I don't own any of the characters at all...sad face

Enjoy the slightly angsty but pre-series team one shot.

You Can Only Do Your Best

Two figures were sat next to each other on the pavement outside of an apartment building, perfectly in opposition to the other people milling around with speed, these two were still, one shocked and one concerned. Nobody asked question of them, the story had already been told too many times for the shocked one to bear.

It all seemed a bit ridiculous if they were honest, they were used to mindless, senseless and hate filled violent death, and they knew how to handle that more than any other. But yet when it came to the purely accidental deaths or the heart- breakingly slow expected but not expected deaths; the ones that took your breath away in a second, the ones that hurt more because you weren't expecting it at all or not at that time because you thought you had more time, ones where you'd recently thought about missing the person because you hadn't seen them much recently and now that you just couldn't that it was so much different because you knew you really couldn't now.

But what was infinitely worse was that he had their blood all over his hands, infinitely worse because it made it feel like he had done it even though he had tried to save them, even though he had tried his best.

The adrenalin had kept him going in the immediate moments after until he realised there was no need to continue and because an EMT and told him to stop. At the time he wanted to scream at the guy for making stop but he was high on the electrifying liquid coursing through his veins and he didn't realise what had happened until time of death was called. And then he felt nothing, just empty and staring at the scene until he was pulled away by a friendly Scottish doctor.

The adrenalin high had gone now.

Dispersed into the hollow night he was staring at. The unwanted trembling started appearing in his bloodstained hands.

Muscle memory reminding him of the actions they had taken.

Words and sentences rushed his mind, some he understood, some he didn't.

Taking a deep breath, he wondered if he'd really done all he could. Maybe he could have pushed harder or called for help sooner. Done anything better.

But at the end of the day, when all was said and done, it had been futile.

"Come now, Anthony, you did all you could." The soft Scottish accent pulled him out of his thoughts for a moment but he returned his gaze to the darkness as the chilling wind breezed past the two men. Maybe that would hide the shaking of his hands.

Closing his eyes and taking a deep breath in order to collect himself, he found eyes staring back at him from behind his lids and snapped open his eyes so he didn't have to see the face again. He went to rub his tired eyes when ducky stopped him.

The confused look on the younger man's face almost undid Ducky. It was as if the young man had forgotten what he had just happened here.

"Oh, right." Tony mumbled numbly, not really taking much in but the air that he needed to breathe.

Distorted images played out like a horror movie in which he seemed to just be a bystander this time round.

The corridor towards his friend's apartment looked normal, though he couldn't shake the feeling that something was off for some reason. One of the lights was dark but that wasn't unusual as the supers in apartments were notoriously bad a keep the lights in the communal areas working.

He laughed; it was probably the most recent case they had closed that was getting to him after having not much sleep during it.

The only thing that was on the table tonight was beer and a game with a friend that he had made when he'd moved to DC about a year ago now.

He frowned when he received no answer from knocking on the door, which was odd. He tried again a little louder but the lock still didn't click open and the door still didn't move.

Being an ex-cop and now a federal agent didn't help as his mind ran amuck with different images and situations that he'd seen many times before. He tried he'd friend's cell phone but it just rang out through the silence of the corridor.

He tried to turn the door handle but it didn't budge, as if it was locked. Maybe the guy was asleep...but then the feeling in his gut stopped him from walking away and going back home. Shoulder barging the door, he briefly felt bad about the now busted lock but gained access to the apartment.

On first glance nothing seemed out of place since the last time he'd been over.

On second glace, however, the patch of red that stained the cream carpet and the slumped body sticking out from behind the coffee table were seriously out of place. Once Tony had comprehended what he was seeing he went over to the form of his friend, adrenalin started pumping through his veins, and he checked for a pulse on his friend's neck, ignoring that he'd knelt in blood.

He waited ten seconds and looked down towards his friend's chest to see if it rose or fell. When nothing beat underneath his fingers and the chest was still he realised that maybe he shouldn't have touched the body, I mean he investigated death for a living but he'd just reacted and damn it his friends skin was still warm so he called for help and started CPR in rhythms of thirty chest compressions to two breaths. It seemed wrong that the human ribcage could be that springy but he ignored that and continued in effort to regain a pulse.

He also ignored the statistics running through his mind telling him that the chance of survival outside of a hospital was lower than he liked to think about.

It seemed like forever until someone else arrived, but arrive they did and pulled him away from the repetitive action of CPR.

Anything after that seemed like a blur of images, people's faces and flashing lights.

Focusing back on the present he thought he'd seen Gibbs' face amongst everything else and wondered if he'd gone mad because he wasn't there now. And for the briefest moment he thought it was Gibbs' blood on him but that made no sense just like everything else so he shoved all the images in a box and stood to return home.

He needed to get away from this place, and he knew that they had gotten everything they needed from him. He didn't falter even once when Ducky tried to stop him. He didn't stop and starting walking back home because the confines of his car would be too oppressive and his own apartment was all that far away. That was until a commanding voice stopped him in his tracks.

"Where ya going, DiNozzo?" Though as well as commanding, Gibbs' voice was strangely calm Tony thought.

"Home." But it lacked any emotion whatsoever.

Gibbs briefly looked back at Ducky, letting him know that maybe he wasn't the right person to go after Tony with his eyes. But Ducky was having none of it, Gibbs and Tony had formed some kind bond within the year they had worked together, and Ducky was certain he was the right person to look after the younger man.

As the two man walked side by side, Gibbs was certain that his agent was still in a state of shock, no matter how hard Tony was trying not to be. It was different when you knew the person; it was ultimately harder to be objective about everything.

The night time breeze pushed fallen leaves past them and the moon had started sinking in the sky about an hour ago, the starting of the morning were peaking through the dark sky. It had taken a few hours to get Tony to where he was now, he'd been adamant at the start that the EMTs hadn't tried hard enough or done enough to help and had needed to be forced away from the apartment a few times to stop him going into the crime scene, not realising that he was wearing part of it as well.

One hundred or so yards later, on the sidewalk alongside a row of perfect white fenced houses, Tony stopped abruptly and stared at his hands as if he'd just realised the blood was there.

"What happened?" As he asked, Tony looked at Gibbs, anguish clear on his face.

With that look, Gibbs knew what question he was asking; he wasn't asking how or why the blood got there, nor was he asking what he was doing standing on a random street because he knew that already. He was asking the only thing he needed to know.

"It was an accident, no violence or murder, just tripped and hit his head on the table. Didn't feel a thing after that; there was nothing you could have done better."

Tony stared at Gibbs judging whether it was the truth or not, but then he knew Gibbs wouldn't lie to him either.

"Let's get you home, Tony" Gibbs stated, their cars would still be there in the morning and Gibbs would stay with him for as long as he needed.

"Yes, boss."

And the two men walked the rest of the way to Tony's apartment in a comfortable silence and Tony seemed less shocked than before the closer he got to home.

He wouldn't forget but his team, he knew, would take care of him.

The End.

I know cliché ending but it had to end some way right? And why not in a cute tony/gibbs kinda way

This little one shot came about partly after helping do CPR on an actual person while on placement in the hospital and in memory of two different people, An awesome university lecturer who lost his battle with cancer a month or two ago and in memory of a family friend who i've known since i was little who died last week.

There be lots more writing to come after i move house at the weekend and get the internet up!