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Chapter Text

germankitty's art post is HERE.

Dialogue from s7e01 Truth or Consequences:

Tony: I’m the wildcard. I’m the guy who looks at the reality in front of him and refuses to accept it. Like, right now I should be terrified, right? But I’m not, ‘cause I just can’t stop thinking about the movie True Lies, when Arnie’s strapped to the chair and shot full of truth serum, and he picks his cuffs and kills everybody… you have thirty seconds to live, Saleem. 

Saleem: You’re still bound. You’re lying. 

Tony: I can’t lie. And I didn’t say I was gonna be the one to kill you. Remember when I told you my boss was a sniper?

Guilt is perhaps the most painful companion of death.  ~Coco Chanel

As soon as Tony uttered the word ‘sniper,’ Saleem reflexively glanced at the window, then took a step toward Ziva. 

The glass shattered as the bullet smashed through it. It went on to hit Saleem, who went down. 

Tony grinned at Ziva, and McGee began to move from his position on the ground behind her, but then Saleem groaned and struggled to his feet, one hand to the side of his head where the bullet had grazed it. 

Tony’s jaw dropped, shocked that the man was still alive. Ziva stared wide-eyed at Saleem, then looked at Tony. McGee froze. 

Saleem pulled his hand from the side of his head and looked at the blood on it. He shot Tony a vicious grin, then dropped the gun from his right hand, shifted the knife he’d picked up from the ground after McGee’s attack to that hand, grabbed Ziva by the hair, and sliced through her neck, all in one smooth motion, stopping only when the second bullet hit him square in the temple and he went down a second time. 

Tony screamed Ziva’s name. Blood erupted from her neck, spattering Tony’s shirt, then cascaded down from the gaping wound. Her eyes met his, then closed as her body settled against the back of the chair and her head slumped forward, her hair forming a curtain that blocked his view of the damage done to her. 

He stared at Ziva, silent, adrenaline overriding the serum Saleem had injected. He was vaguely aware of McGee climbing to his feet and stumbling toward them. “Ziva? Tony, is Ziva okay?”

Tony couldn’t answer. He couldn’t even yell when one of Saleem’s men appeared in the doorway. McGee didn’t notice, but he did flinch when a third bullet came through the broken window and took the man down. 

McGee moved forward, bending over and lifting Ziva’s head. The motion caused more blood to flow, and for the first time McGee saw the blood soaking her clothes, the chair, and dripping to the floor. “Oh, no… no, no, not Ziva! No!” He backed away until he hit the wall and stayed there, leaning against it as he stared at Ziva, tears running down his face, whispering ‘no’ over and over again. 

Tony could hear yelling and shooting taking place elsewhere in the building, but it seemed very far away. The sound of Ziva’s blood dripping to the floor seemed so much louder. 

Time passed; he couldn’t tell how much. 

Then Gibbs was there, in his ghillie suit, holding his rifle in one hand. He looked at Ziva, standing there for a long moment, then gently checked for a pulse at her wrist. Tony registered the sheen of moisture in Gibbs’ eyes, the pain and grief before they were shuttered away. Gibbs stood, turned away to walk the few steps to where McGee still leaned against the wall. He carefully laid his rifle on the ground next to the younger man, and took out a knife to cut the zip-tie binding his wrists. 

McGee looked at Gibbs. “Boss?” His tone was pleading, but Tony couldn’t tell what McGee was asking for. 

Gibbs pocketed the knife and reached up to grip McGee’s shoulders. Tony vaguely registered that Gibbs said something, but he didn’t know what it was. He returned his full attention to Ziva. 

Then Gibbs was there, next to him, pulling out his knife again and cutting the ties binding him to the chair, then returning the knife to its hiding place. “You hurt, Tony?”

Tony didn’t answer. He couldn’t look away from Ziva, and he knew if he started speaking, he likely wouldn’t be able to stop. 

"Tony, look at me.”

Tony continued to stare at Ziva. A small voice inside his head warned him that if he looked away, he’d have to look back, and then it would be real. ‘Of course it’s real,’ he thought, but he still couldn’t shift his gaze. 

“Tony! Come on, look away. Nothing you can do for her now.”

Shaking his head, still staring at Ziva, Tony spoke. “My fault, Boss, my fault. Said the wrong thing, or said the right thing but at the wrong time. Maybe didn’t say enough. Couldn’t keep him in place… my job, keep him in place, a target, keep him away from Tim, then Ziva, she was alive. She was here. Now she’s not. My fault…” 

His voice faded as he continued to stare. He vaguely registered McGee saying, “Ulman injected him with some sort of truth serum, Boss.”

“Tony.” Gibbs' voice was strong, steady, everything it should be. “Tony, not your fault. You did everything right.”

Tony shook his head again. “No. I killed her.”

“No, you didn’t,” Gibbs said gently. “It wasn’t you, Tony. Ulman killed her. It’s not your fault.”

Tears finally trickled down Tony’s face. “My fault. Wasn’t smart enough, wasn't fast enough, wasn’t good enough.”

Gibbs gripped Tony’s shoulders. ‘My turn,’ Tony thought inanely. Then Gibbs spoke again, quietly, his tone gentle, with a catch in his voice that shocked Tony out of his tunnel vision and made him look at the man. “No, Tony. My fault. I missed the shot.”

Tony stared at him, the tears coming faster. He scrutinized Gibbs’ face, seeing the sincerity and the grief, though there were no tears. “We killed her,” he said quietly. 

Gibbs shook his head, but didn’t say anything else, just wrapped Tony in a hug that ended so quickly Tony wasn’t sure it happened. 

“Boss?” McGee said, “Ziva?”

Gibbs nodded, squeezing Tony’s shoulder before he straightened up, pulling out the knife again, cutting her bonds, gently steadying her to keep her from falling to the ground. McGee moved forward, handing Gibbs’ rifle to Tony, who took it automatically and sat there watching, tears running down his face but making no sound, while Gibbs and McGee lifted Ziva from the chair, Gibbs gently cradling the back of her head. They laid her down away from the blood on the floor, away from Ulman. 

Several Marines appeared at the door just as Gibbs laid a hand against Ziva’s cheek. “Building’s secure, Gunny.”

Gibbs nodded, his eyes on Ziva. “We need a body bag.”

“Yes, sir.”

Gibbs remained crouched over Ziva’s body, his hand now resting on her hair. McGee stood, his arms hanging loosely at his side, head bowed, silent. 

Tony continued to stare. 

The Marines returned with the body bag, laying it on the ground next to Ziva. 

“We’ll do it,” Gibbs told them. He looked at McGee as he stood, moving next to Ziva’s head. McGee nodded, taking a few steps to stand at her feet.

“Wait.” Tony stood abruptly, the rifle in one hand. Gibbs and McGee both looked at him as he took a few steps forward, next to Gibbs. He held out the rifle, and Gibbs took it. 

Tony knelt next to her. “I’m sorry, Zee. So sorry.” He reached out to touch her hair and cup her face with his palm. 

Time seemed to stand still again; then one of the Marines cleared his throat, and Tony drew back, standing and taking the rifle from Gibbs’ hands, watching as he and McGee moved Ziva’s body into the bag, both hesitating for a moment before zipping it closed. 

Gibbs rose, looking from one agent to the other. “Let’s take her home.”

Tony stepped forward, again holding the rifle out to Gibbs, who looked him in the eye before nodding once and taking the weapon. Tony glanced at McGee, then bent over to grasp the body bag at Ziva’s head, lifting easily while McGee lifted her feet. They carried her out of the room, stumbling frequently, Gibbs following as the Marines moved in to deal with the remains of Saleem Ulman. 

Chapter Text

Leon Vance sat at his desk and stared at the phone. He’d heard from the mission commander over twenty minutes ago. Target down, camp cleared, no military casualties. Twelve dead, eleven of them Ulman and his people. Vance hadn’t been able to get a straight answer as to whether the remaining one was an NCIS agent. He’d been waiting to hear from Gibbs ever since. The return flight had taken off roughly an hour before he’d gotten the call; the longer he waited, the more concerned he became that Gibbs was the casualty - even though Gibbs’ role as a sniper made that highly unlikely.

He ran different scenarios through his head. If Gibbs had lost either DiNozzo or McGee, it was quite possible, probable actually, that he wouldn’t be in any shape to provide an update. Vance grimaced at the thought.

His intercom buzzed. “Director, I have Agent Gibbs on line one.”

Vance sighed in relief. “Patch him through.” He paused for a moment. “Gibbs? How’s your team?”

Gibbs’ voice came through clearly; Vance’s first impression was that the man was tired. “We’re alright, Director.”

“Good. I heard Ulman's been taken down.”

“Yes. But we lost someone.”

Vance’s brow furrowed. “No military casualties. Your team is good. Who?”

“Ziva.”

“What?!”

“Ziva. She was Ulman’s captive. We didn’t know until Ulman brought her in as leverage to get DiNozzo to talk.”

“What the hell happened?”

Gibbs ignored the question. “Her father sent her on a suicide mission.”

“Gibbs–”

“Thought you should know, Leon. Director David will be in touch when he hears Ulman’s been neutralized.” 

Vance leaned an elbow on the desk and rubbed his eyes. “What do we know about how long she’d been there?”

“Nothing. No chance to find out before Ulman took her out.” Gibbs paused, then continued. “We’re bringing her home.”

“Gibbs, her father–”

“We’re already in the air. Can’t change it now.”

“I suppose you’re right,” Vance growled. He sighed. “I’ll inform Doctor Mallard and Ms. Sciuto.”

“Better let me do that, Leon.”

“Won’t Doctor Mallard insist on performing the autopsy?”

“I’m sure he will.”

“Then let’s give him some time to get ready.”

Gibbs sighed. “Alright.”

“How are you holding up, Gibbs?”

There was a pause, then Gibbs said, “DiNozzo and McGee will need a few days.”

“And they’ll get them. But that’s not what I asked.” He waited, but Gibbs didn’t say anything. “I’ll be mandating counseling.”

“Understood.”

“For you too, Gibbs.”

“Leon–”

“I mean it.”

Gibbs let out another sigh. Vance’s brow furrowed at the uncharacteristic sound. Then Gibbs cleared his throat. “Leon… best if I tell Abby.”

“Alright.”

The line went dead. Vance sighed heavily, hung up the phone, then looked at his watch, anticipating hearing from Eli at any moment; the man had contacts everywhere. He tapped his fingers on the surface of his desk; his other hand made an aborted move toward the toothpicks in his jacket pocket. Jackie probably knows exactly how many were in there this morning , he thought, grimacing at the thought of her reaction if she knew he’d been chewing them. 

He stood abruptly, striding to the door. His assistant looked up as it opened and he walked through. “Hold all my calls until I get back,” he said. “If you hear from Director David, tell him I’ll return his call as soon as I can.”

She nodded. “Should I call your security detail?”

He shook his head. “I’ll be in the building.”

Vance made for the elevator and hit the button that would take him to Autopsy. A few minutes later, he was walking through the sliding door, scanning the room for its inhabitants, finding only Dr. Mallard at his desk, getting to his feet. 

“Director! To what do I owe the pleasure?” 

Vance held up a hand, forestalling the medical examiner’s forward motion. “Not a pleasure, I’m afraid, Dr. Mallard.” He gestured toward the desk. “Please, have a seat.”

Ducky examined the Director’s face, then nodded and went back to his chair. Vance reached for another chair, moving it close to Ducky, then unbuttoned his jacket and sat down, hesitating as he searched for a way to break the news. 

“Is it Jethro?” Ducky asked.

Vance shook his head. “I just spoke with Gibbs via sat phone. He’s fine; so are DiNozzo and McGee.” He looked away, narrowing his eyes for a moment, then sighed and looked back at Ducky. “The mission was successful, except for one casualty.” He cleared his throat. “Unbeknownst to us, Ziva David was being held captive at the terrorist compound. I don’t have all the details; Gibbs said she was being used as leverage, then killed before any of our agents could prevent it.”

Ducky stared at Vance, his eyes glistening. He looked away, sighing heavily. “Ah, Ziva… my poor, dear girl.” His eyes closed for a moment before he looked somberly at Vance. “Do we know what arrangements are being made?”

Vance shook his head. “They’re bringing her back now. I expect her father will be in touch shortly and want her sent back to Israel.”

Ducky nodded. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and removed his glasses, reaching up to dab some moisture from the corner of one eye. “Does Abigail know what’s happened?”

“No. Gibbs said he’d tell her.”

“That’s likely for the best. She’ll have many questions that neither of us can answer.” Ducky looked around the room. “Director… as you can see, I have no clients at present. I believe I would prefer some time to grieve at home.”

Vance gave a curt nod and stood. “Take all the time you need. Can Palmer fill in for you if needed?”

Ducky’s head tilted slightly as he thought it over. “He is certainly competent to do some of the initial work on a case, but I do not expect to be out for long, Director… we all thought Ziva perished months ago. My grief is for what could have been. I imagine I will return tomorrow.”

“As you wish, Dr. Mallard.” Vance offered his hand and Ducky shook it firmly. 

“Will you let me know when our friends are due to be back in the building?” Ducky asked. “I would like to check them over, and be here for Abigail once she’s informed. She is not going to take the information well.”

“I’ll check on their ETA. Sometime tomorrow afternoon would be my guess; they haven’t been in the air long.”

“Then I shall certainly be here by then. Thank you, Director.”

Vance left Autopsy, looking back to see Ducky opening a drawer and pulling out a picture. He watched for a moment as Ducky stood, head bowed, with the picture in his hands, then turned and headed for the elevator. 

His assistant spoke up as soon as he reached her desk. “Director David is requesting a conference in MTAC, sir.”

Vance sighed internally, then nodded. “Fifteen minutes,” he replied, walking into his office and shutting the door.

Chapter Text

Gibbs stowed the satellite phone in his pack, then sat back and scrutinized his agents. Tim was sitting opposite him, off to his left, his back against the wall of the plane, his arms hanging loosely at his sides. There were dried tear tracks on his face, and he was staring straight ahead, clearly seeing nothing. Tony was sitting on Gibbs’ side of the plane, toward the back, wearing one of Gibbs’ spare shirts to replace the one speckled with Ziva’s blood. He was hunched over, his forearms resting on his thighs, head down. Gibbs could see Tony’s eyes were open and his lips were moving; the engines were too loud and Tony was too far away for Gibbs to get any sense of what his second was saying.

Gibbs sighed, focusing his gaze on the body bag that was secured off to his right. He had a flash of memory: Ulman’s head through the scope, holding his breath, gently squeezing the trigger… Gibbs shifted in his seat, shoving aside his own regret and pain at Ziva’s death. He could indulge in that later or keep it buried, whichever seemed best in the moment. The living took priority. 

There hadn’t been much time to talk once they’d taken Ziva out of the building. He’d made sure his agents’ injuries were minor and promised Tony he wouldn’t ask any questions until the drugs wore off. He’d been focused on his target through the rifle scope, so he wasn’t sure of all the details. He didn’t think Tim had seen Ziva’s death; he knew Tony had. 

Glancing between his two agents, he decided to tackle Tim first. He stood, stretching out some of the stiffness that remained from being in his sniper’s nest for so long, then crossed the plane to sit next to Tim, who shifted his gaze toward him and gave a slight nod.

“How’re you doin’, Tim?”

The reply was an indrawn breath let out as a mix of sob and scoff. “Boss…” Tim’s voice faltered. He rolled his head on his shoulders, then took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I can’t believe she’s dead,” he admitted quietly. “I mean… I know we thought she already was…” He stared at the floor for a moment, then looked over at Gibbs, his expression showing a bit of desperation. “If we’d known… if we’d known she was there, we could have done things differently.”

“Like what?” Gibbs’ voice was gentle.

Tim shook his head, blinking back tears. “I don’t know. Something…” He shook his head. “I don’t even know exactly what happened. I was on the ground behind her. I couldn’t see.” He fell silent, thinking, then looked at Tony. “I guess I’m glad I didn’t see,” he said slowly. “Boss… I think Tony’s in bad shape.”

Gibbs nodded. “I know. But right now I’m talking to you.”

Tim turned his head to meet Gibbs’ gaze. He gave him a half-hearted smile. “Thanks, Boss.” He cleared his throat and looked back down at the floor. 

Gibbs watched him for a moment. “Vance is mandating counseling,” he said quietly. 

Tim sat up slightly, thinking, then nodded. “That’s good. I think I’ll need it.” He looked back at Gibbs. “Is–” He shook his head, looked away, and fell silent. 

“Go on.”

Frowning slightly, Tim glanced at him then looked away again. “You’re a Marine,” he stated. “Is it… easier, I guess, having lost people in combat?”

Gibbs considered the question, his eyes narrowing and his lips pressing together. He inhaled deeply, looking at the opposite wall of the plane as he answered. “No… not easier. Not to lose them. You just get better at… putting it aside.”

Tim nodded. “Compartmentalizing.”

Gibbs shot him a look. “Like I said. Putting it aside.” He shook his head slightly, then shrugged. “I guess everyone deals with it in their own way.” He sat quietly for a moment, then added, “Not sure any one way is better than any other.”

Tim gazed at him, taking in the rare openness. “Are… are you going to counseling?”

Gibbs snorted softly and said nothing. 

Tim nodded, easily interpreting Gibbs’ meaning. He looked over at Tony again. “I don’t think he should be alone,” he said, so softly Gibbs wasn’t sure he caught it. 

“What’s that?”

Tim sat up a little straighter. “Tony. He’s taking this really hard. I don’t think he should be alone.”

Gibbs looked over at the man in question. “He’ll stay with me… long as it takes.” He punctuated the statement with a single nod of his head. 

Tim relaxed, clearly relieved. “Good. That’s good, Boss.”

They sat together silently for a while longer. Eventually Gibbs laid a hand on Tim’s shoulder. “You good for now?”

Tim nodded. “Yeah. I think I’ll try to get some sleep. Haven’t had much lately.”

Gibbs gave Tim a small smile, then stood and made his way over to Tony while Tim tried to get comfortable lying on the bench. 

Tony was in much the same position he’d been in before, still talking quietly to himself. Gibbs hesitated for a moment, then moved forward, holding onto a strap as he came to a stop in front of his second. “You good, Tony?”

Tony looked up, startled, and Gibbs immediately saw the panic blooming in his eyes. He held up a hand. “Got’cha. Still under the influence.”

Tony bit his lips, keeping his mouth shut, and nodded emphatically, eyes fixed on a spot to Gibbs’ right.  

In another circumstance, Gibbs would have thought it was funny. In that moment, he simply said, “You’ll be staying at my place after we do what we have to at the office.”

Tony looked up, his eyes searching Gibbs’, then he nodded again. 

Gibbs looked at him for a few seconds, then reached down to lightly brush the palm of his hand against the back of Tony’s head. “I know you don’t think so, but you did good, Tony. Try to get some rest.” He squeezed the back of Tony’s neck, then turned and made his way back to his seat, leaving his wide-eyed second in command staring after him. 

Thousands of miles away, Leon Vance was in MTAC, standing silently in front of the huge screen while Director of Mossad Eli David ranted at him. 

“This is unacceptable! Your actions have resulted in the death of my daughter ! My last living child!”

Vance raised an eyebrow. “My people didn’t kill her, Eli.”

“They might as well have!”

Vance pursed his lips and looked at his counterpart thoughtfully. “NCIS didn’t send her to Somalia. And we pursued this operation with the cooperation of Mossad, with intel you provided.” His head tilted slightly to one side. “Did you know Ziva was being held captive?”

Eli sat back in his chair, disgust clear in his expression. “Of course not. If we had known, we would have done things differently!”

Vance nodded in acknowledgment, not agreement, and waited. 

Eli stared at him. “I am told your agents took Ziva’s body with them, that she is on her way to America.”

“Agent Gibbs informed me of that decision after their plane left the base,” Vance replied. “She was a member of their team, Eli. No disrespect was intended.”

“Bah!” Eli struck the desk with the palm of his hand. “Your Agent Gibbs is a thorn in my side. I suppose DiNozzo was also responsible for this disaster?”

Vance looked at Eli for a second before responding. “He was part of the team.”

Eli snarled. “I expect you to bring all NCIS agents involved in my daughter’s death to me, here in Tel Aviv.”

Vance shook his head. “No.”

Eli’s eyes narrowed. “No?”

“No,” Vance affirmed.

Eli snorted, shaking his head. “Leon, Leon… you owe me.”

Both of Vance’s eyebrows shot up. “I would say we’re even.”

“And how do you make that calculation?”

Vance gave Eli a humorless smile. “I brought my agents to the lion’s den only a few months ago, my friend. But before that, I kept that liaison position on Gibbs’ team at your urging. And might I remind you of the damage your Agent Rivkin did on American soil?”

Eli stared at Vance through narrowed eyes. “Then I guess I will have to come to you.” 

Vance considered that, then inclined his head. “You’re always welcome.”

Eli frowned. “This is not over. I want a full report and those responsible held accountable.”

“Saleem Ulman is dead, Eli. There’s no one else to hold responsible.”

Eli swore in Hebrew and cut the feed. 

Vance sighed quietly and reached up to rub his eyes. “This will be fun,” he muttered as he turned and strode to the door. 

Chapter Text

The ride from the base at Norfolk to the Navy Yard was quiet. Vance had sent a car to pick up the team. Gibbs rode in front with the driver, Tim and Tony behind. Whenever Gibbs looked back, Tim was asleep and Tony was looking out the window. 

The drugs Tony had been injected with had worn off during the long flight home. Tony had gradually become more settled until he’d finally stopped talking to himself. He’d then spent the rest of the trip staring at the opposite wall, or the floor, or his hands as they rested in his lap. Gibbs knew his second hadn’t slept at all because he’d refused to fall asleep if Tony couldn’t. He knew staying awake wasn't exactly helpful, but the idea of sleeping seemed too much like leaving a man behind. 

Per Vance’s orders, the car pulled into the evidence garage, so the team could go directly to Autopsy and Ducky could check them over, at his own insistence. When Gibbs started to open the car door, the driver asked him to wait, merely smiling slightly as Gibbs glared at him. The driver then placed a call. “Dr. Mallard… we’ve arrived… yes, sir.”

He ended the call and turned toward Gibbs. “Dr. Mallard requested notification of your arrival. He asks that you wait here until, as he put it, the coast is clear.”

Gibbs stared at the young man, then shrugged, shifting his gaze to the back of the car. No change in either of his men. 

A few minutes later, the driver’s phone rang, and he answered. “Yes, sir.” After hanging up, he spoke to Gibbs. “Dr. Mallard asks you to join him in Autopsy.”

Gibbs nodded to the man and glanced back at his agents to see Tim groggily sitting up and Tony hesitating for a second before opening the door. “Thanks,” Gibbs said gruffly to the driver as he exited. They grabbed their gear and headed for Autopsy. 

Tony and Tim followed Gibbs through the door; Ducky was waiting for them, alone. 

“Jethro.”

“Duck.”

Ducky sighed heavily. “I am so sorry.”

Gibbs nodded. McGee said, “Thanks, Ducky,” and Tony looked at the medical examiner for a moment before he said quietly, “Your loss too.”

Ducky nodded. “Yes.” He was then uncharacteristically quiet as he looked at them.

Gibbs cleared his throat. “Tony first,” he said. “Ulman injected him with something that made him talk.”

Ducky’s eyebrows rose. “Oh, dear.” He peered at Tony. “Are you currently fighting that urge, or has it passed?”

Tony shook his head. “Seems gone.”

“Well, hop up on the table, my boy. We’ll run the bloodwork to be sure there’s nothing to worry about.”

Tony followed Ducky’s gentle order without comment, prompting Ducky and Gibbs to exchange glances. 

As Ducky drew blood, a process which caused more concerned glances among everyone except Tony due to his lack of reaction to the needle, he began filling the silence. “I offered Mr. Palmer the opportunity to take Abigail out to an early dinner,” he said. “I assumed none of you would care for an audience at this time.” 

“Does Abby… does she know?” McGee asked. 

Ducky shook his head. “Director Vance informed me yesterday. He said that you, Jethro, would break the news to her.” He focused on Tony. “There, Anthony, that’s done. I’ll just label the vial and get it ready for processing. Mr. Palmer can run the tests if Abigail is not quite up to it. Now then, any injuries I should be looking at?” He looked closely at Tony’s face. “Have you slept at all?”

Tony looked down at his hands and shook his head. 

“Ah. I have the report from the medics on site; they say you have some bruises, evidence of some form of physical attack, along with severe dehydration, for which they gave you both IV fluids as well as bottled water, correct?”

Tim confirmed his information while Tony stayed silent. Ducky kept talking while he finished his examination of both younger men, bringing everyone up to date on inconsequential happenings that none of them, including himself, cared about. Once he was done with both of them, recommending rest and plenty of food and water, he turned to Gibbs. 

“Your turn, Jethro.”

“In a minute, Duck.” Gibbs looked at Tim. “You okay to drive?”

Tim thought it over. “I think so. I slept on the plane and in the car.”

Gibbs nodded. “Okay. Take Tony to my place, stay there with him until I get there. You’re welcome to stay overnight too.”

Tim frowned. “Are you going to tell Abby today?”

“As soon as I’m done here and she gets back with Palmer.”

“If it’s alright with you, I'd like to stay with her… assuming she wants the company.”

Ducky spoke up before Gibbs had a chance to say anything. “Excellent idea, Timothy. In fact, you are both welcome to stay with me for a few days; this has been quite a shock and I wouldn’t mind the company.”-

Tim gave him a small smile. “Whatever Abby wants to do is fine with me. Thanks, Ducky.”

“Of course, my boy.”

The three of them looked at Tony, who seemed oblivious to his surroundings, standing nearby, his gaze unfocused. 

Ducky, clearly concerned, looked at Gibbs. “Jethro…”

“I know, Duck. I’ll take care of him.”

Ducky raised an eyebrow but stayed quiet.

Tony roused himself and looked suspiciously at Gibbs. “You’re not going to be nice, are you, Boss?”

“Wouldn’t dream of it, DiNozzo,” Gibbs said dryly. 

Tony looked at him for a long moment, then took a deep breath. “Okay. Tim?”

Tim walked to the door where their gear was stowed and grabbed both his and Tony’s packs. Tony gave Ducky a smile so small it was barely there. “Thanks, Ducky.”

“Get some rest, Anthony.”

Tony followed Tim out the door. 

Ducky gestured toward the slab, and Gibbs hoisted himself up onto it. “Anthony is deeply troubled, Jethro.”

Gibbs nodded. “I’ll take care of him,” he repeated. 

Ducky checked Gibbs’ blood pressure. “Are you sure -”

“My responsibility, Duck."

Ducky frowned. “I know you take care of your team in your own fashion, Jethro, but are you sure you’re up for this?”

Gibbs sighed. “My fault, my responsibility.”

“I don’t understand.”

Gibbs stayed silent for several seconds, then explained. “Ulman killed her right in front of Tony.” He frowned, his expression grim. “She never should have been there.”

“I’m given to understand her father sent her on that mission.”

Gibbs nodded. “Which he couldn’t have done if I hadn’t left her behind in Israel.”

“You couldn’t have forced her to return, Jethro.”

“That’s just it, Ducky… she wanted to come back.”

Ducky frowned. “Once again, I confess I do not understand.”

Gibbs sighed, reaching up to rub his forehead. “She wanted me to choose. Her or Tony.”

“What?” Ducky stared at him, then sat heavily in his chair. 

“Said she didn’t think she could work with him anymore, because he killed Rivkin. Told me to choose.” Remembered pain flashed across Gibbs’ face. 

“Jethro… she asked you to do the impossible.”

Gibbs’ eyes met Ducky’s. “No, Ducky. Was never a choice.”

Ducky sat back and contemplated him. “You and Anthony have quite the history.”

Gibbs let out a short laugh. “Hell of a history.” He thought back to meeting Tony in Baltimore, his eyes distant. “Something clicked between us almost as soon as we met.”

Ducky smiled. “I remember you telling me you punched him in the face.”

“And then he drew a gun on me.” Gibbs tilted his head as he thought. “Tony’s not just my senior field agent. He’s my partner, Duck. Our solve rate wouldn’t be anywhere near what it is without him.” He looked at his friend seriously. “I’ll take care of him.”

Ducky nodded. “Perhaps if you tell him how you feel, it would help.”

Gibbs shrugged. “Maybe.” He stared down at his hands, unconsciously mimicking Tony’s earlier posture. 

“Jethro,” Ducky said slowly, “I suspect Ziva’s death is causing you just as much pain as Tony, perhaps for different reasons.”

Gibbs looked at him, raising an eyebrow.

“It has been a long time since you’ve been this open with me. Perhaps not since before Caitlin’s passing.”

Gibbs met his eyes, then looked away. “Everyone has a breaking point.”

“And have you reached yours?”

Gibbs considered that. “Much rather talk to you than some shrink,” he said.

Ducky shot him a look of exasperation, but was prevented from commenting by the door opening and Abby rushing in, followed by Palmer. 

“Gibbs!” She flung herself into his arms as he got off the table. 

“Hey, Abs.”

“Gibbs!” She hugged him fiercely, then let go and stepped back. “Where’s Tim? And Tony?”

“I sent them home. Been a long trip.” He looked at her seriously. “We need to talk.”

“Yes, we do! I have so much to tell you… can you come to the convent to do some carpentry and plumbing work? The nuns had a broken pipe and some water damage -”

“Let’s go to your lab.”

Abby froze. “What’s wrong? Did you get hurt? Is Timmy okay? Is it Tony?”

“We’re all fine, Abs. C’mon.” Gibbs started walking toward the door, looking back at Ducky and nodding meaningfully toward Palmer.

Ducky returned the nod. “Mr. Palmer,” he began, “I have something to tell you…” His voice cut off as the door closed behind Gibbs and Abby. 

Chapter Text

Abby was silent until they got to the lab. “Gibbs,” she stated, crossing her arms over her chest, “you're scaring me.” 

Gibbs guided Abby to the chair behind her desk. She sat, looking up at him.

“Abs… the mission was a success.”

She nodded vigorously. “The director told us you got him.”

“Yeah… Abby, the intel was… incomplete. Ziva was being held there.”

Abby looked shocked, and she jumped up from her chair. “Ziva?!” Her face lit up. “I knew it! I just knew we needed more evidence to be sure she was gone, and we couldn’t get it, so we made an assumption, which you always say we shouldn’t do, so why did we? Can I see her?”

“Abby -”

“She can stay with me while she looks for a new apartment, since her place was blown up.”

“Abs -”

“It won’t be too long until she’s back on the team again, right? I mean, it was all a misunderstanding with her boyfriend, so Tony will let it go and she’ll forgive him and everything will be normal again!”

“Abby!” Gibbs realized he’d yelled and made an effort to moderate his voice. “Ziva’s dead. Ulman killed her.”

Abby stared at him, sinking back down in her chair. “What?” she asked, her voice small and quiet.

“He killed her right in front of DiNozzo. Tony's having a hard time. Tim was spared witnessing it.”

Abby’s eyes filled with tears. “We thought she was dead, but she wasn’t, and we left her there in the hands of a terrorist?”

Gibbs shook his head. “No one knew she survived. Somehow she made it onshore after the Damocles went down. How she ended up a prisoner is anyone’s guess. She was probably trying to complete the mission her father gave her.” He reached for Abby’s hand. 

She exploded up out of her chair before he could touch her. “NO!”

Gibbs pulled back and she pushed past him, pacing the floor. “No!” she repeated. “First Kate, now Ziva? You were there… you were right there . How could you let this happen?”

The image through the rifle scope of Ulman falling but then getting back up flashed through Gibbs’ mind, but he shoved it aside. “Abby -”

She turned to face him, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I said no , Gibbs!” She began gesticulating wildly as she spoke. “I talked to Tony after Kate… you were right there. Timmy could have shot the bad guys and stopped them, but he didn’t. You and Tony were right next to her! You should have known!”

Gibbs stared at her. “Abs… no way McGee had any chance. He was pinned down in the street. No line of sight to the shooter on the roof and not enough fire power.”

“Fine,” she replied angrily, her face turning red. “Timmy’s off the hook for Kate. But you and Tony aren’t. You were right there!”

Gibbs tilted his head slightly. “How was I supposed to stop a sniper’s bullet when I didn’t know he was there?” he asked softly. 

“I don’t know! You… you’re Gibbs !”

Gibbs shook his head. “I’m just a man, Abby. And Kate died years ago. This isn’t really about her.”

“You let Ziva die!”

Gibbs suppressed his reaction to the accusation. He would have preferred a slap to the face. “Abby.”

His tone caused her to close her mouth, swallowing whatever else she intended to say, staring at him angrily while tears continued to slide down her cheeks. 

He hesitated, unsure of what to say to her.

She took his silence as an opportunity. “All three of you should have been able to save her.”

“Maybe.” Probably , he thought, if we’d known . 

“Not maybe!” She stamped her foot. “You said she was killed right in front of Tony. Why didn’t he do something?”

Gibbs’ eyes narrowed. “Stop breaking rule eight. You don’t have the full story.”

Abby reached up with both hands to wipe at her face. “Fine.” She moved toward the door. “I’ll get the story from them.”

“No, you won’t.”

Abby turned around, outraged. 

Gibbs stepped past her, moving to stand between her and the door, facing her. “Both of them were unarmed. Tim’s hands were bound, and he was on the floor behind Ziva. Tony was tied to a chair, both arms and legs, and he was drugged. Ulman was armed. Neither of them could do anything.”

She opened her mouth to speak. He reached out and gently tapped her chin; her mouth closed. 

“They’re both hurting, Abby. Tony hasn’t slept since it happened. Tim took him to my house. When you’re ready to listen and stop making accusations, you’re welcome to come visit. But not for a few days. Tony needs time to get his head on straight.” He ignored the inner voice pointing out that he needed it too. “You need to talk to someone, see Ducky. Or Palmer. Don’t talk to Tony or Tim until you’re ready to listen.”

Abby’s eyes filled again with tears. “You let Ziva die,” she repeated, her voice hard. “Get out of my lab.”

Gibbs looked at her. Grief showed momentarily on his face before he could mask it. He nodded once, then turned and walked out, leaving Abby staring after him. 

He ignored the temptation to get out of the building and returned to Autopsy. Ducky and Palmer were talking quietly, Ducky sitting at his desk, Palmer in a chair he’d set nearby. Both rose as Gibbs entered.

“I… I’m so sorry, Agent Gibbs.” Palmer’s expression was both earnest and sad. 

Gibbs nodded to him. “Appreciate that, Jimmy.”

Palmer’s expression radiated empathy, but he didn’t say anything else. 

Ducky spoke up. “Abigail?”

Gibbs shook his head. “Not in good shape. Blaming all three of us.”

Ducky grimaced and shook his head, then looked at Palmer. “Mr. Palmer, if you would be so kind…”

The younger man nodded. “Of course, Doctor. I’ll go talk to her.” He smiled briefly at both men, then headed out the door. 

Ducky gazed at Gibbs. “What’s your next step, Jethro?”

Gibbs suddenly felt tired. He reached up to rub at his eyes. “Talk to Vance. We’ll have to get reports done before Ziva’s father shows up… see if I can find out how much time we have.”

Ducky frowned. “Neither you nor Anthony should be pressured on this issue.”

Gibbs shrugged. “He’s her father. He has a right to know… and I’m sure he’ll demand it.”

Ducky shook his head. “If there’s anything I can do…”

Gibbs looked at him. “Talk to Abby. I don’t want her interacting with either Tim or Tony right now. They have enough to deal with without fending off her anger.”

“I don’t know what that child is thinking,” Ducky muttered.

Gibbs huffed out a small laugh. “She’s hardly a child, Duck.”

Ducky peered at him over his glasses. “Abigail is an extremely intelligent and capable woman, but there can be times when one is hard-pressed to remember that.” He looked critically at his friend. “Do you want a ride home?”

Gibbs shook his head. “I can drive. Car’s in the garage.”

“Very well. I’ll go provide Mr. Palmer with backup.”

Gibbs smiled at that, then made his way to the director’s office. 

With a sympathetic look, Vance’s assistant waved him through the open door. Vance was seated at his desk; he stood as soon as Gibbs walked in and motioned toward the soft chairs at the side of the room. Gibbs looked at them, then shook his head. “Would be too hard to get back up.”

Vance nodded his understanding. “How’s your team?”

Gibbs shrugged. “Ducky prescribes rest. Basically clean bill of health otherwise, except for waiting on DiNozzo’s bloodwork.” He thought for a moment. “Abby’s not taking the news well.”

“No surprise there,” Vance muttered. He looked thoughtfully at Gibbs. “I’ve heard from Eli’s people. They have a situation brewing with the Palestinians, so Director David will be delayed.” He aborted a reach for a toothpick. “I can give you two days; then I’ll need you and your team back here to get those reports done and be ready for when he arrives. Psych evals at that time.”

Gibbs nodded. “We’ll be here.” He looked at Vance for a moment. “Appreciate you not dragging our asses back to Israel.”

Vance raised an eyebrow. “Did that once. Told Eli I don’t owe him anymore.” His eyes narrowed. “Still going to be dicey, Gibbs, but I’ve got your back.”

“And DiNozzo’s?”

Vance gave him an exasperated glare. “Yes, his too.” He shook his head, annoyed. “Get this through your thick skull, Gibbs… I don’t have anything against the man. Never did. He’s a good agent.” Vance sighed. “Now go tell him that and make him believe it. I don’t want to lose an important asset to this agency.”

Gibbs looked at him, eyebrows raised. 

Vance snorted. “I checked the security feed from Autopsy. Man looks like a light breeze would knock him over.”

Gibbs dipped his head in acknowledgment. “See you in a few days, Leon.”

Chapter Text

Gibbs walked through his front door and into the living room. Tim was getting up from the armchair; Tony was lying on the couch, eyes closed. 

Tim took a few steps closer to Gibbs. “He’s been asleep since we got here,” he said quietly. 

Gibbs looked at Tony and raised an eyebrow, then tilted his head in the direction of the kitchen and headed that way, Tim following. 

“How’s Abby?” the junior agent asked. 

Gibbs took a deep breath, letting the air out slowly and meeting Tim’s eyes. “Not good,” he said frankly. “She’s blaming us for Ziva’s death.”

“What… why?” Tim looked shocked. 

Gibbs shook his head. “We were there, we should have stopped it.” He hesitated, then added, “She brought up Kate. I think I convinced her you couldn’t have done anything about either of them, but…” He waved one hand aimlessly and let it drop, his shoulders slumping slightly. 

Tim blinked rapidly, reaching up to wipe some moisture away from one eye. “She’s… distraught. I don’t think she really means it.”

Gibbs simply looked at him. 

“Well… she won’t mean it once she’s had some time to think it over,” Tim hedged. 

Gibbs grunted, then said slowly, “Not sure it’s a good idea for you to see her tonight.”

Tim sighed. “You’re probably right.” He looked back toward the living room. “I don’t think I should stay here either… Tony’s more likely to talk to you if you guys are alone.”

Gibbs’ brow furrowed; he knew McGee was right about that, but didn’t want him to be alone either. “Let me check in with Ducky.”

He placed the call; Ducky picked up after only two rings. “Hello, Jethro.”

“Duck. How is she?”

“She wouldn’t stop crying, so neither Mr. Palmer nor myself could talk with her. He’s taking her to the nuns as we speak.”

“That’s good. Hold on.” Gibbs held out the phone to Tim. 

“Hi, Ducky… is your offer to stay with you still good?”

“Of course, my boy! There’s a lovely little restaurant near me that delivers; we’ll have a good meal and reminisce, or focus on other topics if that’s what you would prefer.”

Tim smiled. “Sounds great. I’ll be there soon.”

“I’m just leaving now. I shall meet you there. Mother is currently in rehabilitation for several days, so we shall be at our leisure for the evening.”

“Thanks, Ducky. I appreciate it.” After saying goodbye, Tim hung up and handed the phone back to Gibbs. “When do we report to work?”

“Vance is giving us the next two days off. Reports and psych evals after that.” He sighed, exhaustion beginning to show through. “Ziva’s father is likely to show up soon, and I’m sure Vance will give him access to the reports.”

Tim nodded. “Understood.”

Gibbs held out a hand. Tim hesitated for a moment, then reached out, gripping firmly. The handshake was brief. “You’re handling this well. Proud of you,” Gibbs said.

Tim smiled slightly as he let go. “Thanks, Boss. Means a lot.”

Gibbs nodded, looking a little uncomfortable, and Tim headed for the foyer and his pack, glancing at Tony. “Goodnight,” he said, and left. 

Gibbs waited until he saw Tim’s car pull away, then turned to look at Tony on the couch. “Want a beer, DiNozzo?”

Tony’s eyes opened and he sat up. “Figured I couldn’t fool you. No, thanks… water would be great, though.”

Gibbs returned with a glass of water and a beer, handing the former to Tony before sitting on the couch. They clinked the glassware together, then drank. 

After a moment of silence, Gibbs asked, “Didn’t want to talk to McGee?”

Tony reached up to run his fingers through his hair. “Didn’t know what to say. Still trying to get it all straight in my head.”

Gibbs scrutinized him. “Drugs mess with you?”

Tony shook his head. “Nah… just made it almost impossible to stop talking.” He stared at the fireplace for a moment then looked at the older man. “Gibbs… what happened?”

Tony saw a series of different emotions chase over Gibbs’ face, almost too quickly to identify them.

“I missed the shot.” Gibbs' expression was stoic as he admitted it.

Tony nodded slowly. “I thought that’s what you said, back there… but then I thought maybe I imagined the first one.”

Gibbs shook his head. “Unfortunately, no.”

Tony looked down at his glass. “Thought maybe Ziva had tripped Ulman, that’s why he went down…” He bit his lip and fell silent for a moment, then looked up at Gibbs. “You never miss.”

Gibbs snorted quietly. “It’s not the first time… just the first time in a long time.” His gaze roamed around the room. “Not like I was born a sniper.”

They were quiet for a while, then Tony said, “Gibbs… I’m sorry.”

“For what?”

Tony shrugged. “I couldn’t stop Ulman from killing her. You lost another daughter because of me.”

Gibbs stared at Tony, then shook his head. “Already told you… Ulman killed her. You know that.”

Tony set his glass down on the coffee table and leaned back, letting his head rest on the back of the couch. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

Gibbs sighed, turning to face him. “Ulman had the knife. Odds are he intended to do it all along. And if anyone else is to blame besides him, it’s me. I missed the shot.”

Tony turned his head and looked at him. “Always thought you were superhuman, you know? You just… you’re Gibbs.”

Gibbs shot Tony an annoyed look. “That’s what Abby said. Trust me, I’m nothing special.”

Tony snorted. “Agree to disagree… but yeah… you’re human. Not fair to have unrealistic expectations.”

Gibbs sighed. “You heard me and Tim talking.”

Tony smiled slightly. “Got good ears. He’s probably right, you know… she can’t stay mad at you for long.”

They were quiet for several minutes, each lost in their own thoughts. Gibbs shifted his seat looking at the fireplace, and eventually spoke up. “I never looked at Ziva as a daughter,” he said quietly, glancing at Tony. 

Tony’s expression was highly skeptical. 

“I mean it,” Gibbs insisted. “You think I’d have been so quick to let her stay in Israel if I’d felt that way?”

“Why did you?”

Gibbs grimaced. “Story for another day.”

“Nuh uh, Gibbs. Now.”

Gibbs reached up to rub his forehead. “Tony…” He looked up, meeting Tony’s eyes. The younger man’s expression was determined. He sighed and looked down at his beer. “On the tarmac… she wanted me to choose.” 

“Choose? Choose wha -” Tony gaped at him. “Her or me?”

Gibbs nodded. 

“And you chose… me.”

Gibbs blinked and looked up at him. “That surprises you?”

“Well… yeah.” Tony looked astonished. 

Gibbs shook his head, put the beer on the table, and turned to face him again. “I had one daughter,” he said quietly. “Her name was Kelly.”

Tony’s eyes searched Gibbs’ face. “Abby,” he challenged.

Gibbs shook his head. “Both Ziva and Abby could make me feel… paternal, at times. But neither is Kelly.” There was a slight hitch in his voice as he said her name. 

Tony winced in response. “I’m sorry.” 

“Don’t be.” Gibbs hesitated, then continued, “I’ve hidden my family away for too long. They deserve to be talked about. I was damn proud of them, and damn lucky to have them in my life.” He looked at Tony, smiling slightly at his wide-eyed expression. Remembering Ducky’s suggestion that he be more open with Tony, he said, “And who else should I share them with than one of the most important people in my life?”

Tony blinked. “Ducky?”

Gibbs rolled his eyes and reached over to lightly tap him on the top of his head. “You.”

Tony stared at him. “Me?”

Gibbs sighed, wishing this wasn’t so difficult. “Yes, you. You’re not just my senior field agent. Far as I’m concerned, you’re my partner at work.”

Tony hesitated, then pointed out, “Who you order around.” 

“Well, yeah. Would be confusing for the team otherwise.” Gibbs smiled at Tony’s disbelief. “You’re family.”

Tony smiled broadly at that, but the smile faded quickly. “Like a son?” His expression was slightly sour.

“No. I’m gonna say it again. I had one child , and her name was Kelly.” He stifled a yawn. “I don’t know how to explain it. You’re… essential. To me.” He punctuated that statement with a little nod. 

“Wow. No one’s ever said that about me.” Tony blinked, reached for his water, and downed what remained. Setting the glass down, he looked at Gibbs.  “I have no idea what to do with that.”

“Me neither,” Gibbs admitted. “And I’m about to keel over. Guest room’s yours. Sleep until whenever.”

Tony nodded. “Good idea. Night, Gibbs. And… thanks.”

Gibbs shifted over and lay on the couch, barely registering Tony leaving the room before he fell asleep. 

Chapter Text

Ducky walked into Abby’s lab the next morning. “Abigail! My dear girl, how are you feeling?”

Abby stood in front of the computer, tapping keys as she compiled results for one of the agents on cold cases. She shrugged as Ducky came closer. “How can you ask that?”

Ducky raised an eyebrow as he came to a halt next to her, his hands in the pockets of his lab coat. “Quite easily, I assure you. Yesterday was a very trying day, and I care about your well-being.”

“I’m fine.”

“No, you most surely are not. Might I prevail upon you to join me for a cup of tea?”

Abby looked at him from the corner of her eye, then, smiling slightly, she hit a final key with a flourish. “I just sent all the results to Agent Forrester, so yes, I can join you.”

Smiling in return, Ducky offered his arm and escorted her to Autopsy. 

A short time later, they were seated near his desk, each cradling a cup of tea in their hands. Abby looked down into her cup for a few moments, then looked up at Ducky. He could see the lines around her eyes; she clearly hadn’t slept much the night before. 

“Why, Ducky? Why does this keep happening?”

“To which ‘this’ are you referring?”

Abby frowned. “To my friends dying. To my other friends letting them die.”

Ducky sighed quietly. He sipped his tea, considering his words carefully. “If you worked in retail, or in an office building, it’s unlikely you would ever lose a friend or coworker to violence,” he said slowly. “But you work at NCIS and your friends are on the Major Case Response Team, which means they are often on the front lines against violent criminals and terrorists.” His eyes met hers, his expression serious. “We have perhaps been lucky not to have lost more of our friends than we have.”

Abby shook her head. “It’s not fair.”

“What’s not fair?” Jimmy Palmer had just walked in and caught her last sentence. 

Ducky smiled at him. “Ah, good morning, Mr. Palmer. We are discussing injustice. Please do join us.”

Jimmy went to get another chair while Abby narrowed her eyes at Ducky. “It’s not funny,” she said firmly. 

Ducky shook his head, then began speaking over Palmer’s “What’s not funny?” as the younger man returned with a chair. “No, it isn’t funny at all, is it?” Ducky sipped more tea, gesturing toward the pot and tea set for Palmer to help himself. “We shan’t stand on ceremony,” he commented, as he turned his attention back to Abby. “Aren’t you speaking of injustice when you say that Ziva’s death isn’t fair?” Ducky cocked his head to one side as he looked thoughtfully at Abby. “Why do you think I was poking fun at your feelings?”

Abby shifted uncomfortably in her chair. “It just makes it sound different,” she said, clearly uncomfortable. 

“Ah.” Ducky set down his cup and reached over to pat her hand. “The words we use do change the meaning. Fairness versus injustice… perhaps the latter does lend it a certain gravitas.” He sat back, reclaimed his tea, and took another sip. “Ziva’s passing is a terrible loss, as was Caitlin’s. They died doing what they thought was right: fighting terrorism in Ziva’s case, protecting Jethro in Caitlin’s.”

“So why didn’t Gibbs protect them ?”

Once again, Ducky set his teacup down on his desk. “My dear girl, what would you have him do?”

Tears began to fill Abby’s eyes, and Jimmy’s expression grew worried. “I don’t know!” she wailed. “But he should have done something !”

Jimmy looked at her, perplexed. “Abby… do you really think it’s Gibbs’ fault that they died?”

“I don’t know!” Abby’s expression wavered between mutinous and confused. “I just, I don’t get it. Gibbs and Tony and Tim, they come back alive all the time. Why couldn’t they make sure Ziva and Kate did too?”

“Abigail,” Ducky said, his tone cool, “would you rather it had been Anthony or Timothy who died at the hands of those terrorists?”

“Of course not!”

Jimmy saw that Abby was beginning to get angry, so he spoke up quickly. “What did the nuns say last night?”

Abby blinked and calmed down. “I was really upset, so they gave me hot chocolate and then put me to bed. Sister Rosita sat with me for a while and told me some stories about some of the nuns who used to play pranks back in the day, but I kept thinking about Ziva, so I wasn’t really listening all that much.”

“Perhaps you could focus less on the loss, and more on what you have gained from their friendship?” Ducky leaned forward, taking one of Abby’s hands in his. 

Abby pulled her hand away. “I don’t know how to do that, Ducky… I can’t just be all ‘oh, it’s fine, my friends are dead, but they made me happy once, so it doesn’t matter.’”

Ducky frowned and Jimmy’s brow furrowed angrily. “Dr. Mallard said you were talking about injustice. Seems to me you’re dishing some of that out right now yourself.”

“What? Jimmy!” Abby turned her head quickly to stare at him, torn between shock and anger. 

“Mr. Palmer,” Ducky began, but Jimmy shook his head and spoke. 

“Abby, you’ve known Gibbs, Tony, and Tim for a long time. You know they give every victim, every case everything they have, and that they put their lives on the line for people they don’t know, as well as for the ones they do. How can you think, even for a moment, that any of them did less than their best for Ziva?”

Abby looked stricken. “Jimmy, I… I just want Ziva to be here with us.”

“You can’t turn back time, Abby. You weren’t there with them, none of us were. We don’t know what really happened, how it happened. I just can’t understand how you could think somehow Gibbs was at fault.” Jimmy glanced at Ducky, who was watching him gravely. “And what you said just now, implying that Dr. Mallard thinks Ziva’s death doesn’t matter… that’s so wrong I don’t even know where to start.”

Abby’s eyes glittered with tears and anger. 

“One more thing, and then I’ll stop talking.” Jimmy sat forward, resting his elbows on his thighs. “You’re acting as if no one cares but you. I don’t know exactly what happened, but I do know Tony was really shaken by Ziva’s death. Dr. Mallard told me Gibbs said Ziva was killed right in front of him. Think about how he feels, think about how McGee and Gibbs feel. They couldn’t save her. You know how I know that? After so many years of helping them solve cases, I know if they could have saved her, they would have.”

Tears rolled down Abby’s face. “I don’t understand why it’s okay that Ziva’s dead!”

Ducky reached over a second time, placing a hand on one of hers, while Jimmy got up and took some tissues from the desk, handing them to Abby. “Abigail,” he said gently, though with a hint of steel. “For some reason you seem determined to cast the living as villains. You hurt for Ziva, we all do. Why can you not also hurt for Jethro, and Anthony, and Timothy? Consider what they’ve gone through. Their pain is no less meaningful than yours, despite the fact that they hold it inside while you express yours more openly.”

Abby sniffled and blinked. “I know, but -”

Ducky shook his head. “Abigail… you have a tremendous heart. You care deeply. You are one of the most compassionate people I know. But,” he emphasized the word by staying silent for a beat longer than usual, “empathy is also needed here, just as much as compassion. You have compassion for Ziva, as do we all, but I wish that you would have both compassion and empathy for our friends who are surely feeling tremendous guilt over what happened, even though, as Mr. Palmer rightly put it, they likely could not have done anything differently.”

Abby stared at him, her eyes wide. 

“Think it over,” Ducky advised her. “Time heals most wounds, but I would hate to see the strong friendships you have with those three men be damaged because you lashed out and made them targets for your grief.” He squeezed her hand gently. “We can mourn without casting blame beyond where it belongs… and that is with the man who stole Ziva’s life from her.”

“From all of us,” Jimmy said quietly. 

Ducky nodded to him. “Indeed,” he said, sadly. 

Abby looked down and took a deep breath. “I… I need to think. I need my lab.” She gave them both a small smile. “Thanks.” 

They all stood, and Ducky released her hand as she turned away and walked quickly toward the door. 

The two men looked at each other after she left. “Well said, Mr. Palmer.”

“You too, Doctor.” Jimmy looked worriedly in the direction Abby had gone. “She’ll understand why we said all those things, won’t she?”

Ducky sighed. “I hope so. I would hate for her to be trapped in her grief, just as much as I would hate for her grief to make things worse for our friends.”

They stood silently for several seconds, then Ducky sighed and turned to look around the room. “Well… Director Vance has told me to proceed with a minimal autopsy, just to confirm the cause of death, and I dare say it is time for me to do so with our poor girl. Which means you, Mr. Palmer, should go elsewhere. This is one I must do alone.”

Jimmy nodded, somewhat relieved. “Yes, Doctor.” He helped Ducky move Ziva’s body onto one of the tables, then left. 

Ducky took a moment to put on his scrubs, then stood looking down at Ziva’s pale face, ignoring for a moment the gaping wound in her neck. “My dear girl,” he said heavily, then stopped speaking and just stood there, his hand resting gently on her shoulder. 

Chapter Text

Gibbs and Tony slept through much of that first day off. Gibbs had a few nightmares, including one in which it was Shannon, not Ziva, whom Ulman killed after Gibbs missed the shot. That one sent him sitting bolt upright in a cold sweat, breathing fast, heart pounding. He sat up on the couch for several minutes, waiting to see if he’d made enough noise to wake Tony, then settled back down, staring at the ceiling for a long time until he fell asleep.

They woke around the same time in the early afternoon, ordered and ate a pizza, and went back to sleep, all without talking much. 

Gibbs startled out of sleep some hours later to the sound of Tony screaming Ziva’s name. He was on his feet and headed for the guest bedroom before he’d consciously processed what was happening. 

Tony was sitting up in the bed, tangled in the sheets, his head in his hands. Gibbs hesitated in the doorway, then strode forward, poking Tony in the shoulder with one finger to get him to move over. Tony did, wiping at his face and sitting back against the headboard. “Didn’t mean to wake you,” he mumbled, looking down at the sheets bunched over his waist.

Gibbs settled on the bed, mimicking Tony’s position except for stretching his legs out on top of the sheets. “Had my share of nightmares already today,” he admitted. “Tell me about yours.”

Tony shuddered and took a deep breath. He reached up to wipe his eyes again, glanced at Gibbs, then said, “I just keep reliving it over and over again… the way it happened. Doesn’t matter if I’m asleep or awake… I keep seeing Ulman with that damn smile on his face and the knife and…” He breathed in again, then let the air out slowly. Gibbs could hear it catch in Tony’s throat. “He -” Tony paused, swallowing and gritting his teeth. One tear escaped and slowly made its way down his face. “He uses the knife on her, and her eyes meet mine… and I see pain and anger and blame in them… and then she’s gone.”

Gibbs reached up and laid a hand on Tony’s shoulder, squeezing it gently. Tony tensed up for a moment, then relaxed, reaching up to rest his own hand on Gibbs’ for a few seconds before using both hands to cover his face. 

Gibbs waited patiently for Tony to get himself under control, knowing the younger man wasn’t comfortable with releasing so much emotion in front of him. He rubbed Tony’s shoulder and upper back, remembering doing something similar for Shannon many times. “S’okay, Tony. S’okay.” He repeated that a few times while Tony struggled to control himself. 

Once the younger man quieted, Gibbs pushed past his own reticence. “Guilt’ll eat you alive if you’re not careful,” he said quietly. 

Tony nodded. “I know,” he whispered. “Still think back to that rooftop and Kate. If only…” He sighed. 

“I carry that with me… Shannon, Kelly, Kate… now Ziva. Not to mention all the others I lost when I was on active duty, all the people I couldn’t save as an agent.” Gibbs free hand gripped the sheet underneath him tightly.

“Even though you couldn’t possibly have done anything to stop it most of the time?” Tony’s voice was thready, weak. “LIke I couldn’t have saved Jason King’s sister… the kids in Baltimore. Told you about that when I came to work for you.”

“Yeah.” Gibbs relaxed into the headboard, his hand still resting on Tony’s upper back. “Dreamed it was Shannon in Ziva’s place, just a little while ago.” It was his turn to suppress a physical reaction to his memories. About half a minute later, he continued, “Couldn’t save my family, so I took out their killer. Never felt guilty about that, not once.” He looked at Tony, waiting.

Tony took a deep breath and let it out. He looked at Gibbs. “I knew… about Pedro Hernandez.”

Gibbs gave him a wry smile. “Figured as much. Got more curiosity than a cat, and more than smart enough to put it all together.” He shrugged. “Also figured if it bothered you, you’d move on.”

“Doesn’t bother me. Can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same thing in your place.”

Gibbs started rubbing Tony’s shoulder again. “Losing someone you love is hard. Thinking you could have prevented it makes it that much harder.”

Tony’s brow furrowed. “Ziva was my teammate… sometimes my friend. Was never in love with her… too many walls, too much occasional animosity. And after Israel…” He sighed. “I would have liked to bury the hatchet… been able to work with her again. Develop a real friendship.”

Gibbs thought for a moment, then said slowly, “You were with her, at the end. She knew you were there, and she knew you’d come to finish what she started… for her. She didn’t die alone.”

Tony nodded slowly. “Nice way to look at it.”

Both men were quiet. Tony relaxed a little more into Gibbs’ touch. 

After a while, Gibbs spoke up again. “What you say you saw in her eyes, in the dream… that real, or comin’ from the guilt?”

Tony reached up to rub his face. “I think… guilt.” He closed his eyes, trying to remember hers. “I think… she was looking at me, as he… as he cut her. There was… relief? Peace… I think there was peace in her eyes. Like it was okay… she was ready. She said she was, when Ulman said he was going to kill one of us.” 

Gibbs felt a wave of sadness hit, thinking of what her life had been in Mossad, and what she might have gone through as a prisoner. “If you can… share that with Abby. Once she’s calmed down and thinkin’ straight.” 

Tony nodded. “She really blames us, doesn’t she?”

“Yeah. At least for now. I think Ducky’s gonna try to get her to see things more clearly.”

“My money’s on Jimmy,” Tony said, his voice getting stronger. “Did you tell her that you missed the shot?”

Gibbs shook his head. “It’ll be in my report. Only person I’ve told so far is you.” He sighed. “Not sure what Tim knows, if he remembers.” 

“She finds out, might be adding fuel to the fire.”

Gibbs shrugged. “I’m not perfect. She’ll have to accept that.”

“You’re not beating yourself up too much about that, are you?”

Gibbs snorted softly. “Of course I am. If I hadn’t missed, Ziva would probably be alive right now, staying with Abby and starting to think about the future.”

“Not without difficulties. She might have been resentful, angry, and facing a long battle to feel in control of her life.” Tony pointed out. He shook his head. “I’m not saying she’s better off… gone. Not gonna try to tell you not to give yourself a hard time, not when I’m doing it to myself.” He yawned, then scooted down on the bed, resting his head on the pillow. “Think I can sleep again.” He looked up at Gibbs. “Maybe if you stay here, neither of us will have more nightmares?”

Gibbs thought about it, then shrugged and shifted around until he was lying down. “More comfortable than the couch,” he admitted. 

Tony smiled. “Good thing it’s a queen and there are two pillows.” He yawned again, settled, and fell asleep quickly with Gibbs following soon after.

Several hours later, Tony woke slowly, feeling more relaxed and content than he had in months. He slowly realized that his head was resting on Gibbs’ chest, his arm was around Gibbs’ waist, and Gibbs’ fingers were combing through his hair. 

Tony raised his head and looked up at Gibbs, who met his gaze and arched a brow. Tony blinked, smiled, and laid his head back down on Gibbs’ chest. Gibbs resumed running his fingers through Tony’s hair. 

After a few minutes, Tony asked softly, “What is this, Gibbs?”

Gibbs’ hand stilled on Tony’s head, then went back to what it had been doing. “Not sure,” he replied. “Slept fine, no nightmares. Feels right.” He cleared his throat, then continued, “If it had been you instead of Ziva… I don’t know if I’d have survived it, knowing my mistake caused your death.” 

Tony rolled to one side, resting his weight on his right arm where it lay on the mattress. His left arm still encircled Gibbs’ waist. His startled eyes met Gibbs’ calm ones; they stared at each other for several seconds before Tony smiled slightly and lay back down, tightening his hold on Gibbs’ waist. Once again Gibbs continued running his fingers through Tony’s hair. 

“Gibbs… uh, Jethro?”

Gibbs smiled. “Yeah, Tony?”

Tony cleared his throat. “Have you ever thought about… us? Before, I mean.”

Gibbs sighed as he continued stroking Tony’s hair. “Yeah. Every so often. Wondering what if…” His voice trailed off.

“Me, too,” Tony admitted, his voice soft. 

Gibbs’ hand left Tony’s head; his arm came around Tony’s back and he held the younger man close. “Now’s probably not the time. But… I think it’s worth considering. Together, I mean.”

“That it is.” Tony’s hand left Gibbs’ side and found the hand that was resting on the bed. He took it, entwining their fingers. “What you said about me being there, Ziva not dying alone… it helps.” He took a deep breath. “Something clicked between you and me, when we met in Baltimore. We just understood each other, you know?”

“We did.”

Tony chose his words carefully. “You’ve been my boss and my friend, but you’ve also been the NCIS legend… the driven agent, the superhero type. Larger than life.”

Gibbs squeezed his hand, but said nothing.

“I’ve always found you attractive, Gibbs… and we’ve flirted, sure… but a real relationship, you with a mere mortal? Never could have contemplated it, not seriously. But now… you missing that shot… you didn’t cause Ziva’s death, but it made it possible for Ulman to make the decision he did, to do what he did. And somehow that makes you less of a legend and more human, more… approachable. So in a way missing that shot makes… us… possible.” Tony’s brow furrowed. “Does that make any sense?”

“I guess,” Gibbs said doubtfully. “I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, legends and all that crap. But like you said earlier… nice way to look at it.” Gibbs squeezed Tony’s hand again. “Something good coming out of a tragedy.”

Tony nodded. “Yeah. Let’s… keep it in mind?”

“Absolutely. Got a lot to think about.”

They lay there for a few more minutes before Tony’s stomach growled. “Chinese?” he asked. 

“Sure. I’ll call it in.”

They both sat up and looked at each other, hands still joined. They each needed a shower and a shave, not to mention more sleep, but they each could see that the other was a little more at peace in that moment. Gibbs smiled, Tony responded, and then they were up and moving, Gibbs to his phone and Tony to get cleaned up. 

Chapter Text

Leon Vance walked briskly toward the stairs on his way to his office, stopping short as he saw Tim McGee sitting at his desk, focused intently on his computer. Vance looked at his watch, then strode in McGee’s direction, setting his briefcase down on DiNozzo’s empty desk as he passed it. 

“Agent McGee.”

Tim looked up, startled, then stood. Vance scrutinized him critically; the man looked tired and moved a little stiffly. 

“You have two days off. You’ve only used one.”

Tim nodded. “I know, Director… I slept a lot yesterday, at Ducky’s house, then I went home last night and played some video games, and then I slept some more… but I don’t need time off now, I really need to get everything out of my head and in my report.” He shifted his weight from one foot to the other. 

Vance scrutinized him carefully. “You’re sure.”

“Yes, sir. I have my psych eval scheduled with Dr. Wolf for later today.”

“Okay. Leave early if you need to.”

“Thanks.”

Vance turned away, then aborted the move and faced McGee. “Have you heard from Gibbs or DiNozzo?”

Tim nodded. “Tony called me yesterday evening to check in.” He thought for a moment. “He said he and Gibbs were okay. They slept a lot and they ate pizza and Chinese.” He fell silent, meeting Vance’s eyes. Vance arched a brow. “They, ah… they don’t really talk to me about how they feel, but I’m pretty sure they talk to each other. Tony sounded better. More like himself.”

Vance nodded. “All right. If Dr. Wolf clears you, you’re on cold cases until the rest of your team is back on duty. But I want you to take that second day tomorrow.” They were both silent for a moment; Vance noticed Tim was staring at Ziva’s empty desk. “No pressure to find a fourth for a while,” Vance said, his voice gentle. “I’ll let Gibbs know.”

Tim gave him a small smile. “Thank you, Director.”

Vance nodded. “You find a lead, hand it off to another team.” He returned the smile. “As you were.” He turned and left, grabbing his briefcase and heading for the stairs. 

Tim sat back down and resumed typing. He was laying everything out methodically, trying to remember the smallest details. 

“Timmy?”

He looked up. Abby stood at the corner of his desk, biting her lip. “Hey, Abs.” 

“Can we talk?”

Tim sighed. He looked back at his computer. “I want to get this report done.”

“I really need to talk to you.” 

He looked at her again; she was wringing her hands and biting her lip. He felt the usual impulse to do what she wanted, but then he thought of Ziva… and of what Ducky had told him about his own conversation with Abby the previous evening, before he’d left for his apartment. “I need to get this done,” he said quietly. “But I’ll come see you when I’m finished.”

Abby blinked and frowned, but to his surprise she nodded. “I’ll be in my lab.”

Tim watched her walk away. “I guess Ducky and Jimmy got through to her,” he muttered to himself, then returned to his report. 

Some time later, his report finished and waiting for Gibbs’ signature, he walked into Abby’s lab. He found her sitting at her desk, filling out some requisition forms. “Hi, Abs.”

She looked up at him, smiling, but that smile faded as she saw his empty hands. “No caf-pow?”

Tim suppressed his exasperation. “Been a little distracted lately, Abby. You said you wanted to talk to me?”

She nodded, sitting back in her chair. He looked at her for a moment, then went to get a stool from the outer room. 

As he sat down, Abby asked, “Am I a bad person?”

“What? No, of course not.” He stared at her. “Why do you ask?”

She fidgeted in her chair, shifting her weight and fiddling with a pad of post-it notes. “Ducky and Jimmy said some not nice things yesterday.”

Tim thought about what Ducky and Gibbs had told him over the past couple of days. “Because you’re angry at us?”

Abby looked at him, eyes wide. “Not at you , Timmy!”

“But you were,” he pointed out. 

Her eyes narrowed. “Who told you that?”

He crossed his arms over his chest. “Gibbs said you blamed all three of us for what happened to Ziva.”

Color rose in her face. “Well.. I did But he explained that you couldn’t have helped her.”

Tim tried to quash the doubt he felt in response to her words. “So you still blame Tony and Gibbs.”

She shrugged. “It’s hard not to. I mean, Gibbs is Gibbs! He always wins. And Tony was right there.”

Tim sighed. “Abby… if I’m not to blame, neither is Tony. We were both right there. I was on the floor behind Ziva. She was tied to a chair. My hands were tied. Tony was seated opposite her, also tied to a chair, and drugged. We'd both been beaten, and we were hungry and dehydrated. Neither of us could have done anything to stop Ulman from doing what he did.” Liar, an inner voice said, you had the use of your legs. Your hands were in front of you. You could have done something, but you didn’t. You froze.

Abby sat there, thinking. “Well,” she said softly, “what about Gibbs?”

“He’s the one who took out Ulman. His sniper’s nest was a long way off.”

“Then why didn’t he do that before Ziva was killed?”

Tim shook his head. “I don’t know, Abby. You’d have to ask Gibbs.”

“Well, what did you see?”

“Not much. I was trying not to do anything to set Ulman off.” Liar, the inner voice said again. Tim pushed it away and thought. “I heard a shot and Ulman hit the ground. Then he got back up, and I heard Tony scream Ziva’s name. Then another shot, and Ulman was dead.”

Abby stared at him. “Two shots?”

Tim nodded, realization starting to sink in. He and Abby stared at each other. “He missed,” they said simultaneously.  

“I… I didn’t put it together at the time… I guess I was in shock after what happened to Ziva.” Tim frowned. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it when I wrote my report,” he muttered. 

“Gibbs never misses,” Abby whispered. 

“Abby,” Tim began.

“Never! He always hits his target!” Abby’s expression was a combination of horror and fury. She shot to her feet, and Tim was sure she meant to go to Gibbs’ house and confront him. 

“Abby! Sit down.”

“No, Tim! I need to see Gibbs!”

Tim stood and blocked her from leaving the area behind her desk. “Why? So you can make him feel worse than he already does?”

Abby stared at him. “What?”

“You’re putting all the blame on him.”

“He missed the shot!”

“He didn’t kill Ziva!” Tim realized he was yelling and made an effort to calm down. “What did Ducky and Jimmy say to you?”

“What?”

“You heard me. What did they say that was mean?”

Abby sank back down in her chair; her eyes avoided his. “They said I’m compassionate but not empathetic.” 

Tim stayed where he was, thinking. “They’re not wrong.”

“Timmy! How can you say that?”

Tim watched as tears filled her eyes. “Abby… you care deeply, but you filter that compassion through what you want.”

She stared at him, tears rolling down her face. 

Tim steeled himself. “Remember how you emotionally blackmailed me into adopting Jethro?”

“But you love that dog!”

“Yes, but I sure didn’t at that point. He’d almost killed me. You had more compassion and empathy for him than you did for me. You’re emotionally impulsive, Abby. That’s not always a bad thing… but in this case, confronting Gibbs over a missed shot isn’t going to do anything except to make him feel worse than I’m sure he already does.” He sat back down, taking her hand. “Think about it,” he said quietly. “There are lots of examples of you insisting things happen a certain way. You find comfort in routine, like caf-pow deliveries, but you need to see that sometimes we can’t always live up to your expectations.”

Abby wiped her face. “Like Gibbs not saving Ziva.”

Tim sighed. “Yeah, like that. You can’t just make life fit into nicely wrapped fairy tales. Gibbs isn’t a superhero, Abby. And I don’t know much about being a sniper, but I do know there’s a time lag between pulling the trigger and the bullet reaching the target… and given how far away Gibbs was stationed, there was plenty of time for Ulman to have moved just enough for the bullet to graze him instead of kill him outright.”

Abby lowered her gaze for a moment, then looked back up at him, frowning. “Shouldn’t a good sniper be able to anticipate that?”

Tim was starting to realize the value of a good head slap. “Abby,” he said firmly. “Gibbs is human. He’s not magic. He’s not perfect.” He backed up a step. “Look… I have my psych eval soon, and I want to get some things straight in my head. So I’m going back upstairs.” He watched several different emotions chase across Abby’s face. “Abby! Don’t go confronting Gibbs or Tony as soon as I leave.” 

She looked up at him, her expression both guilty and sheepish, with a hint of obstinacy.

“I’m serious,” Tim continued. “They’re not in a good place right now. You’re going to be risking your friendship with both of them if you launch accusations again.”

Her eyes widened and she relaxed back in her chair, her shoulders slumping. 

“You’re a scientist,” Tim said gently. “Follow the evidence. Research snipers and how they work, the factors they have to consider. Wait for all our reports to be submitted… then you can see for yourself what happened. And please, think about what Ducky and Jimmy said… and what I’ve told you too. Because your compassion should extend to Gibbs and Tony just as much if not more than it does to Ziva… she can’t hurt anymore. They can.”

He turned and left before she could keep the conversation going. 

Chapter Text

Gibbs and Tony slept much of the morning. When Tim was going to Abby’s lab, they were up and eating breakfast; Gibbs had driven them to the diner, where they both greeted Elaine quietly, then focused on their meals. By the time they were back at the house, Ducky had called Tony to tell him the bloodwork had come back normal, so the drugs he’d been given were out of his system and no longer a concern, although Ducky did caution Tony to keep him apprised if anything seemed off.

Gibbs went downstairs to work on his boat, while Tony went back to the guest room and played games on his phone for a while. He felt calmer than he had, but physically and emotionally drained. He tried not to think about Ziva, or about what had happened between him and Gibbs the night before… but when his thoughts drifted to his experience in captivity before Ulman began interrogating him, he decided he’d rather have some company and the distraction it could provide. 

Tony went down to the basement, getting halfway down the stairs before he realized that Gibbs wasn’t there. He stood there for a moment, frowning, then turned and went back upstairs. Gibbs wasn’t in the living room either, but the truck was in the driveway, in front of the garage, so he knew Gibbs hadn’t gone anywhere in either that or the Challenger. He headed to the kitchen, looked out the back door, and saw Gibbs sitting on the edge of the deck, his head bowed. 

Tony hesitated for only a few seconds before opening the door and walking out to join him, sitting a few feet to Gibbs’ right. “You okay?”

Gibbs was staring at the ground, watching some ants move purposefully to and from the entryway to their nest. “Been better.”

“Ziva?”

Gibbs let out a breath and nodded. “And Abby.”

Tony sighed. “And Kate.”

“Yeah.” Gibbs sat up and looked at Tony. “You really weren’t in love with Ziva? Figured you were headed toward breaking rule twelve with her.”

Tony’s eyes met Gibbs’. “Were you in love with Jenny when you broke rule twelve?”

“Rule twelve didn’t exist at that point… she was the reason for it.” He shook his head and looked at some of the plants growing near the deck. “I liked her. A lot. She was ambitious, but she didn’t have that hard edge yet.”

Tony smiled slightly. “Didn’t think love was a prereq for breaking that rule. With Ziva… the attraction was there… but any time I imagined it, she would be threatening to kill me with office supplies. Sort of kills the mood.”

Gibbs chuckled softly. “I should think so.”

They were silent for a few minutes, and then Tony said quietly, “Maybe if we’d met under different circumstances. If she hadn’t been Ari’s handler… not to mention his sister. If we hadn’t been on the same team.”

Gibbs looked up into the sun, squinting. “Jenny should have put her on threat assessment, Middle East desk.”

“Would have made more sense,” Tony agreed. “Then maybe… who knows?” His lips twitched in sudden amusement. “We could be married, have three kids, buy a house down the street so retired Grandpa Gibbs could watch the kids while Mom and Dad go catch the bad guys.”

Gibbs blinked, then shot Tony a sidelong glance. “With Eli David as a father in law.”

“Ouch.” Tony grimaced at the thought.

Tony stayed quiet after that, and Gibbs followed suit until Tony sniffled and cleared his throat. Gibbs looked at him, laying a hand on his shoulder. “What ifs are tough.”

“Got that right.” Tony reached up to quickly wipe at his eyes, then shot Gibbs a small smile. “Wondered about what might have been in store with Kate too, after she died. But we were more like siblings… didn’t have that sexual tension like with Ziva.”

Gibbs nodded. 

Tony shot a look at him. “Not sure we have it either, you know… despite our conversation last night.”

Gibbs’ lips curled into a smirk. “Wasn’t really thinking about that.”

“Then what were you thinking about?” Tony shifted to face him. 

Gibbs spoke slowly. “I’ve noticed that when I’m around you, I feel more at home than I have with anyone since Shannon and Kelly.”

Tony stared at him. “Wow.” His head tilted slightly to one side. “Is that enough to base a relationship on?”

“Dunno.” Gibbs shrugged. “Possessive of you too. Every time Tobias says something about poaching you for the Feebs, I want to rip his face off.”

Tony grinned. “I’d like to see that.”

Gibbs huffed out a small laugh. “All I really know is life feels right with you around. I’d like to see what could come of that.”

Tony thought it over. “What happened to Ziva… does make one think about how short life can be, and the potential for lost opportunities.”

Gibbs nodded, not meeting Tony’s eyes. Tony watched him for a moment, then reached over and rested a hand on Gibbs’ shoulder, noting how the other man leaned into the touch. “It wasn’t your fault, Gibbs.” He paused. “Jethro. You said it yourself… Ulman probably always meant to kill her.”

Gibbs sighed, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath, then lowered his arm. “I keep seeing him go down, through the scope. Then get back up. Had to readjust fast, couldn’t let myself think about what might be happening to you or Tim… or Ziva.” 

Tony squeezed his shoulder again then dropped his hand. “I wondered if you saw her.”

“I did. Can’t help but think the surprise threw me enough to affect the shot.”

Tony thought it over. “Based on what I know about you, I doubt it. Wasn’t an easy shot to make in the first place… awfully far.” 

“Yeah.” He rubbed his hands over his thighs, then abruptly got to his feet. Tony followed. “Goin’ back to the boat,” Gibbs said. He took a few steps, then stopped and turned. “You could tell me about some movie, if you want.”

Tony grinned. “Give me a genre.”

“The weirder, the better. Something distracting.”

“Buckaroo Banzai it is.”

Gibbs looked at him doubtfully. “That a western?”

“More science fiction. But Jeff Goldblum does dress like a cowboy, so maybe that counts. It’s a cult classic. I’m not even sure I can do it justice… we may have to watch it.”

Gibbs looked at him. “You got it at home?”

“Of course.” 

“We could spend the night at your place.”

Tony wrinkled his nose. “I’ve got that single bed.”

Gibbs frowned. “I could sleep on the couch…”

“Nope. I sleep too well with you to give that up.”

Gibbs smiled. “Alright. Well, tell me about it downstairs, and we’ll see.”

Tony trotted after him, feeling better than he had in a long time.

At about the time that Tony had joined Gibbs on the deck, Tim was sitting in the conference room opposite Dr. Wolf, roughly fifteen minutes into his psych evaluation. 

“That must have made a difficult situation both better and worse, finding out she was alive.” Dr. Wolf looked at him affably, pen poised over his notebook. 

Tim nodded. “It was hard to focus on the mission at first. She was talking to Tony… she did ask me how I was, so somehow she knew I was there, even though she never looked at me.” 

“How did you feel about being put in such a dangerous position?”

Blinking at the subject change, Tim shrugged. “I told Tony I would help him find out what happened to Ziva. I wasn’t going to leave him without backup.”

“Ah, but it’s my understanding that you went on this mission thinking she was already gone.”

“Gone as in dead? Yes. We thought she was lost at sea on the Damocles .”

“Agent DiNozzo volunteered you for this mission, is that right?”

“Officially, I suppose, but I already told you I wasn’t going to leave him without backup. And Ziva was my friend. Tony wasn’t the only one who wanted to complete Ziva’s mission.” Tim met Dr. Wolf’s gaze calmly. 

The doctor smiled at him, and Tim was surprised to find it so genuine. “So what’s bothering you about what happened?”

Tim’s jaw dropped. “You mean other than Ziva being dead?”

“Oh, yes, I do apologize. Of course that’s a terrible tragedy.” Dr. Wolf seemed truly flustered. “I meant, what is it about your own role in the mission that bothers you?”

Tim looked down at his hands for a long moment, then asked, “You’ve read my report?”

“I have.”

Looking up, Tim spoke slowly. “I could have done something. I had the use of my legs, my hands were tied but in front of me, so I could have done something. I should have. Then Ziva would be alive.”

Dr. Wolf considered him. “So why didn’t you?”

Tim shook his head, blinking back tears. “I froze. I was a coward.”

“I suppose that’s possible,” the doctor said thoughtfully, “but given everything I’ve read in your file, I highly doubt it.” He sat forward, prompting Tim to look up at him. “Analyze the situation. Talk to me as if I’m a probationary agent. Explain why your inaction might actually have been the right move.”

Tim stared at him. “You mean… what could have gone wrong if I had done something?”

Dr. Wolf beamed at him. “Exactly! You are assuming that if you’d acted, the outcome would have been better. But have you thought about how it could have been worse?”

Tim shook his head. “No…” He closed his eyes, thinking back to everything that happened after Ziva was brought into the room. “Ulman was armed,” he said. “He had a knife and a gun.”

Dr. Wolf nodded. “Your report says he pulled the gun on you after you took him down.”

Tim opened his eyes. “Yes. He could have… I’m lucky he didn’t shoot me in the head then and there.” He felt a little nauseous at the thought. 

“So you did do something, but you were at a disadvantage. What might have happened if you’d tried again?”

Tim bit his lip, thinking hard. “He could have still killed Ziva… or Tony. All three of us.”

Dr. Wolf nodded again. “Go on. Think about the mission.”

Tim raised his eyes to meet the doctor’s. “I could have prevented Gibbs from taking the shot… or made him miss. I could have moved into the path of the bullet, and Gibbs could have killed me by accident.”

“And how would that have made him feel?”

Tim opened his mouth, then closed it. His brow furrowed as he thought. “It’s hard to know what Gibbs feels,” he said slowly, “but I think he would have been really upset.”

“I should think he’d have been devastated. Agent Gibbs is known for being protective of his team.”

“Oh, he is.” Tim sat there, listening for the inner voice that had been telling him what a failure he was… but it was gone. 

He looked at Dr. Wolf. “I did the best I could under the circumstances. And even though we… we lost Ziva, it was the right move.”

“You’re absolutely right.” Dr. Wolf looked at him searchingly for a moment, then smiled. “I’ll tell Director Vance that you’re cleared for duty.” He stood, reaching out to shake Tim’s hand. “But please do feel free to make another appointment if you’d like to talk things out more.”

Tim gave him a small smile. “Thanks. I might just do that.” He left the room, feeling better than he had since he and Tony had been captured by Ulman’s men. When he sat at his desk and looked across the way to where Ziva had once been, that inner voice stayed silent. 

Chapter Text

Tony and Gibbs had stayed at Gibbs’ house overnight; after Tony talked through the entire story of Buckaroo Banzai and then suggested they go to his place to watch it, Gibbs had stared at him, very deliberately put the sander down on the boat, then walked over to him, head slapped him gently, and gone back to sanding. The next hour had been spent quietly enjoying each other’s company, with Tony sitting on the steps while Gibbs continued to work on the boat. They’d eventually returned to the guest room bed to sleep, and the next morning Tony had once again woken up with his head on Gibbs’ chest and Gibbs’ arm around his waist. They’d gotten out of bed without talking, and eventually ate breakfast at the diner for the second morning in a row, both of them grinning at Elaine when she asked Tony if she was going to have to fight him for Gibbs.  

Now Tony watched Gibbs as he drove them to the Navy Yard. “Heard anything from Vance about Ziva’s father?”

Gibbs shook his head. “We’ll get the reports done. I’m sure Leon’ll have us on cold cases until Eli gets here.” He pushed against the steering wheel, stretching his arms. “Heard from Tim… he passed his psych eval yesterday. Get that done today.”

Tony sighed and nodded. He didn’t bother asking if Gibbs was going to actually do his this time around. 

“Tim’s taking the day off,” Gibbs continued. 

“Yeah? Good.”

Gibbs grunted, and they sat in a comfortable silence the rest of the way. 

They got a variety of reactions walking to their desks. Some people stopped them to express their condolences about Ziva, some ignored them, some made eye contact but stayed quiet. Both men went right to their computers and began working on their reports. Roughly an hour after they started, Gibbs left for coffee and returned with two cups, one of which was exactly how Tony liked it. 

Vance showed up a short time later, striding forward and coming to a halt near Ziva’s desk, waiting for both men to look up at him. “Director David will be here tomorrow morning,” he stated. “Be ready.”

Gibbs nodded once, maintaining eye contact with Vance for a second before refocusing on his computer. Tony nodded to the director when the man looked his way; Vance scrutinized him for a moment, then returned the nod and left, heading back to his office. 

Some time later that day, Tony sat in the conference room opposite Dr. Wolf. He was well into recounting their exploits in the desert, gesturing expansively, a big smile on his face. “... so we totally had them fooled, am I right? It was just like a movie I saw recently… hold on, I’ll remember the name… might have been Paul Newman… so not about terrorism, of course, but a similar vibe. Now, you get that I’m not talking about The Sting , which is such a classic, it’s something else, on the tip of my tongue -”

“Agent DiNozzo -”

Tony held up a hand. “Gimmie a sec, I almost got it -”

“Tony.”

Tony stopped talking and looked at him curiously. 

Dr. Wolf gave him a gentle smile. “I’ve read your report already, so I don’t need your admittedly fascinating account of how you tricked Ulman’s people into bringing you into the camp.”

“Wow!” Tony’s smile grew. “You read fast.”

“Yes, I do believe I am above average in that regard.” Dr. Wolf let the smile fade and looked at Tony, his expression both kind and serious. “To be honest, I am most interested in how you are feeling after the death of your compatriot.”

Tony’s smile vanished; his expression became blank.

“I do know that I am using that term, compatriot, somewhat freely… Officer David was not an American. But she was part of your team for several years and your team has the reputation of being closer than most, so I do believe I can be forgiven for that misuse.” His expression changed, becoming more knowing. “I understand that you are more than capable of talking rings around most people, and perhaps that would work with many of my colleagues. But I am genuinely concerned for your welfare.” He sat forward earnestly. “I know what happened; that’s all in your report, and it’s supported by both Agent McGee’s and Agent Gibbs’. I can’t do anything for Officer David, but I can try to do something for you… if you will allow.”

Tony’s expression had become guarded as Dr. Wolf spoke; now it turned bitter. “And if I don’t talk about my feelings, I won’t get cleared to go back to work, right?”

Dr. Wolf sighed. “This isn’t just about dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s. It’s about your welfare, and that of your team… as you well know.” He sat back, looking at Tony thoughtfully. “I don’t have to hear about anything other than how you’re reacting to your experiences on this mission. I don’t need to hear about anything other than that, unless there is something else you wish to discuss.” His eyebrows rose. “You have faced far worse enemies than myself.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed and he chewed on his bottom lip for a moment. “I’ve talked to Gibbs,” he said slowly. “It helped.”

Dr. Wolf smiled. “That’s excellent! If it would be easier, feel free to tell me about that conversation… the relevant bits, of course.”

Slowly, Tony talked about his reaction to Ziva’s death, and how Gibbs’ helped by telling him she didn’t die alone. When the doctor remained silent, watching Tony and taking a few notes, Tony kept going. He talked about his current feelings concerning his short time in captivity before Ulman’s interrogation. He told Dr. Wolf about his concern for Tim throughout the mission, his ability to shrug off his own relatively minor injuries, and the way he was able to turn the effects of the drugs in Ulman’s truth serum to his advantage, leading Ulman in a song and dance routine that helped get him killed. He was well aware that although he began by talking about Ziva, he didn’t mention her again after that. 

When Tony stopped talking, Dr. Wolf sat back and considered him. Tony met his gaze evenly, almost in challenge. 

“Thank you for sharing,” the doctor said, smiling. He sat forward. “So, how responsible are you for Officer David’s death?”

Tony stared at him, suppressing his immediate reaction. Then he laughed briefly. “You’re good, Doc.” He shook his head, his expression a mix of admiration and disappointment.

Dr. Wolf inclined his own head with a slight smile, keeping his eyes on Tony’s. 

“I didn’t kill her,” Tony admitted quietly without shifting his gaze. He pushed away the memory of Ziva’s eyes as she died. “I should have done more to keep Ulman away from her. And she wouldn’t have been there in the first place if I hadn’t killed the man she loved. If I’d handled that mess differently…” He shrugged. “So am I responsible? To some extent, yes.”

“Was Officer David a rational person?”

Several different expressions chased across Tony’s face. “Yes. Most of the time.”

“So, she was a functioning adult and capable of making decisions about the direction her life would take.”

“To a point. She was loyal to Mossad. And to Gibbs. She had trouble when those two conflicted.”

“Was she loyal to you?”

“To me?” Tony laughed quietly. “As a teammate, yes, she had my back. Personally… we weren’t always in sync.” He looked down at the table, thinking. “She would sometimes push me to handle personal issues quickly and move on.” He looked at the table, tracing patterns on its surface with his fingers. “She was trying to help,” he added softly.

Dr. Wolf nodded, making a note on paper. He looked up at Tony. “Are you having nightmares?”

“Yes.” Tony sighed as Dr. Wolf raised an eyebrow. “It’s always the same. I relive what happened. When they first started, the look in her eyes was blaming me. Not anymore.”

“What do her eyes say, in those dreams?”

Tony shifted uncomfortably. “At first, that her death was my fault. Now… that she was at peace with death. She accepted it. Maybe even welcomed it.”

“How do you feel about that?”

Tony glared at him. “I don’t know. I haven’t figured that out. I don’t know if I’ll ever understand her.” He looked down at his hands. “She didn’t have an easy life.”

“I am sorry for your loss,” Dr. Wolf stated seriously. He gave Tony a small smile when the latter looked up at him, then focused on his notebook, writing several lines before setting down his pen and sitting back. “Your reactions are normal,” he stated firmly. “You’re processing what happened well and in a relatively healthy manner.”

“Lot of that is due to Gibbs,” Tony admitted. 

“The man may have missed his calling,” Dr. Wolf mused, making Tony chuckle at the idea of Gibbs as a shrink. “Any advice for me as to how I can get him up here?”

Tony grinned. “He’s the master of evasion. I wish you luck.” He raised an eyebrow. “Am I clear?”

“Oh, yes, quite. I do recommend you continue to talk to someone, and I am happy to offer my services, but clearly Agent Gibbs is a good influence, so by all means stay in communication with him.” Dr. Wolf rose, reaching out to shake Tony’s hand. 

Tony thanked him and left the room, heading for the bullpen. As he came down the stairs, he saw Gibbs sitting at his desk; the man looked up and his lips twitched into a small smile, which disappeared as he looked behind Tony warily. Tony followed Gibbs’ gaze, but there was no sign of Dr. Wolf. 

Tony reached his desk and gave Gibbs a small smile. “I’m good, well, good enough, Boss. You going?”

“Not a chance, DiNozzo,” Gibbs growled. He got to his feet, glanced up at the stairs again, then made for the back elevator. Tony sat in his chair and pulled out his phone, texting Tim with a quick update before turning his attention to the stack of cold case files the junior agent had left for him the previous day. 

Chapter Text

Gibbs stepped into Autopsy, but no one was there. He hesitated briefly, then decided to check in with Abby. He set off down the hall and ran into Ducky as the medical examiner left the lab, shutting the door behind him. 

“Ah, Jethro! Good to see you. How are you doing? How is Anthony?”

“We’re good. Tony just got cleared by the head doc.”

Ducky peered at Gibbs over the rims of his glasses. “And you?”

“C’mon Duck, you know that’s not gonna happen.”

“You’ve been through a difficult experience, Jethro. It might help to talk it over with someone who didn’t know Ziva.”

Gibbs simply stared at him. 

Ducky sighed. “Yes, well… you may as well come with me back to Autopsy. Abigail does not want company at the moment.”

Gibbs allowed himself to be pulled along back down the hall for a few steps, then stopped. “Is she alright?”

Ducky let go of his arm and turned to face him. “I believe so, yes. More thoughtful than upset at this point. She is doing some research that she says Timothy suggested might help her understand what happened.”

“Research?” 

“Yes… I didn’t wish to push her on that point, though I admit I did just glance at her computer screen. She appeared to be searching for information about snipers.”

Gibbs’ eyes widened; he looked in the direction of the lab, then breathed deeply and leaned against the wall.

“Jethro? I take it you understand the point of Abigail’s research.”

Gibbs nodded, staring at the opposite wall. “Yeah, I get it.” He turned to face his friend. “Tony knows this… I told him right away, when he started blaming himself. Tim must have known and told Abby.” He reached up to run his fingers through his hair, then looked Ducky in the eyes. “When we talked the other night… I told you it was my responsibility to take care of Tony in part because I left Ziva behind in Israel. That gave her father the chance to send her to Somalia.” Gibbs looked at Ducky. “There’s more to it than what I told you.” His hands clenched at his sides. “We had trackers on both Tony and Tim so we could follow exactly where they were taken. That allowed me to get a nest set up and get my chance to take Ulman out. We actually had several snipers at different locations to cover more of the compound. I was the one who was going to shadow my team. When the time came… I missed the shot.”

“You… missed ?” Ducky’s eyebrows rose and the man’s weight shifted backwards.

“Yeah,” Gibbs said softly. “I missed. It was a long one, less room for error. I was just a bit off… the first bullet grazed Ulman’s head and he went down, but he was able to get back up. Takes time to readjust… not like a handgun that allows multiple shots in quick succession. At that distance, to get the accuracy… I couldn’t…” He had to stop talking for a moment, holding up a hand to stop Ducky from interjecting. 

“I got him with the second shot,” he finally continued, “but it took too long. Ulman had time to kill Ziva before I could get him.”

Ducky gazed at him sorrowfully. “He chose to kill her rather than let her live and give himself the chance to escape.”

Gibbs nodded. “I couldn’t stop him, Duck.” 

“Jethro, that’s a terrible burden to carry by yourself.”

“Not doin’ it alone. Talkin’ to you, talked to Tony.”

“You could benefit from talking with Dr. Wolf. Miles is a brilliant if somewhat eccentric psychiatrist, and a highly compassionate individual.”

Gibbs shot Ducky a half-hearted glare. “Don’t need to have my head examined. Not my first rodeo, not even close.”

Ducky sighed, putting his hands in his pockets and looking at his friend thoughtfully. “Losing Ziva is a terrible thing… but I hope you do not hold yourself solely responsible.”

Gibbs looked down and away for a moment, then back at Ducky. “I don’t. She made choices, her father made choices. On another day, Ulman doesn’t move, I make the shot.” He took another deep breath. “Wouldn’t do things differently. Would still make the choice I made when she demanded it.”

Ducky nodded. “You and Anthony are close. He was the first one you chose for your team. Timothy, too, was your choice.”

“Tony’s too,” Gibbs pointed out. 

“Ah, yes, that’s right. He did ask me what I thought of the lad. Quite green, but with a great deal of potential at the time, that he has since exceeded.” Ducky tilted his head. “I always wondered why you gave in when Jenny assigned Ziva to you. You’ve chased off plenty of others, and if you’d insisted, Jenny would have found another place for Ziva. Yet you didn’t. Why?”

Gibbs cleared his throat and blinked away the moisture in his eyes. “Ziva… she shot Ari in my basement. Saved my life that night. I owed her. And when it was time to return the favor, I failed.”

“No,” Ducky said sharply. “You returned the favor in many ways, over the course of years, by keeping her on your team and mentoring her. You gave her a place to belong. Repayment, if it is needed, takes many forms.”

Gibbs looked at Ducky, searching for the truth, and relaxed a little as he found it. “Thanks, Duck.”

“Of course. I call them as I see them, as you well know. Is Anthony still staying with you?”

“Yeah. We’re both better off not being alone.”

“Indeed. I’m glad of it… you are both stronger together than you are apart. I’ve always thought it a shame Anthony wasn’t Antonia, given how well the two of you understand one another.” 

Gibbs blinked at that, looking at Ducky suspiciously. “Not sure that matters,” he said after a moment’s thought.

Ducky looked at him, surprised, then a broad smile bloomed on his face. “That’s marvelous, Jethro! I’m very glad to hear it.”

“Early days yet, Duck. Something we’ve talked about, just the two of us. Timing’s not right.”

“Yes, well, I can see that. Still, good for you. I couldn’t be happier.”

Gibbs was prevented from saying anything else when his phone rang. He grabbed it off his belt and answered. “Yeah, Gibbs.”

“Can we talk?”

“Sure, Abs. I’ll be right there.” He ended the call and replaced his phone. “Gonna go set something else right.”

“I do hope so.” Ducky smiled at him. “I’m glad you told me… about what happened in Somalia as well as what seems to be happening here. My door is always open.”

“Thanks, Duck.” Gibbs reached over to clasp Ducky’s shoulder, then turned and headed for the lab. Ducky set off for Autopsy, and Dr. Miles Wolf smiled to himself and made for the elevator, leaving the spot around the corner where he’d stood unabashedly eavesdropping on the conversation. 

Gibbs walked into the lab and was almost knocked over as Abby flung herself into his arms. “Gibbs, I am so, so sorry. I never should have blamed you. I know about that first shot, Timmy and I figured it out when he told me what happened. I was upset, but he told me I shouldn’t be, that I should research snipers… distance, temperature, wind velocity and direction, barometric pressure, light, and even humidity make a difference! Not even my babies here in the lab could make perfect predictions with so many variables! It wasn’t fair to expect that you could control everything… Saleem Ulman had independent will, you couldn’t stop him from moving at the wrong moment.”

Gibbs returned the hug, relieved that his relationship with Abby was intact. “Thanks, Abby,” he whispered into her ear. 

She squeezed harder before letting him go. “Ducky and Jimmy and Timmy… they all told me I was making things more difficult for you. I’m so sorry, Gibbs. I was just so sad and angry that I lost another friend.” 

“I know, Abs. I’m sorry too.”

Her eyes widened. “You never apologize,” she whispered. 

“Yeah, well… maybe some rules need to be reconsidered.”

“That would be historic! Epic! To witness changes to the rules… that would be unprecedented!”

Gibbs smiled at her. “You good now?”

Abby nodded. “Yes. I mean, I’m not mad at you anymore. I’m still really upset about Ziva, though.” She picked up her stuffed hippo, Bert, and hugged him. 

“You still mad at Tony?”

“No… I was, like I was at you, but Timmy explained the situation, and he let me read his report, so I get it now.”

“Be good to go tell Tony that you’re not mad anymore.”

“He knows?”

“He does.”

Abby made a face. “I made things harder for him too, then.”

Gibbs tilted his head a bit and shrugged. Abby put Bert back down. “Is Tony here? I know Timmy took the day off.”

“Far as I know, he’s at his desk.” Gibbs looked at her thoughtfully. “Let’s go get him and take a late lunch. My treat.”

Abby hugged him again, then took off her lab coat, grabbed her bag, and ran to the elevator, with Gibbs following behind, smiling. 

Meanwhile, Dr. Wolf entered Vance’s office. “Here you go, Director… I’ve signed off on all three.” He handed over several forms. 

Vance took them, motioning for the doctor to take a seat by his desk before paging through them. “You got Gibbs to talk to you?” he asked in disbelief. 

“No indeed. The man does have a reputation, so I thought I might need an alternative approach. I followed him at a distance, and listened in on a conversation he had with Dr. Mallard in a hallway.”

Vance stared at him. “You cheated.”

“Well, I suppose that is one way to look at it. But having read his file, I do believe he’s better off working than marinating in negative thoughts and emotions in his… basement? Do I have that right?”

“You do.” Vance scanned through the forms. “They’re really all good to work?” He looked up, eyebrows raised, clearly skeptical. 

Dr .Wolf nodded. “They really are. Agent McGee is in the best shape. His approach to Officer David’s death is the most logical of the three. I’m not saying they couldn’t all benefit from further counseling, especially Agent DiNozzo, but in terms of fitness for duty, I see no issues. None of them is taking on undue blame, all are capable of professional focus, and none are a danger to themselves or their teammates. It certainly wouldn’t hurt any of them to have some more time off, but all three appear to be rather devoted to their work, so I wouldn’t be at all surprised to hear they refused it.” He shifted in his chair. “Their interactions appear to be based on mutual respect and friendship, and as such they have built-in support. I would, however, recommend holding off on requiring them to take on a fourth team member, as this is the second one they’ve lost.”

Vance nodded. “Agreed. I’ve already told Agent McGee there will be no immediate pressure to take on a fourth, and I’ll make sure Gibbs hears that from me.”

“Excellent. I have offered my services as a counselor to both Agents DiNozzo and McGee… I didn’t do so directly with Agent Gibbs, of course, but the offer stands for him as well.”

“I’ll make sure he’s aware.” Vance smiled slightly. “The fact that you were able to sneak up on him and listen in without him knowing might impress him enough to want to make your acquaintance.”

“I should look forward to that, should it ever come to pass.”

Vance stood, reaching out to shake Dr. Wolf’s hand. He thanked him, the doctor left, and Vance set the forms in the pile to be processed by the appropriate departments. Then he went back to reviewing the latest intel on Eli David and Mossad. 

Chapter Text

Gibbs parked the Challenger and sat there, thinking over the previous evening before heading inside to meet with Vance. He’d sent Tony home, staying to review all their reports ahead of the meeting with Ziva’s father the next morning. The director had stopped by his desk as he was leaving, letting him know they were all cleared for duty and telling him to be at his office early so they could strategize before Eli David arrived. 

Gibbs sipped his coffee and his brow furrowed as he remembered part of their conversation.

“I didn’t talk to the shrink. How am I clear?”

“You’re slipping, Gibbs. Dr. Wolf listened in on a conversation you had with Dr. Mallard and based his evaluation on that.”

Gibbs was torn between annoyance that their conversation hadn’t been as private as he’d thought, chagrin that they’d talked about such a sensitive subject in a public hallway, and amusement at the thought of a covert shrink. 

He shifted the coffee to his left hand, turned off the engine, and drank some more, smiling softly as he thought over the time spent with Tony after he’d gone home. Tony had gone to his apartment to pick up some clothes and other items and been at the house before Gibbs had arrived. Gibbs had grilled steaks, they’d talked about their lunch with Abby. She had hugged Tony so hard he was wheezing for several minutes afterwards, and she had apologized to both of them so many times Gibbs had been forced to give her a light tap on the head to get her to stop. She’d cried a little when Tony told her about the peace and acceptance he’d seen in Ziva’s eyes, but she’d seemed more like herself after hearing it.

After they’d gotten home in the evening, they’d gone to the basement for a while so Gibbs could work on the boat. They hadn’t discussed Tony’s conversation with the shrink. When it was getting late, there hadn’t been any hesitation from either of them; they’d gone to bed together, curled up with each other, and slept. Gibbs wasn’t sure what was going to happen between them, but he was hopeful they were moving toward something that would make them both happy. 

He drained his coffee, looked down into the empty cup, sighed regretfully, and got out of the car to go meet with the director. 

An hour and a half later, Gibbs came down the stairs and breezed past the team’s desks. “Abby’s lab,” he said brusquely, using a wave of his hand to indicate that Tony and Tim should follow. A few minutes later, having refused to answer any questions, he marched into the lab where Abby, Ducky, and Jimmy were waiting. 

Everyone formed a loose semi-circle around Gibbs, who then began speaking. “Ziva’s father will be here shortly.” He turned to “He told Vance he wants to see Ziva before we meet.”

Ducky nodded. “All is ready for him.”

“Good.” Now Gibbs looked at Jimmy. “You, stay here. Need you to help Tim.”

Jimmy blinked and started to speak but cut himself off when Abby elbowed him in the ribs. 

“Abs,” Gibbs said. “I know you want to give Director David a piece of your mind -” Abby nodded vigorously - “Don’t. We don’t need an international incident. Let me and Vance handle this.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed. “Just you and Vance?”

Gibbs gave Tony his best impassive stare. “Me and Vance. You are to stay here. That’s a direct order.”

“Gibbs, that’s not -”

“I mean it, Tony. Eli David is not going to be in a forgiving mood. Yes, I know you tripped him up in Israel, and yes, you can hold your own. No, I do not want SecNav or some desk jockey to give in to any demands that we all get sent to Israel for trial.” He held Tony’s gaze; the two men stared at each other for a long moment before Tony frowned and looked away, shaking his head. 

Gibbs relaxed a little at that small capitulation. “Good.” He looked at Tim and Jimmy. “You two, sit on Tony if you have to.”

“Hey!” Tony shot Gibbs a half-hearted glare, and Gibbs shrugged at him. 

“If I may,” Ducky interjected thoughtfully, “I believe it would behoove us all to recall that this man has now lost all three of his children.”

They were all silent for a moment, then Abby said, “I do feel bad for him… but he’s the one who sent Ziva to Somalia in the first place.”

Gibbs sighed. “Losing his daughter could make him more dangerous.” Abby’s eyes widened, and she stepped forward as if she wanted to hug him, but he held up a hand. “Not now, Abs.” He surveyed the group and repeated, “Stay. Here.”

He turned and left. Ducky reached up to pat Tony’s shoulder, then he too left to await Eli David’s arrival. 

Roughly two hours later, Eli was seated at the middle of the large table in Vance’s office; the man looked tired and was uncharacteristically slumped in his seat. Vance sat at the head of the table, and Gibbs sat opposite Eli, who was reading copies of the reports filed by Gibbs, Tony, Tim, and Dr. Mallard, as well as the partially redacted mission reports from those in charge of the attack on Ulman’s camp. 

The director of Mossad looked up at Gibbs as he finished reading the final page. “It is said you never miss a target.”

Gibbs met his gaze, saying nothing. 

Eli made a noise low in his throat, then turned to look at Vance. “Leon… how is it that none of your agents are hurt and my daughter is dead?”

Gibbs spoke up before Vance could respond. “My men were both beaten and denied food and water. Agent DiNozzo was drugged to force him to talk.”

Eli looked at him for a long moment. “Explain to me why your men lived and my Ziva did not.”

Gibbs gestured toward the reports. “The answers are all there.”

“Gibbs,” Vance said, the warning clear in his voice. 

“Leon,” Eli said, “I have visited my daughter’s body downstairs in your morgue. She was the last of my children. I told you several days ago that I expected explanations and those responsible held accountable. So… what is being done?”

Vance met Eli’s gaze. “I have reviewed all the reports. Agents Gibbs, DiNozzo, and McGee have been cleared of any wrongdoing during the mission.” Vance stood and walked over to the shelves holding the liquor. He picked up a bottle and held it up, questioning. Eli shook his head. Vance set the bottle back down, then walked back to the table and remained standing. “Ulman’s camp has been dismantled. His surviving people are imprisoned. All computer files have been shared with you. Ulman himself is dead and buried. His DNA and that of his people is being used to track their families, and through them, their friends and other associates. The supply chains have dried up, and the smaller groups that relied on his connections have largely disbanded.”

Eli listened quietly. “And what of those responsible for Ziva’s death?”

Irritated, Vance leaned forward, placing his hands on the table. “Ulman killed Ziva, Eli. No one else.”

Eli looked at Gibbs. “Perhaps you missed the shot intentionally,” he said softly. “Ziva defied you. She put your favorite in his place. You could not control her.”

Gibbs met Eli’s gaze, then suddenly laughed. “Ah, that’s rich,” he said, shaking his head. “I’d have to be a better shot than I am to intentionally graze a target’s head at that distance.” He gave Eli a dark look. "Ziva never defied me. She did her best to remain loyal to you and work for me at the same time, and that wasn’t easy. And she never got the best of Tony. He just let her think she did.” Gibbs stared at Eli, challenging him. “She was there because you put her there.”

Eli frowned, but before he could say anything, Vance spoke up. “Eli, my friend. I understand your pain. If it had been my daughter, I would be looking for answers beyond the obvious too.” He took his seat, looking seriously at his Mossad counterpart. “Ziva chose not to return to NCIS.” He paused, but Eli’s face remained impassive, making it clear he didn’t dispute that statement. “We didn’t send her to Somalia. It’s my understanding that Mossad sent a Kidon team after Saleem Ulman.”

Eli nodded. “We did. Ziva was a member of that team; there were others.”

“Our intelligence indicates they were on a ship that sank off the coast of Somalia,” Gibbs cut in. “The Damocles .”

Eli pursed his lips, then nodded once. “Yes. They survived the loss of the ship and made it ashore. Most were injured. Ziva continued on.”

Gibbs frowned; his heart ached for how she must have felt going on alone. “Ziva always valued the mission.”

Eli’s lips twitched into a slight smile. “Ziva knew her duty to me and to her country.”

Gibbs’s eyes narrowed. “So you sent her on a suicide mission?” 

Vance cut in. “You knew she had survived the wreck.”

“Yes. Her team leader informed me that she intended to complete the mission.” Eli shifted in his chair, glaring at Gibbs. 

Vance’s expression turned sympathetic. “Would you have called her off if you could? Sending a single agent, no matter how skilled, into a terrorist camp in the middle of a desert has low probability of success.”

For the first time, Eli looked uncomfortable. “I had no way to reach her. And my daughter could be… stubborn.” 

Vance’s eyes narrowed. “That doesn’t answer the question, and you know it.”

The two men stared at each other. Gibbs kept his eyes on Eli, observing carefully. 

Eli’s expression turned calculating. “Amsterdam,” he said quietly. Gibbs had no idea what he was talking about, but it had the feel of a test. 

Vance’s eyebrows rose, and he shook his head. “Neither here nor there. And I’ve already told you we’re even.”

Eli grunted and shifted in his chair. “You would continue to allow a possible unidentified risk to the security of both our nations to operate?”

“What happened in Amsterdam is a separate issue, and I hope we will someday proceed as we’ve discussed… but that has no bearing on what happened in Somalia,” Vance stated firmly. “So.. would you have called her off?”

Eli frowned, gazing at the surface of the table and tapping it several times. “In hindsight, yes.” He looked up at Vance, ignoring Gibbs. “I valued my daughter, Leon, although I can understand how you might think I was more concerned with her abilities than her identity.” He sighed. “The team’s primary order was to assassinate Saleem Ulman; you know as well as I that he had no obvious, capable successor.” He fell silent long enough that Gibbs’ eyes met Vance’s; the director gave a minute shake of his head, so they waited. 

“They had secondary orders,” he finally continued. “In the event of capture, they were to gather as much intel as possible, appear to switch allegiance, and infiltrate the organization.”

Vance stared at him; Gibbs tensed. 

“You didn’t try to find out if Ziva was still alive because she might have been engaged in the fallback,” Vance stated. 

Eli nodded shortly. “I weighed the potential for her success against the likelihood of her death, assuming she survived her failure to complete the first objective.” 

Gibbs bristled at ‘failure’ but forced himself to stay still and quiet. 

Eli glanced at him sardonically, then continued. “When you informed me of your intent to send a team to Somalia, I assumed one of three outcomes: Ziva was already dead at the hands of her captors, or you would rescue her from captivity, or she had accomplished the secondary goal and would use the opportunity to dispatch Ulman and be waiting for you to clean up after her.” He took a deep breath, dropping his gaze. “It did not occur to me that there was a fourth possibility.”

All three men sat quietly, until Eli suddenly rose to his feet. “I will take my daughter home,” he announced. He then scrutinized Gibbs, who, along with Vance, had followed Eli’s lead and stood. “You did not kill Ziva,” he said slowly. “Neither did your agents. I believe there is a saying… a butterfly fans its wings and a hurricane is the end result?” He nodded to himself. “You and your Agent DiNozzo may have been the butterflies, Agent Gibbs.” He stood for a moment and briefly allowed them to see his grief. “But so may I have been as well.” He blinked rapidly, then looked at Vance. “She wanted to be a ballerina, did you know that?”

Vance shook his head. 

Eli took a step toward the door, then halted and turned back toward Gibbs. “Another day, and I might have approached this differently. But I have Ziva’s voice in my ear, telling me she cared for you and your team… and that I should move on. This is perhaps no more than the wishful thinking of an old man, but for once in my life I will be guided by my daughter, rather than the reverse.” 

Gibbs inclined his head in acknowledgment. 

Eli looked at him thoughtfully, then added, “Perhaps my Ziva and your Kelly, they will meet and talk about us in the next world, yes?”

Gibbs drew in a sharp breath, then exhaled slowly. “Perhaps,” he replied, in a tone that would have sent his team scrambling for cover. 

Eli waited a moment, then smiled without humor and inclined his head toward Gibbs. He looked from Gibbs to Vance and back. “Your Dr. Mallard has impressed upon me that you and your team may wish to say your goodbyes to my daughter. My plane will leave as soon as it is ready. I will go to the airport, then I will send some of my people to bring her to me.” 

Vance stepped around the table and held out his hand; Eli shook it. “We will talk of Amsterdam another time, my friend. Shalom.”

“Shalom.” Eli nodded, then walked to the door and left, flanked by his bodyguards. 

Vance and Gibbs exchanged glances; Gibbs walked to the door and shut it firmly. 

The director’s eyes met his. “He was trying to get a rise out of you with that parting shot… but overall that did go better than I expected,” Vance admitted.

Gibbs closed his eyes for a moment and tried to let the anger go. Opening them, he commented, “It was almost too easy.”

Vance sighed. “Maybe not. His hands may have been tied by the need to preserve relations between our countries. And I know it may not have seemed like it, especially given what happened with Haswari, but Eli loved his children. He told me about them in Amsterdam, where we first met.”

Gibbs raised an eyebrow, and Vance shook his head. “Need to know, Gibbs… you don’t, at least not yet.”

Gibbs nodded. “You’re the Director, Leon.” Sighing quietly, he turned away. “Gonna go get my team,” he said, as he headed toward the door. 

“Gibbs,” Vance called out; Gibbs stopped and turned. 

“Tell your team you’re all on mandatory bereavement leave. That includes Dr. Mallard, Ms. Scuito, and Mr. Palmer. Take the week. Get some distance and perspective.”

Gibbs’ brow furrowed and he opened his mouth to protest but was stopped by the director’s raised hand. “Non-negotiable, Gibbs. Second team member you’ve lost. I don’t want you out in the field until you’ve had a little more time to get your heads on straight… I don’t care what the psych evals say.”

Gibbs hesitated, then nodded and headed for the door. 

“Gibbs!”

He turned, one hand resting on the door handle, and looked back. Vance was standing behind his desk. “We’ll look into a memorial for her,” he assured the lead agent.

Gibbs nodded once. “Thanks, Leon.” Then he left the room and went in search of his team.

Chapter Text

Silence descended after Gibbs left the lab. Then Jimmy spoke up. “Director Vance wouldn’t really send you to Israel, would he?”

Tony shrugged. “He won’t have a choice if SecNav orders it… and if SecNav doesn’t, SecDef might.”

“Sec…?” Jimmy looked confused. 

“Secretary of Defense,” Tim explained. He watched as Tony tilted his head first one way, then another, trying to stretch his neck, then wandered off into Abby’s office. Tim exchanged looks with Abby, then followed Tony. 

Tony was gazing at some of the pictures Abby had put up on the walls when Tim joined him. “How are you holding up?” Tim asked. 

Tony sighed. “Okay, I guess.”

Tim’s eyebrows rose. “Wow… I expected you to say you’re fine.”

Tony laughed; the sound was bitter. “Nope. Don’t think I can carry that off. But are you okay? I got you into more than you bargained for.”

“I knew what I was getting into. Well… I knew enough to know it wouldn’t be a cake walk. I would have gone regardless, Tony.” 

“I know.” Tony met his eyes. “You’re a good friend and a good agent, McGee. I don’t think I’ve said that enough.”

Tim smiled. “Thanks, Tony. I appreciate it.”

They were silent for a moment. “So,” Tony said, “you’re really doing alright?”

“Yeah. I actually am. Dr. Wolf helped me look at things differently.” Tim crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m never going to be okay with what happened to Ziva, but I’m not blaming myself. Not as much as I was, anyway.”

Tony smiled. “Good.” He turned from the pictures and leaned back against the wall. “Gonna take me a little longer, I think.”

Tim nodded. “I’m going to talk to Dr. Wolf again at some point. Maybe that would help you too?”

Tony snorted and didn’t say anything else. 

Tim smiled. “Got it.” He sat on Abby’s desk. “You still staying with Gibbs?”

“Yeah.” Tony smiled softly, prompting Tim’s eyebrows to rise. “It’s surprising… you get him out of the functional mute zone, and he’s actually pretty helpful.”

“That’s great, Tony,” Tim said, his voice sincere. “You know… I think he’s probably one of the few people you would let help you.”

“Huh.” Tony looked at him. “You might be right.” He smiled broadly. “Look at you, McShrink!”

Tim rolled his eyes. “I see normal service has resumed.” He grinned at Tony, though, and Tony’s smile softened to something real. 

They walked back to the lab, where Jimmy and Abby were talking. Jimmy looked at Tony, then at the door to the hallway, then back at Tony, who rolled his eyes but smiled at him. “Relax, Jimmy. I’m not going to make a run for it.” He shrugged and sighed. “I’m not happy about it, but in this case Gibbs is probably right. Best for the team lead and the Director to handle it. Daddy David probably has several Mossad goons with him anyway; I wouldn’t get anywhere near that meeting.”

“Gibbs will fix it,” Abby said, punctuating her statement with a nod. 

Tony smiled at her. “Glad your faith is restored.”

Abby returned the smile, then looked at Tim. “Timmy reminded me to look at the evidence.” Her face fell as she looked from Tim to Tony and back. “I really am sorry that I went to the dark side for a while.”

Tony smiled, opening his arms; she ran forward and they hugged. “We’re good, Abs.”

They all talked about mundane things until Ducky returned a while later, his face somber. “Director David has spent some time with Ziva,” he reported. “He spoke to her in Hebrew at length, so I have limited information, but his body language and tone of voice are those of a very unhappy man.”

“I can’t imagine losing all my children the way he did,” Jimmy said.

There didn’t seem to be much to say after that, so they were quiet for a while, until Ducky started telling some rambling stories. For once, they were all grateful.

Gibbs eventually returned, and those who were sitting stood and waited for the news. His expression was somber, but not angry. “It’s done,” he announced. 

Tony exhaled in relief. “So we’re not sacrificial lambs being sent to slaughter in Israel?”

Gibbs shook his head. “Nope.” He raised an eyebrow in amusement. “Hope that’s alright with you, DiNozzo.”

“That’s a fervent yes, Boss.”

Gibbs smiled slightly, then looked at everyone. “We have a little time before Eli’s people are coming for Ziva… if you want to see her.” 

Abby nodded, reaching out to grip Tim’s hand. 

Ducky and Jimmy looked at each other. “We’ve already said our goodbyes,” Ducky said, “and we’ll have a few moments as we get her ready for her last trip home.”

Gibbs nodded. “Vance has us all on bereavement leave. We have a week off.” Abby began to protest, but a look from Gibbs stopped her. “It’s an opportunity to go visit your brother,” he pointed out. 

She blinked at that, her expression thoughtful. “That’s a good idea, Gibbs!”

“Even me?” Jimmy asked. 

Gibbs nodded. 

Ducky smiled, clasping Jimmy’s shoulder. “We’re the ones she was closest to. I wouldn’t mind some time for reflection and to think about how to honor her.” His gaze traveled from person to person. “I would like to invite all of you to my home, toward the end of our unanticipated time off. We can reminisce and perhaps work on healing together.

“We can make it pot luck,” Abby suggested. 

Even Gibbs agreed to be there. 

Abby and Tim looked at each other, then led the way out of the lab to Autopsy, still holding hands. Ducky and Jimmy went in to get Ziva’s body ready for viewing again; after a few moments, Ducky waved to the group just inside the door. Abby pulled Tim forward while Gibbs and Tony remained where they were, watching as first Abby, then Tim talked to Ziva while Ducky and Jimmy stood at the far end of the room. They stood quietly as Abby broke down and began crying; Tim put his arm around her waist and stepped close. 

They joined Tony and Gibbs several minutes later. Abby’s eyes were red and Tim had drying tear tracks on his face. Abby let go of Tim’s hand, hugged Tony, then Gibbs, then took Tim’s hand again and they left. 

Gibbs looked at Tony, who took a step backwards without meeting Gibbs’ eyes. Gibbs walked forward until he was standing next to the drawer holding Ziva’s body. He looked down at her pale face and had a sudden flashback to Kate’s funeral. 

“Hey Ziver.” He paused, looking down at her. “You did good,” he said quietly. “I wish…" He let his voice trail off, then shook his head, smiling weakly as he reached out to stroke her hair. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. 

He stood there a moment longer, then turned and walked back to Tony, who stood where he’d left him, clearly indecisive. 

“Part of me wants to remember her as she was,” Tony explained in response to Gibbs’ questioning gaze. Gibbs nodded. Tony pulled a picture from his jacket pocket and handed it to him. “I found this in my desk.” 

The picture showed Ziva laughing with McGee, her eyes sparkling as she looked at Tony, who was looking back at them with an expression torn between laughter and embarrassment. “Abby took this, when we were decompressing after work one day… I think this was just before the case that took us to Stillwater.”

Gibbs smiled at the picture before handing it back to Tony. “Up to you. You won’t get another chance, though.”

Tony looked at him thoughtfully, then nodded. “Right… no regrets.” He squared his shoulders and walked over to the open drawer, the picture still in one hand. “Hey, Zee.” He looked down at her for a long moment. “You look… peaceful.” He let out a short laugh. “If your ghost is here, I bet you’re really frustrated that you can’t threaten me with a paperclip right now.” Tony reached up to brush some moisture from his eyes. “I know we didn’t always understand each other,” he said quietly, “but I like to think we’d have gotten past that and been friends. Real ones.” He sighed. “I’m going to carry you around with me for a long time… I’ll try to make that happen in a good way.” Raising his hand, he kissed the tips of his fingers and pressed them to her forehead. “Rest well,” he whispered. He stood there a few seconds longer, looking at her, then deliberately turned away, raising the picture to look at it for a long moment before putting it in his pocket and walking back to Gibbs. 

Gibbs looked over at Ducky and nodded. The ME returned the nod, and he and Jimmy moved forward to get her ready and have the paperwork set for Eli’s people when they arrived. Gibbs put a hand on Tony’s back. “Let’s go home.”

They left at the same time, but Tony went to his apartment first to pick up clothes, a book he’d been reading, and his portable DVD player along with several movies he thought Gibbs might like… and Buckaroo Banzai, which he didn’t think Gibbs would like at all, but knew he’d enjoy Gibbs’ reactions before the man gave up and went to the basement. Once he arrived at Gibbs’ house, parking his car next to the truck, he went to the guest room to drop off his belongings, changed into jeans and a sweatshirt, and went to find Gibbs. 

Gibbs was sitting on the edge of the deck, in the same place he’d been the other day. Tony opened the door and asked, “Want a beer?”

“Yeah.”

Tony brought the drinks outside, handing one to Gibbs before sitting next to him. They clinked the bottles and drank, after which Tony looked carefully at Gibbs’ face to read his mood, but found it difficult; Gibbs' expression was fairly blank. 

“So… how tough was it with Eli?”

Gibbs drank some more beer and sighed. “Could have been worse. Not sure it could have gone much better than it did.”

Tony’s eyes narrowed as he looked at Gibbs. “He said something that bothered you.”

Gibbs glanced at Tony and raised an eyebrow, then nodded. “Several somethings.” 

Tony waited for a moment, but Gibbs didn’t follow up. “Want to share?”

Gibbs sighed. “Said maybe I missed the shot on purpose.”

“What?!”

Gibbs held up a hand. “He was trying to get a rise out of me. I didn’t take the bait.”

“What reason could you possibly have to do that?” Tony spluttered. 

“In reality? None. He suggested I wanted to get rid of her because I couldn’t control her.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“I know.” Gibbs reached up to scratch his face, then sighed again. He didn’t really want to talk about this, but if he and Tony were going to have a closer relationship, he knew he needed to try to open up. “He admitted that we weren’t directly responsible. But he also said we were… contributing factors. Did admit he was too.”

Tony considered that. “Fair point,” he conceded. 

“Yeah.” 

Tony turned to face Gibbs. “I don’t think either of those two things are bothering you all that much. The first you know isn’t true, the second we’ve already acknowledged is.”

Gibbs took another sip of his beer, then studied the bottle as he held it in his hands. Tony waited. Finally, Gibbs said quietly, “As he left… he suggested Ziva and Kelly might be talking together on the other side.”

Tony stared at Gibbs, unsure of what to say. He drank a third of his beer, then hesitantly spoke up. “Does the idea… does it bother you?”

Gibbs looked at Tony and gave him a small smile. “The idea of Ziva and Kelly comparing notes? Not at all. Her father using my daughter to get me off balance? Oh yeah.”

Tony reached over and took Gibbs’ hand in his. “Pretty rotten thing to do, since he knows what it feels like to lose a child… three times over.”

Gibbs shifted his body and rolled his shoulders, then squeezed Tony’s hand. “Yeah.”

“Want me to ease some of that tension?” Tony offered.

Gibbs looked at him, then nodded. “Sure.”

Tony set his beer down, grabbed a chair, and sat behind Gibbs, massaging his shoulders. He found some knots right away; Gibbs lowered his head and groaned appreciatively. Tony grinned, but didn’t say anything for a while, focusing on loosening up the muscles. 

A while later, he got up, flexing his hands and fingers, and reclaimed his beer and his seat next to Gibbs. “Anything in particular you want to do while we’re on leave?”

Gibbs thought about it. “I’d like to get on the range, do some practice with my rifle. Don’t want to miss a shot like that again.”

Tony nodded. “Good idea. Maybe you can teach me a little bit about being a sniper…” His voice trailed off as he suddenly flashed back to that room and Saleem Ulman staring down at him. 

“Remember when I told you my boss was a sniper?”

“Oh no…” The bottle slipped from Tony’s nerveless fingers. Gibbs turned quickly toward him and grabbed Tony’s arm, seeing the blood drain from his face. 

“Tony? What -”

Tony looked at Gibbs, horrified. He swayed a little where he sat. Gibbs scooted close to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “What’s wrong, Tony?”

Tony blinked, then dropped his head into his hands, gripping handfuls of hair. “It was my fault, Gibbs.”

“Tony, we talked about this… it wasn’t -”

“It was!” Tony shrugged off Gibbs’ hold and leapt to his feet. He swayed again, and Gibbs jumped up, grabbing Tony’s shoulders. 

Tony stared at him. “I told him, Gibbs… I warned him! I said it… ‘remember when I told you my boss was a sniper’... I said that. And he looked at the window and he knew… and you missed and it was my fault!”

Gibbs reached for Tony as the younger man started to back away from him. He got hold of Tony’s sweatshirt and pulled him close, wrapping him up in a tight hug.

Tony was panicking. “That shot missed because of what I said, Gibbs! I opened my big mouth and I gave the game away. Ziva died because of me!”

“No, Tony.” Gibbs hung on as Tony tried to get away from him. “That wasn’t you. That was the drugs talking. Remember? You were drugged. You didn’t have full control of what you were saying.”

Tony quieted somewhat, though Gibbs could feel him shaking. “How…” Tony’s voice trailed off, and he started again. “How could you possibly want to be with me… how could you want us when it’s my fault. You missed, Ziva’s dead, Tim could have died too… and me… and you would have blamed yourself, you wouldn’t have known what really happened.”

Gibbs held on to Tony and talked softly, his mouth next to Tony’s ear. “It. Wasn’t. Your. Fault. And I couldn’t ask for a better partner, both on and off the job.”

Tony stopped shaking. Gibbs pulled back, keeping a grip on Tony’s arms. “Tony. Look at how you’re reacting. You care. You care as much as anyone I’ve ever known. Of course I want such a caring person in my life.”

Tony stared at him, blinking rapidly. “But -”

Gibbs laid a finger against Tony’s lips. “No buts. You’re not perfect, I’m not perfect, Ziva wasn’t perfect.” He hesitated, then added, “Ziva’s father… that saying, about a butterfly causing a hurricane? You know it?”

Tony nodded slowly, and Gibbs dropped his hand, setting it on Tony’s shoulder. He cleared his throat, and said, “We were all butterflies in the hurricane of Ziva’s death.”

Some of the color was coming back to Tony’s face; he stared at Gibbs and his lips twitched up into a near smile. “That was kinda poetic, Jethro… and possibly the strangest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”

Gibbs huffed out a laugh. “Got you to calm down, didn’t it?” He looked seriously at Tony. “I mean it, Tony. Ulman might have moved anyway, regardless of what you said or didn’t say. I might have missed the shot without him moving. He might have chosen to kill you instead, and as much as I miss Ziva, I’m thankful that didn’t happen.” He looked at Tony, who was still paler than usual. “C’mon, let’s go inside. You need to lie down.” 

They went to the guest bedroom, took off their shoes, and both lay down on top of the covers. Tony was on his back, staring up at the ceiling. Gibbs was on his side, head propped up on one hand, the other entwined with one of Tony’s, resting on his stomach. 

“Talk to me,” Gibbs urged after watching Tony think for several minutes. 

“I’m always gonna feel responsible for what happened to her,” Tony admitted. 

Gibbs nodded. “Me too. But neither of us is the reason why it happened.”

Tony turned his head to look at Gibbs. “Ulman is the reason it happened, because he’s the one who actually killed her.”

“Yeah. We all did things that brought us to this point. Hell, if Ari hadn’t killed Kate, Ziva would never have been on the team. If Eli had paid attention to what his daughter wanted, she would never have been in Mossad. If… if I hadn’t lost my family, I would never have become an agent.” Gibbs stopped talking, because he really wasn’t sure what he would say if Tony asked him to compare him with Shannon and Kelly.

Thankfully, Tony knew Gibbs too well. “You really want this? Us?”

“I really do, Tony. I think we’re worth trying.”

Tony turned to face him, mimicking Gibbs’ position by propping his own head on one hand. “Rule twelve?” he asked. 

Gibbs shrugged. “Rule five,” he countered.

Tony smiled, then said. “Rule eight. You can’t possibly know if we’d be any good together.”

“So? Rule three.”

“The double check one?”

“Uh huh.”

“Okay… rule ten.”

Gibbs chuckled. “You’re not a case, Tony.” He thought for a moment. “Rule fifteen.”

“Different kind of team,” Tony mused. “Rule four?”

Gibbs nodded slowly. “I talk to you, you talk to me, we’re good.”

“We could be,” Tony said slowly. 

“Yeah.”

Their eyes met for a long moment. Gibbs could see the doubt in Tony’s eyes, and he knew his friend well enough to know it was directed at himself, not at Gibbs or at the two of them together. He moved forward, pulling Tony into a hug, which was immediately returned. 

“I wanna try, Jethro,” Tony muttered.

“Me too, Tony… me too.”

They stayed like that for a long time, until Tony’s body relaxed, and Gibbs realized he’d fallen asleep. He smiled, shifted position until his head rested on Tony’s chest, his arms still around him, and let himself start to drift off. He was almost asleep when he sensed a change in the room and opened his eyes. There was a shape in the doorway, one he couldn’t quite make out until something shifted, and he was looking at Ziva, a younger version who was smiling at him. Her arm was around a girl who resembled her; Gibbs’ eyes widened as he realized it was her sister, Tali. 

Ziva’s lips moved without sound. Gibbs stared at them as they shaped words: Tell Tony butterflies are necessary . Ziva’s gaze was intent. I am alright. She looked at Tali, then back at Gibbs, smiling again. We are alright. He nodded, and she and Tali faded from sight. 

Gibbs stared at the doorway for a long time, unsure as to whether he’d been dreaming, then fell asleep with a slight smile on his face.