Treading Water

A/N: I was sharing an idea with Chelsea and decided to see it through. Sheila

There were days that he could only stare at her desk and then there were days that he stared at anything but. Whichever day it was, staring off into his regrets seemed to be the only activity he did well. Gibbs' glares no longer reached him nor did McGee's concerned looks or his efforts to compensate. Ducky called it depression and insisted he see someone. They called in Cranston. He sat in her office once a week and responded in monosyllables.

Gibbs sent him out into the field less and less these days. It was a bad sign- a prelude to a medical leave. Medical leaves were lethal to a man's career, but DiNozzo didn't care. He still came in every day and worked, but it was mechanical now. Nothing happened unless someone told him to do it. No flashes of brilliance. His instincts were flat. The truth was that McGee carried three jobs on his back these days, and it would've been impressive if it wasn't just a sign of his own coping strategies.

The glare on the window burned his eyes and he blinked. The bullpen was empty. He closed his eyes and struggled to remember where they were with their latest case. It wasn't a murder- that's what distinguished it. It was a huge embezzling thing that had McGee poring over financial records for days like a book-keeper with Gibbs hovering and making a nuisance of himself. Tens of millions were gone and there was a cast of characters as long as his arm. Whiteboards were set up and diagrams made of the connections among a network of clever but greedy Petty Officers. Tony came in as early as they did and stayed as late, doing everything asked of him, but never attempted to grasp the complexity of it. It was a case- just a case. When it was over, there would be another case and another, and she would still be gone.

He heard sniffling and his head jerked in the direction of Ziva's desk. A kid was sitting at it. Tall, lanky with a head of dark curls, glasses, and a snaggletooth, the kid was pulling out a notebook and a pen as if he belonged there. It was McGee's kid- his project. Tony recognized him from the few times he'd stopped up.

"Hey Junior, what are you doing here?"

"Waiting for Tim."

"He know you're coming?"

The kid shrugged and stared down at his notebook.

"That's somebody's desk."

"But she's not here anymore. Tim told me she left."

Tony sat up. "It's still her desk. You should ask."

"Can I sit here?"

Tony shrugged.

The kid rolled his eyes and bent over his notebook. Tony watched him for a few moments. The boy seemed unsure of what he wanted to do with the notebook. He doodled for a bit and then tore off a page and threw it away. He did this a couple more times before putting down the pen. Then he stared at the blank paper until he grabbed his pen and started writing something furiously.

"Your name is Adam, right?"

The kid ignored him.

"Usually, you have your IPad with you."

Nothing.

"It could be awhile. We're in the middle of a case."

"I'm not going back to school," Adam mumbled.

"Your mom know you're here?"

"You writing a book?" Adam snapped, his eyes never leaving the paper.

Tony leaned forward. He didn't know the kid well, but his previous encounters were nothing like the sullen, angry kid in front of him. Adam's writing was purpose-filled now- his pen moving in sharp strokes.

DiNozzo got up and moved close enough to see the words, "Die! Die! Die!" littering the page. Adam felt his proximity and slammed the book shut. He looked up. "Can you just leave me alone?"

This was a plea and it startled DiNozzo. He backed up a step. "I'm going to go down and see how long Tim is going to be.

…

"Go to page 247 of your printout. Let's compare the withdrawals with the paperwork you submitted to the DOD." McGee's voice drifted over the intercom.

There was a shuffle of papers as McGee, a suspect, a DOD accountant, and two JAG lawyers turned to the appointed page. Tony moved in next to Gibbs. "Sort of like watching paint dry?"

"Not at all. McGee is overwhelming them with evidence. Look at the Petty Officer. He's been sweating bullets the last hour. McGee just keeps pushing the proof. Two more hours and the Petty Officer is going to beg for a deal."

"McGee's kid is here. Adam's his name, I think."

Gibbs turned sharply. "On his own?"

"Seems like it. Just showed up and wanted to see McGee."

Gibbs winced. "Bad timing. I can't pull McGee out."

"Got it. I'll tell the kid to get lost. Remind him to call before he comes next time."

"No!"

Tony froze.

"It took a lot to get him down here today after what happened."

Tony screwed up his face. "Huh?"

"The kids at school…you were there when McGee was telling us about it." Gibbs noted the confusion on Tony's face. "Forget it. I just remembered you've been circling a different orbit than the rest of us."

"He get into trouble?"

Gibbs turned back to the glass. "It's going to be a couple more hours. Be nice to him."

…

Tony stared at him from near the elevator for a while. The kid was still working on his nihilistic masterpiece with a singular focus. He remembered when he first met the kid. He'd literally drooled over Ziva, his eyes glued to her without a hint of self-consciousness. Tony knew the feeling. There'd been times when he'd stared at her too. Ziva David had no bad angles. There was always something new and soulful to discover every time he looked at her. He'd learned to be subtle about it- breaking it up with banter and pranks. It was only in the last year that he let her catch him without deflection.

More than anything, he wanted to send the kid packing. Slinking in cold and sullen in the middle of the school day was not to be tolerated, but the boss' face told him there was a bigger story. He squared his shoulders and moved in. "Grab your stuff, Adam."

The kid blinked.

"I'm hungry. Pizza. New York style and greasy. There's a place across the street." He didn't wait for a response. He just grabbed his coat and headed for the elevator. The kid tumbled into the elevator after him right as the doors were closing.

…

He knew the kid was getting enough to eat at home. McGee told him once that Mom was a Marine Lieutenant in Logistics and so there was enough money. Still, the boy ate like it was a contest. The extra-large pepperoni was disappearing fast between loud gulps of Coke. It reminded Tony of days in boarding school when they piled four and five sandwiches on their trays and then went back for desert. The metabolism of a 14 year-old boy was a thing to behold.

Tony nodded. "No IPad. You were really into that thing. Did you lose it?"

Adam stared at him, grease on his chin.

"It got stolen, right?"

"No." The tone was derisive.

Tony sat back. The tension eased by food was re-surfacing. He'd given up competing with the kid for the remaining slices, and so he focused on sipping his iced tea.

A few minutes later, Adam stopped eating. "My mom's going to be looking for me. Can I use your phone?"

"Don't have your own?"

He gave a curt nod. Tony handed over his cell, and the kid stabbed at it with greasy fingers. He mumbled things at someone, his voice raising slightly when getting home on time was discussed. Then he handed it back to Tony.

"I seem to remember that you had a nice phone last time I saw you."

Adam scowled. "Why do you keep bugging me about my things?"

Tony sighed. "Listen kid, I've been distracted lately. I'm sitting here and I feel like I should know what's going on here and I don't. Can you fill me in, please?"

Adam's eyes drifted up to the wall clock. "Think Tim will be out soon?"

Tony shrugged. "Hard to know with interrogation."

He slumped back in his seat. "I guess I'll try again another day."

Tony felt a wave of sadness that rivaled his own. "What happened, Adam?"

"I don't want to talk about it," he mumbled at the table. Then he grabbed his bag and got up.

"Wait!" Tony put up a hand. "We haven't eaten desert."

"Not hungry." The kid stood, poised for flight.

"Sit. Please."

Adam dropped back into his chair.

Tony pushed a half eaten piece around on his plate for a moment. "I'm sorry, kid. I should know what's going on. Tim told me. I just can't remember. I'm sorry."

The kid said nothing.

"I'm in a funk. Do you know what that is?"

Adam shook his bushy head.

"Ever tried to hear people talk under water? It's all muffled. That's a funk. My life is muffled right now. I can't seem to connect to the world around me right now."

"Why?" Adam studied him.

"She left."

He nodded. "The ninja warrior."

The edge of his mouth curved up. "Yeah."

"She probably has a mission." He spoke with the certainty only a kid could pull off.

Tony nodded. "She does."

"She'll be back."

"Ya' think?"

Adam considered an answer. "She stole your heart when she left, but she's a good ninja so she'll return it when it's time."

Tony closed his eyes. A sullen 14 year old understood him better than doctors and friends and family did.

"It'll stop hurting so much. I know. I missed my dad when he left really bad, but it got better."

Tony's throat got thick and he couldn't trust words so he nodded.

Adam leaned over and slurped more of his drink.

Tony opened his eyes. "What happened to you?"

Adam stared at him for a moment, chewing his bottom lip. "They pantsed me in the school bathroom on Monday and took pictures. Full monty. Posted them all over. Facebook. Tumblr. Twitter. Everywhere. The whole school saw them."

"Damn!"

Adam started to get up. "My life is over."

"Not by a long shot," Tony said grabbing his arm. "Sit down! Is the school doing something about this?"

Adam nodded. "Wish they weren't. Just makes it worse. They only found out because my friend's mother called the school. Then they called my mom. And my mom called Tim. It's a mess."

"You can't let them get away with this!"

"They're suspended. Everyone thinks it's my fault. Nobody believes I didn't tell."

"You IPad and your phone?"

Adam sighed. "My mom took them away because of the stuff kids were posting about me. The school psychologist told her to. Thinks it'll be too hard on me to read all that stuff."

"They're right."

Adam stared at the table, and Tony could relate to the helplessness radiating off him.

"Give it time. It'll get better. You still got friends, right?"

Adam nodded.

"Good! And you got Tim and Gibbs…and me. We got your six, Adam."

Adam attempted a thin smile.

"There you are!" McGee came up, breathless. "Figured you'd take him here."

"Interrogation done?"

"Yup. Got a confession. JAG is taking over now."

"I should get back." Tony rose. "I'm sure the boss needs me."

McGee shook his head. "He said we should head home. Seriously. JAG wants the whole thing."

"You guys got some talking you need to do." He put on his coat.

"Thanks for the pizza," Adam said as Tim slid into the booth across from him.

Tony nodded and headed for the door. Outside, the crisp fall air hit him hard and he gasped. A wind blew and rusty leaves skated across the street. He looked around at the trees bright with color and realized he was noticing them for the first time all fall.

She liked fall. They didn't have it in Israel. They walked through a park her first year in D.C., and she'd chased after leaves with wonder, collecting colors in her arms. He tried to tell her that the changing leaves were nothing unique, but she ignored him, transferring leaves to his arms while she scrambled up a tree after a yellow sample. She was disappointed when the bright colors rusted and turned to dust in the weeks that followed, but Abby had saved her original collection and showed her how to press them in a book. The memory of the two women huddled over that binder made him smile.

He turned back to the storefront and saw McGee through the glass leaning toward Adam, talking to him urgently. McGee could handle it. He'd walked in the same shoes as the boy. Still, Tony didn't move. Then he pulled on the door and walked in. Striding up to the two of them, he pulled off his coat and slung it over the back of the booth. "Listen up. You're going to need more than just advice from the geek perspective. Move over, McGee. We work as a team around here. Adam, you're the new probie, and we got some rules to share with you. Pull out that notebook and grab your pen.

…..

The End