Disclaimer: I do not own NCIS or any of its related characters or ideas. NCIS and all of its recognizable nouns belong to CBS and Bellisario Productions.
Special thanks to my wonderful beta, Gotgoats. You are so much fun to write with—your reactions totally keep me inspired!
Author's Note: I think I broke the angst-o-meter in this one lol…at least that's what Goats told me… This is a one-shot, but it's also a long-shot. It's way bigger than I meant for it to be lol and honestly? Went in the opposite direction I thought we were going…At any rate…Enjoy!
Spoiler: Episode 11.4 Once A Crook, and pretty much everything since the dawn of time leading up to that…
Solid Ground
By Headbanger_Rockstar
Gibbs put the file in his desk and picked up his keys. The sun had set over the skyline in DC and twilight had set in. The team leader stood up wearily and ran a hand over his face. It'd been a tough case. Tough for him because he'd spent the last two days worrying about Tony, tough for McGee because he'd spent the last two days running defense on Gibbs for Tony, and being hopelessly caught in the middle; tough for Tony because…God, could he list all of the reasons why the past two days had been tough on his younger partner?
Tony was sitting at his desk, thumbing through the papers in the file he was studying. His gaze was bleary and the dark circles under his eyes looked like they'd reach all the way to his chin if he went another night without any sleep. Gibbs' eyes narrowed slightly as he watched Tony's eyes drop shut for a second before he forced them open again. Gibbs stepped up to Tony's desk and stared at him for a moment. "Tony," he finally said softly. Tony blinked his eyes open and looked at Gibbs. Gibbs watched carefully as Tony's gaze took just a second too long to focus on him. It was time for Tony to go home. Four days was too long to go without sleep—especially in this line of work. Tony had to take care of himself better than he was doing or Gibbs was going to have to step in.
"Yeah Boss?" He bit back a yawn, swallowing it unsuccessfully.
The corner of Gibbs' mouth dragged up in a sympathetic smile. "Go home," he said quietly, but the order was clear in his voice. "Get some sleep."
Tony yawned again. "I want to make sure Anton gets processed smoothly, then it's off to bed. Scout's honor."
Gibbs eyed him for a long moment. Tony managed to hold his gaze steadily. Neither of them were going to discuss the way Tony fell apart in the bathroom earlier. They both knew there was more to it. They both knew that Tony was exhausted and that made it worse. Gibbs nodded, the unspoken "You'd better," ringing loud and clear in the deserted bullpen.
Tony thumbed through his paperwork and watched out of the corner of his eye as Gibbs headed to the elevator without another word. Once the elevator doors slid shut, Tony tossed the papers down listlessly. How had things gotten so screwed up? He leaned back in his chair and slowly lifted his feet to his desk. His knee was aching and his back was hurting. He knew the backache was probably stress related. He shifted down in his chair a bit and felt his body slide into that perfect spot in his chair—that spot that was just as comfortable as his bed at home. His bed…he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep. He had too many thoughts swirling around in his head. He'd just rest here for a bit. Enough to get his mind cleared. Enough to recharge his batteries and stave Gibbs' concern so that he could get himself together. He just needed to rest for a minute…just a minute…
Three hours later the elevator doors dinged as they opened. A figure dressed in black approached Tony's desk and stopped, watching the young man sleep. His head was rolled to one side, lips slightly parted. His feet were crossed on the edge of his desk and his back would have a kink in it tomorrow if he remained in that position for much longer. Gibbs sighed and shook his head. He stepped around Tony's desk. "DiNozzo," he called softly. Tony snorted once but didn't wake. Gibbs slapped the bottom of Tony's shoe as he approached him. "DiNozzo," he said a little louder.
"Hmmm?" Tony sounded slightly pained, and his brow furrowed in his sleep.
Gibbs reached down and gently extricated Tony's sidearm from its holster. He frowned darkly when Tony didn't wake. Seriously? This was unacceptable. He leaned down, his lips almost touching Tony's ear. "Bang!" he snapped, not quite yelling in the young man's ear, but speaking loud enough to get his attention. He took a step back when Tony sprang into action, his hand automatically reaching for his holster—his…empty…holster…
Tony's eyes popped open wide and he gasped when he saw Gibbs standing over him. "Boss! Jesus! Gibbs! Where's my…um…" Recover dammit! Do not let Gibbs know you've lost your gun! Where the hell was his gun? Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit oh—
"DiNozzo," Gibbs' voice was soft. He held out Tony's sidearm.
Tony fought the urge to grimace in shame as he stared at the gun. He reached for it but Gibbs pulled it back, out of his reach at the last moment. Tony's eyes widened. "Gibbs?" he asked.
"I thought you were going to go home and go to bed," Gibbs said quietly.
"I wanted…I was waiting for…" Tony closed his eyes and rubbed a hand over his forehead. "I'm sorry…Gibbs…Can I have my gun back?"
"Nope," Gibbs shook his head. He tucked Tony's gun into his own pocket. "Not until you sleep."
Tony's eyes widened. "What if we get a case?" he asked.
"You're benched Tony. Until you sleep. You're…you're going to get hurt," he said. "You're going to get yourself killed."
Tony looked down. "Would that be so bad?" he whispered. He flinched, waiting for the headslap. When it didn't come, he finally looked up. Gibbs had an unreadable look on his face. He didn't look angry; he looked…like he'd been headslapped. "Gibbs?" Tony whispered, his voice small.
Gibbs looked at him, his expression more serious than Tony had ever seen. "With me Tony," he said, his voice rumbling like a storm on the horizon. "No arguments." He turned to head to the elevator and stopped by the window, waiting for Tony to catch up. Tony lurched up from his desk, and caught himself with a hand on the corner of his desk, one hand rubbing over his forehead. Gibbs glanced back at Tony and sighed. He stepped back to his friend and wrapped a hand around his bicep. "When's the last time you ate?" he asked.
"No idea," Tony mumbled.
Gibbs jerked them both to a stop and put both of his hands on Tony's shoulders. He gave the young man a firm shake. "We will be discussing this. But you're going to eat and sleep first. I don't like you not taking care of yourself."
"I'm not hurting you or anyone else," Tony said quietly, trying to shrug off the gentle grip and failing. "What's your deal?"
"What's my deal? What's. My. Deal?" Gibbs was suddenly in Tony's space—every breath the younger man took was invaded by Gibbs' presence.
Tony flinched then. "I didn't mean that," he breathed. "I'm sorry Gibbs. I…I didn't mean that. I…I'm sorry."
Gibbs closed his eyes and shook his head. "I'm taking you home. Come on." The hand wrapped around Tony's arm again and together the two men headed for the elevator.
xxx
Gibbs pulled the car into the lot and parked. He glanced over at the younger man in the passenger seat and let out a long breath. He had to get Tony back on solid ground. He had to help the younger man get himself together. He wasn't…he wasn't the same. Since Ziva left. Everything was different—just like Tony said. But what Gibbs thought Tony was forgetting is that just because things are different, that didn't mean that it had to be bad. He reached a hand out and rested it lightly on Tony's shoulder. The young man had dozed off in the car, almost before they'd left the gates of the Navy Yard.
"Tony," he called softly. "Let's go inside. C'mon."
Tony stirred a bit and Gibbs shut off the car. He got out and walked around to Tony's door and pulled it open. Tony slowly spilled out of the car and Gibbs hooked a hand under his elbow, helping him remain upright. The cool night air seemed to bring Tony around a bit and he seemed slightly more coherent as they headed for the door. Suddenly Tony stopped and looked around. "Where's my car?" he asked.
"The Yard," Gibbs said succinctly. "And your sidearm is still in my pocket. And I have your keys."
Tony stopped and shrugged Gibbs' hand off of his arm. "You don't own me," he said raggedly.
"That's where you're wrong," Gibbs said, his voice taking on a dangerous tone. "I do own you. You're mine DiNozzo. You've been mine since the day you signed on the dotted line. And right now I'm going to take care of you since you aren't doing it for yourself. We're going to go inside, and you're going to rest. When you wake up we'll get you something to eat. Once you're back together then we'll see about getting you back out in the field."
Tony looked at Gibbs, and his eyes glazed. "Thanks Boss," he whispered. He didn't think he could list all the things he was thanking Gibbs for.
Gibbs sighed and nodded. "You're welcome DiNozzo." He understood.
xxx
Gibbs handed Tony his keys, since he wasn't sure which key on DiNozzo's ring was the house key. He'd regrettably only been to the younger man's apartment a few times in the past. He'd helped Tony move into this apartment, he'd spent several nights here with him when he was recovering from the plague…he'd dragged DiNozzo Senior's sorry ass out of this apartment last Christmas…and last spring when the sniper tried to take Tony out…he'd worked the scene in the apartment. Gibbs watched as Tony's hand shook slightly as he tried to get the key in the lock. After several tries, Tony leaned forward, thunking his head on the door. Gibbs put his hand over Tony's hand and held it steady as he slid the key in the lock.
"I'm not a child," Tony whispered desperately as the door opened.
Gibbs let Tony lead the way into his home. "I know you're not," he agreed.
Tony threw his keys down on the coffee table and dropped on the couch.
"Ohhhh no," Gibbs shook his head. "Bed. Not the couch. The bed."
Tony slowly pulled himself back to his feet and ran a hand over his face. "I need to feed my fish," he mumbled. "She's hungry."
"Your fish is a she?" Gibbs asked. "How'd you count the holes on that?"
Tony snickered tiredly. "You look at the colors," he said quietly. He picked up a small container of food and walked over to the sparsely filled bookshelf. "Hiya darlin'," Tony said, unscrewing the lid.
"What's your fish's name?" Gibbs asked, watching with a little bit of awe as his senior field agent doted on the fish.
There was a pause and Tony seemed to go completely still for a moment. Gibbs watched the lines in Tony's back tense before he drew himself up to his full height and turned around. Gibbs' eyes widened slightly. Tony's mask was flawless. "Kate," he said. "Her name is Kate."
Gibbs' eyes widened and he swallowed hard. Tony's shoulders drooped slightly and he turned back around. The older man moved to Tony's side and ducked a bit so he could look in the fishbowl at the pretty goldfish. "Hello Kate," he said, tapping the glass with the pad of one fingertip. Kate was happily eating her food and ignored him completely. Gibbs stole a glance at Tony.
The younger man looked years ahead of the 41 Gibbs knew Tony to be. His muscles were pulled drum tight and his lips were pressed into a thin line. His eyes were beginning to look suspiciously wet and Tony wiped a tired hand over them before pinching the bridge of his nose. "Think I need to go to bed," Tony mumbled. He turned around to head to the bedroom and wobbled slightly. Gibbs hurried over and steadied him. "Sorry Boss," Tony kept his eyes low.
Gibbs tapped him under the chin. "To answer your earlier question? Yes it would be that bad. It would be bad for me, and for a lot of other people if something happened to you. It would matter to me." He cupped Tony's face in one hand and pointed his finger at Tony's weary face. "You. are. irreplaceable."
Tony stared at Gibbs for a long moment and then nodded tightly. "I…I gotcha Boss," he whispered.
"And Tony?"
"Yeah?"
"I meant what I said earlier. I'd trust you any time."
Tony let a slow smile blossom across his face. "Thanks."
"I don't throw around praise and compliments lightly."
Tony nodded. "I know. Gonna go to sleep Gibbs."
"Get some rest. I'm staying here. I'll be here when you wake up and we'll talk more."
"Don't have to stay," Tony shook his head sadly. "I'm uh…I'm not gonna do anything dumb."
Gibbs put his hands on Tony's shoulders. "If I thought that you were, we'd be checking you into Bethesda. Now quit beating yourself up over things that are not your fault, and get your ass in the bed."
Tony nodded silently and went to his room, closing the door behind him. Gibbs looked around the small apartment with its super-tidiness, sparse furnishings, and stark white walls. There was a niche bookshelf built into one wall in the living room. On the shelf, near Kate the Fish, there was a framed photograph that caught Gibbs' eye. He moved across the room and looked at it closely.
The picture was not like the candid shots that Gibbs knew floated around between the members of his team. They were always snapping photos—especially with the NCIS cameras. Abby's screensaver slideshow was so expansive, Gibbs could easily attest to the fact that he'd never seen the same picture on it twice. But this picture of his younger agents was not one of those candid shots.
In this picture, Tony and Kate were standing on the shoreline at the ocean, arms wrapped around each other in an affectionate embrace, hair in windy disarray, both of them grinning madly. Gibbs took notice that they were equally wrapped around each other—the affection between them was not one-sided. On the pier behind them in the photo, a banner blew in the wind: SPRING BREAK 2005 WELCOME TO PANAMA CITY BEACH!
Gibbs recalled Tony talking about that trip—the one Tony said he was taking with his fraternity brothers. It looked as though DiNozzo's game of Smoke and Mirrors had worked—he'd gone to Spring Break alright, but he'd taken a sorority girl of his own with him instead. Kate wore a tasteful light blue bikini and Tony wore black swim trunks. Gibbs picked up the photo off of the shelf and inspected it closer. Realization dawned on him then. The reason why, after Kate's death, Tony had suddenly opted to take the extra week of sick leave everyone had been trying to talk him into. The reason why he'd never gone to Spring Break after 2005. The reason he always kept Ziva, Paula, Jenny, and Jeanne at arm's length—while letting each of them believe that they had their hooks in him.
It all made perfect sense why Tony never let anyone get close.
Ziva leaving so suddenly had impacted Tony, there was no doubt of that. The young man missed her because they'd worked together so long.
"No one says her name anymore," Tony had whispered in the bathroom earlier. "It's like she's dead."
They didn't talk about Ziva anymore. It was still too raw. But how many years had it been since one of them had uttered Kate's name? How badly had it shaken Tony when she died? How much pain had he been hiding all this time? Nearly a decade now since…Ziva leaving had obviously reminded Tony of Kate's death. The vacant desk across from his…how many times in the past few weeks had Gibbs caught Tony staring dumbly at Ziva's—Kate's—abandoned desk?
The senior agent carefully placed the framed photo back on the shelf.
His cell phone rang and he glanced at it, answering it quickly to silence the ringer. "Yeah, it's Gibbs," he spoke quietly. His eyes drifted back to the photograph of his two dear friends.
"Good evening Jethro. Am I interrupting you?"
"Nah Duck. What's up?"
"I wanted to speak with you...Jethro I'm concerned for Tony."
"Oh? Why's that?" Gibbs glanced at the bedroom door and willed the man to stay asleep.
"He isn't sleeping. I am telling you this in confidence, and only because I fear it may be effecting his mental faculties."
"Yeah? I noticed," Gibbs said mildly. "He and I talked a bit earlier."
"So did we," Ducky said. "I was hoping he'd doze off as he rested on my table…but he wouldn't…or perhaps he couldn't…he couldn't stay still long enough to drift off."
"I've got him Duck. I went back by the office and dragged him out. We're at his apartment and he's in bed now."
"Are you going to stay with him?"
"Thinking I should," Gibbs said grimly. "He wasn't…wasn't in a good place when he went off to bed."
"Why was he at the Yard so late? He should have gone home to bed! The case was closed earlier!"
"Think he wanted to make sure Anton was alright. Processed correctly and all that. There's a lot of guilt there he needs to work through."
"He needs to rest. I'm worried it's going to impact his job performance."
"It already has. I've benched him until he sleeps. I'm going to call the Director and have us taken off rotation for a couple of days."
"I think that is wise."
"Tony…Duck he doesn't ever ask for help. He's always so independent and private…I have to watch for the cracks. He's good though—they don't show often. He doesn't usually let on that anything's bothering him until he's reached crisis level and is in reaction-mode. Even then I have to force it out of him a lot of times. Part of that is my fault. I need to do better too."
Ducky and Gibbs talked a few moments more before ending the call. Gibbs called Vance and told him that his team needed off rotation.
"Why is that Gibbs?" Vance asked.
"It's been a long few weeks Leon. DiNozzo's recovering from his trip and still having some jetlag. McGee and I just got back from Afghanistan. We need some downtime too. And we're running an agent short. We aren't hurting because of it; our productivity hasn't changed, but I think we are all feeling the push a bit."
"Alright," Vance said. "I'm taking your team off rotation. Get some rest and I'll see you a week from Monday."
Gibbs blinked. "Thanks Leon," he said.
"You and your boys don't ask for time off. Ever. So when you tell me you need the break I'm inclined to believe you. Take care of them Gibbs."
"Oh I will," Gibbs glanced at the bedroom door again. "Make no mistake about that." He hung up the phone and walked over to the huge window overlooking the park square below.
A noise behind him drew his attention. Tony was standing in the doorway to the bedroom. His hair was beginning to stand up in tufts and he was scowling in the brightly lit living room.
"Tony?" Gibbs turned his full attention to his friend. "Ok Tony?"
Tony didn't move. He stood very still and his expression didn't change. Gibbs took a step closer. "With me Tony?"
Tony blinked weakly and looked around.
"Let's go back to bed Tony," Gibbs said. He put his hand on Tony's arm and started to guide him back to the bedroom, but Tony flinched out of his touch.
"Where is she?" Tony suddenly asked. "You said she'd be here! Said she's fine! Where is she?" He looked around. "Doctor where is she?!"
Gibbs sighed. "It's gonna be alright Tony. C'mon. Let's go rest a bit while we wait for her." Gibbs wondered who Tony was dreaming about. "C'mon I'll show you where you can rest while you wait."
This time Tony let Gibbs guide him carefully back to the bedroom. Gibbs pulled back the covers and helped Tony climb slowly into the twin-sized bed. Tony stared up at Gibbs, looking dreadfully lost. "Gonna be alright," Gibbs soothed. "Just go to sleep."
Tony settled back against the pillows and almost immediately dropped off to sleep. Gibbs smiled sadly down at Tony and ran a hand lightly over his hair. "Night Tony," he murmured.
"Night Kate," Tony whispered.
Gibbs swallowed the lump in his throat and left Tony sleeping in the bedroom. He kept the door cracked so that Tony's room would be bathed in a gentle sliver of light, rather than the all encompassing, smothering darkness. He walked back to the window and rubbed his forehead, trying to make sense of everything he'd learned in such a short period of time. He paced around a bit, stopping near the fishbowl. He watched as Kate the Fish swam around and he gasped as the realization hit him like a tidal wave.
"Holy shit," Gibbs breathed. He knelt down so he felt like he was looking the fish right in the eye and he let out a long breath. "I think Kate is Tony's Shannon," he whispered.
It brought a decade of illusion into aching, biting, frightening clarity. All of the flings, the lies about the flings, the quiet days following exciting nights out on the town, bleary eyed hangovers…God how much of everything he knew about Tony was a lie? A half truth? Did he even know him?
And wasn't Gibbs guilty of doing the same thing?
Gibbs ran his hand over his mouth. He looked at the mostly closed bedroom door, fighting the urge to go wake Tony up and interrogate the hell out of him. Holy shit. He moved over to the couch and eased down on it, still rubbing his hand over his mouth. Holy shit. He'd misunderstood—he'd misunderstood it all.
Had he made Tony's life harder? Had he taken Tony's pain and twisted it—mocking him and throwing barbs at it until he'd left Tony flayed and vulnerable? Didn't Gibbs lash out and growl at people when they did that shit to him? And he handled…oh Christ he handled Tony with all of the finesse of a wrecking ball. Had he driven the young man away?
Memories washed over Gibbs then. Memories of his dear precious Shannon. Memories of Kate. Memories of him with Shannon. With Shannon and Kelly. Memories of Tony with Kate. Mouth pressed into a firm line, Gibbs got up and headed for the kitchen. He needed a drink. Coffee, bourbon, paint thinner—something. He opened the cupboards and was surprised to see no liquor at all. He was pleasantly surprised to see the unopened package of the coffee that he preferred. He pulled it down and started the coffee pot that sat next to the stove.
Jesus what a mess. How could he have let Tony down like that?
Once the coffee was brewing, Gibbs returned to pacing. Ok the problem he'd exacerbated was firmly established. What he needed now was a solution. He needed to figure out a way to let Tony know that he understood. He had Tony's six. He'd do a better job of it now than he'd done in the past. He wanted to blame Tony for not telling him—but had he been approachable? Had Tony felt safe enough to tell him? Or did he expect that Gibbs would berate him—give him a hard time—fuss at him for breaking rule number twelve? God knows he'd chewed Tony a new ass over that rule on several occasions. But…when he looked at that picture of Tony and Kate on that shelf…when he saw them together and how perfect they were together—they were indeed a beautiful couple…God he felt like an ass.
He poured himself a cup of coffee and went back to the couch. He leaned back against the cushions, balancing the mug on his leg, and stared at the ceiling. He needed to figure a way to fix this.
The bedroom door opened and Tony leaned against the door frame. He looked so lost, so broken, so…lonely…
"Tony?" Gibbs set the mug on the coffee table and stood up. "You ok Tony?"
Tony looked around and shrugged helplessly. Gibbs stepped over to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. "Come sit," he instructed. He carefully guided Tony over to the couch. Something was obviously bothering him—something that was keeping the younger man from sleeping. They sat down on the couch and Gibbs kept his arm around Tony's shoulders. "Want something to drink?" Gibbs asked. It took a moment for Tony to respond but he eventually shook his head no.
"I can't find her," Tony whispered. "I keep…I keep looking for her…"
"I know," Gibbs said quietly.
Tony shook his head. "Don't know," he said. "I never told you…couldn't…" he shook his head again. "I'm so tired."
"I know," Gibbs said. "I'm sorry Tony. You can talk to me. Always. About anything. I'm sorry you doubted that."
"Broke the rules…always breakin' the rules…always…always gettin' left…"
Gibbs kept his arm securely around Tony's shoulders. He certainly knew what that felt like. "Talk to me Tony. Can't keep it all bottled up. Hell, you already can't sleep."
Tony stared blearily at his lap. "I miss her," he murmured. "She and I…we hadn't told anybody yet. We were planning to go to Ohio to visit her parents and tell them…we were going to come back and tell everyone else."
"When were you planning to make the trip?" Gibbs asked.
"Second week of April," Tony said. "Unfortunately…I got sick."
Gibbs' eyes widened slightly. They'd missed their trip because Tony got the plague. He recalled Kate's insistence that she enter quarantine with Tony. "Wow," he breathed. What else could he say?
"We were aiming to go on Memorial Day weekend," Tony continued. He shrugged one shoulder. "But that um…that got messed up too."
Yeah it got messed up. The sound of a distant sniper's rifle echoed in Gibbs' head. He remembered the wide-eyed, horrified stare of the young man next to him. He remembered telling Tony to hit the deck and when he turned around Tony was sitting on his knees staring Death in the face—blood soaking into his pants, a gory mess splattered across his face. Gibbs had covered Kate with his jacket and forced Tony to look away. Looking back now, that was still the right decision to make. Tony didn't need more reminder of what happened. Once they all got back to NCIS, Tony went after the case like a man possessed—even more obsessed than Gibbs. In fact, now that Gibbs thought about it, the only time he'd seen anyone go after anything so passionately was twenty-five years earlier…in Mexico.
Gibbs tightened his arm around Tony who'd still not moved. "I'm so sorry Tony."
Tony sniffled pitifully. "At least…at least with Shannon there was no way you could have saved her. You were overseas on deployment. At least you weren't standing right next to her. At least you didn't have her brain splash across your face. I could have saved Kate, Gibbs," Tony whispered. "I was almost touching her. She was not even two feet from me. Even if I'd bumped her—a glancing shot—if it'd entered her brain differently she maybe could have lived…I would have taken care of her, Gibbs," Tony's voice was quiet, choked…pleading? "I would have always taken care of her."
Gibbs rubbed his head up and down Tony's arm. "I know Tony. I'm sorry you never got to even tell anyone you were together."
Tony was still and silent for a minute. "Wanna show you something." He stumbled off to the bedroom and a moment later he returned, a small object in his hand. He sat back down next to Gibbs and looked at the older man. "When we came back from Ohio…I had a surprise planned," he said quietly. He opened the small, black velvet box.
Gibbs felt a lump form in his throat. "Ah hell Tony," he said, reaching out and taking the box from Tony's trembling fingers. The pretty little diamond ring, with its small but glimmering princess-cut diamond and its dainty gold band would have been the perfect ring for their beloved Kate.
"The first time I ever met my in-laws was at their daughter's funeral," Tony said bitterly. "A funeral I like to think I could have prevented. And what was I supposed to say to them? 'Oh hi I'm Tony, your daughter's boyfriend?' I don't think so."
"It might have brought both of you some comfort if they had known that she had someone who loved her so much," Gibbs said, passing the ring back to Tony.
"Funny…Jeanne was here one night—the only time she was ever here…she found this ring and…she thought I meant it for her. Jenny was pushing for me to pursue the relationship with her…But…I just…I couldn't. Think I let everyone down, but…I just couldn't."
"You didn't disappoint me. That whole situation should have never happened. You did a damn fine job with what you had to work with."
Tony nodded morosely. "Sorry Boss. Don't think this is what you wanted to do all night. Gonna be tired tomorrow."
"If I'm tired I'll sleep," Gibbs shrugged. "We're off."
"What?" Tony yawned. "How are we off?"
"Vance said we could use the break," Gibbs said, not letting on that he'd made the request on Tony's behalf. "We're off until the week from Monday."
"Oh," Tony said. He yawned again.
"Tell me about Kate, Tony," Gibbs said. "You knew her…differently, than I did."
Tony looked at Gibbs with a funny expression. "I bet you thought all of this was because of Ziva," he mused, leaning back against the couch cushion.
Gibbs nodded. "I did. But I think I was wrong. I can admit that."
"Not wrong," Tony shook his head. "Ziva started it."
"How's that?"
Tony shrugged. "I…found Ziva…a while before I told you I did, Boss."
"Yeah?" Gibbs nodded. "You think I didn't know that?"
Tony shook his head and chuckled. "Should have known that by now."
Gibbs reached for his coffee mug. "Yup."
"We spent a long time at her childhood home. Rode some horses. Ate some good food. Drank some wonderful wine. Had long talks."
"Sex?" Gibbs asked mildly.
Tony shook his head. "No sex. A kiss or two. No sex."
Gibbs nodded. "So how's that relate to Kate? And why are you not sleeping?"
"Ziva talked a lot about regrets. She has a lot of them. A lot of guilt too."
"So do you," Gibbs observed.
"Yeah," Tony said hoarsely. "I do. And most of them are about Kate. I dunno…she talked on and on and on about how she let Ari down. I tried to be sympathetic, Boss, but…if she hadn't shot the sonofabitch then I would have—or I would have died trying. Ziva noticed. I told her about me and Kate. Ari's actions took away those we loved the most. Ziva lost her brother, and I lost…" Tony's voice cracked and he couldn't finish.
"You lost the other half of your soul," Gibbs finished for him.
"Yeah," Tony breathed shakily, nodding as a tear dripped off the end of his nose.
"It's why she left," Tony said. "She was talking about coming back here with me up until we had that conversation. After…well she said she didn't know how I'd stood working with her for so long." Tony looked at Gibbs, his oldest and dearest friend. "I let you down Boss. Ziva left because of me. It's my fault."
"It's not your fault," Gibbs said firmly. "She and I talked. I know why she left. She left because she was afraid of hurting you more. Of hurting all of us more. She wanted a new start."
Tony nodded, fingering the black ring box he still held.
"Tell me about Kate," Gibbs requested again. "Don't have to keep it all to yourself anymore."
Tony was quiet for a long time. The apartment was silent, other than the sound of the clock ticking on the wall. "She…Kate was the best," he finally murmured.
"Yeah?" Gibbs asked. "I didn't really know her that well outside of work."
"She loved documentaries," Tony said. "There was this one…about Malcolm X…God she loved it. We'd watch it over and over and over, but…well I always slept through it. The documentary was so long it took two discs. A lot of times we'd be cuddled up and I'd fall asleep. She'd watch the same part of the documentary repeatedly until I woke up. And she loved to cook. Did you know that? She always said if she wasn't a fed she wanted to be a chef. She cooked the most amazing food."
"I had no idea," Gibbs said.
Tony nodded. He shifted uncomfortably and winced.
Gibbs patted his leg. "You can stretch out if you want," he offered.
Tony readjusted, flopping his head on Gibbs' shoulder instead. "She loves the color pink. Loved. Loved the color. Don't think she loves much of anything now. Anyway. She wanted pink everything."
"She was always pretty neutral colored at work."
"She was professional to a fault. She wouldn't even pick out flashy lipstick." Tony smiled. "Well…at least not for work. She loved to be outside, loved having her back rubbed—she didn't want it massaged, just rubbed with the tips of my fingers. Drove her wild." His smile became sad. "She was perfect. I wouldn't have changed anything about our relationship. Well. Except for the sex. Or lack thereof."
"She didn't like sex?" Gibbs asked.
"She had no idea. Was holding out for her wedding night."
Gibbs blinked. "Seriously?"
Tony nodded against him. "Yeah. Good little Catholic girl. She took it very seriously."
"Damn," Gibbs said, trying to reconcile the fierce agent with the image of an innocent, blushing, virgin bride in his head.
"She wasn't hands off," Tony said causally. "If she uh…cranked my truck she'd always…take care of it for me. But yeah…no sex."
"You'd tease her incessantly," Gibbs sputtered around a forming chuckle.
"Fucked with her head," Tony sat up and smiled cheekily. "Was the only fucking I could get!"
"Except it wouldn't have been fucking if you'd gotten it," Gibbs said softly.
"Oh no," Tony agreed. He leaned back against Gibbs' shoulder again. "If I knew Kate…it would have been…it would have been as close to heaven on earth as any person could achieve."
Gibbs leaned his head back on the couch cushion and listened as Tony continued his quiet monologue about Kate. Tony told him how she loved it when Tony played with her hair, enjoyed smearing mayonnaise in her hair on Friday nights when they were off duty. He told him how they'd race to the kitchen after they were finished eating dinner—and how the winner got to wash dishes because both of them hated drying and putting them away. Kate had frequent nightmares—but they were over silly things like rabid bunny rabbits or the Kool Aid pitcher man from the soft drink commercials.
Gibbs laughed out loud when Tony described how Kate's favorite food—her favorite guilty pleasure—was chili cheese fries. "Wait, wait, wait," Gibbs chuckled. "She was all 'leafy greens and tofu' at work—how come you got to eat chili cheese fries with her?"
"I didn't!" Tony exclaimed. "She always tried to make me eat healthy—she was afraid I was going to get fat or something, I dunno…"
Tony told Gibbs about how Kate was a bit of a loner. She didn't have a lot of friends and wasn't particularly close to her siblings. She dreamed of having eight kids—because eight was her lucky number, and she wanted an equal number of boys and girls. By the time Kate and Tony got around to dating, they'd been best friends for a long time.
"I love her so much," Tony whispered, and several tears dripped pitifully from his eyes. He ignored them. "She's been dead for eight years and four months now. Did you know that?"
"Yeah," Gibbs said softly. "I did. But you've still got me hung up at the eight kids. Do you know how expensive that'd be?"
"I tried to tell her we'd be in the poorhouse, but she wouldn't listen to me. You know how she was," Tony snarked.
"Yep," Gibbs nodded.
Tony sobered and his chuckle died. He reached behind him and grabbed the blanket off the back of the couch. The blanket was hunter green and maroon and beautifully crafted. Tony wrapped it tightly around himself and leaned against Gibbs again. Gibbs glanced at him. "Nice blanket."
"Kate made it," Tony whispered. He pulled the corner of it up close to his face and rubbed his cheek with it. Gibbs could tell it was a familiar move, one meant to comfort. "She made me a sweater too. But I love this blanket."
Gibbs kept his arm firmly around Tony's shoulders, and listened as he rambled on some more. A glance at the clock on the wall told Gibbs it was nearly four in the morning. He was glad they weren't working the next day. Tony needed the rest. "Tony how long have you not been sleeping?"
Tony was quiet for a long moment. "I've not had a full night's sleep without drugs—you know, painkillers and stuff when I whack my head or get shot—since she died. I've learned to cope without it. I do ok."
"Ok is not the same as good," Gibbs pointed out gently.
Tony shrugged his shoulder and didn't respond for a few moments. "You had no idea," he finally whispered. "I've been fine."
"You've been coping. I just haven't known to go looking for it," Gibbs said. "I see it now. You've been doing this for years by yourself. And it's really impressive and you've done a great job, but…Tony you don't have to do it alone. If you need to rest, rest. If you need to cry, cry. If you need to get drunk, call me and I'll drive you home. You aren't an island, Tony. You are not alone. Hear me?"
Tony raised up and looked at Gibbs then. He must have seen some truth in Gibbs' eyes, because Tony's lower lip trembled and tears filled his eyes. Tony buried his face in Gibbs' shirt, and the despair rolled off of him like a fog. His shoulders shook, but he didn't make a sound. Gibbs could feel the hot tears on his shirt and he wrapped his arms tighter around the younger man. "I gotcha Tony. Let it out. Just let it go. You've been doing it alone for too long Tony. That's all over now. I gotcha."
"DiN-Nozzos—d-don't—cry—" Tony forced out, trying to regain control of his unravelling emotions.
"Men do cry, Tony. I cry. It's alright. I've got you. Just let it go," Gibbs encouraged gently.
Tony fisted Gibbs shirt in one hand then, and let out a low, keening wail. He dug his face into Gibbs' chest, seemingly trying to get as close as possible and Gibbs hugged him tighter. He wondered if Tony had ever really let go and grieved for Kate.
He wondered if Tony had known howto let go, or if he'd ever felt safe enough to do it.
Gibbs kept his grip on Tony strong, not gentle or soft. Tony wasn't fragile. He was heartbroken and devastated, but not fragile. As he held on, weathering Tony through this catharsis, he thought back to the moment when he himself had finally let go after Shannon and Kelly died. He'd gotten the tip from the file on Mike Franks' desk—the man had all but commissioned the hit on Pedro Hernandez. Gibbs packed his rifle and trekked to Mexico where he'd ruthlessly hunted the murdering sonofabitch down.
He recalled the feel of the sun beating down on his back. The crosshairs of the sniper scope as they surrounded the forehead of Pedro Hernandez. Gibbs could still vaguely hear the sound of the approaching light blue pickup truck as it propelled its driver to his death. He could taste the dried, salty tears on his lips. He pulled the trigger then, and the pain that shot through him at the same moment Hernandez died was so debilitating, so raw, so alive that Gibbs thought he might die too. He remembered howling his pain out then, screaming to the sky and the heavens above. He didn't think the tears would ever stop once they started…
He knew—maybe better than anyone in their circle—what the pain that Tony was experiencing felt like. So he held onto his friend, soothing his loneliness, his solitary grief in the best way he knew how.
Sometimes presence has more to say than any empty words and reassurance ever could.
It was a long time before Tony's storm passed. Gibbs glanced at the clock when Tony's shoulders finally relaxed and stopped shaking. Nearly five a.m. now. Gibbs shifted slightly and Tony whimpered softly and clung tighter. "Ok," Gibbs whispered. "It's ok Tony. I gotcha. I've got your six."
After several more minutes it became evident that Tony had cried himself to sleep. Gibbs carefully adjusted Kate's blanket and tucked it over Tony's shoulder. He shifted Tony carefully so he wasn't lying on his face, and smiled sadly when Tony didn't even stir. Gibbs knew that he could probably go to sleep too now, but he didn't want to just yet. He'd promised Tony that he wouldn't leave him alone. Gibbs would keep that promise now, not even leaving Tony in sleep, until he was sure the younger man was alright. There was a book sitting on the end table next to him, and Gibbs picked it up. "1001 Nights," Gibbs muttered the title out loud before chuckling softly and shaking his head at the irony. It seemed Tony had his own 1001 Nights Tale—he'd certainly missed enough sleep for it to be an epic. Running his fingers lightly through his friend's hair, soothing him with his gentle touch, Gibbs opened the book and began to read.
xxx
Tony didn't stir or even move until mid-afternoon. By that time, Gibbs, thanks to the coffee and the added weight of Tony laying on him, had slid out from under Tony. He was amazed when he stood up that Tony still didn't wake up. He shoved a pillow under the young man's head and pulled the blanket up again before running his hand over Tony's hair.
That had been several hours earlier.
The clock on the wall had nearly made its full round before Tony groaned. Gibbs lowered the book and glanced at Tony to see if he was waking up. Tony shifted and stretched his legs out and slowly lifted his head. One eye was almost open, but Tony was still mostly asleep. He dropped his head back down after a moment and resettled.
Gibbs smiled and stood up, heading to the kitchen to refill his coffee cup. He was hungry, but he'd wait for Tony before he ate. When he returned to the living room, he was surprised to see Tony sitting up on the couch, Kate's blanket bunched around his waist. He was bleary eyed and blinking weakly in the afternoon light.
"Time is it?" Tony's voice was rough and husky. He sounded like he'd been gargling razor blades or broken glass.
"Nearly four. You hungry?"
Tony blinked heavily and his head dropped forward. He stayed that way for a few minutes, dozing lightly, before stirring and raising his head once more.
"Ok Tony?" Gibbs asked, sipping his coffee.
Tony nodded slowly. He ran his hand over his face and yawned. "I'm fine," he mumbled.
Gibbs just stared at his partner, knowing the canned response for what it was. "Hungry?"
It took Tony another minute to process the question. "Mmmm…dunno," He whispered.
Gibbs stood up and moved across the room. He sat down on the edge of the coffee table and eyed Tony with a scrutinizing expression. "With me?" he asked when Tony finally looked up.
"Think so," Tony nodded. "God I'm tired," he said, almost to himself.
"Why don't you grab a shower? I'll fix something to eat and then you can sleep some more."
Tony shook his head. "Got no food here," he dropped his gaze to his lap. "How long did I sleep?"
"Nearly twelve hours. You needed it. How about I call in a pizza?"
Tony nodded. "Ok," he said. "'m gonna…take a shower," he whispered. He pushed himself slowly to his feet and headed for the bedroom. "Thanks for staying Boss."
Gibbs smiled. Tony wasn't awake enough to remember last night yet. "You're welcome Tony."
While Tony was in the shower, Gibbs called in their pizza. He listened as the shower shut off, waiting for Tony to reemerge from the bedroom. Thirty minutes after making the call, the pizza arrived. Gibbs paid the delivery boy and locked the apartment door back. He set the pizza on the coffee table and knocked on Tony's bedroom door. He frowned when he didn't hear anyone inside, and pushed the door open. Tony was lying sideways across his twin bed, his feet flat on the floor, half dressed and sound asleep.
"Hey Tony," Gibbs called, stepping to Tony's bedside. He took Tony's arm gently and pulled him up to sit. He knew the younger man was tired, but he needed to eat too. Tony stirred a bit and leaned against Gibbs weakly. "Let's eat DiNozzo. Then you can sleep more. C'mon open your eyes."
Tony blinked his eyes open and frowned. "Wanna sleep," he mumbled, his voice sounding oddly whiny. "Just…leave me alone."
Gibbs was expecting this. Tony seemed to have a quota for how much TLC he could have before he freaked out. He took a step back to give the younger man some space. Tony raised a shifty-eyed gaze to Gibbs and quickly dropped it. "Sorry Boss…I'll…my resignation will be on your desk on Monday."
The headslap rocked the young man forward and nearly sent him sprawling into the floor. "What the hell was that for?!" Tony snapped indignantly, now wide awake.
"You know what it was for," Gibbs retorted, but there was no heat in it. "Don't be a dumbass, DiNozzo."
Tony was on his feet in an instant, eyes flashing like ignited shards of molten jade, just waiting to erupt into green flame. "Don't judge me," he growled, hands knotting into fists. He looked good and angry, but Gibbs heard the desperation in his tone that extinguished the fire. This was all a defense mechanism. Tony swallowed hard. "Don't judge me," he said again, his voice barely a whisper.
"No one's judging you Tony. Sure as hell not me. This is ME, Tony. You KNOW me."
Tony deflated a bit then and sat back down on the bed. He ran his hand over his forehead, rubbing it hard, and closed his eyes. "I know," he murmured, nodding. "I know. I'm sorry."
Gibbs sat down on the bed next to him. "Don't apologize," he said quietly.
Tony looked down. "It's hard. Knowing how…how I'm supposed to be. Knowing how I am," he shrugged. "How do I balance it? How do I mourn for the woman who…who would have been my wife when to everyone in the world but me, she was just my friend, my coworker? And how do I do it without everyone finding out? And what if they did find out? Would it matter? Would it change everything?"
"Everything changes the minute they die," Gibbs murmured, slinging an arm around Tony's shoulders. "Whether you realize it or not. Whether anyone else realizes it or not. There's no time table for how to do it."
"I had to get rid of my bed," Tony whispered. He ran his hand over the plain black comforter. "Had a bigger bed. But after…"
"There's a reason I sleep on the couch, Tony," Gibbs said. "I got a new mattress too. Couldn't sleep in that bed after Shannon died. It smelled like her. And I'd get lost in the bed looking for her."
"Exactly," Tony nodded emphatically. "That's exactly it! I couldn't stand it. But…even after getting the new bed…I thought it'd fix it. But I just…I spend every night looking for her. Like I can save her or something. I don't bring lovers home—not that I have any—because they can't stand sleeping with me because I don't sleep. I toss and turn and fight and moan and finally give up and get up." He shook his head sadly. "It's hopeless. I'm going to be alone forever." He laid back down on the bed. "I just wanna sleep Gibbs," he said quietly. "Maybe things will make more sense when I wake up." He turned over so his back was to the older man.
Gibbs sighed and frowned. He didn't like how unhappy Tony was. He pulled the blankets up over Tony and ran a hand over his shoulder. "Call me tomorrow," he ordered. "Don't make me come looking for you." He didn't particularly want to leave Tony like this, but he knew when he'd been dismissed, and he realized that Tony had reached the limit on what he could stand today. He wanted to sleep. Gibbs would give him the space to do that with privacy.
As Gibbs headed for the bedroom door, Tony raised up on one elbow. "Hey Boss?"
Gibbs put his hand on the knob and didn't turn around, though he stopped. "Yeah?"
"Thanks Boss."
"Night Tony."
xxx
Gibbs tried not to worry, as for the next twenty-four hours he didn't hear a peep from his Senior Field Agent. He worked on his boat and puttered around his house. He slept a bit, but not much. His brain was swirling too much with thoughts of the relationship he'd never known about, the love Tony had lost, the pain they both shared. Finally, the sun dipped low in the sky, and Gibbs turned on the overhead lights in the basement. He was just about to pull out his phone—telling himself in vain that he wasn't worried about Tony—he was pissed because the younger man hadn't followed his instructions—when he heard his front door close.
His finely tuned ears picked out Tony's gait as he crossed slowly through the living room, moved to the kitchen, and then finally the young man headed for the basement. The door creaked on its hinges as Tony opened it and Gibbs made a point to focus his eyes on his carving project and not on the young man descending the stairs.
Well, some of the stairs.
About halfway down Tony stopped. He didn't sit down though, merely stood on the fourth step from the bottom.
Gibbs kept his shoulders loose and didn't immediately turn around to look at Tony. He was going to give Tony the space and time he needed to…do whatever it was he was going to do. He wasn't prepared for the sound of ragged breathing. Tony made an odd sound, kind of a groan? But throaty. The curious sounds made Gibbs turn around. His eyes widened and he rushed for the stairs when he saw Tony starting to fall. It looked like his legs were buckling. Gibbs hauled ass up the steps and put his hands gently on Tony's shoulders, easing him down on the stairs.
"Woah Tony, take it easy. What's up? You ok?"
Tony was trembling from head to toe. He was pale and sweaty, his hands were clammy, and he was in the same clothes he'd put on when he got out of the shower yesterday. The dark circles were beginning to look like the smudges under the eyes of ball players.
"What's wrong Tony?" Gibbs was getting concerned now. Tony's face took on a look of desperate sadness. His mouth opened like he wanted to speak, but a choked gasp escaped instead. Gibbs put his hands on Tony's shoulders and gave him a firm shake. "TONY. What is it? Do you need a doctor?"
Tony lifted his hands and hooked them over Gibbs' arms. He stared at the older man and Gibbs' own eyes widened. "Ohhhh," he said, understanding. The realization was setting in. Tony was moving into a new stage of his grief. He dragged Tony to his feet and hauled him down the rest of the steps. He sat both of them down on the old battered leather couch that once sat in front of the picture window in his parents' house. "You're ok," Gibbs soothed. "It's going to be fine. You're ok."
"Oh God," Tony let out a harsh sob. "NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!" he roared, "Gibbs—she—Kate's—ohgodno," his voice grew increasingly quiet.
"Keep going," Gibbs encouraged. It was going to hurt like hell, but Tony needed to keep moving forward. If he got hung up now, in this state…well that wouldn't be good. "I'm right here. You're not alone. It's alright."
"She's—Kate's really not coming back!" Tony gasped. "She's…she's gone…she's never coming back! I can't—I'm alone—I—oh God…"
"Tony," Gibbs spoke softly. The younger man didn't respond, still totally consumed by his grief. "Tony," he said again. "DINOZZO!" he snapped when Tony didn't respond again.
This time Tony blinked and looked at him through glassy, bloodshot eyes. "I don't know what to do Gibbs," Tony whispered. "I've never…I spent years trying not to…I don't know…I just don't know…help me Gibbs…please Boss? I don't know what to do. I feel…feel like I'm losing it." He yawned.
"Did you sleep after I left?" Gibbs asked quietly.
Tony shook his head before putting his face in his hands. "No," he murmured. "I tried. Couldn't…ended up pacing around…talking to Kate…the fish, not the person," he looked up at Gibbs. "I don't think I'm that crazy yet."
"I talk to Shannon all the time," Gibbs said with a shrug. "Doesn't make ya crazy. Come with me," he stood up. He held out his hand when Tony stared dumbly at him. Tony took his hand and Gibbs pulled him to his feet. "C'mon. Upstairs."
"Where are we going?" Tony asked.
Gibbs didn't answer. Tony thought perhaps they'd go to the kitchen for something to eat—he was starving—but they went to the stairs instead. Tony figured Gibbs was going to throw him in the bed and tell him to sleep. As he followed the other man upstairs, he let the fatigue begin to sink in, in hopeful anticipation of getting to sleep soon. He always slept better at Gibbs' house.
He was even more confused when they went past the guest room where Tony normally stayed. "Gibbs," he fairly whined. "Where are we going?"
Gibbs stopped at a door at the end of the hall—one Tony had always figured to be a closet. He'd never seen the door opened. Gibbs pushed the door open and stepped aside. "C'mon in Tony," he gestured. "Take a look around. Then we'll talk."
Tony stopped in the doorway and his eyes widened. His jaw dropped a bit. "Ohhhh oh God. Oh Gibbs. Oh shit," Tony sputtered.
The walls of this secret room were a cool, light purple. Posters of horses, rainbows, and kittens adorned the walls. A canopied princess bed with a lace canopy centered the left side wall. What really struck Tony was all of the other pictures on the walls—framed portraits and photographs of a past life—a life that had ended when the older man's wife and daughter died. Tony found himself staring into the face of the woman who'd caused Gibbs both so much happiness and so much heartbreak.
"Shannon?" Tony asked. He'd never seen her, but he felt like he knew her.
The name sounded reverent in the room and on Tony's lips and Gibbs nodded. "Yep. That's Shannon," he pointed at one photo, "and that's Kelly," he said, indicating the little girl in another picture.
There were plastic storage containers stacked neatly along the wall opposite the bed and Tony could see that they were filled with clothes, toys, dolls—all of their possessions. Tony leaned against the doorframe, reluctant to invade Gibbs' most private space. Gibbs leaned against the other side of the doorframe and crossed his arms, staring past Tony's shoulder into the room, a quiet, gentle smile playing over his face.
Tony glanced back at Gibbs. "Gibbs…this place…wow it's amazing," he spoke softly, concerned about disrupting the peace this room held. "But…I don't understand…why'd you bring me here?"
"To teach you a lesson," Gibbs said quietly. "Because when someone you love so much dies, you have two choices. You can pretend like they don't exist—pretend like that part of your life never happened—you can live a lie. Or," Gibbs looked at him. "You can create a place in your world where the people you love can stay alive. I come in here every single day. Sometimes I only stay for a minute, look at a picture or two, and other days I spend the entire evening in here. These girls were my life Tony. But when they died I had to make a choice. And it took me about ten years to decide."
"What choice?" Tony asked, looking from Gibbs to the room and back again.
"I had to decide if I was going to live or die. And you have to do the same thing."
Tony's jaw dropped and his eyes widened. "How do I do that?" he asked.
"You've already been doing it," Gibbs said. "You just got a little off track. How have you lived the last nine years? I know you didn't tell any of us about your relationship with Kate, but…Tony you named your fish after her," Gibbs' voice was gentle. "She's still alive in your heart, even if you don't express it to others. That's ok. You're the first person who's ever seen this room. But you need to find a place where your relationship with Kate can breathe a little."
Tony stared at the room for a long moment, an idea forming in his mind. But first… "I need to sleep Gibbs," he whispered. "Can I stay here? I won't get in your way. I just…I can't sleep there."
Gibbs nodded. "Did you ever eat?" Tony shook his head. "Well then first you are going to eat. Then you can sleep."
"I'm not hungry," Tony mumbled.
Gibbs slapped him over the back of the head. "Did it sound like I was asking a question?"
"No Boss. Thank you Boss," Tony rubbed his hand over the back of his head.
"C'mon," Gibbs said. He smiled. "How about some chili cheese fries?"
xxx
Epilogue: Two Months Later
Gibbs' breath caught in his throat as his car fishtailed slightly on the icy parking lot. It was Christmas Eve and the team was off rotation. Tony had called earlier and asked him to come by, and to dress nicely. Over the last couple of months, Tony seemed to slowly crawl back into himself. His jokes came a little easier, he went home from work a little earlier; he slept a lot better.
He stepped out of the car and cursed when his foot slid on the ice. Gibbs keyed his way into Tony's apartment building and started up the stairs. Tony was intensely private—always had been—and Gibbs hadn't been back to his apartment since he'd stayed the night there with Tony after the case with Anton Markin. He arrived at the third floor apartment and knocked on the door. Gibbs glanced himself over carefully, taking note of his shined black shoes, black pants, black sweater and black coat.
Tony opened the door and smiled. He was wearing gray slacks with a black sweater. "Hey Boss," he said. "Merry Christmas. Please. Come in."
Gibbs stepped into the warm apartment and smiled at the tasteful, modestly decorated apartment. It didn't take him long to notice the large Rococo wardrobe placed near the huge windows, against the wall behind the baby grand piano. "Nice piece," he said, moving over to it. He ran his hands carefully over the fine wood structure and inspected it with a skilled, scrutinizing eye.
"Thanks," Tony said. "It um…you can uh…open it. If you want," he said. "I'm just going to uh…grab my coat."
Tony disappeared into his bedroom and Gibbs turned back to the wardrobe. He lightly fingered the delicate latch and unlocked it. He carefully opened the doors to the wardrobe and blinked, taking a step back. A hook on the inside of the door held a single hanger. A USC Basketball Jersey, Number 22, was carefully displayed. Pictures in frames filled the shelves, and there were several albums stored carefully as well. A small bottle of perfume sat on the top shelf, along with a small glass box that held a golden cross necklace and a pair of pearl earrings. The small black velvet box containing the ill-fated engagement ring sat beside it.
"I saved a lot of her things," Tony said softly, from somewhere behind Gibbs. "When she died? Before you called her parents? I went to her apartment, and I raided it. I got her jersey that she always…always slept in. First time I ever saw it was when we were in Guantanamo on that case. I woke up to an iguana and the most beautiful woman I'd ever seen wearing a basketball jersey." Tony shook his head and laughed. "Thought I'd died and gone to heaven. But yeah…I got some of her stuff. I couldn't…couldn't stand not to."
"I think you had a really smart idea," Gibbs said. "I realized after I gave you the idea that you live in a one bedroom. But you made it work for you in your own way. That's good work."
"Thanks Boss. It um…it feels good…letting her out of her boxes in the closet. Feels like she's closer."
Gibbs smiled. "I get that. So why are we dressed up?"
"Christmas eve," Tony shrugged. "Thought maybe we could uh…maybe go to mass."
"Didn't think you were a churchy kinda guy, Tony," Gibbs observed. "I'm game. It's just surprising."
"Kate and I…we always went to mass together on Christmas Eve. Well…the one year we were together. But it could have been a tradition, I think. If um…if we'd had the opportunity," he shrugged again.
"What time's it start?"
"In about an hour," Tony said, glancing at his watch.
"Good. Let's go. You ready?"
Tony nodded. "Yeah," he swallowed hard, feeling suddenly emotional.
"Ok Tony?" Gibbs asked.
Tony swallowed around the lump in his throat and he pinched the corners of his eyes and took a shaky breath. "Kate uh…she loved Christmas," he said softly.
Gibbs smiled. "So did Shannon and Kelly."
"It's…this is really hard, Boss," Tony said in a small voice.
Gibbs squeezed the back of Tony's neck as they headed out of the apartment, both of them holding tightly onto their emotions. "I know Tony," he said. "But you're gonna make it."
"You think so?"
Gibbs smiled, thinking of the beautiful young woman that Tony loved so much, and for a moment he could remember the smell of her light perfume and the light jingle of her laugh. The more Gibbs had thought about it, the more he realized that they hadn't done such a great job of hiding their relationship. He just hadn't been looking for it. "I know so Tony. I know because you don't have to do it by yourself. You're strong. You'll make it."
"Will you help me?" Tony looked up at him, his eyes slightly watery, but clearer than Gibbs had seen in a while.
Gibbs nodded. "I've got your six Tony."
"I don't know how you handled losing…losing Shannon and Kelly both. I thought losing Kate was hard. You…you'd been married—had a kid—your hurt must be way worse tha—"
"No Tony. Don't say that. Every person's hurt is different, and it's not a contest."
Tony nodded. "You're right…Sorry Boss."
"There's only one way to do it," Gibbs said as they climbed in the car.
Tony put the key in his ignition and looked at him. "What's that?"
Gibbs smiled. "Just gotta take it one step at a time. Feel the ground out with your feet as you go. It's like walking in the dark."
Tony leaned forward and put his head on the steering wheel. "Do we ever get to make it to the light?"
"Yeah," Gibbs said, nodding slowly. "Yeah we do."
The End