Disclaimer: The characters from NCIS belong to Bellisarius Products, CBS and Paramount. This story is for entertainment purposes only, no money is being made.
A/N: This is my reaction to the end of Escaped. I'm very happy that Gibbs is back at NCIS, I love Gibbs. I'm not happy with the way he returned, and I felt badly for Tony. I'm going to post this quickly, I'd like it to be up before the next episode. Hopefully the writers will address this issue in a way that won't be detrimental to Tony or Gibbs.
Thanks to kate98, who stepped in for an ailing Rinne and doing a wonderful, last-minute beta job.
PrologueIt was a joint operation; the DEA had gotten a tip that some sailors were running a meth lab, mixing the drug and smuggling it onto ships to sell. They suspected that the lab was just a small piece of a much larger drug ring. The DEA had plenty of agents who were good undercover operatives, but the agent assigned to the case had been killed and they needed someone who could blend in with the naval personnel, who could speak their language. Special Agent Anthony DiNozzo had gamely submitted to a buzz haircut and 'transferred in' from Camp Pendleton.
Petty Officer Daniel Burton and Seaman Jeremy Stacey had been cautious at first, but DiNozzo had charmed them in the way that only he could, gaining their trust. The result was DEA and NCIS agents heading for an isolated warehouse where members of the higher echelon of the drug cartel were meeting the local producers.
The convoy was about a mile away when everything went to hell in a handbasket. A loud explosion blew the windows out of the warehouse, balls of flame shooting out and up. Drivers floored their gas pedals and the vehicles rushed to the site, brakes squealing as they pulled up. Ziva and McGee jumped out of a car and stared in shock at the sight of the burning building, debris floating down.
Six Weeks Earlier"You can't do this," Gibbs said firmly.
"What do you mean, I can't do this?" Tony challenged. "You think I can't handle it? I've gone undercover before," he said, his voice low and hard. "I've infiltrated the Mob, I can sure handle some drugged up sailors."
"Under normal circumstances I know you can handle it," Gibbs replied, "but you've been reckless lately."
"Reckless?" Tony said, incredulously, "How?"
"You want examples, DiNozzo?" Gibbs moved forward, his face inches from the younger man's. "You nearly got your head blown off when we went to question Nicholson about his wife's disappearance; you almost drowned going after Wilson; and you almost fell off a building during the Freemont bust."
Tony's eyes narrowed. "I saved Julia Nicholson from her whacked-out father, I got Wilson, and I stopped McGee from going off the roof," he said through gritted teeth.
"Yes," Gibbs agreed, "but you almost died each time. Do you have a death wish, or something? Because if you do, you're dangerous to everyone on the team, not just yourself."
"I would never endanger the rest of the team," Tony hissed.
"Not intentionally," Gibbs said, not backing off, "but you put yourself at risk. Someone's going to try to help you, and that could get them killed. What's with you, DiNozzo? ."
Tony stepped back, then lowered his head, breathing heavily through his nose, trying to compose himself.
Gibbs waited, knowing that something was bothering his senior field agent. He was pretty sure he knew what it was, but needed Tony to voice it. The resentment and anger had been simmering in the younger man ever since Gibbs had returned. They had never talked about it – Gibbs wasn't one to air his feelings and he never encouraged his agents to come to him to vent. It was a long-standing habit, one that he knew he should change, but never had. Now, keeping things unspoken had turned his formerly gregarious, outgoing subordinate into a sullen, walking time-bomb. Gibbs was at a loss as to what to do. Ducky had told him to sit the younger man down and talk to him, but Gibbs was unable to bring himself to do it. Truthfully, he felt guilty about coming back the way he did, but he would never apologize.
"Saying you're sorry is not a sign of weakness, Jethro," Ducky had chided. "That's one of your worst rules. You tossed your position to Anthony and walked out without a backward glance. He worked hard while you were gone and he did a good job, but you came back, dumped his belongings back onto his old desk, and acted as if it was temporary the whole time. You didn't acknowledge what he had accomplished at all. Did you expect him to sit back and become your loyal minion again?"
Finally, Tony spoke. "You have no say in this," he said softly. "The Director has given me this assignment, and the last time I looked, she was your boss." He stared steadily at his boss.
The two stood there for a moment, eyes locked, neither one blinking. Finally, Gibbs shook his head slightly. "Okay," he said, "but if you do something stupid, I'll kill you myself."
Tony huffed and walked off. Gibbs stared at the retreating figure, eyes narrowed. Someone cleared their throat behind him.
"What?" he said irritably, turning to face the person.
"He's either going to get himself killed or he's going to quit," Ducky said. "You have got to set this right, Jethro, or are you purposely driving him away?"
Gibbs ran his hand over his face. "I'm not driving him away," he said angrily.
"You could have fooled me," scoffed the older man. "The problem is that the two of you are more alike than you care to admit. You're both stubborn mules."
"He's being reckless, Ducky," growled Gibbs. "That goes way beyond stubborn."
"He's trying to prove himself," Ducky argued. "He's had his legs kicked out from under him and he's trying to gain a measure of respect. God knows you don't show him any."
"That's out of line, Doctor Mallard." Gibbs glared at the ME.
"But true," Ducky said calmly. "I don't pretend to know what you've gone through – what you're going through again. – with the loss of your family, but you've come back from Mexico a different person. You've always been a hard taskmaster, but you've always shown Tony and the others when you approve. Now, you're being just plain mean, and it's killing Tony. The boy practically worshipped you, he tried so hard to get your approval. You were his mentor and he soaked up everything you had to teach him like a sponge."
"I never asked to be worshipped, Duck." Gibbs waved his hand dismissively.
"No, you didn't," agreed Ducky, "but you demanded respect, and he gave you that and more." Ducky paused and sighed sadly. "Talk to him, Jethro," he said softly, "before it's too late."
