So I'm really not sure what compelled me to write this. I wanted to cry the whole time. Anyways, this is an edited version of the one I posted on my Tumblr. Reviews are always appreciated and encouraged!

Disclaimer: *insert disclaimer here*

He'd taken the elevator trip down to autopsy countless times, and this one shouldn't have been any different. Except it was.

His eyes stared blankly at the shining metal doors before him as he stood rigidly still in the center of the elevator. Though Gibbs stood next to him, his worried gaze fixated on him, Tony refused to face his boss. He didn't want the boss man, his father figure, to see his tear stained cheeks; he'd already shown more weakness in the past few hours than he'd shown in his lifetime.

The second reason he refused to look around, though he would never admit this to anyone, was that he feared that if he looked down at his hands, he'd still see the blood. He feared that if he looked to his left, he'd see someone in that empty space who shouldn't be there, who couldn't be there.

"If I could drag her back, I'd do it in a heartbeat," he whispers, repeating his words from years prior, his voice breaking on the final word. But that's impossible. Ziva David is dead.

Gibbs took a deep, shaky breath.

"Anthony…"

Before he could offer his rare words of consolation, the elevator pinged and the doors slid open. In the hall outside of the morgue stood Ducky and Palmer, changed out of their scrubs and into regular clothes, holding their jackets as they stared solemnly at the closed autopsy doors. Upon hearing the elevator arrive, they glanced up, and seeing Tony's emotionless expression along with a concerned and obviously grief-stricken Gibbs, their stares turned from ones of solemnity to ones of sincere pity.

Tony strode robotically over to the ME and his assistant, Gibbs close on his heels.

"Anthony," Ducky began, placing his hand on the younger man's shoulder, "I am so sorry."

"It's not your fault, Duck," Tony muttered. "You know, when we brought her back from Somalia…she told me that she trusted me. She trusted me because she knew I always had her back. Maybe she shouldn't have trusted me after all."

"Tony, you can't beat yourself up over this," Ducky insisted. "The only one you have to blame is the man who shot her."

"I'm her partner."

Ducky pressed his mouth into a hard line, and threw a glance over Tony's shoulder to Gibbs.

"I know. And I think she thought of you as more than a partner."

A deep sigh escaped Tony's lips.

"I loved her. There. No harm in admitting it now, I guess."

"Did you ever tell her?" Ducky inquired. Tony sensed that this was the forensic psychologist side of Ducky speaking, but despite his extreme dislike of shrinks, Ducky was his friend. And Gibbs knew now, anyways. No harm in telling the truth. There was nothing left to hide, nothing left at all, without her.

"When she died in my arms. That was the last thing I ever told her."

"I'm sure she already knew how you felt," Ducky added comfortingly. When Tony didn't reply, Gibbs cleared his throat.

"Autopsy results, Duck?"

"Cause of death, two gunshot wounds to the chest, perforating a lung and other major organs," Ducky said reluctantly. "It's a wonder she lasted the few minutes that she did, poor girl."

A silence fell over the group.

"There is something else that I think might be of importance, at least to you, Anthony," Ducky started again, hesitantly.

"What?" Tony asked, a feeling of dread building in his chest. Ducky swallowed.

"Ziva was pregnant. Eight weeks."

Instantly, all the color drained from Tony's face, and his eyes filled with new tears. His hand came up to cover his eyes, and his shoulders hunched.

"I sent the DNA up to Abby, but…"

"Tell her not to bother," Tony whispered hoarsely. "It's mine."

"Was yours," Jimmy corrected, realizing the error of his words a second later as three pairs of eyes glared at him. "I'm so sorry, I didn't mean…" He trailed off as Tony fixed him with a stare.

"You're sure?" Ducky asked.

"Has to be."

Ducky nodded.

"I'm so sorry for your loss."

This time, Tony didn't answer. Instead, he hurled his fist at the wall. Just before it collided with its target, Gibbs' hand darted out and grabbed his.

"She wouldn't have wanted you to act like this," Gibbs warned.

"She's dead, boss. It doesn't matter what she would have thought. Nothing matters." His words came out as a choked sob. "I was gonna tell her that I loved her. One of these days, I was gonna grow a pair and ask her to marry me. We could've been happy together. For Christ's sake, we were gonna have a kid together…" And that's when he lost it, broke down and cried. "She was gonna have my kid, Gibbs."

Gibbs' heart filled with an immense sympathy for the younger man who was so like a son to him. He knew and understood the pain he was feeling. Above all, he was worried about him.

"I know."

Tony just stared back at him with blank eyes.

"Can I see her?" he asked.

"Of course," Ducky answered. "I suspected you would want to say goodbye. I made sure she was ready."

"Thank you." He turned to Gibbs. "I'd like to say goodbye to her, for the last time. Alone."

"Understood."

"Thank you Gibbs. I…appreciate it." Tony took a long look at each of the three men, before he turned and walked through the door to autopsy.

Ziva's body was lying on the middle slab, covered by a white sheet from the neck down. Tony had to remind himself to breathe as he slowly approached her. Her eyes were closed, and he might've thought she was sleeping if her olive skin weren't so pale, and if he hadn't watched her die. He gingerly reached out and touched her dark brown hair, gently running his hands through it one last time.

"Oh Ziva," he whispered. His memories flashed back to earlier that day. Or maybe it was yesterday; for all he knew, it was already after midnight. Ziva, Gibbs, McGee and himself chasing a murder suspect. Ziva taking off after him down an alleyway. Tony had followed her, but he hadn't been fast enough. He'd only been fast enough to see the bastard shoot her, to watch her crumple to the ground, bleeding and gasping for air as the suspect fled. He remembered taking her in his arms, urging her to stay with him, begging her to stay with him.

"Please, Ziva," he'd pleaded. "Stay with me. Please, stay with me. You have to. I love you."

"Tony…" she'd choked out, struggling to breath. "I love you, too. I love you… so much."

And then she'd been gone. And that had been the end for him. He'd called out her name a hundred times, begging her to stay even after he knew there wasn't the slightest chance. Gibbs and McGee had torn him away from her body…and he couldn't remember much after that.

"So, when were you gonna tell me about that kid?" Tony asked. "You shouldn't have been in the field. We wouldn't have let you if we'd known. Although maybe that was why you didn't tell us. You'd still be alive if you'd have told me, you know that? Why'd you always have to be so stubborn, huh? Why'd you always have to be so brave?" He paused and took a deep breath. "But that was who you were, wasn't it. That was the woman I fell in love with. And I shouldn't have waited till the end to tell you. You know, the first time I kissed you…I wanted to tell you. But I didn't. Thought I'd have the time later." He bent his forehead to rest on hers as tears streamed down his cheeks. "I'm sorry, Ziva. I'm so, so sorry."

When he was done saying his goodbyes, Tony pressed one last kiss to Ziva's forehead, and left through the second door to autopsy.

"You're worried about him?" Ducky asked Gibbs as the two men stood in the hallway, waiting for Tony to say goodbye. Jimmy had left a few minutes prior, citing traffic and the long day they'd all had.

"Yeah, Duck. Real worried."

"A loss like that would be hard on anyone. But given these circumstances…you don't think he'd do anything too rash, do you?"

"Rash?"

"Jethro, you took his gun, didn't you?" And then Gibbs understood.

"DiNozzo wouldn't…"

"Did you or did you not take his gun?"

When Gibbs didn't answer, Ducky turned and rushed through the autopsy doors.

"He's not here!" Ducky shouted.

Fear in his eyes, Gibbs ran towards the elevator, and pushed the call button as he pulled out his phone and called McGee.

"Agent Timothy McGee."

"Tim, have you seen DiNozzo?"

"I thought he was with you boss. What's going on?"

"If you see him, don't let him out of your sight." Gibbs hung up, and deciding that the elevator was taking too long, ran down the hall to the stairs.

Just as he passed the sign for the second floor, a gunshot rang out.

"DiNozzo," he breathed, running further up the stairs towards the roof, where it had sounded like the shot had come from.

To his utter dread, as he rushed out onto the roof, he saw the shadowy profile of a figure lying motionless on the ground. He said a silent prayer that he was seeing things in the dark, but as he approached he could clearly make out the suit jacket.

Gibbs slowly knelt next to Tony's body.

"God, Anthony," he whispered, placing his hand on the Tony's head. "What have you done."

Blood pooled around Tony's head, and even in the darkness Gibbs could make out the gunshot wound at his temple. As he knelt in shock next to his body, he noticed a piece of paper in Tony's hand. Gently removing it, he began to read Tony's suicide note.

"For Ziva. I can't live without her."