Disclaimer: I don't own the show NCIS or any of the characters, they belong to CBS, Don Bellasario and Shane Brennan. I write this work of fiction for entertainment purposes only and make no money. My only reward is the feedback and reviews of those who read and enjoy my work. I hope the creators, writers, actors and other realize that we who write fanfic do it as a tribute to the wonderful work they do.

The song "Drink a Beer" was written by Chris Stapleton and Chris Beavers and performed by Luke Bryan. It inspired this story. I've been told I'm not allowed to include the words in my story, so you'll just have to find the song for yourself.

DRINK A BEER

BY LARABEELADY

Tony was sitting at his desk, finishing reports, when Tim arrived.

"Tony, how is Gibbs doing?" he asked. Gibbs had been injured earlier in the day in a scuffle with a perp they were trying to arrest. The suspect had thrown a rock while trying to flee and had hit Gibbs on the side of the head. Tony had just returned from the hospital, after Gibbs had told him to return to work and finish up, making sure the suspect's paperwork was all in order. They didn't want the guy to go free on a paper snafu.

"He's doing okay, Tim. Doctor's said he'll be all right, barring any complications. They're keeping him overnight, just to be safe, due to his concussion."

"That's good. I'm glad. I know head wounds bleed a lot, but it's still scary."

"Yeah. I imagine the nurses will be glad once he's released. He's a bear when he has to be admitted to the hospital. Especially when they won't let him drink his coffee."

"Good news, then. I'm just going to run this evidence down to Abby. I'll be back in a few minutes to finish up my report." Tony just nodded, then returned to his own paperwork.

The phone rang on Tony's desk, and he answered it absently. "Agent DiNozzo, NCIS." Tony paled, then without saying another word, hung up the phone. He just stared at the phone, then got up and walked toward the elevators. He didn't hear Agent Balboa speaking to him.

When Tim returned from the lab, he noticed that Tony was no longer at his desk. He looked around, wondering where his partner had gone. Looking at the computer screen, he noticed that Tony's half-finished report was still up on his computer, so he figured Tony would be back in just a minute.

"Hey, Tim," Agent Balboa came around the corner, "Is everything alright with Tony?"

"As far as I know. Why do you ask?"

"Because he took a phone call about 10 minutes ago. Didn't say anything, just went white in the face and hung up. Then he got up and got in the elevator and left. He didn't even acknowledge me when I asked him what was wrong."

Tim didn't like the sound of that. If Tony had left the office, he'd have saved his report and turned off his computer. Tim looked in the drawer and saw Tony's gun. Tony never left without his gun. He picked up the phone to call Tony's cell. "Do you know who was calling him?" Tim asked the other agent.

"No. Like I said, he answered the phone, turned pale and hung up without saying anything else."

Tony wasn't answering his cell. Tim didn't like this. His first thought hearing about the phone call was that something had happened to Gibbs. Tim placed a call to the hospital. While waiting for the call to go through, he started tracking Tony's cell phone.

/

Tony was numb. The phone call had been so unexpected. He'd just left the hospital not even two hours ago. He was told his friend would be fine. Now, he was dead. Just gone. How could it happen? Why?

Tony walked aimlessly, not paying much attention to where he was going. His thoughts were jumbled. The other man's death was going to leave a huge void in his life. He'd never hear his voice again. Tony wouldn't be able to go to him for advice, wouldn't have him there to help him when things got tough. And he'd never need Tony's help again. Tony felt helpless. He'd been helpless. Here he was, a federal agent, trained to protect and defend. But how do you defend against an enemy you can't see coming. That you had no inkling was there?

He could feel the cell phone in his pocket vibrating. He didn't answer. He couldn't. He just couldn't talk to anyone right now. He knew if he opened his mouth, he'd lose it. He just wanted to scream. A man he'd looked up to, respected, tried to emulate, was just…gone. No do-overs, no chance to say goodbye.

After a couple of hours, Tony finally stopped long enough to take stock of his surroundings. Once he realized where he was, he smiled sadly. He must have headed here unconsciously. Tony took a right turn and headed towards the liquor store on the corner.

Tony walked out of the liquor store minutes later with a six-pack of beer, and continued his walk. Soon, he entered the park, walking along the paths until he got to the pier. At the end of the pier, Tony sat down with his legs dangling over the edge. He opened one of the beers and just stared out over the water. He blinked, trying to stop the tears that were welling in his eyes.

It just wasn't fair. A good man died today. A man Tony loved like family. And there wasn't a damn thing Tony could do about it, except carry on. Raising his beer in a silent toast, he whispered "Here's to you, my friend. I'm gonna miss you." He had just taken a drink and set the can down, when he heard footsteps come up behind him.

"Tony."

He sighed. "Hey, boss. What are you doing out of the hospital?"

"Signed myself out AMA," Gibbs said.

"Thought you agreed to stay overnight for observation?"

"That was the plan, but when McGee called the hospital, frantically trying to find out if something had happened to me, then said you'd gotten a call from that same hospital, and walked out, without your gun, mind you, what else was I gonna do?"

FLASHBACK

"Hi, this is Agent McGee of NCIS. I'm trying to locate a patient, Leroy Jethro Gibbs. He was brought in earlier today with a concussion…Yes, I'll hold, thanks." Tim finally located Tony's cell, moving slowly. Tony must be on foot. His attention was diverted when he heard the familiar voice of his boss, and Tim let out a relieved breath. Whatever had happened, it wasn't Gibbs. He explained to Gibbs why he was calling to check on him and what was happening with Tony. Gibbs sounded worried, but got really upset when Tim mentioned that Tony had left his gun behind in his desk.

"Tim, come get me, now. And keep tracking Tony's phone. And try to find out who that call was from."

"Um, boss, aren't they keeping you for observation tonight?"

"I'm not staying here while something is going on with Tony. Now, somebody come get me. I'll be downstairs waiting." Gibbs then hung up.

"Oh, boy," Tim muttered to himself. "This is gonna be fun…not."

END FLASHBACK

Tony ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry, Boss. Wasn't thinking, I guess."

"Yeah, I figured that out. Wanna tell me what's going on? From the looks of things, I may not have died, but someone did." Gibbs moved up next to Tony, sat down and opened one of the beers.

"Should you be doing that, Boss? I'm pretty sure alcohol isn't recommended with whatever meds the hospital gave you."

"I'm fine. They didn't give me any painkillers, just grunt candy. So, you want to talk about it?"

Tony continued to stare out over the water. He was silent for several minutes. "One of my frat buddies, Steve Graham, was in a car accident day before yesterday. He was at the same hospital you were at. As a matter of fact, I went to see him today after they got you settled."

"Was he hurt bad?" Gibbs inquired.

"No, not really. The airbag in his car deployed, broke his nose. And he had a concussion and some bruised ribs, but nothing else. His prognosis was good, barring complications." Tony made quotes in the air. "That's the phrase. The same phrase they tagged onto the end of your prognosis."

"And apparently, he had a complication?"

"Doctors think it was an embolism. It hit suddenly not long after I returned to the office. No warning. The call I got was from another buddy, Max, who was visiting at the time. He said one second, Steve was laughing, the next, he just stopped breathing. And they couldn't revive him. Max said Steve's wife just collapsed with grief. God, they just had their first kid a few months ago."

"Damn, I'm sorry, DiNozzo."

"I just don't understand it, Boss. I mean, I'm in a dangerous profession. I've been shot at and shot up many times. I got the plague, for fuck's sake. Steve was just driving to work. He's got a wife and a new baby boy. I've got no one depending on me. Why him?"

"I can't answer that question, Tony. I don't understand that any more than I understand why I survived being in a war zone halfway around the world, while my girls died here, where they should have been safe." Gibbs took another drink to try and ease the dryness of his throat. "But just because you don't have a wife or child, doesn't mean you are any less important than Steve. You've helped a lot of people during all your years in law enforcement. You've saved me how many times? So I don't want to hear you say that again, okay."

Tony just nodded, but Gibbs didn't think he really agreed it. They spent several more minutes in silence, just watching the scenery.

"You know, Steve and I used to come here a lot. We'd just sit on this pier and drink and talk. This is where I told him that I'd accepted a position with NCIS and was moving to D.C. Damn, he was so excited that I was moving to town. This is where I told him about losing Kate. This is where he told me he'd proposed to Sherry and asked me to be his best man. This is where he told me they were expecting." Tony sighed. "Now Sherry is a widow, their son will grow up without a father. And I've lost a good friend, someone who was as close as a brother to me."

Gibbs gently squeezed Tony's shoulder. "I'm sorry, Tony. It's not easy, I know. But if I know you, you'll keep an eye on Sherry and the baby. You'll watch Steve's son grow up, probably tell him about all the things you guys did in college, once the kid's old enough. It's not fair, but he'll get to know Steve through you. He'll understand what a special man his dad was."

"Yeah, I will. But I'm still gonna miss him."

"I know you will, Tony. Sorry I never got to meet him."

"How did you get here, Boss?"

"McGee. He's still at the car, waiting. Told him to give me a little time with you first."

Tony pulled out his cell phone and dialed Tim's number. "Tim, come join us." He hung up and grabbed his beer. A few minutes later, Tim arrived on the pier. Tony silently handed him a beer. "Pull up a plank and sit a spell, Probie."

"You okay, Tony?" Tim asked.

"Lost a good friend today, Tim. Sorry I worried you, though. Didn't mean to. Just wasn't thinking clearly."

Tim nodded. "I'm sorry about your friend."

"Thanks, Tim."

"McGee, did you bring it?" Gibbs asked the younger man.

"Yeah, Boss." Tim pulled Tony's gun from a pocket and handed it to Gibbs.

Gibbs, in turn, handed it to Tony. "What have I told you about going around unarmed?"

"We're too good at our jobs to go around without a weapon. Too many enemies."

"Damn straight. Don't ever let me find out you left your gun behind again, you got me, DiNozzo."

"Got it, Boss."

"That goes for you, too, McGee."

"Okay, Boss. Um, which rule is this?"

Both Tony and Gibbs just stared at him. "The fact that you have to ask that, McGee, tells me you need a refresher course," Gibbs said. "Sheesh."

"Um, sorry, Boss. I'll try to do better."

"There better not be any 'try' about it, McGee. But, there's time enough for that later. In the meantime, I propose a toast." He waited until McGee had opened his beer, then raised his can. "To Steve Graham, good friend, good man. He'll be missed." The other two men raised theirs in a farewell toast. Then silently, they watched the sun set over the water.