally looked his Director in the eye. "Voltolini has his men following me."

"What?" Tom sat straighter, any lingering thoughts of his work now forgotten.

"From what I understand, they're there to protect me. What I think they're really there for? My guess is they are there to keep an eye on me... Thankfully they're not easy to see, but sooner or later someone more observant is going to start noticing."

"Agent DiNozzo..." Tom sounded weary, and he felt ancient. He already had his hands full, with Gibbs as his Agent, who had enemies popping out left and right, all complementing his sweet personality and past misdeeds, which Tom really didn't even want to know about, because it also meant that he as the Director had to always be explaining things away and clean up whatever mess the old inconsiderate bastard left behind, without a second thought that it wasn't just his own ass in the line of fire. He was the old dog who was never going to learn any new tricks, let alone be house-trained in this lifetime... And now this. Not that he could exactly blame his young Agent, unless it turned out DiNozzo had somehow done it all on purpose, but he didn't believe that to be the case. Maybe he should, just in case, write a note somewhere that Agent DiNozzo simply had the worst luck ever. Thank God, the kid more than made up for it with how much he gave in return, which also probably had something to do with any of the trouble that did follow him.

"I know, I know... Unless you think I'm not worth all the trouble, we need to figure out what to do about this, and then what to say if someone starts asking questions." Tony had a strained smile on his face. No, he most certainly was not doing this on purpose, much less enjoying the situation.

Tapping his finger against his knee, Tom nodded, inwardly frowning at the flippant tone of voice as his Agent had called himself 'trouble'. If anything, he would be the one in trouble if they lost another good Agent. Especially one who not only was good, didn't have a 'second b' to his name... And his boss was Gibbs. "All right. Tell me more..."

Kate finished typing her report, and she glanced around the silent bullpen. She was the only one of their team in there; for how long and since when, she didn't know. Both Gibbs and Tony had been almost uncharacteristically quiet for a few days now, and it seemed that the two men had done yet another one of their disappearing acts. Apparently, it wasn't just their boss who was good at sneaking around unnoticed. One of these days, she was going to find out how they did it. Even Abby didn't know.

Abby... Kate hardly even recognized the woman she had befriended since day one. Maybe there was an actual reason behind that childishly mean behavior? Not acceptable, but a reason nevertheless... From the moment Gibbs had become hostile toward Tony, it was as if Abby had never been friends with Tony in the first place. If this was how she treated her friends when Gibbs wasn't treating them right, then Kate wasn't sure she wanted to be friends with someone who could so casually toss them away without a second thought... Kate shook her head and wondered if her words had made any difference with Gibbs. Did he not care at all that he was destroying his relationship with Tony? It was so frustrating trying to mend things between two painfully stubborn and mulish men. Gibbs was scary as usual, and Tony was far too skillful at directing the conversation toward something else. Whenever she tried to bring up the situation, Tony would keep deflecting until she forgot what she was supposed to be doing. It was so... maddening!

Covering a yawn behind her hand, Kate turned off her computer and decided to go look for her partners. Just in case. Although it was already late and there were only few other agents still working, Tony's and Gibbs' things were still there, so they couldn't be too far. She hoped it wasn't a bad sign and prayed that the men hadn't sneaked away to finally kill each other.

She didn't find Gibbs, and when she found Tony, she was grateful to find him at the gym alone. With the way his shirt was clinging to his sweaty skin, the man had clearly been there for quite some time already. The punching bag was taking an angry beating, and she winced when she saw a quick glimpse of his horribly red and bruised knuckles. Ducky would probably have something to say about that.

"Kate, don't," Tony said when she moved closer. He had his back toward her, but she knew all too well that the men on this team seemed to be having a second pair of eyes on their backs. Not to mention all those times when they seemed to know everything, even when they hadn't been around to make that possible...

"It's much better with a sparring partner."

Halting his angry movements for a moment, he finally looked at her, using the break to wipe off sweat from his face. There was still some lingering fire in his eyes, so one could only wonder just how burning hot it must have been when he started this. After drinking some water, he shook his head. "I'd rather not, Kate. Sparring against a woman when I'm like this... It's kind of... Well, you know."

Kate narrowed her eyes, feeling irritated at the mere suggestion that because of her gender, he would refuse to use her as his sparring partner. Sure, she may be of the weaker gender, but she hadn't been protecting the President without knowing how to go against men much bigger than her. "Watch it, DiNozzo. You've clearly already used most of your strength and energy. I'm also much stronger than I look."

"That's not what I... Kate..." Tony watched helplessly as she took off her jacket, tossed it on the floor and joined him, just daring him to back down. Despite what he'd said, Tony put away the water bottle and walked closer. "You can't seriously think I will agree to do this. At least go change your clothes before—" he barely finished saying that when she made her first move.

For the next ten minutes, there was nothing but fast movements and occasional grunts as they put all their focus into their sparring. It was almost like watching them performing a perfectly choreographed dance together, which was why Kate became angry, and she made a sudden move toward his feet, which he moved out of her reach just in time. "Stop holding back!"

"I'm..." Tony dodged her grabby hand. "I'm not holding back!"

"Then stop deflecting and attack me!"

Tony frowned, and without thinking, he went for her feet. Only a moment later, looking down at her, he was amused. "Are we still talking about my sparring skills?"

Kate was lying there, gasping for breath, and then covered her face with her hand and muttered something.

"What?" Tony frowned.

"Come closer." She waited until Tony leaned closer, and then she struck him with a surprise attack. Tony let out a surprised yelp and found himself on his back next to Kate. They remained quiet for several seconds, just focusing on calming down after the fight.

"That wasn't fair, Katie."

"Doesn't matter. You're down, Tonio."

"So are you." Tony glared at her and playfully punched her on the shoulder, receiving one in return. They spend several minutes just lying there and staring at the ceiling.

"Have you calmed down?" Kate finally asked.

"Have you?"

"I asked you first."

"What are you, five?"

"Old enough to know I asked you first."

It probably had something to do with how tired they were, but they glanced at each other and started laughing. Or maybe they simply needed a reason to laugh, so almost anything would do. There hadn't been too many happy moments for any of them lately. Ari Haswari... How much trouble could one man bring with his mere existence.

Kate finally got some words out between her tired chuckling, "I'm glad no one was here to see us acting like a couple of kids."

"We're not looking like badass agents right now, are we? But..." Tony lowered his voice dramatically. "You know what the difference is between you and me? I make this look good." He snickered.

"Oh, you wish. I'm... Wait. Did you just quote..?"

"Men in Black. Don't know where that came from." Tony glanced at her nervously and cursed himself for letting that one slip. He'd thought he had by now trained himself to keep his movie quotes at a bare minimum while at work. So far, he'd been doing just fine, even if he had more than once—per day—wished he could share his daily dose of quotes and references... Some things he really missed from his old life... When he looked at her, to his surprise, she only stared at him with curiosity, not annoyed, or like she wished he would just shut his mouth, or like she was about to do it for him. It was a strange feeling...

Tony winced suddenly as he moved. "Hey, Kate..."

"What?"

"I don't think I can get up... Or move."

"What, why?"

"That last move you made... I'm not sure what you pulled there, but my butt-cheek is cramping."

Kate stared at him and rose up on her elbows, trying to see if he was joking. "Are you serious?"

"Deadly."

She started snickering and fell back down. "Only you."

"It's not funny."

"Of course it is."

Tony scowled at her and then cursed as another painful cramp hit him. "Just remember that payback is a mean bitch."

"You wouldn't dare."

"Don't count on it..." Tony warned, and they started bickering again, completely unaware when their boss finally left the room, with a wistful look on his face.

Gibbs had been hiding in the shadows ever since Tony first got really into beating that innocent punching bag. It was good to know that at least his agents seemed to be getting along well... But it was also yet another slap in his face, with another reminder of what he had lost. Did he dare to even hope for things to get anywhere near back to normal..?

Leaving the Navy Yard half an hour later, Gibbs' gut suddenly gave that unwelcome familiar feeling, when he saw a man standing next to a car farther away and staring at the entrance of the building. There was nothing out of the ordinary and the man certainly wasn't the only person around, but Gibbs hadn't been a sniper for nothing. With a thoughtful frown on his face, Gibbs kept driving his car for several blocks before he finally turned around in the middle of the oncoming traffic. As he was sitting in his parked car, he could just barely see the man and his car. It took Gibbs almost an hour of waiting, but he could be patient when he was willing to be, and so he was finally rewarded when he saw the man suddenly looking at someone leaving the Navy Yard. It was with a sick feeling in his gut when Gibbs finally saw who had the man's unsettling attention. "Tony..."

Chapter Text

Opening the door to her hotel room, she made sure no one was following her and that the door was locked after her. Then she did a quick check in the room to make sure it was secure, which was more out of habit than anything else. However, no one could fault her for being a little cautious. This was not the best time of her life, and certainly not worth mentioning to the people back home. No one else needed to know about her misfortune when it came to this mission never working out the way it should. It was humiliating enough as it was, without others knowing.

After dropping the first aid kit—which she had 'borrowed' from someone's car—on the bed that was closest, she closed her eyes for a moment and waited for the dizziness to pass before opening them again. As tough as she was, she had to bite her lip when she let her coat fall carelessly on the floor. She then started carefully peeling away her blood-soaked shirt. It was a good thing indeed that she was dressed in all black, or that foolish man down at the hotel reception might have given her even more attention than he already had.

Anthony DiNozzo. The Junior. She was really starting to hate that name after each new failure. Her father would certainly not be pleased with her if he ever found out. After all, how hard could it be to remove one spike in the flesh? Or was it a thorn..? She was never too sure which was the correct one. It didn't matter. The fact was, that she was getting increasingly angrier. There had been all those big plans, but as long as the man was around, their plans were not going to work out the way they'd intended.

One small bug, but such a big problem...

It should have been an easy thing to do. How hard was it killing one man? A former cop no less, not some super spy. Certainly not someone as highly trained as she was. If only the Agent didn't have his bodyguards following him everywhere, this would have been an easy bake.

- FLASHBACK -

When she first decided that eliminating the threat was the way to go, she had, of course, known there was always a chance DiNozzo had already told Gibbs about her. It was more than likely, really, given how close those two seemed to be. What Agent Gibbs saw in the former Detective, was a mystery. Since the old man had not yet seen her face, she could still make at least parts of the original plan work by changing her name and maybe even alter her appearance a little, but of course for all that to work out, a certain meddling young Agent would have to be gone. Permanently. An accidental death felt somehow fitting.

And that is why she was now looking up and over her shoulder every once in a while as she kept working on the car. Foolish man kept his car where she could so easily get to it.

Later, she would paint the following into a much more graceful and honorable picture than what it was. After all, how could someone with her level of skills and training be caught so... What was the saying again? Red-handed. Although why the hand was red, she had no idea. None of that was of any importance, however; not while there was a gun barrel digging painfully against her back.

"What do we have here?" It was a man's voice. Heavily accented.

"Get up," another man's voice said from somewhere on her left.

Narrowing her eyes dangerously, she slowly got up from her knees and held her hands up as a sign of surrender, which was ridiculous, and she could barely contain her sneer of amusement at how foolish these two were. But then she could hardly fault them for not knowing who Ziva David was. Too bad, it would be much too late for them to know anything by the time she was done with them. Pretending to play by their rules, she slowly turned around to finally see the intruders. Seeing them, she once again could barely contain her amusement. They had their weapons, but with one look, she knew that they were not trained to take down someone trained to kill by any means possible. And kill she would. One of the men was even a little on the heavier side. This would be too easy.

"Well, would you look at that? Think we could play with her before we kill her?" the second man said gleefully. The chubby one. She could barely hold herself back from jumping at them right then. As if she would let this swine even touch her with his small finger.

The first man looked annoyed and growled lowly something in Italian, which shut up his partner. "Now, before we kill you, missy. What were you doing to the young master's car?"

Ziva didn't let her surprise show at the 'young master' bit, but after thinking about it for a while, she figured that being a rich kid, DiNozzo had hired these goons to protect his weak behind. Pathetic.

"Hey! I asked you a question, missy!" the man snarled and using that moment for her own gain, she made her move; surprising the closest man—the swine—Ziva went for his neck. His death was too fast for her liking, but it would have to do. The other man, who kept calling her 'missy' with that degrading tone of voice, fired his weapon, but that only served to make her angrier. It took two of her daggers before he finally died.

Holding her bleeding shoulder, Ziva winced. Thankfully, it was only a flesh wound, but thanks to the commotion, someone might have heard or even seen, so she couldn't stay there. Glancing at the car, she felt regret for not having had the chance to finish what she started. Picking up her daggers, she fled from the scene, unaware that someone would soon show up to do the cleanup, so no one would be any wiser of what had gone down there that night.

Then there was this night. She had actually made it so far as to the Agent's door, when she was jumped before she could even break her way inside the apartment. The men were different, but they looked like they were connected to the others. It seemed that this time she had been expected, and she had barely made it out alive, killing only one, but hopefully at least wounding the other.

Stitching up the knife wound, Ziva took another sip from the bottle of vodka. It was the only bottle of alcohol she had been able to find in her haste, and before the loss of blood became too much. She grimaced at the burning feel from both in her wound and throat. While the alcohol dulled her senses some, it also made cleaning and then closing the wound that much harder. When she was finally done, she simply fell down in bed and sighed as she tried to think about her next move, but sleep was already claiming her. Sleep or unconsciousness; either way she was getting some rest.

Just because DiNozzo refused to die, it didn't mean he couldn't be killed. She simply needed to plan more. Clearly, impulse actions were not enough... But she had her training and heritage, which someone of his level could only dream of. It should be easy. It would be easy. She had to push aside her private feelings for a while and only let them out again when she was finally killing this pain called DiNozzo. And she would enjoy every moment of it and pay back every failure tenfold. A child's play. It would be like taking a sweet from a baby. By the time she was done, Anthony DiNozzo would not know what hit him, she would take her position on team Gibbs, and she would make her father proud.

Pleased with herself and her new plans, Ziva closed her eyes.

Chapter Text

Anyone who knew Gibbs would be painfully aware that he wasn't someone who willingly agreed to let things be, or even compromise, when he wanted to do things his way. The last time anyone had been able to bend his will that much, it had been Shannon and Kelly, who had him wrapped around her little finger since the day she was born. With them gone, there hadn't been anyone who could handle him. Some tried, and some even thought they had succeeded, but when there wasn't his own will involved, nothing worked if he had made up his stubborn mind. Until now.

Who would've thought that the day would come when he would want to be on someone's good side again?

Other than Shannon, he hadn't even bothered trying to be a better person for his other three wives. Although to be fair, they had known what kind of man they married, but for some reason they seemed to think that they could either live with it or change him. Shannon never had to do any of that; he had become a better man just for having her in his life and wanting to be the kind of man she deserved. And it did help whenever she was giving him one of her looks of silent disapproval, which would make even the hardened Marine lose. And when Kelly was born, he wanted to be a father his daughter could look up to.

So now, when he once more wanted to be the kind of man someone could look up to, he had become his own worst enemy. He never would've thought there would come a day when he would become mad at the 'second b' in his name, and right now he wasn't too proud of it either. Not that it was something he would ever admit out loud. However, everything in him was telling him to start doing something, to not just stand back and let someone else direct the show and take the leading role. The alpha male in him was far too willing to start growling and marking his territory as soon as he even suspected someone else had so much as sniffed at what he saw as his. When had his willpower become so... weak? And what about patience; when had he lost it? He was a sniper, and a sniper without willpower or patience was hardly any good. If the people from his former Marine days saw him now, they probably wouldn't recognize him...

While Tony was coming to terms with his choices and then also struggling with what he should be doing, Gibbs also made up his mind; he had made a promise and as much as everything in him screamed that he needed to do something, because he was Gibbs 'the second b' through and through, his gut feelings were screaming back just as loud. He couldn't break that promise.

But he wasn't getting any younger, and he could only bend his own will so much.

"Jethro!"

Tobias Fornell was used to seeing his pain in the backside friend doing things that gave him a headache—and a stomachache—but he was still astonished when the other Agent stopped a car in front of their meeting place, and he saw that the man wasn't alone. Tobias tried to not look too nervous when he glanced over his shoulder at the FBI building, before putting on his most stern look. What was the 'second b' going to put him through this time..?

With the amused half-smile, Gibbs clearly wasn't impressed. "Tobias." Gibbs nodded and pushed his prisoner toward Tobias, who stumbled a few steps back when the heavy mass of a much bigger man nearly pushed him down. The big guy had a dazed look in his bloodshot eyes.

"What's this? Who is he?"

"Present."

"A what?"

"He's one of your most wanted men, isn't he?"

"What?" Tobias frowned and when he finally realized just who he was cradling in his arms, his eyes widened comically as he hissed, "Jethro..."

"Don't tell me you don't recognize him."

"Well, it's hard to recognize anyone who looks like a car has just hit and run over him," Tobias said sourly, glaring at Gibbs since words made no difference. Of course, Gibbs didn't say anything, only showed that irritating half-smirk of his, looking smug like he had the right. Really, one of these days he was going to stop answering his phone when the bastard called... "Do I even want to know how you got your hands on him?"

The smirk finally disappeared. "He and his buddies have been following my Agent."

Fornell kept himself from reacting, but only barely. Even from what little he had found out from DiNutso himself, he wasn't surprised. He could only hope Gibbs didn't notice that he was hiding something from him. Jealous Gibbs was amusing, but also scary when you were the target of that jealous rage. Something else the man had said caught his attention. "So where are those buddies? Did they get away?"

Gibbs didn't say anything, but the small dark smile on his face sent a shudder through Tobias.

- FLASHBACK -

After day three, Gibbs had his confirmation; it was no longer a question of whether Voltolini had his men following Tony. Each day, the people were different, but the way they looked and behaved, there was no doubt. Gut feelings helped too.

What both bothered him, and amused at the same time, was the fact that Tony obviously knew he was being followed. Every once in a while, the young man would wave his hand toward the men almost too gleefully. One time, he even went straight to the car and took their mugs of coffee through the open windows. Having seen that, Gibbs knew they were given to him during one of his coffee withdrawals. Had he not known better, Gibbs would've almost thought that his Agent was fine with being followed around by the devil's henchmen. Gibbs could only hope he himself hadn't yet been busted for what he was doing. Once again, it hurt to know he hadn't been told about this, and he had a bad feeling this had been going on for a while now.

Sitting in his car that night and feeling more patient than he had been in a very long time, Gibbs didn't even have to track down anyone now that he knew what to look for. They were always there, always, watching and waiting for something, and for the last couple of days so had he. He'd made a promise to leave Tony alone outside the work, but he made no such promise about anyone who was a danger to his Agent. Plus, he couldn't just sit still when he could do something.

Observing and waiting for a while, he was finally rewarded when one of the men left the car and started walking toward where Gibbs knew was a place open with half-decent coffee. Well, much less than decent... He grimaced at the taste of the brown water, which they dared to call coffee, in his mouth, and he put it aside to be thrown away later. Looking at the time, which was a little past midnight, Gibbs opened his car door quietly and slipped into the shadows, following after the man. Few careful moves later, and almost getting beat up himself, Gibbs was back in the car, with an unconscious and handcuffed man on the back seat. It didn't take too long for the second man to go out looking for his little friend, which was a pretty accurate description when he looked so big it was a miracle he had even fit into that car of theirs. Needless to say, Gibbs had to be much more creative capturing that one. After receiving a punch in his gut and one on his shoulder, by some miracle, he captured the giant.

Some time later, Gibbs sat on an old rickety chair in an abandoned old house, which was going to be demolished the next day. He had secured his prisoners inside one of the rooms and was waiting for them to wake up. When they did, he smiled frighteningly. "I have a message for the old man."

The big man spat at him and started yelling something in Italian. Looking at him struggling and trying to pull himself free, Gibbs was glad he took special care to make sure the giant couldn't get free. For a while anyway.

"Are you going to kill us?" the smaller man finally asked. His partner laughed mockingly.

"He is a cop. He can do nothing. He is bound by his law. Whatever they say, he will do."

Gibbs hummed softly. "Not going to kill you. Although you might wish I did." The two men stared at him as if he was nothing but a bug in their eyes, which they very much wished to step on. Gibbs was all too happy to destroy that delusion.

Holding out his gun and NCIS badge, he made sure they could see them as he stood up and put them away on the small table in the room. He wouldn't be an Agent while doing this, and he wanted them to know it. This was personal. Naturally, Gibbs had been tempted to 'remove' the problem as he had done with the man who took his wife and child from him, but that wouldn't remove the real problem. Also, Tony was alive. "One of you will go back to your master with a message, but first... there are a few questions I need to ask. Things like, what does Voltolini want."

"What are you going to do? You will have no answers out of us," the big guy snarled.

Gibbs smirked. "I was hoping you would ask... I'm going to interrogate you. I've been told I can be very... persuasive." The men glared at him and he scoffed. "Don't tell me you haven't realized it yet. There are no other people present, you are tied up nice and tight, and I'm already not in a very good mood. It will be my word against two known criminals. One who is known for being a liar, and the other is wanted for violent murders all over the country. By the time I'm done with you two, you will never want me to interrogate you again." He studied the men for a moment. The big man would be harder to break, but if he could break him first, it would be a job half-done with the other one. "Not going to say anything? All right... Let's begin then."

When the silence and quirked eyebrow were the only answer he was going to get, Tobias sighed. "Jethro... No, wait," he backtracked. "I don't think I even want to know. Actually, I do not want to know. Don't you dare tell me."

"Wasn't gonna tell you."

Tobias glared, and he tried to get better hold of his half-conscious prisoner. He was pretty sure he had some blood on him now. "And how am I supposed to explain this? Him. Or the fact that he looks half-dead?"

Gibbs shrugged and was already on his way back to his car. "I'm sure you'll figure out something, shouldn't be too hard. Everyone knows the way he's always violently resisting when someone does manage to get close enough to try arresting him."

"Jethro... Don't do anything stupid." Saying that was kind of moot point, but Tobias felt he at least had to say it once. He didn't see it, but he heard the amused chuckle.

"This counts as a favor."

"Gibbs!" Tobias swore and somehow managed to dig out his phone from his pocket, to call for some help. There was no way he could carry this dead weight inside on his own; he was shaking enough as it was with the strain of just keeping them both upright. He didn't even want to think what would happen once the man was fully conscious again. No way could he hold down a man who was known for killing his victims with his bare hands. "You owe me a new suit!" he managed to yell before Gibbs closed the car door and left, just a moment before one of the guards finally decided it was in his best interest to help to take the prisoner inside.

Stopping his car outside the city later that night, Gibbs finally released the other man, who had much less bruises on him than the big guy who was now Fornell's problem. It couldn't really be helped since at some point the giant broke free and had attacked him, forcing him to use his every move and Marine training, and some dirty tricks, to beat down that mountain of a man. Without even looking, Gibbs knew his body was by now starting to become a mass of bruises, which he would have to figure out how to explain away... Or he could just glare at anyone who dared to even look. Still, he was feeling a little smug, knowing that he didn't look as bad as the other man did.

"You tell Voltolini that I will deal with him and his men if they keep coming after Tony. He may think he's above the law, but I'm not exactly straight and narrow either when it comes to dealing with people like him."

"He's just going to send other men, Agent."

"And I'll deal with each new problem he sends. If he or anyone else he sends so much as touches my Agent, my next interrogation will be much less pleasant."

The man laughed dryly. "You're making a mistake, and you may regret this soon. There are other dangers out there. We've kept him successfully safe thus far, but only because that has been our one and only job."

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"We are not the only ones following him, but unlike us, that someone is trying to kill him."

"Who?!"

"That's your problem to figure out." When Gibbs looked at him dangerously, a look he was now familiar with, he stuttered, "W-we... We don't know who or why. We just kept him safe. Wait! It's a woman! I swear that's all I know..!"

"I find out you've been lying to me..." Glaring hatefully at the pale man, Gibbs finally shoved him outside his car and slammed the door closed. He drove away, leaving the man coughing in the cloud of dust. Worried and with a nagging feeling in his gut, Gibbs went through a mental list of names and faces that he knew of, wondering who else could be after Tony. He wasn't sure how much longer he could stand back... And there were still too many unanswered questions. Clearly, Voltolini wasn't the sharing type when it came to his own men. Once again, Gibbs had the feeling that the one with the most answers was Tony himself.

Chapter Text

It wasn't the best week for Abby; it seemed like everyone had turned against her.

First there was McGee, their new addition to the family, who for some reason seemed to be terrified of both her and Gibbs, and he had turned down the invitation to go out with her for the fourth time this week, which really upset her. Then Kate had started avoiding her for some reason as well. Well, if Abby was willing to be honest with herself, it had been that way after Kate started questioning her why she wasn't acting like Tony's friend anymore. Being too close to Tony, Kate wouldn't understand that Abby was only punishing him, until Tony fixed his attitude. She wouldn't understand, so Abby hadn't told her anything. As a result, Kate had looked so disappointed and her general attitude toward Abby turned almost frosty. Ducky also tried to talk to her, but Abby wasn't interested in hearing what he had to say, so she was avoiding the old man whenever she could. She had to admit it made her feel awful, because she loved Ducky, but she already knew what he would tell her, and it wasn't what she wanted to hear.

Then there was Gibbs, her beloved Bossman, her number one person in her entire world. The center of her universe. She would have never thought that Gibbs could be so cold toward her. So distant. So... So mean, was the only word she could think of. Mean and unreasonable. He was never like that. Not with her. She'd always been special. But now...

Now, when Abby decided to finally give in a little, she had gone to Tony, inviting him to watch a movie with her. His indifferent response was mind-boggling. He dismissed the invitation and when she demanded to know the reason, he had looked almost like he was pitying her. "Tell me something, Abby... What made you change your mind about me, about us? Was it Ducky? I know he's been trying to say something to you. Was it Kate? I don't know what's going on between you two, but I know she's been avoiding you. Or was it Gibbs? Did your little talk with the Bossman do the trick?"

Abby felt like she'd been slapped. How did he know? Did Gibbs tell him? But that wasn't possible; Gibbs wouldn't do that to her. He wouldn't, right..?

- FLASHBACK -

Gibbs entered the lab with a small smile on his lips. The thing that Abby called music was loud, and she was being Abby. It was comforting to know some things never changed. Abby was startled by the sudden presence behind her and she looked around, confused. "Gibbs! Don't do that..! Why are you here? I don't have anything for you..." She was pouting and Gibbs held back his smile, holding out her daily Caf-Pow, which she grabbed with the biggest smile on her face. "How did you know? Stupid question. Of course you would know. You're Gibbs, you know everything. I don't know how you do it, but you do."

Hiding his amusement, Gibbs looked around the room. "DiNozzo didn't come here?"

There was a strange look that crossed her face, and this time when she smiled, it looked forced. "Tony? No, I haven't seen him today. Why?"

Gibbs frowned, and he stared at her as if seeing her for the first time. This was too much like when Tony first came here. Weren't they friends now? So what was with that strange tone of voice and look on her face? "Abby, is... Did something happen between you two?"

"Between who?"

"You and Tony."

She looked uncomfortable, and Gibbs noticed how she couldn't look him in the eye. When she finally did, she looked away almost immediately. "No, nothing happened. Why would you think that?"

"You really think I haven't noticed the drastic change in your relationship with him? What happened to you two spending time together outside work, or even at work, when it doesn't have something to do with one of our cases? Now that I think about it... What about Kate? Weren't you two close friends just a few days ago? 'Bosom friends', you said."

Abby was speechless, and she kept opening her mouth like a fish on dry land. She looked pained and then conflicted, as if she was not sure which emotion she should settle on. "I don't... I just..."

"Abby."

"It's because of Tony," she finally blurted out.

Gibbs narrowed his eyes, sensing something in there that... No. It couldn't possibly be. She was a grown woman, no matter how childish she could behave sometimes. Fine, all the time. But surely it was mostly just an act. It had to be. It was just one of her special little quirks. "Tony?" As hard as it right then was, he kept his voice calm, not wanting to spook her and then not get the answers he was after.

"It's because he's so... He's such a... I don't know how to say it." She started fidgeting.

"Try."

"It's because you've been mad at him. I know he did something. I don't know what, but it's something bad, or you wouldn't be so angry all the time. I know you. I will always be on your side, Gibbs. You know I will. So, until he apologizes and fixes whatever he did..."

He was shocked, speechless. He had never thought that... That because of him, because of his actions... That anyone would... That Abby would... Well, okay, maybe a part of him had been aware, but not like this. "So what you are saying..." he started slowly, still searching for the right words, "is that because I'm mad at Tony, you are no longer his friend?" He was afraid to know the answer.

Abby bit at her lip and pulled at her hair nervously. Her Bossman had the strangest look on his face and those pretty blue eyes, which she loved so much, looked almost glassy. She suddenly wasn't sure what answer she should give. Finally, she nodded.

Gibbs clenched his teeth together in a sudden burst of anger and frustration, until it hurt. He felt anger toward Abby for the way she was behaving, but then also himself for never seeing this and how far-reaching his own actions were. How little he'd cared to think and see the end result. How much more trouble had his actions caused? To Tony? "You..." he uttered hoarsely.

"Gibbs..?"

"You will apologize."

She was confused. "I'm sorry..?"

"Not to me! Tony!"

"Tony?" That had been the last thing she thought he would tell her. She took a step back when Gibbs glared dangerously at her. She'd never had Gibbs give her that look. It was nowhere near as fun to be at the receiving end. Her bottom lip was very near to start quivering, and it would have had she not been so shocked still.

"Whatever happens between me and Tony, is between me and Tony. It has nothing to do with you. Nothing!"

Abby felt hurt. Wounded. "But, Gibbs..."

"It has nothing to do with you, but that thing between me and Tony..." Gibbs looked pained as he admitted, "I was wrong. I was wrong and he was right. The details don't matter, but I'm the one who messed up. He doesn't deserve this kind of behavior from someone who I thought was his friend!"

"I'm sorry..."

"Don't apologize to me! Save that for Tony!"

"Yes..."

"Do you understand what I am telling you, Abby? You will apologize, and you will stop treating your friends this way for my sake. I don't want that kind of loyalty. Am I clear?" This whole thing was so wrong. He used to eat up her love and adoration, loved how special and above everyone else he was in her eyes, but now it felt disturbing. Had he made her be this way? "I'm only a man. And all men are bound to make mistakes."

"Yes, Gibbs," Abby whispered brokenly. Somehow, even her pigtails looked sad.

Gibbs shook his head in disappointment, and before she knew what happened, he reclaimed the Caf-Pow. "Like it or not, Abby, he is here to stay." He hoped. "So whatever jealousy you still carry in you toward anyone who gets too close to me, end it now."

"Yes, Gibbs... I'm really sorry."

Outside the lab, frozen by the door, Tony slowly turned around and left before he was caught.

"How did you know?" Abby asked quietly.

"I heard you and Gibbs. I wasn't going to listen, but I couldn't really help it when I walked in there and heard you two talking. Gibbs shouting isn't something you can easily ignore."

"Everything?"

"No, but I'm pretty sure I heard the important parts."

"I'm so sorry, Tony..."

He shook his head. "You didn't answer me. If Gibbs hadn't told you off, would you be here acting all friendly again? Be honest with me."

The look on her face twisted miserably. She had no idea. "I don't know. I'm sorry."

"Well, I think before we decide what the relationship between us is, if there is one, you need to do some thinking first. I think we both do." Tony picked up his things and left the bullpen before she decided to say another word, which he wasn't ready to listen. He didn't look back, because he didn't want to know what kind of looks there would be on their faces.

Abby looked helpless, and then she turned to Gibbs for help. And why hadn't he stepped in? He was just standing there without saying anything, the look on his face blank while he was drinking his coffee. She was sure he could've made Tony listen to her. Listen to her side of the story.

"No. You fix it." Gibbs shook his head, and he turned his back on her, which made her want to scream and cry at the same time. How was this happening and why?

Chapter Text

Jeffrey White. Tony had been hoping to never hear that name again. Even now, no matter how many times he went over it all in his head, he just couldn't make complete sense of how could one man be such a... Well, a serial killer, but then also be likable. Even though this time Tony had known the truth since the beginning, it didn't make it any less upsetting, what with Jeffrey once again sharing stories from his past, which just had to make him so human. There should be a rule against criminals being like the rest of them. If only the world weren't full of mostly different shades of gray, but rather clear white and black, life would be so much easier.

It was once again the case of the stolen Iraqi antiques, and yes, it was the same old for Tony, which made it really hard sometimes to keep himself from mouthing the lines of someone else. It was like being that one actor who knew the lines of other actors a little too well, and he had to remember to keep his mouth shut and only play his own part. And not just play it, it had to be believable. There were no actual second chances in real life because life goes on and there's no going back; dreams not included.

When they decided to send him undercover, Gibbs had looked hesitant, and he kept opening his mouth as if wanting to say something, until he finally turned to Kate. Tony thought he was glaring at her—which maybe he was—but then Kate had looked oddly amused, and she turned to look at Tony, saying with an almost sugary sweet voice that, 'Gibbs wants to make sure you watch your six out there, but he's too much of a coward to say it himself.' Gibbs had actually head-slapped Kate, who was slowly becoming better at 'Gibbs speak', since the dream-past interpreter SFA wasn't making the job any easier than he had to. After the head-slap, Tony had felt the green monster of jealousy creeping in, but he kicked it out with a wide smile on his face. Of course he would watch his six. He'd be fine. They didn't have to worry about him. No problemo... Only he didn't feel fine, and making him feel like this was not what he'd call a fair game. Had he known then just how much of a madman Gibbs would become when he once again went 'offline', Tony would've maybe found petty satisfaction over it. For a while.

Meanwhile, as the others were doing their thing, McGee kept looking like a deer caught in the headlights, trying to keep up with everything, and he most certainly didn't understand the 'Gibbs speak'. He was also still very much an outsider among their team, thanks to the SFA who kept things strictly professional between the two of them, all polished hard shell and more sterile than a hospital, while starting to openly relax around Kate and handling their boss seemingly with ease. With him gone, there was no one to control the beast.

So now, with Tony somewhere with the two criminals—Jeffrey White and Lane Danielson—Gibbs was busy losing his mind. They had lost all contact with his Agent, and had zero clue where DiNozzo was, let alone if he was even alive. Gibbs knew he should've listened to his gut and not allowed Tony to go out there. They'd messed up somehow, somewhere, and heads would start rolling. If something had happened to Tony, then God help those who did it... Leroy Jethro Gibbs did not panic; he became obsessed, but he never panicked. Instead, Gibbs was about to enter into a complete meltdown.

Only after it seemed like things were about to turn nasty did Abby finally come forward, looking meek and uncertain. She had another way to locate Tony.

- FLASHBACK -

Standing at the door, once again Tony felt like he was staring at two TV screens at the same time. The then and now. The differences this time were that the Abby now was younger than the one in his memory, and she was without the bounce usually present with every step she took. There was not a single bounce or skipping around; she looked like a ghost of the Abby they knew, a shadow or a weak imitation. The simple makeup made her face somehow look even paler than it normally was. It was almost a miracle she hadn't tattooed the name Gibbs somewhere. Or if she had, he was better off not knowing... He felt almost guilty, knowing it was because of him that Gibbs had stopped treating her like the special child she had always been, and it clearly pained Gibbs to do so, even if he was able to go on with his everyday life like usual.

Tony never thought that Abby had truly meant it when she said, in the dream-past, how her beloved Bossman was even more important to her than her all important Caf-Pow and that she needed her daily dose of Gibbs or else her juju was all wrong. This wasn't Mexico hiatus 2.0. either, because there weren't any Gibbs shrines put up anywhere they could see. This time Gibbs was there, pretty much every day, but he was still gone from her life. It made Tony feel like the bad guy, and he had never wanted to make this happen. Just a little stern talking, was all he had figured would've been enough, if it came from Gibbs.

When Kate had seen the decision on his face to put an end to this, she had pointed out that it was just Abby being too theatrical, and all that was missing was her listening to some sad music, with violins, to make it even more melodramatic. ' Give it some time', Kate had told him. He'd reluctantly agreed. Gibbs hadn't turned his back on Abby either, what with him still sending Caf-Pows to her, even if he wasn't bringing them personally and Abby knew it. She just had to start seeing outside her little bubble, and expand her world while she was still young.

Knocking at the wall next to the doorway, Tony had Abby's attention without having to try again. The lack of music really was alarming. "Abby." Turning around, for a split second, she looked almost normal. Not 'Abby-normal', though. What was even more disturbing, he realized that he could actually see her real hair color starting to grow out, reminding him just how much time had passed since the day Gibbs had completely turned around their relationship.

"Tony." Abby nodded, and her voice was a mix between gentle fondness and ice; then throw in a drop of hurt, and it seemed like she didn't know what to feel around him. She was trying, he knew she was, but she was also still feeling biting resentment.

"I know we're not exactly friends right now, but I have a big favor to ask you." For a moment, Tony started wondering if he should just go straight to Gibbs with it, but finally she nodded.

"All right, shoot."

"I need a Plan B, and C."

"Plan?"

"If, for some reason, I lose all contact with you guys while I'm undercover. It's a matter of life or death, Abby. Focus." He hated to say the next words, but he felt like he needed to test the ground for the sake of his own sanity. "If you can't do it, I need to know it now. I can't worry about these things while I'm out there."

She looked startled and then deeply hurt. "I'd never..! Things are a little crazy right now, and I'm maybe confused, but I'd never..!"

He almost smiled, but couldn't quite muster enough will to do it. "Thank you. So can you help?"

"Yes, of course I will!" For a while Abby looked normal again, which was Abby-normal, and at some point she even put on the dog collar she hadn't been wearing since the day her 'Gibbs-apocalypse' happened. Soon even the music was back on. One of these days, he would ask if the thing was possessed, or if it came with a personality switch...

It hadn't been easy and Tony had almost failed, even knowing what he did. As usual, with the smallest things, everything could change and turn into something he no longer had any control over. It really couldn't be helped, however, doing certain things differently. He wasn't really the same man as he had been back then; everything was the same, but even more than that, everything was different now. Back then, Tony had still been a little naive and blind about certain things regarding his life. Maybe it was because he hadn't really been ready to go there, to think about the truth and be forced to admit what it was. To give it a name, the name, would somehow make it all so much more real somehow. No matter what, children wanted to believe good things about their parents, wanted the love that should've been rightfully theirs. Or the next best thing, since this was Senior, the man who couldn't have won any parenting trophies even when the man had been sober.

So that's why, this time when Jeffrey had shared the stories of his past and childhood, when Tony told him that his own father was an alcoholic, he didn't say that Senior hadn't been abusive.

Abuse was more than beating up the child. Emotional abuse could be just as bad, if not worse. Senior may not have been able to physically abuse him that seriously—being usually too drunk to do much of anything besides throwing insults and throwing things around—but it didn't make it any less wrong. Well, there were few small incidents, like that time during halloween where it had come very close to crossing another line. But the man had already abused him mentally in every possible way, which could break even a fully grown man if done properly.

So that's why Tony simply mentioned his father having been an alcoholic, with that understanding little look, which he knew would tell the other man more than any words ever could. Jeffrey had stared at him for a long time, but never commented on the fact that he didn't elaborate more, leaving everything to the imagination. Winning the trust had been the easy part, as Tony knew it would be, but keeping the trust was a whole another challenge. Especially when the three of them finally stopped to get some much-needed rest, and he had to figure out how to drug the other two and not end up being drugged himself.

When Jeffrey woke up the next morning, Tony feared for a moment that the man suspected something. "He's gone!" Tony hissed, looking like he had just woken up. After that, it didn't take long to sell the idea that Lane had drugged them both and escaped. They had gone after the man. Meanwhile, the man in question had been hog-tied and hidden away with one of the two extra GPS locators Tony had asked Abby to arrange for him. He could only hope the last one wouldn't fail him. Tony had planned it all so well, but somehow Jeffrey had still seen the smoke and realized his ass was about to be on fire. Somewhere between Jeffrey finding that last hidden GPS and the flash of anger in the man's eyes, Tony found himself on the ground with a knife at his throat again. At least they weren't in the car this time. They spent a time rolling in the mud, until the wonderful sounds of team Gibbs arriving distracted Jeffrey long enough for Tony to disarm the man.

"You know..." Tony gasped breathlessly. "Don't take it the wrong way, but... I really liked you." This time, he wouldn't be saying those words to Gibbs, a man who could be such an ass when it came to choosing the words and attitude according to the situation, at least when it came to his SFA. And perhaps the world would have been better off had Jeffrey died, but Tony didn't want it to happen because of him. He hoped he wouldn't end up regretting this. He feared that he would.

As Gibbs took the man away, Jeffrey looked at Tony and, while to most people his expression would've remained blank, Tony saw the moment of emotion flickering through the dark eyes. It was strange indeed that even without a doubt that this man would come after his neck all over again, he still got through him. Even though, if given the chance, Jeffrey would still kill him, which to be fair, Tony would and had done the same to him. Kill or to be killed. That wasn't something they usually told you about when you were a kid who wanted to grow up to become a real-life hero. Sometimes to be a hero, you had to choose between two lives and do terrible things for good things to happen. Not that Tony felt like a hero. Living under the shadow of Gibbs for all those years had all but dimmed his own light. Perhaps someday he would find where to stand, so he no longer had to be that shadow.

Feeling so dark, Tony was unaware of just how brightly he himself shined, and it wasn't just his smile that was bright.

Gibbs entered the bullpen, holding two mugs of coffee in his hands. He stood there for a while, watching at his team working on their paperwork. It was a quiet end to something that had almost turned bad. His eyes drifted toward Tony and his throat. It had been so close. The image would most likely never leave him. Jeffrey White, sitting on top of his Agent as he tried to cut open his throat. Gibbs knew there would be nightmares of that moment, which meant he was going to spend some quality time with his boat.

Making up his mind, Gibbs moved closer. He had been far too patient ever since agreeing to Tony's terms, but the two of them really had to talk now. "DiNozzo."

Tony had just finished signing off his paperwork, and he looked up with a question in his tired eyes. Although he was now clean, he still hadn't shaved. Gibbs noticed for the first time the cut and bruised lip, and another bruise forming under his eye. Gibbs gave Tony one of the mugs and an odd look passed over his face; it was almost like gratitude, but Gibbs wasn't willing to bet on it. "You did good."

"Just did my job, boss. Thanks for the coffee."

"Tony... We need to talk." Gibbs didn't see it, but he could sense that the other two had stopped working.

"Boss, I—" Tony frowned, and he looked at something behind Gibbs.

Turning around, Gibbs saw Tobias Fornell stepping into the bullpen. The look on the FBI Agent's face was grim. Gibbs scowled. Of all times to show up, Tobias decided to do it when he was about to share a 'moment' with Tony. And by a moment, that meant the two of them almost fixing something. Maybe. He could always hope.

"Tony." Fornell nodded his greeting to the others, but his attention was on their SFA. Gibbs frowned at the familiar way his drinking buddy was addressing his Agent. He realized there was a story there, something he didn't know. Again. He may have sulked a little.

"What is it?" Tony stood up slowly.

"It's... Maybe we should have this conversation somewhere else?"

"Just say it, Tobias."

"It's," Tobias sighed, "about Danny. He's dead."

Dead silence. Kate and McGee had no idea what was going on, but even they could sense the heavy atmosphere, crushing as it was. Finally, Tony broke the silence with a low, disbelieving chuckle. "What are you talking about? You know, that's not exactly what I had in mind when I asked you to check on him."

Fornell couldn't quite cover up his flinch at the sharp words. "Yeah, well, somehow I wasn't informed when it happened, but... He's been dead for a while. Both he and his wife were murdered a couple of months ago. Also, the Agent who was responsible for his case has disappeared." What he failed to mention was how eerily similar the disappearance was to the cases involving Voltolini. It had to be almost a miracle that they even knew Danny Price was dead.

"You were supposed to keep him safe." Tony was sounding awfully calm for someone who had just been told his former partner and friend had been killed. Unsettled by the calm, Gibbs moved closer to Tony without even realizing it. He glared at Fornell. They'd be having a good, long talk about this one later...

Tobias cringed. He wanted to say that it hadn't been his doing, but right now that hardly mattered. "I'm sorry... Do you want to know how they..?"

Shaking his head, Tony left the bullpen, trying to not look like he was running away from the situation. Finding himself in the restroom, he collapsed on the floor, hugging the toilet. As pale as he was, and although he kept taking several shuddering breaths, feeling ill to the point of trembling, nothing came up. The door opened with a small creak, and he knew without a doubt it was Gibbs. "I don't think I can do this, boss. I really don't want to do this anymore." After saying that, Tony kept taking those deep, shuddering breaths.

Gibbs, at a loss for words and what he should do, somehow squeezed himself inside the small cube that barely fit the toilet and one grown man. How they were going to get outside, they'd figure out later. Gibbs moved Tony's head awkwardly against his shoulder, and then they just sat there like that for a while. "Keep breathing."

Once the sick feeling in his gut had subsided enough for his hunger to return, Tony finally dared to look at his boss. He could really use some comfort food to end the day. "Cowboy steaks..?"

Chapter Text

Gibbs listened to the sounds of heavy breathing coming from the other side of the room, while he worked on what was going to be his next boat.

After eating and then drinking some of the bourbon that Gibbs kept in the basement, and talking about things that didn't matter, Tony had finally crashed. The man was in a deep sleep at the staircase and Gibbs was half-tempted to wake him and send him upstairs in the guest bedroom, but then there was also a high chance that Tony would leave and not get the rest he so obviously needed. Or he might go somewhere else, like... to that bartender... Gibbs was aware he was being a hypocrite since he himself wasn't and couldn't sleep, thanks to the nightmares he could already see coming. The image of Tony with his throat cut open was imprinted on his mind, more vivid and horrific in his memories than it had been, but he knew it easily could've ended up just like that.

Tony suddenly gasped for his breath, the sound of it surprised. Looking at him, Gibbs saw his furrowed brows and Tony's mouth kept opening silently, but no words came out.

Gibbs didn't know, and he didn't ask, why Tony seemed to seek comfort from the basement. Maybe it was the sound of him working on the boat, the smell, or then it was that bourbon. It probably was the bourbon. There could be any number of reasons, but he wasn't going to look too deeply into it. Gibbs stopped working on the boat as he wondered how things would go from here now. They hadn't talked about anything they should have. Was this simply some temporary fluke, and Tony still planned to never let them fix their relationship outside the work? He hoped not. He didn't have it in him to go back to what he'd promised and agreed to do. Or rather, not do.

Tony mumbled something in his sleep and frowned. He was clearly having a nightmare, but before Gibbs could wake him, he started gasping for his breath again, clearly unable to get any air into his lungs. "I can't!" Tony woke up with a panicked shout. He was breathing harshly, as if he'd just been running for several miles, but at least he was breathing. His eyes moved sluggishly around, seemingly taking in the basement, but a closer look revealed that he wasn't probably really seeing anything.

"Tony. Tony, it was just a dream. You're awake," Gibbs said soothingly as he slowly approached his Agent, who was now sitting up, looking perplexed.

"Boss..? Wha..?"

"It was a dream." Gibbs sat down next to him, keeping a cautious eye on him.

"Just a dream..." Tony muttered as he slowly relaxed. Leaning against the wall next to the staircase, he shuddered at the memory.

"It happens often? What was—Do you want to talk about it? It might help," Gibbs suggested gruffly. It still didn't come naturally to drop his bastard attitude.

Tony shook his head and rubbed his chest absently. "Just... I couldn't breathe, no matter how hard I tried. You kept telling me that I wasn't gonna die, but I couldn't breathe. Blue lights... I was drowning, trying to save... someone."

"Blue lights?"

"Doesn't matter; it was just a dream."

Gibbs frowned. "If there's one thing I've learned, it's that there's no such things as 'just a dream' when it comes to you."

"You don't say." Tony looked at his boss closely. "Say... If I were to tell you that it was all just a big lie. You know, that whole dream I had while in a coma, that none of it was real, and I made it all up to mess with people. What would you do?"

"I'd say that's a bunch of BS. You don't joke about big things. You make a big deal out of things that aren't, and then play around all day long if you can get away with it... But the big things? You hide and try to make them sound as if they're nothing. Couldn't dismiss them even if I wanted."

"That's a lot of big words there, boss... Be careful not to make any promises."

Gibbs scowled, and he reached toward the forgotten bottle of bourbon, but changed his mind at the disapproving look his Agent gave him. Right... They still had work tomorrow, and he was supposed to be showing a good example, or something.

"Boss... I..."

"I'm sorry, Tony."

"Rule 6."

Gibbs ignored it. He might have to rethink that rule for a bit... Well, maybe just add a tiny side note there. Somewhere. Later. Right now, he had other things to think about. Things to explain. "The way I behaved during the chase of Ari. I'm not sorry I tried to hunt him down—I would do it all over again—but I am sorry for the kind of man it turned me into. There are no excuses for that kind of... behavior."

Tony stared at him. "Really? From what I heard, you went down that road again when I was missing."

"That's different..."

"In what way is it different? Gibbs, I don't want to become your next Moby Dick."

"I can't promise that."

Tony glared, and he stood up as a silent sign that in that case they were done talking, but then a hand holding his stopped him. Looking down, he saw the pleading look and resumed his seat. Since he was already there, he might as well give the man at least a chance to explain himself. Of course, as usual, Gibbs wasn't good with the big words. The important ones.

"I can't promise that because... It's different because..."

"Just say it."

Gibbs looked him in the eye. "You're a family. My family. And maybe it's something that will always change me into someone who shouldn't be doing the kind of work I do, but family will always change everything for me. Every stupid rule in every stupid rule book. I wish I could say I'm sorry for it, but I can't."

"Boss..." Tony was stunned.

"I know better than some, just what can happen in this line of work, and I have many enemies. God knows I deserve some. If they ever find out about you, I don't think I can... If something happens because of me... And then there's you, with your own set of trouble and enemies, so I can't stop worrying. It's never ending!"

"Wow. When you let it go and out, you really... Wow," Tony muttered again, rubbing his neck. "Look, I... I get it, okay? I get it. Just... I don't... I get it. I just..."

Gibbs smirked at the way Tony seemed to be at a complete loss for words. There was a first time for everything. "Come on, let's get some sleep. We'll talk more later. It'll give you time to find your voice."

"Ha-ha..." Tony snarked, and let the man pull him up.

Entering the bullpen the next morning, Tony stopped short at the alien sight, and even Gibbs had a moment of surprise, pausing his brisk pace. Pretty much knowing his every expression and non-expression by now, Tony saw that the older man was shocked and a little concerned. Abby was standing there, looking more confident than she had been for a while, but her outfit, on the other hand... She looked almost normal. It was still very Abby, but it was shockingly tame. And she had lost her trademark black hair color. Granted, it was now a vibrant color of red, but it was still too big of a change and out of nowhere.

"It's still just me," Abby sounded amused and like she'd had to already explain her hair few times by now.

"You know, you didn't have to change completely for..." Tony said and then cleared his throat as Gibbs slowly recovered and moved to his desk, but Tony knew he was still listening.

"No... I can always dress up when I go out and there's still all those special holidays where I can wear something fun at work too and... I feel weird, but at least it's pretty comfy."

"But your hair..?"

Her face fell. "Turns out I'm allergic..." She shook her head with a sad look on her face, but recovered quickly and pulled at her braided red hair. "So... What do you think?"

"It... looks nice. It's so... very red. Bright and cheerful. Very you, I guess..." Tony allowed a small smile. Gibbs merely grunted, which could mean anything.

Abby took it as the highest compliment, and she beamed. Then she looked at them both uncertainly. "I'm glad you're okay, Tony."

As easy as it would be to jump right back into their friendship, Tony only nodded. "Thank you." He cringed inwardly. 'Thank you?'

She looked at him searchingly, but whatever she was looking for, she clearly didn't find, as she looked a little dejected before smiling weakly. "Oh, Gibbs, Morrow wants to see you." Gibbs wouldn't admit that the twin looks of expectation were what pushed him from his chair and up the stairs to see the Director now, rather than later, when he felt like it. It took barely five minutes before Gibbs was storming back in the bullpen, looking pissed. Thankfully, Abby had already left by then.

Tony eyed him warily and wondered if he should duck for cover. "Bad news?"

Gibbs took a deep breath before saying anything. He was too angry otherwise to say anything sensible. "We are to finish the paperwork and then take a week off. He already took the liberty of letting Kate and McGee know." The look on his face told Tony exactly how Gibbs felt about that.

"Told us or threatened?"

Gibbs ignored the jest as he suddenly had an idea, which may or may not be a bad one. "I think I'll use this chance to... I'm going to see my dad."

"That's great," Tony said carefully, unsure why the boss was telling him that.

"You should come with me." Gibbs knew they both needed to get away for a while. He didn't know why his dad had been the first thing that came to his mind, but now that it did, and he already let it out, he couldn't take it back.

"Me?"

"Yes."

"With you?"

"Yes."

"To see your dad?"

"Yes."

"Oh... Are you sure you want me to..?"

Gibbs was getting rather 'twitchy' at that point. "Yes."

"Okay..."

Much later on that day, they drove in companionable silence when neither man felt like talking. The radio was on and did all the talking for them, whenever it wasn't playing some music. Gibbs hadn't called Jackson, deciding to surprise his dad. If he was completely honest with himself, he was more than a little unsure what he would even say to the old man or what his dad would say to him. For all he knew, his dad wouldn't want to see him, or he would change his mind about seeing his old man.

"This feels like déjà vu," Tony said suddenly. "Again, which is getting kind of old for me. There's a car following us. Has been doing that for a while now."

"I know."

Chapter Text

The good thing was, they weren't followed by some bad guy this time. The bad thing was, it was Abby. You couldn't exactly not recognize her car, cutting through the oncoming traffic to keep up with Gibbs.

Worrying that she would end up in a car accident, or causing one, Gibbs slowed down.

"What should we do, boss?"

Gibbs glared at the road in front of them and didn't answer. Not too long ago, he might have found the situation amusing or slightly irritating at worst. But that was before, and many things had changed since then. Finally, without warning, he stopped the car on the side of the road.

"Maybe she has a good reason?" Saying that, Tony didn't really believe it. It was true that in her mind the reason might be good and even perfectly logical, but the real world, and what's in her head, didn't always go hand in hand.

"Wait in the car," Gibbs ordered, and left the car. Tony stared after him, hating to be left behind, but glad that he didn't have to be the one going there and doing the talking.

Seeing her Bossman standing there with his arms crossed over his chest, an unfriendly look on his face, Abby slowed down and stopped behind Gibbs' car.

Feeling slight concern, Tony had to force himself to look away when Gibbs opened the door to Abby's car and got inside. He couldn't really help it, though, when he looked at them through the mirror, almost without any conscious thought that he was even doing it. He didn't know what was being said, but from the looks of it, the argument was growing rather heated, and then Abby looked hurt. Realizing what he was doing, Tony looked away again.

Not a moment too soon, Gibbs returned, and Tony asked without really asking it, "Boss?"

"She thought she could join us, wherever we were going. 'Family bonding time', is what she called it."

Tony winced, as his imagination was already beginning to supply his mind with all the ways that conversation had ended. Neither man looked when they could hear Abby's car leaving. Was it possible for a car to sound off tune, sad? If not, then Abby just managed to do that. "You know, boss, if she really wants... If you want her to... It's fine..."

It wasn't; not really. Tony was still feeling uncomfortable, even thinking about spending time with her outside work. He wasn't ready to go there yet—she wasn't ready—and maybe it would be better if Gibbs took her instead of him. Knowing how much she meant to the man, and how uncertain the relationship between him and Gibbs was right now, he could swallow down his hurt feelings as always. He was a big boy. He could do it easily... Maybe too easily.

Gibbs was staring at the emotions on Tony's face, or the lack of emotions, as it was. For once, his gut feelings were strangely calm, and he knew exactly what to do and that he'd done the right thing back there with Abby. "I invited only you for a reason, Tony."

Tony gave the boss his blank stare. While Gibbs for a chance had a clear head, he wasn't quite there yet. He was completely lost.

"Really, DiNozzo? Do I have to spell it out, again?" Gibbs shook his head in disbelief. Could someone so smart truly be that slow..?

"No... Of course not..." Tony kept his eyes on the small spot on the window. Was it a dead bug or was it some dirt..? His nervous mental rambling was cut short by a hand gently cuffing the back of his head in a different kind of head-slap. He almost didn't want to, but he looked at his boss. Well, it was more like a quick sidelong glance.

"I'm going to see my dad. We're not exactly on good terms. I figured, having a family there would make it easier."

"So wouldn't Abby be a much better choice?"

Gibbs frowned. "I don't want to bring Abby with me. She would try to 'fix us'. She means well, but I don't want that. I need you there if things don't go well, and I need you there if they do. Didn't you listen to me last night?"

"Sure I did..." Tony muttered, looking uncomfortable. It would be so easy to just accept the 'you're my family' speech as the truth. It would be so easy and the lost little boy in him would be so happy to do it. But he wasn't that little boy anymore, and he would most likely always remember his dream and what happened there... And now this case of Ari, which was anything but over. What if he failed on his mission to keep Kate alive; would Gibbs once again turn his back on their friendship? Well, a budding friendship. What with everything that had been happening, freezing their friendship status for a while. It would take some time to melt it first, before he could even think about them as a family of any kind. Or before he could even think about upgrading their status of 'kind of friends' into the real deal.

"Tony..."

"Shouldn't we get going now?"

Gibbs narrowed his eyes. Fine, they'd drop it for now, but soon enough they'd be on his turf. Well, his dad's turf, if you really wanted to get too technical. Once they were there and if things didn't turn out too ugly between him and his dad, then he was going to try to pull out a few truths and make Tony himself understand few things.

Starting the car, Gibbs drove back on the road.

"Um... Boss..?" Tony hesitated to speak out. The scowl on the man's face gave him an unpleasant feeling. "You know, we can always go back or..."

They were finally in Stillwater. In front of the house and still stuck inside the car. Stuck because it seemed like Gibbs was unable to leave the car. While he hadn't shown his true feelings, Tony had been excited and happy to see Jackson Gibbs 'again'. It was one of those things you didn't know you needed until the opportunity was given to you. And he liked the old man. Unfortunately, he hadn't thought this would give Gibbs himself such a hard time.

Taking a deep breath, Gibbs shook his head and opened the door. He still wasn't too sure if this was such a good idea, but again, with DiNozzo there with him, he couldn't just act like a coward. Wouldn't do good to ruin his tough boss image. And he still didn't know what had possessed him to want to come here in the first place. Wanting to blame someone, he blamed it on DiNozzo and his influence.

The front door opened and Gibbs froze. Without even realizing it, he was clenching his teeth. He was feeling like a young boy again, standing there and looking at his dad, full of resentment and anger. Sometimes it wasn't good to be that guy who just couldn't let things go.

"Leroy?" Jackson looked surprised, wary, and almost hopeful. His body language spoke of a deep wish to rush forward and hug his wayward son, but he remained frozen to the spot. That last emotion on his face was something that almost stabbed his son with guilt, but Gibbs pushed it away before it had a chance to set roots in him.

"Hi... Jack."

Jackson Gibbs closed his eyes for a second, unable to hide the hurt that flashed across his face. "Leroy..."

Feeling suddenly like that extra in the act where he didn't really belong to, Tony rolled down the car window. "Boss... This is something between you and your dad, so if you want, I could..."

Gibbs scowled at the curious look on his dad's face when the old man noticed his Agent for the first time. At least it was better than seeing the different looks of hurt on his face. Without waiting to let Tony finish talking, Gibbs walked inside the house. Hesitating only for a moment, Jackson followed. He at least gave the young man an apologetic smile.

"...wait in the car as you two talk," Tony finished his unfinished sentence with a sigh. Typical Gibbs. He had a feeling that however their talk would go, it was going to take a while. It was a good thing he had anticipated this. Moving to the back seat, he took out his laptop. One of the movies he brought with him was the one he had managed to save from the first sniper lesson with Gibbs.

"Eugene was bad, but as usual you're even worse, boss..." Tony muttered, and he almost shuddered at the memory of how close that one bullet had been to shattering the treasured DVD. Before he knew what he was doing, Tony brushed his fingers gently over the DVD case. To think that someone like Gibbs had been able to give a meaningful gift... To him. It wasn't like he had even mentioned to anyone what this movie meant to him... Not even in 'the other life'... And yes, he was no fool. He knew the sniper lesson had been simply an excuse to give the gift, without actually making it seem like a gift. "And I guess that's just so you..."

Making himself as comfortable as he could and wishing he would've at least brought a pillow with him, he started watching the movie. After a while, though, his eyes started closing, and before the movie had even made it to the fifteen minutes, Tony was in a deep sleep. As was usual in these days, it was not a restful sleep, but one full of torment.

Meanwhile, in the house, Gibbs sat down behind the kitchen table and glanced longingly toward the old coffee maker. After the car ride, he was going through withdrawal.

Jackson saw the look and almost smiled. He knew this was clearly going to be a long and painful conversation for them both. He knew what they both needed before even going there. "Coffee?"

- DREAM -

He was drowning again. Drowning under the blue lights from that hospital room, which were like the siren call for the Death to come and get him. Holding his hand in a tight hold. Bringing him not a peaceful and painless death, but one that was of utter agony. In isolation and alone, under those blue lights. Not even Kate was there this time, because she was dead. Died on the rooftop.

Unable to fight it any longer, he finally gave up as he always did. Too tired, he let the darkness slowly pull him away, down into the murky waters. It was easier that way. He was tired of fighting against his destiny. If it was his destiny to roll over and die, then so be it. There was nothing stopping him this time.

Blue lights were the last thing he saw before everything turned pitch black.

"Tony!"

Tony woke up with a loud gasp and the first thing he saw was the blue color. Not the sickly blue from his dream, but the eyes of his boss. A little too close for his comfort. The man looked worried and pale, almost ashen. Taking in a deep lungful of that sweet air, Tony frowned at the odd feeling on his lips. It was then that he realized he was on the ground, outside the car. "Boss..? Did you just..?"

"You weren't breathing," Gibbs growled softly.

"You gave me CPR... It was just a bad dream, Gibbs. A very bad dream, but still just a dream." Tony sat up slowly, feeling slightly dizzy, as his brains were still fighting the effects of not having enough oxygen.

"You. Weren't. Breathing," Gibbs repeated, putting more emphasis on each spoken word. "Not for too long, I hope, but long enough. I'm pretty sure I saw a hint of blue on your lips. And you didn't give any signs of awareness. Scared me half to death."

Ignoring the fact that his boss had just admitted being scared, Tony made a face. "So you gave me CPR. Thanks, but... Let's not share that one with anyone... Please?"

There was some humor peeking through the serious eyes, and Gibbs finally sat down. His knees didn't thank him for kneeling on the hard ground for that long. "Just don't do it again."

Without promising anything, Tony hummed softly. "I wish that I... Would it be wrong to be selfish? To do something that's only to save myself..."

Gibbs had no real answer to give, when he didn't even know what the question was about. "Would it bring trouble to someone else?"

"I don't know... I think not."

"It's called self-preservation. And if anyone deserves to be a little selfish now and then, it's you."

Tony didn't look convinced. He never got the chance to voice his doubts, since that's when Jackson ran outside.

"The ambulance is on the way!"

Hearing Jackson's words, Tony turned to look at Gibbs with wide eyes. "Please tell me you didn't..?"

"You stopped breathing," Gibbs pointed out, and was it now the third time?

"I get it. But it really was just a bad reaction from a very bad dream. I would've woken up and started breathing on my own again before it got too serious. Not that I mean to sound ungrateful, boss..."

"Don't make me say it again, for the fourth time, DiNozzo," Gibbs growled and then something hit and started bothering him. What Tony had said or how he had said it. "This isn't the first time this has happened, is it?"

Tony swallowed visibly. Right, he almost forgot that little detail. "Maybe..?"

And of course, Gibbs swore loudly. "You should've told me! How long? Since when?"

"I'm pretty sure that's none of your business."

"The he—"

"Language, Leroy," Jackson scolded. He had been observing the two men with much interest. While he and his son had somehow agreed to give their relationship another chance, he was yet to find out who this young man was. A friend?

"Dad..." Gibbs glared at his father, but Tony was already in a much better mood.

"Yes, Leroy. Language."

"DiNozzo..." Gibbs warned, and raised his hand for a head-slap.

"Leroy! Don't you dare!" Jackson looked shocked. Although, why was he? This was Leroy being... Well, himself.

Tony smirked at the annoyed look on his boss' face. "You should listen to your dad, boss."

Gibbs shook his head. He was starting to wonder if this was such a good idea, after all. Letting his dad and Tony meet...

Chapter Text

Even though both his dad and Tony had been asleep for a couple of hours now, Gibbs found himself unable to even close his eyes that night. His mind was still revisiting that moment when he opened the car door, and had then soon realized something was very wrong. How the silence in the car had been too silent...

It had taken Tony some time to speak his way out of going to the hospital, but both Gibbs men had kept an eye on the young man who could fake his way through life-threatening situations, until he was alone and could crash without anyone there to see his moment of 'weakness'. Gibbs would also make sure that Ducky was aware of what happened... Just for the sake of his own peace of mind, if nothing else.

Opening the bedroom door as quietly as he could, Gibbs stepped into the room, where only the moon shining through the window gave some light. He shook his head at the way his Agent was sleeping. Too close to falling off the bed and his feet on the pillow. Tony frowned in his sleep and he mumbled something, but didn't wake up. Thankfully, Gibbs had worked on his skills of stealth to be able to sneak in the room without waking the man, who was a light sleeper.

"What am I going to do with you, DiNozzo?" he said so quietly, it was more like breathing out the words. Still, even that seemed to be too loud, as Tony startled in his sleep, but it wasn't enough to wake him up.

- DREAM REALITY -

It was that dream again, or not a dream. Whatever it was, if it meant he would catch a break from his nightmares, Tony welcomed it with open arms.

This time, he opened his eyes to find himself sitting on one of the two chairs in a hospital room. It was a different room from the one before, but he gave that only a moment of thought as he saw himself and the much older looking Gibbs. Strangely enough, the Tony in bed didn't look any older than what he remembered seeing last time in the mirror, when he had been older. Maybe it was because, from the looks of things, he'd spent a very long time 'sleeping', while Gibbs looked like he was carrying the weight of the entire world on his shoulders, even without the age factor.

It never got any less weird, thinking about these things.

Tony's eyes went to the hand that was brushing through the comatose Tony's hair. It was gentle and the old man's hand was trembling, almost as if he was afraid to touch the man in bed. Noticing the haunted look on Gibbs' face for the first time, Tony was taken aback for a moment when he finally realized that Gibbs had a beard. Proper, untidy beard. And long gone was his Marine haircut.

Gibbs' gruff voice startled Tony out of his shock, "I'm sorry... It's my fault you're like this... I should've never done it..."

Tony frowned as he tried to make sense of what the man was talking about. Why was he blaming himself?

"Should've known whenever people told me I shouldn't be doing it... Shouldn't have used your head as my target so much..."

When what Gibbs was saying finally hit home, Tony started chuckling. Because really, who else would this happen to? Had his boss indeed literally head-slapped him into a coma? But how? On that day, he had been walking around just fine after that last angry slap against his head, and—Oh.

"I should've at least made you see the doctor when you fell... But I had to be that bastard who couldn't see through my blind rage..."

Tony had a flashback then, which was about the last day, when he finally walked out. The day when his entire reality did the tumble in mid-air and then landed him flat on his face, from where he then rolled down the long bumpy hill and into the deepest ditch his body could find. On that day, things had been getting really nasty, as they usually did whenever Gibbs was rewriting even his own rules when he went after some bad guy who had become some personal insult to his injury. Thanks to that, it had ended almost as Ari 2.0., and this time it had nearly been his SFA who paid the ultimate price.

Thankfully—and somewhat ironically—it was him falling flat on his back that had saved Tony's life from the bullet aimed toward his brains. All thanks to Gibbs for slapping his head, when he dared to question the man's ability to make any decisions, let alone give orders when they were getting too much and way beyond anything legal. After that, he'd suffered from a growing headache... He still couldn't remember that moment between falling and then Gibbs slapping his face and telling him to stop 'sleeping on the job'.

Surely this was a joke or some misguided guilt? Dying because of some head-slapping and a very bad timing... Or ending up in a coma, or whatever this was. It didn't sound like the way heroes in the movies would die... Then again, he was no hero. Was he?

"Am I doing the right thing, Tony..? They keep telling me to let you go... But I can't... If I do... I don't think I... Are they right..? Am I keeping you here against your will..?"

Tony stared at the lonely tear rolling down the wrinkles and then disappearing in the beard that was trembling. A giveaway to the trembling of the man's chin. He really didn't know this Gibbs... Was this really his boss?

"Is that what you want? Do you want me to let you go?" When Gibbs' eyes went to the machine, which had to be the thing keeping his body alive, Tony felt himself turn cold inside.

He had never given it a thought. Whatever this dream was—if it even was a dream—if it was real, then what would it mean to the him now if something were to happen here, in this place? He had no idea, but while he wasn't scared of dying, this wasn't the time for it either.

Although it felt like he had been nailed to the chair, Tony forced himself to stand up on his strangely weak feet, and he stumbled closer to the bed and Gibbs.

"Six years, Tony... It's been six long years of waiting... I can't... Not getting any younger here, DiNozzo... What happens if I die and you never wake up..?"

Well, that could explain why Gibbs was looking so much older. The years and then all that worry and who knows what else... Tony wondered if anyone took care of the old 'b'. The man looked skinny and even frail. Nothing like the big bad Marine boss he remembered...

It was then that it happened. For the first time since walking away. A seed of forgiveness was planted somewhere in his hardened heart. Tony had never thought it would be possible, not when this Gibbs had betrayed his trust for the last time, and yet there it now was. Not as a flourishing plant of forgiveness, but the seed began to set its roots in him. Life was too short for endless grudges. The evidence was in this room, in front of his eyes. Forgive, but never forget... Could he truly let go of his anger toward this old man here? Would he be strong enough..?

Not giving it any thought, Tony reached out his hand to lay it on the old man's trembling shoulder. His hand went right through, and for a moment he just stared at his hand sticking through the only living body in the room.

"Gibbs..."

It was becoming boringly unsurprising waking up like this, sitting up and gasping for his breath, sometimes even shouting out something. Thankfully, there was no shouting this time, but waking up in a cold sweat brought not the usual feeling of horror from his nightmares, but deep sadness that felt almost like a physical wound. "Gibbs..."

"Good. You're awake." Gibbs' voice coming from the bedroom door startled Tony, and for a moment he could only stare at the younger face of his boss, illuminated by the moonlight. It was much less open and not that broken aging man sitting beside the comatose former SFA. Tony had to fight his impulse to touch Gibbs' face, and he tried to ignore the memory of his hand going through his boss. He shuddered. It had been the weirdest thing ever.

"What time is it..?"

"Time for coffee."

"That early..?" Tony muttered to the empty room as the man was already gone. Raising his hand, he stared at it. "'Well, there's something you don't see every day...'" he said quietly to himself, imitating the voice of Bill Murray aka Dr. Peter Venkman.

When he slowly made his way to the kitchen, Tony couldn't stop himself from yawning constantly. His body was telling him how it was still too early, but the smell of coffee was too tempting now that he was up. "Boss... It's way too early and even the sun is sleeping, smart thing that is... I bet even your dad is still asleep..." Tony muttered as he sat behind the table, where Gibbs already was with coffee for them both.

"I know... I think we need to talk..."

"We've already talked..."

"Apparently we haven't."

Tony shook his head, as if doing that could get him out of the situation or wake him up. He reached toward the coffee in a grumpy and sleepy manner of a five-year-old.

Gibbs held back a smile. All right, he could give the man some time to wake up properly before attempting any kind of conversation...

Few cups of coffee later for them both—and another full pot on the way—Tony was looking much more alert, as his entire body had turned tenser than a violin string. More than that and something might snap, so Gibbs decided it was the time to start talking.

"I meant what I said, Tony. You're my family. Do you understand what I'm saying..?"

Tony shrugged and kept his eyes on the table. He looked still too tense, but at least he wasn't acting something he wasn't, and Gibbs rather took this than no emotion at all or one of those forced sugary sweet smiles.

"I'm a bastard..." he started, and Tony snorted in amusement. "I am a bastard, and I'm not going to change," he admitted with some regret. "Not completely... And I will always lose my head over certain things. Especially when it's about people I care about... All I can do is try my best. For the rest of it... Well, I could use someone to head-slap me back into sanity..." Gibbs smirked as he was pretty sure if there was anyone brave enough to actually take his words seriously and do it, then it was Tony.

Tony licked his lips as if they were dry. His nerves were making his skin tingle, dreading to say his next words. He wasn't scared or anything, but this wasn't something that had even crossed his mind, until now. There were things far bigger to worry about than something like this, and yet... "Boss... About those head-slaps... Don't do it anymore."

The cup of coffee stopped halfway to the man's lips and although Gibbs was clearly startled, he didn't say anything, but he didn't have to. In his typical manner, just one look from him told Tony to keep talking. To explain himself.

Tony tried to not swallow at the piercing stare. "They're not professional and they're humiliating. I know I'm not mighty Agent Gibbs, but I've been doing this kind of work for so many years that I can hardly even remember the time before. I think... I hope I'm good enough to be at least treated as the SFA I am supposed to be. But if you don't show me respect in front of the others..."

A memory came to his head then, from both this life and the other one, and Tony smiled bitterly. "Do you know what people talk about behind our backs? They either laugh at me and wonder just how bad I must be at my work, because you're always slapping my head for the smallest things, or then they plot revenge against you and wonder if I'm mad for allowing it to go on... Slapping my head, it doesn't help me focus. For what it's worth, it may not look like it sometimes, but I am always focused, and I thought the results would show it... And when you have a bad day, you don't hold back, and those slaps give me a headache."

For a moment, Tony thought Gibbs was going to slap him just for telling the boss to not head-slap him.

"You never told me... Do they really hurt that much..?"

Tony fidgeted. He didn't want to answer. Now that he got it out, he regretted bringing up something so meaningless. It was just a head-slap. Right..? "Well, not always... Only when you're in a really bad mood..."

Gibbs may be a bastard, but even he was aware of the fact that his bad days outweighed his good days. His head was suddenly filled with flashes of memories where he had slapped the young Agent's head. Too often, he had been almost looking for excuses when he had a bad day or the case wasn't being solved fast enough or the way he wanted. He had turned Tony's head into his personal outlet for his anger and frustration. Sometimes it wasn't even that, was it..? Gibbs then had another flash of memory. After one of such head-slaps, he had turned around and saw Tony rubbing his head with a pained look on his face, when he thought no one was looking at him. Did he cause that?

"Why didn't you tell me..?"

"I didn't know if you would care." Tony didn't mean to say that out loud, and the look on his face was almost startled, before embarrassment came. He looked up when Gibbs raised a hand on his shoulder. The look on the older man's face was almost... remorseful..?

"I'm sorry..."

"Rule 6, boss."

Without thinking about it, Gibbs raised his hand to give a head-slap for the smartass tone of voice and comment. They both froze. Tony, because he still had that memory from his latest 'dream'. Gibbs, because it only now truly hit him how easily this action came from him and without any conscious thought.

"Have to work on that..." Gibbs muttered gruffly, and he pulled his hand away, feeling as if something had burned it. He really had to work on that if he wanted to be in control of his own actions again.

Tony shrugged and rubbed the back of his head. He didn't put much faith in that Gibbs could go without slapping his head forever, but he didn't dare say it out loud. The man might just for that prove his doubts real...

Chapter Text

"Where do we stand, Tony?"

They were sitting in the living room in front of the fireplace, and although it was still dark outside, they could smell the breakfast in the kitchen. At some point during their talk—and sometimes silence as they drank their coffee—Jackson had walked in the kitchen. The sleepy old man had looked confused only for a moment before he seemed almost resigned to start making them all some very early breakfast. Tony had felt guilty and started apologizing, but Gibbs simply dragged him into the living room.

Tony's silence was the worst kind of answer he thought he'd be getting, and Gibbs felt his hand almost getting a cramp with the way he kept holding back his automatic reaction to give a head-slap.

"I don't trust you," Tony finally admitted, and somehow getting the answer didn't make Gibbs feel any better. "I don't trust you, but to be fair, I don't trust anyone. It's not just you. And for what it's worth, I do trust you to watch my back in the field."

"But it's still on me, isn't it?"

Tony gave his boss the look that told the man more than any words could. Then he turned his head away, staring at the fire again. It was almost hypnotic, the way the flames were dancing and trying to lull him into that feeling of false security. Just like Gibbs with his moments of sweet words and actions. He had no energy to even think about how to make things easier for both of them, but mostly for the older man. And he knew he shouldn't do it, so he decided to let go and simply not bother. He had his head full of other things to worry about, as it was. He didn't need Gibbs to add more to it. There was no room for more.

"Tony?"

"Yes. It is," Tony answered. "Is that what you want me to say, boss? It's not that simple."

"Well, make it simple," Gibbs almost snapped.

Tony, the ever observant one, spotted the underlying anger and his eyes narrowed. "You're an ass. The kind who is sitting in his little black hole and expects the entire universe to move around you and your feelings, which people are supposed to know about, even when you usually only let it out in the form of anger. Then there are small moments where you almost seem like the rest of us mere mortals, but then you crawl back in that hole and act like it's okay, and I'm supposed to know when I should take it personally and when not." Tony shook his head. "And the thing is... It would be so much easier if I could just hate you. Stop giving me these mixed signals, please. I don't do well with uncertainty. I need to know where I stand, without second-guessing everything all the time, and without worrying when I'll be kicked down again."

"That the dream you talking again..?"

"Don't go there again, boss... You asked me where we stand. But what about me? Where do I stand? What am I to you?"

"I told you. You're my family."

"Gibbs..." Tony looked uncomfortable. "Don't take this the wrong way, but I don't see you as my family."

And didn't that hurt? Gibbs honestly tried to not show the deep hurt on his face, but some of his feelings might have slipped through, or then it was simply Tony being Tony, because the young man had an almost pitying look on his face.

"You can always prove me wrong or maybe with some time we'll learn how to be one, but if you are going to change your mind later, please don't even bother."

"I would never..."

"I know you think you would never do that. But I'm also not sure if you even yourself know what's going on in your head half the time. Think about Ari... You can disagree with me all you want, but when you get like that, you're not being an investigator. You're running purely on how you feel, and that clouds your judgment far more than you are aware... I would much rather take my father over your uncertain friendship any day. At least with him I know what to expect, and nothing he does surprises me anymore."

Gibbs stared at his cup of coffee and realized it was still full and now cold. When he woke up Tony, it had been so he could tell some truths while the young man didn't have all his defenses up, and then make sure Tony knew he was serious about this. Instead, it was he who had received some harsh truths, and even he didn't like what he saw. And he had to look, or he could never begin to even hope for mending things between the two of them. As much as he loved the kid, Tony was almost annoyingly observant and could spot his lie or half-truths miles away.

Gibbs froze as his train of thought came to a sudden stop. Love? Sure, he cared deeply about his Agent, but he was Gibbs. He didn't put his feelings into such big words. He could almost hear Shannon laughing at him with that delighted tone of voice.

Tony studied the other man silently. "Boss... Go get some sleep. I'll still be around when you wake up, I promise. Get some sleep, and then we can talk more in the morning. The real morning."

Still greatly affected by his own thoughts, Gibbs didn't even utter a word as he stood up and left, leaving behind a man who hadn't thought his boss would actually take his words seriously enough to listen.

"This is maddening..." Tony muttered. He listened to the sounds of burning wood in the fireplace and waited until he was pretty sure Gibbs was asleep, if the man was even able to get any sleep with all that coffee they had both been drinking. Unsure if he was any good company for Jack right now, Tony decided to skip the kitchen as he finally stood up and went to sit outside the house, where the fresh breeze was more refreshing than the coffee. He enjoyed what was left of the darkness that allowed him to see the stars.

He was humming the melody of 'Vincent ', when Jackson joined him. When the old man didn't say anything at first and simply wrapped a huge blanket over his shoulders, Tony felt oddly warm at the gesture, which felt very much like a big hug. It was such a small thing, but he was unsure how to react. Before Tony could utter his awkward thanks, Jackson disappeared back inside, only to reappear soon with two huge cups of steaming hot chocolate.

"Thank you..." Tony mumbled as the old man gave him the other cup, and then sat down next to him, smiling gently at the young man who, being impatient, nearly burned his mouth trying to drink too soon.

After a moment, Jackson finally said, "I have a feeling it's you I need to thank for bringing my wayward son back home."

"I didn't... It wasn't me. He decided it himself."

Jackson didn't look convinced, but thankfully, he decided to let it go. "So... Who are you really? What are you to Leroy?"

"We're... We're coworkers. He's my boss..."

"I see..." Jackson smiled. Somehow it felt like he could see right through him, even better than Gibbs sometimes did, and Tony was feeling uncomfortable. Seeing that, Jackson decided he needed to do something to make his young guest feel a bit more relaxed around him. "Would you like to see some old photographs?"

Tony's entire expression brightened, and even his body lost some sadness it had been carrying until then.

It was only a few hours later that morning—the real morning—when Gibbs walked back into the kitchen to get his morning coffee. By some miracle, he had slept well, and he felt like there was no caffeine left in his system. Taking out a new cup, he nearly dropped it when Tony spoke from behind him.

"I think maybe you should drink and eat some more vitamins instead of coffee all the time."

"DiNozzo..." Gibbs growled. Filling his cup with fresh coffee, he joined Tony behind the kitchen table. "Where's..?"

"Went back to sleep a couple of hours ago. There's some breakfast in the fridge, but it's cold though."

"Hmh..." Gibbs mumbled, and stared at the photo albums on the kitchen table. Tony was leafing through one of them with a smile on his face. "Is that..? DiNozzo..."

Tony had a mischievous look on his face, and Gibbs inwardly groaned at all the possible stories his dad more than likely had already shared. "Your dad really wanted to share them with me, and who am I to deny the wish of a kind and sweet old man?"

Gibbs shook his head. He wasn't yet awake enough for this. God knew he could only do two things in his current condition: Be his grumpy self or ignore everything around himself and his cup of coffee... At least the sleep had done him good, and he was way more clear-headed than before. He then wondered something he had been thinking about when it was mentioned last night. "Senior?"

"What..?"

Realizing he had spoken out, Gibbs hesitated. "Things really aren't good between you and your father?"

Tony's eyes darkened for a split second, but then he smiled. It was his 'we are not talking about this' smile. "Nope. I'm sure you know that much from the fact alone that he disowned me, and whatever other juicy little details you managed to get from my background search. But it's fine. It's in the past now, and I'm over it."

Over it or not, Gibbs, however, was still angry when thinking about it. "He has no right to call himself your parent. No parent should disown a child. An adult, maybe, for a really good reason. A child? Never."

Shrugging his shoulders, Tony knew he was lying to himself as much as he was lying to Gibbs. "Like I said, I'm over it. I have no father."

Gibbs frowned, but he knew neither one of them was ready to open any wounds after last night. Plus, if he wasn't wrong, Tony was the only one who hadn't gone back to sleep.

"I've made some plans for today. When your dad wakes up, I'll go for a little walk..." Tony looked meaningfully at his boss, and Gibbs started to almost panic. He wasn't sure if he was ready to spend too much time alone with his dad. That's why he brought Tony with him. "You'll be fine, boss. You two need to talk things through. For real. I know you. You'll think that some temporary fix will do, but a band-aid can do only so much, trust me. And maybe you do end up yelling and arguing some, but you love him, and he loves you," Tony sang the last part, channeling Barney, even though he'd never even liked that creepy thing.

Gibbs' hand rose, and then it smacked back against the table as he stopped himself from slapping Tony's head. He looked both irritated and frustrated at the same time.

"Sorry, sorry. But really, you'll do fine." Tony almost added that at least the man had a father who did indeed love him and wanted to be in his life. But feeling stupid for even thinking about it, he mentally head-slapped himself.

Feeling a mixture of gratitude and anger for what the young man was going to make him go through, Gibbs tapped Tony's hand with his fingers. It felt almost relief to be doing something with his hand when he was denied the slapping of a head. He desperately wanted to ask if they were going to be okay, but instead it was his usual gruff manner of keeping things as simple as he could, while hoping what he didn't say would still get to the other person. "Truce?"

"For now."

Well, it was a start, Gibbs mused, and he wasn't naive to think that it would be an easy road for either one of them. They were both stubborn and could both be equally bastardish. Only with Tony, it was usually much more subtle and controlled. One might say, it was much scarier than wearing it like some worn-out clothing as Gibbs did, but he did have enough pride left in him to not allow himself to fully admit it.

"By the way... I heard something interesting from Fornell the other day..." Tony suddenly said, with an odd look of amusement mixed with annoyance.

"What..?" Gibbs asked carefully, jealous at the mere thought of his sometimes friend getting too close to his Agent. There was already that other guy—the Marine—whose name he couldn't remember and Isaac and... Who else would be next? And they were all before him...

"He told me how you dumped some half-dead gangster into his arms. Then he told me some other things and... Well, it's a story I'm pretty sure I would love to hear about in more details... Am I wrong, boss?" Tony smiled sweetly, and Gibbs cursed Tobias for ratting him out.

Chapter Text

Timothy McGee scowled at the pile of files on his desk, and he fought against the urge to push them on the floor. If he dared to be honest with himself, the real reason behind his mood was the rest of the team, because it always felt to him as if it was the team and then there was him. The three of them—Gibbs, DiNozzo and Todd—were this very tightly knitted group. As much as Kate had one time reassured him that it had taken a long time for her to be accepted as part of the status quo, and that he should simply be patient and give it some time for them to learn to trust and get to know him, it did little to reassure him.

He had, of course, heard many tales of team Gibbs, before even meeting any of them, but he'd thought most of the stories were exaggerated, as it usually was the case with rumors. In this case, however, many of those rumors were not only true, few were much worse in reality. That worse being his boss, who was not an easy man to work with.

Whenever it was time to go out in the field, McGee was taken along one time out of ten. Even then, he was always with someone else, and they watched his every move like a hawk, always correcting him and never happy with how he did things. Then there was the reaming out their boss loved to do... McGee's ears burned just remembering the last time. And he was always given the most boring and demeaning tasks. He could bet none of the others had to ever go through any of that.

At the moment, he wasn't sure if he was glad to be left behind, or insulted. True, he did his best work behind the computer than in the field, but he was no probie—Okay, so he was still a probie, on paper, but even Abby agreed that he had much more to offer. He couldn't wait for his chance to show them what he was made of... It didn't help that he'd already told people back home about his new job upgrade, so if any of them would show up at work or start asking questions... Well, he didn't need that kind of embarrassment...

As he was thinking about his team, the trio walked in. Tony and Kate were laughing at something, and even the boss had a faint smirk on his lips. While the others sat down behind their desks, Kate winced and started looking for something.

Tony looked at her with sympathy. "Your tooth again?" He opened one of his drawers and tossed a bottle of painkillers for Kate.

"Thanks..." she muttered, and taking few, she tossed the bottle back to Tony.

"How was the case..?" McGee dared to finally ask.

The smile now gone, Tony at least looked at him. "It was... interesting," he answered, but didn't elaborate more, and he was taking out the forms needed to fill out his report.

Almost whenever McGee asked—or rather when he didn't—people told him how wonderful person this Agent DiNozzo was. Funny and good at what he did, made easily friends with even some of the most unexpected people. But for McGee, it seemed to be the complete opposite. The man gave off this cool, professional vibe and kept his distance whenever dealing with their probie, talking about only things related to work. It wasn't as if the man was cruel toward him either, nor treated him somehow badly. If anything, their relationship was entirely by the book workplace relationship. No more and no less. And then once in a while McGee saw the difference, between the man's relationship with him and the rest of the team.

"Tony, man!"

Tony looked up, and his entire face broke into a smile, so bright and happy that McGee's thoughts stopped for a moment. So this was the ultimate difference..? The ultimate difference between how the man treated him, compared to others.

"Jefferson, you dimwit!" Tony jumped up and rushed to hug the stranger. "Long time no see! Looking good."

'Jefferson' shrugged, not looking one bit offended by the name-calling. If anything, his smile widened even more. "Nah. Few more pounds here and there, but could be worse. Have you seen Foster? Now that's something else..."

"No!" Tony gaped. "Foster the beanpole? The guy who could easily eat a week's worth of food all by himself—in a day—and never gain any extra weight? You're kidding right?"

"Nope. But he seems happy and his wife adores him and his love handles, so I guess it's our loss." The man grinned and Tony shook his head, still in awe at whoever this Foster guy was.

Tony turned around to his team. "Boss. Kate." Then he hesitated. "McGee. This is Jefferson. We became cops at the same time. We were frenemies. Boss, it means—"

"I know what it means," Gibbs said gruffly.

As McGee watched and listened to the beginning of storytelling and laughter between the former cops, the rest of the team seemed to forget his existence. Not that they did it on purpose, he hoped, but there simply wasn't anything he could say, or they to him. It was frustrating and awkward, like nothing else. Watching the comradeship play out in front of his eyes, he realized he wanted that. Why did guys like DiNozzo have to be so popular, no matter how old they were? Meanwhile, guys like he, who actually had earned it all, had those same people from school steal all the spotlight again. It wasn't fair. A green monster of envy and bitterness was deeply rooted in his heart then, and McGee swore to prove himself to be better than them all.

Green... McGee wondered, for the second time that day, when had their orange walls been painted green? Even their Director had seemed rather taken aback when he came to work that morning.

- FLASHBACK -

"Sir," Tony said as he walked into the office.

"Agent DiNozzo." Tom closed the files on his desk and looked at the young man expectantly. With Gibbs, he always dreaded what came out of the man's mouth, since more often than not, it was either spitting out frogs or turning into a fire-breathing dragon. With DiNozzo? Well, you never quite knew, but at least you were able to have intelligent conversations with this one.

"So, I was going to do this big prank and all—and trust me no one could've proven it was me, I have my ways—but then I figured for this I might as well ask both your permission and to not reveal it's done with a permission." Tony grinned. "I mean, it is a bit more permanent kind of prank."

"A prank..?" Tom shook his head. Did he just think you never quite knew what to expect with this man in question? That was an understatement.

Tony waved his hand dismissively. "Anyway. I think I would only do everyone a favor anyway. Orange walls? Really? Come on. It's such an eyesore."

"Walls?" Tom repeated weakly.

"I'm going to paint those walls." Seeing the alarmed look, Tony grinned again. "Fear not. I know how to paint a few walls. I've done it before." He then pulled out a paper. "So if I'd do it, I figured I better stick to a color of some kind. Easier too if I want it done fast... Green or blue? Green is the color of balance, harmony, peace, and it's restful... Blue is the color of the mind, soothing, serene, and it's calming..." he finished reading from the paper and looked up. "But it might also look a little cold. What do you think?"

Tom was quiet for a while, long enough for Tony to take that as the answer. "Green," he finally answered, and his Agent's entire face blossomed into a big smile.

"Awesome. Now... What shade of green? I'm thinking something a little more 'earthy'."

Tom nearly groaned when several color examples were slapped on his desk.

Not much of a prank, Tony mused rather unhappily when he heard yet another praise toward the much more likable color scheme, compared to the orange walls from before. Maybe he was losing his touch..? It was now later in the morning and things had become rather quiet and boring, even sleepy. More than once, you could either see or hear someone yawning loudly. It was one of those days when everyone secretly hoped for something to happen. Anything to kill that mood.

Suddenly, someone cursed out loud. "Who super-glued my bottom drawer?! It's where I keep my—! My... Who super-glued my drawer?!"

People were snickering, and Tony smirked. Oh yes, he'd seen those magazines... It was the man's own fault for bringing such things to work. The young Agent was also McGee 2.0. so that was supposed to help some. It didn't.

Another yell, and some heavy cursing, was soon heard. "Who super-glued my coffee cup on the desk?!" The person sounded very close to throwing a fit, as would probably any coffee addict going through withdrawal. When Tony glanced toward her and he smirked slightly. She had her mouth on—more like in—the cup, trying to drink the coffee that way. It didn't work once the coffee was too far for both her mouth and tongue to reach.

Soon enough, there happened numerous other super-glue incidents. All nothing serious, if anything, the things glued were the things distracting those people from their work, and never twice to the same person, but it was still frustrating to those it happened to.

Gibbs gave Tony a long, hard stare until the young man looked at him. He raised his eyebrow in question, but Tony shrugged and looked innocent as a newborn baby.

All in all, Tony barely even reacted to the pranks happening around them. It had been supposed to help him 'scratch the itch', but while it was amusing at first, the itch was back stronger than ever. "It's just not quite the same..." he muttered quietly and feeling more bored than ever. Either he needed a case to focus all his nervous energy on or something else to get rid of this boredom and... Well, to distract him somehow.

Looking at McGee, Tony had to hold back a sigh. It was surprisingly hard, acting as if he didn't care about the probie. No more than as someone he just happened to work with. It also meant there hadn't been any pranks either... True, the man's ability to work in the field was rather... questionable at best, and they'd never been actual friends even in the other life, but he had cared about the man. It was his greatest weakness, caring too much about people, even the ones who wouldn't shed a tear if he died.

At least things had calmed down between him and Gibbs. After the visit to Stillwater, things had been relatively well, whatever that meant. Although the dreams were still tormenting him, but other than that the cases came and went, which was becoming increasingly frustrating as more often than not he'd already worked on them 'before'... It was all so very frustrating and made the itch for pranks—or wanting to quote movie quotes—even stronger...

Somewhere, a guy screamed like a girl when he opened his drawer and out came a cloud of confetti. He was one of those people who would start shooting at anything that moved if he wasn't prepared for it beforehand. The probie among the probies... His reaction now was to grab his gun and nearly start shooting. Thankfully, he recovered from his surprise in time.

"Andres! What is wrong with you?!" the man's boss roared. "Put that away!"

Tony sighed sadly. Yep. It just was not the same...

The next morning, the mood had improved greatly, and Tony was even smiling more widely. Walking in the bullpen, he was just in time to hear Kate arranging her dentist appointment, much as she hated it.

"I'm sure you'll be fine," he said, wincing with her.

Kate shook her head carefully. "I hate this so much."

"Well... Don't forget to go this time."

Kate glared at him, even giving the evil eye. Tony could forgive that, knowing the pain had to be terrible. He gave her the bottle of pills, knowing she'd be needing them again later.

When Gibbs arrived with the case, that was meant to be a test for McGee—the one that he would fail, even if he did figure out a few things afterward, for a while—Tony was hit by another dilemma. What should he do? McGee needed to learn, but on the other hand, this was another life that could possibly be saved... By the time their probie was leaving, looking awfully pleased, Tony had made up his mind.

"Boss." The boss looked at him with a look that said, 'I haven't had enough coffee yet, so talk fast,' and Tony almost winced. "Never mind."

Gibbs felt guilty, but when Tony didn't go back to explaining what was on his mind, he nodded. "You know you can trust me, right..?"

Tony forced a smile onto his face. "Yeah." But he didn't feel like talking anymore. The moment was gone. Much as they were working on their relationship, many things between them were still not quite there yet. Not for the first time, he wished things would be, if not easy, easier.

McGee's meeting with Erin Kendall went as one would expect, which was him becoming too 'buddy buddy' with her, forgetting to keep personal and work separate. And he wasn't even working undercover, where the danger of forgetting the job was actually present—aka Jeanne Benoit—but that was a whole another can of worms. Looking back, nothing about that case had been right, nor was it done well. Not to mention how, at the time, Tony hadn't been in a good enough place to go playing those games anyway... Perfect for Jenny to use him.

One thing was different this time. For some reason, this probie was even more determined to 'prove' himself, an almost overbearing with his need to prove that he was right and could do this. While Tony knew the most likely outcome of the case, it was still a bit too much, and he couldn't help but wonder if the 'not being fully a part of the team' had something to do with it. But then, it wasn't like the younger man needed his approval. Either he was one of them or he wasn't.

Tony knew all too well what it was like to be a part of a team for years—longer than anyone apart from Gibbs—only to suddenly not be one of them. So he couldn't quite understand those sour looks thrown his way now and then. If anything, the man had it good. No pranks, no extra attention from the SFA, who was never respected as one in the other life. Things were now strictly professional.

Keeping things professionally distant wasn't appreciated, but when Tony tried to give some friendly 'pointers' and push the younger man toward the right direction, so that he could indeed 'prove his worth', McGee had somehow managed to take it as an insult of some kind. So, finally, Tony had no other choice but hide in the shadows like some creep, and stop the killer from murdering Erin. That raised a new kind of problem, which he hadn't needed.

Since it had been such a close call, Erin got all weepy and needed to be comforted, which, of course, had to be when McGee finally made it to them. Somehow it was twisted into jealousy and thoughts that Tony had done it all on purpose, to 'get the girl'. Ironically, the probie wasn't entirely wrong. After all, Tony had indeed gone there on purpose, to stop the death from happening and McGee having to carry that guilt. But none of it had anything to do with wanting to get the girl.

It was what it was, and few angry private words had been exchanged, but all they could do now was close the case that had left both men feeling frustrated. Tony, because it seemed he could only bring out the worst in some people. And McGee, because he didn't get the chance to shine and be the one saving the girl.

At least Abby seemed happier now that Erin wasn't around anymore... And speaking of Abby, for some reason she had given up permanent hair dye and was now carrying quite proudly her natural blonde hair color. The relationship with her wasn't quite there to be fixed yet either, but Tony had given up. If she wished for it, then she had to make the first, real, move toward it and accept that there would be no quick fixing, but hard work. Probably even quite painful at times.

Later, things were seemingly the calm after the storm. But as McGee started typing on his computer, he realized something was wrong. He couldn't get his fingers off the keyboard... And as he kept trying to pull his fingers free, he finally had the attention from the rest of the team.

"You have a problem?" Gibbs growled, looking rather annoyed as usual.

"I... I can't get my fingers off..." McGee almost whispered. He looked around nervously. "I think... I think someone put super-glue on my keyboard..."

"You think?" Gibbs raised a brow. From the corner of his eye, he observed his Second, who was looking amused, but innocent as usual.

"Well... Yeah... I mean... Because of those incidents from before and... I can't remove my fingers from this..!"

Gibbs nearly rolled his eyes and took out a bottle from his drawer. A nail polish remover. Why he had that, no one dared to ask.

As Tony watched his boss help their wide-eyed probie, he dared to smirk. Oh, yes... This was more like it... Small, not quite, payback was the perfect excuse and also soothed some of the hurt he was still feeling...

"DiNozzo. Wait. I'm almost done." Gibbs looked up from his paperwork. It was clear that he was struggling, since they'd been just given yet more paperwork to do, thanks to someone who thought it made solving crimes easier, or had something against putting criminals away. Either way, it was going to become even more ridiculous in the future.

For a moment, Tony felt sorry for Gibbs and wondered if he should have started doing the man's paperwork next to his own, but he shook off that thought. He couldn't spoil them this time. Once in a while was fine, for a good enough reason, but not when he knew his boss could do it. Or you know, should know how to do it. Remembering again just how much worse the paperwork would become, Tony felt kind of sorry for the old man... Oh, he could foresee many moments of frustration and anger over them...

It was so close that Tony had almost fallen back into that familiar pattern. His first year working with Gibbs, and one day the boss had had enough of paperwork and dropped it on Tony's desk. By the time the older man was back from his lengthy coffee break, he had found all the files back on his own desk. Other than what was needed to move the papers from one desk to another, the papers remained untouched. Gibbs had glared hard, but from that day on he hadn't tried to push his own work for his SFA to do.

"I'm a big boy, boss. I think I can handle going home on my own," Tony pointed out. Gibbs had lately become like a leech again. Stuck on him wherever he went to, or then it was Kate when the boss couldn't be there. Quite frankly, he couldn't stand this anymore.

"DiNozzo..." Gibbs frowned. There were deep lines of worry on his face. There hadn't been so many before Tony came into his life, and his gray hair had lost what little color it still used to have.

McGee seemed, as usual, baffled by the whole relationship between the two, but Kate observed the two men with amusement shining in her eyes. She had learned by now that no one stated out loud what kind of relationship these two men had. It was some kind of unwritten rule. One she didn't quite understand. Men... Probably.

"Oh, come on, boss... Fine. I'll wait for you by the car then." Tony rolled his eyes and left the bullpen, muttering something about his overbearing boss.

Kate waited until Tony was gone before she said, "You know... I kind of agree with him. He's a grown man, with a gun."

Gibbs glared and removed the much hated glasses he was forced to wear. "Go after him."

"Did you listen to me at all?"

"Kate, please..."

Not because he ordered her, but because he never told her 'please', Kate got up and went, muttering something quietly.

Gibbs stared after her with a frown. His mind was telling him that they were both right, he was going too far with his behavior, but lately his gut had started giving him warning signals again, and he couldn't ignore it anymore...

Meanwhile, Tony was walking to his car, which was right next to Gibbs' car. He cursed the way Gibbs had gone from being Gibbs to this worrywart he didn't even know how to deal with... And he doubted Ziva and her ilk would make another appearance anytime soon either... Right now, the only thing to truly worry about would be Voltolini, who had become quiet once more. He was kind of angry that Gibbs had made those men stop following him. At least before he had some kind of idea where the man or one of his people were. Now? He had no idea. Not knowing was the worst possible situation. Then again, knowing wasn't so great either...

It wasn't a sound or that he saw anything, but suddenly he felt the presence of someone behind him. Normally, he would put it down to one of the other agents going home, but he felt the hairs on his neck stand up. His hand moved quickly toward his holster.

"Don't or I'll shoot you." The voice was familiar, but it didn't make any sense. Moving his hand away from his gun, Tony turned around slowly.

Chapter Text

"Bang." The man laughed at his own joke. "I'm disappointed, Junior. Had I been carrying a gun, you would be dead already. Then again, you never were much good at anything you did. From your failed sports career to choosing to become a cop, of all things, and always jumping from one place to another. It's not surprising if you're not much to talk about, even as some Agent. And what is NCIS anyway? At least you should've chosen something people can recognize."

"Dad." Tony stared at the old man, who thankfully had no weapon. Unless one counted the razor-sharp tongue, the venom that could be pouring out of the mouth, and the sharp, calculating mind. He was very careful to not show any of his real feelings outwardly, since the man would only soak it all up and turn it into a psychological weapon. Either way, Tony's blood pressure was still far too close to the roof. "What are you doing here? How?"

Apparently the FBI hadn't been able to keep his father locked away this time either, and Tony wondered just what kind of trick the old man had pulled out of his sleeve this time, or who walked with their pockets heavier now. No wonder the man ended up broke, with the way he kept throwing money around, thinking his schemes would never fail him. He would make sure to find out what kind of fool had allowed the man anywhere near the Navy Yard. Near him.

Senior leaned against his son's car and studied the young man he hadn't seen in years. "How? I'm your father, Junior. Of course I'm here. All I had to do was pull out the charm, pull a few heartstrings, and I got in." He patted at his visitor's badge. "As for what I'm doing here, I figured we could go to your place or for a little ride and I will explain." Senior looked displeased, which was his default emotion around his son. "I decided to wait by your car, but I didn't realize you would make me wait for such a long time."

There was no way he would willingly let the old conman find out where he lived. "Dad, please... I was working." And since he seemed to have a death wish of some kind, Tony added: "It's a word that I know you're not familiar with, but you can look up the definition from the dictionary."

"Watch your mouth, boy. If I were you, I would be very careful what I say."

Tony smiled humorlessly as he was no longer intimidated by his old man, as he would've been 'before'. Of course, that still didn't mean he enjoyed his company. "You should watch your own actions. There are cameras here, if you weren't aware."

Senior's eyes narrowed, and he glanced quickly around, as if truly only then realizing things wouldn't be as private there as he probably had hoped for. Seeing no cameras, although they were there if he'd looked carefully enough, he moved forward and grabbed Tony's arm and started pulling him toward the car. "Where are your keys?"

"What?" Tony struggled against the hold. "I'm not going anywhere with you." He could've easily enough put his training for some good use to get away, but he didn't have to.

"Hey! Let go of him!" It was Kate. Tony was both cursing her arrival and feeling grateful for not having to be alone with Senior anymore.

Senior turned around and looked at her appraisingly. "Is she your—?"

"No," Tony denied quickly, before his father could utter anything embarrassing. He almost forgot his arm was still being held in the man's grip.

Kate, figuring she should try to show this stranger that she was being serious, pulled out her weapon and repeated, harshly, "Let go of him. Now."

Senior scoffed, but at least he finally let go. The look that he now gave her was both appraising and the one of utmost disrespect and displeasure. Senior didn't voice his thoughts—no doubt because the woman was armed—but Tony could still pretty much hear what his father was thinking, and it made him almost visibly cringe. If people thought he was a womanizer, they had never met his father. Or at least not when he wasn't wearing one of his many masks.

Only barely keeping himself from rubbing his arm, Tony shot a quick, grateful smile to Kate, before he schooled his features again and turned to look at his father again. "Leave and don't come back. I don't know how you weaseled your way in here, since I thought I made sure you wouldn't be able to, but I'll make sure to find out who made this happen."

"Junior..."

"I don't want to hear it, dad," Tony snapped, and even without seeing he could sense Kate's shock and surprise. "You and I have said all we had to say to each other, years ago. You did anyway. You cut me off. Guess what? I cut off you as well. You might as well marry again and have another son or, I don't know, find out if you have a few bastards out there and acknowledge them. I bet one of them could be everything you ever wanted."

"Don't," Kate warned when the old man made a threatening move toward her partner.

"We will talk, Junior." Narrowing his eyes, Senior finally walked away.

"Don't hold your breath, Senior."

The silence after that was awkward, and Kate finally put away her gun, although her hand kept hovering near it for a while. "So... That was your..?"

"Yep."

"Oh..." She had no idea what else to say. Especially knowing just how private person her partner was with all things... private.

"Yep." He rubbed his arm again. Man, did the old man even now have that iron grip... "Thanks for... You know."

"Of course. I'm..." Kate closed her mouth. Sorry somehow didn't seem quite right either.

"Don't. He's not worth wasting your brain cells for. He is what he is. I've learned to live with it."

The look in her eyes became sad and something very close to pity and man didn't that make things even more unpleasant for him. "You shouldn't have to..."

Tony shook his head. He really didn't want to talk about it, nor did he want her pity. "So, I guess I can't get you to agree not to mention this to the boss?"

Kate did a rather impressive impression of Gibbs, raised eyebrow and everything. "Oh, I don't know about that... I mean, it's your private life, so it's your business, but if your father brings you more trouble... I don't know..." She stared at the arm, which he still kept rubbing, and realizing that he was doing it, he stopped. "But I think you should tell Gibbs."

"I'll think about it..."

"Hmhm..."

"Fine. I'll actually really think about it." Tony rolled his eyes. He then suddenly realized why Kate was there. "Wait. Did Gibbs send you?"

"Well..."

Tony groaned. Great. Well, it had proved to be a good thing this time, but come on. At this rate, he wouldn't be able to even go to the bathroom alone. Thank you, Senior.

"He's only worrying and, I hate to admit, this time he was right. Gut feelings and all." Kate stared at her partner silently for a moment. "All right. Strip." She regretted it almost as soon as the word was out.

"Why, Kate, I had no idea..." Tony wiggled his eyebrows with a wide grin. "Didn't think you'd ever ask."

"Oh, cut it. Your shirt. Take it off. I need to see your arm." She could've, of course, just asked to roll up the sleeve, but knowing Tony, she wanted to make sure nothing else had been done to him before she arrived.

The bravado and amusement was gone and Tony studied just how serious she was being, which was very. "It's nothing, Kate. Seriously. The old bastard just has such an iron grip, it honestly feels like he could cut off the blood circulation if he so wants. Throws a weak punch, but that grip is something else."

"The shirt, DiNozzo. Off."

Tony groaned and started thinking a whole list of things to say about it when Kate grabbed his shirt and started pulling it off.

- DREAM REALITY FLASHBACK -

Tony didn't know it at the time, but it was probably their last moment together, and Gibbs looking at him with an almost soft look in his eyes. Things had already been bad for a long time by then, but this moment had meant everything to him, which was why Tony had trusted one last time that Gibbs did still care, and they could fix things.

He wasn't even sure why he was there now, walking down the stairs, rubbing his slightly sprained wrist and bruised knuckles, and listening to the radio playing in the background and the sounds of the man working on his boat number... He didn't even know which boat it was. He hadn't been in the house for a while now.

Why he was here now, it could be because the goldfish Kate was dead, again. Really, it wasn't even the original fish, but it still hurt each time. Silly thing like that... Whatever the reason, but after the drunken phone call from his dear old dad, Tony didn't feel like he was in his right mind anyway. It was strange how he always seemed to almost forget how deep Senior could cut with his words, especially when he'd taken too many and decided that 'Junior' needed to be put back to his deserved place. After all these years, why was he still so hurt each time it happened..? When would he learn to guard his own heart, first? The loyal St. Bernard always went back for more. Hoping for kindness, he always ended up beaten even more.

"DiNozzo." Gibbs looked up from his boat and there was a strange look in his eyes, one Tony didn't quite recognize, not that he was trying too hard. He also realized that after all these years, he still didn't know how the boss got his boats out of the basement. Maybe he never did and simply liked to play on the whole mystery thing and keep people on their toes, which was the man's favorite hobby apparently, next to making both his and their life miserable.

Studying the old man silently for a while, Tony realized once again just how flawed the man was. How... human. Had he really once thought the man could will the impossible to happen if he so wanted? Rule the world and move the mountains, when in reality the truth was the complete opposite. "Sorry, I know it's late, but..."

Gibbs stared still, until he finally nodded and went back to work, waiting for the younger man to speak out whatever it was he had come there for, a rare occurrence nowadays. He had to wait almost half an hour before another word came out of his strangely quiet Agent.

"Am I a waste of space?" Tony immediately hated himself for speaking it out.

Gibbs froze and looked up with a confused frown. "Why would you..?"

Tony stared at his hands and chuckled. "My... My dad called me and... It doesn't matter..." Not to mention how he lately indeed felt like he was a waste of space around certain people, like Gibbs himself, the team and... Tony looked up, feeling tormented, while a part of him was angry that such words still got to him, and they cut him deep. "Am I?"

"Tony..." The boss rarely used the first name anymore... Gibbs put down the tools and although he hesitated, he walked closer, and then hesitating some more, he sat down next to Tony—who tensed—on the staircase. "No. Of course you're not. Your father is a fool, that's all." He didn't sound too convincing, but to be fair, it was hard to tell what went through the man's head in these days.

"Are you sure about that?"

"Don't make me smack you." Gibbs stood and, thankfully, instead of doing it, he walked away to rummage through something.

"What?" Tony stared when his boss returned, holding out something in his hands. It was a pocket watch. "Boss?"

"Was going to give this to you a while ago, but... Things have been..." Gibbs sounded gruff, and when Tony didn't make a move to accept the watch, Gibbs took the man's hand and made him accept it. "It's yours."

Tony was swallowing something, tears maybe. The weight and coldness of the antique pocket watch in his near trembling hand was doing things to his insides that most certainly were not very macho at all. "Boss... I can't take something like this..."

"Take it. It's been in my family since... And I've got no..." Gibbs looked strangely lost. "I want you to have it. Please."

If Tony was holding that watch close to his chest, his boss didn't mention it. "Thank you."

"Oh and, DiNozzo... You better take good care of it or I'll kick your ass," Gibbs warned without much heat, and Tony smiled.

"I will..."

It was their last moment. And maybe, had Tony known, he would've treasured it more. Or perhaps he would've run screaming. He would never know.

"What happened?" Gibbs stopped and stared at his two agents standing next to Tony's car. Although Tony was wearing only a white tank top and Kate had her hands all over him, his arm actually, somehow there was nothing even remotely sexual about the situation. Plus, he had seen the painful grimace on the young man's face, which was gone as soon as they heard their boss.

"Nothing," Tony said and flashed a quick smile. Before he could take his shirt and put it back on, Gibbs was already there with few quick strides and, without much consideration, pushing Kate away, he took Tony's arm in his.

"What's this? What happened?" He was sounding rather snappish, but the fingers moving over the already forming bruises were gentle. From the corner of his eye, Gibbs saw his two agents having a silent conversation with their eyes, or their expressions, really. Finally, Kate almost glared and Tony rolled his eyes, and sighed.

"My dad happened."

Gibbs looked up sharply and glanced around. "He was here? What did he want? Is he still around?"

"No idea. I sent him away before... Well, Kate and I sent him away." Tony grinned all too gleefully.

"All right... Come on. I think Ducky is still at work—"

"Oh come on..!" Tony protested loudly and finally pulled away and put his shirt back on. "It's just some bruises. Nothing is bleeding or broken. I've had worse from being hit by a punching bag." He grinned. "I've had worse from a sparring with Kate."

"Watch it, Tony."

Gibbs frowned, but he made up his mind then and there to look up DiNozzo Senior and keep his eyes on the man. What little he knew of the man, he didn't like this, even without his gut feeling agreeing with him... Better watch out, bastard... You lay one finger on him, I'll break it, he muttered in his mind. When Tony looked at him oddly, Gibbs wondered for a moment if he had spoken it out loud.

"Come on then... Let's go home. My home," Gibbs said before Tony could think otherwise. "I doubt there's anything you can put on that arm at your place. Unless you want to go see Ducky..."

Tony sighed, knowing full well he had hardly anything to even eat at his home. The curse of the job. "Fine... But no Ducky."

Gibbs didn't promise anything, and Kate held back a smile at the narrowed glare Tony threw at the older man.

Chapter Text

Tony had just sat down to enjoy his moment of peace, that short moment between work and nothingness. Usually, it meant he'd be watching a movie or playing his piano, trying to clear his head and not think about crime scenes for a while, or if something was troubling him more than usual. Today, it was not thinking about his father and what it meant that he showed up now. It wasn't a good combination to drink while thinking about his dear old dad who loved his drink, but Tony decided that one beer couldn't hurt.

He had just made himself comfortable when the doorbell rang. Of course, Gibbs wouldn't take no for an answer. Of course, the man wouldn't allow him a moment of peace, not so much as one night. With a frustrated groan, Tony set the bottle on the coffee table and pushed himself up from the couch. He made his way slowly to the door, using that time to rehearse his speech to the man, before opening the door, foolishly without checking first who it was. "Boss, I told you I'd be fine—dad."

"Hello, Junior," Senior grunted, and then flashed his bright smile at his dumbstruck son.

"How... How did you find me?"

"Who do you think I am? Now, are you going to let me in, or do I have to cause a scene in front of your neighbors for leaving your poor old father to spend the night outside?"

Tony gritted his teeth. It never did any good to be reminded just how and why he was so good with those undercover works, so good at playing different roles with such ease. "All right, talk," he ordered once he let the old man inside, feeling the urge to scream. When he turned around, there was an all too familiar look on his father's face.

- FLASHBACK -

His father was smiling. Tony felt his body react to it without a thought. Very early on, he had learned that most people found his father's smile nice, and it even made most relax and lower down their natural cautiousness, even when they didn't know the man yet. Perhaps it was because he had grown around the man—more or less—learned the danger and falseness behind that smile, because Tony was never fooled.

"Junior, come here."

Tony swallowed and slowly made his way closer, knowing that while whatever was waiting for him wasn't good, running would only make things much worse. That he'd learned the hard way. At the same time, however, he was still yearning for his father's attention. But then, he was still just a child, a ten-year-old. He'd spent his birthday making wishes he'd never dare utter out loud. Things he'd want to do, want to be when he would grow up. Foolish things, for sure. His father would never allow him his freedom to choose.

"I have a friend who would like to meet you." His father didn't have friends. At least not what Tony had learned a friend meant. "He is very interested in you."

Tony wanted to ask, but he'd learned to keep his silence. His back straight, but not too straight. Submissive, but not too much because whatever he was, he was still a DiNozzo. Eyes not quite on the floor, but no looking in the eye either. Silent; answer only when spoken to. Unless stated otherwise, only answer yes or no. There were many other rules, but those were the basics.

"He has a daughter, and we have decided that marrying you two would benefit both families." It would benefit the business, not the family. Tony knew that, since he'd also learned not too long ago what a family meant. Or the two definitions of it. Family by blood and family by choice. "They will join us for dinner." They never ate dinner together, unless his father could benefit from it somehow. "When they arrive, you will behave like a well-mannered DiNozzo heir. You have new clothes in your room, wear them. Do not disappoint me."

"Yes, father. I mean, no, father." Tony dared to frown, confused as he was of what would be the correct answer.

His father scoffed. "I mean it, Junior. Do not disappoint me, or we will have a word about it later."

Tony tried his hardest not to shiver at the underlying threat.

His father was smiling. Tony felt his body react to it without a thought. Stiff and already mentally preparing himself for whatever it was.

"There is a man I want you to meet."

"Dad. No."

"Junior," Senior warned. "He is willing to do business with me, but unfortunately, he is a family man and wishes to meet my son first. He has a daughter, and the union between you two would benefit both families." Senior looked at his son darkly. "I need this to work out. I mean it this time. I need the money, Junior. Do not disappoint me."

Unlike that one time—and whenever Senior thought he could benefit from trading his child for some money—Tony no longer was a young boy, unable to defend himself. He made sure to stand tall and straight, to show with his body just how much he'd surpassed the older DiNozzo. "The answer is an obvious no. I'm not your slave, a puppet, an old pair of shoes or whatever else you can use when it suits you and then toss away like yesterday's trash. I'm not your son. Remember? That was actually the only good thing you ever did to me, disowning me. It forced me to learn how to survive and how to live without you controlling my every move, so thanks for that."

"Is that your final word?"

"Listen to me carefully." Tony took a breath. Despite everything, he'd still been calling the man his father, dad or Senior. Sir at best. But he'd never actively called him by his name. Partly because they shared it, so it simply felt too strange. But then also because perhaps deep down he'd still always hoped that... So hoped... "Anthony," he finally said with some difficulty, but made sure it didn't show. Senior looked at him oddly. "I have no father. I'm not your son. You and I have no obligations to each other. It's been working well so far, let's keep it that way."

Senior tightened his lips and then finally, "I know you have money. You really think I wasn't aware of it? That money belonged to me and my wife, until you were born. You owe me."

"You actually have the nerve... Get out."

"You owe me!"

"Out!"

"You will regret this, Junior. Mark my words, you will," Senior promised after he was forcibly pushed outside the apartment and just before the door was shut in front of his nose. Tony felt some regret it didn't hit the nose. Thankfully, no big scene happened for his neighbors to witness.

"I won't. I never will," Tony promised to himself. But perhaps—with the threat in mind and since Senior made no idle threats—he should call Gibbs and let the man know what happened, just in case... Then again, the boss would demand that he go back to the man's place anyway, so...