AN: So, my cousins were playing Ring-A-Round of Rosies at my birthday party (it was really more for my parents to see everyone), and this is what came out of my sick mind. I don't know how twisted this is, but please read and review. Thanks!

Disclaimer: I don't own NCIS.

Gibbs knew how he was feeling. Man, did he know how Tony was feeling. There was nothing worse in the world. The gnawing in your stomach, which turns into your stomach disappearing, turning into you disappearing. You lose yourself in the feeling of loss, turn your insides out, your life upside down, just to find something that could possibly make you feel again. Feel something. Feel anything.

So when he found his senior field agent sitting in his apartment, all of the lights off, gun at his side, and bottle of whiskey in hand, he was not surprised. Worried, sure, but not surprised. After all, Franks had found him the same way, after the death of Shannon and Kelly, and again following Jenny's demise.

As he walked closer and closer to the inebriated agent, a faint murmur was made apparent to his ears. It sounded like Tony was humming something that sounded similar to a lullaby, a child's song that Gibbs couldn't place easily, whether it be from his lapse in listening to the genre, or the fact that a drunk Tony couldn't hum properly.

As it turned out, Tony was singing one of Ziva's favorites. They had spied her rocking with Amira the other day, singing gently to the child as Leila caught up on some much needed sleep. When prodded later, the Israeli revealed that the song was a childhood favorite- one that she would play with Ari and Tali in better times, before the IDF, Mossad, and her father got their hands on Ziva.

Now, as Gibbs reached his senior field agent, the younger man kept singing, oblivious to the hulking presence behind him.

"Ring-a-round of rosies,

a pocket full of posies.

Ashes! Ashes-"

Tony had now realized that someone was standing behind him. He set down the bottle of liquor, the little liquid that was left sloshing around at the bottom. A few discarded beers already rested at the agent's feet, clearly not strong enough for the man who had moved on to straight up whiskey. A Glock was clasped tightly in his left hand, safety off, and ready to release a bullet. Gibbs was anxious about where exactly Tony was thinking about putting that bullet.

"You know, after that case with Leila and Amira, I found her watching a video of her, Ari, and Tali playing to that song. I don't think Eli knew that she had it, else he would have destroyed it. She was actually happy. Happy, Gibbs. I have never seen her like that. Not ever. It killed me to know that I was the one who caused her pain in her apartment, standing over Rivkin. When we were in Israel, I wish sometimes that I died instead, just so Rivkin could keep making her happy."

An eyebrow quirked up at the thought of his agent thinking that he, Tony DiNozzo, couldn't make Ziva David happy. Hell, he had never seen Ziva happier than when she was with Tony. Although both of them wouldn't admit- maybe they didn't even know it- those two were meant for each other. Gibbs wasn't pleased at the idea of his agents falling in love, but God knows those two deserved someone in their life. Someone who wasn't part of a mission, someone who knew them inside and out, someone who made their life worth living. Now that Ziva was gone, Gibbs was very well aware that the last fulfillment would no longer be true.

It was hard enough on Tony when they had left her in Israel, left her to pick up the pieces of her shattered life. It was obvious to anyone who knew DiNozzo that the agent was dying inside from leaving Ziva, but he would do anything to make his ninja happy. Anything.

However, now that Ziva was dead, DiNozzo was crushed. He could barely handle it when she was alive, but just gone, and now that she was dead, he would do something terrible. Hence, the gun in his grasp, and Gibbs' worry.

"I just can't believe that this happened, Boss. She was the strongest person I have ever met. She was so brave and courageous and loyal and beautiful and strong and perfect. No bastard like Rivkin deserved to be even noticed by her. Hell, I didn't even deserve to know her, and she treated me like one of her best friends- that is, until I killed her boyfriend. She got me throuh thick and thin, Jeanne and Jenny, and so much more. She completed me. I know this sounds like some crap sentimental thing from one of my movies, and I know it sounds ridiculous, but it is so true. I can't describe how much she meant to me," Tony rambled, still studying the various nooks and crannies of the weapon in his hand.

"I know, Tony," Gibbs replied, speaking for the first time that entire night.

Tony looked up, shock covering his face at Gibbs speaking, and the fact that the ex-Marine had just called him Tony. Not DiNozzo, or idiot, or dumbass- Tony. Just Tony. He never called him that.

"I know how horrible it feels," Gibbs continued, looking away from DiNozzo at a far off spot on the wall. "I know the horrible pit in your stomach, knowing that you'll never see her again. I know how you wake up, expecting the scent of her perfume, or the warmth of her body, but it's not there. I know how you catch a glimpse of someone in the street, and think it's her. I know the terrible disappointment when you realize that it's not. I know the terrible joy when you contemplate death, if only to be a little closer to her once again. I know the guilt- why wasn't it you, it was all your fault, you could have done something more, etc. I know it all. And, I'm here to tell you- don't do this. She wouldn't want you to kill yourself, and I know that I sure as hell don't either."

Tony smiled sadly, tears now running down his face, "But I don't deserve to live, Gibbs. She does. She deserved a happy, healthy life more than anyone. She was the strongest person I knew, and she dies. What makes you think I'll live for that much longer anyways? After all, everybody dies. Eventually, we all fall down."


Halfway across the world, a young, curly haired brunette lay in a cell designed for someone who was about half of her size. She was covered in blood and dirt and various other unidentifiable stains that all lent themselves to the idea that she had been tortured. If someone got closer to her, they would hear a lullaby coming out of her mouth. Maybe they wouldn't know it, maybe they would, but they definitely wouldn't know the meaning it held for her.

"Ring-a-round of rosies,

a pocket full of posies.

Ashes! Ashes!

We all fall down."

"Happy Birthday, Tony," she murmured, glancing up at the sky as if to see his face there. "Happy Birthday- and may that last line never come true for you. Happy Birthday."

AN: Please review and tell me how it was! (Think of it as a birthday gift!)