DISCLAIMER: I DO NOT OWN NCIS OR ANY OF ITS CHARACTERS!
Ueniam Petens (Seeking Forgiveness)
It had been a long time, a very long time, since Anthony DiNozzo, Jr. even thought about his faith. Sure he celebrated the holidays, but he rarely considered the religious meanings behind them. Of course he knew what they were all about, but the mystery and the significance of them faded as he aged and became more cynical and jaded in his beliefs.
Today though he felt compelled to return to the place he once trusted to remove his guilt and would grant him the forgiveness he was searching for. The absolution and the penance were the panacea he sought.
He stood at the foot of the cement stairs as an autumn breeze blew flapping the long brown trench coat he'd donned to protect him against the early morning rains. The weight on his shoulders caused him to pause unsure of whether he would still find the serenity he used to find.
Tony's feet took him up the stairs and stopped before the heavy dark wooden door with its gold polished handles. Taking another breath and steeling his resolve he pulled the door open and stepped into the dimly lit vestibule. Candles flickered in the rear right of the church and by the tabernacle on the altar. A crucifix hung above it, a single light illuminating the ornate yet simple likeness of Christ on the cross.
Reflexively, from years of habit, even if they were long years past, Tony dipped his fingers in the holy water and made the sign of the cross entering into the quiet church. No one was seated in the pews and for a moment Tony wasn't sure anyone at all was present.
The silence was heavy but in a strange way comforting. He chose a pew and genuflected toward the altar before sliding into the seat. The hard bench reminded him of the masses he attended in his youth. He knelt on the kneeler in front of him dropping his head into his hands as he rested his elbows on the back of the pew in front of him.
He searched deep inside himself trying to find the words to pray. Too many head slaps for apologizing making it more difficult to find the place to begin.
It had been an easy assignment, maybe thinking that had been the root of the disaster that it had become. Kelsey Long was the daughter of an admiral targeted by a terrorist. All Tony had to do was keep an eye on her.
She was a beautiful dark haired brown eyed thirty-something woman. Tony had flirted with her before he was given the protection detail. He'd hoped when Gibbs got the terrorist he'd get a chance of taking her out. But on the job he kept things professional. Kelsey was content staying indoors and never made the situation uncomfortable.
Tony had ordered a pizza and had the detail outside clear the delivery man before he came to the door. Somehow he'd fooled them and as soon as the door opened he pushed the pizza box at the unsuspecting agent knocking him back and striking him over the head with his weapon, before Tony could react.
When he came to the other agents had entered and Gibbs was on his way. Kelsey had been gunned down as she was coming to see about the pizza. The gunman had escaped. The face of the man was etched into Tony's brain and with Abby on the computer they soon had his likeness along with his real name and aliases which they sent to every agency and law enforcement office around.
"Is there something I can do for you?" a concerned voice invaded Tony's thoughts.
Tony looked up at the young priest. He nodded but didn't speak.
The priest took a seat beside him and Tony pulled himself back to sit as well. "What brings you here?"
Still unsure of what to say or at least the words to express everything Tony looked down at his hands folded in his lap.
Exuding a great patience the priest waited. After a few minutes of silence he began, "How about we start with names? I'm Fr. Adams."
"Anthony DiNozzo, Jr. Tony," he said softly.
"Okay, Tony. It's clear something is troubling you. Is it something you'd like to talk about? Perhaps in the confessional?" He'd seen people struggling with guilt before and it was clear this man before him was greatly weighted down.
A small shake of his head was Tony's response. "I'm responsible for a death," he managed to utter, "But I'm not certain it's something I can confess."
Fr. Adams didn't flinch having heard the despair and remorse in his words. "In what way were you responsible?"
"I didn't protect her and I couldn't let him get away with it."
"Who didn't you protect?" the priest decided to break things down and get the full picture.
"My assignment was to keep her safe, but I opened the door and let the bastard kill her," he offered no apology for his language. The bitterness in his voice was palpable.
"Your assignment?"
"Yeah. I'm an NCIS special agent."
"I imagine in your line of work death is nothing new."
Tony suppressed a chuckle. "Most of the job is usually about death."
"You've killed before in the line of duty?" the priest asked curiously.
"Sure, but this," frustrated Tony couldn't finish, just said, "It's different."
"Why? Where you the only agent watching her?" he asked.
"No, but I've been doing this job long enough. I should've known. I never should've ordered a delivery," he hung his head.
"That may have been an error in judgment, but it hardly seems tantamount to being responsible for a murder at someone else's hand."
"You don't get it Father. It wasn't just Kelsey's death." Tony put his head back against the pew and rubbed his eyes with his fists.
"What else is there then?" the priest encouraged.
"The terrorist."
"The one you couldn't let get away with killing her?"
Tony nodded vigorously. "We found him. Surrounded him. Ordered him to give himself up. I shouldn't have been there; I'd lost my perspective."
"Did he give himself up?"
Tony shook his head. "He showed himself, smiled at us. When he cleared the doorway he reached behind his back and I shot him once in the chest. He didn't get up."
"What was he reaching for?"
"I never saw it. My boss pulled me side, took my weapon and told me to get my head together." Tony anguished over what he'd done. "I sat and replayed it in my head over and over. Did I react to a potential threat or was it just vengeance. I might never know the truth. All I know is I'm glad he's dead."
The priest watched as Tony tried to come to grips with his actions. He could tell Tony wanted to believe it was justified, but wasn't completely convinced. He asked, "If you truly feel that way why are you here?"
Tony looked up at the high ceiling peering into the darkness there searching for the answer. "I'm not sure. It's been a long time, but I remember feeling close to God at church," he shrugged.
"You are as close to God here as anywhere, but I understand your meaning. I'd like to say two words to you Anthony." He waited for the agent to make eye contact. "Memento Mori."
Tony shook his head. "You lost me Father. I never studied Latin."
"I'm using it as a loose translation that fits your situation: A reminder of human frailties and errors. You made a mistake. One that someone else paid a dear price for. You sought a way to atone by seeking the killer. Without witnessing what transpired at the scene where the killer was confronted I can't answer what caused your reaction. Trust in those who were there for the answers."
"It won't change what I'm not sure of myself," Tony lowered his head.
"Let me ask you this then. If you had confronted the culprit unarmed and willingly giving himself up would you have shot him?" the priest asked requiring Tony to search again inside himself.
"No," he shook his head, "I wouldn't have."
"Then I think your answer is there. You reacted to the situation you were faced with, not what had transpired before."
Tony nodded feeling a weight lifting off his conscience, "Yeah I guess. Thanks Father. I appreciate you taking the time to talk with me."
"Anytime. Feel free to come back even when you're not so in need," he smiled.
Tony got up to leave thinking of the priest's earlier words. He stopped and turned and asked, "You said that was a loose translation. What is the not so loose one?"
The priest shook his head and sighed, "Remember that you must die."
Tony snorted a laugh, "True enough." He gave the priest a wave and left the church. He might not be making regular visits, but it was good to know that he would be welcomed at any time.