Standard Disclaimer: Not mine, song or characters. Just making 'em dance on puppet strings for your entertainment.

A/N: I know nothing about mental breakdowns, psychotic or otherwise, so I'll apologize for any medical issues before we start. This is my first song fic so I hope you enjoy. This fic was started last August and put aside for more pressing bunnies.

A Thousand Miles from Nowhere

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Song: A Thousand Miles from Nowhere by Dwight Yoakum.

I'm a thousand miles from nowhere
Time don't matter to me
'Cause I'm a thousand miles from nowhere
And there's no place I want to be

I got heartaches in my pocket
I got echoes in my head
And all that I keep hearing
Are the cruel, cruel things that you said

I'm a thousand miles from nowhere
Time don't matter to me
'Cause I'm a thousand miles from nowhere
And there's no place I want to be

Oh, I
Oh, I
Oh, I
Oh, I
Oh, I
Oh, I
Oh, I
Oh, I

I got bruises on my memory
I got tear stains on my hands
And in the mirror there's a vision
Of what used to be a man

I'm a thousand miles from nowhere
Time don't matter to me
'Cause I'm a thousand miles from nowhere
And there's no place I want to be

I'm a thousand miles from nowhere
Time don't matter to me
'Cause I'm a thousand miles from nowhere
And there's no place I want to be

Ohhh, I

I'm a thousand miles from nowhere

I'm a thousand miles from nowhere

.~.

When he thought about it later or rather when he was forced to go over every miniscule episode of his life in excruciating detail, it was painfully obvious that the cracks were there, only somehow no one ever saw them least of all Tony. Not until the final crack sent him through the ice down into the cold, dark water unable to breathe and no way out.

.~.

Chapter 1 – A thousand Miles from Nowhere

.~.

It'd been a bad day on top of a bad week and Tony's limit was so far gone he couldn't see a hint of it in the rear view mirror anymore. Everyone was tired and frustrated and expected Tony to keep it all together and be Gibbs. They'd never gone this long with so many unsolved cases and with Gibbs out in LA with Vance things were only going to get worse. Nobody but Gibbs could be Gibbs.

They were still processing the murder scene of a marine shot in the back of the head and found in Rock Creek Park when they got the call about a dead navy lieutenant, possible suicide. Tony grumbled loudly into the phone arguing with dispatch that they couldn't possibly take the case right now, but there was no one else to send and Tony wrote down the information and prayed for strength or Gibbs to come back.

"I'm done. Got a suicide to go check out. Bag and tag Probie and Probette, you're almost done. Ride with Ducky in the truck. Palmer, you're with me." Tony turned away ignoring their protests and started for the car.

McGee followed him still protesting that Tony shouldn't go alone, it wasn't protocol. "Ziva can go with Ducky. I—"

Tony turned around and tried out his version of Gibbs' glare. "Did I stutter McWhiny?" McGee shook his head and started to protest one more time when Tony interrupted him. "Then why are you arguing?" Tony turned around and started walking toward the car while trying to stretch the knots out of his back. "Palmer!" He shouted before lifting the phone to his ear.

Tony leaned against the car making notes waiting for Palmer to gather enough equipment to deal with a suicide before Ducky could unload the dead marine and meet them at the new scene. He watched McGee stomp away, frowning at the anger practically radiating off him. Something had to break soon or they'd all be crazy. Unless Gibbs came back early and killed them first. He snorted and got in the car to program the GPS.

He ignored Palmer's excited chatter, doing his own impression of Gibbs' stony silence until Palmer got the message and stared out the window. Gibbs had been gone before and he'd managed without having to pull out his inner 'Gibbs' persona', but they just wouldn't pay attention to him when he used his Team Leader voice or face. Tony shelved the thought for now, too many dead bodies and Gibbs was on the other side of the country with his own problems to solve.

A police car was parked out front of the standard white-picket-fence house in the standard yuppie neighborhood and neighbors stood around in groups, whispering at each other. Tony sighed and pasted on a pleasant face, knowing a smile was out of the question.

He pulled up behind the police car, not waiting on Palmer who went to the trunk to lug out the heavy cases. The officer was still inside the house and Tony shook his head. If this had been a crime scene, Gibbs would've had someone's head. No one was watching the door; no one was talking to the neighbors and taking statements. He strode through the wide open front door and hoped things were more under control inside.

Hearing hushed voices in another room, Tony walked through the unguarded house shaking his head. Gibbs was going to blow a gasket when he read his report.

He found them in the family room. The lieutenant was in dress whites lying on her back on the couch, bright red blood matting the side of her head, one hand flung out as if reaching for the gun lying half under the coffee table, blood slowly dripping from her fingers. Just like… He swallowed hard and wrenched his eyes away. Taking a deep breath, Tony almost suffocated from the smell—fresh blood. The uniformed officer was crouched on the carpet, both arms around a dark-haired boy about eight or nine. Hell. Tony's lips tightened. Why the hell hadn't he taken the kid outside?

"Officer?" He skirted widely around the couch resolutely keeping his eyes averted and approached them, holding his breath as long as possible before taking quick, shallow gulps of air. The boy's face was white and frozen, dark eyes haunted, filled with terror. He knew that look. The kid clutched the officer's hand silently, not wiping at the tears sliding down his face. He must have found the body—his mother. Tony's heart stuttered and he forced the memory down, forced his eyes to stay on the officer. No. No. No.

The officer turned and stood, leaving one hand on the boy's shoulder. "Officer Remmick. You NCIS?" He didn't seem to notice as the boy twisted around to stare at his mother, his face unreadable.

"Yeah. Special Agent Tony DiNozzo." Tony pulled out his badge and flashed his identification before opening his notebook to jot down any information when he heard a commotion at the front door. Palmer, he thought with a frown and asked about the body.

"Son found her." Officer Remmick offered, absently patting the boy's head. "He called 911 and—"

A man burst into the room and stumbled to a halt, crazed eyes going to the body. "Debbie!" He screamed and ran to the couch, pulling the body into his arms. "No, no, no." He wailed into her hair rocking her back and forth.

"Sir! Please step back! You can't touch her!" Tony strode over to the husband and forced him away, letting the body drop back on the couch with a thud. Jerking out of Tony's arms, he wiped at his face smearing blood and caught sight of the frightened boy. "Sir, please. You need to step outside." Tony looked around for Palmer and wished he'd called for backup. Grimacing at his hand with distaste, he wiped a smear of blood off against his pants.

"You!" With a scream of rage, the man narrowed crazed eyes at the silent boy, forgotten across the room. The boy jerked at his father's cry, but didn't take his eyes off his mother's body. "You did this! You killed her!" Snarling, the man pushed an unresisting Tony out of the way and grabbed the boy, shaking him violently and screaming loudly. "You little bastard! You killed your mother! This is all your fault!"

Officer Remmick gasped and yanked the boy away from his father. "Stop this sir! He's just a boy!" The officer picked the boy up and held him against his chest, walking out of the room with a short nod to Tony. The father ran behind him still shrieking at his son.

Tony stood silently, unable to move watching the blood spread across the white carpet. He'd seen violent death on numerous occasions, and heard many words used to describe the spread of blood: a stain, a blossom, a bloom, even dark fingers of blood, but no matter what flowery words were used, it was all the same. The life flowed out into the white carpet and your mother was just—gone.

Through the rush of blood pounding in his ears, Tony heard someone calling his name from far away, but he was mesmerized, fascinated at the design. Red on white, just like…. Just like … "No, no, no." He whispered frantically trying to tear his eyes away.

"Your fault, you little bastard!" He heard the father shouting from the other room and Tony clenched his eyes shut at the sharp pain holding both palms out in surrender. "You did this! You killed your own mother!"

"No. No. No." The merest whisper, Palmer barely heard finally making it into the room, still looking backwards at the scene at the front door. "I didn't mean to…please."

"Tony? I called for backup. Ducky's on his way and McGee will be here as soon as he can." Palmer dumped the cases and knelt to open one. "Tony?" When Tony didn't answer, Palmer looked up and with only one hand gloved, he stood and walked cautiously over to Tony who stood staring at the body. "Tony, are you okay?" He touched Tony's arm with the gloved hand and when Tony didn't react, he shook his arm harder. "Tony what's wrong?"

"My fault. It's all my fault." Tony whispered and his face crumpled. "I'm sorry."

"Tony! Tell me what's wrong!" Palmer panicked and pulled out his phone, calling Ducky. "You didn't do anything." He told Tony while the phone rang. "This is not your fault."

The bloodstain, the hand, still dripping blood, the smell, the screaming father, the boy's white face—the pieces clicked together and something snapped inside his head and Tony DiNozzo checked out.

Looking down at his phone, Palmer didn't realize Tony had collapsed until he fell against him, both of them hitting the floor hard. Palmer lost his phone and managed to end up mostly underneath Tony, breaking his fall somewhat. After a moment Palmer sat up, started praying loudly and reached for his phone. Ducky was shouting hello already.

"Dr. Mallard!" Palmer wailed into the phone. "You've got to—! I—help…Please!"

"Mr. Palmer! Calm down and breathe." Ducky grumbled. "What is the problem?"

Palmer sucked in a shaky breath and let it out slowly. Tony hadn't moved and he wondered what had happened to the police officer. "It's Tony, sir."

"Is he alright?" Ducky asked abruptly. "What is Anthony's condition? Answer me Mr. Palmer!"

"I… I don't know." Palmer's voice was high and he was just on this side of panic. "He muttered something and fainted. I don't … Dr. Mallard how soon are you going to be here?"

"Timothy should arrive shortly. Now tell me, what is Anthony's condition?"

"He uh, he's unconscious. On the floor. We're both on the floor." Palmer shuddered and tried not to think about the bloodstain so very close.

"Is he breathing normally? What's his pulse? Have you taken his blood pressure? Checked his eyes? Is he sweating? Is his skin cold and clammy?" Ducky asked impatiently. "Was he injured? Why are you both on the floor? Are you injured Mr. Palmer?"

"Uh, no sir. I don't know. I tried… I…." Palmer moved Tony's head carefully to the carpet and crawled toward his cases. "I'm not injured and Tony didn't appear injured when I came into the room. His breathing is shallow, but not labored." He sat beside his case and looked up gratefully when McGee walked through the door. "Dr. Mallard, sir, Tim's here. I'll call you back."

"Good. I—" Ducky said to a dead phone.

"Tony!" McGee took in the room at a glance and rushed over to where Palmer was leaning over Tony, trying to take his pulse. "What happened, Palmer?" McGee knelt down and ran his hands over Tony's body, looking for injuries.

"He just … collapsed!" Palmer said distractedly and had to start counting over. "He said something about it being his fault and he just collapsed."

Finding no obvious injury, McGee pulled his phone out and called Gibbs. Taking a deep breath at the terse voice that answered. "What!" McGee stuttered out "B—b—b—boss?"

"Ya think McGee?" Gibbs barked impatiently. "What is it McGee? I'm kind of busy here."

"Boss, it's Tony." McGee took another deep breath and looked at Tony's pale face. "He's apparently collapsed for no reason at the scene. Palmer—"

"DiNozzo wouldn't collapse for no reason, McGee. What does Ducky say?" McGee heard him talking to someone in the background.

"Ducky isn't here yet. Palmer—"

"Where the hell is Ducky?" Gibbs growled. "Is the scene secured?" He could hear shouts in the background. "Never mind. Secure the scene. Call Ziva, I've got—" McGee heard shots and Gibbs cursing as the call ended.

"Okay Boss." McGee put phone away and watched Palmer writing down notes in a little notebook. "Should we call 911? How soon is Ducky getting here?" McGee stood when Palmer shrugged and looked at him with frightened eyes. "I don't know."

"Dammit Palmer." McGee stood looking around helplessly for a moment and then went about doing what Gibbs told him to do—secure the scene. The first thing he did was pickup Tony's notepad and pen. Nothing on the open page seemed outside of normal. With a curse, he shoved it into his jacket pocket. Tony's white Montblanc pen he put in an inside pocket where he wouldn't lose it.

"He's not… he just looks like he fainted." Palmer racked his brain for what to do. Realizing he was wearing only one glove, he found the mate and pulled it on.

"Tony doesn't collapse without a good reason." McGee said reasonably, repeating Gibbs and went to talk to the officer outside. Maybe he had some idea of what happened.

Tony groaned and raised a hand to his head. "Tony!" Palmer cried rushing to his side. "Tim! Tony's waking up!" Helping Tony to sit up, Palmer had started babbling when Ducky strode into the room and knelt on one knee beside Tony.

"Anthony, my boy, can you tell us what happened?" Ducky asked gently lifting Tony's left hand and taking his pulse while his eyes examined Tony's body. "Are you injured?"

Tony's eyes darted around the room widening when they saw the body of the lieutenant. Tilting his head sideways, Tony's eyes filled with tears. "I'm sorry." He whispered. "I didn't mean to." He lifted one hand out to her but after a moment let if fall back to the floor.

Glancing around to see what Tony was looking at, Ducky frowned and pulled out a small pen light out of his pocket to examine Tony's eyes. "Mr. Palmer, please continue your examination of the lieutenant while I take care of Anthony." Palmer debated telling Ducky that he hadn't started the examination and shaking his head slightly got to his feet.

Ducky shone the light in Tony's eyes and was happy to find they reacted normally. "Now tell me, my boy, what is it you're sorry for?" When Tony didn't respond, Ducky turned his face away from the lieutenant's body to look at him. Tony's eyes were dazed, unfocused and Ducky clucked. "Anthony?"

"It's my fault." Tony's mumbled in a colorless voice staring at Ducky without seeing him. "I killed her."

Ducky gasped and looked back at the couch. "Mr. Palmer? What was the situation when you arrived?"

Palmer laid the lieutenant's head back down and turned to look at Ducky, both gloves bloody. "The officer had just removed a child, a young boy, from the room and was handcuffing a man, apparently the father, who kept screaming at the boy that it this was all his fault. That he'd killed his mother." Palmer looked at Ducky a moment then turned back to the body. "The gunshot appears consistent with suicide at first glance, Dr. Mallard."

"Anthony, what was your fault? Who did you kill?" Ducky snapped his fingers in Tony's face without getting his attention. With a frustrated sigh, he shook Tony's arm.

"I did it." Tony gestured vaguely and shivered. "I killed her."

"No, Anthony, she killed herself." Ducky said patiently. "Can you stand?" Tony looked down as if surprised to find himself on the floor and they both slowly got to their feet, Ducky keeping Tony turned away from the couch. "Mr. Palmer says it's a suicide. She was dead when you arrived."

In slow motion Tony raised dull eyes to meet Ducky's eyes. "It's my fault." He whispered. "It's my fault."

"No Anthony it wasn't. She killed herself. It's not your fault." Ducky repeated trying to move Tony out of the room without being obvious.

"It's my fault." Tony shook his head stubbornly, eyes darting to the body on the couch, partially obstructed by Palmer. He couldn't leave while she was still there.

"Anthony, come over here and sit down. Let's give Mr. Palmer some room to work."

He pushed Tony hard to get him to move, but eventually he was able to get Tony over to a chair facing away from the couch and got him seated

"It's not your fault Anthony." Ducky exchanged glances with Palmer. "You didn't do anything wrong."

"My fault. Her blood is on my hands." Lifting his hands to look at them, Tony's eyes widened impossibly at the sight of clean hands. Then he started laughing, hysterically. "Her blood is on my hands. Her blood is on my hands. See Ducky, her blood is on my hands." He held his hands out to Ducky who took them closing them between his own. "Your hands are clean Anthony. There's no blood on them."

Tony shook his head pulling his hands away and started rubbing his palms roughly up and down his thighs.

"Anthony, stop it!" Ducky tried to get through to Tony while McGee stood watching open-mouthed from the doorway. After a few moments Tony stopped and held his palms up bending over to study them carefully.

"Doesn't come off, I've tried. Believe me I've tried."

"What happened here Timothy?" Ducky rose up to look at McGee in the doorway.

"She's dead because of me." Tony said in a dull voice and nodded his head backwards toward the couch.

"No Anthony, you're wrong." Ducky rubbed his hand up and down Tony's arm. "You're in shock."

"It's my fault she killed herself." Tony said brokenly letting his hands fall to his lap, not quite meeting Ducky's eyes and ignoring McGee altogether. "I—"

"No, Anthony no." Ducky sighed in exasperation and said forcefully. "This is not your fault."

"Yes, it is." Tony nodded with unfocused eyes. "Senior said so." Tony spoke earnestly, trying to make them see.

.~.